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IN PRAISE OF A COUNTRY LIFE.
“ Beatus ille qui procul negotiis.”
Happy he, who free from care
Anxious thoughts, and worldly schemes
Honest, he abjures the Law;
If, to cheat the ling'ring time,
Formal pedants, bred at schools,
Nought restrains his Muse of whim,
If the bounteous Gods afford
Would you once his mind bewitch-
If you come to dine with me,
Dainties must not be your care; Harmless pleasure, social glee,
And the Poet's frugal fare ;
These I give-and should my
He must bring the bright Champaigne !
Cool beneath a spreading vine,
Jovial Horace, thirsty chap, he, Quaff'd his rich Falernian wine,
With Mæcenus snug and happy
We, in lodgings near the skies,
Of Apollo humbler scions, Banquet amidst London Cries,
And the bray of Kent-Street Lions.
DEAR Chloris, at an age like thine
And ape such youthful airs, ,
Repent, and say thy pray'rs.
Give o'er thy light fantastic tricks,
Credulity disarms !
The winter of thy charms.
No beauty thou hast left to boast, Though twenty years a reigning toast,
By coxcombs pledg'd aloud ; Retreat in time, give others room,
No nostrum can restore thy bloom ; Haste, Chloris ! nor defraud the tomb,
Death courts thee for a shroud.
What sprightly Phæbe, frank and free,
Thou folly's doting tool ;
Should make thee play the fool.
Ah! roll no more the leering eye
Thy ogling days are past :
Must be dethron'd at last.