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Various pieces in verse and prose

By the late Nathaniel Cotton. Many of which were never before published. In two volumes
  
  

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The Tenth Ode of the second Book.
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The Tenth Ode of the second Book.

Wou'd you, my friend, true bliss obtain?
Nor press the coast, nor tempt the main.
In open seas loud tempests roar,
And treacherous rocks begirt the shore.
Hatred to all extremes is seen,
In those who love the golden mean.
They nor in palaces rejoice,
Nor is the sordid cot their choice.

50

The middle state of life is best,
Exalted stations find no rest;
Storms shake th'aspiring pine, and tower,
And mountains feel the thunder's power.
The mind prepar'd for each event,
In every state maintains content.
She hopes the best, when storms prevail,
Nor trusts too far the prosperous gale.
Shou'd time returning winters bring,
Returning winter yields to spring.
Shou'd darkness shroud the present skies,
Hereafter brighter suns shall rise.
When Pæan shoots his fiery darts,
Disease and death transfix our hearts;
But oft the God withholds his bow,
In pity to the race below.

51

When clouds the angry heavens deform,
Be strong, and brave the swelling storm;
Amidst prosperity's full gales
Be humble, and contract your sails.