Neither night nor dawn of day
Puts a period to thy play:
Sing, then-and extend thy span
Far beyond the date of man.
Wretched man, whose years are spent
In repining discontent,

Lives not, aged though he be,
Half a span, compared with thee.

IV. THE PARROT.

IN painted plumes superbly dress'd,
A native of the gorgeous east,
By many a billow toss'd;

Poll gains at length the British shore,
Part of the captain's precious store,
A present to his toast.

Belinda's maids are soon preferr'd,
To teach him now and then a word,
As Poll can master it;

But 'tis her own important charge,

To qualify him more at large,
And make him quite a wit.

Sweet Poll! his doting mistress cries, Sweet Poll! the mimic bird replies,

And calls aloud for sack.

She next instructs him in the kiss; 'Tis now a little one, like Miss, And now a hearty smack.

At first he aims at what he hears;

And, listening close with both his ears,
Just catches at the sound;
But soon articulates aloud,

Much to the amusement of the crowd,
And stuns the neighbours round.

A querulous old woman's voice
His humorous talent next employs,
He scolds, and gives the lie.
And now he sings, and now is sick,
Here, Sally, Susan, come, come quick,
Poor Poll is like to die!

Belinda and her bird! 'tis rare

To meet with such a well match'd pair,

The language and the tone,

Each character in every part
Sustain'd with so much grace and art,

And both in unison.

When children first begin to spell,

And stammer out a syllable,

We think them tedious creatures;

But difficulties soon abate,

When birds are to be taught to prate,

And women are the teachers.

TRANSLATION OF PRIOR'S CHLOE AND

EUPHELIA.

MERCATOR, vigiles oculos ut fallere possit, Nomine sub ficto trans mare mittit opes; Lené sonat liquidumque meis Euphelia chordis, Sed solam exoptant te, mea vota, Chlöe.

Ad speculum ornabat nitidos Euphelia crines, Cum dixit mea lux, heus, cane, sume lyram. Namque lyram juxtà positam cum carmine vidit, Suave quidem carmen dulcisonamque lyram.

Fila lyræ vocemque paro, suspiria surgunt,
Et miscent numeris murmura mæsta meis,
Dumque tuæ memoro laudes, Euphelia, formæ,
Tota anima intereà pendet ab ore Chlöes.

Subrubet illa pudore, et contrahit altera frontem, Me torquet mea mens conscia, psallo, tremo; Atque Cupidineâ dixit Dea cincta coronà,

Heu! fallendi artem quam didicere parum.

INSCRIPTION

FOR THE TOMB OF MR. HAMILTON.

PAUSE here, and think: a monitory rhyme
Demands one moment of thy fleeting time.

Consult life's silent clock, thy bounding vein;

66

Seems it to say-" Health here has long to reign?" Hast thou the vigour of thy youth? an eye

That beams delight? a heart untaught to sigh? Yet fear. Youth, ofttimes healthful and at ease, Anticipates a day it never sees;

And many a tomb, like Hamilton's, aloud Exclaims "Prepare thee for an early shroud."

EPITAPH ON A HARE.

HERE lies, whom hound did ne'er

pursue,

Nor swifter greyhound follow, Whose foot ne'er tainted morning dew, Nor ear heard huntsman's halloo;

Old Tiney, surliest of his kind,
Who, nursed with tender care,
And to domestic bounds confined,
Was still a wild Jack hare.

Though duly from my hand he took
His pittance every night,

He did it with a jealous look,

And, when he could, would bite.

His diet was of wheaten bread,
And milk, and oats, and straw;
Thistles, or lettuces instead,

With sand to scour his maw.

On twigs of hawthorn he regaled,
On pippins' russet peel,
And, when his juicy salads fail'd,
Sliced carrot pleased him well.

A Turkey carpet was his lawn,
Whereon he loved to bound,
To skip and gambol like a fawn,
And swing his rump around.

His frisking was at evening hours,
For then he lost his fear,

But most before approaching showers,

Or when a storm drew near.

Eight years and five round rolling moons

He thus saw steal away,

Dozing out all his idle noons,

And every night at play.