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And beg'd he'd tell 'em, if he knew,
Whether the thing was green or blue.

“ Sirs, cries the umpire, cease your pother-
• The creature's neither one nor-ť 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 stare_but Sirs, I've

got “ And can produce it." “ Pray, Sir, do:

I'll lay my life, the thing is blue.” “ And I'll be sworn, 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: ss And when before your eyes I've set him, “ If you don't find him black, I'll eat him.”

He said ; then full before their fight Produc'd the beast, and lo! 'twas white, Both star'd, the man look'd wond'rous wise --

My 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 see, as well as you : “ Nor wonder, if you find that none Prefers your eye-light to his own.”

Vol. V.



IMMORTALITY: or, the Confolation of



Animi natura videtur
Atque animæ claranda meis jam verfibus esse:
Et metus ille foras præceps Acheruntis agendus
Funditusy humanam qui vitam turbat ab imo,
Omnia fuffundus mortis nigrore.



1. HEN black-brow'd Night her duiky mantle spread,

And wrapt in solemn gloom the fable sky; When soothing Sleep her opiate dews had Thed,

And feal'd in filken slumbers ev'ry eye: My wakeful thoughts admit no balmy rest,

Nor the sweet bliss of soft oblivion share;
But watchful woe distracts my aching breast,

My heart the subject of corroding care :
From haunts of men with wand'ring fteps and flow
I solitary steal, and footh my penfive woe.

Yet no fell paffion's rough discordant rage

Untun'd the music of my tranquil mind;
Ambition's tinsell'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 figlıs of envy from my bosom break, But soft compaffion melts my soul to woe,

And social tears fast trickle down my cheek; Ah me! when nature gives one general groan, Each heart muft beat with woe, each voice responfive moan.

III. Where'er I cast


moift'ned eyes around, Or stretch my prospect o'er the distant land, There foul Corruption's tainted steps are found,

And Death grim-visag'd waves his iron hand. Tho' now soft Pleasure gild the smiling scene,

And sportive Foy call forth her feftive train, Sinking in night each vital form is seen,

Like air-blown bubbles on the wat’ry plain ;
- Fell Death, like brooding Harpy, the repast
Will snatch with talons foul, or four its grateful tafte.

Ye smiling glories of the youthful year,

That ope your fragrant boloms to the day,
That clad in all the pride of spring appear,

And steep'd in dew your filken leaves display: In Nature's richest robes tho thus bedight,

Tho' her foft pencil trace your various dye, Tho' lures


rofeate hue the charmed fight, Tho' odours sweet your neet'rous breath supply, 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.

V. Ye

Soon on your

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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 shall feel the force of age,
And your bare trunks the friendly shade deny;
No more by cheerful vegetation green,
Your fapless bolls shall fink, and quit th' evanid scene.

Ye feather'd warblers of the vernal year

That careless fing, nor fear the frowns of fate,
Tune your fad notes to death and winter drear!

Ill suit these mirthful strains your transient state.
No more with cheerful fong nor sprightly air

Salute the blushes of the rising 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.

Come, fighing Elegy, with sweetest airs

Of melting mufic teach my grief to flow,
I too muft 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 sad loathsome heaps all human glory lies.

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 dismay,

With ghastly air a thousand phantoms rise,
Sad Horror hangs o'er all the deep'ning gloom,
Grief prompts the labour'd figh, Death opes the marble tomb.

Yet life's strong love intoxicates the foul,

And thirst of bliss 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 grasp the flitring 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 !

X. Thus

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