To Doctor Empirick.

HEN men a dangerous disease did scape Of old, they gave a cock to Aesculape: Let me give two; that doubly am got free, From my disease's danger, and from thee.

The Gude-wife.

B. JONSON.

ND are ye sure the news is true?
And are ye sure he's weel?
Is this a time to talk o' wark?

Ye jads, lay by your wheel.

Is this a time to talk o' wark

When Colin's at the door?
Gi'e me my cloak, I'll to the quay,
And see him come ashore.

For there's nae luck about the house,
There's nae luck ava,.

There's little pleasure in the house,
When our gudeman's awa.

Sae true's his word, sae smooth his speech,

His breath like caller air,

His very fit has music in't
As he comes up the stair.
And will I see his face again?

And will I hear him speak?
I'm downright dizzie with the thought,
In troth I'm like to greet.

A Character.

MICKLE.

S through the hedgerow shade the violet steals, And the sweet air its modest leaf reveals, Her softer charms, but by their influence known, Surprise all hearts, and mould them to her own.

ROGERS.

Πῦρ καὶ θάλασσα.

IT qvis maligno convaluerat ex morbo,
Olim piabat Aesculapium gallo.

Faciam duobus ipse: facere bis verum est
Bis liberatum, medice, teqve morboqve.

R. S.

Unico gaudens mulier marito.

Ἦ γὰρ ἴστε σῶν νιν ὄντα καὶ τόδ ̓ ἀγγελθὲν σαφῶς, δμωίδες; τί δ ̓ οὐκ ἀφείθη κερκίς; οὐχ ἱστῶν ἀκμή· πῶς ὅδ ̓ ἦν ὁ καιρὸς ἔργων, εἴπερ ἐν πύλαις ἀνής; δεῦρό μοι τὸ φᾶρος οἴσετ', εἶμι δ ̓ ἐς νεώριον, ἔς τε γῆν ἐκβάντα πρώτη δεξιώσομαι πόσιν. οὐ γὰρ εὐτυχεῖ τὰ δώματ ̓ ἀνδρὸς ἑκδημοῦντος, οὔκ ὄμμα γὰρ δόμων νομίζω δεσπότου παρουσίαν. ἡδὺ μὲν ῥέουσαν αὐδὴν ἀσφαλὲς δ ̓ ἔχει στόμα καὶ τὸ πνεῦμ ̓ αὐτῶν ἐλαφρῶν ὥσπερ, εὐστομοῦσι δὲ καὶ πόδες στείχοντος αὐτοῦ δωμάτων προσαμβάσεις. ἦ γὰρ ἔσθ ̓ ὅπως πρόσωπον αὖθις ὄψομαι φίλον, ἠδ ̓ ἀκούσομαι λέγοντος; οὐ γὰρ ἀλλ ̓ ὀλιγγιῶ τοιάδ ̓ ἐννοοῦσα, καὶ δὴ δάκρυ ̓ οὐ σχήσειν δοκῶ.

Κ.

Nil conscire sibi.

IT violae densa sese abscondentis in umbra
Aura tamen grato prodit odore comas,
Sic ea, dum veneres celat, tamen omnia corda
Surripiens molli vi necopina regit.

H. C. R.

The Vegetable Creation.

E scarce had said, when the bare earth, till then
Desert and bare, unsightly, unadorned,

Brought forth the tender grass, whose verdure clad Her universal face with pleasant green;

Then herbs of every leaf, that sudden flowered
Opening their various colours, and made gay

Her bosom, smelling sweet: and, these scarce blown,
Forth flourished thick the clustering vine, forth crept
The swelling gourd, up stood the corny reed
Embattled in her field, and the humble shrub,
And bush with frizzled hair implicit : last

Rose, as in dance, the stately trees, and spread

Their branches hung with copious fruit, or gemmed

Their blossoms: with high woods the fields were crowned,

With tufts the valleys, and each fountain-side,

With borders long the rivers: that earth now

Seemed like to heaven, a seat where gods might dwell,

Or wander with delight, and love to haunt

Her sacred shades: though God had yet not rained
Upon the earth, and man to till the ground
None was; but from the earth a dewy mist
Went up, and watered all the ground, and each
Plant of the field.

MILTON.

Song of the Dying Maiden.

AY a garland on my hearse,
Of the dismal yew;

Maidens, willow branches bear;
Say I died true.

My love was false, but I was firm

From my hour of birth.
Upon my buried body lie

Lightly, gentle earth.

FLETCHER.

Floret Ager.

IX ea fatus erat, cum nuda incomptaqve tellus,
Nuda prius lateqve informis vastaqve visu,

Gramina summisit: qvae mollia matris apertum Vestivere latus verno viridiqve lepore.

Tum subit herbarum qvidqvid frondescit; at illae
In florem patuere et versicolore coorta
Laetificant specie gremium telluris odorum.
Deinde profusa freqvens uvis atqve ubere vitis;
Prorepsit cum ventre cucurbita; iuncus agrestes
Direxit calamorum acies et inhorruit hastis;
Mox dumus brevis, et sqvalens hirsuta tenacis
Silva rubi; genus extremum et procerior ordo,
Plurima processit similis saltantibus arbos,
Ramosqve exseruit felicia poma ferentes

Aut gemmis alacres. Agrum silva alta coronat;
Caespitibusque viret vallis, viret uvida margo
Fontis, et inclusit labentia flumina ripae
Agger: eo tellus omnis perfusa lepore est
In caeli speciem, divisqve accommoda sedes,
Qva vellent spatiari et sacras ire sub umbras:
Quamvis arva Deus nondum saturaverat imbri,
Nec putres homo qvi glebas domitaret aratro
Ullus erat, sed humo subiens tum roscidus aer
Omne solum terrae fruticesqve rigabat agrestes.

Moritura super crudeli funere.

JAXUM sternite lugubrem,

T. S. E.

Huc vos in tumulo sternite, virgines,
Et glaucum salicis decus,

Intactaqve mori dicite me fide.

Tu fallax fueris, puer,

Fido Leuconoe pectore vixero:

Tellus, accipe leniter

Et pondus cineri fac leve sis meo.

H. C. A. T.

The Destruction of Sennacherib.

HE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold,
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on
the sea,

Where the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen;
Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed on the face of the foe as he passed,
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still.

And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,
But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride;
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.

And there lay the rider distorted and pale,

With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail;
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpets unblown.

And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal,
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord.

The Poet King.

BYRON.

FLACCUS in thy Caesar proudly own;
Thy poet-king, fair city, richly crown:
In ivy-wreaths entwine thy treasured gold,
And into bays thy choicest emeralds mould.

S. A.