Now hoift the fail, and let the streamers float Upon the wanton breezes. Strew the deck With lavender, and sprinkle liquid sweets, That no rude favour maritime invade The nofe of nice nobility! Breathe soft Ye clarionets; and fofter ftill ye flutes; That winds and waters, lulled by magic founds, May bear us smoothly to the Gallic fore!

There is a pleasure in poetic pains, Which only poets know. The shifts and turns, The expedients and inventions multiform,