DROPS PROM FLORA’S CUP. 
25 
In vain to nobler minds thy love is spread, 
Thy painted front, thy cup of glowing red; 
Beneath thy bloom, such noxious vapors lie, 
That when obtained, and smelt, we loathe and fly. 
Thus pleasure spreads for all her silken joys, 
And oft, too late, the painted prospect cloys. 
CONSOLATIONS OP SLEEP. 
TOUNG. 
Man’s rich restorative; his balmy bath, 
That supples, lubricates, and keeps in play, 
The various movements of tins nice machine, 
Which asks such frequent periods of repair. 
When tired with vain rotations of the day, 
Sleep winds us up for the succeeding dawn; 
Fresh w T e spin on, till sickness clog our wheels, 
Or death quite breaks the spring, and motion ends. 
