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Fate steals along with silent tread,
The lapse of time and rivers is the same,
THE POET'S NEW-YEAR'S GIFT.
ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY.
Sweer stream, that winds thro' yonder glade,
THE POET'S NEW-YEAR'S GIFT:
MRS. (NOW LADY) TAROCKMORTON,
MARIA! I have every good.
For thee wished many a time,
But never yet in rhime.
To wish thee fairer is no need,
More prudent, or more sprightly,
From temper-flaws unsightly.
What favour then not yet possessed
Can I for thee require,
To thy whole heart's desire?
None here is happy but in part:
Full bliss is bliss divine;
And doubtless one in thine.
That wish, on some fair future day,
Which fate shall brightly gild,
I wish it all, fulfilled.
ODE TO APOLLO.
ON AN INK-GLASS ALMOST DRIED IN THE SUN.
Patron of all those luckless brains,
That to the wrong side leaning
And little or no meaning.
Ah why, since oceans, rivers, streams,
That water all the nations,
In constant exhalations.
Why, stooping from the noon of day,
Too covetous of drink,
A poet's drop of ink?
Upborne into the viewless air,
It floats a vapour now,
By all the winds that blow.
Ordained perbaps tere -summer flies,
Combined with milions moro,
Though black and foul before.
Illustrious drop! and happy then
Beyond the happiest lot,
Phæbus, if such be thy design,
To place it in thy bow,
PAIRING TIME ANTICIPATED.
I Shall not ask Jean Jacques Rousseau",
It chanced then on a winter's day,
and wisdom than the most,
* It was one of the whimsical speculations of this philoso. pher, that all fables which ascribe reason and speech to animals should be withheld from children, as being only vehicles of deception. But what child was ever deceived by them, or can be, against the evidence of his senses?