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O thou, whose glory Alls 1 pral throne, And all re deathless powers! pro.e.t my son! Grant him, like me, to purchase just renown, To guard the Trojans, to defend the cro'vn, Against his country's foes the war to wage And rise the Hector of the future age ! So when triumphant from successful toils, Of heroes slain he bears the reeking spoils, Whole hosts may hail him with deserv'd acclaim, And say,
this chief transcends his father's fame: While pleas'd amidst the general shouts of Troy, His moiher's conscious heart o'erflows with joy.
He spoke, and fondly gazing on her charms, Restor'd the pleasing burden to her arms; Soft on her fragrant breast the babe she laid, Hush'd to repose, and with a smile survey’d. The troubled pleasure soon chastis'd by fear, She mingled with the smile a tender tear. The sofiei'd chief with kind compassion view'il, And dry’d the falling drops, and thus pursu'd :
Andromache! my soul's far better part, Why with untimely sorrows heaves thy heart No hostile hand can antedate my doom, Till fate condemns me to the silent tomb. Fix'd is the term to all the race of earth, And such' the hard condition of our birth: No force can then resist, no flight can save, All sink alike, the fearful and the brave. No more-but hasten to thy tasks at home, There guide the spindle, and direct the loom, Me glory summons to the martial scene, The field of combat is the sphere for men. Where heroes war, the foremost place I claim, The first in danger, as the first in fame.
Thus having said, the glorious chief resumes His towery helmet, black with shading plumes, His princess parts with a prophetic sigh, Unwilling parts, and oft reverts her eye, That stream'd at every look: then moving slow, Sought her own palace, and indulg'd her wo.
There while her tears deplor'd the godlike man,
THE PROGRESS OF DISCONTENT.
WHEN now mature in classic knowledge,
My son's a very forward youth;
Our pupil's hopes, though twice defeated,
dark he smokes and puns,
When nine full tedionis winters past, That utmost wish is crown'd at last: But the rich prize no sooner got, Again he quarrels with his lot: “These fellowships are pretty things, -- We live indeed like petty kings: * But who can bear to waste his whole age * Amid the dulness of a college, “ Debarr'd the common joys of life, “And that prime bliss-a loving wife! "O! what's a table richly spread, " Without a woman at its head! * Would some snug benefice but fall, “Ye feasts, ye dinners! farewell all! « To offices I'd bid adieu, “Of dean, vice præs.-of'bursar too; “Come, joys, that rural quiet yields, "Come, tithes, and house, and fruitful fields!"
Too fond of liberty and ease
For fuel here's sufficient wood: “Pray God the cellars may be good! “The garden-that must be new plann'd ** Shall these old-fashion'd yew-trees stand? “O'er yonder vacant plot shall rise “ The flow'ry shrub of thousand dies:"Yon wall that feels the southern ray, u Shall blush with ruddy fruitage gay; “ While thick beneath its aspect warm, “O'er well-rang'd hives the bees shall swarm, ~ From which, ere long, of golden gleam Metbeglin's lusciouş juice shall stream:
« This awkward hut o'ergrown with ivy, • We'll alter to a modern privy;
• Up yon green slope, of hazels trim, « An avenue so cool and dim, “ Shall to an arbour, at the end, “In spite of gout, entice a friend.
My predecessor lov'd devotion“ But of a garden had no notion.”
Continuing this fantastic farce on,
Thus fix'd, content he taps his barrel,
But ah! too soon his thoughtless breast
For children fresh expenses yet,
(He cries) for benefice and wife?
My thoughts no christ'ning dinner crost,
Oh! trifling head, and fickle hart;
THE MODERN RAKE'S PROGRESS.
The young Tobias was his father's joy ;