And warn her, as fhe priz'd her beauty,
To bend her humour to her duty.
All this the looking-glass achiev'd;
Its threats were minded, and believ'd.
The maid, who fpurn'd at all advice,
Grew tame and gentle in a trice:
So when all other means had fail'd,
The filent monitor prevail'd.

THE SLUGGARD.

'TIS the voice ofa fluggard—I heard him complain, "You have wak'd me too soon, I must flumber

again."

As the door on its hinges, fo he on his bed, Turns his fides and his fhoulders, and his heavy head.

"A little more fleep, and a little more flumber;" Thus he wastes half his days, and his hours without number:

And when he gets up, he fits folding his hands, Or walks about faunt'ring, or trifling he stands.

I pass' by his garden, and faw the wild brier, Thethorn, and thethiftle, grow broader and higher. The clothes that hang on him are turning to rags; And his moneystill wastes, tillhe starves or he begs.

I made him a vifit, ftill hoping to find
He had ta'en better care for improving his mind :
He told me his dreams, talk'dofeating and drinking:
But he scarce reads the Bible, and never loves
thinking.

Said I then to my heart, "Here's a leffon for me; That man's but a picture of what I might be : But thanks to my friends for their care in my breeding,

Who taught me betimes to love working and reading!"

ON EARLY RISING.

HOW foolish they who lengthen night,
And flumber in the morning light!

How fweet, at early morning's rife,
To view the glories of the skies,
And mark with curious eye the fun
Prepare his radiant course to run!
Its faireft form then nature wears,
And clad in brighteft green appears.
The fprightly lark, with artless lay,
Proclaims the entrance of the day.

How sweet to breathe the gale's perfume,
And feast the eyes with nature's bloom!
Along the dewy lawn to rove,

And hear the mufic of the grove!

Nor you, ye delicate and fair,
Neglect to taste the morning air;
This will your nerves with vigor brace,
Improve and heighten ev'ry grace;
Add to your breath a rich perfume;
And to your cheeks a fairer bloom:
With luftre teach your eyes to glow;
And health and cheerfulaefs beftow.

TO A REDBREAST.

LITTLE bird, with bofom red,
Welcome to my humble shed!
Daily near my table steal,
While I pick my scanty meal.
Doubt not, little though there be,
But I'll caft a crumb to thee:
Well rewarded, if I fpy

Pleasure in thy glancing eye;

See thee, when thou'ft eat thy fill,
Plume thy breast, and wipe thy bill.
Come, my feather'd friend, again!
Well thou know'ft the broken pane;
Afk of me thy daily ftore;
Ever welcome to my door!

THE ROSE.

HOW fair is the rofe! what a beautiful flow'r! In fummer fo fragrant and gay

!

But the leaves are beginning to fade in an hour, And they wither and die in a day.

Yet the rofe has one pow'rful virtue to boast,
Above all the flow'rs of the field:

When its leaves are all dead, and fine colours loft,
Still how how fweet a perfume it will yield!

So frail is the youth and the beauty of men,

Tho' they bloom and look gay like the rofe; For all our fond care to preserve them is vain ; Time kills them as fast as he goes.

Then I'll not be proud of my youth or my beauty, Since both of them wither and fade:

But gain a good name by performing my duty; This will scent like a rofe, when I'm dead.

TO A FLOWER.

CHILD of the fpring! fair opening flower!
I love thine early bloom;