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On a Bank as I fat Fishing.

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Defcription of the SPRING.

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By the fame Hand.

ND Now all Nature feem'd in Love,

The lufty Sap began to move,

New Juice did ftir th' embracing Vines,
And Birds had drawn their Valentines:
The jealous Trout, that low did lie,
Rofe at a well-diffembled Fly:

There stood my Friend, with patient Skill,

Attending of his trembling Quill.

Already were the Eves poffeft

With the fwift Pilgrim's daubed Neft:

The Groves already did rejoyce

In Philomel's triumphing Voice.

The Show'rs were fhort, the Weather mild,

The Morning fresh, the Ey'ning fmil'd.

JONE

JONE takes her neat-rub'd Pail, and now
She trips to milk the Sand-red Cow;
Where, for fome sturdy Foot-ball Swain,
JONE ftrokes a Sillabub or twain..

The Fields and Gardens were befet
With Tulip, Crocus, Violet,
And now, tho' late, the modeft Rofe
Did more than half a Blush disclose.
Thus all look'd gay, all full of chear,
To welcome the new-livery'd Year.

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TO

SLEEP.

OME gentle SLEEP, and as I lye,
Oh! bid the Hours fteal foftly by;
While in thy Still Pavilion laid,

I think upon the charming Maid;
Some Mimick-Dream on Fancy's Wing
Light-pois'd, command fuch Joys to bring,
Obedient to thy milder Sway,

As Tyrant-Love denies by Day.

Come fweet Seducers, whe restore

Sad Exiles to their Native Shore;

To his proud Hopes the Courtier raife,
And crown the youthful Bard with Praise,

Oh! come, and lavish all your Art,

To paint the Miftrefs of my Heart;

T

But

But make the lovely Phantom kind,

And blefs, while you deceive my Mind.

Like Egypt's Queen, her Charms difplay, And let me give the World away;

Or JUNO like, let her be feen,

(If JUNO's be fo bright a Mein)
When finiling, foft with languid Eyes,
Within the Chambers of the Skies,
She fondly tempts to Nuptial Love
The mighty Majefty of Fo v E.
In the warm Blush of Virgin-Bloom,
Conduct her to the Bridal-Room;
Ye Graces, there undrefs the Fair,
Ye Graces, loofe her gather'd Hair:
O come, and while my ravish'd View
This pleafing Shadow hall purfue,
Let my Refemblance be convey'd,
Indulgent to the Sleeping-Maid,
That both our Actions may agree,
Then fhall the Charmer think on me,

TRAN

TRANSLATION

O F

HORACE's

Second Epode.

OW Rich is he, who free from Care,
As the first happy Mortals were,
His fat paternal Acres plows,

No Mortgage, no Incumbrance knows?

He fhuns the Sea, the Camp, and Arms,
Where Trumpets found their fhrill Alarms;
He flies the noify Bench and Court,
And Leveè, where gay Slaves refort;
His only Care is, when to joyn
The lofty Elm, and tender Vine;

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