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thought and deep penetration of the Arabs. In application, it recommends that clofe attention which is fo requifite in matters of importance. Without this, genius and judgment are at beft but defective, and this talent hath often led perfons, in other refpects not greatly distinguished, to make discoveries of confequence in philofophy, agriculture, and other fciences. No where, I prefume, is this faculty more neceffary, than in chymical researches.-In any bufinefs, the foolish and the heedlefs are ready to fay, "I did not think;" but the motto of the diligent and attentive will ever be " quid utile ;-Curo et rogo, et omnis in boc fum.”

Wishing you all fuccefs in your paper, and hoping the Bee will foon answer the expectation raised by your excellent profpectus, I am,

March 31, 1791.

Yours, &c.


A detached Thought.

LET us fuppofe a nation, or, if you please, a species of men fo fuperior to us in respect of genius, that the laft among them fhould furpafs, in that respect, the first among us, it is evident, that our best performances would appear to them very indifferent; but I believe alfo, that theirs, and, above all, their finest productions, would afford us very little pleasure. Our critics would, indeed, acknowledge, that their performances discovered genius, but very little tafte. These folks, they would fay, write nothing but enigmas. They know not how to develope their thoughts, nor to make them connect easily with one another. One does not understand what they would fay; and perhaps they do not well understand it themselves.

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Ode to the Lark, by the Reverend Mr. I. Tyson.

SWEET attendant on the spring,

That enraptur'd lov'ft to fing,
That afpiring, lov'ft to fly,
Ever mounting to the sky.
Had I but thy tuneful throat,
Could I learn thy love-fick note,
Could I learn to fing like thee,

"(Can the MUSES then inspire, "Comes expreffion from the LYRE, "That may full defcription prove, "Of my THIA's heat and love? "Ah! too weak 's the welcome aid, "To fing the beauties of the maid!

"Love's the rudder of my lays, "Love alone fhall fing her praise, "Love that captivates the brave, "And turns the tyrant to a flave!

"Let the critic knit his brow, "Let him call my verfe but low, "Let him cenfure, what care I; "All his threat'nings I defy.

"From the maid in beauty's bloom, " "Tis from her I wait my doom, " "Tis from her alone I love; "She can praise or disapprove.)"

Learn to murmur like the dove, Bear the love-tale to my love; Hear me vow, and hear me figh; Tell her," fick of love I die."

Go, the lovely virgin greet, Waft my off'ring to her feet, WARBLER, thou love's tweets haft prov'd, Ever loving, and belov'd!

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(Search the writings of the SAGE, "Search the fair historic page; "All the wond'rous tales unfold, "Of the love-fick fwains of old, "Painted in the Poet's line, "Still the love won't equal mine!

"TO FANCY then the pencil give, "Let her bid the canvas live, "Let the youthful image rife, "Lovely to the ravish'd eyes;

"The love-fick fwain then let her paint, * "Still description is too faint:

"In vain fhe'll paint, in vain defign; > "Still the love won't equal mine.)"

Fancy feels the task too hard; Weak's the fancy of the Bard,

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THE following defultory ode is original; if it merits a place in the Bee, the inertion of it there will much oblige

Your humble fervant


The Temple of Plutus, an Ode.

ONCE on a day from the fuperb abode
Of Plutus famous long ago,

The pealing trumpet of the footy god
Proclaim'd of mighty treasures to bestow:
And hafte, the clarion oft enjoined,

For, but while day endur'd, he would be kind.

The founds first reach'd two humble fwains
Beneath a beachen fhade retir'd,

Their hearts exulted to the echoing ftrains,
And golden hopes their bofoms fir'd.
Up from their graffy feats they sprung,
Afide their crooks and cloaks they flung;
And though the heav'n afpiring fane,
Scarce cheer'd their lab'ring fight,
The tirefome road could not restrain
Their ardour for the flight.

One keener was than his compear
Of Plutus' glitt'ring ftores to be poffeff'd ;
His palpitating breast

With fierce impatience burn'd;

And to curtail

The tedious way, its obvious tract he fpurn'd,
And urg'd through many a horrid brake,
Thick fence and dang❜rous lake,

His devious flight, fleet as the bounding deer,
When ftrep'rous hounds and horn, its trembling ears affail.
The tiffu'd canopy, the purple stole;

A thoufand glories buoy'd up his foul,

Which, while they glitter'd in his breast, Leffen'd the real pains that his torn limbs diftreff'd. But foon more horrible grew all around,

More horrid brambles veil the treach'rous ground;
Tremenduous rocks, and craggy steeps appear'd,
Wide gaping pits, and fullen caverns frown'd;
Impervious woods their fable tops uprear'd,
Nought could the difmal fcene fupply,
To gladden now his hopeless eye,
His golden profpects fled;

And to enhance his woes,

A furious storm arose,

And night's black fhades collected round his head.

Beneath no friendly shade

Down the poor fhepherd his tir'd body laid;
All night he wept, he groan'd, he figh'd,

Whilst the loud tempest seem'd his sorrows to deride.
The orient morn at length appear'd,

And homeward the fad fhepherd fteer'd

The other fwain, whom no rash thoughts impell'd,
With untir'd perfeverance held

The long but easy road.

No finking marth impeded his plain way,
No rugged fteeps or fences cauf'd delay;

Nor brake nor brier his body pain'd

Soon the bright temple he attain'd,

And fhar'd the liberal bounties of the god.

The fureft way to Plutus' lov'd abode

Is honefty, alas! now feldom trod ;

Those who with patience that plain path retain,

Not often find the journey made in vain ;

While those who deviate from its facred course,
Oft find the temple difficult to gain,

Muft dreadful dangers dare,

Feel all the brambly torments of remorse,

Tempt pits of foul difgrace, and caverns of defpair.

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