And beg'd he'd tell 'em, if he knew,
Whether the thing was green or blue.
Sirs, cries the umpire, ceafe your pother-
"The creature's neither one nor t' other.
"I caught the animal last night,
"And view'd it o'er by candle-light:
"I mark'd it well-'twas black_as jet-
"You ftare-but Sirs, I've got it yet,
"And can produce it."" Pray, Sir, do:
"I'll lay my life, the thing is blue."
"And I'll be fworn, that when you've seen
"The reptile, you'll pronounce him green."
"Well then, at once to ease the doubt,
Replies the man, I'll turn him out: "And when before your eyes I've fet him,
If you don't find him black, I'll eat him."
He faid; then full before their fight Produc'd the beast, and lo! 'twas white.Both ftar'd, the man look'd wond'rous wifeMy children," the Camelion cries,
(Then first the creature found a tongue)
"You all are right, and all are wrong:
"When next you talk of what you view,
"Think others fee, as well as you:
"Nor wonder, if you find that none
"Prefers your eye-fight to his own.”
IMMORTALITY: or, the Confolation of
HUMAN LIFE. A MONODY.
By THOMAS DENTON, M. A.
Animi natura videtur
Atque anima claranda meis jam verfibus effe:
Et metus ille foras præceps Acheruntis agendus
Funditus, humanam qui vitam turbat ab imo,
Omnia fuffundus mortis nigrore.
HEN black-brow'd Night her dufky mantle spread,
WHEN wack lemn
And wrapt in folemn gloom the fable sky;
When foothing Sleep her opiate dews had thed,
And feal'd in filken flumbers ev'ry eye ́:
My wakeful thoughts admit no balmy reft,
Nor the fweet blifs of foft oblivion share;
But watchful wae diftracts my aching breast,
My heart the fubject of corroding care :
From haunts of men with wand'ring steps and flow
I folitary steal, and footh my penfive woe.
Yet no fell paffion's rough discordant rage
Untun'd the mufic of my tranquil mind;
Ambition's tinfell'd charms could ne'er engage,
No harbour there could fordid av'rice find:
From luft's foul spring my grief disdains to flow,
No figlis of envy from my bofom break,
But foft compaffion melts my foul to woe,
And focial tears faft trickle down my cheek;
Ah me! when nature gives one general groan,
Each heart must beat with woe, each voice responsive moan.
III.
Where'er I caft my moist'ned eyes around,
Or stretch my profpect o'er the distant land, There foul Corruption's tainted fteps are found, And Death grim-vifag'd waves his iron hand. Tho' now foft Pleasure gild the fmiling scene, And sportive Joy call forth her festive train, Sinking in night each vital form is feen,
Like air-blown bubbles on the wat'ry plain;
Fell Death, like brooding Harpy, the repaft
Will fnatch with talons foul, or four its grateful taste.
IV.
Ye fmiling glories of the youthful year,
That ope your fragrant bofoms to the day,
That clad in all the pride of fpring appear,
And steep'd in dew your filken leaves difplay:
In Nature's richest robes tho' thus bedight,
Tho' her foft pencil trace your various dye,
Tho' lures your rofeate hue the charmed fight,
Tho' odours fweet your nect'rous breath supply,
Soon on your leaves Time's cank'rous tooth shall prey,
Your dulcet dews exhale, your beauteous bloom decay.
a Vid. VIRG. Æn. lib. 3. ver, 210. & feq.
Ye hedge-row elms, beneath whose spreading shade
The grazing herds defy the ratt'ling shower;
Ye lofty oaks, in whose wide arms display'd
The clam'rous rook builds high his airy bower;
Stript by hoar Winter's rough inclement rage,
In mournful heaps your leafy honours lie,
Ev'n your hard ribs fhall feel the force of age,
And your bare trunks the friendly fhade deny;
No more by cheerful vegetation green,
Your fapless bolls fhall fink, and quit th' evanid scene.
VI.
Ye feather'd warblers of the vernal year
That careless fing, nor fear the frowns of fate,
fad notes to death and winter drear!
Ill fuit these mirthful strains your tranfient state.
No more with cheerful fong nor fprightly air
Salute the blushes of the rifing day,
With doleful ditties, drooping wings repair
To the lone covert of the nightly spray:
Where love-lorn Philomela ftrains her throat,
Surround the budding thorn, and swell the mournful note.
VII.
Come, fighing Elegy, with fweetest airs
Of melting mufic teach my grief to flow,
I too must mix my fad complaint with theirs,
Our fates are equal, equal be our woe.
Come, Melancholy, spread thy raven wing,
And in thy ebon car, by Fancy led,
To the dark charnel vault thy vot❜ry bring,
The murky manfions of the mould'ring dead,
Where dank dews breathe, and taint the fickly skies,
Where in fad loathsome heaps all human glory lies..
VIII.
Wrapt in the gloom of uncreated night
Secure we slept in senseless matter's arms,
Nor pain could vex, nor pallid fear affright,
Our quiet fancy felt no dream's alarms.
Soon as to life our animated clay
Awakes, and conscious being opes our eyes, Care's fretful family at once difmay,
With ghaftly air a thousand phantoms rife, Sad Horror hangs o'er all the deep'ning gloom, Grief prompts the labour'd figh, Death opes the marble tomb.
Yet life's ftrong love intoxicates the soul,
And thirst of blifs inflames the fev'rous mind,
With eager draughts we drain the pois'nous bowl,
And in the dregs the cordial hope to find.
O heav'n! for this light end were mortals made,
And plac'd on earth, with happiness in view,
To catch with cheated grafp the flitting shade,
And with vain toil the fancied form pursue,
Then give their short-liv'd being to the wind,
As the wing'd arrow flies, and leaves no track behind!
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