AN ODE.

BY S—L J—N, L. L. D.

STERN Winter now by Spring repress'd,
 Forbears the long-continued strife,
 And Nature on her naked breast
 Delights to catch the gales of Life. 

Now, o'er the rural kingdom roves
 Soft Pleasure, with her laughing train,
 Love warbles in the vocal groves,
 And Vegetation plants the plain. 

Unhappy! whom to beds of pain
 Arthritic Tyranny consigns,
 Whom smiling Nature courts in vain,
 Tho' Rapture sings, and Beauty shines. 

Yet tho' my limbs Disease invades,
 Her wings Imagination tries,
 And bears me to the peaceful shades,
 Where —'s humble turrets rise. 

Here stop, my Soul, thy rapid flight,
 Nor from the pleasing groves depart,
 Where first great Nature charm'd my sight,
 Where Wisdom first inform'd my heart. 

Here let me thro' the vales pursue
 A guide, a father, and a friend;
 Once more great Nature's work renew,
 Once more on Wisdom's voice attend. 

From false caresses, causeless strife,
 Wild hope, vain fear, alike remov'd;
 Here let me learn the use of life,
 When best enjoy'd, when most improv'd. 

Teach me, thou venerable bower,
 Cool Meditation's quiet seat,
 The generous scorn of venal power,
 The silent grandeur of retreat. 

When Pride by guilt to greatness climbs,
 Or raging Factions rush to war;
 Here let me learn to shun the crimes
 I can't prevent, and will not share. 

But, lest I fall by subtler foes,
 Bright Wisdom, teach me Curio's art,
 The swelling passions to compose,
 And quell the rebels of the heart.