HORACE. BOOK II. ODE X. RECEIVE, dear friend, the truths I teach, Of adverse Fortune's power: Along the treacherous shore. He that holds fast the golden mean, The little and the great, Feels not the wants that pinch the poor, The tallest pines feel most the power And spread the ruin round. The well-inform'd philosopher What if thine heaven be overcast? And let thy strength be seen; A REFLECTION ON THE FOREGOING ODE. AND is this all? Can Reason do no more This elegant Rose had I shaken it lefs, Might have bloomed with its owner awhile; And the tear, that is wip'd with a little address, May be follow'd perhaps with a smile. DRAWN BY RICHARD WESTALL, RA. ENGRAVED BY EDWARD PORTBURY: PUBLISHED BY JOHN SHARPE, PICCADILLY. OCT 1,1817. THE ROSE. THE rose had been wash'd, just wash'd in a shower, The plentiful moisture encumber'd the flower, The cup was all fill'd, and the leaves were all wet, To weep for the buds it had left with regret, I hastily seized it, unfit as it was For a nosegay, so dripping and drown'd, And such, I exclaim'd, is the pitiless part This elegant rose, had I shaken it less, Might have bloom'd with its owner awhile, And the tear that is wiped with a little address, May be follow'd perhaps by a smile. |