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THE

PINE-APPLE AND THE BEE.

THE pine-apples, in triple row,
Were basking hot, and all in blow;
A bee of most discerning taste
Perceived the fragrance as he passed.
On eager wing the spoiler came,

And searched for crannies in the frame,
Urged his attempt on every side,

To every pane his trunk applied;
But still in vain, the frame was tight,

And only pervious to the light:

Thus having wasted half the day,

He trimmed his flight another way.

Methinks, I said, in thee I find

The sin and madness of mankind.

To joys forbidden man aspires,

Consumes his soul with vain desires;

Folly the spring of his pursuit,

And disappointment all the fruit,

While Cynthio ogles, as she passes,

The nymph between two chariot glasses,
She is the pine-apple, and he

The silly unsuccessful bee.

The maid, who views with pensive air
The show-glass fraught with glittering ware,

Sees watches, bracelets, rings, and lockets,
But sighs at thought of empty pockets;
Like thine, her appetite is keen,

But ah, the cruel glass between!

Our dear delights are often such, Exposed to view, but not to touch; The sight our foolish heart inflames, We long for pine-apples in frames;

With hopeless wish one looks and lingers; One breaks the glass, and cuts his fingers; But they whom truth and wisdom lead, Can gather honey from a weed.

HORACE. Book the 2d.

ODE the 10th.

I.

RECEIVE, dear friend, the truths I teach,

So shalt thou live beyond the reach

Of adverse Fortune's power;

Not always tempt the distant deep,
Nor always timorously creep

Along the treacherous shore.

II.

He that holds fast the golden mean,

And lives contentedly between

The little and the great,

Feels not the wants, that pinch the poor,

Nor plagues, that haunt the rich man's door,

Imbittering all his state.

III.

The tallest pines feel most the power

Of wintry blasts; the loftiest tower

Comes heaviest to the ground;

The bolts, that spare the mountain's side,

His cloud-capt eminence divide,

And spread the ruin round.

IV.

The well informed philosopher
Rejoices with an wholesome fear,

And hopes, in spite of pain;

If winter bellow from the north,

Soon the sweet spring comes dancing forth,

And nature laughs again.

V.

What if thine heaven be overcast,

The dark appearance will not last;

Expect a brighter sky.

The God, that strings the silver bow,

Awakes sometimes the muses too,

And lays his arrows by.

VI.

If hindrances obstruct thy way,

Thy magnanimity display,

And let thy strength be seen;

But oh! if Fortune fill thy sail
With more than a propitious gale,

Take half thy canvass in.

A REFLECTION

ON THE FOREGOING ODE.

AND is this all? Can reason do no more

Than bid me shun the deep, and dread the shore? Sweet moralist! afloat on life's rough sea,

The Christian has an art unknown to thee.

He holds no parley with unmanly fears;
Where duty bids he confidently steers,

Faces a thousand dangers at her call,

And, trusting in his God, surmounts them all.

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