Unless the World were all prepar'd t' embrace TO THE REVEREND MR. NEWTON. AN INVITATION INTO THE COUNTRY. I. THE swallows in their torpid state II. The keenest frost that binds the stream, The wildest wind that blows, Are neither felt nor fear'd by them, Secure of their repose. III. But man, all feeling and awake, The gloomy scene surveys; With present ills his heart must ake, And pant for brighter days. IV. Old Winter, halting o'er the mead, Bids me and Mary mourn; But lovely Spring peeps o'er his head, V. Then April, with her sister May, Shall chase him from the bow'rs, And weave fresh garlands ev'ry day, To crown the smiling hours. VI. And, if a tear, that speaks regret A glimpse of joy, that we have met, CATHARINA. ADDRESSED TO MISS STAPLETON, (NOW MRS. COURTNEY.) SHE came-she is gone—we have met— And meet perhaps never again; The sun of that moment is set, And seems to have risen in vain. Catharina has fled like a dream(So vanishes pleasure, alas!) But has left a regret and esteem, That will not so suddenly pass. The last ev'ning ramble we made, By the nightingale warbleing nigh. We paus'd under many a tree, And much she was charm'd with a tone Less sweet to Maria and me, Who so lately had witness'd her own. My numbers that day she had sung, Could infuse into numbers of mine. The work of my fancy the more, And ev❜n to myself never seem'd Though the pleasures of London exceed Than aught that the city can show. So it is, when the mind is endu'd The achievements of art may amuse, A lasting, a sacred delight. |