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III.
But Venus, suffering not her favourite worm
For aye to sleepen in his filky tomb,
Instructs him to throw off his pristine form,
And the gay features of a fly affume;
When, lo! eftfoons from the surrounding gloom,
He vigorous breaks, forth issuing from the wound
His horny beak had made, and finding room,

On new-plum’d pinions flutters all around,
And buzzing speaks his joy in most expreffive found.

IV.
So may the God of Science and of Wit,
With pitying eye ken thee his darling son ;
Shake from thy fatty sides the slumberous fit,
In which, alas ! thou art fo woe begon!
Or with his pointed arrows goad thee on;
Till thou refeeleft life in all thy veins;
And, on the wings of Resolution,

Like thine own hero dight, fliest o'er the plains,
Chaunting his peerless praise in never-dying strains.

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CON

CO N I E N T S

OF

Τ Η Σ

F I R S T V O L V M E.

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