■ 



1M 



PROEM. 



THE CARD 



OF 



INVITATION. 



Odi profanum Fidgus, et arceo. 



Horace. 



(J, come not here, ye proud, whose breasts infold 



Th' insatiate wish of glory, or of gold ; 



O come not ye, whose wrinkled foreheads wear 



Th' eternal frown of envy, or of care ; 



For YOU no Dryad decks her fragrant bowers, 



For YOU her sparkling urn no Naiad pours; 



Unmark'd by YOU light Graces skim the green, 



And hov'ring Cupids aim their shafts unseen.— 



But THOU, whose Mind the well-attemper'd ray 

 Of taste, and virtue, lights with purer day, 

 Whose finer Sense each soft vibration owns, 

 With sweet responsive sympathy of tones ; 

 For THEE sweet Cereus and Renealmias glow, 

 And other plants their curious structure shew; 

 For THEE my Vallies nurse the varied Wreath; 

 My Rivers murmur, and my Zephyrs breathe; 

 My painted Birds their vivid plumes unfold, 



And Insects wave their little wings of gold 



So the fair Flower expands her lucid form 

 To meet the Sun, and shuts it to the Storm. 



Seward. 



