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Each in his inclinations blest,
Not all that Attalus pofsest,
Nor all the treasures of the east,
Shall turn their timid hearts to cleave,
With Cyprian keel the Ægéan wave.

Icarian billows running high,
3.

A toffing bark and fabłe sky,
The merchant pale in fear,
Prays for a life of rural ease;
But prompted to another trip,
Indocil-poverty to bear,
He then refits his shatter'd ship,

And out again to seas.
4. Some, o'er their mellow massic $ gay,

Take from the loitring solid day
An ample share, in verdant shade

Beneath the fragrant * arbuté laid,
Or at the sacred fountain's crystal head.
5. The trumpet and the clarion's cheer

Delight the sons of Mars,
Detéstable to mother's ear,
: The call to bloody wars.

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9 A strong kind of wine for hard drinkers.
* Arbute. The strawberry tree.

32 Some gay their mellow maffic o'er,

Break from the solid twenty four.
34. Verdant sade.] As our English verfes only differ from each other in metre, as
they consist of dislerent lengths of twelve, ten, eight and fix fyllables, they are used
promiscuously, in Lyric Poetry, (vid. St. Cæcilia's Ode,] Hanc veniam petimusque, &c.
not o'er stepping the bounds of modesty ; when most consonant to the numbers and
movements of

my
Author;

-Nunc vīridī mēmbră Sub ārbúto
Stratus, nunc ad aquæ lene caput Sacræ.

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6. The sportsinan quits his bosom bride,

Beneath inclement skies to bide,
Whether his twisted nets are tore,
By stag, or rushing Marsyan boar,

The faithful pack pursue the track,
He thinks of fpouse no more.
7. And thee, thy Ivies, godlike, raise,
Of learnéd brow reward and praise,

And me sequester’d from the throng,
Light tripping Fauns the nymphs among,
And gelid streams and choral song,
Withhold ; if Clio's lute combine,
And Polyhymny deign to join
Her Lesbian Barbiton to mine;
And wing'd sublime I'll reach the skies,
If rank'd with lyrick bards divine,

Mæcenas bid me rife.

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The following admired TRANSLATION of the same Ode, full

of Wit and Humour, is here given, that the Reader may contrast it, with Simplex Munditiis, the neat plain fimplicity of Horace.

I.

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LLER, whom fair Ierné bore
To

grace Britannia's happier Shore,
Whose Genius guides, whose Counsel guardo
The Labours of Bathonian Bards,
Survey Mankind, and each you'll view

His various Path of Joy pursue.
2. There are, in Phaetons who smoke

ye, Collecting dust enough to choak ye,

B 2

With

With Elbows square, and nodding Heads,
And long-tail'd scrambling Quadrupeds
Whip round the Post-turn sharp-cut neat-
Despise--and frighten all they meet;
Or studious of New Market Races,
Keep half a running Horse* at Scrace's,
Hedging, and odds, and Bets their Theme
By which fome knowing ones, I deem,
With Zones around their Necks have vaulted
Tow'rds Heav'n above their

peers exalted

3

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The Alderman who pants to grace
The golden Chain, the Sword, and Mace;
Th' engrossing Hunks, whose Barns contain
Full many a Year's well-hoarded Grain,
Yet anxious to increase his Store,
Grubs his paternal Fields for more,
Would ne'er the boift'rous waves be toft on,
To meet their dearest friends at Boston,
Though all the Treasures were consign'd them
Her hapless Exiles leave behind them,
In stouteft Bark would ne'er sustain,
The Horrors of th' Atlantic Main.

4. Secure from Wars, and dangerous Seas

Colonel Jaghire enjoys his Ease ;
Buys Land, and Beeves, with Indian Gold,
Which some poor English squire had sold;
Kings, Lords, and Commons he defies,
• The Town is all my own, he cries,

, 66 That cursed Climate I've been hurt in, “ And Nabob-making grows uncertain

This

* The Riding School at BATH.

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«. This snug retreat I'm safe from harm in,• How sweet that Wood ! that lawn how charming !''

5.

But Ah! his Passion foon returns,
With restless flames his Bosom burns ;
His Bark he rigs, resolv'd once more,
The distant Ganges to explore,
Rather than on his native Ground
To starve-on Fourscore Thousand Pound.

6. Oft' will you meet old General Drone:

A Character at Bath well known ;
The Rooms and coffee house he haunts,
Drinks sometimes Tea, and sometimes Nantz
Complaining of the Gripes and Vapours,
He'll ask “what News you've in the Papers ;
Then cry, “such Measures we're pursuing,
" This Nation's on the Brink of Ruin :"-
But urge him to explain her wrongs,
Down fall the Poker and the Tongs;
He hums, and haws, and recommends-
-Prescription for the-Influenza;
In Summer, lounging at Spring-Garden,
In Winter, ev'ry Door bombarding,
With morning visits duly paid
Down from the Crescent to Parade,
His Head he'll in the Pump-Room poke
To catch some stale, unmeaning Joke,
With News and Nonsense for the Day,
To drive his irksome Hours away.

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Pierc'd with the Fife’s, and Trumpet's voice,
Britannia's warlike Youth rejoice ;

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The blended Sounds transport their Ear,
While trembling, anxious Mothers fear
These heroes should defert their Quarters,

To Scotland to entice their Daughters. 8. The northern Blast, and driving Rains

Sir Hardy Thickset well sustains ;
Whether the Hind, or Wily Fox
His fleet Hounds urge o'er Vales and Rocks,
He drives the Chace with Perseverance,
Nor heeds his tender Wife's Endearance,
At Night returning to console her-

With Feats of Bowman and of Jowler. 9. For me the verdant Ivy Guerdon

(Which you, Sir, have my Brows conferr'd on)
While many an artlefs Rhyme I jingle,
Gives me with loftier Bards to mingle:
Me to enjoy the cool Cafcade,
Thy nodding Grove, and checker'd Shade,
And view the smiling Nymphs advance,
To join with thee the festive Dance,
(While every charm of Art and Nature
Conspires to grace thy Féte Champétre)
Thy kind Indulgence has allow'd,
And fets me 'bove th' ignoble Crowd;
Content, if sweet Euterpe deign
To hear my humble Pipe complain;
Or when befide the Winter fire,
With careless Hand I fweep the lyre,
The gay fanftastic Polyhymny
Will take a Corner of my chimney,

Inspiring

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