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Ira rosam et meritis quæsita superbia tangunt,

Multaque ferventi vix cohibenda finû,
Dum sibi fautorum ciet undique nomina vatûm,

Jusque fuum, multo carmine fulta, probat.

Altior emicat illa, et celso vertice nutat,
Ceu flores inter non habitura

parem, Fastiditque alios, ei nata videtur in ufùs

Imperii, fceptrum, Flora quod ipfa gerat.

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Nec Dea non sensit civilis murmura rixæ,

Cui curæ est pictas pandere ruris opes. Deliciasque suas nunquam non prompta tueri,

Dum licet et locus eft, ut tueatur, adest.


Et tibi forma datur procerior omnibus, inquit,

Et tibi, principibus qui folet effe, color, Et donec vincat quædam formosior ambas,

Et tibi reginæ nomen, et esto tibi.

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His ubi fedatus furor est, petit utraque nympham

Qualem inter Veneres Anglia fola parit, Hanc penés imperium est, nihil optant amplius, hujus Regnant in nitidis, et sine lite, genis.


A Nightingale that all day long
Had cheer'd the village with his song,
Nor yet at eve his note suspended,
Nor yet when even tide was ended,
Began to feel as well he might
The keen demands of appetite;
When looking eagerly around,
He fpied far off upon the ground,
A something shining in the dark,
And knew the glow-worm by his spark,



So stooping down from hawthorn top,
He thought to put him in his crop;
The worm, aware of his intent,
Harangu'd him thus right eloquent.

admire my lamp, quoth he,
As much as I your minstrelly,
You would abhor to do me wrong,
As much as I to spoil your song,
For 'twas the felf-fame power divine,
Taught you to sing, and me to shine,

with music, I with light,
Might beautify and cheer the night.
The fongster heard his short oration,
And warbling out his approbation,
Releas'd him as my story tells,
And found a supper somewhere else.

Hence jarring sectaries may learn,
Their real int'rest to discern;
That brother should not war with brother,
And worry and devour each other,

But sing and shine by sweet consent,
Till life's poor transient night is spent,
Respecting in each other's case
The gifts of nature and of grace.

Those christians best deserve the name
Who studiously make peace their aim;
Peace, both the duty and the prize
Of him that creeps and him that flies.

V O T U M.
ν ο T

O matutini rores, auræque salubres, O nemora, et lætæ rivis felicibus herbæ, Graminei colles, et amænæ in vallibus umbra! Fata modó dederint quas olim in rure paterno Delicias, procul arte, procul formidine novi, Quam vellem ignotus, quod mens mea semper avebat, Ante larem proprium placidam expectare senectam,


Tum demùm exactis non infeliciter annis,
Sortiri tacitum lapidem, aut fub cespite condi!

On a GOL D'FIN CH starved to Death in his Cage.



TIME was when I was free as air,
The thistles downy seed my

My drink the morning dew;
I perch'd at will on ev'ry spray,
My form genteel, my plumage gay,

My strains for ever new.


But gawdy plumage, sprightly strain,
And form genteel were all in vain

And of a transient date,
For caught and cag'd and starv'd to death,
In dying fighs my little breath

Soon pass’d the wiry grate.

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