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TRANSLATED BY THE LATE REV. W. B. STEVENS,
Wuly fall those tears on fair Asterie's breast?
Spring's earliest zephyrs shall restore ;
Thy lover to his native shore.
Whilst adverse tempests rend the deep :
Is but to think of thee, and weep.
And bids her prompted friend in vain,
The sighing progress of her pain.
How from the dame cold Peleus Aed,
The verge of Hell for Beauty's bed:
To heal a woman's wounded pride,
And the chaste fool had nearly died.
*." The true forte of Horace, in his Odes, is not perhaps the “ sublime. It seems to me that he is never so much at home as " when he expatiates upon common topics, where he can indulge " his genius in a certain vein of elegant familiarity,
In vain her treacherous eloquence assails
With soft insinuating aim,
His ears, his heart reject her claim.
Th'artillery of the wanton fair,
Ah, lest he charm too much beware!
The martial plain's superior pride ; What tho' his arms victoriously precede
Each youth who swims the Tuscan tide ; Still from thy threshold, at approach of eve,
Let thy barred gate his steps deny ;
With airs of tenderest minstrelsy,
But let the baffled gallant find,
He may not hope to prove thee kind !
TO MAJOR ROOKE, OF MANSFIELD,
for the last Two Years.
Come reach me old Anacreon's lyre,
For wint'ry snows are lowering near, And soon shall chill th' autumnal fire
That gleams on life's declining year. Then let me wake the rapturous shell,
With cords of sweet remembrance strung; While grateful Age delights to tell
Of joys that glow'd when life was young. And, lest'the languid pulse forego
The throb that Fancy's flight inspires, Anacreon's flowing cup bestow,
And urge with wine the waning fires. But temper me the Teian bowl!
And chasten me the Teian shell! The visions that in memory roll
Are such as Nature's bosom swell.
To no polluted ear addrest;
But boys that hang on Beauty's breast.
Where native Venus lights the way, Shall yet excursive Fancy rove,
Inebriate with the wanton lay.
If, while the mantling goblet flows,
I sing of Beauty's charms divine ; The breast that heaves, the cheek that glows,
And beaming eyes, like stars that shine;The draft on Memory's tablet true
That pictures each entrancing grace, Without a frown shall Stella view,
Or there some luv'd memorial trace. And when with high-enraptur'd air
My lavish verse shall most commend, She'll find her youthful image there,
Or in each portrait own a friend. Then reach me old Anacreon's lyre,
And temper me Anacreon's bowl; That youthful Joy's remember'd fire
May Age's numbing frost controul.
On a Lady's Fan of her own Painting.
The emblematic toy on which thy art,
Love's sacred altar, and the votive heart;
Th' insidious flame steals on him by degrees, Till with the rapture all his bosom burns, And his heart proves the sacrifice he sees.
R. FENTON, ESQ.
BY MR. SHAW,
O Thames with chrystal face,
And seats that princes grace,
Not where thy wave beside,
Resounds along thy tide,
Of courtly flatterers throng,
But where thy silver springs
take, Ere yet the shepherd they forsake,
To seek the seats of kings ; 0! Thames, there let me rear my bower, And deck it round with many a flower.