The DROPSICAL MAN.

By Mr. W. TAYLOR.

JOLLY, brave toper, who cou'd not forbear

A Tho' his life was in danger, old port and stale beer,

Gave the doctors the hearing-but still wou'd drink on,
Till the dropfy had fwell'd him as big as a ton.
The more he took phyfic the worse still he grew,
And tapping was now the last thing he cou'd do.
Affairs at this crifis, and doctors come down,
He began to confider-fo fent for his fon.

Tom, fee by what courses I've shorten'd my life,
I'm leaving the world ere I'm forty and five;
More than probable 'tis, that in twenty-four hours,
This manor, this house, and eftate will be yours;
My early exceffes may teach you this truth,

That 'tis working for death to drink hard in one's youth.
Says Tom, (who's a lad of a generous spirit,
And not like young rakes who 're in hafte to inherit,)
Sir, don't be difhearten'd; altho' it be true,

thro'.

Th' operation is painful, and hazardous too,
'Tis no more than what many a man has gone
And then, as for years, you may yet be call'd young,
Your life after this may be happy and long.
Don't flatter me, Tom, was the father's reply,
With a jeft in his mouth and a tear in his eye;
Too well by experience, my veffels, thou know'ft,
No fooner are tap'd, but they give up the ghoft.

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PARADISE

PARADISE REGAIN'D.

By H. T.

I.

EEK not for Paradife with curious eye

SEEK

In Afiatic climes, where Tigris' wave, Mix'd with Euphrates in tumultuous joy, Doth the broad plains of Babylonia lave.

'Tis

II.

gone with all its charms; and like a dream, Like Babylon itself, is fwept away;

Bestow one tear upon the mournful theme,

But let it not thy gentle heart dismay.
III.

For know where-ever love and virtue guide,
They lead us to a state of heav'nly bliss,
Where joys unknown to guilt and shame prefide,
And pleasures unalloy'd each hour increase.
IV.

Behold that grove, whofé waving boughs admit,
Thro' the live colonade, the fruitful hill,

A moving profpect with fat herds replete,
Whose lowing voices all the valley fill.

V. There,

√.

There, thro' the fpiry grafs where glides the brook,
(By yon tall poplar which erects its head
Above the verdure of the neighb'ring oak,)
And gently murmurs o'er th' adjoining mead;
VI.

Philander and Cleora, happy pair,

Taste the cool breezes of the gentle wind; Their breafts from guilt, their looks are free from care, Sure index of a calm contented mind.

VII.

"Tis here in virtuous lore the ftudious fair

Informs her babes, nor fcorns herself t' improve, While in his fmile fhe lives, whose pleafing care Difpenfes knowledge from the lips of love.

VIII.

No wild defires can fpread their poifon here,
No difcontent their peaceful hours attend;
Falfe joys, nor flatt'ring hopes, nor fervile fear,
Their gentle minds with jarring paflions rend.
IX.

Here oft in pleafing folitude they rove,

Recounting o'er the deeds of former days; With inward joy their well-spent time approve, And feel a recompence beyond all praise.

X.

Or in sweet converse thro' the grove, or near

The fountain's brink, or where the arbour's fhade Beats back the heat, fair Virtue's voice they hear, More mufical by fweet digreffions made.

XI.

With calm dependence ev'ry good they taste,
Yet feel their neighbours' wants with kind regret,
Nor cheer themselves alone, (a mean repast!)

But deal forth bleffings round their happy feat.
XII.

"Tis to fuch virtue, that the pow'r fupreme
The choiceft of his bleffings hath defign'd,
And shed them plenteous over ev'ry clime,
The calm delights of an untainted mind.
XIII.

Ere yet the fad effects of foolish pride,
And mean ambition ftill employ'd in ftrife,
And luxury did o'er the world prefide,
Deprav'd the taste, and pall'd the joys of life.
XIV.

For fuch the Spring, in richeft mantle clad,
Pours forth her beauties thro' the gay parterre;
And Autumn's various bofom is o'erspread
With all the blushing fruits that crown the

XV.

year.

Such Summer tempts, in golden beams array'd,
Which o'er the fields in borrow'd luftre glow,

To meditate beneath the cooling fhade

Their happy ftate, and whence their bleffings flow. XVI.

E'en rugged Winter varies but their joy,

Painting the cheek with fresh vermilion-hue;

And thofe rough frosts which softer frames annoy

With vig'rous health their flack'ning nerves renew.

XVII.

From the dark bofom of the dappled Morn
To Phoebus fhining with meridian light,
Or when mild Ev'ning does the sky adorn,

Or the pale moon rides thro' the spangled night.
XVIII.

The varying scenes in ev'ry virtuous foul

Each pleafing change with various pleasures blefs, Raife cheerful hopes, and anxious fears controul, And form a Paradise of inward peace.

HO' ftrength of genius, by experience taught,

TH

Tives three to found the

HOR.

Gives thee to found the depth of human thought,

To trace the various workings of the mind,

And rule the secret springs that rule mankind;
Rare gift! yet, Walpole, wilt thou condescend
To liften, if thy unexperienc'd friend
Can aught of use impart, tho' void of skill,
And raise attention by fincere good will :
VOL. VI.

I

For