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Verfes occafioned by hearing the proverb, "Scorn comes
"commonly with faith."

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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,
LOVE and fweet SIMPLICITY,

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Weak's the Painter's mimic skill,
Words hiftoric, weaker still:
It belongs to thee to tell,
WARBLER, thou haft lov'd fo well!
FN. Yorkshire.

To the Editor of the Bee.

SIR,

Paisley. April 5th, 1791.

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

SCRIBBLE.

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 shade retir'd,

Their hearts exulted to the echoing ftrains,
And golden hopes their bofoms fir'd.
Up from their graffy feats they fprung,
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 reftrain

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 decr,

When ftrep'rous hounds and horn, its trembling ears affail.
The tiffu'd canopy, the purple ftole;

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 fteeps 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 ftorm 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,
Whilft the loud tempest seem'd his forrows to deride.
The orient morn at length appear'd,
And homeward the fad fhepherd steer'

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

The long but easy road.

No finking marfh impeded his plain way,
No rugged steeps 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' lev'd abode
Is honesty, 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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Melai, a Conftantinopolitan Tale.

THE deftruction of the images among the Greeks of the
middle empire, was a stroke which the art of statuary, how-
ever flourishing before, was never able entirely to recover.
Painting was now the only ornament of their palaces and
temples; a hundred pictures of unexceptionable beauty
were more easily to be met with, than a fingle tolerabie
ftatue; and those who were defcended from Phidias and
Scopas, were as totally unacquainted with the art of their
ancestors, as they were with the bravery of Miltiades and
Themistocles.

The reign however of Conftantine X. promised to this art a more favourable destiny. Having vifited Italy, before he mounted the throne, and acquired a fondness for the remains of Roman magnificence, he embraced every opportunity of encouraging his fubjects in attempting to imitate the models of antiquity.

Nor did he fail in his defign. No fooner was it known that in his court genius was fure of being protected and rewarded, than the artists repaired to it from every quarter, embellished with their performances the place of his refidence, and exerted their talents in obedience to his will.

Among all these labourers in brass and marble, the most fortunate, and at the Fame time, the most deserving, was Melonion; a man whofe reputation for integrity and virtue was not inferior to his profeffional abilities, and whose fenfibility of tafte, however exquifite, was fully equalled by the benevolence of his heart.

One evening at funset, as he was about to give over his labours for the day, there came into his work-shop a very old man, and begged the permiffion to examine his perforinances. The white hair of this venerable figure, a certain brilliancy and animation in his eyes, which age had leffened, but had not been able to extinguish; his habit, which, though coarfe, was yet neat and becoming; the look which he threw upon the masterpieces before him,-a

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