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A FAREWELL TO THE VANITIES OF THE WORLD.

BY WOTTEN.

FAREWELL, ye gilded follies, pleasing troubles ;-
Farewell, ye honoured rags, ye glorious bubbles;-
Fame's but a hollow echo; gold pure clay;
Honour the darling but of one short day.
Beauty, the eye's idol, but a damasked skin;
State but a golden prison to live in,

And torture free-born minds! Embroidered trains,
Merely but pageants for proud swelling veins;
And blood allied to greatness, is alone

Inherited, not purchased nor our own,

Fame, honour, beauty, state, train, blood, and birth,

Are but the fading blossoms of the earth.
I would be great, but that the sun doth still
Level his rays against the rising hill:
I would be high, but see the proudest oak
Most subject to the rending thunder-stroke:
I would be rich, but see men, too unkind,
Dig in the bowels of the richest mine:
I would be wise, but that I often see
The fox suspected, while the ass goes free:
I would be fair, but see the fair and proud,
Like the bright sun, oft setting in a cloud :

I would be poor, but know the humble grass
Still trampled on by each unworthy ass :

Rich hated: wise suspected: scorned if poor: Great feared: fair tempted: high still envied

more:

I have wished all; but now, I wish for neither Great, high, rich, wise nor fair; poor I'll be rather.

Welcome pure thoughts, welcome ye silent groves, These guests, these courts, my soul most dearly loves:

Now the winged people of the sky shall sing
My cheerful anthems to the gladsome spring:
A prayer-book now shall be my looking-glass,
In which I will adore sweet virtue's face.
Here dwell no hateful looks, no palace-cares,
No broken vows dwell here, nor pale-faced fears:
Then here I'll sit, and sigh my hot love's folly,
And learn t' affect a holy melancholy;

And if Contentment be a stranger then,
I'll ne'er look for it but in Heaven again.

I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born,
And range with humble livers in content,
Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief,
And wear a golden sorrow.

Shakespear.

SONNET.

BY DRUMMOND.

THRICE happy he who by some shady grove,
Far from the clamorous world, doth live his own,
Though solitary, who is not alone,

But doth converse with that eternal love:

Oh, how more sweet is birds harmonious moane, Or the hoarse sobbings of the widowed dove, Than those smooth whisperings near a prince's throne,

Which good make doubtfull, dothe evill approve! Oh, how more sweet is zephyre's wholesome breath,

And sighs embalmed, which new-born flowers unfold,

Than that applause vain honour doth bequeath! How sweet are streames to poyson drank in gold! The world is full of horrors, troubles, slights; Woods' harmlesse shades have only true delights.

Much will always wanting be

To him who much desires. Thrice happy he
To whom the wise indulgency of heaven,
With sparing hand, but just enough has given

Cowley.

7

A BACHELOR'S RETREAT.

BY GREEN.

CONTENTMENT, parent of delight,
So much a stranger to our sight,
Say, goddess, in what happy place
Mortals behold thy blooming face;
Thy gracious auspices impart,
And for thy temple choose my heart.
They whom thou deignest to inspire,
Thy science learn to bound desire;
By happy alchemy of mind

They turn to pleasure all they find,
They both disdain in outward mien
The grave and solemn garb of spleen,
And meretricious arts of dress,

To feign a joy, and hide distress;
Unmoved when the rude tempest blows,
Without an opiate they repose;
And, covered by your shield, defy
The whizzing shafts, that round them fly:
Nor meddling with the gods' affairs,
Concern themselves with distant cares;
But place their bliss in mental rest,
And feast upon the good possessed.
Forced by soft violence of prayer,
The blithsome goddess soothes my care;-

I feel the deity inspire,

And thus she models my desire.
Two hundred pounds half yearly paid,
Annuity securely made,

A farm some twenty miles from town,
Small, tight, salubrious, and my own;
Two maids, that never saw the town,
A serving man, not quite a clown;
A boy to help to tread the mow,
And drive, while t'other holds the plough;
A chief, of temper formed to please,
Fit to converse, and keep the keys;
And better to preserve the peace,
Commissioned by the name of niece;
With understandings of a size
To think their master very wise.
May Heaven (it's all I wish for) send
One genial room to treat a friend,
Were decent cupboard, little plate,
Display benevolence, not state.
And may my humble dwelling stand
Upon some chosen spot of land:

A pond before full to the brim,

Where cows may cool, and geese may swim:

Behind, a green like velvet neat,

Soft to the eye, and to the feet;

Where odorous plants in evening fair

Breathe all around embrosial air;

From Eurus, foe to kitchen ground,

Fenced by a slope with bushes crowned,

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