Ir is not youth can give content,
Nor is it wealth's decree;
It is a gift from heaven sent,
Though not to thee or me.
It is not in the monarch's crown,
Though he'd give millions for't;
It dwells not in his Lordship's frown,
Or waits on him to Court.
It is not in a coach and six,
It is not in a garter;
"Tis not in love, or politics,
But 'tis in Hodge the carter.
A MODERN SAMSON.
JACK, eating mitey cheese, did say,
"Like Samson, I my thousands slay."
"I vow, quoth Roger, so you do,
And with the self-same weapon too."
ON GOD'S OMNIPOTENCE.
WHEN Egypt's host God's chosen tribe pursued,
In crystal walls the admiring waters stood;
When through the dreary wastes they took their way,
The rocks relented, and poured forth a sea!
What limit can the Almighty goodness know,
Since seas can harden, and since rocks can flow?
THE world's a book, writ by the eternal art
Of the great Author; printed in man's heart;
"Tis falsely printed, though divinely penned;
And all the errata will appear at the end.
WHEN men of infamy to grandeur soar,
They light a torch to show their shame the more.
WHAT'S HONOUR?
NOT to be captious; not unjustly fight;
'Tis to confess what's wrong-and do what's right ?
THE DOCTOR AND HIS PATIENT.
"SLEPT you well ?" "Very well." "My draught did good." "It did no harm; for yonder it hath stood."
TO A YOUNG GENTLEMAN.
NATURE has done her part :-do thou but thine;
Learning and sense let decency refine.
For vain applause transgress not Virtue's rules:
A witty sinner is the worst of fools.
OCCASIONED BY THE WORDS "ONE PRIOR" IN
BURNET'S HISTORY.
ONE Prior!-and is this, this all the fame
The poet from the historian can claim ?
No; Prior's verse posterity shall quote,
When 'tis forgot one Burnet ever wrote.
As I walked by myself, I said to myself,
And myself said again to me,
Look to thyself, take care of thyself,
For nobody cares for thee;
Then said I to myself, and thus answered myself,
With the self-same repartee,
Look to thyself, or look not to thyself,
'Tis the self-same thing to me.
OUR bodies are like shoes, which off we cast;
Physic their cobbler is, and Death the last.
ON THE WEDDING RING.
THIS precious emblem well doth represent
'Tis evenness that crowns us with content,
Which, when it wanting is, the sacred yoke
Becomes uneasy, and with ease is broke.
TO A BAD FIDDLER.
OLD Orpheus played so well he moved Old Nick,
But thou moved nothing but thy fiddlestick.
You beat your brow and fancy wit will come;
Knock as you please, there's nobody at home.
SEE a pin and pick it up,
All the day you'll have good luck.
See a pin and let it lay,
Bad luck you'll have all the day.
As the rose of the valley, when dripping with dew,
Is the sweetest in odour, and brightest in hue:
So the glance of dear woman most lovely appears,
When it beams from her eloquent eye through her tears.
THE CUPBEARER.
(FROM THE ARABIC.)
COME, Leila, fill the goblet up,
Reach round the rosy wine,
Think not that we will take the cup,
From any hand but thine.
A draught like this 'twere vain to seck,
Νο grape can such supply,
It steals its tint from Leila's cheek,
Its brightness from her eye.
WHY all this toil for triumphs of an hour?
What though we wade in wealth or soar in fame?
Earth's highest station ends in "Here he lies :"
And "Dust to dust" concludes her noblest song.
THE boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Await alike the inevitable hour;
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault,
If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise,
Where, through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault,
The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
Can storied urn, or animated bust,
Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath?
Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust,
Or flattery soothe the dull cold ear of Death?
HERE are the Prude severe, and gay Coquette,
The sober Widow, and the young green Virgin,
Cropped like a rose before 'tis fully blown,
Or half its worth disclosed. Strange medley here!
Here garrulous Old Age winds up his tale;
And Jovial Youth, of lightsome, vacant heart,
Whose every day was made of melody,
Hears not the voice of mirth: the shrill-tongued Shrew,
Meek as the turtle-dove, forgets her chiding.
Here are the Wise, the Generous, and the Brave;
The Just, the Good, the Worthless, the Profane;
The downright Clown, and perfectly Well-bred;
The Fool, the Churl, the Scoundrel, and the Mean.
ON Life's wild ocean, sorrowful and pained,
How many voyagers their course perform!
This little bark a kinder fate obtained,
It reached the harbour ere it met the storm.
ON JOHN UNDERWOOD.
Au, cruel Death! that dost no good,
With thy destructive maggots,
Now thou hast cut down Underwood,
What shall we do for faggots ?
LIVE well, die never :
Die well, live for ever.
ON TWO YOUNG CHILDREN.
ERE sin could blight, or sorrow fade,
Death came with friendly care,
The opening buds to Heaven conveyed,
And bade them blossom there.
FROM THE FRENCH.
CARELESS aud thoughtless ail my life,
Stranger to every source of strife,
And deeming each grave sage a fool,
The law of Nature was my rule,
By which I learnt to duly measure
My portion of desire and pleasure.
Tis strange that here I lie, you see,
For Death must have indulged a whim;
At any time to have thought of me,
Who never once did think of him.
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