Of Oxford pranks, facetious tells, And, but on sundays, hears no bells. But ah! too soon his thoughtless breast By cares domestic is opprest; Each day some scene of woe commences By new and unforeseen expences; And soon the butcher's bill, and brewing, Threaten inevitable ruin; For children more expences yet, And Dickey now for school is fit. "Why did I sell my college life (He cries) "for benefice and wife! "Oh could the days once more but come, "When calm I smoak'd in common room, "And din'd with breast untroubled, under "The picture of our pious founder; "When, for amusement, my tyrannic "Sway could put freshmen in a pannic; "When impositions were supplied "To light my pipe--or sooth my pride! "No cares of family oppress'd me, "Nor wife by day--nor night distress'd me. "Each day receiv'd successive pleasure, "Or spent in reading, or in leisure; "And every night I went to bed "Without a christ'ning in my head." O trifling head, and fickle heart!-- Chagrin'd at whatsoe'er thou art! A dupe to follies yet untry'd, And sick of pleasure's scarce enjoy'd; Each prize obtain'd, thy rapture ceases, And in the search alone it pleases. ODE[14] TO ARTHUR ONSLOW, ESQ. I. This goodly frame what virtue so approves, And testifies the pure etherial spirit As mild Benevolence? She with her sister Mercy still awaits Beside th' eternal throne of Jove, And measures forth with unwithdrawing hand The blessings of the various year, Sunshine or show'r, and chides the madding tempest. II. With her the heaven-bred nymph meek Charity, Shall fashion ONSLOW forth in fairest portrait; And with recording care Weave the fresh wreath that flow'ring virtue claims. But oh, what muse shall join the band? He long has sojourn'd in the sacred haunts, And knows each whisp'ring grot and glade Trod by Apollo, and the light-foot Graces. III. How then shall awkward gratitude And the presumption of untutor'd duty Attune my numbers all too rude? Little he recks the meed of such a song; Yet will I stretch aloof, And when I tell of Courtesy, Of well-attemper'd Zeal, Of awful Prudence soothing fell Contention, Where shall the lineaments agree But in thee, ONSLOW? You, your wonted leave Indulge me, nor misdeem a Soldier's bold emprize; IV.