Samuel Johnson

Wouldst thou to some steadfast seat,
Out of Fortune's power retreat
Wouldst thou, when fierce Eurus blows,
Calmly rest in safe repose

The rites derived from ancient days With thoughtless reverence we praise,
The rites that taught us to
The joys of music and of wine,
And bid the feast, and song and bowlO'erfill the saturated soul:

To Stella:
Evening now from purple
Sheds the grateful gifts she brings;
Brilliant drops bedeck the mead,

Though countless as the grains of
That roll at Eurus' loud command;
Though countless as the lamps of
That glad us with vicarious light;

When Scaliger, whole years of labour past,
Beheld his lexicon complete at
And weary of his task, with wond'ring eyes,
Saw, from words pil'd on words, a fabric rise,

Thou who survey'st these walls with curious eye,
Pause at this tomb where Hanmer's ashes lie;
His various worth through varied life attend,
And learn his virtues while thou mourn'st his end

The man who pants for ample sway,
Must bid his passions all obey;
Must bid each wild desire be still,
Nor yoke his reason with his will:

Of the modern versifications of ancient legendary tales
- An impromptu
The tender infant, meek and mild,
Fell down upon the stone:

Friendship
peculiar boon of Heaven,
The noble mind's delight and pride,
To men and angels only given,

ED one and twenty Ling'ring year at last has flown,
Pomp and pleasure, pride and plenty Great Sir John, are all your own
Loosen'd from the minor's tether,
Free to mortgage or to sell,

When Learning's triumph o'er her barb'rous foes First rear'd the stage, immortal Shakespear rose; Each change of many-colour'd life he drew, Exhausted worlds, and then imagin'd new: Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign, And panting Time toil'...

O Thou
whose power o'er moving worlds presides,
Whose voice created, and whose wisdom guides,
On darkling man in pure effulgence shine,