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VALENTINE'S DAY.

THE tuneful choir in amorous ftrains,
Accoft their, feather'd loves,

While each fond mate with equal pains
The tender fuit approves!

With chearful hop from fpray to fpray,
They sport along the meads;**

In focial blifs together ftray,

Where love or fancy leads.

Thro' Spring's gay scenes each happy pair Their flutt'ring joys pursue;

Its various charms and produce share,

For ever kind and true.

Their fprightly notes from every fhaden
Their mutual loves proclaim;
Till Winter's chilling blast invade,
And damp th' enlivening flame.

Then all the jocund féene declines,
Nor woods nor meads delight,
The drooping tribe in fecret pines,
And mourns th' unwelcome fight.

Go, blissful warbler! timely wife,
Th' inftructive moral tell;

Nor thou their meaning lays defpife,
My charming Annabelle!

THE INVOCATION.

TO MIRA,

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THE faireft flower that fips the dew,
And fheds the rich perfume,
Than lovely Mira is less sweet,

And lefs its beauteous bloom,

The rofe-bud bursting into day,
By no rude touch defil'd,

Is not more pure than Mira's heart,
Nor vernal funs more mild.

If, Venus, with a favoring ear
Thou ever heardst a prayer,

This blooming flower protect and guide
With all a parents care!

Let no rude storm, no chilling air, '

Prevent her opening charms ;

And should a danger hover near,
O fhield her in thy arms!

IAGO.

So when Time ripens every grace,
And calls forth every sweet,

In her, each heart will own thy fway,
And worship at thy feet.

MAVOR

ODE ON SOLITUDE.

WRITTEN WHEN THE AUTHOR WAS ABOUT TWELVE YEARS OLD.

HAPPY the man whofe with and care

A few paternal acres bound,

Content to breath his native air

On his own ground.

Whofe herds with milk, whofe felds of bread,
Whofe flocks fupply him with attire ;
Whofe trees in Summer yield him shade,
In Winter fire.

Bleft who can unconcern'dly find
Hours, days, and years flide for away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,

Sound fleep by night; ftudy and ease,
Together mix'd; fweet recreation,
And innocence, which most does please
With meditation.

Thus let me live, unfeen, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me die,

Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.

PORE.

THE MORNING LARK,

ANACREONTIC.

FEATHER'd lyric! warbling high,
Sweetly gaining on the fky,

Op'ning with thy matin lay

(Nature's hymn!) the eye of day,
Teach my foul, on early wing,
Thus to foar, and thus to fing.
While the bloom of orient light
Gilds thee in thy tuneful flight,
May the day-fpring from on high,
Seen by Faith's religious eye,
Chear me with his vital ray,
Promise of eternal day!

THOMSON.

A SUMMER EVENING.

HOW fine has the day been, how bright was the fun,

How lovely and joyful the course that he run,
Tho' he rofe in a mift when his race he begun,

And there follow'd fome dropping of rain!
But now the fair traveller's come to the west,
His rays are all gold, and his beauties are best;
He paints the sky gay as he finks to his reft,
And foretells a bright rifing again.

Juft fuch is the Chriftian: his courfe he begins, Like the fun in a mist, while he mourns for his

fins,

And melts into tears: when he breaks out and

fhines,

And travels his heavenly way;

But when he comes nearer to finish his race,
Like a fine fetting fun he looks richer in grace,

And gives a fure hope at the end of his days,
Of rifing in brighter array.

WATTS

D

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