l44 THE BEE, OR. Jan. 26. 



O 



Ode to Memory^ 1748* 



memory! celeftial maid; 



Who glean'rt the fiow'rets cropt by Time » 

 And, fufF'ring not a leaf to fade, 



Preferv'ft the hlolfoms of our prime ; 

 Bring, bring thofe moments to my mixid. 

 When life was new and Lesbia kind; 



And bring that garland to my fight, 



With which my favoured crook flij bound ; 



And bring that wreath of roles bright. 

 Which then my feftlve temples crown'd ; 



And to my raptur'd ear convey 



The gentle things flie delga'd to fiy : 



And fketch with care the Mufe's bow'r, 



Where Is is rolls his filver tide ; 

 Nor yet omit one reed or tiow'r 



That Ihines on Cherwell's verdant fide; 

 If fo thou maylt thole hours prolong, 

 When polJlh'd Lycon join'd my fong. 



The fong it 'vails not to recite — 



But fure, to foothe our youthful dreams, 



Thofe banks and ftreams appear'd more bright 

 Than other banks, than other ftreams : 



Or, by thy foftening pencil fhewn, 



Affume they beauties not their own ? 



And paint that fweetly vacant fcene, 

 When, all beneath the poplar 'bough, 



My fpirits light, my foul ferene, 



I breathM in verfe one cordial vow ', 



That nothing fliould my foul infpire. 



Bat friendfhip warm and love entire 



