Then here I'll sit, and sigh my hot love's folly, Sir H. Wotton. ON THE DEATH OF MISS LENNOX. So blooms the rose, when vernal gales Ah! short-liv'd flower, ah! hapless fair! Say, shall th' impassion'd bosom grieve Or shall we, with faith's steady eye, Whilst heav'n's eternal year is thine? TO THE NOBILITY, GENTRY, &c. THE HUMBLE PETITION OF WANT AND MISERY. WHILE thro' the waste of frost and snow, O cast a tender eye! For this good end your wealth was giv'n; While cloth'd in fur you stand elate, When cold and hunger both prevail, To wound a mortal frame, And almost wants a name. The parent hears his offspring cry, And sorrow rends the air. Tho' worthless objects may be found, Leave them to Heav'n, while you dispense How many pray'rs you'll then obtain ! Unworthily bestow'd! From morn to night, from night to day, Poor Want and Misery will pray, To bless the great and good. Addison's Anecdotes. IMPROMPTU TO MR. HENRY SNART, WRITING-MASTER, THREE beauties once so dimm'd young Paris' eyes, He hardly knew which best deserv'd the prize; And you had wrote against a world of men, TRUE RICHES. I AM not concern'd to know What to-morrow's fate will do: 'Tis enough that I can say Yet to-morrow I shall be Heir to the best part of me. Glitt'ring stones and golden things, Wealth and honours that have wings, Ever flutt'ring to be gone, I could never call my own: Riches that the world bestows, She can take, and I can lose; But the treasures that are mine, Lie afar beyond her line: When I view my spacious soul, And survey myself a whole, And enjoy myself alone, I'm a kingdom of my own. I've a mighty part within That the world hath never seen, Rich as Eden's happy ground, And with choicest plenty crown'd. Here, on all the shining boughs, Fruits refin'd of noble taste; Now, upon some shining top, There are endless beauties more Earth hath no resemblance for ; Nothing like them round the pole, Nothing can describe the soul; 'Tis a region half unknown, That has treasures of its own, More remote from public view Than the bowels of Peru; Broader 'tis and brighter far Than the golden Indies are : |