CATHARINA. ADDRESSED TO MISS STAPLETON, (NOW MRS. COURTNEY.) SHE came she is gone-we have met- The sun of that moment is set, And seems to have risen in vain. Catharina has fled like a dream- The last ev'ning ramble we made, Catharina, Maria, and I, Our progress was often delay'd By the nightingale warbling nigh. 10 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 longer I heard, I esteein'd The work of my fancy the more, And e'en to myself never seem'd So tuneful a poet before. Though the pleasures of London exceed For the close woven arches of limes 20 30 Are sweeter to her many times Than aught that the city can show. So it is, when the mind is endued With a well-judging taste from above Then, whether embellish'd or rude, "Tis nature alone that we love. The achievements of art may amuse, May even our wonder excite, But groves, hills, and vallies diffuse A lasting, a sacred delight. Since then in the rural recess Catharina alone can rejoice, May it still be her lot to possess The scene of her sensible choice! To inhabit a mansion remote From the clatter of street-pacing steeds, And by Philomel's annual note To measure the life that she leads. 40 With her book, and her voice, and her lyre, To wing all her moments at home, As oft as it suits her to roam, She will have just the life she prefers, With little to hope or to fear, And ours would be pleasant as hers, 50 THE MORALIZER CORRECTED. A TALE. A HERMIT (or if chance you hold Stoppled his cruise, replac'd his book And, staff in hand, set forth to share The sober cordial of sweet air, Autumnal rains had made it chill, A western bank's still sunny side, And right toward the favour'd place Proceeding with his nimblest In hope to bask a little yet, pace, Just reach'd it when the sun was set. Your hermit, young and jovial, sirs! Learns something from whate'er occurs 10 20 |