Just then, by adverse fate impress'd, In fleep he seem'd to view A rat, faft-clinging to the cage, For, aided both by ear and scent, Minute the horrors that enfued; His teeth were strong, the cage was woodHe left poor Bully's beak. He left it but he fhould have ta'en Might have repaid him well, I wot, Maria weeps-The Muses mourn→ The tree-enchanter Orpheus fell; The cruel death he died. THE rofe had been wash'd, just wash'd in a fhower, The plentiful moisture incumber'd the flower, The cup was all fill'd, and the leaves were all wet, Το weep for the buds it had left with regret, On the flourishing bush where it grew. I hastily seiz'd it, unfit as it was, For a nofegay, fo dripping and drown'd, And fuch, I exclaim'd, is the pitiless part This elegant rofe, had I fhaken it lefs, Might have bloom'd with its owner a while, And the tear that is wip'd with a little addrefs, May be follow'd perhaps by a smile. THE POET'S NEW-YEAR'S GIFT. TO MRS THROCKMORŢon. MARIA! I have ev'ry good For thee wifh'd many a time, Both fad, and in a cheerful mood, But never yet in rhime, To wish thee fairer is no need, What favour, then, not yet poffefs'd, In wedded love already bleft, To thy whole heart's defire? None here is happy but in part; There dwells fome wish in ev'ry heart, And, doubtlefs, one in thine. That wish, on some fair future day, ODE TO APOLLO. ON AN INK-GLASS ALMost dried IN THE SUN. PATRON of all thofe lucklefs brains, That, to the wrong fide leaning, Ah why, fince oceans, rivers, streams, Why, ftooping from the noon of day, Upborne into the viewless air, It floats a vapour now, Impell'd through regions denfe and rare, |