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OH could my Mind, unfolded in my page,

Enlighten climes and mould a future age!

There as it glow'd, with nobleft frenzy fraught, Difpenfe the treasures of exalted thought;

To Virtue wake the pulfes of the heart,

And bid the tear of Emulation ftart!

Oh could it ftill, thro' each fucceeding year,

My life, my manners, and my name endear;
And, when the poet fleeps in filent duft,

Still hold communion with the wise and just !—
Yet fhould this Verse, my leisure's best resource,
When thro' the world it steals its fecret course,

Revive but once a generous with fuppreft, Chafe but a figh, or charm a care to reft; none good deed a fleeting hour employ,

Or flush one faded cheek with honeft joy;

Bleft were my lines, tho' limited their sphere,

Tho' fhort their date, as his who trac'd them here.

S. R.

THE

PLEASURES

O F

MEMORY,

IN TWO PARTS.

Hoc eft

Vivere bis, vitâ poffe priore frui.

MART.