* The frighted birds the rattling branches fhun, That wave and glitter in the distant fun.
When, if a sudden gust of wind arise,
The brittle foreft into atoms flies:
The crackling wood beneath the tempeft bends,
And in a spangled show'r the prospect ends.
Or, if a fouthern gale the region warm,
And by degrees unbind the wint❜ry charm;
The traveller a miry country fees,
And journeys fad beneath the dropping trees.
Like fome deluded peafant, Merlin leads Through fragrant bow'rs, and through delicious meads;
While here enchanted gardens to him rife,
And airy fabrics there attract his eyes;
His wand'ring feet the magic paths purfue,
And while he thinks the fair illufion true,
The trackle's fcenes difperfe in fluid air,
And woods and wilds, and thorny ways appear;
A tedious road the weary wretch returns,
And as he goes the tranfient vifion mourns.
Copenhagen, March 9th, 1709.
DEAR Chloe, while the busy crowd,
'The vain, the wealthy, and the proud,
In folly's maze advance;
Though fingularity and pride
Be call'd our choice, we'll ftep afide,
Nor join the giddy dance.
From the gay world we'll oft retire
To our own family and fire,
Where love our hours employs :
No noify neighbours enter here,
No intermeddling stranger near,
To spoil our heart-felt joys.
If folid happiness we prize,
Within our breaft this jewel lies;
And they are fools who roam:
The world has nothing to bestow,
From our own felves our joys must flow,
And that dear hut, our home.
Of reft was Noah's dove bereft,
When with impatient wing the left
That fafe retreat the ark ;
Giving her vain excursion o'er,
The difappointed bird once more
Explor'd the facred bark.
Though fools fpurn Hymen's gentle pow'rs,
We, who improve his golden hours,
By fweet experience know,
That marriage, rightly understood,
Gives to the tender and the good
A paradife below.
Our babes fhall richeft comforts bring:
If tutor’d right, they'll prove a fpring
Whence pleasures ever rife:
We'll form their minds with ftudious care,
To all that's manly, good, and fair,
And train them for the fkies.
While they our wifeft hours engage,
They'll joy our youth, fupport our age,
And crown our hoary hairs:
They'll grow in virtue every day,
And thus our fondeft loves repay,
And recompenfe our cares.
No borrow'd joys! they're all our own,
While to the world we live unknown,
Or by the world forgot:
Monarchs! we envy not your state,
We look with pity on the great,
And blefs our humbler lot.
Our portion is not large indeed,
But then, how little do we need !
For nature's calls are few:
In this the art of living lies,
To make no more than may fuffice,
And make that little do.
W'ell therefore relish with content
Whate'er kind Providence has fent,
Nor aim beyond our pow'r;
For if our stock be very small,
'Tis prudence to enjoy it all,
Nor lofe the prefent hour.
To be refign'd, when ills betide,
Patient, when favours are deny'd,
And pleas'd with favours giv'n, Dear Chloe, this is wifdom's part, This is that incenfe of the heart
Whofe fragrance fmells to heav'n.
We'll afk no long protracted treat
(Since winter life is feldom fweet ;)
But when our feast is o'er,
Grateful from table we'll arise,
Nor grudge our fons with envious eyes
The relics of our store.
Thus hand in hand through life we'll go,
Its checquer'd paths of joy and woe
With cautious steps we'll tread;
Quit its vain fcenes without a tear,
Without a trouble or a fear,
And mingle with the dead:
While Confcience, like a faithful friend,
Shall through the gloomy vale attend,
And cheer our dying breath:
Shall, when all other comforts cease,
Like a kind angel whifper peace,
And fmooth the bed of death.
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