TO OXFORD. 189 



1 Nor generous impulse can obey 



' Where cautious Age has set his seal.' 



Hence, cheerless pencil ! whose harsh lines 

 And sombre tints my soul disclaims : 



Time mellows friendship, like old wines ; 

 And tempers love's too ardent flames. 



Why dress in clouds the autumn day ? 



Because the spring's bright dawn is fled. 

 Why cast the amaranth away ? 



Because the vernal rose is shed. 



Tho' summer's fervent heat is spent, 

 Sweet is the evening hour of reason, 



The time to gather in content, 



The wholesome fruit of every season. 



MRS. DORSET. 



The next day I dined at the fellows* table of 



M College, and I shall not soon forget the 



scene. Most of the fellows I met were a little 

 advanced in life, and one of them was between 

 eighty and ninety years of age. He had resided 

 at his favourite college upwards of sixty years, and 

 thought there was no place equal to it. If good 

 eating and drinking, and a warm, snug fellows' 

 room, constituted happiness, he certainly had them 

 in perfection. After an excellent dinner, we ad- 

 journed to this room. A sort of kidney-shaped 

 table was placed before the fire, round which the 

 party sat, the two senior fellows ensconcing them- 

 selves in comfortable arm-chairs on each side of 

 the fire-place. A bottle of port wine, such as is 

 seldom met with, and which did great credit to the 



