POETICAL CALENDAR. ODE TO JANUARY. Inflexam diffundit Aquarius urnam. Unfold Nfold the gates of ever-flowing time- While round him rough winds thunder loud, Of winter's hoary clime The adamantine floor: He pours the Tyber and the Nile, To recompence the last year's spoil. 'Tis he! the two-fac'd Janus comes in view; He spurns the Goat afide, But fmiles upon the new Emerging year with pride: And now unlocks, with agat key, Mars and Bellona now fufpend the war! Beneath th' Antartic ftar, Seas burft their frozen mound, Far fouthern feas, releas'd and free, Thus let my foul, beleaguer'd long with care, And trace the veftige of her feet: May each impaffion'd thought Deem the low world as nought, WINTER. N° WINTER. AN O D E. more the morn, with tepid rays, Unfolds the flow'rs of various hue; No vivid colours paint the plain, No more with devious steps I rove Thro' verdant paths, now fought in vain! Congeal'd, impetuous show'rs defcend ; With light and heat my little sphere; Let Let mufic found, the voice of joy, Or mirth repeat the jocund tale: Nor love nor wine the spring restore. WINTER. WINTER. A PASTORAL BALLAD. Felices ter, & amplius Quos irrupta tenet copula. Hox. WH Hen the trees are all bare, not a leaf to be seen, And the meadows their beauty have lost ; When nature's difrob'd of her mantle of green, And the ftreams are faft bound with the froft: While the peasant, inactive, ftands fhivering with As bleak the winds northerly blow; [cold, And the innocent flocks run for ease to the fold, With their fleeces befprinkled with snow : In the yard when the cattle are fodder'd with straw, And they fend forth their breath like a steam ; And the neat looking dairy-maid fees fhe muft thaw Flakes of ice that fhe finds in the cream: When the sweet country maiden, as fresh as a rose, As fhe carelefly trips, often slides; And the ruftics laugh loud, if by falling the shows All the charms that her modefty hides: When the lads and the laffes for company join'd, In a crowd round the embers are met; Talk of fairies and witches that ride on the wind, And of ghofts, till they're all in a fweat: |