THE FAIRY'S ANSWER. BY THE MARGRAVINE OF ANSPACH. いず WITHOUT preamble, to my friend Or give, if I am able; I dare not hesitate to say Though I have trembled all the day, Last night's adventure is my theme; Must make you own the matter such, To be composed in sport. Fair Luna shone serenely bright, While Zephyr fann'd the trees: Save that yon stream, which murmuring flows,' Still echoed to the breeze. Enwrapp'd in solemn thoughts I sate, Revolving o'er the turns of Fate, When lo! behold an airy throng, With lightest steps, and jocund song, A form superior to the rest His little voice to me address'd, And gently thus began: "I've heard strange things from one of you, Pray tell me if you think 'tis true; Explain it if you can, "Such incense has perfumed my throne, Such eloquence my heart has won, I think I guess the hand: I know her wit and beauty too, But why she sends a prayer so new I cannot understand, "To light some flames, and some revive, To keep some others just alive, Full oft I am implored: But, with peculiar power to please, To supplicate for naught but ease,--.. 'Tis odd upon my word! "Tell her, with fruitless care I've sought, And though my realms, with wonders fraught, In remedies abound, No grain of cold Indifference Was ever yet allied to Sense, "The regions of the sky I'd trace, I'd ransack every earthly place, Each leaf, each herb, each flower, To mitigate the pangs of Fear, Dispel the clouds of black Despair, Or lull the restless hour. "I would be generous as I'm just, But I obey, as others must, Those laws which Fate has made; My tiny kingdom how defend, ""Twould put your mind into a rage; And such unequal war to wage Suits not my regal duty! I dare not change a first decree, She's doom'd to please, nor can be free Such is the lot of beauty!" This said, he darted o'er the plain, No glimpse of him I find; These words, before he took his flight, HAPPINESS. FROM POPE'S ESSAY ON MAN. Oн Happiness! our being's end and aim! Good, Pleasure, Ease, Content! what'er thy name: Where grows-where grows it not? If vain our toil, Fix'd to no spot is Happiness sincere, "Tis no where to be found, or every where; Aud fled from monarchs, ST. JOHN, dwells with thee. To trust in every thing, or doubt of all. Who thus define it, say they more or less Than this, that Happiness is Happiness? Take nature's path, and mad opinions leave'; Remember, man, "the Universal Cause |