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THE POET'S NEW-YEAR'S GIFT.

THE POET'S NEW-YEAR'S GIFT.

TO MRS. (NOW LADY) THROCKMORTON.

MARIA! I have every good

For thee wished many a time,
Both fad, and in a cheerful mood,
But never yet in rhime.

To with thee fairer is no need,
More prudent, or more sprightly,
Or more ingenious, or more freed
From temper-flaws unfightly.

What favour then not yet poffeffed
Can I for thee require,

In wedded love already bleft,

To thy whole heart's defire?

None here is happy but in part:
Full blifs is blifs divine;

'There dwells fome wifh in every heart,
And doubtlefs one in thine.

That wifh on fome fair future day,
Which fate fhall brightly gild,

("Tis blameless, be it what it may)
I with it all fulfilled,

ODE TO APOLLO.

ON AN INK-GLASS ALMOST DRIED IN THE SUN.

PATRON of all those luckless brains,
That to the wrong fide leaning
Indite much metre with much pains,
And little or no meaning.

Ah why, fince oceans, rivers, ftreams,
That water all the nations,

Pay tribute to thy glorious beams,
In conftant exhalations,

Why, ftooping from the noon of day,

Too covetous of drink, Apollo, haft thou ftolen away

A poet's drop of ink?

Upborne into the viewless air

It floats a vapour now,

Impelled through regions denfe and rare,

By all the winds that blow.

Ordained perhaps ere fummer flies, Combined with millions more, To form an Iris in the skies, Though black and foul before.

Illuftrious drop! and happy then
Beyond the happiest lot,
Of all that ever paft my pen,
So foon to be forgot!

Phœbus, if fuch be thy defign,
To place it in thy bow,

Give wit, that what is left may shine
With equal grace below.

PAIRING TIME ANTICIPATED.

A FABLE.

I SHALL not ask Jean Jaques Rouffeau,*

If birds confabulate or no ;

'Tis clear that they were always able
To hold discourse, at leaft in fable;

And e'en the child who knows no better,
Than to interpret by the letter,

A ftory of a cock and bull,

Muft have a moft uncommon skull.
It chanced then on a winter's day,
But warm, and bright, and calm as May,
The birds, conceiving a defign

To foreftall sweet St. Valentine,

In many an orchard, copfe, and grove,

Affembled on affairs of love,

And with much twitter and much chatter,
Began to agitate the matter.

* It was one of the whimsical speculations of this philofopher, that all fables, which ascribe reason and speech to animals, should be withheld from children, as being only vehicles of deception. But what child was ever deceived by them, or can be, against the evidence of his fenfest

274..

RAIRING TIME ANTICIPATED.

At length a Bulfinch, who could boast
More years and wisdom than the moft,
Entreated, opening wide his beak,
A moment's liberty to speak;
And, filence publicly enjoined,
Delivered briefly thus his mind.

My friends! be cautious how ye treat
The fubject, upon which we meet ;
I fear we shall have winter yet.

A Finch, whofe tongue knew no controll, With golden wing, and fatin pole,

A laft year's bird, who ne'er had tried
What marriage means, thus pert replied.
Methinks the gentleman, quoth she,
Oppofite in the apple-tree,

By his good will would keep us fingle
Till yonder heaven and earth shall mingle,

Or (which is likelier to befall)

Till death exterminate us all.
I marry without more ado,

My dear Dick Redcap, what say you?

Dick heard, and tweedling, ogling, bridling, Turning fhort round, ftrutting and fideling, Attefted, glad, his approbation

Of an immediate conjugation.