Then to the sons of grief his speech addressed, "Through this dull flower is shed such potent dew, "When pain distracts--drink this--and drown in sleep "All ills, that Nature sent to torture you. "From other worlds, by other beings trod, "To these bleak climes this plundered plant I bore; "Receive a gift, all worthy of a god, "Since pain, when hushed to sleep,--is pain no more." [80] Text from the 1809 edition. QUINTILIAN TO LYCIDAS[81] "While other lads their books forsake, Or sigh to meet the hours of play: You, Lycidas, no leisure take, But still through learned volumes stray:-- With years so few, ah why so grave; Why every hour to books a slave? Hence, Lycidas, I pray, retire: Go with your mates, and take your play-- Not him I prize, or much admire, Who, curious, hangs on all I say: The lad that's wise before his time, Will be a coxcomb in his prime. Stay not too close in learning's shop;-- 'Till time a riper mind prepares, The ball, the marble, and the top Are books, that should divide your cares-- The lads that life's gay morn enjoy, I'm pleased to see them act the boy. I hate the pert, I hate the bold, Who, proud of years but half a score, With none but men would converse hold, And things beyond their reach explore: Like the famed Cretan, soaring high, To melt their waxen wings and die." [81] First published, as far as I can find, in the 1795 edition. Text from the 1809 edition. THE BAY ISLET[82] In shallow streams, a league from town, (Its baby Light-House tumbled down) Extends a country, full in view, Beheld by all, but known to few. Surrounded by the briny waste No haven here has Nature placed; But those who wish to pace it o'er Must land upon the open shore. There as I sailed, to view the ground; No blooming goddesses I found-- But yellow hags, ordained to prove The death, and antidote of love. Ten stately trees adorn the isle, The house, a crazy, tottering pile, Where once the doctor plied his trade On feverish tars and rakes decayed. Six hogs about the pastures feed (Sweet mud-larks of the Georgia breed) Who, while the hostess deals out drams, Can oysters catch, and open clams. Upon its surface, smooth and clean, A world, in miniature, is seen; Though scarce a journey for a snail We meet with mountain, hill, and vale. To those that guard this stormy place, Two cities stare them in the face: There, York its spiry summits rears, And here Cummunipaw appears. The tenant, now but ill at ease, Derives no fuel from his trees: And Jersey boats, though begged to land, All leave him on the larboard hand. Some monied man, grown sick of care, To this neglected spot repair: What Nature sketched, let art complete, And own the loveliest Country Seat. [82] First published, as far as I have been able to find, in the 1795 edition. Text from the 1809 edition.