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OLTAIRE, believe me, were I now

I
In private life's calm station plac’d,
Let heav'n for nature's wants allow,
With cold indiff'rence would I view
Departing Fortune's winged haite,
And laugh at her caprice like you.
Th' infipid farce of tedious state,
Imperial duty's real weight,
The faithless courtier's supple bow,
The fickle multitude's caress,
And the great Vulgar's Littleness,
By long experience well I know :
And, tho' a Prince and Poet born,
Vain blandishments of glory scorn.
For when the ruthless Mears of Fate
Have cut my life's precarious thread,
And rank'd me with th' unconscious dead,
What wilt avail that I was great,

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Or that th’ uncertain tongue of Fame
In Mem'rys temple chaunts my name?
One blissful moment whilst we live
Weighs more than ages of renown;
What then do Potentates receive
Of good, peculiarly their own?
Sweet Ease and anaffected Joy,
Domestic Peace, and sportive Pleasure,
The regal throne and palace fly,
And, born for liberty, prefer
Soft silent scenes of lovely leisure,
To, what we Monarchs buy so dear,
The thorny pomp of scepter'd care.
My pain or bliss Mall ne'er depend
On fickle Fortune's casual fight,
For, whether the's my foe or friend,
In calm repofe I'll pass the night;
And ne'er by watchful homage own
I court her smile, or fear her frown.
But from our stations we derive
Unerring precepts how to live,
And certain deeds each rank calls forth,
By which is measur'd human worth.
Voltaire, within his private cell,
In realms where ancient honeity
Is patrimonial property,
And sacred Freedom loves to dwell,
May give up all his peaceful mind,
Guided by Plato's deathless page,

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In filent solitude resign'd
To the mild virtues of a Sage;
But I, 'gainst whom wild whirlwinds wage
Fierce war with wreck-denouncing wing,
Must be, to face the tempest's rage,
In thought, in life, in death, a King.

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aspice vultus
Ecce meos : utinamque oculos in pectore polles
Inferere, et patrias intus defendere curas.

OVID. MITAM,

Deep

E er in a grove by cypress shaded,

Where mid-day sun had seldom Thone, Or noise the folemn scene invaded,

Save some afflicted muse's moan,

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A swain t'wards full-ag'd manhood wending

Sat sorrowing at the close of day, At whose fond fide a boy attending

Lisp'd half his father's cares away.

I

The father's eyes no object wrested,

But on the smiling prattler hung,
Till, what his throbbling heart suggested,

These accents trembled from his tongue.

“ My youth's first hopes, my manhood's treasure,

“ My prattling Innocent, attend, “ Nor fear rebuke, or four displeasure, 15

“ A father's loveliest name is friend.

« Some truths, from long experience flowing,

• Worth more than royal grants receive, • For truths are wealth of heav'n's bestowing,

" Which kings have seldom power to give. 2.

“ Since from an ancient race descended “ You boast an unattainted blood,

be their fair fame attended, “ And claim by birth-right to be good.

• By yours

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“ In love for ev'ry fellow-creature,

Superior rise above the crowd ; • What most ennobles human nature

“ Was ne'er the portion of the proud.

“ Be thine the gen’rous heart that borrows

“ From others' joys a friendly glow, “ And for each hapless neighbour's sorrows

« Throbs with a sympathetic woe.

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« This is the temper moft endearing ;

“ Tho' wide proud Pomp her banners spreads, “ An heav'nlier pow'r good-nature bearing 35

“ Each heart in willing thraldom leads.

- Taste not from fame's uncertain fountain

“ The peace-destroying streams that flow, “ Nor from ambition's dang’rous mountain

“ Look down upon the world below.

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“ The princely pine on hills exalted,

“ Whose lofty branches cleave the sky, By winds, long brav’d, at last assaulted, “ Is headlong whirl'd in duft to lie;

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" Whilft the mild rose more safely growing

“ Low in its unaspiring vale, “ Amidst retirement's shelter blowing,

“ Exchanges sweets with ev'ry gale.

“ Wish not for beauty's darling features

• Moulded by nature's fondling pow'r, " For fairelt forms ’mong human creatures

“ Shine but the pageants of an hour.

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