JOVE TO HERCULES.

'Twas not my nectar made thy strength divine,

But 'twas thy strength which made my nectar thine!

See, full of hope, thou trustest to the earth

The golden seed, and waitest till the spring

Summons the buried to a happier birth;

But in Time's furrow duly scattering,

Think'st thou, how deeds by wisdom sown may be,

Silently ripen'd for Eternity?