Fondness prevail'd, mamma gave way;

Kitty, at heart's desire,

Obtain'd the chariot for a day,

And set the world on fire.

THE DESPAIRING SHEPHERD.

ALEXIS shunn'd his fellow-swains,
Their rural sports, and jocund strains :

(Heaven guard us all from Cupid's bow!)
He lost his crook, he left his flocks;
And, wandering through the lonely rocks,
He nourish'd endless woe.

The nymphs and shepherds round him came :
His grief some pity, others blame ;

The fatal cause all kindly seek :
He mingled his concern with theirs ;
He gave them back their friendly tears;
He sigh'd, but would not speak.

Clorinda came amongst the rest;
And she too kind concern exprest,

And ask'd the reason of his woe:
She ask'd, but with an air and mien,
That made it easily foreseen,

She fear'd too much to know.

The shepherd rais'd his mournful head;
"And will you pardon me," he said,
"While I the cruel truth reveal?

Which nothing from my breast should tear; Which never should offend your ear,

But that you bid me tell.

"'Tis thus I rove, 'tis thus complain,
Since you appear'd upon the plain;
You are the cause of all my care;
Your eyes ten thousand dangers dart;
Ten thousand torments vex my heart:
I love, and I despair.

"Too much, Alexis, I have heard: 'Tis what I thought; 'tis what I fear'd: And yet I pardon you," she cried : "But you shall promise ne'er again To breathe your vows, or speak your pain:" He bow'd, obey'd, and dy'd.

AN ODE.

THE merchant, to secure his treasure,
Conveys it in a borrow'd name:
Euphelia serves to grace my measure;
But Chloe is my real flame.

My softest verse, my darling lyre,

Upon Euphelia's toilet lay;

When Chloe noted her desire,

That I should sing, that I should play.

My lyre I tune, my voice I raise,
But with iny numbers mix my sighs;
And, whilst I sing Euphelia's praise,
I fix my soul on Chloe's eyes.

Fair Chloe blush'd: Euphelia frown'd;

I

sung,

and gaz'd; I play'd, and trembled: And Venus to the Loves around

Remark'd, how ill we all dissembled.

THE LADY'S LOOKING-GLASS.

IN IMITATION OF A GREEK IDYLLIUM.

CELIA and I, the other day,

Walk'd o'er the sand-hills to the sea:
The setting Sun adorn'd the coast,
His beams entire, his fierceness lost:
And, on the surface of the deep,
The winds lay only not asleep :
The nymph did like the scene appear,
Serenely pleasant, calmly fair:

Soft fell her words, as flew the air.

With secret joy I heard her say,

That she would never miss one day

A walk so fine, a sight so gay.

But, oh the change! the winds grow high; Impending tempests charge the sky; The lightning flies, the thunder roars, And big waves lash the frighten'd shores. Struck with the horrour of the sight,

She turns her head, and wings her flight:

And, trembling, vows she'll ne'er again
Approach the shore, or view the main.

"Once more, at least, look back," said I, "Thyself in that large glass descry : When thou art in good-humour drest; When gentle reason rules thy breast; The Sun upon the calmest sea Appears not half so bright as thee: 'Tis then that with delight I rove Upon the boundless depth of Love: I bless my chain; I hand my oar; Nor think on all I left on shore.

"But when vain doubt and groundless fear Do that dear foolish bosom tear; When the big lip and watery eye Tell me the rising storm is nigh; 'Tis then, thou art yon' angry main, Deform'd by winds, and dash'd by rain; And the poor sailor, that must try Its fury, labours less than I.

"Shipwreck'd, in vain to land I make, While Love and Fate still drive me back, Forc'd to doat on thee thy own way,

I chide thee first, and then obey.

Wretched when from thee, vex'd when nigh,
I with thee, or without thee, die.

JOHN GAY.

JOHN OHN GAY, a well-known poet, was born at or near Barnstaple, in Devonshire, in 1688. After an education at the free-school of Barnstaple, he was sent to London, where he was put apprentice to a silkmercer. A few years of negligent attendance on the duties of such a station procured him a separation by agreement from his master; and he not long afterwards addicted himself to poetical composition, of which the first-fruits were his " Rural Sports," published in 1711, and dedicated to Pope, then first rising to fame. In the following year, Gay, who possessed much sweetness of disposition, but was indolent and improvident, accepted an offer from the Duchess of Monmouth to reside with her as her secretary. He had leisure enough in this employment to produce in the same year his poem of " Trivia, or the Art of Walking the Streets of London," which proved one of the most entertaining of its class. It was much admired; and displayed in a striking manner that talent for the description of external objects which peculiarly characterised the author.