A REFLECTION on the foregoing ODE. AND is this all? Can reafon do no more Than bid me fhun the deep and dread the fhore? Sweet moralift! afloat on life's rough fea, The Chriftian has an art unknown to thee; He holds no parley with unmanly fears, Where duty bids he confidently fteers, Faces a thousand dangers at her call, And trusting in his God, furmounts them all. Tranflations from VINCENT BOURNE. I. THE GLOW-W OR M. I. BENEATH the hedge, or near the ftream, A worm is known to ftray; That fhews by night a lucid beam, Which disappears by day. II. Difputes have been and ftill prevail And others to his head. III. But this is fure-the hand of might That kindles up the fkies,. Gives him a modicum of light, Proportion'd to his fize. IV.. Perhaps indulgent nature meant Nor crufh a worm, whofe ufeful light To fhew a tumbling ftone by night, VI. Whate'er fhe meant, this truth divine Is legible and plain, 'Tis power almighty bids him fhine, Nor bids him fhine in vain. VII. Ye VII. Ye proud and wealthy, let this theme II. THE JACK DAW. I. THERE is a bird who by his coat, A great frequenter of the church, II. Above the steeple fhines a plate, From what point blows the weather,, Look up your brains begin to fwim, 3 Fond of the fpeculative height, The bustle and the raree-show Secure and at his eafe.. IV. You think no doubt he fits and mufes Or troubles it at all. V. He fees that this great round-about In cuftoms and its business Are no concern at all of his,. And fays, what fays he? Caw. VI. Thrice 4 VI. Thrice happy bird! I too have seen And fick of having feen 'em,- III. THE CRICKET. I LITTLE inmate, full of mirth, Chirping on my kitchen hearth; Wherefoe'er be thine abode, Always harbinger of good, Pay me for thy warm retreat, Such a strain as I can give. II. Thus thy praise fhall be expreft, » Inoffenfive, welcome gueft. |