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Nor mild nor rigorous her mein,
But such as spoke intent benign,

Though purpos'd to upbraid ;
And thus, inclin'd at once to' excite
Regret, attemper'd with delight,

Severely kind, she said:
In Contemplation's bow'r reclined,
Have I so often calm'd thy mind

With soothing lays in vain ;
My lyre, in vain, so, often strung,
And with each fav'rite poet sung

To thee his choicest strain?

Let not this sly, insidious cheat,
With all his wiles, thy heart defeat,

But vindicate thy choice :
With courage own thy truest friend,
Nor fear to show thou dar'st attend

To mine, and Reason's voice.
Reflect on thy past happy state,
And call to mind, ere 'tis too late,

How well you once was taught To bid defiance to those cares, Which now you feel, and shần those snares,

In which you now are caught.
From Passion's meteor turn thy sight,
And let calm Reason's steady light

Thy footsteps always guide:
That only roves through Folly's chase,
But this leads Wisdom to the place
Where Truth and Peace reside.

At this Urania paus’d, to try
If Cupid chose to make reply

To aught she had express'd :
But ere suspense left either free,
The Hamadriad of the tree

Each party thus address'd:
The nymph, indeed, whose name I bear
May well deserve

your
rival

care,
But 'tis as mutual friends :
Your sev'ral gifts for her combine,
Nor ere, in such a cause, decline

To serve each other's ends.

Let her whose charms at once can raise
The lover's sigh, the poet's praise,

Your equal favour find:
No more each other's votries scorn,
While perfect grace and worth adorn

Her person and her mind!
And though you must not yet declare
To whom the fates reserve the fair,

This gentle youth direct,
If to his mind he can't be blest,
From envy to secure his breast,

And bear with cool neglect.
That face which jealousy can love,
That conduct censure must approve,

Permit him to admire:
But, Oh! with strength possess his soul
Each anxious passion to controul,

And check each fond desire.

ODE.

BY MR. SHAW.

WHILE I was absent from my fair,

Ye hours, I bad you speed your flight,
Swift as the winds that sweep the air,

Till Delia blest again my sight.
But then you crept with dull delay,

Regardless of a lover's pain;
And slowly brought at length the day

When Delia blest my eyes again.
Now when the nymph delights my sight,

Ye hours, I bid you softly stay
Your speed, nor with too hasty flight

The precious minutes bear away.
But now on swiftest wings ye move,

And now ye bring that moment near
Which parts me from the nymph I love,

And Delia sheds the tender tear.
O wayward hours, that slowly move,

Or swiftly at your pleasure glide,
Why are ye bent to cross my love,

And from my fair one to divide ?
Yet vain your malice is and art!

While you pursue your circling race,
You never from my constant heart

My Delia's image can efface. 17776.

TO A LADY, With a new Year's Gift ; the Author being accustomed tu

make her an Annual Present. 1764.

BY F. N. C. MUNDAY, ESQ.

In days of yore, as they record,
When all was carried by the sword ;
When folks took not the least delight in

ght on the earth of God, but fighting ;
A King sometimes, by way of riot,
Seeing his neighbours slept in quiet,
And little dream'd of harm, would therefore,
Without another why or wherefore,
Descend upon him sword in hand,
And rob him of his crown and land,
And then to shew his generosity,
Laying aside his late ferocity,
The Conqueror freely would restore
What strictly was the man's before,
Provided he, upon his knees,
Would swear to some such rules as thesc:
“ You vassal in my cause must fight,
“ Whether that cause be wrong or pight;
“ And without grumbling draw your sword,
“ Whene'er I please to give the word ;
" And when we meet, thus kneeling down,
“ Must do me homage for your crown:
And once a year, by way of token
“ That these your vows remain unbroken,

Some triding present let me have,
Deliver'd from you as my slave:
And, if it be not duly paid,

Depend upon't this trusty blade
“ Shall never rest within its sheath,
“ Until it has procur'd your death."-
-O'er neighbouring king, and subject peer,
The tyrant thus would domineer;
Whilst every baron in the nation,
Posess'd of king-like imitation,
The same allegiance would extort
From farmers at his country court:
And if he came not gift in hand,
Wou'd oust the villain from his land.
E'en in these present days full fifty
Good instances I soon cou'd give tye,
Where annual peppercorns are sent
By way of an acknowledgment.
“But whither does this story tend?
“ Sir, will you never make an end?"
Yes Ma'am, I've done with my relation,
Proceed we to the application :
As ancient monarchs by their bravery
Reduc'd their brother-kings to slavery;
As barons in subjection held
The rustic tillers of the field;
So you by one resistless glance,
Keener by far than sword or lance,
Enter'd my breast by means unfair,
And founded your dominion there."
Yes, tyrant, yės, too well ’tis known
My captive heart is all your own;
The wounds you gave will ever bleed-

" Sir to the point.”-Ma'am I proceed: As ancient peers, and ancient peasants Purchased their peace by annual presents,

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