Or chill'd by Age, their airy dance
They leave, in dust to rest.

Methinks I hear in accents low

The sportive kind reply:

Poor moralist! and what art thou?

A solitary fly!

Thy joys no glittering female meets, No hive hast thou of hoarded sweets, No painted plumage to display:

On hasty wings thy youth is flown; Thy sun is set, thy spring is gone--We frolic, while 'tis May.

ODE II.

ON THE

DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT,

Drowned in a Tub of Gold Fishes.

TWAS on a lofty vase's side,
Where China's gayest art had dy'd
The azure flowers, that blow;
Demurest of the tabby kind,
The pensive Selima reclin❜d,
Gazed on the lake below.

Her conscious tail her joy declar'd;
The fair round face, the snowy beard,
The velvet of her paws,

Her coat, that with the tortoise vies,
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,
She saw; and purr'd applause.

Still had she gaz'd; but 'midst the tide Two angel forms were seen to glide,

The Genii of the stream:

Their scaly armour's Tyrian hue

Thro' richest purple to the view
Betray'd a golden gleam.

The hapless Nymph with wonder saw :
A whisker first and then a claw,
With many an ardent wish,

She stretch'd in vain to reach the prize.
What female heart can gold despise?
What Cat's averse to fish?

Presumptuous Maid! with looks intent
Again she stretch'd, again she bent,
Nor knew the gulf between.
(Malignant fate sat by, and smil❜d)

The slipp'ry verge her feet beguil'd,
She tumbled headlong in.

Eight times emerging from the flood
She mew'd to ev'ry wat'ry God,
Some speedy aid to send.

No Dolphin came, no Nereid stirr'd:

Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard.

A Fav'rite has no friend!

From hence, ye Beauties undeceiv'd, Know, one false step is ne'er retriev'd, And be with caution bold.

Not all that tempts your wand'ring eyes And heedless hearts, is lawful prize; Nor all, that glisters, gold,

ODE III.

ON

A DISTANT PROSPECT

OF

ETON COLLEGE.

Ανθρωπος ἱκανὴ πρόφασις εἰς τὸ δυςυχεῖν.

MENANDER.

YE distant spires, ye antique towers,

That crown the wat❜ry glade,

Where grateful Science still adores
Her HENRY's holy Shade;

And ye, that from the stately brow
Of WINDSOR's heights th' expanse below

* King HENRY the Sixth, Founder of the College.