Great Jove! to whose Almighty Throne,

Both Gods and mortals homage pay,

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Ne'er may my soul thy power disown,

Thy dread behests ne'er disobey.

Oft shall the sacred victim fall,

In sea-girt Ocean's mossy hall;

My voice shall raise no impious strain,

'Gainst him who rules the sky and azure main.

How different now thy joyless fate,

Since first Hesione thy bride,

When plac'd aloft in godlike state,

The blushing beauty by thy side.

Thou sat'st, while reverend Ocean smil'd,

And mirthful strains the hours beguil'd;

The nymphs and Tritons danc'd around,

Nor yet thy doom was fix'd nor Jove relentless frown'd.

HARROW, December 1, 1804.

LINES in "LETTERS OF AN ITALIAN NUN AND AN ENGLISH GENTLEMAN," by J.J. ROUSSEAU, founded on Facts.

Away, away,—your flattering arts,

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