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Who at the howling of the midnight wind
Will wake and tremble in her boding prayer? So may her voice be heard, and heaven be kindGo gallant ship, and be thy fortune fair!
LIKE as a ship, that through the ocean wide,
ODE TO PEACE.
OME, peace of mind, delightful guest !
Once more in this sad heart :
We therefore need not part.
ODES AND SONNETS.
Where wilt thou dwell, if not with me,
And pleasure's fatal wiles ?
The banquet of thy smiles ?
The great, the gay, shall they partake
And wilt thou quit the stream
To be a guest with them ?
For thee I panted, thee I prized,
Whate'er I loved before ;
Farewell! we meet no more !
A SONNET.- FROM THE SPANISH.
Those whiter Lilies which the early morn
Seems to have newly woven of sleaved silk, To which, on banks of wealthy Tagus born,
Gold was their cradle, liquid pearl their milk. These blushing Roses, with whose virgin leaves
The wanton wind to sport himself presumes, Whilst from their rifled wardrobe he receives
For his wings purple, for his breath perfumés. Both those and these my Cælia's pretty foot
Trod up--but if she should her face display, And fragrant breast—they'd dry again to the root,
As with the blasting of the mid-day's ray; And this soft wind, which both perfumes and cools, Pass like the unregarded breath of fools.
Sweet is the rose, but growes upon a brere ;
Why then should I accompt of little paine,