ON

LATE ACQUIRED WEALTH.

POOR in my youth, and in life's later scones
Rich to no end, I curse my natal hour:

Who naught enjoy'd, while young, deny'd the means
And naught, when old, enjoy'd, deny'd the pow'r.

ON

A TRUE FRIEND.

HAST thou a friend? Thou hast indeed
A rich and large supply,
Treasure to serve your ev'ry need,
Well manag'd, till you die

ON

A BATH, BY PLATO.

DID Cytherea to the skies

From this pellucid lymph arise?

Or was it Cytherea's touch,

When bathing here, that made it such.

ON

A FOWLER, BY ISIODORUS.

WITH Seeds and birdlime, from the desert air, Eumelus gather'd free, though scanty, fare. No lordly patron's hand he deign'd to kiss. Nor lux'ry knew, save liberty, nor bliss. Thrice thirty years he liv'd, and to his heirs His seeds bequeath'd, his birdlime, and his snares

ON NIOBE.

CHARON! receive a family on board,
Itself sufficient for thy crazy yawl;

Apollo and Diana, for a word

By me too proudly spoken, slew us all.

ON A GOOD MAN.

TRAV'LLER, regret not me; for thou shalt find
Just cause of sorrow none in my decease,
Who, dying, children's children left behind,

And with one wife liv'd many years in peace: Three virtuous youths espous'd my daughters three And oft their infants in my bosom lay,

Nor saw I one, of all deriv'd from me,

Touch'd with disease, or torn by death away. Their duteous hands my fun'ral rites bestow'd And me, by blameless manners fitted well

To seek it, sent to the serene abode,

Where shades of pious men for ever dwell.

ON A MISER.

THEY call thee rich-I deem thee poor,
Since, if thou dar'st not use thy store,
But sav'st it only for thine heirs,
The treasure is not thine, but theirs.

ANOTHER.

A MISER, traversing his house,
Espied, unusual there, a mouse,
And thus his uninvited guest,
Briskly inquisitive address'd:
"Tell me, my dear, to what cause is it
I owe this unexpected visit?"
The mouse her host obliquely oy'd,
And smiling, pleasantly replied,

"Fear not, good fellow, for your hoard!
I come to lodge, and not to board."

ANOTHER.

ART thou some individual of a kind

Long-liv'd by nature as the rook or hind?

Heap treasure then, for if thy need be such,

Thou hast excuse, and scarce canst heap too much.

But man thou seem'st, clear therefore from thy breast This lust of treasure-folly at the best!

For why shouldst thou go wasted to the tomb,

To fatten with thy spoils thou know'st not whom'

ON

FEMALE INCONSTANCY.

RICH, thou hadst many lovers-poor hast none,
So surely want extinguishes the flame;
And she who call'd thee once her pretty one,
And her Adonis, now inquires thy name.

Where wast thou born, Sosicrates, and where
In what strange country can thy parents live,
Who seem'st, by thy complaints, not yet aware
That want's a crime no woman can forgive?

ON

THE GRASSHOPPER.

HAPPY Songster, perch'd above,
On the summit of the grove,
Whom a dew drop cheers to sing,
With the freedom of a king.
From thy perch survey the fields
Where prolifick nature yields
Nought, that, willingly as she,
Man surrenders not to thee.
For hostility or hate,

None thy pleasures can create

Thee it satisfies to sing

Sweetly the return of spring,
Herald of the genial hours,

Harming neither herbs nor flow'rs.

'Therefore man thy voice attends

Gladly, thou and he are friends;

Nor thy never ceasing strains
Phoebus or the muse disdains
As too simple or too long,
For themselves inspire the song.
Earth-born, bloodless, undecaying,
Ever singing, sporting, playing,
What has nature else to show
Godlike in his kind as thou?

ON HERMOCRATIA.

HERMOCRATIA nam'd--save only one-Twice fifteen births I bore, and buried none : For neither Phoebus pierc'd my thriving joys, Nor Dian--she my girls, or he my boys, But Dian rather, when my daughters lay In parturition, chas'd their pangs away, And all my sons, by Phœbus' bounty shar'd A vig'rous youth, by sickness unimpair'd. O Niobe! far less prolifick! see

Thy boast against Latona sham'd by me '

FROM MENANDER.

FOND youth! who dream'st, that hoarded gold

Is needful, not alone to pay

For all thy various items sold,

To serve the wants of every day;

Bread, vinegar and oil, and meat,
For sav'ry viands season'd high;
But somewhat more important yet-
I tell thee what it cannot buy.