A 511660
1764
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SCIENTIA
VERITAS
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UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
PUNIBUS
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12
POEM S
ΟΝ
SEVERAL OCCASIONS.
By the REVEREND
Mr. STEPHEN DUCK.
With a LIFE of the AUTHOR, by the Rev.
JOSEPH SPENCE, late Profeffor of Poetry
in the Univerſity of OXFORD.
The FOURTH EDITION.
LONDON:
Printed for JOHN RIVINGTON; T. LONGMAN;
HAWES, CLARKE, and COLLINS; and
GEORGE KNAPP. MDCCLXIV.
E
+
સંત
TO THE
QUEEN.
MADAM,
T
HE great Honour Your
Majeſty has done me, in giv-
ing me Leave to prefix Your Royal
Name to the following Poems, does
not encourage me to prefume they
are worthy to be laid at Your Feet
A 3
on
vi
DEDICATION.
on any other Account, but only as
they are an humble Tribute of Duty,
offer'd from a thankful Heart to a
gracious Benefactreſs. Your Ma-
jefty has indeed the fame Right to
them, as You have to the Fruits of a
Tree, which You have tranfplanted
out of a barren Soil into a fertile
and beautiful Garden. It was Your
Generofity which brought me out
of Obfcurity, and ftill condefcends
to protect me; like the Supreme
Being, who continually ſupports the
meaneſt Creature, which his Good-
nefs has produc'd.
I have Room here to expatiate
upon a very inviting Subject; but
Your
DEDICATION. vii
Your Majeſty has nobly prevented
all Panegyric, even from the beſt
Pens, by building Your Fame on
a much more lafting Bafis, than
that of Praiſe in Dedications.
Your Encouragement of Arts and
Sciences, Your Efteem and Friend-
fhip for all Defenders of Truth,
while they are living, the Regard
You pay to their Memories when
dead, and your generous Care of
their Widows and Orphans, record
Your Virtues in fuch Characters as
will ever be legible. Your Chri-
ftian Love to Mankind, Your zeal-
ous Endeavours to promote Reli-
gion, a Soul made tender to feel
A 4
our
viii
DEDICATION.
our Misfortunes, and a Will in-
clin'd to redrefs them, are fuch
amiable and heavenly Qualities, as
fhine beſt by their own Light, and
can receive no Luftre from the fineſt
Deſcription.
May Heaven long preferve Your
Majefty to practife all thefe Virtues,
to be a perpetual Source of Com-
fort and Joy to our glorious Mo-
narch, a Bleffing to the Nation,
and a noble Pattern of Beneficence
and Generoſity to future Queens.
Your Majefty's great Goodnefs to
myſelf draws this Prayer from a
Heart fill'd with Gratitude. As
there
DEDICATIO N. ix
there is fo little Merit in what You
now honour with Your Royal Pro-
tection, I ſhall endeavour to fupply
the Defects, the only Way that is
in my Power, by my Thanks, and
Prayers for Your Majefty: Thefe
I' will ever continue, and always
make it my greateſt Ambition to
ſhew with what profound Refpect
I am,
MADAM,
Your MAJESTY's
Moft Grateful,
Moft Devoted, and
Moft Dutiful Servant,
STEPHEN DUCK.
[xi]
PREFACE.
WH
HAT I propofe in this Preface,
is only to beſpeak the Reader's Good-
nature, and to ſay ſomething which may incline
him to pardon what he cannot commend. I have
indeed but a poor Defence to make for the Things
I have wrote: I don't think them good, and bet-
ter Judges will doubtless think worse of them
than I do. Only this, I believe, I may fay of
them, That, if they have nothing to delight
thoſe who may chance to read them, they have
nothing to give Modefty a Blush; if nothing to
A 6
enter-
xii
PREF A CE.
tain and improve the Mind, they have nothing
to debauch and corrupt it.
Another Motive, that I hope may induce
the Reader to overlook the Defects in this Vo-
lume, is, That the oldest Poem in it is little
more than fix Years of Age; and a confider-
able Part of the Time fince that was writ,
has been spent in endeavouring to learn a Lan-
guage, of which I was then entirely ignorant;
tho', I fear, the few Attempts I have made
in Tranflations, will too well convince the Pub-
lic, to bow little Purpose I have employed my
Time. I confess myself guilty of a great Pre-
fumption in publiſhing Imitations of Horace,
when many eminent Hands have done it much
better before me: But when I was only endea-
vouring to understand him, I found it difficult
to conquer a Temptation I had to imitate fome
of his Thoughts, which mightily pleas'd me.
If I may be forgiven this Experiment, I pro-
mife
PREFACE.
xiii
mife to trouble the World with nothing of this
Nature again, at least, till I may be able to do
my Author more Justice.
I have not myſelf been fo fond of writing,
as might be imagin'd from ſeeing. So many
Things of mine as are got together in this Book.
Several of them are on Subjects that were given
me by Perfons, to whom I have fuch great
Obligations, that I always thought their De-
fires Commands. My Want of Education
will be too evident from them, for me to men-
tion it here: And I hope, when the Reader
weighs my Performances, he will put that, and
other Difadvantages into the Scale.
I am afraid, the Letter relating to myself,
wrote by a worthy and learned Gentleman, will
be thought an improper Thing in a Publication
made by myself: But, as I was defired to pre-
fix it, by Perfons whom I think it an Honour
to obey, I hope it will be pardon'd; and the
rather,
xiv
PREFACE.
rather, becauſe a very falfe Account had been
publiſh'd before, by a Perſon who ſeems to have
had as little Regard for Truth, as he had for
Honesty, when he stole my Poems.
I would willingly here make known my Obli-
gations to thoſe worthy Perfons who firſt took
Notice of me in the midst of Poverty and La-
bour, were I not afraid, my Gratitude, thus
publickly express'd, would offend them more than
my Silence. However, I must beg leave to
return my Thanks to a Reverend Gentleman of
Wiltſhire, and to another of Winchefter:
The former made my Life more comfortable,
as foon as he knew me; the latter, after giving
me feveral Teftimonies of his Bounty and Good-
nefs, prefented my first Effays to a Lady of
Quality attending on the Queen, who made my
low Circumstances known to Her Majeſty.
I hope too, that all thofe Honourable Per-
fons, whofe Names do me fo much Credit at
the
PREFACE.
XV
the Beginning of my Book, in the Quarto Edi-
tion, will accept my Acknowledgments and
Thanks for fo liberal a Subfcription: And as
this Volume, I fear, will tell them, they have
not encouraged a Poet, I will endeavour to
let them fee they have been generous to an honest
Man.
ΑΝ
[ xvii ]
EEEEEEEEEBEEE
A N
ACCOUNT
OF THE
AUTHOR:
In a LETTER to a FRIEND.
I
SIR,
Written in the Year 1730.
Don't wonder that you ſhould defire ſo dif-
tinct an Account, how Stephen Duck came
to write Verſes, and how he manag'd in
writing them. Philofophers find as much Sub-
ject for their Admiration in the minuteſt Bodies,
as in the largeſt; and a Poet from the Barn,
tho' not fo great a Man, is as great a Curiofity,
as a Dictator from the Plough. I can be parti-
cular
xviii
An Account of
cular enough as to his firft fetting out in Poe-
try; and, fince you feem to defire it, fhall give
you all the Circumftances I could learn from a
Week's Converfation with him in all his Sim-
plicity; without confidering, that many of
them, to a Perfon lefs curious, might appear
too trifling to be mention'd even in a Letter.
My Friend Stephen had originally no other
Teaching, than what enabled him to read, and
write English; he had never taken a fingle Step
toward any other Language. As Arithmetick
is generally join'd with this Degree of Learn-
ing, he had a little Share of that too. About
his Fourteenth Year he was taken from School,
and was afterwards fucceffively engag'd in the
ſeveral loweſt Employments of a Country Life.
This lafted for fome Years; fo long, that he had
forgot almoſt all the Arithmetick he had learn'd
at School: However he read fometimes, and
thought oftener. He had a certain Longing
after Knowledge; and when he reflected with-
in himſelf on his Want of Education, he began
to be particularly uneafy, that he ſhould have
forgot fomething of what he had learnt, even at
the little School he had been at. He thought
of this ſo often, that at laft he refolv'd to try his
own Strength; and, if poffible, to recover his
Arithmetick again.
HIS
}
the AUTHOR.
xix
His first Attempt of this Kind I take to have
been about Six Years ago. Confidering the
Difficulties the poor Fellow lay under, this In-
clination for Knowledge muft have been very
ftrong in him. He was then married, and at
Service; he had little Time to fpare; he had
no Books, and no Money to get any
But he
was refolv'd to go thro' with it; and accord-
ingly us'd to work more than other Day-labour-
ers, and by that Means got fome little Matter
added to his Pay. This Overplus was at his
own Difpofal. With this he bought firft a Book
of Vulgar Arithmetick, then one of Decimal,
and a third of Meaſuring of Land; all which
by degrees he made himſelf a tolerable Mafter
of, in thofe Hours he could ſteal from his Sleep,
after the Labours of the Day.
WHERE there was fuch a Defire for Know-
ledge, there muſt be good Senfe at bottom, and
a Soul, at leaſt, ſomewhat above the common
Converſation he must meet with in his poor
State of Life. I have afk'd him, whom he had
that he could talk and converfe with in the
Country; and was pleas'd to find him, in this
Particular, happier than I expected. He faid, he
had one dear Friend, that he mention'd with un-
common Affection. They us'd to talk and read
together, when they could ſteal a little Time for
it.
XX
An Account of
it.
This Friend had been in a Service at Lon-
don for two or three Years: He had an Inclina-
tion to Books; he had purchas'd fome, and
brought 'em down with him into the Country;
and Stephen had always the Uſe of his little Li-
brary; which by this Time, poffibly, may be
increas'd to two or three dozen of Books. This
Friend knew no more out of English than Ste-
phen, but by talking together they mutually
improv'd each other. Stephen is all Simplicity:
He fays, "That his Friend can talk better than
"he, as having been more us'd to Company;
"but that he himſelf has been more us'd to
"Poetry, and in that can do better than his
"Friend."
HAD it not been for this, Stephen muſt have
been plac'd in the fame Clafs with Hai Ebn
Yokdhan, and the young Hermes in Mr. Ram-
Jay's Cyrus: but the Story of their Improve-
ments without any Affiftance agrees only with
Romances; and you know, what I am writing
to you is a true Hiftory. Our retired Philo-
fopher had his Friend; and it feems to have
been the greateſt Happinefs of his Life that he
had one. They did not only read, but reaſon'd
over Points together; and I have fometimes.
thought, how agreeable a Thing it would have
been, to have been conceal'd within hearing of
them, when they were in the midft of fome of
their
the AUTHOR.
xxi
heir moſt knotty Debates. We may imagine
them both to have had good natural Senfe, and
a few good Books in common between them :
Their Minds were their own; neither improv'd,
nor fpoil'd, by laying in a Stock of Learning:
They were perhaps equally well inclin'd to learn,
both ftruggling for a little Knowledge; and,
like a Couple of Rowers on the fame Bottom,
while they were only ftriving, perhaps, which
fhould outdo his Companion, they were really
each helping the other, and driving the Boat on
the faſter.
PERHAPS YOU would be willing to know-
what Books their little Library confifted of. I
need not mention thoſe of Arithmetick again,
nor his Bible: Milton, the Spectators, and Seneca,
were his firft Favourites; Telemachus, with an-
other Piece by the fame Hand, and Addifon's
Defence of Chriftianity, his next. They had
an English Dictionary, and a Sort of English
Grammar, an Ovid of long ftanding with them,
and a Byshe's Art of Poetry of latter Acquifi-
tion: Seneca's Morals made the Name of l'E-
Jirange dear to them; and, as I imagine, might
occafion their getting his Jofephus in Folio,
which was the largeſt Purchace in their Collec-
tion: They had one Volume of Shakespeare,
with Seven of his Plays in it. Befide thefe,
Stephen had read three or four other Plays; fome
4
of
xxii
An Account of
of Epictetus, Waller, Dryden's Virgil, Prior,
Hudibrafs, Tom Brown, and the London Spy.
You may fee I am a faithful Hiftorian, by my
giving you the Bad with the Good.
WITH thefe Helps Stephen is grown fome-
thing of a Poet, and fomething of a Philofo-
pher. I find by him, that, from his Infancy, he
has had a Caft in his Mind toward Poetry. He
has delighted, as far back as he can remember,
in Verſes, and in Singing. He fpeaks of ſtrange
Emotions that he has felt on the top Perfor-
mances of the little Choir of Songſters in a Coun-
try Chancel, and mentions his first hearing of
an Organ, as a remarkable Epocha of his Life.
He feems to be a pretty good Judge too of a
mufical Line; but I imagine, that he does not
hear Verfes in his own Mind, as he repeats
them. I don't know whether you underſtand
me. I mean, that his Ideas of Notes in a Verſe,
and his Manner of repeating the fame Verfe,
are often different. For he points out an har-
monious Line well enough; and yet he generally
ſpoils its Harmony by his Way of ſpeaking it.
WHAT first gave him a higher Tafte of Poe-
try, than he had been us'd to, was Milton's
Paradife Loft. This came oddly enough into
his Hands; and when I fee you, I'll tell you
the Hiſtory of it. Stephen read it over twice
or
the AUTHOR.
xxiii
or thrice with a Dictionary, before he could
underſtand the Language of it thoroughly.
This, and a Sort of English Grammar they
had, have been of the greateſt Uſe to him of
any Thing.
INDEED it feems plain to me, that he has
got English just as we get Latin.
we get Latin. He ſtudy'd
Paradife Loft, as others ftudy the Claffics. The
new Beauties in that Poem, that were continually
opening upon his Mind, made his Labour eafy
to him. He work'd all Day for his Maſter
and, after the Labour of the Day, fet to his
Books at Night. The Pains he has taken for
the Pleaſure of improving himſelf are incredible;
but it has anſwer'd too beyond what one could
have expected; for he feems to underſtand fome
of the great and deeper Beauties of that Poem
tolerably well; and points out ſeveral particular
Beauties in it, which it requires a good nice Eye
to diſcover.
'TWAS his Friend that helped him to the
Spectators; they read them often together, and
often by themſelves. Stephen tells me, that he
has frequently carry'd them with him to his
Work. When he did fo, his Method was to
labour harder than any body elſe, that he might
get Half an Hour to read a Spectator, without
injuring his Maſter. By this means he us'd to
fit
xxiv
An Account of
fit down all over Sweat and Heat, without re-
garding his own Health, and often to the Pre-
judice of it. If this affects you, as it has me, I
ought not to pass it over, that you may not loſe
the Pleaſure of ſo ſtrong an Inſtance of Honefly
and Induſtry mixt together.
THE Spectators improv'd his Understanding,
he fays, more than any Thing. The Copies
of Verfes fcatter'd in thofe Pieces, help'd on his
natural Bent that Way; and made him willing
to try, whether he could not do fomething like
them. He fometimes turn'd his own Thoughts
into Verfe, while he was at Work; and at laft
began to venture thoſe Thoughts a little on Pa-
per. What he did of this Kind, was very in-
confiderable; only ſcatter'd Thoughts, and ge-
nerally not above Four or Five Lines on the
fame Subject which, as there was nobody
thereabouts that car'd for Verfes, nor any body
that could tell him whether they were good or
bad, he generally flung into the Fire, as foon
as he had pleas'd himfelf enough in reading
them.
WHATEVER Care he took to burn theſe lit-
tle Pieces, he found it not fufficient to conceal
them. The Thing took Air; and Stephen,
who had before the Name of a Scholar among
the Country People, was faid now to be able
to
*
the AUTHOR.
XXV
to write Verſes too. This was mention'd acci-
dentally, about a Year ago, before a young
Gentleman of Oxford, who fent for Stephen;
and after fome Talk with him, defir'd him to
write him a Letter in Verfe. That Letter is
the Epiftle which ftands the laft in his Poems,
but was the firſt whole Copy of Verſes that ever
he wrote. This happen'd to fall into the Hands
of fome Clergymen in the Neighbourhood, who
were very well pleas'd with it; and upon exa-
mining him, found the Man had a good deal
of Merit. They gave him fome Preſents, which,
as Things flood then, were a great Help to
him; and encourag'd him to go on as much as
they could.
THIS made him proceed with more Courage:
And, as he had wrote fome fcatter'd Verfes on
Poverty, before this happen'd, he carry'd thofe
Thoughts on, and fill'd it up, as it ftands at
prefent in the printed Collection I fend you: So
that this is his fecond Copy. I am very care-
ful in fettling the Chronology of his Poems,
that you may fee how he has gone on Step by
Step, if you pleafe.
THE Compoſition which was next in Order,
is that on his own Labours: That Subject was
given him by one of thoſe who firſt encourag'd
him; and, after this was finish'd, he was em-
ploy'd
2
xxvi
An Account of
ploy'd from the fame Quarter in his Shunam-
ite. As this exceeded any of the reſt, I think
from hence we may date the Era of his riſing
in Character and Circumftances. Upon this it
was that Perfons of Diftinction began to fend for
him different Ways. In fhort, it got him Fame.
enough to be pretty troubleſome to him at firſt;
tho' it is likely to end in a much happier Settle-
ment of him and his Affairs, than could ever
have been dreamt of by him at his first fetting
out.
WHEN you have read his Poems, and con-
fider the Manner he has been bred up in, I
doubt not you will think they have their Merit:
But I affure you, they give an imperfect Idea
of the Man; and, to know how much he de-
ferves, one fhould converfe with him, and hear
on what Reaſons he omitted fuch a Part, and
introduc'd another; why he fhortens his Stile
in this Place, and enlarges in that; whence he
has fuch a Word, and whence fuch an Idea.
I'll give you all I can recollect of this kind, in
relation to what is generally reckon'd the beſt
Thing he has wrote, The Shunamite.
In the first Place, I found, upon Enquiry,
that he wrote by a Plan; he thought over all
the Parts, as he intended to uſe them, before
he made the Verles. For a Poem of any
Length,
the AUTHOR.
xxvii
Length, no doubt 'tis as neceffary to do this, as
it is to have a Draught of a Houſe, before you
go to building it; and yet, I believe, the com-
mon Run of our Poets have generally thought
themſelves above it, or not thought of it at all.
Tho' the Shunamite was written on a Story given
to his Hand, ftill fomething of this Kind was
convenient enough; becaufe, in forming it a-
new, he did not make ufe of all the Materials
before him, and has brought in fome of his own.
He thought, the Stretching of the Prophet, in fo
particular a Manner, muit found ftrange. The
Woman introduc'd to tell her Story, is a new
Caft of his own; fo is her doubting, and then
confirming herſelf again, by a particular Induc-
tion of all Elifba's Miracles; fo the bringing an
Audience about her, and their Chorus's, when
they join together in congratulating her Happi-
nefs; the laſt of which clofes the Poem in a good
proper Manner.
UPON being afk'd, Why he introduc'd a Per-
fon to tell all the Story in the Shunamite, and
why he could not as well tell it himſelf; he ſaid,
he had read Prior's Solomon ; and that, in read-
ing it, Solomon's fpeaking every thing touch'd
him particularly. He was then afk'd, fince it
was to be ſpoken, why he did not rather chufe
the Prophet, as the Perfon of the greater Dig-
nity, to ſpeak it. He faid to this, That the
Woman
a 2
XXVid
An Account of
Woman was to be pity'd; That there feem'd
to be * ſome Expreffions of the Woman in the
History, which, if not omitted, might leffen
our Regard and Compaffion for her; That, if
the Prophet had related the Thing, he could
not have omitted a Word; but when the Wo-
man did, fhe might well be allow'd to foften
her own Cafe; and to drop, when fhe was cool,
any thing wrong, that ſhe ſaid in the Violence
of her Grief and Paffion. This is rather fuller
in Words than he exprefs'd it; but nothing, I
think, is added to his Meaning.
As Milion had been his favourite Poet, you
wonder why none of his Pieces are in Blank
Verfe. I afk'd him about this too: Upon which
he told me, That he had originally written the
whole Shunamite in Blank Verfe; That, upon
reading it over, he found his Language was
not fublime enough for it; and that therefore he
was forc'd to write it all over again, and turn it
into Rhyme.
UPON reading over the Chapter and his Poem
together, you will fee how juftly he fhortens
and enlarges fome of the particular Paſſages, in
order
*Such as theſe :
Ver. 16. And he said; Nay, my Lord, thou Man of God,
do not lye unto thy Handmaid.
Ver. 28. Did I defire a Son of my Lord, Did I not fay, Do
ret deceive me?
the AUTHOR.
xxix
order to adapt them the more to Poetry. Be-
fides fome Things already mention'd, he drops
feveral little Circumſtances in it. On the to-
ther hand, he enlarges on the (1) Contentedneſs
and Charities of the Woman; on the (2) Look
and Attitude of the Prophet; on her (3) Thanks
for bearing a Son; on (4) the Death of the
Child; on the (5) Reafons of her Confidence
in the Prophet; on (6 pointing out the Pro-
phet, when he comes to him; and in (7) his
Anfwer; in her (8) preffing the Prophet more
earneſtly to affift her; in (9) pointing out the
dead Child; his being (10) freed from Death;
and her Thoughts (11) upon receiving him
again into her Arms.
'Tis agreeable to fee what Ufe he has made
of the little Reading he can have had, and how
he has improv'd the Thing, by oblerving fome
good Strokes in the Books he has met with.
Upon my telling him, that I lik'd nothing bet-
ter in it, than his altering * the Prophet's
Countenance as he does; he faid, he took that
Hint from Telemachus; where the young Prince
comes to Idomeneus's Court, while they are fa-
criticing.
a 3
+ See 2 Kings, Chap. iv. Verfes 10, 12, 14, 25, 26,
27, 28, 29, 34, and 35.
(1) Line 33 to 49. (2) 55, &c. (3) 76. (4) 112 to 134,
(5) 152, &c. See 205. (6) 211. (7)
(8) Line 232. (9) 246.
From Line 55 to 63.
(10) 258. (11) 265.
XXX
An Account of
crificing.
The Prieft, on feeing Telemachus,
breaks off from what he was about, affumes a
more infpir'd Air, and begins fpeaking of his
future Fortunes. This Alteration of the Pro-
phet's Countenance, Stephen ſays, he took from
thence; but that at the fame Time he thought
himſelf oblig'd to drop the Wildneſs and En-
thuſiaſm of it, in order to adapt it more to the
Nature of a true Prophet.
THE Chorus in the Clofe of the Shunamite,
he faid, was brought into his Mind by the +
general Rejoicing of the Angels in Milton, up-
on God's finiſhing the Creation of the World.
The first Chorus was not in the Work originally;
he inferted it, when he new-form'd it all into
Rhyme.
He had alſo been very careful as to fingle
Words; and had Authorities to produce in fe-
veral little Particulars, where one would not
expect it. For (1) flow'ry Carmel, he quotes
Mr. Pope; and the Prophet's Arbour on the
Top of that Mount is cover'd with (2) Vines,
on the Authority of Mr. Sandys in his Travels;
For the Words (3) aduft and fupernal, he re-
fers to Milton: (4) Fanatic he ufes according
to the true, and not the Vulgar Senfe of the
Word;
+ Paradife Loft, Book vii. Line 565, and 602.
(1) The Shunamite, Ver, 210. (2) 212, (3) 117, and
249. (4) 56.
ཧཱུྃ
the AUTHOR.
xxxi
World; he had learn'd the proper Meaning of
it from the Dictionary: (1) Dilated Heart, as
ſpoken of Sorrow, is certainly a Fault; but it is
a Fault that Stephen was naturally enough led
into by the common Notions and Expreffions in
the Country, of the Heart's Swelling and being
ready to burst with Grief.
He owns his Faults very readily; and if he
thinks a Line of his better than ordinary, he will
fay fo without any Referve. He ſeems to be
exceedingly open and honeft in every thing he
fays; and 'twould be very difficult for you to
be with him a Week, as I have been, without
going away very much his Friend.
THO' I have been fo long in fhewing you how
critically he has proceeded as to his own Works;
I fhall add fome of his Thoughts on the Works
of others, to give you as full an Idea of him as
I can.
'Tis not yet three Years ago that he first met
with Milton; and, I believe, that was the firſt
Poet of real Value, that he ever ftudy'd in ear-
neft. He has affur'd me, with all his Inno-
cence and Simplicity, that when he came after-
wards to read Addiſon's Criticifins on Milton in
the Spectators, 'twas a high Pleafure to him to
a 4
(1) The Shunamite, Ver. 243.
find
xxxii
An Account of
find many Things mention'd there, in the Praite
of Milton, exactly as he had before thought in
reading him. Here we muft depend on his
Credit, which I need not tell you with me is
very good.
THE Name of Milton, whom he admires and
dotes on fo particularly, has not prevail'd on
him enough to make him like his Paradife Re-
gain'd. In fpeaking of theſe two Poems, he faid,
"he wonder'd how Milton could write fo in-
"comparably well, where he had fo little to
"lead him; and fo very poorly, where he had
"more."
THE Spectators, you know, he has read with
great Pleaſure, and great Improvement. I re-
member particularly, that, on fomebody's calling
them Profe, he faid, "'Twas true, they were
"Profe; but there was fomething in 'em, that
"pleas'd almoft like Verfe." He mention'd,
with more Regard than ufual, the critical Pa-
pers on Wit, thofe on Milton, the Juftum &
tenacem from Horace, Mr. Pope's Meffiah, and
the feveral ſcatter'd ones written in the Cauſe of
Virtue and Religion.
UPON aſking him what Plays he had read,
he nam'd particularly Julus Cæfar, Hamlet,
Cato, Venice Preferv'd, and the Orphan. Venice
Preferv'd,
the AUTHOR.
xxxiii
Preferv'd, he faid, gave him the moſt Horror;
a Word which I took Notice he us'd fometimes
for Sorrow, and fometimes in its proper Senfe :
He could not bear the comic Parts in it. Ham-
let he lik'd better than Julius Cæfar; and in
Hamlet pointed out that celebrated Speech, To
be, or not to be, &c. as having been his favour-
ite Part, merely of his own Tafte. He did
not admire Shakespear's Comedy; and faid,
"He was too high, and too low." I read over
to him fome of Hamlet, and the celebrated
Speeches of Antony to the People in Julius Ce-
far. He trembled, as I read the Ghoft's Speech;
and admir'd the Speeches and Turns in the Mcb
round Cæfar's Body, more, he faid, than ever
he had done before. As I was reading to him,
I obferv'd that his Countenance chang'd often
in the moſt moving Parts: His Eye was quick
and bufy all the Time; and, to fay the Truth,
I never faw Applaufe, or the fhifting of proper
Paffions, appear fo ftrongly in any Face as in.
his..
He had formerly read Tom Brown's Letters
from the Dead, and the London Spy, not with-
out fome Pleafure; but, after he had been fome
time converfant with the Spectators, he ſaid,
"He did not care much to look into them."
He spoke of Hudibras in another Manner; le
faw a great deal of Wit in it, and was particu-
a 5
larly
xxxiv
An Account of
larly pleas'd with the Conjurer's Part in that
Poem: But, after all, 'tis not a Manner of
Writing that he can fo fincerely delight in, as
in the Moral, the Paffionate, or the Sublime.
INDEED what every body feems to admire
him for, is, that he feems to have an excellent
moral Turn in his Thoughts. He is, as I told
you before, fomething of a Philofopher; and,
what is better than a Philofpher, a good honeſt-
hearted Man. He has read, and fpeaks highly
of, the Archbishop of Cambray's Demonftration
of the Being of a God, and Mr. Addifon's De-
fence of the Chriftian Religon. He faid,
"That they touch'd his Mind; and that no-
.
thing did fo well, as when one's Reafon is
"mov'd by what is faid." He had lik'd the
little he had read of Epictetus; but 'twas Seneca
that had made him happy in his own Mind.
He ſeems as yet not to be hurt at all by any
Applauſes that have been given him, and to
have been perfectly contented with his Condi-
tion before: When he had only receiv'd fome
Prefents from Gentlemen in the Country, he
was quite eafy as to his Circumftances.
only thing then, that he was folicitous about,
was, how he might fucceed as to the Poetry he
fhould be employ'd in. This was his chief Con-
cern: But even this feem'd to proceed not fo
much from any Defire of Fame, as from a
The
Principle
the AUTHOR.
XXXV
Principle of Gratitude; or, as he exprefs'd it,
his Longing to pleaſe thoſe Friends that had
been fo generous to him. He was not lifted up
with the Character fome People gave him, and
talk'd of Fame abfolutely like a Philofopher.
After his beſt Fortune, many of his Friends told
him the Danger of being vain; and, if he ſhould
once be fo, that he would be as much defpis'd
as he had been applauded. He faid, "That
"he could not well tell what they meant; That
"he did not know what it was to be vain; But,
"fince fo many great Men, who knew the
"World fo much better than he did, were ap-
"prehenfive for him on that Head, he began
"to be terribly alarm'd at his Danger, tho' he
"had no fettled Ideas of what it was." He
was told upon this, That he ſhould never ſpeak
too highly in Praiſe of the Poems he had writ-
ten. He faid, "If that was all, he was fafe;
"that was a thing he could never do, for he
"could not think highly of them: Gentlemen
"indeed, he faid, might like them, becauſe
"they were made by a poor Fellow in a Barn;
"but that he knew, as well as any body, that
they were not really good in themfelves."
66
THUS, Sir, I have obey'd your Commands
as faithfully as I am able. You defir'd me not
to ſpare Paper; but to fend you a Book rather
than a Letter. You fee I have taken you at
a 6
your
xxxvi
An Account of the AUTHOR.
your Word; and that I am refolv'd in this, as
well as in every thing elfe, to fhew you how
punctually I would ever be,
SIR,
Your most humble Servant,
THERMIT
J. SPENCE.
[ xxxvii ]
*************
Upon Her MAJESTY's Bounty to
T
the Threſher..
Written in the Year 1730..
O chear the Mufe, by Poverty oppreft,
To free from meaner Cares th' inſpired Breaſt,
To give the Genius Liberty to fly,
And mount with eaſier Wings its native Sky,
Was worthy Hèr, who always underſtood
The nobleft Ufe of Power was doing Good.
So, when the oaten Pipe's melodious Strain
Reach'd CAESAR's Royal Ear, nor reach'd in vain,
Safe, and protected, for himſelf employ'd,
His Song, his Harveſt, TITYRUS enjoy'd ;
O'er his own Fields, his Flocks, and Cattle ſtray'd,
And on the Mincio's Bank fecurely play'd.
WHAT
[ xxxviii]
WHAT equal Hand fhall now an Altar raiſe,
Like that erected to AUGUSTUS' Praife?
From Pindus come, come, all ye tuneful Choir,
And in this Work with various Arts confpire;
Come all, by PALLAS, or by PHOEBUS taught,
To form the Plan, or to expreſs the Thought:
Infcribe the Stone with CAROLINA's Name,
Sacred to Her, and her immortal Fame ;
Firm fix the Bafis, wreathe the Foliage round,.
Begin the Rites, and let the Muſic found.
Ye Sons of Cam and Ifis, leave the Shade;
Be here your Duty, here your Off 'rings paid;
No longer let true Merit lie conceal'd,
As foon rewarded, as to her reveal'd ;
Produce your Labours on the public Stage,
And ſhe ſhall raiſe a new Auguftan Age.
J. WAINWRIGHT.
To
[ xxxix ]
To STEPHEN DUCK:
Occafion'd by his Poem on FRIENDSHIP.
N
O fancied Mufe, nor Heliconian Stream,
Inſpires my Verfe, but thy well-choſen Theme;
Well-chofen, well-exprefs'd, while, void of Art,
Thou ſpeak'ft the Dictates of an honeſt Heart.
Truth needs no fpecious Glofs; but, ever bright,
Shines, like the Sun, with pure unborrow'd Light;
And fuch thy pleafing Strains: No pompous Phrafe ·
Bribes the unworthy with unhallow'd Praiſe;
No fervile Flattery, nor dull Deſign,
Creeps, with foft Accent, thro' the fawning Line;
Nor jealous Envy rears its hateful Head,
To fting the Living, or revile the Dead ;
Nor Malice, nor Caprice haft thou, like thofe,
Whofe pointed Satire dares a thouſand Foes:
4.
(Not
[ xl ]
(Not but, if Fops lay Snares for Ridicule,
And Smartlings think it Wit to play the Fool,
Indignant Satire has a juft Pretence,
With all her Whips to lafh them into Senfe)
To pleaſe, and only pleaſe, thy Nature tends,
And, Friend to all Men, makes them all thy Friends.
WITH double Tranſport therefore I perufe
The genuine Truths of your untutor❜d Muſe ;
While thus you teach us Friendſhip's facred Law,
And are yourſelf the faithful Friend you draw.
So to thoſe Prieſts we glad Attention give,
Whoſe Precepts Sanction from their Lives receive.
"Twas this that rais'd thee from thy lowly Seat,
'Tis this fhall make thy Happineſs complete ;
A Soul fincere, to Gratitude inclin❜d,
An Heart untainted, and an humble Mind,
Infpir'd by thefe, write on, and charm the Age,
Nor dread the envious Critic's idle Rage:
For who the fnarling ZoILUS regards,
When SPENCE approves, and CAROLINE rewards?
T. MORELL.
}
CONTENTS.
T
O a Gentleman who requefied a Copy of Verfes from
the Author
On Poverty
The Thresher's Labour
The Shunamite
Gratitude: A Paftor al
I A Paftoral Elegy
On a Good Confcience
On Mufic
On Richmond Park, and Royal Gardens
Avaro and Amanda
Apww
98 a
I
4
7
21
34
39
48
49
51
61
To a Young Lady, who had a Cupid given her
92
of her Health
The Abfent Lover
On the Honourable Mrs. Horner's Truvelling for the Recovery
On a Screen, work'd in Flowers by her Royal Highneſs ANNE,
Princess of Orange
96
To His Royal Highness the Dake of Cumberland, on His
Birth Day
To Death. An irregular Ode
On Mrs. L-
S
Truth and Falfhood. A Fable
Proper Ingredients to make a Sceptic
97
99
10
ibid.
93
94
11[
On tavo Young Ladies leaving the Country
ibid.
On Mites. To a Lady
113
Chloe's Conquest
114
Occafion'd by a Difpute with a Lady
ibid.
To Mr. Worfdale: Occafion'd by feeing Celia's Picture un-
finish'd
115
OB
*
xlif
CONTENT S.
On the Queen's Grotto in Richmond Gardens
116
To the Author of a Poem on the Duke of Lorrain's Arrival at
the British Court
On Florella's Birth Day
118
119
To the Rev. Dr. Freind, on his quitting Weſtminſter School 120
On Celia's Picture, drawn by Sir Godfrey Kneller
122
On the Marriage of His Serene Highness the Prince of
Orange
ibid.
Verles to the Author, in Imitation of Horace's Ode on
Pindar
The Anſwer
129.
134
135
On Delia finging, and playing on Mufic
To the Right Hon. William Clayton, Efq; (now Lord Sun-
don) on his being elected Reprefentative in Parliament for
Weſtminſter without Oppofition
136
To Mr. Winder (now Fellow) of Corpus-Chrifti, Oxford; in
Answer to a Latin Epifile, which he jent me
138
A Defcription of a Journey to Marlborough, Bath, Portf
mouth, &c.
Penelope to Ulyffes. Paraphras'd from Ovid
An Epigram
A Poem on Her MAJESTY's Birth Day
141
265
273
274
Felix and Conftance
277
Ad Joannem Miltonum
208
Imitated
ibid.
An Imitation of the Tenth Ode of the Second
Book of
Horace
209
Book of
212
An Imitation of the Sixteenth. Ode of the Second
Horace
An Imitation of the Sixteenth Ode of the Third Book of
Horace
Felix, qui patriis, &c. imitated from Claudian
Of Friendship
216
220
224
An Ode preſented to their Royal Highnesses the Prince and Princess
of Wales, in Richmond Gardens.
238
POEMS
POEMS
<
ON
SEVERAL OCCASIONS.
To a Gentleman, who requested a Copy of
Verfes from the Author.
I
SIR,
Have, before the Time prefcrib'd by you,
Expos'd my weak Production to your View;
Which may, I hope, have Pardon at your Hand,
Becauſe produc'd to Light by your Command.
Perhaps you might expect fome finiſh'd Ode,
Or facred Song, to found the Praiſe of God;
A glorious Thought, and laudable! But then
Think what illit'rate Poet guides the Pen:
Ill fuit fuch Taſks with One who holds the Plough,
Such lofty Subjects with a Fate fo low.
1
SIR,
2
POEM S
SIR, were your Eloquence and Learning mine,
And I, like you, a Fav'rite of the Nine;
I quickly would Parnaffus' Summit climb,
And find a Hero worthy of my Rhyme :.
Nor fhould my Mufe the Grecian Monarchs trace,,
Nor would I celebrate the Trojan Race;
Nor any of thoſe martial Sons of Fame,.
Pagans, unworthy of a Chriftian's Theme.
Far nobler Thoughts my grateful Voice ſhould raiſe,
In lofty Strains, to great MESSIAH's Praiſe:.
I'd joyfully refound his wond'rous Birth,
And paint his Godlike Virtues, whilft on Earth;
Then, with Reluctance, Horror, and Surprize,
I'd mournfully relate his Agonies ;
I'd trace the heavenly Hero to the Tree,
Sing what he ſuffer'd there for you and me;
Next, in heroic Numbers, would I tell,
How foon he baffled Death, and vanquiſh'd Hell,,
Subdu'd the Grave, and fhew'd the glorious Way,
From Realms of Darkneſs to eternal Day.
Such noble Subjects ſhould my Lays excite;
And you, my Patron, would in fuch delight ;
Grateful
on Jeveral Occafions.
3
}
Grateful to me, when you, well pleas'd, fhould view
Th' accompliſh'd facred Song infcrib'd to you.
BUT now I muft omit MESSIAH's Praife,
Left I degrade him with unworthy Lays;
My Fate compels me filent to remain,
For Want of Learning to improve my Strain:
By which no Thought, tho' well conceiv'd, can rife
To full Perfection, but in Embryo dies:
Yet my unpolish'd Genius will produce,
And bring forth Something, tho' of little Ufe.
THUS, in the Country, often have I found,
Thro' flothful Man's Neglect, a Plat of Ground,
Waſte and uncultivated, void of Seeds,
Producing Nothing, but fome trifling Weeds.
BUT why ſtand I my Fate accufing fo?
The Field calls me to Labour; I must go:
The Kine low after Meat; the hungry Steed,
Neighing, complains he wants his ufual Feed.
Then, Sir, adieu: Accept what you did crave,
And be propitious to your humble Slave.
On
4
POEMS
NⓇ
On POVERTY.
O Ill on Earth we tim'rous Mortals fly
With fo much Dread as abject Poverty:
O deſpicable Name! We, thee to fhun,
On ev'ry other Evil blindly run.
For Fear of thee, diftruftful Nigards go
In tatter'd Rags, and ftarve their Bodies too,
And ſtill are poor, for Fear of being ſo.
For Fear of thee, the cheating Trader vows,
His Wares are good, altho' his Confcience knows,
He has employ'd his utmoſt Skill and Care,
To hide their Faults, and make their Beauties glare.
The Sailor, terrify'd with Thoughts of thee,
Boldly attempts the Dangers of the Sea;
}
From Eaſt to Weft, o'er Rocks and Quickfands ſteers;
'Tis Poverty, and that alone, he fears;
The Soldier too, whom nought but thee can ſcare,
In Hopes of Plunder, bravely meets the War;
To fly from Poverty, he runs on Death,
And fhews he prizes Riches more than Breath.
Strange Terror of Mankind! By thee mifled,
Not Conſcience, Quickfands, Rocks, or Death they
dread!
1
And
on feveral Occafons.
5
And yet thou art no formidable Foe,
Except to little Souls, who think thee fo:
Who thro' the Glaſs of Prejudice furvey
Thy Face, a thouſand frightful Forms diſplay.
THUS Men, at Night, in fooliſh Fears grown old,
Who mind the fairy Tales their Nurfes told,
Start at a Goblin, which their Fancy made,
And, for a Spectre, often take a Shade.
CONTENTED Poverty's no difmal Thing,
Free from the Cares unwieldy Riches bring:
At Diſtance both alike deceive our View;
Nearer approach'd, they take another Hue.
The poor Man's Labour reliſhes his Meat ;
His Morfel's pleaſant, and his Reſt is ſweet :
Not fo the Rich, who find their weary'd Taſte
Pall'd with the Profpect of the cumb'rous Feaft;
For what they have more than they can enjoy,
Inſtead of fatisfying, does but cloy.
BUT let us ftate the Cafe another Way:
Were Poverty fo hideous as they ſay,
'Tis
6 POE
POEM S
'Tis nobler chearfully to bear our Fate,
Than murmur and repine beneath its Weight.
The Man deferves the Praife of human Kind,
Who bears ill Fortune with a Chriftian Mind :
How does his great heroick Soul aſpire
Above that fordid Wealth the reſt admire !
His nobler Thoughts are fix'd on Things above;
His faithful Eyes furvey the GOD of Love:
Hold forth the heavenly Prize, which makes him run
His mortal Race, to gain th' immortal Crown.
Not all the Snares a crafty Dev'l can lay,
Can intercept, or daunt him in his Way.
Not all the fcornful Infults of the Proud,
Not all the Cenfures of the grov'ling Croud,
Not Poverty, in all her Terrors dreſt,
Can fhake the folid Quiet of his Breaſt :
Unmov'd he ſtands againſt the worst of Foes,
And mocks the Darts, which adverfe Fortune throws,
Calm and compos'd, amidſt or Eafe or Pain;
And finds Content, which others feek in vain.
So ftands a ſteady Rock, fublimely ſteep,
Within the Confines of the briny Deep;
Lafh'd
on feveral Occafions.
7
Laſh'd by the foaming Surge on ev'ry Side,
Yet can't be ſhaken by the furious Tide.
THEN Why fhould Phantoms difcompoſe the Mind
Or Woes, fo far from real, fright Mankind?
Since Wealth can never make the Vicious bleft,
Nor Poverty fubdue the virtuous Breaft;
Since both from Heav'n's unerring Hand are fent,
LORD, give me either, give me but CONTENT.
********
;
菠​菠​螢
​The THRESHER'S LABOUR,
T
To the Reverend Mr. STANLEY.
HE grateful Tribute of thefe rural-Lays,
Which to her Patron's Hand the Mufe conveys,
Deign to accept: 'Tis juft fhe Tribute bring
To him, whofe Bounty gives her Life to fing;
To him, whofe gen'rous Favours tune her Voice;
And bid her, 'midft her Poverty, rejoice.
Infpir'd by thefe, fhe dares herſelf prepare,
To fing the Toils of each revolving Year;
B
Thofe
&
POEM S
********
Thoſe endleſs Toils, which always grow anew,
And the poor Thresher's deftin'd to purſue:
Ev'n thefe, with Pleaſure, can the Mufe rehearſe,
When you and Gratitude demand her Verfe.
Soon as the golden Harveſt quits the Plain,
And CERES' Gifts reward the Farmer's Pain;
What Corn each Sheaf will yield, intent to hear,
And gueſs from thence the Profits of the Year,
He calls his Reapers forth: Around we ftand,
With deep Attention, waiting his Command.
To each our Taſk he readily divides,
And pointing, to our diff'rent Stations guides.
As he directs, to diſtant Barns we go;
Here two for Wheat, and there for Barley two.
But first, to ſhew what he expects to find,
Thefe Words, or Words like thefe, diſcloſe his Mind:
"So dry the Corn was carry'd from the Field,
"So eafily 'twill threſh, fo well 'twill yield;
"Sure large Day's-Works I well may hope for now:
"Come, ftrip, and try; let's fee what you can do."
DIVESTED
}
on feveral Occafions.
9
DIVESTED of our Cloaths, with Flail in Hand,
At proper Diſtance, Front to Front we ftand:
And first the Threfhal's gently fwung, to prove,
Whether with juſt Exactneſs it will move :
That once fecure, we ſwiftly whirl them round,
From the ftrong Planks our Crab-tree Staves rebound,
And echoing Barns return the rattling Sound.
Now in the Air our knotty Weapons fly,
And now with equal Force defcend from high;
Down one, one up, fo well they keep the Time,
The CYCLOPS' Hammers could not truer chime ;
Nor with more heavy Strokes could Ætna groan,
When VULCAN forg'd the Arms for THETIS' Son.
In briny Streams our Sweat defcends apace,
Drops from our Locks, or trickles down our Face.
No Intermiffion in our Work we know ;
The noify Threſhal muſt for ever go.
Their Maſter abfent, others fafely play;
The fleeping Threſhal does itſelf betray.
Nor yet, the tedious Labour to beguile,
And make the paffing Minutes fweetly fmile,
B 2
Can
IO
POEMS
Can we, like Shepherds, tell a merry Tale
The Voice is loft, drown'd by the louder Flail.
But we may think Alafs ! what pleafing Thing,
Here to the Mind, can the dull Fancy bring?
Our Eye beholds no pleaſing Object here,
No chearful Sound diverts our lift'ning Ear.
The Shepherd well may tune his Voice to fing,
Inſpir'd with all the Beauties of the Spring.
No Fountains murmur here, no Lambkins play,
No Linnets warble, and no Fields look gay;
'Tis all a gloomy, melancholy Scene,
Fit only to provoke the Mufe's Spleen.
When footy Peaſe we threſh, you ſcarce can know
Our native Colour, as from Work we go:
The Sweat, the Duft, and fuffocating Smoke,
Make us fo much like Ethiopians look,
We ſcare our Wives, when Ev'ning brings us home;
And frighted Infants think the Bugbear come.
Week after Week, we this dull Tafk purfue,
Unleſs when winn'wing Days produce a new ;
A new, indeed, but frequently a worſe!
The Threſhal yields but to the Mafter's Curfe.
He counts the Buſhels, counts how much a Day ;
Then ſwears we've idled half our Time away:
"Why,
on feveral Occafions.
"Why, look ye, Rogues, d'ye think that this will do?
"Your Neighbours threſh as much again as you.”
Now in our Hands we wifh our noify Tools,
To drown the hated Names of Rogues and Fools.
But wanting thefe, we juſt like School-boys look,
When angry Mafters view the blotted Book :
They cry, “their Ink was faulty, and their Pen;"
We, "the Corn threshes bad, 'twas cut too green.'
BUT foon as Winter hides his hoary Head,
And Nature's Face is with new Beauty ſpread;
The lovely Spring appears, refreſhing Show'rs
New cloath the Field with Grafs, and blooming Flow'rs.
Next her the rip'ning Summer preſſes on,
And SoL begins his longeft Race to run.
Before the Door our welcome Maſter ftands ;
Tells us the ripen'd Grafs requires our Hands.
The grateful Tiding preſently imparts
Life to our Looks, and Spirits to our Hearts.
We wish the happy Seafon may be fair;
And, joyful, long to breathe in op'ner Air.
This Change of Labour feems to give fuch Eafe,
With Thoughts of Happineſs ourſelves we pleafe.
B 3
But,
12
POEM 5
But, ah! how rarely's Happineſs complete!
There's always Bitter mingled with the Sweet.
When firſt the Lark fings Prologue to the Day,
We rife, admoniſh'd by his early Lay;
This new Employ with eager Haſte to prove,
This new Employ, becomes fo much our Love.
Alas! that human Joys fhould change fo foon!
Our Morning Pleaſure turns to Pain at Noon.
The Birds falute us, as to Work we go,
And with new Life our Bofoms feem to glow.
On our right Shoulder hangs the crooked Blade,
The Weapon deftin'd to uncloath the Mead :
Our left ſupports the Whetſtone, Scrip, and Beer;
This for our Scythes, and theſe ourſelves to chear.
And now the Field, defign'd to try our Might,
At length appears, and meets our longing Sight.
The Grafs and Ground we view with careful Eyes,
To fee which Way the beſt Advantage lies;
And, Hero-like, each claims the foremoſt Place.
At firſt our Labour ſeems a ſportive Race:
With rapid Force our ſharpen'd Blades we drive,
Strain ev'ry Nerve, and Blow for Blow we give.
All ſtrive to vanquish, tho' the Victor gains
No other Glory, but the greateſt Pains.
BUT
on feveral Occafions.
13
BUT when the ſcorching Sun is mounted high,
And no kind Barns with friendly Shade are nigh;
Our weary Scythes entangle in the Grafs,
While Streams of Sweat run trickling down apace.
Our ſportive Labour we too late lament ;
And wiſh that Strength again, we vainly ſpent.
THUS, in the Morn, a Courfer have I feen
With headlong Fury fcour the level Green;
Or mount the Hills, if Hills are in his Way,
As if no Labour could his Fire allay;
Till PHOEBUS, fhining with meridian Heat,
Has bath'd his panting Sides in briny Sweat:
The lengthen'd Chace ſcarce able to ſuſtain,
He meaſures back the Hills and Dales with Pain.
WITH Heat and Labour tir'd, our Scythes we quit,
Search out a fhady Tree and down we fit :
From Scrip and Bottle hope new Strength to gain;
But Scrip and Bottle too are try'd in vain.
Down our parch'd Throats we ſcarce the Bread can get;
And, quite o'erfpent with Toil, but faintly eat,
Nor can the Bottle only answer all;
The Bottle and the Beer are but too fmall.
B 4
Time
}
14
POEMS
Time flows: Again we rife from off the Grafs;
Again each Mower takes his proper Place
Not eager now, as late, our Strength to prove;
But all contented regular to movɛ.
We often whet, and often view the Sun;
As often wifh, his tedious Race was run.
At length he veils his purple Face from Sight,
And bids the weary Labourer, Good Night.
Homewards we move, but ſpent ſo much with Toil,
We flowly walk, and reft at ev'ry Stile.
Deputing V 1505, whe unlik we Itay,
Got to the Door, foon eye us in the Way.
Then from the Pot the Dumplin's catch'd in Haſte,
And homely by its Side the Bacon plac'd.
Supper and Sleep by Morn new Strength ſupply;
And out we fet again, our Work to try;
But not fo early quite, nor quite fo faft,
As, to our Coft, we did the Morning paſt.
SOON as the rifing Sun has drank the Dew,
Another Scene is open to our View:
Our Mafter comes, and at his Heels a Throng
Of prattling Females, arm'd with Rake and Prong;
Prepar'd
1
·
on feveral Occafions.
น่า
Prepar'd, whilft he is here, to make his Hay;
Or, if he turns his Back, prepar'd to play;
But here, or gone, fure of this Comfort ſtill;
Here's Company, fo they may chat their Fill.
Ah! were their Hands fo active as their Tongues,
How nimbly then would move the Rakes and Prongs!
THE Graſs again is ſpread upon the Ground,
Till not a vacant Place is to be found ;
And while the parching Sun-beams on it ſhine,
The Hay-makers have Time allow'd to dine.
That foon diſpatch'd, they ftill fit on the Ground;
And the briſk Chat, renew'd, afreſh goes round.
All talk at once; but feeming all to fear,
That what they ſpeak, the reft will hardly hear;
Till by degrees fo high their Notes they ſtrain,
A Stander-by can nought diſtinguiſh plain.
So loud's their Speech, and fo confus'd their Noife,
Scarce puzzled EGно can return the Voice.
Yet, ſpite of this, they bravely all go on ;
Each ſcorns to be, or feem to be, outdone..
Mean-while the changing Sky begins to lour,
And hollow Winds proclaim a fudden Show'r ;
B 5
}
The
•
16 POEMS
POE
1
The tattling Croud can ſcarce their Garments gain,
3
Before defcend the thick impetuous Rain;
Their noify Prattle all at once is done,
And to the Hedge they foon for Shelter run.
THUS have I ſeen, on a bright Summer's Day,
On fome green Brake, a Flock of Sparrows play;
From Twig to Twig, from Buſh to Buſh they fly;
And with continued Chirping fill the Sky:
But, on a fudden, if a Storm appears,
Their chirping Noife no longer dins our Ears;
They fly for Shelter to the thickeſt Buſh;
There filent fit, and all at once is hufh.
BUT better Fate fucceeds this rainy Day,
And little Labour ſerves to make the Hay.
Faſt as 'tis cut, ſo kindly ſhines the Sun,
Turn'd once or twice, the pleaſing Work is done.
Next Day the Cocks appear in equal Rows,
Which the glad Maſter in ſafe Ricks beſtows.
THE fpacious Fields we now no longer range;
And yet, hard Fate! ftill Work for Work we change.
Back
J
on feveral Occafions.
17
Back to the Barns we haftily are ſent,
Where lately ſo much Time we penſive ſpent :
Not penfive now, we blefs the friendly Shade;
And to avoid the parching Sun are glad.
Yet little Time we in the Shade remain,
Before our Maſter calls us forth again ;
And ſays, " For Harveſt now yourſelves prepare;
"The ripen'd Harveſt now demands your Care.
"Get all Things ready, and be quickly dreft;
<6
Early next Morn I ſhall diſturb your Reſt.”
Strict to his Word! for fcarce the Dawn appears,
Before his hafty Summons fills our Ears.
His hafty Summons we obey; and rife,
While yet the Stars are glimm'ring in the Skies.
With him our Guide we to the Wheat-field go,
He to appoint, and we the Work to do.
YE Reapers, caft your Eyes around the Field;
And view the various Scenes its Beauties yield.
Then look again, with a more tender Eye,
To think how foon it muft in Ruin lie!
For, once fet in, where-e'er our Blows we deal,
There's no refifting of the well-whet Steel:
But
18 POEM
S
But here or there, where-e'er our Courſe we bend,
Sure Defolation does our Steps attend.
THUS, when Arabia's Sons, in Hopes of Prey,
To fome more fertile Country take their Way,
How beauteous all Things in the Morn appear
There rural Cots, and pleaſant Villa's here!
So many grateful Objects meet the Sight,
The raviſh'd Eye could willing gaze till Night.
But long 'ere then, where-e'er their Troops have paſt,
The pleaſing Proſpects lie a gloomy Waſte.
THE Morning paft, we fweat beneath the Sun ;
And but uneafily our Work goes on.
Before us we perplexing Thiftles find,
And Corn blown adverſe with the ruffling Wind.
Behind our Mafter waits; and if he ſpies
One charitable Ear, he grudging cries,
"Ye fcatter half your Wages o'er the Land."
Then fcrapes the Stubble with his greedy Hand.
LET thoſe who feaft at Eafe on dainty Fare,
Pity the Reapers, who their Feafts prepare :
3
For
on feveral occafions:
19
For Toils fcarce ever ceafing prefs us now;
Reft never does, but on the Sabbath, how;
And barely that our Mafters will allow..
Think what a painful Life we daily lead ;
Each Morning early rife, go late to Bed:
Nor, when afleep, are we fecure from Pain ;
We then perform our Labours o'er again :
Our minic Fancy ever reſtleſs ſeems;
And what we act awake, fhe acts in Dreams.
2016
Hard Fate! our Labours ev'n in Sleep don't ceaſe.
Scarce HERCULES e'er felt fuch Toils as theſe !
}
BUT foon we rife, the bearded Crop again
Soon PHOEBUS' Rays well dry the golden Grain.
Pleas'd with the Scene, our Mafter glows with Joy ;
Bids us for Carrying all our Force employ;
When ſtraight Confufion o'er the Field appears,
And ſtunning Clamours fill the Workmens Ears;
The Bells and claſhing Whips alternate ſound,
And rattling Waggons thunder o'er the Ground.
The Wheat, when carry'd, Peaſe, and other Grain,
We foon fecure, and leave a fruitlefs Plain;
In noiſy Triumph the laſt Load moves on,
And loud Huzza's proclaim the Harveſt done.
OUR
20
POEMS
OUR Mafter, joyful at the pleafing Sight,
Invites us all to feaft with him at Night.
A Table plentifully ſpread we find,
And Jugs of humming Ale, to chear the Mind;
Which he, too gen'rous, puſhes round fo faft,
We think no Toils to come, nor mind the paſt.
But the next Morning foon reveals the Cheat,
When the fame Toils we muſt again repeat;
To the fame Barns muſt back again return,
To labour there for Room for next Year's Corn.
THUS, as the Year's revolving Courſe goes round,
No Refpite from our Labour can be found :
Like SISYPHUS, our Work is never done;
Continually rolls back the reftlefs Stone.
New-growing Labours ftill fucceed the paſt ;
And growing always new, muſt always laſt.
The
on feveral Occafions.
21
'
D
The SHUNAMITE.
To Mrs. STANLEY.
EIGN, heav'nly Muſes, to affift my Song:
To heav'nly Muſes heav'nly Themes belong.
But chiefly Thou, O GOD, my Soul infpire,
And touch my Lips with thy celeſtial Fire :
If Thou delight'ft in flow'ry Carmel's Shade,
Or Jordan's Stream; from thence I crave thy Aid :
Inftruct my Tongue, and my low Accents raife,
To fing thy Wonders, and diſplay thy Praiſe :
Thy Praiſe let all the Sons of Judah hear,
And to my Song the diſtant Tribes repair.
So pray'd the Shunamite ; Heav'n heard the Dame ;.
The diftant Tribes around her lift'ning came,
To hear th' amazing Tale; while thus her Tongue,
Mov'd by ſome heav'nly Pow'r, began the Song.
ATTEND, ye Seed of ABR AM, and give Ear,
While I JEHOVAH's glorious Acts declare :
How
22
POEM S
How Life from Death, and Joy from Sadnefs fpring,
If He affift the Mufe, the Muſe ſhall fing.
My Lord and I, to whom all-bounteous Heav'n
His Bleffings with no fparing Hand had giv❜n,
Like faithful Stewards of our wealthy Store,
Still lodg'd the Stranger, and reliev'd the Poor
And as ELISHA, by divine Command,
Came preaching Virtue to a finful Land
He often deign'd to lodge within our Gate,
And oft receiv'd an hofpitable Treat:
A decent Chamber for him we prepar❜d;
And He, the gen'rous Labour to reward,
Honours in Camp, or Court, to us propos'd;
Which I refus'd, and thus my Mind difclos'd::
HEAV'N's King has plac'd us in a fertile Land,
Where he ſhow'rs down his Gifts with copious Hand:
Already we enjoy a fluent Store ;
Why ſhould we be folicitous for more ?.
Give martial Camps and kingly Courts to them,
Who place their only Bliſs in fleeting Fame :
There let them live in golden Chains of State;
And be unhappy only to be great.
But
on feveral Occafions.
23
But let us in our native Soil remain,
Nor barter Happineſs for fordid Gain.
Here may we feed the Indigent in Peace,
Or cloath the Bare with the fuperfluous Fleece,
And give the weary fainting Pilgrim Eaſe.
This we prefer to Pomp, and formal Show,
Which only ſerve to varniſh o'er our Woe;
Refulgent Ornaments, which dreſs the Proud,
Objects of Wonder to the gazing Croud;
Va Teldom give Content, or folid Reft,
To the vain Man by whom they are poffefs'd.
ALL Bleffings, but a Child, had Heav'n ſupply'd ;
And only that th' Almighty had deny'd:
Which when the holy prefcient Sage had heard,
He ſaid, and I before him ſtraight appear'd;
And, as my Feet approach'd his awful Room,
I faw his Face diviner Looks affume:
Not fuch a Wildneſs, and fanatic Mein,
With which, fome fay, the Delphic Prieſts are ſeen;
When they, for Myſteries of Fate, explain
The odd Chimera's of a frantic Brain;
But with a grave majeſtic Air he ſtood,
While more than Human in his Afpect glow'd.
Celeft-
24
POEM S
Celeſtial Grace fat on his radiant Look,
And Pow'r diffufive fhone, before he spoke.
Then thus: "Hail gen'rous Soul! thy pious Cares
“Are not forgot, nor fruitleſs are thy Prayers:
st Propitious Heav'n, thy virtuous Deeds to crown,
“Shall make thy barren Womb conceive a Son.”
So fpake the Seer; and, to compleat my Joy,
As he had ſpoke, I bore the promis'd Boy.
SOON to my Friends the welcome News was known,
Who crouded in apace to ſee my Son.
Hailing, with kind Salutes, the recent Child;
And, with their pious Hymns, my Pain beguil'd.
When all had faid, I mov'd my joyful Tongue;
And thus to Heav'n addrefs'd my grateful Song:
"O GOD, what Eloquence can fing thy Praiſe ?
"Or who can fathom thy ftupendous Ways?
"All Things obey at thy divine Command;
"Thou mak'ft a fruitful Field of barren Land:
"Obdurate Rocks a fertile Glebe ſhall be,
"And bring forth copious Crops, if bid by Thee;
"Arabian Deferts fhall with Plenty fmile,
"And curling Vines adorn the fterile Soil."
As
on feveral Occafions.
25
As thus ſhe ſpake her Audience raife their Voice;
And interrupt her Song, as they rejoice:
"O GOD, we gladly hear thy mighty Pow'r,
"With joyful Heart thy gracious Name adore:
"All Nature is fubfervient to thy Word;
"And ſhifts her wonted Courſe, to pleaſe her Lord.
"We for thy Servant's Joy, our Thanks expreſs;
"As grows the Child, fo may her Blifs increaſe:
"And may the Guardian Angels, who prefide
"Over the Bleſs'd, his future Actions guide ;
"Make ſpotlefs Virtue crown his vital Date,
"And hoary Honour end his Life- but late;
"Then fafely bear"--The Dame here wav'd her Hand;
The People ftrait obey her mute Command:
All filent ftand, and all attentive look,
Waiting her Words, while thus fhe mournful ſpoke:
ALL Pleaſures are imperfect here below;
Our ſweeteſt Joys are mix'd with bitter Woe:
The Draught of Blifs, when in our Goblet caft,
Is dafh'd with Grief; or ſpilt before we taſte.
Ere twice four Years were meaſur'd by my Son,
(So foon, alaſs! the greateſt Bleſſing's gone)
In
·26
POEM S
}
In Harveſt-time he to the Reapers goes,
To view the bearded Sheaves, erect in Rows,
Like an embattled Army in the field,
A new delightful Proſpect to the Child!
But either there the fcorching Sun diſplay'd
His Heat intenfe, and on his Vitals prey'd;
Or elfe fome fudden apoplectic Pain,
With racking Torture, feiz'd his tender Brain;
His Spirits fail'd, he ſtraight began to faint,
And to his Father vainly made Complaint :
The glowing Rofe was quickly feen to fade:
At once his Beauty, and his Life decay'd.
SOON, at my Houſe, the difmal News I heard';
Soon, at my Houſe, the dying Child appear'd :
T'embrace him I, with fond Affection, run;
And, O! faid I, what Pain afflicts my Son?
He try'd to ſpeak; but fault'ring, gave a Groan.
No perfect Word proceeded from his Tongue;
But on his Lips the broken Accents hung.
All Means I us❜d, that might allay his Pain;
All Means I uſed, but us'd them all in vain.
Yet, while he liv'd, my Soul would not deſpair;
Nor, till he ceas'd to breathe, I ceas'd my Pray'r:
Deluding
on Several Occafions.
27
Deluding Hope now ſtopt the falling Tears;
Now his encreaſing Pains increas'd my Fears :
By Hope and Fear alternate was I toft,
Till Hope, in a fad Certainty was loft:
Short, and more ſhort, he drew his panting Breath,
(Too ſure Preſage of his approaching Death !)
Till foon the Blood, congealing, ceas'd to flow;
He dropt his Head, with a declining Bow :
Thrice, from my Breaſt, to raiſe himſelf he try'd,
And thrice funk down again; then, groaning dy'd.
THUS, when with Care we've nurs'd a tender Vine,
And taught the docile Branches where to twine;
An Eaſtern Gale, or fome pernicious Froft,
Nips the young Tree, and all our Labour's loſt.
WITH Horror chill'd, a while I ſpeechleſs ſtood,
Viewing the Child, and trembling as I view'd:
My Eyes difcharg'd their humid Store apace,
And Tears fucceeded Tears adown my Face:
Scarcely my Heart the Load of Grief fuftain'd;
At length recov'ring Speech, I thus complain'd:
O
28.
POEMS
O fleeting Joys, inconftant as the Wind!
Which only for a Moment pleaſe the Mind;
Then fly, and leave a Weight of Woes behind!
But yet in vain I thus lament and mourn;
The Soul once fled, fhall never more return;
And the fair Body now muſt be convey'd
To Earth's dark Bofom, and eternal Shade-
Yet let me not preſcribe a Bound to Heav'n ;
'Twas by a Miracle the Child was giv'n;
Nor can I think the Wonder is more great,
Should the departed Soul refume her Seat.
What if I to Mount Carmel hafte away,
To him who did his myftic Birth difplay?
His pow'rful Word the Barren fruitful made;
His pow'rful Word, perhaps, may raiſe the Dead.
The famous Tifhbite rais'd a Widow's Son;
ELISHA has as wond'rous Actions done.
When he to Jordan's rapid Torrent came;
And, with the Mantle, fmote th' impetuous Stream;
Obfequious to the Stroke, the Waves divide;
And raiſe a liquid Wall on either Side!
At Jericho long had the barren Soil
Deceiv'd the Hufbandman, and mock'd his Toil;
Yet
on feveral Occafions.
29
:
!
Yet, at his Word, it grew a fertile Field,
And pois'nous Springs did wholeſome Waters yield.
Nor can he only fuch great Bleffings fend;
But Curſes, if invok'd, his Call attend:
Elfe how at Bethel brought he Vengeance down,
As a juft Scourge, on that opprobrious Town?
Again, when Moab Peace with Iſrael broke,
And vainly ſtrove to quit the fervile Yoke;
Our pow'rful Kings led forth th' embattled Hoft
Thro' Edom's fultry Wilds, and Air aduſt;
Where the confed'rate Troops no Water found,
Dry were the Springs, and fterile was the Ground;
The Captains wonted Strength and Courage fail'd,
When Thirft and Foes at once their Hoft affail'd:
The Kings to him their joint Petitions made,
And fainting ſoldiers crav'd his timely Aid;
Nor crav'd in vain: The pow'rful Word he fpake
And flowing Waters form'd a fpacious Lake;
The ſhining Streams advanc'd their humid Train,
Till Edom's Wilds became a liquid Plain :
Not in raore Plenty did the Waters run
Out of the Rock, when ftruck by AMRAM's Son.
And who can that amazing Deed forget,
Which he perform'd to pay the Widows Debt?
Whofe
4.
30
POEM S
Whoſe quantity of Oil one Pot contain'd;
Yet num'rous Veffels fill'd, before 'twas drain'd.
Sure he, who fuch ftupendous Acts has done,
If GoD propitious prove, can raiſe my Son.
So faying, up I caught the Child with Speed;
And laid him on the facred Prophet's Bed;
Then call'd my
Servant to prepare the Steed.
Penfive and fad, my mourning Huſband ſaid,
'Tis now in vain to crave ELISHA'S Aid;
No God To-day the Prophet does infpire;
Nor can he anſwer, what thou wouldst inquire.
RATHER than fink, faid I, attempt to raiſe
My Hopes, nor talk of ceremonial Days;
His God is prefent ftill, and hears him when he prays.
Thus faid, urging my Steed with eager Hafte,
Swift as the Mountain Roe, the Plains I pafs'd;
O'er Hills and Dales my Journey I purſu'd ;
Nor flack'd my Pace, till Carmel's Mount I view'd;
On whoſe delightful Brow, in cool Retreat,
Among the curling Vines the prophet fat;
Whofe twining Arms a verdant Arbour made;
The verdant Arbour form'd a grateful Shade;
}
The
on Several Occafions.
31
The fanning Zephyrs gently play'd around,
And ſhook the trembling Leaves, and ſwept the Ground:
Down humbly at his Feet I proftrate fell,
Submifs; and, weeping, told the mournful Tale.
STRIVE to compoſe thy anxious Soul, faid he;
Tears can't revoke JEHOVAH's fix'd Decree :
We live and die, and both, as he thinks fit,
Who may command; but Mortals muft fubmit.
This Fate the King, as well as Peaſant, finds;
Nor is it evil, but to evil Minds
Yet if from Heav'n I can my Suit obtain,
Thy lifeless Son fhall yet revive again.
THUS faid, with Looks divine, his Staff he views,
As if fome pow'rful Charm he would infufe:
Then calls his Servant haftily, and ſaid,
On the Child's Face let this be quickly laid.
O Thou, ſaid I, on whom my Hopes depend,
Do not this Work to Servants Care commend :
If Thou thyself with me refufe to go,
Here, to the lift'ning Vines, I'll vent my Woe;
C
Still
32
POEM S
Still proftrate lie, lamenting for my Son,
Till ev'ry Hill prove vocal to my Moan.
More had I faid, but Grief the Words fuppreft;
Yet Sighs, and filent Tears explain’d the reſt.
At length he from his verdant Seat aroſe,
And hastily adown the Mountain goes :
To Shunem we, with Speed, our Way purſue;
The City foon appears within our View;
And the obedient Servant at the Gate,
Returning fad, without Succeſs, we met:
The beauteous Child by Death ſtill vanquiſh'd lay ;
Still Death inſulted o'er the beauteous Prey :
Till to the Houſe the facred Seer was come,
And, with fupernal Pow'r, approach'd the Room.
3
;
By the dead Child, awhile, he penfive ftood;
Then from the Chamber put the mourning Crowd:
That done, to GOD he made his ardent Pray'r,
And breath'd upon the Child with vital Air
And now the Soul refumes her priſtine Seat
And now the Heart again begins to beat;
Life's purple Current o'er the Body ſpreads,
While Death, repuls'd, ingloriously recedes.
;
THUS,
on feveral Occafions.
33
THUS, when a prowling Wolf has ſtol'n a Lamb,
He fternly guards it from the bleating Dam;
But if the Keeper comes, he quits his Prey,
And low'ring, with Reluctance, makes away.
AND now the Prophet, to my longing Arms,
Refign'd the Child, with more than wonted Charms :
The blufhing Rofe fhone freſher in his Face,
And Beauty fmil'd with a fuperior Grace.
So, when Heav'n's Lamp, that rules the genial Day,
Behind the fable Moon purſues his Way;
Affrighted Mortals, when th' Eclipfe is o'er,
Believe him more illuftrious than before.
HERE ends the Dame; and the promiscuous Throng,
With Hallelujahs thus conclude the Song:
66
Holy and good art Thou, Lord God of Hoft,
"And all thy Works are wonderful and juſt :
"Both Life and Death are in thy pow'rful Hand;
"Both Life and Death obey thy great Command:
By thy great Pow'r the Heav'ns and Earth are aw'd;
"Then let the Heav'ns and Earth adore their God.
C 2
"Thou
34
POEM S
},
"Thou glorious Sun, that meaſur'ſt all our Days,
«Ε
Rifing and fetting, ftill advance his Praiſe :
"Thou Moon, and ye lefs glitt'ring Orbs, that dance
"Round this terreftrial Globe, his Praiſe advance :
Ye Seas, for ever waving to and fro,
Praiſe, when ye ebb; and praiſe him when ye flow :
"Ye wand'ring Rivers, and each purling Stream,
As ye purfue your Courfe, his Praife proclaim:
"Ye Dews, and Mifts, and humid Vapours, all,
«Praife, when ye rife; and praiſe him, when ye fall:
"But chiefly Ifrael, who doft daily view
His pow'rful Works, his daily Praiſe renew."
************
GRATITUDE. A PASTORAL.
F
MENALCAS, COLIN.
MENALCAS.
Riend COLIN ! well o'ertook. I have of late
Obferv'd thy chearful Mein, and airy Gait:
Say, what aufpicious Change, fince t'other Day,
When by thy lonely Cot I took my Way?
Sorrow
on feveral Occafions.
35
Sorrow and Sadneſs then o'erſpread thy Brows,
And ev'ry Look did gloomy Cares diſcloſe :
Now Joys diffufive in thy Aſpect riſe,
And Mirth and Gladneſs ſparkle in thy Eyes.
COLIN.
WHERE haft thou liv'd, MENALCAS, not to know,
Whofe gen'rous Bounty has remov'd my Woe?
I thought, the gracious CAROLINA's Name,
Ere this, had fill'd the founding Trump of Fame.
THAT
MENALCA S.
Cious Name, the World is bound to blefs;
All grateful Swains her gen'rous Deeds confeſs :
But COLI, fay, has fhe remov'd thy Care?
I'm happy, when thy Happineſs I hear.
COLIN.
O You, MENALCAS, know my abject Birth,
Born in a Cot, and bred to till the Earth:
On rigid Worldlings always doom'd to wait,
Forc'd at their frugal Hands my Bread to get :
But when my Wants to CAROLINE were known,
She bleſs'd me with a Pafture of my own.
C 3
This
36
POEM S
This makes new Pleafures in my Bofom glow;
Thefe joyful Looks I to her Bounty owe.
MENAL CAS.
AND may kind Heav'n reward that gracious Queen,
Who to thy Wants has fo propitious been!
Yet, tho' her Bounty has thy Wants ſupply'd,
Let not her Bounty e'er exalt thy Pride;
But keep an humble Mind, a grateful Heart;
Her Favours far exceed thy own Defert :
Heav'n mov'd the Goodneſs of the Royal Dame;
And Heav'n and She thy Gratitude muft claim.
COLIN.
WHEN me She first into her Favour took,
I cut this oaken Staff, ('tis now my Crook)
And grav'd her Royal Bounty in the Rind;
But grav'd it deeper in my grateful Mind :
The Letters in the Staff may wear away;
Thoſe written in my Soul fhall ne'er decay.
MEN ALCA S.
So may thy little Flock increaſe their Tale ;
So may thy Field of Pafture never fail ;
May
on feveral Occafions.
37
May Heav'n and She, in juſt Proportion, ſtill
Or fmile, or frown, as thou art good, or ill.
COLIN.
MAY hungry Foxes kill my tender Lambs,
May pois'nous Serpents fuck their bleating Dams;
And may my Cows diftended Udders fail,
Elude my Hopes, and never fill the Pail;
In fhort (to make my Curfe the more complete,
Tho' 'tis the only Thing I dread and hate).
May Heav'n and heav'nly CAROLINE remove
Their Smiles, if COLIN e'er ungrateful prove.
MENAL CAS.
THY Thanks and Pray'rs her gen'rous Soul will pleaſe;
A Tribute juftly due, and paid with Eaſe:
Sometimes a Song, perhaps the my require;
And thou to fing, but lately didſt aſpire;
When in an abject, low, laborious State,
Sunk deep in Cares, and prefs'd beneath their Weight:
Then (fo, at leaſt, 'tis faid among our Swains)
In Sonnets COLIN charm'd away his Pains:
Much fooner now thou may'ſt a Song rehearſe,
Whene'er fhe condefcends to hear thy Verfe.
C 4
COLIN.
38
POEMS
4
COLIN.
O Friend! too well you know, my fimple Strains
Are far inferior to each rural Swain's:
Yet, fince Great CAROLINA thinks no Scorn,
To patronize a Shepherd meanly born ;
Henceforth I'll ſtrive to raife my Voice fublime,
And with her Royal Name adorn my Rhyme;
I'll on each verdant Mountain fing her Praie,
And vocal Groves fhall echo to my Lays;
To ev'ry Swain her Godlike Worth proclaim,
Nor ever drop the pleafing glorious Theme.
MENAL CAS.
THEN, fince we're met, where friendly Branches
fpread,
And trembling Leaves diffuſe a cooling Shade
;
Since, on the Sprays, the Thruſh and Finch rejoice,
Invoke thy Muſe, and tune thy rural Voice.
COLIN.
ANOTHER Day my rural Voice I'll raife,
Another Day the Muſe ſhall tune her Lays:
But now, alas! fuch crowding Joys I find,
No Words can ſpeak the Tranfports of my Mind.
Would
on feveral Occafions.
39
Would PHOEBUS warm me with poetic Fire,
Or would the Mantuan Mufe my Tongue inſpire;
As great ELIZA fhone in SPENCER's Line,
The Greater CAROLINA fhould in mine;
Then would I emulate the tuneful Throng,
And with her glorious Name immortalize my Song.
10 0 0 0 0 0 ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ 8 8 8
A PASTORAL ELEG Y.
A
T firft in Vales obfcure, the Lyre I ftrung;
Vales, where the Mufe her annual Labours fung:
Now, leaving theſe, the ranges o'er the Plains,
And tunes her Voice to Flocks and Shepherd Swains;
Yet, fresh in Grief, but feebly moves her Wings,
Weeps, while fhe flies; and trembles as fhe fings.
Two Country Swains, in Friendſhip firmly join'd;
Lov'd each alike, and were, like Brothers, kind:
Great CAROLINE her Royal Bounty fhow'd
To one, and rais'd him from the grov'ling Crowd;
When ſtraight his ſmiling Looks, and chearful Mien,
Proclaim'd the Goodneſs of a gracious QUEEN ;
C 5
But
40
POEM S
$
But gloomy Sadnefs föon his Face poffefs'd,
And clouded all the Joys before expreſs'd :
The other gay and pleaſant ftill appear'd;
Nor griev❜d for Evils paft, nor future fear'd ;
One Day they met; MENALCAS firft began;
And thus the Mournful Tale, alternate, ran :
MENALCAS.
WHY, COLIN, doft thou wear that penſive Look,
And fighing ſtand, fupported by thy Crook?
Say, from what Cauſe this Melancholy ſprings ?
Or doft thou verify what DAMON fings?
"Vain Man can never fatiate his Defires;
"The more he has, the more he ftill requires:
<<
To-day he's craving, and To-morrow cloy'd ;
"New Pleaſures grow infipid, when enjoy’d.”
So, when our Sheep on Hills refufe to feed,
We ſtraight remove them to the verdant Mead;
Where all, intent, the luſcious Herbage graze;
And, for that Day, their Pafture feems to pleafe:
The next, they range around the flow'ry Space;
And bleating tell, they loathe the tainted Graſs.
COLIN.
on feveral Occafions.
41
COLIN.
'TWAS Yeſterday, a giddy Sheep I view'd,
Which rofe in CUDDY'S Fold, and ſtagg'ring ſtood
While one with burly Horns, fecure from Pain,
Ran, enviouſly, and puſhed him down again.
So you, vain jefting Youth! unmov'd with Care,
Inſult the hapless Swain, that's in Deſpair.
MENAL CAS..
I nor infulted, nor intended Guile;
And, if I jeſted, 'twas to make thee ſmile :
;
But tell me, Swain, what wond'rous Turn of Fate
O'erclouds thy Face, that look'd ferene of late?
What, is thy Harveſt blaſted on the Ground?
Or has the Royal CAROLINA frown'd?
Unveil thy Griefs, and make thy Sorrows known;
You know, my Friend's Misfortunes are my own..
COLIN.
My Harveſt is not blafted on the Ground,.
Nor has the Royal CAROLINA frown'd:
But lately, when the Sun had gaily dreft
The lofty Mountains in a purple Veft,
}
•
I
42
POEM S
I early rofe, to tend my fleecy Care;
Wet was the Grafs, and piercing cold the Air.
My lovely SYLVIA, ftay behind, I faid,
Till I have weay'd a Garland for thy Head;
Till I a Bow'r, with fhady Branches, form,
To fhun the fcorching Ray, or rapid Storm ;
And when the Dew's exhal'd, which Night diftill'd,
Blefs COLIN with thy Preſence in the Field.
She anſwer'd not; but from her Bofom fent
A deep prefaging Sigh, before I went.
The Sun had painted ev'ry Object gay,
When to the chearful Field I took my Way;
The Lark with Mattins welcom'd in the Morn;
The Thruſh and Finch fat chirping on the Thorn;
The Swallows round, in airy Circles flew ;
And, ah poor COLIN then was joyful too;
But fuddenly I faw the Mifts ariſe,
And dark'ning Clouds o'er fpread the dufky Skies;
Th' Horizon feem'd to caſt a gloomy Frown,
While from his airy Height the Lark funk down;
The tuneful Birds their joyous Songs deny'd;
And boding Owls, and footy Ravens, cry'd.
My drooping Heart, which felt unuſual Weight,
Shock'd with fuck Omens, ceas'd almoft to beat :
Yet
on feveral Occafions.
43
Yet thefe, faid I, portend no Evil, while
My Royal Miſtreſs condefcends to ſmile,
If She's propitious, what can CoLIN fear?
Inur'd the leffer Ills of Life to bear.
Thus faid, I took my Way to yonder Grove;
And form'd, with fpreading Boughs, an arch'd Alcove :
So cloſe I twiſted in each pliant Spray,
As might exclude the Wind, or funny Ray.
With ſweeteſt Flow'rs I deck'd the moffy Ground,
And ftrew'd the fragrant Woodbinds all around.
Here, when, faid I, my SYLVIA comes a-field,
This grateful Bow' a ſafe Retreat ſhall yield:
If rainy, here ſhe may the Storms evade ;
If fair, the Branches will project a Shade:
Here SYLVIA fhall, with COLIN, take her Reft
And COLIN here, with SYLVIA, ſhall be bleft.
As thus I fpake, around I caft my Eye,
And ſaw celeftial CELTA drawing nigh :
I faw; but wonder'd why her heav'nly Mien
Was clouded o'er, that us'd to be ferene.
CELIA's the Miſtreſs of the flow'ry Plain,
Whofe's Bounty's known to ev'ry worthy Swain:
Not Godlike PAN prefided with more Care,
Nor to Arcadian Shepherds was fo dear,
When
}
44
POEM S
When CELIA to the rural Shade retires,
She ev'ry Breaſt with rifing Hope inſpires ;
Expecting Swains, with joyous Looks, proclaim
The happy Time, and hail the gen'rous Dame:
As languid Plants, which half the Year lie dead,
When Spring approaches, raiſe their drooping Head..
She crofs'd the Plains with a dejected Air;
Her penfive Aſpect fhew'd her pious Care;
And, loth th' unwelcome Tidings to reveal,
She fighing fpoke, and left th' unfiniſh'd Tale:
"Ah poor unhappy Swain! return, return;
"The fable Clouds foretell a rainy Morn:
"Nor only is the Day o'ercaft with Gloom;
"Thy pleaſing Hopes are blafted all at home;
66
Thy SYLVIA, Oh!”—She ſaid, and dropt the reft;
But my preſaging Heart too rightly guefs'd :
I filent ſtood, and ſpoke my Grief with Tears;
You know, my Heart was firmly link'd to her's.
MENALCA S.
I know, your Hearts are link'd in Friendſhip faſt;
Long may that mutual Bond of Friendſhip laft;
May HYMEN to you both propitious prove,
And Death but late unite the Knot of Love.
COLIN.
on feveral Occafions.
45
COLIN.
O ftop, MENALCAS, and my Lofs deplore;
The good, the faithful SYLVIA is no more!
That gloomy Morn, fhe, in my Abſence, dy'd ;
And rigid Death the laſt Farewel deny❜d.
Another Lofs I could content have borne ;
But muft the Lofs of SYLVIA always mourn.
My lovely SYLVIA was my fofteft Theme,
My Song by Day, by Night my pleaſing Dream:
But now in Sighs I fpend' the ling'ring Day ;
And, weeping, pafs the tardy Night away:
Nor does thy Friend indulge a needleſs Care;
My Lofs is great, and juſt is my Deſpair.
MENALCA S.
THY Lofs and Sorrows equally are great,
But Death's the Law of Nature, fix'd by Fate:
Our Flocks, our Herds, our All, precarious ftands;
And fall we muft, when Heav'n our Fall commands.
COLIN.
YET Flocks and Herds are with Reluctance fpar'd;
And what are Flocks and Herds, with her compar'd?
A
46
POEMS
A hungry Fox ftole ten of CUDDY's Lambs,
A lurching Mongrel kill'd their bleating Dams:
Say, did not CUDDY for his Lofs repine ?
But, ah! what Lofs was his, compar'd with mine?
MENAL CAS.
I have a Flute, which DAMON lately made ;
No Shepherd on a ſweeter ever play'd:
I tun'd it Yeſterday, and ſtraight a Throng
Of Nymphs and Swains ran crowding to my Song;
My lift'ning Ewes, a-while, forfook their Meat;
My tender Lambs, tho' hungry, ceas'd to bleat;
I'll tune again the ſoft harmonious. Lay;
Muſic, perhaps, may chafe thy Cares away.
COLIN.
MENALCAS, Mufic's for a lighter III;
Such Woes as mine would baffle all thy Skill.
Upon his Flute ALEXIS often plays,
And ſtrives to charm my Sorrows with his Lays;
Upon his Flute ALEXIS plays in vain :
His Lays, tho' charming, cannot charm my Pain.
The tuneful Birds rejoice on ev'ry Spray,
My wanton Lambkins in their Pafture play;
In
on feveral Occafions.
47
In vain the tuneful Birds rejoice, in vain
My wanton Lambkins ſport upon the Plain.
WITH chearful Green the ſpacious Fields are crown'd,
And beauteous Flow'rs adorn the painted Ground;
The fnowy Bloffoms on the Branches fhine,
A pleafing Scene to ev'ry Eye, but mine!
For neither chearful Green, that crowns the Field,
Nor fnowy Bloffoms, which the Branches yield,
Nor Flow'rs, that fpread the painted Meadows o'er,
Delight my Eyes, now SYLVIA is no more.
MENALCA S.
'Tis more than Time thy mournful Dirge to end ;
For, ſee, the whiſtling Ploughmen homeward tend;
Our fleecy Flocks ftand waiting round the Fold;
Damp feel the Dews, the ruffling Breezes cold;
The fetting Sun forfakes the blufhing Skies,
And hazy Fogs from marfhy Grounds ariſe :
Then fold thy Sheep, thy anxious Cares remove;
Nor weep on Earth, for her who fings above.
On
78
POEM S
On a GOOD CONSCIENCE.
HE folid Joys of human Kind
THE
Are thoſe that flow from Peace of Mind;
For who the Sweets of Life can taſte,
With Vice, and tim'rous Guilt, oppreft?
'Tis Virtue foftens all our Toils,
With Peace our Confcience crowns;
Gives Pleaſure, when our Fortune fmiles,
And Courage, when it frowns;
Calins ev'ry Trouble, makes the Soul ferene,
Smooths the contracted Brow, and chears the Heart
within.
WHILE guilty Minds, involv'd with Woe,
Anticipate the future Blow;
Which is (to make Damnation more complete).
The leffer Hell, in Paffage to the great;.
Bold and intrepid honeſt Men appear;
For, as they know no Evil, none they fear:
A glorious Shield of Virtue guards their Breaſt;
Arm'd with themſelves, they always walk at Reft.
THUS,
on feveral Occafions.
49
THUS, under burſting Clouds, and ſtormy Skies,
When Thunder roars, and Lightning flies,
Th' Imperial Eagles boldly rove,
Nor dread the fiery Bolt of Jove;
While meaner Birds in fecret creep below;
And trembling fear, and often feel the Blow.
On MUSIC.
ང.
M
USIC the coldeft Heart can warm,
The hardeſt melt, the fierceft charm;
Difarm the Savage of his Rage,
Diſpel our Cares, and Pains affuage;
With Joy it can our Souls inſpire,
And tune our Tempers to the Lyre;
Our Paffions, like the Notes, agree,
And ſtand ſubdu'd by Harmony.
This found the melancholy King,
When DAVID tun'd the trembling String:
Sweet MUSIC chas'd the fullen Spleen away,
And made his clouded Soul ferenely gay.
II.
50
POEM S
ኑ
II.
WHILE MUSIC breathes in martial Airs,
The Coward dares forget his Fears;
Or, if the Notes to Pity found,
Revenge and Envy ceaſe to wound :
The Pow'r of Music has been known,
To raiſe or tumble Cities down:
Thus Theban Turrets, Authors fay,
Were rais'd by Music's Magick Lay;
And antient Jericho's Heav'n-hated Wall,
To facred MUSIC ow'd its deftin'd Fall.
III.
NOR Mortals only Music love;
It chears celeftial Saints above:
Sweet Hallelujahs Angels fing
Around their great Etherial KING;
Ceafless they found the FATHER'S Praife,
The FATHER too approves their Lays;
For HE (as all Things) MUSIC made,.
And SERAPHIMs before Him play'd:
When over Horeb's Mount he came,
Array'd in Majeſty and Flame;
After the founding Trump, fublime, He rode;
The founding Trump proclaim'd th' approaching
GOD.
IV
on feveral Occafions.
51
IV.
MUSIC had Being, long before
The folemn Organ learnt to roar:
When MICHAEL, o'er the heav'nly Plain,
Advanc'd, to fight the rebel Train,
Loud Trumpets did his Wrath declare,
In Music, terrible to hear:
And when the Univerfe was made,
On golden Harps the Angels play'd:
And when it falls, (as fall it must)
MUSIC fhall penetrate the Duft;
The Trump ſhall found with the Archangel's Breath;
And, fweetly dreadful! wake the Dead from Death.
On RICHMOND PARK, and ROYAL
O
GARDENS.
F blissful Groves I fing, and flow'ry Plains:
Ye Sylvan Nymphs, affift my rural Strains.
Shall Windfor Foreſt gain a deathleſs Fame,
And grow immortal as the Poet's Name;
While
52
POEMS
While not a Bard, of all the tuneful Throng,
With thefe delightful Fields adorns his * Song?
Thy Gardens, Richmond, boaſt an equal Theme,
And only aſk an equal Mufe's Flame.
What tho' no Virgin Nymphs, of CYNTHIA'S Train,
With Belt and Quiver grace the verdant Plain ?
What tho' no fabled confecrated Floods
Flow o'er thy Fields, or murmur thro' thy Woods?
My Song thy real Beauties fhall purfue,
And paint the lovely Scenes, and paint 'em true;
A pleafing Tafk! Nor flight fhall be thy Praiſe,
If Royal CAROLINE accept my Lays.
DELIGHTED, often thro' the mazy Groves,
The Mufe, in penfive Contemplation, roves;
Or climbs the flow afcending + Hill, whofe Brow
Hangs o'er the filver Stream, which rolls below;
Where all around me fhining Profpects rife,
And various Scenes invite my gazing Eyes;
And, while I view one Object with Delight,
New pleafing Wonders charm the feafted Sight:
This was writ in the Year 1731; fince when, great Alterations
and Improvements have been made in the Gardens, and feveral Poems
publifh'd on the fame Subject.
† Richmond Hill,
+
Now
on feveral Occafions.
53
}
Now this allures, now that attracts it moſt;
And the firſt Beauty's in the ſecond loſt.
THUS, in a grateful Concert, may we hear
The Sounds at once furprize, and charm our Ear;
The trembling Notes, in hafty Fugues, ariſe;
And this advances, ere the former flies ;
All feem to be confus'd, yet all agree
To perfect the melodious Harmony.
BENEATH the Mount, with what majeſtic Pride
The Sire of Rivers rolls his filver Tide!
Let Poets fing of Hermus' golden Shore,
His amber Foam, and Sands of ſhining Ore:
Nor Tagus envy we, nor fruitful Nile,
Whoſe fatt'ning Floods enrich the thirſty Soil:
Happy BRITANNIA boaſts as fair a Stream,
As great in Bounties, and as great in Fame;
Since DENHAM's deathlefs Mufe has fung his Tide,
And India's Riches o'er his Surface glide.
OBSEQUIOUS River, when my Eyes furvey
Thy Waves, or Eaft, or Weft, purſue their Way
Now
54
M S
POE
Now fwiftly roll, to meet the briny Main;
At ftated Periods, now return again;
How vain the Schemes of Infidels appear!
How weak their Reas'nings, and the GOD how clear!
Say, Atheiſts, fince you own, by Nature's Laws,
There's no Effect produc'd without a Cauſe;
Why ſhould the reſtleſs Stream run to and fro,
And, with alternate Motion, ebb and flow;
Did not fome Being, of fuperior Force,
Rule the wild Waves, and regulate their Courfe?
HENCE lofty Windfor to the Sight appears;
And, high in Air, her pompous Turrets rears:
Wide, round her Domes, the fpacious Foreft fhines
Tho' brighter much in POPE's harmonious Lines:
Oh! would his tuneful Mufe my Breaft infpire,
With equal Warmth, with her fublimer Fire;
Then Richmond Hill renown'd in Verſe ſhould grow,
And Thames re-echo to the Song below;
A fecond Eden in my Page fhould ſhine,
And MILTON'S Paradife fubmit to mine.
OFT, loft in Thought, forgetful of my Way,
I, o'er the Park, thro' Wilds of Beauty ſtray;
I
Where
on feveral Occafions.
55
Where ſportive Nature wantons at her Will,
And laviſhes her Bloom, uncheck'd by Skill.
Old venerable Trees, majeftic, rife,
Sublime in Air, and brave the vaulted Skies;
Which, free from cruel Steel, or Lab'rer's Hand,
In peaceful Age, and hoary Honour ſtand.
Here, when AURORA firſt begins to dawn,
The wakeful Larks fpring mounting from the Lawn;
Pois'd by their Plumes, in lofty Flights they play,
With joyful Warblings hail th' approaching Day:
But, when the Sun difplays a purple Scene,
And drinks the pearly Dew, that deck'd the Green;
A thouſand tuneful Birds in Concert meet,
A thouſand tuneful Notes the Groves repeat;
And, when their Muſic ceaſes with the Day,
Sweet PHILOMELA chants her penfive Lay.
BUT, hark! I hear a louder Muſic found;
From Woods and Vales the various Notes rebound:
"Tis Albion's KING purfues the Royal Chace :
The nimble Stag fkims o'er th' unbending Grals:
The Way which Fear directs, he trembling tries ;
Nor knows where Fear directs, or where he flies:
D
A
56
POEMS
A Hundred diff'rent Sounds affail his Ears;
A Death, in ev'ry diff'rent Sound, he fears:
And now he faintly moves a flower Pace,
And cloſer now the Hounds purfue their Chace;
Till, in Deſpair, back on his Foes he turns;
Makes feeble Efforts with his branchy Horns;
Short is the Combat, foon he yields his Breath,
And gaſping falls, and trembling pants, in Death.
Now to a fofter Theme defcends my Mufe;
Thro' artful Walks her pleaſing Path purſues ;
Where lofty Elms, and conic Lindens rife,
Or where th' extenfive Terras charms her Eyes;
Where Elegance and noble Grandeur meet,
As the Ideas of its Miſtreſs, great,
Magnificently fair, majeſtically ſweet.
See, on its Margin, Fields of waving Corn;
Theſe bearded Crops, and Flow'rets this, adorn;
CERES and FLORA lovingly embrace,
And gay Varieties the Landſcape grace.
HENCE lead me, Mufes, thro' yon arched Grove,
Adorn'd with Sand below, and Leaves above;
Or
}
on feveral Occafions.
57
Or let me o'er the fpacious Oval trace,
Where verdant Carpets ſpread the lovely Place;
Where Trees in regular Confufion ftand,
And fylvan Beauties rife on ev'ry Hand :
Or bear me, Nymphs, to the fequefter'd Cell,
Where BOYLE and NEWTON, mighty Sages! dwell;
Whoſe Fame ſhall live, altho' the Grot decay,
Long as thofe facred Truths their Works display.
How fweetly pleafing is this cool Retreat,
When PHOEBUS blazes with meridian Heat!
In vain the fervid Beams around it play;
The rocky Roof repels the fcorching Ray ;
Securely guarded with a fylvan Scene,
In Nature's Liv'ry dreft, for ever green.
To vifit this, the curious Stranger roves,
With grateful Travel thro' a Wild of Groves;
And, tho' directed, oft miſtakes his Way,
Unknowing where the winding Mazes ftray;
Yet ftill his Feet the magic Paths purſue,
Charm'd, tho' bewilder'd, with the pleafing View.
NoT fo attractive lately fhone the Plain,
A gloomy Waſte, not worth the Mufe's Strain;
D 2
Where
58
POE MS
Where thorny Brakes the Traveller repell'd,
And Weeds and Thiſtles overſpread the Field;
Till Royal GEORGE, and heav'nly CAROLINE,
Bid Nature in harmonious Luftre fhine;
The facred Fiat thro' the Chaos rung,
And Symmetry from wild Diſorder fprung.
So, once, confus'd, the barb'rous Nations ftood;
Unpolish'd were their Minds, their Manners rude;
Till Rome her conqu'ring Eagles wide diſplay'd,
And bid the World reform The World obey'd.
How blefs'd the Man in theſe delightful Fields
New Pleaſures each indulgent Moment yields.
Let gayer Minds in Town purſue their Joys,
Exchanging Quietness for Crowds and Noiſe;
Confume the Night at Maſquerade or Play;
Or waſte, in bufy Idleneſs, the Day :
I envy not Augufta's pompous Piles,
Since rural Solitude more pleafing fmiles.
O Solitude! the Sage's chief Delight!
What Numbers can thy lovely Charms recite!
Hail, peaceful Nymph! thou eldeſt Thing on Earth!
Nay, like Eternity, thou hadst no Birth:
Рад
The
on feveral Occafions.
59
1
The Heav'ns alone can thy Commencement tell,
Ere MICHAEL fought, or peccant Angels fell;
Before the Skies with radiant Light were clad,
In awful Gloom, and venerable Shade,
}
The FATHER thee his fole Companion made.
When to Creation firſt his Thoughts inclin❜d,
And future Worlds were rifing in his Mind;
He fat with thee, and plann'd the mighty Scheme;
With thee adjuſted the ftupendous Frame;
Contriv'd how Globes, felf-balanc'd in the Air,
With reſtleſs Rounds fhould rule the circling Year;
How Orbs o'er Orbs in myftic Dance fhould roll,
What Laws ſupport, and regulate the Whole:
Nor art thou yet impair'd, celeftial Dame;
Thy Charms are ftill attractive, ſtill the fame;
With thee the Mind, abſtracted from the Crew,
May ſtudy Nature, and her Ends purfue;
With thee I hear the feather'd Warblers fing;
With thee furvey the Beauties of the Spring,
When Bloffoms, Leaves, and Fruits the Branches yield,
And Eden's Glory crowns the happy Field.
HERE first the Muſe (aufpicious was the Place !)
Rejoic'd to fee her Royal Guardian's Face:
D3
How
60
POEMS
How mild, yet how majeſtic, was her Look!
How fweetly condefcending all ſhe ſpoke !
On ev'ry pleafing Accent Wiſdom hung,
And Truth and Virtue dwelt upon her Tongue.
O! were I equal to the glorious Theme,
Then ſhould my Lays immortalize her Fame;
Or paint Great GEORGE in peaceful Laurels dreft,
With Albion's Safety lab'ring in his Breaſt;
Who (while contending Nations round him jar,
And Subjects Wealth fupports their Monarch's War)
Guards happy Britain, with his floating Tow'rs,
From purple Slaughter, and invading Pow'rs;
No plund'ring Armies rob our fruitful Plain;
But, blefs'd with Peace and Plenty, fmiles the Swain.
NOT fo he ſmiles upon the foreign Shores;
But ftarving walks thro' Nature's lavish Stores ;
Poor Peaſants with their rigid Burdens groan,
And till the Glebe for Harveſts not their own.
What, tho' their more propitious PHOEBUS ſhines
With warmer Rays, and chears the curling Vines ?
What, tho' rich Olives grace the fertile Soil,
And the hot Climate teems with fatt'ning Oil?
The hungry Farmer views his Crops in vain,
In vain the Vineyard tempts the thirsty Swain;
While
on feveral Occafions.
61
While their ſtern Tyrant's arbitrary Pow'r
Rifles the Plains, and ravages their Store:
Thy Sons, BRITANNIA, from fuch Evils free,
Enjoy the Sweets of Peace and Liberty;
A gracious Sov'reign fmiles upon the Throne,
And Heav'n confirms the happy Realm his own.
*************
AVARO and AMANDA.
A POEM, in FOUR CANTO'S,
Taken from the Spectator, Vol. I. NUMB. XI.
W
CANTO I.
HAT Ills from Want of Education flow,
From Avarice what cruel Scenes of Woe,
I mean to fing; except the tuneful Maid
Neglect my Numbers, and refuſe her Aid.
Say, Goddefs, firſt, what made the Youth explore
A foreign Clime, and quit his native Shore ?
Say too, how on the barb'rous Ifle he came ;
What mov'd the Kindneſs of the Negro Dame ?
What could provoke a faithleſs Youth to fell
A Friend, whofe only Crime was loving well?
D 4
Now
(2
POEM S
Now had AVARO twenty Winters pafs'd,
His blooming Features ev'ry Beauty grac'd;
In filver Rings, his looſely-flowing Hair
Hung o'er his Shoulders with a comely Air;
Robuft his Limbs, and daring was his Soul,
And Vigour crown'd the well-proportion'd Whole:
His graceful Charms the Ladies oft furvey'd,
And oft their Eyes an am'rous Signal made ♬
But never could the tender Paffion move,
The ftubborn Youth was ftill averfe to Love;
Yet, tho' his Breaft was Proof to CUPID's Dart,
A more ignoble God enflav'd his Heart.
No Myfteries of Faith diſturb'd his Head;
For Myſteries of Faith he ſeldom read;
That moral Law, which Nature had impreft,
He blotted from the Volume of his Breaft ;
Yet in his Mind his Father's Precepts bears,
Who often rung this Leffon in his Ears:
"Would you, my Son, to Happineſs aſpire,
"Know, Gold, alone can Happineſs acquire ;
"He that has Gold, is pow'rful as a King,
“Has Valour, Virtue, Wiſdom, ev'ry Thing!
"This
on feveral Occafions.
63
This to obtain, your utmoft Skill beſtow;
"And if you gain it, be not careful how :
"If in the Court, or Camp, you take Delight:
"Then dare to flatter there, or here to fight:
"Or, fhould the Merchant's Life your Fancy pleaſe,
"Be bold, and bravely venture on the Seas;
"Many by Merchandize have gain'd Renown,
"And made the Indies Wealth become their own."
The Youth imbib'd the Precepts of his Tongue,
Neglecting ev'ry Law of Right and Wrong;
Taught by his Sire to court deftructive Gain,
He burns to try his Fortune on the Main.
WHILE other Youths, by Wit or Pleaſure fway'd,
Frequente Play, the Ball, or Maſquerade;
AVARO, fi dious, in his Chamber ſtays,
Careless of halls, of Mafquerades, and Plays;
There adds, fubftracts, and, with unweary'd Pain,
Learns all the Rules of Int'reft, Lofs, and Gain.
NEXT, from an old Aftronomer, he tries
To learn the Planets Journey thro' the Skies;
With him, at Night, when Heav'n ferene appears,
He points the Quadrant at the ſhining Spheres ;
D 5
The
64
POEM S
The HYADES, and frozen Pole furveys,
Which guide the Sailor o'er the diftant Seas;
Then Maps and Models of our Globe prepares,
And carefully inſpects both Hemiſpheres ;
From East to Weft he views the fpacious Round,
Pleas'd with the modern World COLUMBUS found:
In Hope elate, the Youth impatient ftands,
And ſeems to graſp both Indies in his Hands.
This fees the Sire, and haftily provides
A Veffel, Proof againſt the Winds and Tides.
The Youth embarks, the foft propitious Gales
Arife, and foon expand the fwelling Sails;
The Ship glides fwiftly o'er the liquid Plain,
And NEPTUNE fmiles, and courts him on the Main.
Bur fee, how Mortals are the Sport of Fate!
How oft unhappy, ftriving to be great!
Ere CYNTHIA twice her monthly Race had run,
An Omen of the fatal Storm begun :
The murm'ring Wind ariſes by Degrees,
And rocks the Ship, and ſweeps the curling Seas;
Now louder, with impetuous Force it roars,
And fhoves the fwelling Surges to the Shores;
Till
on feveral Occafions.
65
Till rapid Rain, and Flakes of bick'ring Flame,
With dreadful Thunder vex th' etherial Frame.
Struck with Surprize, the tim'rous Merchant ſtands,
Nor knows what he forbids, or what commands:
Nor fafely back, nor can he forwards go;
But trembling waits, and fears the fatal Blow.
LONG Time the Sailors work againſt the Wind,
With fruitless Toil, to gain the Port affign'd;
Till Courage, Hope, and all Proviſions fail'd,
And Fear, Deſpair, and Want their Souls affail'd.
Forc'd by the Storm into a winding Bay,
Their joyful Eyes an Indian Ifle furvey;
When ſtraight they quit their Ship, and gain the Shore,
And for Recruits the favage Land explore.
ADJOINING to the dreary Beach, there ftood
Wild Shrubs and Trees, that form'd a gloomy Wood;
Where, cloſe obſcur'd, the crafty Natives lay,
And watch'd the wand'ring Crew, remote from Sea:
Then forth they rufh, and ftrait their Bows prepare ;
Too late the Sailors fee th' approaching War:
In vain the Brave engage, or Tim'rous fly;
The Tim'rous and the Brave, promifcuous die;
D 6
The
·66
'POEMS
The barb'rous Fields are ftain'd with purple Gore,
And dreadful Groanings echo to the Shore.
Our youthful Merchant 'fcapes, and flies alone;
His Fear impels, and Safety prompts him on;
Thro' duſky Woods he takes his trembling Flight;
The duíky Woods conceal him from their Sight,
Till in the devious Wilds, remote from Foes,
Then, on the Ground, he weeping vents his Woes;
Oft curs'd his hapless Fate, and often thought
On what the hoary Star-monger had taught;
How, at our Birth, as diff'rent Planets rule,
They form a Wit, or conftitute a Fool;
How, in the Maze of Life, we act, as they
Attract, retard, or force us in the Way.
And, as he thefe uncertain Cenfures made,
Againſt the Stars he, thus exclaiming, ſaid:
THE Planets fure fome noxious Pow'r difplay,
And rule my Life with arbitrary Sway;
Elfe I had ne'er forfook my native Home,
Nor in this baleful Defert met my Doom
And yet, when I reflect, I cannot fee,
How Globes infenfible fhould influence me!
I
on feveral Occafions.
67
I chufe my Actions; when the Choice is made,
I nor invoke, nor yet confult their Aid.
When Mortals act according to their Will,
Can Heav'n be call'd the Author of their Ill?
Too late I find, the Stars are not in Fault;
But 'tis that golden Wiſh my Sire has taught:
Enticing Gold, that damn'd deceiving Guide,
Induc'd me firſt to ftem the foaming Tide;
Fallacious Charm, that led me from Repofe,
Now leaves me in a Labyrinth of Woes.
So, when compacted Vapours, in the Night,
Skim o'er the Fields, with a delufive Light,
The injudicious Traveller ſurveys
Th' alluring Scene, and courts the glift'ring Blaze;
Till, tempted o'er a Rock's impending Brow,
He falls to fome tremendous Gulph below.
;
THUS the unhappy Youth laments his Fate,
Confcious of all the Ills that round him wait
Till fetting PHOEBUS leaves the bluſhing Sky,
And glimm'ring Stars a feeble Light ſupply :
The Shades of Night increaſe his anxious Care,
And add a greater Horror to Deſpair.
CANTO
68 POEMS
AAMAANAXXXXXX
A
CANTO II.
LL Night in Tears the penſive Merchant lay,
And often wiſh'd, and fear'd the coming Day;
Till, on the Hills, the rifing Sun diſplay'd
His golden Beams, and chas'd away the Shade:
Harmonious Birds falute his chearful Rays,
And hail the roſy Morn with joyful Lays;
While, ftretch'd upon the Ground, AVARO moans,
Anfw'ring their tuneful Songs with piercing Groans.
NoT diftant far from where the Youth was laid,
A purling Stream, in pleafing Murmurs, play'd;
And, by the Margin of the cryſtal Flood,
Two Rows of Trees in beauteous Order ſtood;
Whoſe Branches form'd a pendent Arch above,
Diffuſing gloomy Verdure o'er the Grove.
An Indian Princefs hither daily came,
Pleas'd with the grateful Shade, and cooling Stream:
She now was walking to her lov'd Retreat,
And heard the mourning Youth lament his Fate:
Fix'd
on feveral Occafions.
69
Fix'd in Amaze a-while fhe lift'ning ſtood;
Then ſwift approach'd him, ruſhing thro' the Wood.
Th' affrighted Merchant roſe with gazing Eyes,
And tim❜rous Looks, that teſtify'd Surprize :
Backward he ſtarts; the Dame, with equal Fears,
Recedes as faft, and wonders what appears;
Yet, bolder grown, fhe foon advanc'd again,
Smit with the Beauty of the Godlike Man :
His Dreſs, and fair Complexion, charm'd her Sight ;
Each glowing Feature gave her new Delight;
While Love and Pity both aroſe within,
And kindled in her Soul a Flame unfeen.
With equal Joy AVARO now furvey'd
The native Graces of the Negro Maid :
He view'd her Arms, with various Ribbands bound;]
Her downy Head, with painted Feathers crown'd;
With Bredes, and lucid Shells, in Circles ftrung,
Which fhone refulgent, as they round her hung.
As when, in fplendid Robes, a courtly Maid
Begins the Dance at Ball or Maſquerade ;
The Pearls and Di'monds ſhine with mingled Light,
And glitt❜ring Pendants blaze againſt the Sight.
So
70
POEM S
So fhone the beauteous Shells around her Waiſt,
And ſparkling Gems, that deck'd her jetty Breaſt;
All which AVARO's gazing Eyes purſue,
Charm'd with her lovely Shape, difclos'd to View:
Each Limb appears in juft Proportion made,
With Elegance thro' ev'ry Part diſplay'd:
And now his Cares diffolve, new Paffions move;
And Nature intimates, the Change is LovE.
NOT far remote, a cooling Grot was made,
In which the Virgin often fought a Shade:
Thick Shrubs, and fruitful Vines, around it grew;
And none, except herſelf, the Manfion knew.
To this obfcure Recefs the Royal Dame,
Rejoicing, with her lovely Captive came:
Then, from the Branches, with officious Hafte,
She plucks the Fruits, which yield a ſweet Repaſt :
That done, ſhe, with her Bow, explores the Wood;
Pierc'd with her Shaft, the Fowl refigns his Blood.
Then back the haftens to her cool Retreat,
And for AVARO drefs'd the grateful Meat:
To ſlake his Thirſt, ſhe next directs his Way,
Where cryſtal Streams in wild Meanders ftray,
Nor
on feveral Occafions.
71
Nor lets him there, expos'd to Foes, remain;
But to the Cave conducts him ſafe again.
So doats AMANDA on the Merchant, while
She fcorns the Lovers of her native Ifle:
For all the Heroes of her Country ftrove,
With Emulation, to attract her Love;
And, when they could the painted Fowls infnare,
Or pierce the favage Beaſt in ſylvan War,
The Skins and Feathers, Trophies of their Fame,
They gave for Preſents to the Royal Dame;
All which fhe to her lov'd AVARO brought,
And with them gayly deck'd his fhining Grot:
The ſpotted Panther here fhe hung; and there,
With Paws extended, frown'd the fhaggy Bear;
Here gaudy Plumes appear, in Luftre bright;
'There Shells and Pearls diffuſe a ſparkling Light.
As when, to grace fome Royal Prince's Hall,
The ſkilful Painter animates the Wall;
Here warlike Heroes frown in martial Arms,
There a foft Nymph diſplays her bluſhing Charms;
A pleafing Landſcape next invites our Eye,
And the Room glows with fweet Variety.
;
YET,
72
POEMS
YET, ftill to give her Lover more Delight,
(Left what he daily faw, fhould pall the Sight)
When SoL with Purple cloath'd the Weſtern Sky,
And Shades extended fhew'd the Ev'ning nigh,
She to fome verdant Grove the Youth convey'd,
Where Nightingales harmonious Mufic made:
Soft Flow'rets were their Couch; and, all around,
Diffuſive Sweets perfum'd the fragrant Ground.
There oft fhe would his fnowy Bofom bare,
Oft round her Fingers wind his filver Hair ;
Charm'd with the Contraft, which their Colours made,
More pleafing than the Tulip's Light and Shade.
Nor was the Youth infenfible; but foon
Repaid her Love by fhewing of his own:
Oft would his Bofom heave with ſpeaking Sighs;
Oft would he gaze, and languiſh with his Eyes:
Now on her panting Breaft his Head repoſe,.
To meet his Head her panting Breaſt aroſe;
While in her Soul ecftatic Raptures glow'd,
And her fond Arms believ'd they claſp'd a God.
So liv'd the happy Pair, obferv'd by none,
Till both had learnt a Language of their own;
:
In
on feveral Occafions.
73
In which the Youth, one Ev'ning in the Shade,
Beguiles the harmleſs unfufpicious Maid;
Leans on her Breaft, and, with a Kifs, betrays;
Then vents his fpecious Fraud in Words like thefe :
WITNESS, ye Gods, and all ye Blefs'd above,
(For ye can witneſs beft, how well I love)
If e'er among our blooming Nymphs, I knew
Such Pleaſures, as my Soul receives from you?
O dear AMANDA! could I but, with thee,
Once more my happy native Country ſee,
You ſhould not there in lonely Caves retreat,
Nor trace the burning Sands with naked Feet;
Your Limbs, which now the Sun and Wind invade,
Should neatly be in fofteft Silks array'd;
In gilded Coaches gayly fhould you ride,
By Horfes drawn, which, prancing Side by Side,
Neigh, foam, and charap the Bit with graceful Pride;
Our Time, in Pomp and Peace, fhould flide away,
And blooming Pleaſures crown the fmiling Day;
And when the ſetting Sun forfook the Skies,
Approaching Night ſhould but increaſe our Joys:
We would not on the chilling Ground embrace,
Nor Foes, as now, fhould interrupt our Peace;
But
74
POEMS
But both repofing on ſome eaſy Bed,
Soft, as the fleecy Down, that decks thy Head,
The ſportive God of Love ſhould round us play,
While we, in Raptures, pafs'd the Night away:
Then let us carefully, my Dear, explore
The Haven, where I first approach'd the Shore.
Perhaps we ſhall ſome floating Ship ſurvey,
Safe to conduct us o'er the watry Way:
Nor let the foaming Waves your Steps retard;.
I'll guard you o'er, and be a faithful Guard.
How oft, alas! is Innocence betray'd,
When Love invites, and Flatterers perfuade!
How could the Dame, a Stranger to Deceit,
Imagine fuch a heavenly Form a Cheat?
She paus'd, fhe figh'd; then, with a penfive Look,
Half loth, and half confenting, thus fhe fpoke:
ONCE has AVARO 'ſcap'd the raging Main :
Why would you tempt the fickle Seas again?
To feek new Dangers, when in Safety here,
Would but provoke the Deities you fear
Sometimes, I own, we've been furpriz'd by Foes,
Whofe nightly Walks have wak'd you from Repoſe:
Yet
on feveral Occafions.
75
Yet ftill I guard your facred Life fecure,
And always will
What can AMANDA more?
THUS faid, fhe clafp'd him in her loving Arms,
Embrac'd his Neck, and doated on his Charms :
And now both fhew their Paffions in their Look,
And now Connubial HYMEN both invoke ;
In fportive Joys they clos'd the genial Day,
While PHILOMELA fung the Nuptial Lay;
Till foon the Youth reclin'd upon her Breaft,
And golden Slumbers feal'd their Eyes to Reſt.
A A A A L A NAAM NAA
S
CANT o III.
OON as the Sun began to gild the Day,
And on the Hills emit a trembling Ray;
AMANDA, from her flow'ry Bed awoke;
Sad was her Heart, and difcompos'd her Look;
The briny Torrent flows adown her Cheeks,
While thus fhe to her dear AVARO ſpeaks:
O THOU, on whom my Life and Love depend,
If e'er AMANDA claim'd the Name of Friend;
If
76
POEMS
If e'er I gave thy troubled Mind Repofe,
Or hid thee, when purfu'd with furious Foes;
Explain this Dream, that terrifies my Breaſt;
The ſtrangeſt, Fear, or Fancy e'er impeſt!
METHOUGHT a God defcended from the Skies;
Celeſtial Beauty ſparkled in his Eyes;
Like Rays of PHOEBUS fhone his radiant Hair,
His Shape like thine, like thine his graceful Air;
A Robe was neatly girt about his Waiſt,
Fine as my lov'd AVARO's filken Veſt;
His fhining Lips upon my Breaſt he laid,
And ſoftly prefs'd my Hand, and ſmiling ſaid :
"ARISE, my Dear, my lov'd AMANDA rife;
"An eaſier Lodging waits thee in the Skies':
"I am defcended from the bleft Abodes,
"To bear thee hence to Heav'n among the Gods;
"No Enemies ſhall there diſturb thy Reft;
"There, with thy Lover, live for ever bleft."
THUS faid, he rais'd me from the dewy Plain,
And bore, or feem'd to bear me, o'er the Main:
4
But
en feveral Occafions.
77
But foon he led me to a diſtant Ifle,
Where Horrors reign, and Comforts never ſmile:
Thick Brakes and Brambles choak'd the dreary Coaſt,
The only Product, which the Land could boaſt;
Till a dejected, fervile Race aroſe,
With gloomy Sadneſs brooding on their Brows:
This Crowd, promifcuous, with inceffant Toil,
Or rooted up the Wood, or plow'd the Soil:
How each perform'd his Taſk, a Tyrant view'd;
And ſternly ſhook his Whip, and menac'd as he ſtood.
Sometimes to fhun the direful Laſh, they fled;
Th' infulting Lord purfu'd with greater Speed:
Sure not fo fearful fly the trembling Bears,
To fhun our Hunters Darts, and miffive Spears;
Sure not ſo ſwift our Hunters e'er purfu'd
The trembling Bears, when flying thro' the Wood;
As from the Tyrant's Wrath they ſwiftly run,
Or, as the Tyrant fwifter urg'd them on.
Each to his wonted Tafk he drove again,
And made me mix among the fervile Train;
Doom'd with the reſt to groan beneath the Yoke,
Alike I felt the dire correcting Stroke.
But, Oh! what added moſt to my Deſpair,
My Godlike Guide was falfe, and left me there
As
78
POE MS
As thus fhe fpake, confus'd her Looks appear'd;
For ftill her Soul the dreadful Viſion fear'd :
Deciding Reaſon from her Seat withdrew,
And Fancy painted all the Scene anew.
The Youth to chear the drooping Dame effay'd,
When ſtrait a Boar came rufhing thro' the Shade;
The craſhing Woods proclaim'd his rapid Force,
While two fleet Youths purfu'd the fylvan Courſe :
The Lovers ſtarted from their flow'ry Seats,
Surpriz'd; and each a diff'rent Way retreats.
As when fome Mufquet's Thunder has expell'd
Two loving Turtles from the verdant Field;
Both, diverfe, thro' the wide ethereal Plain
Fly ſwift; and, flying, fear their Mate is flain.
So parting, devious fled. th' affrighted Pair;
Such was AVARO's, fuch AMANDA's Fear.
The foaming Boar between 'em ſwiftly paſt,
The nimble Courfers urge the Chace as faſt
Till foon they pierce him with a mortal Wound;
He falls, and purple Gore diftains the Ground:
Then,
on feveral Occafions.
79
Then, from the favage War, they take their Way;
And to the Cave, triumphant, bear the Prey.
Soon as the ſportive Hunters left the Wood,
The loving Pair conceal'd no longer ſtood;
But trembling both forfook the duſky Shade,
Both trembling met upon the op'ning Glade:
Mute with Surprize a-while they ftood; the Man
Broke Silence firft, and thus his Tale began:
O dear AMANDA! foon we have furvey'd
This myftic Vifion of the Night difplay'd :
Thefe a.e the frowning Tyrant in thy Dream,
That chas'd the Slaves, and we their flying Game.
SOME Part, faid fhe, refembled this, I own;
And fome remains a Riddle yet unknown:
What meant that God, which ftill, methinks, I view?
That radiant Deity! fo much like You!
And what the Fields above, which he propos'd?
Say, if the Myſtery can be diſclos'd ?
To whom the Youth: Our active Fancy feems
For ever roving, roving moſt in Dreams:
E
For
80
POEM S
For then the Soul, difburden'd of her Load,
Soars high, and grows prophetic, like a God;
Minds Things when paft, as prefent to our View:
And, by Allufion, knows the future too.
Thus, when to Sleep your mufing Head reclin'd,
She kept our Ev'ning Converfe in her Mind;
Reflected on the Joys my Country yields,
Joys, fweet as thofe in yonder azure Fields;
Till, foaring higher, ftriving to difcern
Her hidden Fate, and future Fortune learn,
Heav'n fhew'd her fomething like this Morning Chace,
By trembling Slaves, who fled their Tyrant's Face;
Perhaps to warn us timely from our Bed;
For, O my dear AMANDA! had we ftay'd,
I had not liv'd to tell this myftic Tale,
Nor you, to hear the Secrets I reveal
But let us to my happy Country ſteer,
Nor longer wait impending Ruin here.
So fpake the Youth; and, with a gracious Look,
He feem'd to fanctify the Words he ſpoke.
Go, fhe reply'd; go where you are inclin'd;
Your faithful Lover will not ftay behind.
If
on feveral Occafions.
81
•
If o'er the Seas you ſhall attempt your Way,
The Seas fhall not compel me here to stay;
Nor will I fear the Surges of the Deep;
(For Surges oft, you fay, affail the Ship)
Calm and compos'd, intrepid, will I ſtand,
Till you conduct me to your native Land.
Or, if you would ſome other Clime purſue,
Then fhall fome other Climate pleaſe me too.
And when the happy deftin'd Land we meet,
Where Providence fhall fix our wand'ring Feet;
With joyful Servitude, I'll ftill attend
On you, my nuptial Lord, and dearest Friend.
Soon as AURORA fpreads her purple Ray,
When you awake to chace the nimble Prey,
I'll alſo rife, and, with an equal Art,
Diſplay the Net, or fpeed the pointed Dart;
Or fearch the Plains, and taſteful Herbs provide;
Or ftrip the Vines, and prefs their juicy Pride:
Each Ev'ning will I fondly deck your Bed
With ſweeteſt Flow'rets gather'd from the Mead;
And when, diffolv'd in downy Sleep, you lie,
I'll wake, and watch if Foes approach too nigh:
To guard your Life, all Hazards will I run;
And, for your Safety, facrifice my own.
E 2.
T.
82
POEMS
To whom the Youth: No Hazards fhall you run;
Nor, for my Safety, facrifice your own;
Nor yet at Ev'ning fondly deck my Bed
With ſweeteſt Flow'rets, gather'd from the Mead;
Nor fhall AMANDA tafteful Herbs explore;
Nor fhall AVARO chaſe the ſavage Boar:
A fofter Bed, than Flow'rs, fhall give you Reft;
A choicer Meat, than Fruits, indulge your Taſte,
Ten Thouſand Things my grateful Soul ſhall find,
To charm your Fancy, and delight your Mind;
I'll vary Love a hundred different Ways,
And inſtitute new Arts to make it pleaſe :
So fhall our future Race of Children fee
A conftant Proverb made of you
and me:
When British Youths fhall court the doubting Dame,
And want Expreffions equal to their Flame,
Then, ftrongly to atteft it, ſhall be ſaid,
"True as AVARO to the Indian Maid,"
To whom AMANDA, (paufing at the Name)
What meant AVARO by the doubting Dame?
Has any of your Britiſh Damfels made
A Doubt of what fuch godlike Being faid?
Or
on feveral Occafions.
83
Or is it cuſtomary to your Clime?
Has ever Youth committed fuch a Crime,
As bafe Ingratitude? Has any there
Deluded firft, and then forfook the Fair?
I cannot think, your Love will e'er decline,
Nor can my radiant Angel queſtion mine.
By yon bright Bears, which paint the rifing Day;
By thy bright Charms, as beautiful as they;
By
all our pleafing Hours of Love, I vow
To fhare your Fate thro' ev'ry Scene of Woe;
Content, with you, to yield my vital Breath;
For Life, without you, would but lengthen Death.
WITH ſuch ſweet Talk their Moments they beguile;
Both feem impatient for the deftin'd Ifle:
He daily vows, and daily is believ'd;
She daily hears, and daily is deceiv'd.
YLINYIKA ZAYE
F
CANTO IV.
Arewel, bright Goddefs of th' Idalian Grove;
Farewel, ye sportive Deities of Love!
No longer I your pleafing Joys rehearſe ;
A rougher Theme demands my penſive Verfe;
E 3
A
84
POEMS
;
A Scene of Woes remains to be diſplay'd,
Indulgent Love with Slavery repaid:
Ingratitude, and broken Vows, and Lies,
The mighty Ills that fpring from Avarice,
Provoke my Lays: Your Aid, ye Mufes, bring;
Affift my Tragic Numbers, while I fing.
Say, what enfu'd, when, on the briny Deep,
The watchful Dame beheld a floating Ship?
She call'd, and beckon'd to it from the Shore
Then to the Youth the grateful Tidings. bore;
And faid, I fomething fee like winged Trees.
(Strange to behold!) fly ſwiftly o'er the Seas ;
Their bulky Roots upon the Billows float:
Say, is not this the Ship, you long have fought?
Or I miſtake, or, by the Gods Command,
This comes to bear us to your native Land :
Then haften, ſee the Partner of your Heart,
With You, her Guide, is ready to depart;
My Father, Mother, Friends, I bid Adieu,
Friends, Father, Mother, not fo dear as You.
To whom the Youth, with fmiling Brow, reply'd :
Othou true Pattern of a faithful Bride!
Who
on feveral Occafions.
85
Who dar'ft thy Father, Mother, Friends refign;
And rifque thy own dear Life, to reſcue mine!
If I forget the Debt I owe to Thee,
May all the Gods forget their Care of Me.
In more Wild Defarts let me rove again;
Nor find a Friend, like Thee, to eafe my Pain!
There let the Vultures, Wolves, and Tigers tear
This Body, Thou haft kindly nouriſh'd here!
So faying, to the Beach he ſtraight deſcends:
And, by the Flag, difcerns the Crew his Friends:
And now his Heart exults within his Breaſt ;
His loving Mate an equal Joy confeſt;
She, with him, gladly ventures on the Main,
Unthinking of her future Toil and Pain.
So, to the Plough, the Heifer, yet unbroke,
Walks chearful on, nor dreads th' impending Yoke;
Till, in the Fields, urg'd with the piercing Goad,
She groans, and writhes, reluctant with her Load.
THE British Bark was to Barbadoes bound :
Th' expected Shore the Sailors quickly found;
E 4
Where,
86
OEM S
POE
Where, fafe from Danger, now the perjur'd Youth,
Falfe to his former Vows of facred Truth,
Reflecting, counts the Int'reft he had loft,
While Fate detain'd him on the Indian Coaſt :
The frugal Thoughts fupprefs his am'rous Flame,.
And prompt him to betray the faithful Dame.
Yet fcarce he can the curfed Fact purſue;
But heſitates at what he fain would do:
For, tho' his Av'rice moves him to the Ill,
His Gratitude within him ftruggles ftill;
And, 'twixt two Paffions, neither guides his Will.
As when two Scales, with equal Loads fufpend,
Sway to and fro; alternate both deſcend,
Till, undeclining, each aloft abides;
Nor this, nor that, the doubtful Weight decides.
So ftood the doubtful Youth a while; nor would
Forfake the Evil, nor purſue the Good;
Till, as the Sailors in the Haven ftay,
To purchaſe Slaves, the Planters croud the Key:
One aſks for what the Negro may be fold;
Then bids a Price, and fhews the tempting Gold :
Which
}
on feveral Occafions.
87
Which when AVARO views with greedy Eyes,
He foon refolves to gain th' alluring Prize;
Nor Oaths, nor Gratitude, can longer bind;
Her Fate he thus determines in his Mind:
"SUPPOSE I ſhould conduct this Indian o'er ;
"And thus, inftead of Gold, import a Moor-
"Would not my Sire, with ftern contracted Brows,
"Condemn my Choice, and curfe my nuptial Vows?
"Was it for this I learn'd the Merchant's Art?
Only to gain a doating Negro's Heart!
"Was it for this the raging Seas I croft?
"No; Gold induc'd me to the Indian Coast;
"And Gold is offer'd for this fimple Dame;
"Shall I refuſe it, or renounce my Flame?
"Let am'rous Fools their tire fome Joys renew,
“And doat on Love, while Int'reſt I purſue."
He added not; for now, intent on Gold,
And dead to all Remorfe, the Dame he fold.
AMANDA flood confounded with Surprize,
And filently reproach'd him with her Eyes:.
She often try'd to ſpeak, but when he try'd,
Her Heart fwell'd full, her Voice its Aid deny'd ;
ES
And,
88
POEM S
ཀ་
And, when ſhe made her fault'ring Tongue obey,
Theſe Words, commix'd with. Sighs, found out their
Way.
"Who can the myftic Ways of Fate explain?
* Am I awake, or do I dream again;
"Is this the fad Reward of all my Care?
"Was it for this I chear'd thee in Deſpair ?
“The Gods above (if any Gods there be)`
"Witneſs what I have done to fuccour thee!"
“Yet, if my Kindneſs can't thy Pity move,.
"Pity the Fruits of our unhappy Love:
"Oh ! let the Infant in my pregnant Womb,.
Excite thee to revoke my threaten'd Doom!
"Think how the future Slave, in Climes remote,.
"Shall curfe the treach'rous Sire, that him begot."
So fpake the mourning Dame,, but ſpake in vain ;
Th' obdurate Youth infults her with Difdain ;-
Not all her Kindnefs could his Pity move,.
Nor yet the Fruits of their unhappy Love.
But, as the Flames, which foften Wax, diſplay,
The fame warm Force to harden fordid Clay ;
That Motive which would melt another Heart,
More harden'd his, and made him act a double Vil-
lain's Part.
He,
on Several Occafions.
89
7
He, for the Child demands a larger Sum;
And fells it, while an Embryo in the Womb.
AND now he ſternly takes her by the Hand;
Then drags her on, reluctant, to the Land;
While, as the walks her diſmal Fate fhe moans,
The Rocks around her echo to her Groans:
"O baſe, ungrateful Youth! fhe loudly cries;
"O baſe, ungrateful Youth! the Shore replies:
"And canst thou, crucl, perjur'd Villain! leave
"Thy tender Infant too, an abject Slave,
"To toil, and groan, and bleed beneath the Rod ?
66
Fool, that I was, to think thou wert a God!
"Sure from fome favage Tiger art thou ſprung
"No! Tigers feed, and fawn upon their Young:
"But thou defpifeft all paternal Cares,
"The Fate of Infants, and their Mothers Pray'rs."
In vain fhe does her wretched State deplore;
Pleas'd with the Gold, he gladly quits the Shore;
The uffling Winds dilate the Sails, the Ship.
Divides the Waves, and fkims along the Deep..
Three Days the bellying Canvas gently fwells, .
Clear fhines the Sun, and friendly blow the Gales ;
Then
90
POEMS
Then frowning Clouds inveft the vaulted Sky,
And hollow Winds proclaim a Tempeſt nigh:
Fierce BOREAS loudly o'er the Ocean roars,
}
Smoke the white Waves, and found the adverfe Shores,
While, to increaſe the Horrors of the Main,
Defcends a Deluge of impetuous Rain.
The giddy Ship on circling Eddies rides,
Tofs'd, and retofs'd, the Sport of Winds and Tides.
Redoubled Peals of roaring Thunder roll,
And Flames, conflicting, flaſh from Pole to Pole,
While guilty Thoughts diftract AVARO's Soul.
Of Life defparing, tho' afraid to die,
One fatal Effort yet he means to try:
While all the bufy Crew, with panting Breath,
Were lab'ring to repel the liquid Death;
AVARO from the Stern the Boat divides,
And yields up to the Fury of the Tides:
Tofs'd on the boift'rous Wave, the Veffel flies,
Now finking low, now mounting to the Skies;
Till foon the Storm decreas'd, and, by Degrees,
Hufh'd were the Winds, and calm the ruffled Seas;
The Sailors fafely fteer their Courſe again,
And leave AVARO floating on the Main;
}
Who
"2
on feveral Occahons.`
91
Who landed quickly on a lonely Ifle,
Where human Feet ne'er print the baleful Soil ;
A dreary Wildernefs was all appear'd,
And howling Wolves the only Sound he heard ;
A thouſand Deaths he views before his Eyes,
A thouſand Guilt-created Fiends arife;
A conscious Hell within his Bofom burns,
And racks his tortur'd Soul, while thus he mourns:
"CURS'D be the Precepts of my felfifh Sire,
"Who bad me after fatal Gold afpire!
"Curs'd be myfelf, and doubly curs'd, who fold
"A faithful Friend, to gain that fatal Gold!
"O! could thefe gloomy Woods my Sin conceal
"Or in my Bofom quench this fiery Hell;
"Here would I pine my wretched Life away,
"Or to the hungry Savage fall a Prey
"But can the gloomy Woods conceal my Sin,
"Or cooling Shadows quench the Hell within?
"No; like fome Spirit banifh'd Heav'n, I find.
"Terrors in ev'ry Place, to rack my Mind;
"Tormenting confcious Plagues increaſe my Care,
"And guilty Thoughts indulge my juſt Deſpair
"01
92
POEMS
"O! where ſhall I that piercing Eye evade,
"That ſcans the Depths of Hell's tremendous Shade !"
So faying, ftraight he gave a hideous Glare,
With rolling Eyes, that witneſs'd ſtrong Deſpair :
Then drew his pointed Weapon from the Sheath,.
Confus'dly wild, and all his Thoughts on Death;
;
To pierce his trembling Heart he thrice effay'd,
And thrice his coward Arm deny'd its Aid:
Mean while a howling Wolf, with Hunger preft,
Leap'd on the Wretch, and feiz'd him by the Breaſt ; .
Tore out his Heart, and lick'd the purple Flood;
For Earth refus'd to drink the Villain's Blood.
too ooo oo 0 0 0 0 0 of 0 of 0 0 0 0
To a Young LADY, who had a CUPID.
given Her.
F
AIR Lady, take a ſpecial Care,
This pleafing Toy become no Snare ;
The fubtle God is full of Wiles,
And mifchieves moft, when moft he fmiles.
Beware to claſp him in your Arms,
Nor gaze too much
too much upon his Charms;
I
Left
on feveral Occafions.
Left in a borrow'd Shape he wound,
As once unhappy DIDO found;
For while fhe view'd his fmiling Look,
Her Heart receiv'd a fatal Stroke..
*****EXEEEEE
On the Hon. Mrs. HORNER's Travelling
for the Recovery of her Health.
C
LARISSA long has fought, in vain,.
Phyſicians Aid,. to eafe her Pain;
But now their Aid fhe feeks no more,..
Nor longer will their Drugs endure:
Spite of their Art, her Spirits fail,
Her Cheeks are turn'd a languid Pale ;.
Yet, tho' her mortal Part's decay'd,
Her nobler Virtue does not fade
Her Soul, inflexible to Ill,
In Piety advances ftill:
So Metals lie in chymic Fires;
And, while the groffer Part expires,.
The Flames refine the golden Ore,
And make it brighter than before.
SHE
94
POEMS
SHE now a warmer Clime explores,
To prove the Air of foreign Shores:
O may the temp'rate Breezes bring
Salubrious Med'cines on their Wing:
Thou, PHOEBUS, too, propitious fhine;
And (fince the Power of Phyfic's thine)
Send blooming Health on ev'ry Beam,
Difpel her Pains, and chear the Dame:-
Elſe muſt my melancholy Strain,.
In mournful E'egies, complain.
Ev'n now, too well, thefe Numbers fhow,.
My drooping Fancy's damp'd with Woe:
Yet, tho' my Verfe deferves no Praiſe,
Let no four Critic damn my Lays ;.
Since OVID's felf but faintly fung,
When only Grief infpir'd his Tongue..
******E****
A
XX
The ABSENT LOVE r.
LEXIS, walking in the Park,
Met CHLOE, juft before 'twas dark:
He afk'd a Kifs, nor fhe deny'd,.
I don't know what they did befide :
But,
on feveral Occafions.
95
But, as a Child, in Thought, chews o'er
The Sweatmeats which he eat before;
So in his Mind ALEXIS keeps
The dear Impreffion of her Lips:
He felt it all the foll'wing Day,
At Night indulg'd it at the Play.
One ling'ring Act he mufing ſtay'd,
But knew not what the Actors faid;
He thought the Park in Drury-Lane,
Believ'd the Nymph appear'd again.
He ſeems to view her fnowy Neck,
Her ruby Lip, and rofy Cheek,
Her graceful Smiles, and fparkling Eyes,
Her panting Bofom fall and rife:
And now he clafp'd her in his Arms,
('Twas all imaginary Charms)
When, rifing to the Height of Bliſs,
His Lips effay'd to take a Kiſs;
An Orange-wench trod on his Foot;
And ſcreaming, "Will you have fome Fruit ?"
Surpriz'd, he dropt the pleafing Theme,
And found his Joys a waking Dream;
He fwore, and wept, and kick'd the Wench,
Forgot his Hat, and left the Bench.
On
96
POEM's
On a Screen, work'd in Flowers by Her
Royal Highneſs ANNE, Princefs
of ORANGE.
I'
LLUSTRIOUS Nymph! whofe Art could raife:
This fkilful Monument of Praife,
Forgive the Bard, who ftrikes the Lyre;
Accept the Verfe, your Toils inſpire:
For, when your Labours ftrike my Eyes,
The voluntary Numbers rife.
Who can be filent, when they view.
This fair Creation, wrought by You?
Each Flow'r does with fuch Luftre fhine,
Such Beauties crown the gay Defign;
That Nature fix'd in Wonder ftands,
To fee fhe's rival'd by your Hands ;
And, jealous of your Art, diſplays
A Bluth, when the the Work ſurveys..
Yet this accompliſh'd Piece, we find,.
Shews a faint Image of your Mind;
The lovely Charms, and Graces here,,
But copy thofe, that centre there.-
To
on feveral Occafions.
·97
To His ROYAL HIGHNESS
The DUKE of CUMBERLAND,
E
Tw
On His BIRTH-DAY.
WELVE * times hath SOL his annual Race
begun,
Since Jove defcended from his radiant Throne:
Around the pendent Globe, the God purfu'd
His circling March, and human Actions view'd;
But griev'd that Virtue droop'd her languid Head,
While Vice from Clime to Clime contagious fpread';
Back, to his native Seat, he fternly flies ;
And fends an Edict thro' the ſpacious Skies,
To call th' Ethereal Pow'rs: Swift flew his Word;
Th' Ethereal Pow'rs, as fwift, attend their Lord..
Upon Olympus' Top the Synod met,
Where, high inthron'd, the thund'ring Monarch fat;.
And, with a Nod, that ſhook the Spheres, he fwore,
The Minor Gods fhould vifit Earth no more.
*This was writ, when the DUKE enter'd into the Twelfth Year of
his Age.
What
98
POEMS
What, muft your earthly Sons, MINERVA cry'd,
Explore their doubtful Way without a Guide ?
If PALLAS muſt no more to Mortals go,
Let PALLAS beg a Subftitute below,
Worthy to rule the World, whofe noble Mind
May copy out the Gods to human Kind.
She lowly bow'd; and Jove, conſenting, fmil'd;
Go, form, faid he, this new-imagin'd Child:
Collect the beſt Materials, where you will;
And let us fee, for once, MINERVA'S Skill.
He faid; fhe haftens o'er the bright Abodes,
Selecting each Perfection of the Gods:
From MARS fhe warlike Strength and Courage took;
But foften'd them with VENUS' graceful Look:
To thefe fhe added HERMES' Eloquence,
And crown'd it with her own fuperior Senſe:
Some of APOLLO's piercing Rays ſhe ſtole;
And, while the MUSES play'd, fhe form'd a Soul.
When thus compos'd the bright Ingredients lay,.
She nobly dreft them in Ethereal Clay;
JOVE touch'd the Maís with his enliv'ning Hand,
And vital Warmth infpir'd a CUMBERLAND.
To
on feveral Occafions.
99
H
To DE AT H.
An IRREGULAR ODE.
I.
AIL, formidable KING!
My Mufe thy dreadful Fame fhall fing.
Why should old HOMER's pompous Lays
Immortalize ACHILLES' Praife!
Or why ſhould ADDISON's harmonious Verfe
Our MARLBRO's nobler Deeds rehearſe?
Alas! no more theſe Heroes ſhine;
Their Pow'r is all fubdu'd by Thine.
Where are theſe mighty Leaders now,
Great POMPEY, CÆSAR, and Young AMMON too,
Who thought he drew immortal Breath?
Thefe bold ambitious Sons of MARS,
Who dy'd the Globe with bloody Wars,
Are vanquish'd all by thee, victorious DEATH!
II.
Ev'n while they liv'd, their Martial Hate
But firmer fix'd thy Throne;
Nor, tho' it haften'd others Fate,
Could it delay their own.
Nor
Um
100
POEM g
Nor didit thou want their Rage to kill;
Thy own can execute thy Will:
Whene'er thou doft exert thy Pow'r,
A Thouſand morbid Troops thy Call obey;
Sometimes thy wafting Plagues devour,
And ſweep whole Realms away.
Now with contagious Biles the City mourns,
And now the fcorching Fever burns,
Or trembling Quartan chills;
Of Heat and Cold the dire Extremes.
Now freeze, now fire the Blood with Flames,
Till various Torment kills.
III.
CONSUMPTIONS, and Rheumatic Pain,
And Apoplectic Fits, that rack the Brain;
Soul-panting Afthmas, Dropfy, and Catarrh,
Gout, Palfy, Lunacy, and black Deſpair;
Pangs, that neglected Lovers feel;
Corroding Jealouſy, their earthly Hell,
Which makes the injur'd Woman wild;
And pow'rful Spleen that gets the Man with Child ;
Phyficians, Surgeons, Bawds, and Whores, and Wine,
Are all obfequious Miniſters of Thine;
Nay,
on feveral Occafions.
101
Nay, and RELIGION too,
When Hypocrites their Intereft purſue,
Or frantic Zeal infpires,
It calls for Racks, and Wheels, and Fires:
Then all our myſtic Articles of Faith,
Inſtead of faving Life, become the Caufe of DEATH.
IV.
GREAT MONARCH! how fecure must be thy Crown,
When all theſe Things confpire to prop thy Throne !
Yet, in thy univerfal Reign,
Thou doft not uſe tyrannic Sway.
Whate'er the Weak and Tim'rous fay,
Who tremble at thy Frown;
Thou art propitious to our Pain,
And break'ft the groaning Pris'ner's Chain,
Which Tyranny put on.
In Thee the Lover quits his Care,
Nor longer courts the cruel Fair,
Her Coldnefs mourns no more:
In Thee Ambition ends its Race,
And finds at length the deftin'd Place,
It ne'er could find before:
The
102.
POEMS
¿
The Merchant too, who plows the Main,
In greedy Queft of Gain,
By Thee to happier Climes is brought,
Than thoſe his wild, infatiate Av'rice fought.
V.
PROPITIOUS Succourer of the Diftreft,
Who often, by the Dead, doft make the Living bleft!
How could profufive Heirs attend
Their Miſtreſs, Bottle, Ball and Play,
If timely Thou wert not their Friend,
To ſnatch the ſcraping Sire away?
How would dull Poets weary Time
With their infipid Rhyme,
And teaze and tire the Reader's Ears
With Party Feuds, and Paper Wars,
If Thou, great Critic! didft not uſe
Thy Pow'r, to point a Period for their Muſe?
The Bard, at thy decifive Will,
Difcards his mercenary Quill,
Then all his mighty Volumes lie
Hid in the peaceful Tomb of vaft Obſcurity.
VI.
on ſeveral Occafions.
103
VI.
I, like the reft, advance my Lays;
With uncouth Numbers, rumble forth a Song,
Sedately dull, to celebrate thy Praiſe ;
And lafh, and fpur the heavy lab'ring Mufe along:
But foon the fatal Time muſt come,
(Ordain'd by Heav'n's unerring Doom)
When Thou shalt cut the vital Thread,
And ſhove the verbal Embryos from my Head.
Then, fince I'm fure to meet my Fate,
How vain would Hope appear?
Since Fear cannot protract the Date,
How fooliſh 'twere to fear?
I'll ftrive, at leaft, to ftand prepar'd,
Thy Summons to obey;
Nor would I think thy Sentence hard,
Nor wifh, nor fear the Day;
But live in conſcious Peace, and die without Diſmay.
VII.
FALLACIOUS Reas'ners wrong Thee, when
They call thy Laws fevere.
Severe to whom? To wicked Men:
Then let the Wicked fear.
F
Thou
104
E
P O È M S
Thou judgeft all with equal Laws,
No venal Witnefs backs thy Cauſe,
No Bribes to Thee are known ;
If thy impartial Hand but ftrike,
The Prince and Peafant fall alike,
The Courtier and the Clown.
What tho' a-while the Beggar groans,
While Kings enjoy their gilded Thrones?
What are Diſtinctions, Pomp, and Regal Train,
And Honours, got with Care, and kept with Pain?
One friendly Stroke of Thine fets level all again.
All earthly Grandeur muſt decline ;
Nay, ev'n Great GEORGE's Pow'r fubmits to Thine;
But thy Dominion fhall endure,
Till PHOEBUS meafures Time no more:
Then all fhall be in dark Oblivion caft,
And ev'ry mortal Kingdom fall; but thine fhall fall
the laft.
}
On
on Several Occafions.
105
S
On Mrs. L-s.
UCH 'Sweetnefs and Goodneſs together combin'd;
So beauteous her Face, and fo bright is her Mind;
So loving, yet chafte; and ſo humble, yet fair;
So comely her Shape, and fo decent her Air;
So fkilful, that Nature's improv'd by her Art ;
So prudent her Head, and fo bounteous her Heart;
So wife without Pride, and fo modeftly neat ;
'Tis ftrange, this agreeable Creature's a Cheat!
For tho' fhe to Man, for a Mortal was giv'n,
Theſe Virtues betray her Extraction from Heav'n.
1979 FROTTON
TRUTH and FAL SHOOD.
A FABLE.
S
OON as the Iron Age on Earth began,
And Vice found eaſy Entrance into Man;
Forth from her Cave infernal Falfhood came;
Fulfhood, the Hate of Gods, of Men the Shame:
F 2
A filken
ง
106
OEM S
POE
A filken Robe fhe wore, of various Hue,
Its Colour changing with each diff'rent View:
Studious to cheat, and eager to beguile,
She mimick'd Truth, and ap'd her heav'nly Smile;
But mimick'd Truth in vain; the varying Veft,
To ev'ry fearching Eye, the Fiend confeft.
AT length fhe faw celeftial Truth appear:
Serene her Brow, and chearful was her Air;
Her filver Locks with fhining Fillets bound,
With Laurel Wreaths her peaceful Temples crown'd:
A Lilly Robe was girded round her Waiſt;
And, o'er her Arms, a radiant Mantle caft:
With decent Negligence, it hung behind;
And, loofely flowing, wanton'd in the Wind.
Thus Truth advanc'd, unknowing of Deceit;
And Falfhood, bowing low, began the Cheat:
HAIL, charming Maid, bright as the Morning Star,
Daughter of Jove, and Heav'n's peculiar Care!
'Tis thine to weigh the World in equal Scales,
And chide the conſcious Soul, when Vice prevails,
Difpenfing Juftice with impart al Hand,
The mightiest Pow'rs fubmit to thy Command:
4
Ev'n
on feveral Occafions.
107
མ་
Ev'n Gods themselves, tho' in their Actions free,
Confult, refolve, and act, as you decree:
Great Sov'reign Jove, the first Ethereal Name,
Advis'd with thee to form the heav'nly Frame:
As Truth approv'd, he bad the Fabric riſe,
And ſpread the azure Mantle of the Skies ;
Plac'd ev'ry Planet in its proper Sphere,
Nor rolls this Orb too wide, nor that too neár
But why thus walk we, mindless of our Eafe,
Expos'd beneath the Sun's meridian Blaze ?
Better retire, and fhun the fcorching Ray,
Till fanning Zephyrs cool our Ev'ning Way.
Hear how yon limpid Streams run murm'ring by,
And tuneful Birds their fylvan Notes apply;
See fragrant Shrubs along the Borders grow,
And waving Shades beneath the Poplar Bough;
All theſe invite us to the River's Side,
To bathe our Limbs, and fport within the Tide:
So cool the Stream, the flow'ry Bank fo fweet,
DIANA's Self might covet the Retreat :
Nor can a fhort Diverfion check your Hafte;
Freſh Strength will foon fucceed fuch welcome Reft:
As rapid Currents, held a-while at Bay,
With ſwifter Force purfue their liquid Way,
F 3
S.
108
1
POEM $
So fpake the Phantom; and, with friendly Look
Supporting what fhe faid, approach'd the Brook:
Truth follow'd, artlefs, unfufpicious Maid!
And, in an evil Hour, the Voice obey'd.
Both, at the cryſtal Stream arriv'd, unbound
Their diff'rent Robes; both caft them to the Ground:
The Fiend, upon the Margin, ling'ring ſtood;
The naked Goddeſs leapt into the Flood:
Sporting, fhe fwims the liquid Surface o'er,
Unmindful of the matchlefs Robe ſhe wore.
Not Falfhood foShe hafty feiz'd the Veft,
And with the beauteous Spoils herfelf fhe dreft:
'Then, wing'd with Joy, outflew the fwifteft Wind,
Her own infernal Robe fagleft behind.
Straight the afpires above her former State,
And gains Admittance to the Rich and Great:
Nay, fuch her daring Pride, that fome report,
When thus equipp'd, fhe boldly went to Court:
Their fpake and look'd with fuch a graceful Air,
Miſtaken Fame pronounc'd her wife and fair.
She fill'd the Wanton's Tongue with fpecious Names,
To deal in Wounds, and Deaths, in Darts, and Flames ;
I
He
on feveral Occafions
109
He prefac'd all his leud Attempts with Love;
And Fraud prevail'd, where Reafon could not move,
At length fhe mingled with the learned Throng,
And tun'd the Mufes mercenary Song.
In all the Labyrinths of Logic ſkill'd,
She taught the fubtle Reas'ner not to yield;
Inftructed how to puzzle each Diſpute,
And boldly baffle Men, tho' not confute.
;
Now, at the Bar, fhe play'd the Lawyer's Part
And fhap'd out Right and Wrong by Rules of Art;
Now, in the Senate, rais'd her pompous Tone;
Talk'd much of Public Good, but meant her own.
Oft to th' Olympian Field ſhe turn'd her Eyes,
And taught the Racers how to gain the Prize.
In Schools and Temples too fhe claim'd a Share,
While Falfhood's Self admir'd her Influence there.
DELUDED Truth obferv'd the Fraud too late,
Nor knew fhe to repair a Lofs fo great:
In vain her heav'nly Robes, fhe, fighing, ſeeks;
In vain the humid Pearls bedew her Checks;
In vain fhe tears the Laurel from her Hair,
While Nature feems to fympathize her Care:
F 4
i
The
}
110
POEMS
The glowing Flow'rs, that crown th' enamel'd Meads,
Weep fragrant Dews, and hang their drooping Heads;
The fylvan Choirs, as conſcious of her Pains,
Deplore her Lofs in melancholy Strains.
Thus, penfive and uncloath'd, upon the Shore
She ſtands, and fees the Robe, which Falfhood wore :
Detefted Sight! nor longer now fhe mourns;
But, Grief to Rage transform'd, with Anger burns:
Into the Stream, the hellish Robe ſhe tolt;
And fcorn'd a Habit, fo unlike the loft.
HENCE Truth now naked roves, as in Difgrace,
None, but the Wife and Virtuous, fee her Face:
From Cities far fhe modeftly retreats,
From bufy Scenes of Life, to peaceful Seats ;
Is chiefly found in lonely Fields and Cells,
Where Silence reigns, and Contemplation dwells..
Hence Falfhood cheats us in the fair Diſguiſe,
And feems Truth's Self to all unwary Eyes;
Triumphs and thrives, in Pow'r, and Wealth, and Fame;
And builds her Glory on her Rival's Name;
With Safety dares to flatter, fawn, and footh;
For who knows Flafhood, when array'd like Truth?
Proper
on feveral Occafions.
III
Proper Ingredients to make a Sceptic.
OULD you, my Friend, a finifh'd Sceptic
WOU
make,
To form his Nature, theſe Materials take;
A little Learning, twenty Grains of Senfe,
Join'd with a double Share of Ignorance;
Infuſe a little Wit into the Scull,
Which never fails to make a mighty Fool;
Two Drams of Faith; a Tun of Doubting next;
Let all be with the Dregs of Reafon mixt :
When, in his Mind, thefe jarring Seeds are fown,
He'll cenfure all Things, but approve of none.
On Two Young Ladies leaving the Country.
SAY, lovely Nymphs! who fly from rural Sweets,
To noify Crouds, thick Air, and finoky Streets,
Do Balls, or Plays, your graceful Steps invite?
Can Balls, or Plays, like Richmond Groves, delight?
F 5
No
L12
S
POEM
No tuneful PHILOMEL, in Town, complains,
To charm your lift'ning Ear with vary'd Strains;
No fragrant Gales refreſh the fick'ning Fields,
No chearful flow'ry Scenes the City yields:
But Miſts, and lambent Fogs, where-e'er you paſs,
Shall cloud the Graces that adorn your Face;
While thoſe bright Eyes, like fully'd Gems, appear,
Or Stars, juft glimm'ring thro' the duſky Air.
NOR will you only Change of Beauty find ;
Illufive Scenes will mock your penfive Mind:
In cloudless Mornings, when you've drank your Tea,
And read a Page in SHERLOCK, or in--GAY;
Perhaps your Thoughts, tranfported, here may rove,
And, to your Mind, prefent the bliſsful Grove :
You'll think to walk by filver Thames's Shore;
Or trace the verdant Mead, as heretofore;
When, at the Door, the rural Viſion flies,
Smoak, Coaches, Fops, and Carmen meet your Eyes:
Straight back you'll turn, vex'd with the fruitless Search;
Bid * ROBERT call a Chair, and go to Church.
* The Footman,
On
on feveral Occafions.
113
す
​On MITE S. To a LADY.
'Tis but by way of Simile.
D
EAR Madam, did you never gaze,
Thro' Optic-glaſs, on rotten Cheeſe?
There, Madam, did you ne'er perceive
A Crowd of Dwarfish Creatures live?
The little Things, elate with Pride,
Strut to and fro, from Side to Side:
In tiny Pomp, and pertly vain,
Lords of their pleafing Orb, they reign;
And, fill'd with harden'd Curds and Cream,
Think the whole Dairy made for them.
So Men, conceited Lords of all,
Walk proudly o'er this pendent Ball,
Fond of their little Spot below,
Nor greater Beings care to know ;
PRIOR.
But think, thofe Worlds, which deck the Skies,
Were only form'd to pleaſe their Eyes..
F 6
CHLOE'S
114
POEM S
'T
CHLOE'S
CONQUEST.
WAS by a purling Stream, beneath a Shade,
Young CHLOE, CUPID, and ALEXIS play'd:
LOVE'S Goddeſs, with her Doves, fat looking on;
And, fimiling, nodded to her wanton Son :
Her wanton Son his keeneft Arrow drew:
Swift, to the Swain, the pointed Weapon flew :
Inflexible to Love, the Shepherd ſtood,
Repell'd the Shaft, and mock'd the baffled God;
'Till CHLOE rais'd her Eyes with killing Art,
And ſhot him with a more pernicious Dart:
Your's is the Victory, ALEXIS cries;
Not CUPID'S Shaft has kill'd, but CHLOE's Eyes.
co to to to to to to 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0
Occafion'd by a Difpute with a LADY.
ORGIVE me, CHLOE, 'twas a Deed,
That from Ambition fprung;
FOR
I'll ne'er again preſume to plead
With your victorious Tongue.
II.
Such Wiſdom in your Words appears,
Such Mufic makes them pleaſe;
Mine loſe their Force, like Morning Stars
Before the Solar Rays.
III.
on feveral Occafions.
115
III.
Conquer'd by your fuperior Senfe,
I drop the wordy War,
Convinc'd, your pow'rful Eloquence.
Is ftrong, as you are fair..
IV.
Yet, tho' fubdu'd, my Fall is great,
Nor fhamefully I yield;
"Tis Honour to contend, tho' beat,,
When Angels take the Field..
$$$
To Mr. WORSDALE. Occafion'd by feeing
CELIA'S Picture unfinish'd.
Y
Writ extempore at Kensington.
ET, WORSDALE, yet, thou muſt exert thy Art,
To paint the matchlefs Virtues of her Heart:
'Tis not enough, that Wit and Beauty join;
But, in her Face, let Senfe and Judgment fhine
Let Godlike Bounty crown her gen'rous Soul,
And folid Wiſdom dignify the Whole:
;
So, in thy Piece, ſhall each Beholder fee
A finiſh'd CELIA Her, a KNELLER Thee.
On
116.
POEM S
On the QUEEN'S GROTTO, in
N°F
Richmond Gardens..
OW bluſh, CALYPSO, 'tis but juſt to yield,
That all your moffy Caves are here excell'd..
See how the Walls, in humble Form, advance,
With careless Pride, and fimple Elegance:
See Art and Nature ftrive with equal Grace,
And Fancy charm'd with what ſhe can't ſurpaſs.
Flow fwiftly, THAMES; and, flowing, ftill proclaim
This Building's Beauty, and the Builder's Fame;
Tell Indian Seas, thy NAIADS here have ſeen
The ſweeteſt Grotto, and the wifeft QUEEN;
Whoſe Royal Prefence blefs'd this humble Seat:
How ſmall the Mansion, and the Gueft how Great!
So Angels fat in Canaan's fweet Abodes,
So rural Shades were honour'd with the Gods.
Here may her Soul th' Almighty's Wonders trace,
Far as the Worthies, that adorn the Place;
Whofe awful Bufts around the Grot appear,
The brighteft Stars in Learning's Hemiſphere:
Their
:
on Several Occafions.
F17.
Their Fathers dimly view'd the dawning Ray;
Theſe rofe like Suns, and brought a Flood of Day..
But ceaſe, my Muſe, and caft thy wond'ring Eyes,
Where PHOEBUS' lofty* Domes majeſtic rife;
Whoſe tuneful Train have fung this Grotto's Praiſe,
Contending each, till each deferves the Bays.
O pardon me, ye learned Sons of Fame!
Who faintly, after you, attempt the Theme;
Nor think, I rival your poetic Fires ;
My QUEEN Commands, and Gratitude infpires.
And You, Imperial Foundrefs! deign to fmile,
Nor fcorn the leaft, the lateſt Mufe's Toil;
Who brings the tardy Off'ring of her Lays,
The first in Duty, tho' the laft in Praife.
* Eton and Westminster Schools.
To
118
POEM S
To the Author of a Poem on the Duke of
Lorrain's Arrival at the Britiſh Court.
I
S DENHAM'S nervous Muſe reviv'd again,
To hail the Regal Vifit of LORRAIN?
Or is it POPE's harmonious Voice we hear,
Or whofe majeſtic Numbers charm our Ear?
What modeſt Youth fears to expofe his Name,
When ev'ry Line ſo juſtly merits Fame?
LORRAIN may learn to rule of Britain's KING;
But British Bards may learn of Thee to fing.
Whoe'er thou art, theſe feeble Lays receive,
Tho' I this Tribute with Reluctance give;
For, when my Eye thy pompous Verſe ſurveys,
I read with Wonder, but with Envy praiſe..
So, when Britannia's Senators conteſt,
And jarring Feuds enrage the Patriot's Breaft ;:
If fome judicious Speech great WALPOLE makes,
Oppofing Parties praiſe him, while he ſpeaks ;
His Foes refign the long-difputed Cauſe;
And, ſpite of Malice, Envy gives Applauſe.
On
on feveral Occafions.
119
On FLORELLA's Birth-Day.
T
HE Queen of Love, and PALLAS once, 'tis faid,
Had both agreed to form a finifh'd Maid:
Upon a noted Day they flew to Earth,
A Day ſtill noted by FLORELLA's Birth:
Both Deities employ'd their utmoſt Care,
To make their darling Lady wife and fair :
This gave her Beauty, that a ſprightly Wit,
Which render'd Soul and Body juftly fit:
But MERCURY, that nimble winged Thief,
Who loves his Joke, as dearly as his Life,
Down from Olympus to his Sifters flew,
When juſt to Life their little Embryo grew ;
And pour'd a little Folly in her Breaſt ;
A little Folly leaven'd all the reft:
Hence 'tis, fhe's fometimes fprightly, fometimes dull;
And ſometimes witty, fometimes quite a Fool;
Scarce fooliſh now, nor witty, ſprightly neither
But fprightly, witty, fooliſh, all together.
To
↑
120
POEMS
To the Rev. Dr. Freind, on his quitting
Weſtminſter School.
I
F void of Art my languid Verſe appears,
Forgive, O FREIND, the Bard, who fings in Tears:
Rude are the Lays, which only Grief adorns,
And dull the Mufes, when APOLLO mourns;
When Science trembles o'er MINERVA's Shrine,
To fee her fav'rite Pricft his Charge refign.
Yet why fhould Grief debaſe his glorious Name,
Or blaſt the Bays his Merits juflly claim?
No venal View his noble Temper ſways;
He quits with Honour, what he kept with Praife.
As fome wife Leader, in ſucceſsful Wars,
Worn out with Age, and cover'd o'er with Scars,
Refigns the Poft, he bravely long ſuſtain'd,
Crown'd with the Palm, his former Valour gain'd:
So thou, paternal Sage, may'ft now repoſe;
Nor feek new Laurels, to adorn thy Brows;
Review thy Toils, and fee what poliſh'd Peers
Honour thy forming Hand, and ftudious Cares :
Let
on feveral Occafions.
I2I
Let learned CART'RET, elegant of Taſte,
Confefs the Mould, in which his Mind was caft:
Let HERVEY'S Mufe her Tutor's Worth proclaim,
And PELHAM's Royal Truft declare thy Fame;
PELHAM, in whofe capacious Soul we find
The Scholar, Stateſman, and the Patriot join'd,
Nor fhall the tender Plants, which round thee ftand,
E'er prove ungrateful to the Planter's Hand;
Water'd by Thee, their well fix'd Roots extend,
Their Branches flourish, and the Fruits afcend
While pleafing Hope with Expectation ſmiles,
To reap the future Product of thy Toils,
Intent to fee thy Pupils fhining forth,
Whofe Actions foon fhall better ſpeak thy Worth;
When in the Train of Senators they come,
Refin'd with all the Arts of Greece and Rome;
While in each At their prudent Counfels fhew
Their Mafter's Loyalty, and Learning too.
Thus have thy Precepts made thy Province fhine,
And ev❜n MINERVA's Athens yield to thine.
}
magen y may share
On
122
POEMS
On CELIA's Picture, drawn by Sir
W
Godfrey Kneller.
ITH ſuch a fapient Eye, and heav'nly Mind,
MINERVA taught her Arts to human Kind;
With fach attractive Charms, and graceful Air,
VENUS was judg'd the Queen of all the Fair:
Such Senfe and Beauty to the Painter ſhone,
He drew Two Goddeffes to finifh One.
On the Marriage of his Serene Highness
the Prince of Orange.
I
Lluftrious Prince! forgive the feeble Lay,
That now afpires to hail your Nuptial Day;
Nor fcorn a Mufe, the meaneft of the Nine,
Who brings her humble Off'ring to your Shrine.
And you, Imperial Nymph! whoſe lovely Face
Invites the Hero to your chaſte Embrace,
Vouchsafe a Spark of your celeftial Fire;
Harmonious Words, and pleafing Thoughts infpire,
Soft, as your Love, and tuneful as your Lyre:
So
on feveral Occafions.
123
So fhall my Numbers charm the lift'ning Ear,
And ev❜n the glad NASSAU delighted hear.
NASSAU has long enrich'd the Book of Fame,
And ANNA now adorns the noble Name.
Nations, who faw the Light of Orange riſe,
With aweful Splendor in the Belgian Skies ;
Shall foon behold it with new Luftre fhine,
Join'd to a glorious Star, of BRUNSWIC's Line.
So, where the flowing Sambre gently glides,
The Swain delights to view the beauteous Tides:
But, when his more extended Eye ſurveys
The fhining Torrent join the ſpacious Maefe;
Both Rivers, thus, with friendly Union flow,
And to the Sight ſuperior Beauty ſhow.
WHENE'ER the Gods a noble Race intend,
They fuit the Cauſes to the deftin'd End,
Nor yoke unequal Hearts in Nuptial Love:
JOVE's valiant Bird difdains the fearful Dove;
Great Minds, by native Sympathy, combine,
As golden Particles the clofeft join.
Paternal Virtues in their Bofom roll,
Ally'd in Love by Noblenefs of Soul:
Hence
124
POE
M S
Hence Thrones and Sceptres fhine neglected Things,
Hence Royal ANNE prefers NASSAU to Kings;
While Britons with united Hearts rejoice,
And willing Senators applaud the Choice,
To fee their KING (to Honour ever true)
Diſcharge the Debt to facred WILLIAM due;
Immortal WILLIAM! by whofe prudent Cares
We yet enjoy the Fruits of all our Wars;
Our Laws, Religion, Liberty, and Peace,
And ev❜n the Bleffings of the BRUNSWIC Race.
NOR Thou, illuftrious ORANGE! blufh to own,
Thy Honour, thus ally'd to Albion's Crown;
Bleft with a Princeſs, in whofe Form we trace
Her Father's Majefty, and Mother's Grace;
Bright Orbs of Pow'r, that, with propitious Ray,
Difpel our Clouds, and beautify our Day:
Not as the Comet, raging thro' the Air,
Infects the World with Peftilence and War;
But, like the Sun, their Beams of Goodneſs glow,
Infpiring Life, and chearing all below.
Such are the glorious SIRE, and gracious DAME,
From whence the beauteous Bride of ORANGE came.
And
on feveral Occafions.
125
And ſhall unerring Nature change her Kind?
What Lion e'er produc'd a tim'rous Hind?
The Royal Eagles Royal Eagles breed,
And Heroes from heroick Sires proceed:
Rome's Founder, thus, confefs'd his Race Divine;
Thus NASSAU copies the NASSOVIAN Line;
Thus ANNA'S noble Stream of Virtue flows,
High, as the Regal Spring, from whence it rofe.
Thrice happy Nymph, with ev'ry Grace ſupply'd!
Thrice happy Prince, with fuch a heav'nly Bride!
In whom fuperior Senfe with Judgment joins,
Her Beauty much, but more her Merit fhines.
How glorious! When fuch Worth adorns the Great,
We hear, we fee, admire, and imitate:
Virtue, in Them, attracts remoteft Eyes;
But in the vulgar Soul, unheeded lies.
As radiant PHOEBUS darts fuperior Light,
While ſmaller Planets fhun the watchful Sight.
ACCOMPLISH'D thus, let her Example fire,
The drooping Mufe, and wake the founding Lyre:
To aid Religion, be her chiefeſt Care,
(Heav'n juftly claims the Soul it made fo fair)
To
126
POEMS
1
To ftem the Torrent of licentious Rage,
And prop the Virtues of a finking Age;
Exalting Science to her antient Height,
To raiſe declining Arts, and make the Rude polite :
While great NASSAU, whofe native Glory warms,
Whene'er his Country calls him forth to Arms,
May fire the Belgians in the Field of MARS,
Confult their Peace, or animate their Wars;
Paint his Forefathers to their wond'ring Eye,
And teach 'em how to conquer, or to die;
Like him, who bravely dar'd to break their Chain,
Tho' held by all the Force and Fraud of Spain:
For injur❜d Liberty the Sword he draws,
Refolv❜d to gain, or periſh in the Cauſe;
And having long the doubtful Combat try'd,
Like CÆSAR vanquiſh'd, and like CÆSAR * dy'd ;
Tho' diff'rent far the Motives of their Mind ;
That fought to conquer, This to fave Mankind
Till, prais'd, lamented, envy'd, and admir'd,
The Hero, Patriot, and the Prince expir'd.
;
* King WILLIAM's Great-Grandfather, the Firſt great Affertor of the
Belgian Liberties, affaffinated at Delft.
O!
on feveral Occafions.
127
O! where did then the Guardian Angels hide?
Nor watch'd to turn the guilty Ball aſide;
When he, whom armed Hofts could not withſtand,
Now falls a Victim to one Villain's Hand!
BUT rife, ye Mufes, quit the penfive Lay :
Nor damp the Joys of this aufpicious Day.
Since yet the glorious Name of ORANGE ftands,
Since Royal ANNA feals the nuptial Bands;
Soon may Imperial ADOLPHS rife again,
Again new FRED'RICS thunder on the Main,
Rouzing the Martial Youth to War's Alarms,
(If proud Iberians fhine again in Arms)
To guard their Country from tyrannic Pow'r,
And be, what glorious WILLIAM was before.
NOR fhall the States invading Forces fear,
Ere pregnant Time the promis'd Heroes bear;
Nor want Allies their Freedom to defend,
Since BRUNSWIC reigns, and ALBION is their Friend.
As branching Oaks protect the rural Swain,
Secure from Summer Heat, and IVinter Rain;
G
So
128
POEMS
So fhall our Monarch, with paternal Aid,
His Regal Shelter o'er Batavia ſpread :
Long as the Sceptre fills his Royal Hand,
A true Palladium fhall infure the Land.
AND if the prefcient Muſes guide my Lay,
Or future Secrets PHOEBUS can diſplay ;
The Day ſhall ſhine diſtinguiſh'd from the reft,
That ANNA dignify'd, and HYMEN bleft
In which AUGUSTUS fortifies his Throne,
And plans a Scheme of Union for his Son;
Beſpeaks Allies for Princes yet to come,
New Friends to Britain, and new Foes to Rome.
PROCEED, Great MONARCH! new Allies to gain,
And with new Nuptial Leagues our Peace maintain :
So fhall thy beauteous Nymphs fecure with Charınş
That Safety, other Kings defend with Arms;
They VENUS like, could MARS himſelf furprize,
And awe ftern Tyrants with their conqu'ring Eyes.
VERSES
on feveral Occafions.
129
VERSES to the Author:
In IMITATION of
HORACE's ODE on PINDAR.
By a DIVINE.
Apply'd to the Marriage of his Highness
the Prince of Orange, with ANNE,
Princess Royal of Great-Britain.
HO hopes to rival MILTON's Flame,
WⓇ
With waxen Pinions fondly flies;
His Fall will give the Sea a Name,
While he attempts to reach the Skies.
MILTON is like a Flood, whofe Tide,
Swell'd with tempeftuous Deluge, roars,
Which from ſome lofty Mountain's Side
Refiftlefs foams, and knows no Shores.
G 2
With
!
130
POEM S
With facred Laurels juftly crown'd,
Whether, in bold, unfetter'd Strains,
His tow'ring Mufe the common Bound,
Superior to all Rhyme, difdains ;
Whether the Realms of endlefs Day
He fill with Wars, and rude Alarms;
Or fet, in terrible Array,
Seraphic Legions, clad in Arms.
Aloft, with all their Forefts, thrown
See Hills, from their Foundations raz'd!
See Angels hurl'd with Vengeance down,
When the MESSIAH'S Standard blaz'd!
Or leads he to connubial Bow'rs
The new-form'd Pair? The teeming Ground
Smiles with a Wilderness of Flow'rs,
Diffufing Gales of Fragrance round.
Lo! ADAM, with majestic Mien,
For Empire and Command defigi'd!
Confuminate Beauty crowns his Quern,
With Dignity and Sweetness join'd.
While
on feveral Occafions.
131
While he the charming Scene diſplays,
Where Innocence and Pleaſure reign'd;
Delighted with his facred Lays,
We hear it loft, and feel it gain'd
His Lays, inimitably fine,
With Ecſtaſy each Paffion move,
When loud they trumpet War divine,
Or foftly warble human Love.
OSTEPHEN! this Britannic Swan
Surmounts the Clounds with noble Flight,
While I, at Diſtance, only can
Admire him lift'ning to the Sight.
As the poor Bee, with endlefs Toil,
To fuck the Thyme, and blooming Rofe,
Skims over Richmond's fragrant Soil,
Thus I with pleafing Pain compoſe.
You, with a happy Genius bleft,
In bolder Strains fhall NASSAU fing,
When ANNA, by the Graces dreft,
He to the Nuptial Dome ſhall bring :
G 3
ANNA,
132
POEM S
ANNA, enrich'd with various Charms
By the indulgent Care of Heav'n;
Than whom, into his longing Arms,
No greater Treaſure can be giv'n.
Not, tho' with Riches of the Eaſt,
At His Command, the Ganges flow;
Tho', with full Empire, he poffefs'd
Whate'er Ambition wifh'd below.
Ye NEREIDS, with propitous Gales
The gilded Veſſel kindly aid;
Let CUPIDS fan the fwelling Sails,
And waft him to the Royal Maid.
* When THAMES, with floating Forefts crown'd,
LEANDER fafe arriv'd proclaims,
And of tumultuous Joy the Sound
Shall bid AUGUSTA rife in Flames;
Loud Thunder, burfting from her Tow'rs,
Shall fignalize the facred Day;
And Tranſport to the Belgic Shores,
For Bleffings which they lent, convey.
This was written before the Prince came to England.
Around
on feveral Occafions.
133
Around while Hymeneals ring,
My Voice to higheſt Pitch I'll raiſe;
Thrice happy, if I can but fing
An humble Ode to NASSAU's Praiſe.
You, foaring in heroic Verfe
By native Strength of Wing upborn,
His godlike Virtues fhall rehearſe,
And Beauties, which the Bride adorn.
He in your Lays, fhall finiſh'd riſe
For Council, or th' embattled Field;
Immortals the conteſted Prize
To her fuperior Charms fhall-yick.
Then, ravifh'd with prophetic Views,
Succeeding Glories fhall prefage;
And, from the Genial Bed, the Muſe
Raife Princes, to improve the Age.
Who, bravely prodigal of Blood,
Shall prove, that to fet free Mankind,
And conquer for the Public Good,
The Race of NASSAU was defign'd,
G 4
Thus
134
POEM S
Thus great ALCIDES (Poets feign)
By Labours gain'd the Seats above ;
Counties preferv'd, and Monfters flain,
Affert the genuiue Son of JovE.
The ANSWER.
HEN I, in feeble Verfe, effay'd
NASSAU and ANNA's Praife,
WHE
A Lyric Mufe flew o'er my Head,
And drop'd a Branch of Bays.
I would have fix'd it on my Brow;
But PHOEBUS faid, Forbear;
'Tis Vanity to touch the Bough,
And Sacrilege, to wear.
Give it the Bard, who boldly dares
Attempt the Roman Lyre ;
Who wifely checks, but not impairs
The tow'ring PINDAR'S Fire.
Thus, Sir, to you, in PHOEBUS' Name,
The Laurel Wreath I fend;
And, fince the God denies me Fame,
Am glad it crowns my Friend.
On
on feveral Occafions.
135
On Delia finging, and playing on Mufic.
W
I.
HEN DELIA tunes her vocal Song,
And ſtrikes the trembling Strings;
The lift'ning Audience round her throng,
Admiring, while the fings.
II.
BUT, when we view the fkilful Fair,
We're ftruck with more Surprize;
Before, the only pleas'd our Ear,
But now, inchants our Eyes.
III.
BEAUTY and Harmony combin'd,
Like fecret Charms betray;
Like Ghofts in magic Rings confin'd,
IVe cannot flir away.
IV.
So Birds, imprudent, fall to Ground,
When pleaſing Notes they hear,
Charm'd with the Piper's artful Sound,
Till taken in his Snare.
30
M
$
G 5
To
136
POEM S
To the Right Honourable WILLIAM
CLAYTON, Efq; (now Lord SUNDON)
on his being elected Reprefentative in
Parliament for Weſtminſter, without
Oppofition.
T
O You, great Steward of the Public Truſt,
True to your King, and to your Country juft!
No venal Bard his joyful Tribute brings,
Nor Envy fure can cenfure what he fings;
Since each impartial Tongue your Praiſe declares,
The Mufe but echoes, what the Poet hears.
SOME, by their Birth, to Senates lay their Claim,
Whofe Folly fhames the Seat, which honours them.
But You, whofe Merits mov'd the People's Voice,
Unanimous, to make fo wife a Choice,
With folid Senfe, and prudent Conduct fhew,
You grace the Senate, not the Senate You.
Where, in the Lift of Patriots, could we find
A founder Judgment, a fincerer Mind?
Or
1
on feveral Occafions.
137
Or where a jufter Hand, to poiſe the Scale
Of Kings Prerogative, and Public Weal?
Nor this you ftrive to fink, nor that extend?
Bigot to neither Side, to both a Friend.
So flow the Spirits thro' your vital Frame;
Nor yet this Member chill, nor that inflame..
TRUE to your Principles, you never ſtray
From Public Good, tho' Int'reft lead the Way:
For Public Good you ftill employ your Tongue;
And, rather than commit, you fuffer Wrong.
When South-Sea Waves o'erflow'd the British Plain,
And Members barter'd Honefty for Gain;
No Gain, no Place, nor Profit could controul
The ſtubborn Virtue of your ſteady Soul :
You firm to Honour, Truth, and Confcience ſtood,
Unfaſhionably juft, and obftinately good.
BUT why ſhould I in feeble Numbers tell
Thoſe Virtues, which your Actions paint ſo well?
For all the Actions of your Life proclaim
A Subject's loyal Love, a Patriot's Fame.
Your Care to keep the People's Int'rett fure,
Your Zeal to guard the Prince's Crown fecure,
*** 1720.
Make
138
POEM S
Make Prince and People both efpouſe your Cauſe ;
Witneſs their lateſt Choice, and loud Applauſe ;
When crouded Streets with Acclamations rung,
And CLAYTON's Praiſes dwelt on ev'ry Tongue;
Parties themſelves agreed your Worth to boast,
Or differ'd only, who fhould praife it moft;
While tima'rous Candidates the Teft declin'd,
And, to your nobler Brow, the Palm refign'd:
So fly the Stars before the rifing Sun;
And, from his brighter Beams withdraw their own.
PEPPERBIEZIE
To Mr. WINDER, (now Fellow) of
Corpus-Chrifti, Oxford; in Anfwer to
a Latin Epifile, which he fent me.
S
I.
OON as your partial Lays I faw,
I gueſs'd your crafty Views;
And thought you writ in Verfe, to draw
A Bill upon my Mufe.
II.
on feveral Occafions.
£39
II.
BUT, fince the Treafure you convey,
Comes from the Roman Mine;
Forgive me, if I can't repay
The Value of your Coin.
III.
WHILE on thy manly Lines I dwell,
Lines, that might POPE employ;
What ftrange Viciffitudes I feel
Of Sorrow, Love, and Joy?
IV.
Now Pleaſure charms my glowing Soul,
To hear thy pompous Song
In foft, majeſtic Numbers, roll,
Like FLACCUS, fweet and ſtrong.
V.
BUT quickly fympathizing Pain
Succeeds my fhort Delight,
To find thy moving, mournful Strain.
*
Deſcribe thy Lofs of Sight.
VI.
* Mr. WINDER was much afflicted with fore Eyes, when he fent the
Epiftle.
140
POEMS
VI.
I grieve to think, MACHAON's Art
Can give thee no Relief;
I weep, and wiſh my grateful Heart
Could cure, or ſhare, thy Grief..
VII.
No more to me Encomiums fend,
In fuch a learned Strain
;
But, if you'd compliment your Friend,
Preſent him half your Pain.
VIII.
TO PHOEBUS make thy Muſic foar,
To Him direct thy Lays;
Invoke his Aid, and healing Pow'r,
To purge the vifual Rays.
IX.
FOR, if your Lyre but ſtrike his Ear,
(The Lyre you lately ftrung)
The God of Verfe and Light muſt hear
A Suit fo fweetly fung.
A
on feveral Occahons.
141
A Deſcription of a JOURNEY
To Marlborough, Bath, Portſmouth, &c.
To the Right Honourable the Lord Viſcount
W
PALMERSTON.
HILE fome, my Lord, the Roman Coaſt
explore,
Survey the Fanes, and trace their Beauties o'er,
Studious of Arts, by which ingenious BOYLE,
Now draws the Plan, or now erects the Pile ;
More bounded in my Fancy, and my Purſe,
I, o'er domeftic Plains, purfue my Courfe;
And ev'ry pleaſing Object in the Way,
The Muſe ſhall fing, if you accept her Lay.
WHEN CANCER fiercely glow'd with PHOEBUS)
Heat,
And Clouds of Duft flew ev'n in Brentford-Street;
D'er Hunflow-Heath my early Courſe I ſteer,
For Robbers fam'd; but I no Robbers fear:
Let
142
POEM S
Let Gold, like Guilt, increaſe the Mifer's Grief;
A Poet's Purfe, like Virtue, dares a Thief.
Colebrook I quickly paſs, and foon my Eyes
Survey the Royal Tow'rs of Windſor riſe :
Charm'd with the Theme of POPE's harmonious Song,
I check my Steed, and flowly move along;
As ling'ring Mariners contract their Sails,
To feast on Odours of Arabian Gales.
But left, my Lord, your Patience fhould accufe
The dull Narration of a tedious Mufe,
I will not fing each Trifle that occur'd,
How much I eat, and drank, and whipp'd and ſpurr'd :
How oft my Palfry ftumbled in the Way,
Till * Hatford ends the Travel of the Day;
Where kind + MENALCAS, Partner of my Soul,
Revives me with his friendly, flowing Bowl;
Yet forces no intemp'rate Bumpers round,
Except when DELIA'S Health the Glaffes crown'd.
A thouſand Labours paft, we now run o'er,
What Scenes we acted, and what Toils we bore :
No Party Feuds, nor Politics we name;
The Joys of Friendſhip moftly were our Theme.
Warn'd
* A little Village, near Farringdon in Bucks.
† A Farmer, once the Author's Mafter, and ftill his Friend,
on feveral Occafions.
143
Warn'd by the Clock, we now retire to Reft,
Till rifing PHOEBUS ftreak'd the purple Eaſt.
Breakfaſt foon o'er, we trace the verdant Field,
Where ſharpen'd Scythes the lab'ring Mowers weild :
Straight Emulation glows in ev'ry Vein ;
I long to try the curvous Blade again.
As when, at Hockley-hole, old Gamefters view
Young Combatants their Martial Sports renew,
A youthful Vigour fires their antient Soul,
Nor former Wounds their Courage can controul ;
Again they mount the Stage, again they play,
Again they bear the noble Prize away:
So with Ambition burns my daring Breaſt;
I fnatch the Scythe, and with the Swains conteſt
Behind 'em cloſe, I rush the ſweeping Steel;
The vanquiſh'd Mowers foon confeſs my Skill.
Not long at this laborious Sport I ſtay ;
;
But, with my Friend, to * Charlton take my Way :
'Tis there, my Lord, induc'd by potent Ale,
Swains leave their Ploughs, and Threshers quit their
Flail :
Where the Author liv'd a Thresher.
Your
144
POEM S
*
Your Bounty foon provokes the Bells to ring
Clowns dance, Boys hollow, and hoarſe Coblers fing-
Not greater was the Joy in antient Greece,
When ÆSON's Son produc'd the Golden Fleece,
Than now appears in ev'ry Thresher's Breaſt,
Soon as your Gold fings Prologue to the Feaſt.
WHY fhould the Mufe recite our Bill of Fare,
And with a long Deſcription tire your Ear?
None can your gen'rous Treat with Want reproach;
All eat enough, and many drank too much:
Full twenty Threshers quaff around the Board;
All name their Toaft, and ev'ry one, my Lord.
No Cares, no Toils, no Troubles now appear;
For Troubles, Toils, and Cares are drown'd in Beer;
Till foon the chol'ric Fumes of Liquor riſe,
Fluſh in their Face, and ſparkle in their Eyes:
They now the ruftic Feats of Manhood boaſt,
Who beft could reap, or mow, or threſh the moſt :
Contention doubtful! All with Anger burn,
While each appears a Hero in his Turn:
Hard Words fucceed; fo far can Beer prevail,
That blows are menac'd evʼn without a Flail ;
*Money which his Lordfhip fent to treat the Threshers,
Till
on feveral Occafions.
145
Till thus our Landlord, rifing from his Chair,
Like prudent NESTOR, ftops impending War:
"WHAT Madnefs, Friends, what Madneſs can
(6 engage
"Your Minds to burn with this unfeemly Rage?
"For Shame, ftain not with Blood our grateful Chear;
"Defift from Blood — or elſe defift from Beer.
"Are theſe the only Thanks you give my Lord?
"And is it thus his Favours you reward?
"If no Reſpect you pay this chearful Feaſt,
"Yet pay the noble Founder fome, at leaſt
HE faid: Abafh'd the conſcious Heroes ftood,
Shook Hands, and thirfted more for Beer than Blood:
Another Glafs to TEMPLE's Health thy pour;
And praiſe their Liquor much, his Bounty more.
OFT as this Day returns, fhall Threshers claim
Some Hours of Reft facred to TEMPLE'S Name ;
Oft as this Day returns, fhall TEMPLE chear
The Threshers Hearts with Mutton, Beef, and Beer:
Hence,
* 30th of June, of which his Lordship treats the Threshers every
Year.
146
POEMS
Hence, when their Childrens Children fhall admire
This Holiday, and, whence deriv'd, inquire;
Some grateful Father, partial to my Fame,
Shall thus defcribe from whence, and how it came.
"HERE, Child, a Thresher liv'd in antient Days;
"Quaint Songs he fung, and pleafing Roundelays;
"A gracious QUEEN his Sonnets did commend;
"And fome great Lord, one TEMPLE, was his Friend:
"That Lord was pleas'd this Holiday to make,
"And feaft the Threshers, for that Thresher's Sake."
THUS fhall Tradition keep my Fame alive;
The Bard may die, the Thresher ftill furvive.
NEXT, over Pewsey's fertile Fields I hafte,
Fields with the bearded Crops of CERES grac'd!
While pleaſing Hopes my grateful Bofom chear;
But foon they vaniſh'd-*STANLEY was not here.
FROM hence the Mufe to filver Kennet flies,
On whoſe green Margin Hertford's Turrets rife.
Here
* Rev. Mr. Stanley, Rector of Pewsey, who first encouraged the
Author.
on feveral Occafions.
147
Here often round the verdant Plain I ſtray,
Where * THOMSON fung his bold, unfetter'd Lay;
Or climb the winding, mazy + Mountain's Brow
And, tho' I fwiftly walk, afcend but flow.
The fpiral Paths in gradual Circles lead,
Increaſe my Journey, and elude my Speed:
Yet, when at length I reach the lofty Height,
Towns, Vallies, Rivers, Meadows meet my Sight;
A thouſand grateful Objects round me ſmile,
Whofe various Beauties over-pay my Toil.
So
may you often ſee the ftudious Youth
Begin the long, laborious Search for TRUTH;
How flow his Progrefs, but how great his Pain!
How many mazy Problems vex his Brain.
Before he o'er the Hills of Science rife,
Where, far from vulgar Sight the Goddeſs lies!
Yet, there arriv'd, he ends the happy Chace ;
Reflects, with Pleaſure, on his glorious Race;
Sees the bright Nymph fo many Charins difplay,
As crown the Labours of the lengthen'd Way.
WITHIN
;
Mr. Thomson compos'd one of his Seafons here.
Marlborough Mount
A
148
POEM S
WITHIN the Bafis of the verdant Hill,
A beauteous Grot confeffes HERTFORD's Skill;
Who, with her lovely Nymphs, adorns the Place;
Gives ev'ry polifh'd Stone its proper Grace;
Now varies ruftic Mofs about the Cell;
Now fits the fhining Pearl, or purple Shell:
CALYPSO thus, attended with her Train,
With rural Palaces adorns the Plain ;
Nor with more Elegance her Grots appear,
Nor with more Beauty fhines th' Immortal Fair.
THE Mufe her Journey, next, to Bath purſues;
Bath, fix'd by Nature to delight the Muſe!
Where flow'ry Shrubs, and curling Vines unite;
Hills, Vales, and waving Woods attract the Sight;
A vary'd Scene! For Nature here diſplays
A thouſand lovely Charms, a thouſand Ways:
ALLEN attends, to drefs her beauteous Face,
With Handmaid Art improving ev'ry Grace;
Now forms the verdant Walk, or funny Glade,
Or pours the Waters o'er the fteep Cafcade;
Or now contracts 'em with judicious Skill,
And leads 'em gently murm'ring, down the Hill.
4
A
on feveral Occafions.
149
HİNK TRANY
A Son of ESCULAPIUS here I meet;
Polite his Manners, and his Temper fweet:
His fage Difcourfe, with ſoft perſuaſive Art,
Charm'd the pleas'd Ear, till it improv'd the Heart:
Bright Truth, and Virtue, were his lovely Theme
Which feem'd more lovely, when deſcribed by him.
;
VARIOUS Diverfions here employ the Fair;
To Dancing ſome, and fome to Play repair :
Not" MUSIDORA fo confumes her Days,
The Dame who bad me fing JEHOVAH's Praiſe:
Uncharm'd with all the flutt'ring Pomp of Pride,
Heav'n, and domeftic Care her Time divide:
In her own Breaft fhe feeks a calm Repofe,
And fhuns the crouded Rooms of Belles and Beaux ;
Where COQUETILLA oft her Eyes has roll'd,
Oft won a worthlefs Heart, and loft her Gold.
2
FROM Bath, I travel thro' the fultry Vale,
Till Sal'sb'ry Plains afford a cooling Gale:
Arcaaian
* Mrs. STANLEY, who defired the Author to write the Shunamite.
150.
POEMS
طورة
Arcadian Plains where PAN delights to dwell,
In verdant Beauties cannot theſe excel:
Theſe too, like them, might gain immortal Fame,
Refound with CORYDON and THYRSIS' Flame;
If, to his Mouth, the Shepherd would apply
His mellow Pipe, or vocal Mufic try:
But, to his Mouth, the Shepherd ne'er applies
His mellow Pipe, nor vocal Mufic tries:
Propt on his Staff, he indolently ftands;
His Hands fupport his Head, his Staff his Hands ;
Or, idly baſking in the funny Ray,
Supinely lazy, loiters Life away.
Here, as I paſs'd the Plains, (a lovely Scene,
Array'd in Nature's Liv'ry, gaily green!)
On ev'ry Side the wanton Lambkins play'd,
Whofe artless Bleatings rural Muſic made;
Too harsh, perhaps, to pleaſe politer Ears,
Yet much the fweeteft Tune the Farmer hears.
SOON as the Plains are ravifh'd from my Sight,
New diff'rent Profpects equally delight;
PEMBROKE's Turrets charm my gazing
Where
Eyes,
And awful Statues folemnly furprize :
Earl of PEMBROKE's Seat at Wilton,
Bards,
on feveral Occafions.
151
Bards, Sages, Heroes, Patriots, Princes ftand,
A mixt, majestic, venerable Band!
Here mighty HOMER, PHOEBUS' eldeſt Son,
Or fings, or feems to fing, in breathing Stone.
See Martial PHOCION filently perfuade,
And fmooth-tongu'd CICERO, in Marble, plead:
Here fhines great POMPEY, greater JULIUS there,
With daring BRUTUS, honeftly fevere :
Friendship, and Freedom in his Soul contend;
Forgive him, CESAR, if he wrong'd his Friend!
Tho' BRUTUS' Dagger pierc'd thy Bofom thro',
'Twas Liberty, not Malice, ftruck the Blow.
Unhappy BRUTUS, deftin'd to withſtand
Thy Friend's Ambition with a fatal Hand!
Unhappy CÆSAR, whofe Ambition mov’d
That fatal Hand to murder whom it lov'd!
Had'ft thou, like Britain's Monarch, frove to fave
Expiring Nations, not the World enſlave ;
Thy Laurels then had ſtill unblaſted ſtood,
Nor BRUTUS e'er been ftain'd with CESAR's Blood.
Nor far from hence, old Sarum's Ruins ftand,
High on a bleak and barren Tract of Land;
H
A Mount,
152
POEM S
A Mount, which once ſuſtain❜d a City's Weight,
And lofty Tow'rs adorn'd its aweful Height;
Till want of Water forc'd the thirsty Croud
To feek the Vale, where cryſtal Rivers flow'd.
There * POORE the firſt aufpicious Work began ;
First, for a Temple, drew the glorious Plan;
Then quickly makes the facred Columns riſe,
And bids the lofty Spire invade the Skies.
The prudent People too, with equal Hafte,
New Dwellings built, which far their old ſurpaſt :
Cautious of Thirst, they make the docile Tide,
In winding Currents, thro' the City glide :
In ev'ry Street the wanton NAIADS play,
To ev'ry Door their liquid Urns convey;
In which the lately-thirſty Peaſant fpies
At once the cooling Draught, and ſcaly Fries;
Scenes, which, before, the lofty Mount deny'd!
Hence let Ambition learn to check its Pride:
High Stations often bring a Weight of Cares;
True Happineſs is found in humble Spheres:
This uſeful Truth let Sarum's Glory ſhow,
Which faded when on high, but flouriſhes below.
Bishop POORE, who built the Cathedral.
!
I next
on feveral Occafions.
153
*
I next to BATHURST's rural Seat afcend,
BATHURST, my infant Mufe's gen'rous Friend!
And, as around his ſpacious Park I ſtray'd,
Charm'd with the Profpect, which the Fields difplay'd.
Mufing on Verfe, the willing Numbers came,
My Song began, and CLARENDON my Theme.
What ſweeter Subject could I wiſh to chufe?
What Scenes more lovely can delight a Mufe?
See, FLORA paints the Ground with vary'd Dyes,
And fragrant Shrubs with Odours fill the Skies!
Here curling Vines their luscious Sweets difclofe,
There fair POMONA loads the blufhing Boughs:
See, fruitful CERES Crowns the Vales with Corn,
And fleecy Flocks the verdant Hills adorn!
Here waving Trees project a cooling Shade,
Where BATHURST oft converfes with the Dead;
Reads over what the antient Sages wrote;
Nor only reads, but acts as Sages taught;
Improves the preſent Hour that Fortune gives;
Nor trufts To-morrow, but To-day he lives.
H 2
CLARENDON Park.
As
?
154
POE MS
As thus my carelefs Lay, unlabour'd, flows,
*
Before my Eyes a Pile of Ruins roſe;
Whoſe rugged Walls, like native Rock-work, fhone;
For Time had turn'd the Cement into Stone.
Our Second HENRY here, if Fame be true,
Meaſur'd the Prince's Right, and People's Due:
Made Laws to bound the Priefts and Barons Claim
Nor ev'n thofe Laws did haughty BECKET blame;
BECKET! true Tyrant of the Roman State,
Curs'd with Religion juft enough to hate;
Whoſe ſtern, ambitious Zeal his King defy'd,
And damn'd all thofe, who dar'd oppofe his Pride.
O Thou Supreme! whofe Mercy ever ſhone
The beſt, the brighteſt Jewel in thy Crown!
Never let me fuch cruel Faith approve,
Which bids me hate, when Heav'n commands to love;
Let Chriſtian Charity incline my Mind
To wifh the Happineſs of all Mankind!
In focial Friendſhip always let me live,
Sow to be angry, eaſy to forgive!
PAULTONS
*King-Nanor, where the Conftitutions of CLARENDON were made,
Sce CAMDEN of Wiltshire.
on feveral Occafions.
153
PAULTONS affords me next a kind Retreat,
Where crouding Joys my grateful Heart dilate;
To ſee the Friend, who firſt my Lays approv'd,
Who loves the Mufe, and by her is belov'd;
Who taught her tender Pinions how to fly,
Told when the crept too low, or foar'd too high.
OSTANLEY! if, forgetful of thy Love,
I e'er to Gratitude rebellious prove;
Still may I want a Friend, but never find;
May FORTUNE, PHOEBUS, STANLEY, prove unkind.
HERE often thro' the gloomy Woods I rove,
Pleas'd with the filent Horror of the Grove.
And now the Lawn, and winding Walks delight;
And now the Memphian Turret charms my Sight:
Here conic Firs in graceful Order ſtand ;
Tall Cedars there, the Growth of Syrian Land.
Lead me, ye facred DRYADS! lead me thro'
Your fylvan Scenes, where future Navies grow;
Where lofty Oaks their branching Arms extend,
And tow'ring Pines to kifs the Clouds afcend;
Where op'ning Glades admit the funny Ray,
Or venerable Groves exclude the Day.
II 3
There
156
!
POEMS
There let me Knaves, and Fools, and Fops defpife,
And think of Actions worthy of the Wife.
My Friend and me, Southampton next receives;
Southampton, wafh'd with THETIS' filver Waves.
Upon whofe fandy Margin * Bevis rears
His Head, on which a ftately Dome appears;
Where British SCIPIO, crown'd with Martial Bays,
In Solitude enjoys his antient Days:
Yet, ftill inclin'd to conquer, wages here,
With ftubborn Woods and Wilds innoxious War;
Subdues the native Rudeness of the Soil,
And makes the barren Sand with Verdure fmile ;
Bends the young Plant obedient to his Will,
Or thro' the Valley leads the cryſtal Rill;
Sublimes the Mount, or bids the Mole fubfide,
To ftretch the Profpect o'er the lucid Tide:
The Foils of Art illuftrate his Defign;
And make the Di'mond NATURE brighter fhine.
CHARM'D
*Mount Bevis, Seat of the Right Honourable the Earl of Peterborough,
who was then living.
on feveral Occafions.
157
CHARM'D with the Beauties of the filver Sea,
We board a Ship, and ſkim the watry Way:
Blown with propitious Gales, we quickly view
BRITANNIA'S Strength, her Guard, and Glory too;
Where* GEORGE's dreadful Eagles waiting food,
To bear his fatal Thunder o'er the Flood.
The wondrous Scene delights my gazing Eyes,
At once imparting Pleafure and Surprize:
Intrepid Sailors, fwarming in the Sky,
Intent on Bufinefs, diff'rent Labours try:
Some ftride the Yard, or tow'ring Maſts afcend 1;
Some on the Ropes, in airy Crouds, depend;
Thick as the Infects, round the Poplar, play,
When PHOEBUS gilds 'em with a Weſtern Ray.
BUT unexpected Dangers oft deceive
The daring Man, who tempts the foamy Wave:
While on the Fleet we all delighted gaze,
The fudden Winds arife, and fweep the Seas ;
With rapid Force they fly, and from the Ship,
Disjoin the Boat, and drive it o'er the Deep:
H 4
SPITHEAD.
Our
158
POEM M S
Our cautious Pilot quickly fhifts the Sails,
Reverts his Courſe againſt the furious Gales.
OCHLOE! then what ruthlefs Pains diftreft,
Thy dizzy Head, and rack'd thy tender Breaſt!
How often did the Bard thy Fate bemoan!
How often did he wish thy Pains his own!
How did the TRITONS, mov'd with Pity, gaze
On thy fair Face, diſtorted twenty Ways!
Yet, tho' diftorted, ftill thy Features ſhow
Bright in Diftrefs, and innocent in Woe,
So VENUS oft her filver Light diſplays,
Thro' Ev'ning Mifts, that rife to cloud her Rays,
BUT NEPTUNE now, who pity'd CHLOE's Pain,
Returns the Boat; we ſteer our Courſe again.
At Six, we fafely land at Portfmouth Key,
And foon forget the Dangers of the Sea.
Straight to fome hofpitable Inn we hafte,
Revive our Spirits with a ſweet Repaſt :
The finiling Glafs, with rofy Liquor crown'd,
Sacred to friendly Healths, goes chearful round ;
While Time, in mirthful Converfe, fweetly flows,
Till gentle Sleep invites us to Repoſe.
THE
on feveral Occafions.
159
THE Morning come, we to the Wharfs repair,
Survey the mighty Magazines of War:
Tremendous Rows of Cannon meet our Eyes;
And Iron Deaths, in maffy Mountains rife:
Store-houſe of MARS! where, rang'd in Order, lay
Ten thouſand Thunders for fome fatal Day.
DEPARTING hence, the Dock we travel round,
Where lab'ring Shipwrights rattling Axes found:
Some bend the ftubborn Planks, while others rear.
The lofty Maft, or crooked Timber ſquare;
Some ply their Engines, fome direct the Toil,
And carefully inſpect the mighty Pile;
See ev'ry Chink fecurely ftopt, before
The winged Caſtle ventures from the Shore.
So, when the youthful Crane intends to fly
Her first long Journey thro' the ſpacious Sky;
Before the rears herſelf fublime in Air,
She ranges ev'ry Plume with prudent Care ;
Tries if her Pinions can her Flight fuftain ;
Then ſprings away, and foars above the Main.
H5
BUT
160
POEMS
BUT fee! the fmoking, fiery Forge appears;
Vulcanian Sounds furprize our lift'ning Ears:
See! bufy Smiths around their Anvils ſweat;
Their brawny Arms the glowing Anchor beat;.
Alternately the chiming Hammers fall,
And loud Notes echo thro' the footy Hall..
Such, haply, on the founding Anvil rung,
When firſt the Harp melodious TUBAL ftrung:
AS TUBAL CAIN the ductile Metal wrought,
And VULCAN's heav'nly Art to Mortals taught;
The Brother, pleas'd to hear his Hammers chime,
Soon harmoniz'd their Notes to proper Time:
Man's Bofom then fonorous Organ warm'd,
The fofter Lyre his gloomy Sorrows charm'd;
While Tyrants Hearts unufual Pity found,
And favage Tempers foften'd with the Sound.
'Twas now the Time, when PHOвBUS' piercing
Ray
Shot down direct, and meaſur'd half the Day:
*
A brave Commander luckily we meet,
Who courteouſly invites us to the Fleet:
• Captain REDDISH, Commander of the Amelia.
A Table
י
on feveral Occafions.
161
A Table elegantly ſpread we found,
And loyal Healths the Captain puſhes round;
AUGUSTUS firſt, and all the Royal Line,
Give ſweeter Flavour to the ſparkling Wine;
WAGER, and NORRIS, next, who boldly reign,
In floating Caſtles, Monarchs of the Main.
But now again our winged Sails we ſpread,
Again we vifit Paulton's fylvan Shade;
Where, parting from my Friend, I mount my Steed,
And, o'er the Wilds of Wellow, urge his Speed:
Wilds, which were lately fterile, as the Coaſt,
Where patient CATO march'd his fainting Hoft!
Nor could the Swain explore a cooling Shade,
When fervid PHOEBUS burnt his glowing Head;
Till CHANDOIS bad the dreary Defart finile
With verdant Groves, and beautify'd the Soil:
He ſaid; ten thouſand Trees adorn'd the Plain,
Ten thouſand Shades, delightful to the Swain,
HENCE, o'er the Plains, and fruitful Fields I pafs,
Full forty Miles, till Witney ends iny
Race.
2
I
162
M S
POE
I vifit here an elegant * Divine,
In whom the Scholar, Friend, and Critic join ;
Who freely judges of an Author's Thoughts,
Improves his Beauties, and corrects his Faults;
Severely kind, and candidly fevere;
Polite, as Courtiers; and, as Truth, fincere;
Who, in MINERVA's Temple, taught our Youth
The Path to Wiſdom, Virtue, Honour, Truth;
Till having, with a gen'rous Mind, beſtow'd
The Flow'r of all his Years in doing Good;
Fatigu'd with Labours, and with Age decay'd,
Retires, with Honour, to the rural Shade.
So, when the Prince of Rivers, fruitful Nile,
Has flow'd, and fatten'd all the Memphian Soil,
Spent all the Riches, that his Waves contain,
Back to his Banks, he draws his humid Train.
I pay my Off'rings next at PHOEBUS' Shrine,
Oxford, the Seat of all the tuneful Nine.
Forgive me, God of Verfe, who daring greet
Thy facred Temples with unhallow'd Feet;
As
*Rev. Dr. FREIND,
on feveral Occafions.
163
As pious Muffelmen to Mecca roam,
;
Zealous to worſhip at their Prophet's Tomb;
So comes the Poet to thy rev'rend Fanes,
Invoking thee to aid his humble Strains.
O! might a Spark of thy celeftial Flame
But raiſe my Numbers equal to my Theme,
ALFRED immortal in my Page ſhould ſhine
ALFRED, the Monarch, Hero, and Divine.
Who, having bravely all his Foes o'erthrown,
Advanc'd thy Kingdom, and confirm'd his own ;
Water'd his Realm with the Pierian Spring,
Recall'd the baniſh'd Arts, and bad the Muſes fing.
Then ſhould my Numbers found with * WICKHAM'S
Praife;
Nor leſs ſhould † FoxE's. Fame adorn my Lays,
Whofe pious Care the decent Fabric rear'd,
Which kindly fhelter'd the unworthy Bard;
Nor the unworthy Bard fhould leave unpaid.
The grateful Debt, contracted while he ſtay'd:
Thy Favours, chiefly, WINDER, fhould be known,
In lafting Numbers, tuneful as thy own.
Thee, BODLEY, would I fing; who can refuſe
A Verfe to BODLEY, Patron of the Mufe?
Founder of New College.
Whofe
+ Founder of Corpus-Chrifti College, where the Author was kindly en-
tertain'd,
164
S
POEM
Whoſe letter'd Bounty to the World declares
The treafur'd Wifdom of three thoufand Years..
Nor ſhould the Mufe forget the * Prelate's Fame,
Who grac'd the River with a ſtately Frame,
Known by the flow'ry Meads, which round it lie,
And beauteous Walks, that charm the Student's Eye ;
Where courtly ADDISON attun'd his Lays,
And rais'd his own, by finging DRYDEN'S Praiſe.
Hail, happy Bard! whofe Genius ftill could fhine
In ev'ry Art; for ev'ry Art was thine:
Whether thou didst the Critic's Pen engage,
The Critic's Pen improv'd the Poet's Rage;
Whether thou didst the Hero's Deeds rehearſe,
The Hero's Deeds fhone brighter in thy Verfe:
Or did thy tragic Mufe fublimely tell,.
How ſtubborn CATO for his Country fell;
Parties no more retain'd their factious Hate;
All pity'd CÆSAR's, honour'd CATO's Fate:
Nor leſs thy foft diurnal Effays pleaſe,
That Glafs, where ev'ry Fool his Folly fees ;.
Where
* WAINFLET, Bishop of Winchester, Founder of Magdalen College,
where Mr. ADDISON writ a Panegyric on Mr. DRYDEN, the first Englife
Verfes he ever made public.
on feveral Occafions.
16.5
Where Virtue fhines with fuch attractive Grace,
She tempts the Vicious to her chaſte Embrace.
O! may thy Labours be a Star to guide
My Thoughts and Actions o'er Life's devious Tide;
If Pride, or Paffion check my doubtful Sail,
Let thy Inftructions lend a friendly Gale,
To waft me to the peaceful, happy Shore,
Where thou, immortal Bard! art gone before;
Then those who grant me not a Poet's Name,
Shall own I left behind a better Fame.
魚油​菠​菠​菠​菠​菠​菠​菠​菠
​PENELOPE to ULYSSES.
T
Paraphras'd from OVID.
HESE Lines I fend, impatient of your Stay,
To you, my Lord, who kill me with Delay ;
Yet crave not any Anfwer back, beſide
Yourſelf, the beſt of Anfwers to your Bride.
Sure Troy, fo hateful to the Grecian Dames,
Is ruin'd now, with dire, confuming Flames;
Tho'
166
POEM S
Tho' fcarcely Troy, nor all his King could boaft,
Was Worth the Trouble which her Ruin coft.
O had lewd PARIS funk beneath the Tide,
When, o'er the Seas, he fought the Spartan Bride ;
I had not then accus'd the ling'ring Day,
Nor weav'd, to charm the tedious Night away;
Nor in the Bed, deferted and forlorn,
Lain weeping, cold and comfortleſs, till Morn.
WHENE'ER of Dangers in your Camp I heard,
Thoſe Dangers threaten'd you, I always fear'd:
For Love, like mine, no cold Indiff'rence bears ;
It feeds on tim❜rous Thoughts, and anxious Cares.
I fanfy'd, furious Trojans round thee came ;
And trembling, ever dreaded HECTOR'S Name:
If any faid, ANTILOCHUS was flain,
ANTILOCHUS was he who caus'd my Pain :
Or, if in borrow'd Arms PATROCLUS bled,
I wept, becauſe his Craft no better ſped:
When Rhodian Blood had bath'd the Lycian Spear,
The Rhodian* Youth again renew'd my Care:
In fine, whatever Grecian Chief was kill'd,
My fearful Heart, like frigid Ice, was chill'd;
4.
Left
• TLEPOLEMUS,
on feveral Occafions.
167
Left flatt'ring Fame my doubtful Ears fhould cheat,
And, for my Lord's, proclaim another's Fate:
But Heav'n, propitious to my chafte Defire,
Preferv'd you ſafe, and Troy confum'd with Fire.
BUT now the other Grecian Chiefs return,
And on their ſmoking Altars Off'rings burn;
Their uſeleſs Arms they confecrate to Peace,
And Trojan Spoils the Grecian Temples grace:
Each youthful Bride fome pleafing Gift affords,
To welcome home their fafe-returned Lords;
Their fafe-returned Lords, in Songs of Joy,
'Refound the vanquifh'd Fates of ruin'd Troy:
The wond'ring Sages croud around to hear;
The trembling Girls admire the Tales of War:
The Wives ftand lift'ning, while their Huſbands tell,
How Greece had conquer'd, and how Ilion fell:
One ſtains a Table with the purple Draught,
And fhews the furious Battles, which you fought;
Paints with the Wine, which from the Glaſs he pours,
Camps, Rivers, Hills, and all the Trojan Tow'rs:
And, This, fays he, is the Sigean Plain;
And here the filver Simois rolls his Train;
There
168
POE M S
{
There ftood old PRIAM's ftately Palace; here
ACHILLES pitch'd his Tent, ULYSSES there:
Here mangled HECTOR, dreadful in his Fall,
Affrights the Steeds, that drag him round the Wall.
Your Son, who, fent by me to NESTOR'S Court,
To feek his Father, brought me this Report
From NESTOR'S Mouth, and how the Thracian Lord,
In Sleep, became a Victim to your Sword;
How DOLON fell into your crafty Snare
But, O! ULYSSES, you too boldly dare ;
Too fearleſs, thro' the Camp of Foes you rove,
Mindful of Wiles, forgetful of your Love;
Slaying fo many in a gloomy Night,
One Friend alone, to aid you in the Fight.
It was not thus you rafhly us'd to go.
Among the Midnight Terrors of the Foe;
Fondly of me you formerly have thought,
With Prudence acted, and with Caution fought.
Heav'n knows, with Fear my trembling Bofom beat,.
To hear my Son your daring Deeds relate ;
Till told how you victoriouſly return'd,
Safe, to your Camp, with Thracian Spoils adorn'd..
BUT
on feveral Occafions.
169
BUT what avails it me, your Arms have thrown
Troy's ftately Walls, and lofty Turrets down?
As when they ſtood; if I am robb'd of thee,
Troy's fall'n to others, ftanding ftill to me;
To others, who, with captive Oxen, toil
To turn the Glebe, and till the Trojan Soil;
And while, with crooked Ploughs, they difcompofe
Th'ill-bury'd Aſhes of their flaughter'd Foes;
While Phrygian Fields, grown fat with native Blood,
Bear fruitful Crops, where ſtately Ilion ſtood;
While verdant Harveſts hide their ruin'd Wall,
I mourn my abfent Lord, who wrought its Fall;
Nor can I know the Land, where you refide,
Nor who, nor what detains you from your Bride..
WHATEVER Sailors on our Coaſt appear,
(Hopeful to find fome Tidings of my Dear)
I fly to them, and aſk 'em o'er and o'er,
If e'er they faw you on fome foreign Shore.
Then to their Hands a Letter I impart,
To give it you, the Partner of my
If Chance, or Deſtiny ſhould ever prove
So kind to lead them to my abfent Love.
Heart;
WE
170
POEMS
WE fought for you at antient NESTOR'S Court;
But fought in vain, we heard no true Report:
We ſent to aſk the Spartans too; but they
Knew not the Climate, where you, ling'ring, ftay.
O had APOLLO fav'd his facred Town
Ye Gods! why did I ever wifh it down?
If that were standing, and ULYSSES there,
I nothing, but the Chance of War, ſhould fear :
I ſhould not then be fingly curs'd to cry;
Others would fear the War, no leſs than I.
But now a thouſand Whimfies feed my Care,
Nor know I what to hope, or what to fear;
Yet fearing all, that Fancy can fuggeft,
Unnumber'd Troubles rack my anxious Breaſt :
Upon the Land whatever Dangers reign,
I fear thofe Dangers make you there remain ;
Upon the Seas whatever Storms increaſe,
I fear thofe Storms detain you on the Seas.
While thus my foolish Thoughts uncertain rove,
Perhaps you revel with a foreign Love;
Perhaps you ridicule your Bride at home,
Tell how the ſpins, or drudges in the Loom:
Sufpicious
on feveral Occafions.
171
2
Sufpicious Thoughts! that vex my jealous Mind,
Be gone, and vaniſh into empty Wind!
If cruel Fate did not obſtruct the Way,
My Lord would never make fo long Delay.
Your long Delay my Father often blames,
And often chides ine for my conftant Flames :
My conftant Flames fhall ever true remain;
Let Fathers chide, and Suiters court in vain.
At length my Sire, who finds he can't remove
My Faith from you, or ſhake my ſettled Love,
Remits his Anger, foften'd with my Pray'rs ;
Yet ftill a Croud of Suiters teaze my Ears;
From various Realms they come to feek your Crown,
And feaft, and reign fecurely in your Throne:
'Twould tire me ev'n to count their Number o'er,
MEDON, PISANDER, and a hundred more!
All bent on Love, and Robbers of the State,
And All, by your pernicious Abfence, great!
To crown your Shame, the Beggar IRUS preys
Upon your Sheep, and all the fatteſt ſlays:
And ev❜n your Shepherd, faithlefs to his Lord,
Slaughters your Lambs, to grace the Suiters Board:
Nor have we Strength, their Rapine to oppoſe;
For how can Three refift fo many Foes?
Your
172
POEM S
Your feeble Wife, your Father worn with Age,
Your tender Son, too weak to check their Rage;
For whom they lately crafty Ambuſh laid,
And menac'd Death on his devoted Head;
When, mocking all their Stratagems, he croft
The Seas, to feek you on the Pylian Coaſt.
O! may the Gods extend his vital Date,
And guard his Life, till our's fubmit to Fate:
So may he cloſe our Eyes with decent Care;
Such is your Servant's, fuch his Nurfe's Pray'r.
SINCE then your aged Father, feeble grown,
Amidſt your Foes, cannot defend your Crown;
Your Wife, too weak to chafe the Foes away,
Your Son, too young to bear the Regal Sway;
Haſte, haſte, ULYSSES, to your Royal Seat ;
For you alone can cure our troubled State
Think of your Son, who wants you to inſpire
His Soul with all the Virtues of his Sire:
Think, on the Brink of Fate your Father lies:
Return, my Lord, return, and clofe his Eyes:
Think of your faithful Wife, whofe youthful Face,
At your Departure, blufh'd with blooming Grace:
Y
But
on Several Occafions.
173
But now I bluſh with bloomy Grace no more;
Tears, for your Abfence, cloud my Beauty o'er.
O! may you foon return, before I prove
An antient Dame, unworthy of your Love.
An EPIGRAM.
Words are but Wind.
Tale of a Tub,
I F
F Words are Wind, as fome allow;
No Promiſes can bind;
Since breaking of the ftrictest Vow,
Is only breaking Wind.
A
174
POEMS
A POEM on Her MAJESTY's
Birth-Day.
:
You, the MONARCH'S Blifs, the Mufe's Friend!
Accept the Tribute Duty bids me fend
'Tis what the Bard fhould long before have paid;
But fearful to aſpire, has long delay'd.
PHOEBUS alone can PHOEBUS' Chariot guide;
The Youth who dar'd to drive it, daring, dy'd.
My humble Mufe can humble Subje&s treat ;
But trembles to attempt a Theme fo great :
Yet, warm with Gratitude, would fain difplay
Her Zeal to You, on this aufpicious Day.
To You! whofe gracious Goodneſs plumes her
Wings,
By whom ſhe lives, by whom infpir'd, fhe fings:
Long may the celebrate your facred BIRTH;
Long may you ſtay from Heav'n, to bleſs the Earth;
To chear the Royal Sov'reign of our ISLE;
Increaſe his Joys, or foften all his Toil;
Who
on feveral Occafions.
175
Who now, while Death in purple Triumph reigns,
And fanguine Floods pollute the diſtant Plains ;
Watchful o'er Britain's Fate, employs his Care,
Or wifely to avert, or bravely meet the War.
O glorious QUEEN! by Nature form'd to bring
The ſweeteſt Comfort to the juſteſt KING!
Let proud Oppreffors, who abuſe their Pow'r,
Hear groaning Subjects curſe their natal Hour :
You, on that happy Hour may juſtly feaſt
Your Soul with Thoughts of making Thouſands bleft;
Whoſe godlike Bounties, to the Wretched, ſhow,
You're only pow'rful to relieve their Woe.
WHAT tho' the Mufe old Annals fhould explore,
Mark all our Queens, and trace their Virtues o'er ?
Where could you find fo much exalted Senfe,
Nobly employ'd, like your's, in Truth's Defence?
You ftrive to make the Seeds of Virtue grow,
To fpread the Light, which Heav'n reveal'd below:
Yet, free from fuperftitious Zeal, incline
To make the Rays of Moral Goodneſs ſhine;
Supporting thoſe, who, firm to Truth, defend
That firft-fix'd Law, on which all Laws depend.
I
BENEATH
176
POEMS
BENEATH your Influence, Art and Science rear
Their facred Heads, and flouriſh by your Care:
This Truth let Oxford's pompous Dome proclaim,
Which boaſts the Honour of a* Royal Name.
Lately your Bard furvey'd the graceful Scene,
Rifing with Bounties of a gen'rous QUEEN!
O! had the Mufe there fledg'd her infant Wing,
And early tafted of that learned Spring;
She then had foar'd in more heroic Lays,
In more majeſtic Numbers fung your Praiſe ;
But fearful now, muft quit the glorious Theme,
Muſt leave the Architect to ſpeak your Fame:
His Art fhall there another Athens fhew,
And there another Guardian PALLAS You.
* Queen's College.
FELIX
on feveral Occafions.
177
}
FELIX and CONSTANCE.
A POEM, taken from BoCCACE.
To the Right Honourable the Countess of Pomfret.
B
LOWN on the rolling Surface of the Deep,
The mourning Maid at length reclines to Sleep;
While confcious Viſions labour in her Breaſt,
And airy Spectres difcompofe her Reſt.
Sometimes the feems upon her native Shore,
Blefs'd with the beauteous Youth, as heretofore;
Hears him converfe, while from his tuneful Tongue
Melodious Senſe, in melting Mufic, rung:
Sometimes fhe finds, or feems at leaft to find,
His fhatter'd Veffel forc'd before the Wind,
With foaming Waves, and furious Tempefts toft,
The Maft, and broken Sails, and Sailors loft:
Sometimes her Dream, in frightful Forms, diſplay'd
A Croud of Martyrs, cruel Love had made;
I 2
Lamenting
t
O EM S
178
POE
Lamenting THISBE's Shade before her ſtands,
Shews her capacious Wound, and purple Hands ;
Now lyric SAPPHO in the Tide expires,
Now faithful PORCIA eats the living Fires.
At length, awaking from her Dream, fhe hears
A Latian Voice, which thus falutes her Ears:
UNHAPPY Chriſtian Maid! (for ſuch, at leaſt,
You, by your decent Habit, feem expreſt)
Say whence you came, and hither how convey'd,
Expos'd to Sea, without the Seaman's Aid?
Soon as the Nymph her native Language hears,
Her frighted Soul was fill'd with Doubts and Fears:
She thought, the adverſe Wind, or refluent Main,
Had forc'd her back to Liparis again;
Till, ftarting up, a ſpacious Land ſhe ſpies;
Barbarian Caves and Cots her Sight furprize :
She fees a Matron on the neighb'ring Strand;
Nor knows the Matron, nor the neighb'ring Land.
O! whither, whither am I blown? fhe cries ;
What Dens and Caves appear before my Eyes?
And who inhabit 'em? or Beaſts of Prey,
Ɔr Men, leſs kind, and crueller than they?
To
on feveral Occafions.
179
To whom the Matron : Fly, nor dare to truſt
The faithlefs People of this hated Coaſt:
Here Sailors oft their hapless Fate deplore;
Who 'fcap'd the Seas, are wreck'd upon the Shore:
For, when the forceful Wind, and foaming Deep,
To this inhuman Coaft impel the Ship;
Around the Beach the rude Barbarians ftray,
Deſtroy the Mariners, and feize their Prey;
By others Death, they keep themſelves alive,
Subfift by Rapine, and by Ruin thrive.
UNHAPPY Fate! the mourning Nymph reply'd;
O! had I perifh'd in the fafer Tide!
For much I fear, the Land I now furvey,
Dooms me to greater Evils, than the Sea:
And yet what greater Ills can Fate provide,
Than thus to feek for Death, and be deny'd?
Not fo my FELIX 'fcap'd the raging Waves;
Him NEPTUNE funk, and me unkindly faves;
Saves, only to increafe my former Woes;
To fall, perhaps, by more ungen'rous Foes,
Or to indulge fome luftful Tyrant's Will:
But, O ye Heav'ns! avert the fatal Ill;
I 3
Protect
180
POEMS
Protect my Honour in this foreign Coaft,
The only Bleffing which I have not loft!
THE lift'ning Matron wonders with Surprize;
Nor hears, unmov'd, the weeping Damfel's Cries;
But leads her to her neighb'ring Cottage, where
She chears her fainting Soul with homely Fare;
Condoles her Grief, and begs her to diſcloſe
Her Country, Cares, and Caufe of all her Woes.
Excited by her Words, the penfive Maid
Preludes with Sighs, and thus, reluctant, faid:
O hofpitable Dame! why would you move
A Wretch to tell a Tale of hapless Love?
Which, in relating, muft renew my Grief;
Nor can I hope, nor you beftow Relief:
Yet, fince you feem a Partner of my Care,
'Tis juſt a Partner know the Weight I bear.
NOT far from Etna's flaming Mount I came,
From Liparis, and CONSTANCE is my Name:
Great Honours and Eftatęs my Sire poffefs'd,
And, O! too much to make his Daughter blefs'd.
Γ
on feveral Occafions.
181
I once with Fame and Fortune was fupply'd,
Nor envy'd Empreffes their Pomp and Pride;
Now, like a Meteor, fallen from its Height,
My Glory's vaniſh'd, and extinct my Light
Full twenty Years in Happiness I pafs'd,
And ev'ry Year was happier than the laſt.
Young FELIX then his Love began to fhow;
(Young FELIX was the Cauſe of all my Woe)
A beauteous Youth, endow'd with manly Grace;
But far his noble Soul excell'd his Face:
And, tho' his niggard Fate had Wealth deny'd,
The Want of Wealth by Virtue was fupply'd,
Two Years to win my doubtful Heart he ftrove,
Two Years my doubtful Heart declin'd his Love :
Yet ſtill he prefs'd me with his am'rous Tale,
Nor found at length, 'twas fruitless to affail:
For, by Degrees, infenfibly I came
To first approve, and then indulge, his Flame ;
Nor could his Suit, nor would his Vows reprove;
I heard with Joy, nor thought it Sin to love;
Till in my Breaft imperious CUPID reign'd:
Alafs! how eaſy Love a Conqueft gain'd!
And now my reafon check'd my Will no more;
But fed the Flame, it ftrove to quench before:
I
1 4
Yet
182
POEMS
}
Yet durft not an immodeft Thought approve ;
Love rul'd my Heart, but Honour rul'd my Love :
I fcorn'd to ftain my Virtue with a King;
As much my Lover ſcorn'd fo mean a Thing.
What could we do? What cannot Love infpire?
The Youth reveals his Paffion to my Sire;
And in fuch melting Accents made it known,
As might have mov'd all Fathers, but my own:
But proudly he my Lover's Suit repell'd;
And, frowning, thus our mutual Ruin feal'd:
No more, prefumptuous Youth! thy Paffion name;
Suppress the Sparks, before they rife to Flame.
How dar'ft thou, vulgar Wretch, ignobly born,
My Daughter's Scandal, and her Father's Scorn!
Aſpire to wed ſo far above thy Fate ?
He fternly faid, and forc'd him from his Gate:
O Avarice! what Evils doft thou caufe,
Breaking the Bands of Love, and Nature's Laws?
Go, hungry God! and rule the Narrow-foul'd;
Collect, and guard their curft, bewitching Gold;
Fit Province for thy Reign! too mean to prove
The Charms of Nuptial Life, and Joys of Love!
Ah!
on feveral Occafions.
183
Ah! what avails to gain a pompous Name,
With boaſted Titles of paternal Fame,
Deriv'd from Anceſtors of noble Blood?
Things common to the Vicious and the Proud!
Refulgent Equipage, and gaudy Shows,
Fictitious Ornaments of real Woes!
If Love be abfent, Pomp and worldly Gain
But gild our Cares, and varnish o'er our Pain.
O! had my cruel Father thought like me,
I ne'er had prov❜d the Dangers of the Sea,
Nor ever wander'd here a baniſh'd Maid;
And, O dear FELIX! thou hadst not been dead!
So ſpeaks the trembling Nymph; and while fhe
ſpeaks,
The pearly Torrents ſtream adown her Checks ;
Cold clammy Sweats, and throbbing Sighs arife,
Slow moves the Blood, and dizzy roll her Eyes;
So much affected with her Lover's Fate,
She ſtruggled, groan'd, and fainted from her Seat.
Her Hoſteſs ſtraight a grateful Cordial fought,
And to her Lips applies the chearful Draught,
Waſhing her Temples with reviving Oil;
The vital Spirits anfwer to her Toil;
The
184
POEMS
K
The purple Tide begins to roll again,
Again diffuſes Life thro' ev'ry Vein:
And now the fighing, rais'd her drooping Head
And, Is my Death, fhe cries, again delay'd?
Why did you check me on the Brink of Fate?
Better the Soul had fled her loathfome Seat.
Death is the only Good I wiſh to know,
End of my Pain, and Period of my Woe.
To whom replies the Dame: Unhappy Fair!
Rely on Heav'n, nor let your Soul deſpair :
Teach me to give your troubled Heart Relief ;
Or teach me how, at least, to fhare your Grief:
Your mournful Story much affects my Mind,
Yet fomething feems remaining ſtill behind.
O! much, CONSTANTIA fays, remains to come,
The fatal Part that finiſhes my Doom:
For, when my FELIX, (FELIX now no more!)
Was baniſh'd from my haughty Father's Door,
Not able to obtain me for his Bride,
Nor willing to refign me, tho' deny'd;
Hope, from Defpair, his daring Soul conceives:
A Bark he builds, to plough the briny Waves:
Then
on feveral Occafions.
185
Then call'd a few Domeſtics to his Aid,
Embrac'd me in his Arms, and fighing, faid:
O Thou, for ever dear, for ever bleſt,
At once the Joy, and Trouble of my Breaft!
Since Poverty expels me from thy Arms,
Since Wealth alone is worthy of thy Charms;
I ſwear by all the mighty Pow'rs above,
(Sad Fate, that drives me from the Nymph I love!)
To try my Fortune on remoter Shores,
And feek the Gold, thy Sire fo much adores,
Perhaps the Planets, unpropitious here,
In other Climes may kinder Aſpects were ;
May lead me where the rocky Di'monds lie,
Or where the golden Mines may Wealth ſupply;
If not, the laſt fad Pleaſure is to die.
SUCH was the fatal Vow he rafhly made;
A fatal Vow, and fatally obey'd!
Struck dumb, my Tears the Want of Words fupply'd;
His, mixt with mine, increas'd the pearly Tide:
Yet, left I fhould his Refolution ſhake,
He rush'd away, and mounted on the Deck:
}
His
186
POEM S
;
His hafty Crew expand the fwelling Sails,
Strong rolls the Sea before impulfive Gales:
The crooked Keel the frothy Flood divides,
Swift flies the Ship, and ruſhes thro' the Tides.
My Lover long my gazing Eyes purſue ;
As long my Lover kept me in his View:
Reluctant fo, departing Souls prepare,
To wing their doubtful Flight, they know not where;
Reluctant fo, expiring Bodies lie,
Nor willing theſe to ſtay, nor thoſe to fly.
TWICE twenty Days I ſpent in fruitleſs Tears,
Before the fatal Tidings reach'd my Ears;
How FELIX, failing o'er the watry Way,
Was wreck'd on Rocks, and perifh'd in the Sea.
O! then what Trouble, Grief, and anxious Care,
Confus'd my Soul, and bent it to Deſpair!
I curs'd the Caufe, that forc'd him to expire;
O Heav'n! forgive me, if I curs'd my Sire:
I fled his Houſe, and fought the lonely Grove,
(The gloomy Witneſs of my former Love.)
Where, once refolv'd to feek the Shades below,
I drew the Knife, to ftrike the mortal Blow;
Till
on feveral Occafions.
187
Till Piety the cruel Thought fuppreft,
And check'd the Roman Courage of my Breaft:
I trembling faw two doubtful Paths; nor knew,
Which Path was beſt to ſhun, or which purſue;
Oppofing Paffions in my Bofom ftrove,
And Confcience now prevail'd, and now my Love.
As when the Wind and Tide a Conteſt make,
The Sailor, trembling, fees his Veſſel ſhake;
This Way, and that, and both, by Turns reclin'd,
As fwells the Surge, or blows the furious Wind:
So was my Soul with diff'rent Notions fway'd,
Of this, of that, of both, and all afraid.
Ah! why fhould Mortals of their Reafon boaft,
Which moſt deſerts 'em, when they want it moſt ?
For, when the troubled Mind's confus'd with Pain,
'Tis but an Ignis Fatuus of the Brain ;
Which, if our wand'ring Souls from Virtue ſtray,
But leads us more and more from Virtue's Way :
So led it me to ftem the devious Tide,
And feek for Death, where wretched FELIX dy'd
Nor diſtant far, a fiſhing Veſſel ſtood,
Nor wholly on the Land, nor in the Flood:
Arriv'd
188
POEMS
Arriv'd to this, I row'd it from the Shore;
And, bent on Death, the Tide I now explore;
Expecting, ſoon, the friendly-furious Wave
Would give my Troubles and myſelf a Grave.
But, when I faw the Billows round me flow,
The boundleſs Skies above, and Seas below;
Scar'd with the Terrors of the watry Space,
I wrapt my Mantle round my tim'rous Face:
Then lay me down, to all the Dangers blind;
Chance was my Compaſs, and my Pilot, Wind.
Blown here and there, I floated on the Deep,
Which rock'd my Eyes, but not my Fears afleep:
For now my dreaming Soul, in Fancy's Maze,
A thouſand tragic airy Ghoſts furveys;
Which flutter'd round me, and reproaching, faid;
Die, Coward! follow FELIX to the Shade:
Why wouldst thou wish to live, now he is dead?
But when, at length, your friendly Voice I heard,
My Viſion ceas'd, the Spectres diſappear'd.
Thus have I told, but can't difpel my Care;
For who can conquer Love, or cure Defpair?
THUS fhe; and thus CAPRESA ſpake again:
(So was fhe call'd, who wak'd her on the Main)
Unhappy
}
on feveral Occafons.
189
Unhappy Nymph! compofe your troubled Mind,
Nor doubt the gracious Guide of human Kind:
That GOD, who fav'd you from the foamy Wave,
Will doubtless guard the Life, he deign'd to fave.
Vouchsafe to take the Counſel I can lend :
At Sufa Heav'n has blefs'd me with a Friend,
Much fam'd for Wealth, for pious Actions more;
No Huſband, and no Children, but the Poor:
Let me conduct you to her friendly Gate;
(Too ſmall my Cottage for a Gueſt ſo great :)
She will protect you from Barbarian Foes,
With prudent Counfel mitigate your Woes,
And charm your ruffled Soul to foft Repoſe.
BLEST Partner of my Grief! the Damfel faid,
Some Angel furely fent you to my Aid;
For now fome dawning Rays of Hope appear,
That chace away the Clouds of dark Deſpair.
This Paufe of Pain, and Interval of Grace,
Shall be employ'd in Search of future Peace.
Then guide and guard me to your noble Friend;
So may you never want this Aid you lend !
And, as we travel, deign to let me know,
To whom ſo many Thanks I juſtly owe;
السم
What
190
POEMS
What hapless Fortune caft you on this Land,
What Occupation here employs your Hand..
Sweet Converſation may fufpend my Care,
Difpel my Grief, or make it leſs ſevere :
So fhall I eaſier reach the neighb'ring Town;
And, lift'ning to your Fate, forget my own.
THUS fhe; and thus the penfive Dame replies:
(With briny Drops diftilling from her Eyes)
Fain would I, lovely Nymph! fufpend your Care,
Difpel your Grief, or make it leſs ſevere ::
But, were I all my Fortune to explain,
'Twould not alleviate, but increaſe your Pain ;-
For in your Soul ſuch Sparks of Nature glow,
As make you ſhare your Neighbour's Joy or Woe.
The Chriftian Faith I fecretly embrace,
Tho' doom'd to dwell among a Pagan Race:
Trepanum waſted all my Bloom of Life,
Where long I liv'd, a Farmer's happy Wife:
My careful, loving Huſband till'd the Soil,
Nor was the Field ungrateful to his Toil:
For, ev'ry Summer, CERES crown'd the Plain;
Each Autumn fill'd the Barn with golden Grain :-
So
on Several Occafions.
191
So thick the verdant Harveſt yearly ſtood,
The Meadows feem'd to groan beneath their Load,
Our fleecy Flocks were fruitful of their Young,
Hail were our Oxen, and our Horſes ſtrong;
Nor did our Kine of milky Produce fail,
But with diftended Udders fill'd the Pail.
'Twas then, alas! how often have I cry'd,
I would not wish to be a Monarch's Bride!
When all around my little Infants came,
Hung on my Knees, and lifp'd their Mama's Name;
Or met their Father with the Ev'ning Ray,
Embrac'd his Neck, and kifs'd his Cares away.
Soon as their riper Age could Labour bear,
We fent 'em forth to feed the fleecy Care;
Where often have we ſpent the Summer's Day,
Charm'd to behold the wanton Cattle's Play.
What Pleaſure 'twas to fee the ſkipping Lambs?
What Muſic, when they bleated for their Dams ?
We thought our Joys could never be increas'd;
Love, Peace, and Plenty join'd to make us blefs'd.
But fee how Fortune holds her fickle Reign!
She raises up, to tumble down again :
For now our Thread of Happineſs was ſpun;
The Gains of twenty Years were loſt in one.
'Twas
192
CA
POEM
'Twas in the Seaſon, when the verdant Mead
Begins to aſk the Mower's crooked Blade;
Before the Wheat receives a yellow Stain,
Or milky Juice is harden'd into Grain ;
A Gale of Poiſon baleful EURUS caſt;
The vernal Product ficken'd with the Blaft ;
Our Meadows ſtraight a ſaffron Scene diſcloſe,
Our infant Apples quit the blighted Boughs;
Peaſe, Wheat, and Barley, wither'd in the Fields,
And Nature one abortive Harveſt yields:
Nor ftopt it here; the flying Plague began
To fpread the Bane in Breaſts, and thence to Man:
Firſt dy'd our Sheep upon the ruffet Plain,
Next fwell'd our Oxen with a fatal Blain;
Here tumbles, o'er her Meat, the moping Cow;
There drops the panting Horſe before the Plough ;
At length the dire Contagion ſpread ſo wide,
My Virgin Children made the Tomb their Bride.
This Nature bore But when our Landlord fent
His Officers, to feize my Lord for Rent;
And he, to fhun the Prifon, flies the Shore,
Lifts on the Sea, to tug the lab'ring Oar;
I wept, I rav'd, I curs'd the baleful Air;
And fled my native Land, but not my Care.
Thus,
on feveral Occafions.
193
Thus, baniſh'd here, a Widow, and a Wife,
Condemn'd to fuffer not enjoy a Life,
I toil for thoſe, who catch the finny Prey;
The Toils are great, but very ſmall the Pay!
Their ſcaly Fry to Market oft I bear,
Oft in the Ocean waſh their thready Snare;
And then was waſhing, when, with great Surprize,
You, and your floating Veffel, met my Eyes.
Now Heav'n defend us both! the Nymph reply'd ;
And can fuch Rage in Chriſtian Minds refide ?
What, could the curft, inhuman Tyrant wreſt
Thy tender Huſband from thy loving Breaſt,
When all thy Wealth was loft, thy Children dead ?
O Virtue! Virtue! whither art thou fled ?
Why muſt ſuch Evils on the Guiltless flow?
Ye Heav'ns
is Innocence rewarded fo?
So fpake the Nymph; her Friend no more replies;
For now PRISCILLA's Dome attracts their Eyes:
Approaching to her friendly Gate, they found
The gen'rous Lady dealing Alms around
To needy Souls, a hapless, helpleſs Crowd,
Who daily blefs'd her Hand for daily Food!
When
194
POE M S
When thus CAPRESA: Hail, for ever blefs'd!
'Tis Godlike thus to fuccour the Diftrefs'd:
Yet none of theſe, who claim your Chriftian Aid,
Deferves it more than this unhappy Maid ;
Who once was blefs'd with Fame and Riches too,
Tho' fickle Fortune now is turn'd her Foe;
Unlike the Mendicants, who daily ſhare
Your friendly Bounty, and maternal Care.
To whom the Lady, with a gracious Look,
That feem'd to breathe Compaffion, while fhe fpoke:
Sure Decency forbids, a Gueſt ſo great
Should, undiſtinguiſh'd, with the Vulgar eat.
No; deck my Table with the choiceft Fare;
The Nymph, with me, a kind Repaſt ſhall ſhare;
For, by her Looks, if Truth may be divin'd,
That lovely Body cloaths a lovely Mind.
SHE faid, and CONSTANCE low Obeifance made;
Then gladly follow'd, where PRISCILLA led.
Within the Gate a ſpacious Room ſhe found,
Whoſe Walls were beautify'd with Tap'ftry round;
Where pious Tales appear'd, fo lively wrought,
The Work feem'd vital, and the Figures Thought:
Here,
-་་ -.
on Several Occafions.
195
Here, in the Shade, the Jewish Patriarch ſtood,
Feaſting the Sons of Heav'n with earthly Food;
While, there, the good Samaritan confeft
His Kindneſs, and reproach'd the cruel Priest;
With many more, a charitable Band,
The fkilful Labour of PRISCILLA's Hand.
HITHER the Dame convey'd a ſweet Repaft?
Rich Meats, and rofy Wines the Tables grac❜d:
They eat, they drank, in pleaſing Converſe join'd;
And chear❜d at once the Body and the Mind.
The Call of Nature being foon ſuppreſt,
Thus fpake the Lady to her youthful Gueft.
SAY, lovely Stranger! (for I long to know;
So may propitious Heav'n remove thy Woe!)
Whence thus reduc'd? By Famine, Sword, or Fire?
What Sire thy Beauty boafts, what Land thy Sire?
Perhaps fome Princeſs, baniſh'd from her Home,
Thus condeſcends to grace my ruftic Dome :
If fo, I greatly fear, my homely Fealt
Has been unworthy of my Royal Gueſt.
SHE
}
196
POEMS
SHE faid, the Nymph unfolds her Tale again;
The prudent Dame attempts to foothe her Pain,
And thus reply'd: Tho' weighty are your Woes,
The weightieſt Ill, with Patience, lighter grows:
Then bear with Patience all that Heav'n defign'd,
Whofe Ways are juft, tho' difficult to find,
Plann'd for the genʼral Good of human Kind.
God's Paths in winding Mazes often lie,
Too intricate for feeble Reaſon's Eye;
Moft regular, when in Confuſion loft ;
Moft conftant, when they feem to vary moft.
Perhaps his Mercy forc'd you thus to roam,
To fhun a more unhappy Fate at home ;
For with one Evil he removes a worſe,
And bleffes oft with what we think a Curfe.
Then let your Soul at Fortune not repine;
But truft in Heav'n's Protection, next, in mine:
In me you ſtill ſhall find a faithful Friend,
With whom, in Time, your Troubles all may end :
But, fince you now are harraſs'd out with Woes,
Refreſh your weary Soul with ſweet Repoſe;
And when you wake, at Morning, may you find
Heav'n's balmy Comfort heal your wounded Mind!
4
THUS
on feveral Occafions.
197
1
}
1
THUS chear'd, the Nymph obfequiouſly withdrew,
And bath'd her Cares in Sleep's refreſhing Dew;
Till PHOEBUS, rifing from the Shades of Night,
With rofy Keys unlock'd the Gates of Light :
Bright as his Beams, arofe the beauteous Maid;
And, to her Patronefs returning, ſaid:
WHAT Thanks, propitious Lady! fhall I give
For all the Godlike Bounties I receive?
O! let my Silence thank you; for I know,
Words can't exprefs the Gratitude I owe.
To whom replies the venerable Dame:
No other Thanks, but Gratitude I claim :
The Terms of Charity are never hard,
Love and Compaffion are their own Reward:
A Soul, that fuccours Virtue, when diſtreft,
Can with Reflection make a noble Feaft: ;
Which nouriſhes the Mind, and overpays
A gen'rous Deed with felf-approving Praiſe.
SUCH was their Converſe, till domeftic Care
Invites PRISCILLA from the youthful Fair;
1
Who
198
POEMS
;
Who fat in penfive Solitude, and ftrove
To foften, or fufpend the Pains of Love.
At length the Linen on her Knee ſhe ſpread,
And with her Needle mark'd the docile Thread.
Young THISBE's Fate fhe firſt began to frame;
But foon commits her Labour to the Flame:
Next drew the HERO finking in the Main
Then raz'd the finiſh'd Image out again;
Both thefe difpleas'd her, tho' judicious Art,
And Rays of Nature fhone in ev'ry Part.
At length her own unhappy Tale fhe choſe,
And lively paints the Scene of all her Woes :
Her charming FELIX firft the Linen grac'd;
By whom her Father, frowning ftern, ſhe plac'd :
Her Lover's Parting next to theſe appears;
(But, weeping here, fhe foil'd her Work with Tears)
Next, on the Seas, the drew his floating Ship;
Next, her own Boat, flow-wand'ring on the Deep:
By theſe fhe fix'd CAPRESA on the Strand,
Who wak'd her firft, and welcom'd her to Land:
The good PRISCILLA laft employ'd her Art,
Whoſe Aſpect ſpoke the Bounty of her Heart;
Her
on feveral Occafions.
199
Her friendly Roof, a Refuge for the Poor,
The Horn of Plenty, pendent o'er the Door,
Diffufing Bleffings ftill, and ftill increafing more.
All theſe confeft fuch Beauty, Skill, and Care,
Not HELEN better wove the Trojan War,
While HECTOR, PARIS, and their Martial Train,
With Grecian Heroes battled on the Plain.
HERE let us leave the lovely Nymph a-while,
To paſs her tedious Hours in pleaſing Toil:
Her abfent Lover now my Song purſues,
Whofe valiant Deeds require a nobler Mufe.
SWIFT-PINION'D FAME, which often babbling
Alies
To bear the unwelcome Truths, and oftner Lies,
Had ſpread the ductile Error far and wide,
How wand'ring FELIX perifh'd in the Tide.
But FELIX fafely reach'd the Thunic Port,
And ſoon arriv'd to Honours in the Court:
His Wifdom there the wifeft Peers excell'd;
His Valour more furpafs'd 'em in the Field.
When firſt he to the Royal Palace came,
An Accident occur'd to raise his Fame:
K
}
200
MS
POE
A noble Lord there was, of great Renown,
Rebell'd againſt the King, and claim'd his Crown ;
Great Preparations made he for the Fight;
Nor leſs the Monarch, to defend his Right;
But fummon'd all, to meet the daring Foe,
Whoſe Strength could wield a Sword, or bend a Bow;
And promis'd to reward their Martial Care,
With Honours equal to their Deeds in War.
Now rings the Region with the Foe's Alarms,
Terrific fhines the Field with burniſh'd Arms ;
The Martial Trumpet, founding from afar,
With dreadful Notes, proclaims approaching War.
The Royal Army valiant. FELIX join'd;
Intrepid Courage animates his Mind:
Fix'd in the Front, the Foe he bravely dares,
Like PALLAS prudent, and as bold as MARS.
Say, Mufe, what Goddeſs, that tremendous Hour,
Aided the Youth with fuch unuſual Pow'r?
Bright VENUS, confcious of the Lover's Smart,
Sharpen'd his Sword, and pointed ev'ry Dart:
Fierce, as a Lion, thro' the Lines he fprung,
And forc'd his Foes, like trembling Stags along.
As
on feveral Occafions.
201
As when refiftlefs Winds rufh o'er the Deep,
And from its Anchor force the driving Ship,
Or furiouſly againſt the Woodland roar ;
The leafy Harveft, tumbling, flies before:
So rufh'd the Hero on the adverſe Band,
So fled the Legions from his pow'rful Hand,
Till foon the rebel Lord he Pris'ner made,
And to the King his captive Prize convey'd.
Now reaps the Youth the Glory of his Toil;
To him the Monarch gives the Martial Spoil,
Rewards his Valour with a noble Poft,
And makes him firft Commander of his Hoft,
Thus, quickly FELIX gain'd a deathleſs Name;
Thus, was his Labour crown'd with Wealth and Fame
But Wealth and Fame infipid Things appear;
To give them Tafte, he wants the lovely Fair;
The lovely Fair, oppreft with equal Grief,
To make her happy, wants the glorious Chief.
HIS Fame, which foon at Sufa was reveal'd,
(Heroic Actions feldom lie conceal'd)
K 2
With
202
POEM S
With pleafing Wonder ftruck CONSTANTIA's Ears,
And fill'd her doubtful Soul with Hopes and Fears;
For, tho' the wife PRISCILLA often ftrove
With prudent Counſel to ſuppreſs her Love;
Her Love was only leffen'd, not fuppreft,
But glows again, again diſtracts her Breaſt.
As when, in rural Cots, the Flames afpire,
And lab'ring Peaſants quench the mounting Fire
If Chance a latent Spark remain behind,
In heapy Aſhes, fann'd with ambient Wind.;
The Fires again, with former Fury, rife,
Flame thro' the Roof, and flaſh into the Skies:
So in her Bofom glows the am'rous Fire,
And fills her tender Soul with ſoft Defire.
And is my FELIX yet alive? fhe fays;
And is he crown'd with Wealth, and deathleſs Praife?
No, no; I fear the flatt'ring Tale deceives
Methinks I fee him plunging in the Waves.
s;
Ah! why, ye Heav'ns, are feeble Mortals curſt,
In Things uncertain, to believe the Worſt?
No; rather let me fee the Thunic Court;
There, with my Eyes, confirm the bleft Report:
Hope
on feveral Occafions.
203
Hope Alias before, and points the pleaſing Way ;
Love urges on, and Love I must obey.
So faying, to PRISCILLA ſtraight ſhe came,
And with her Thoughts acquaints the pious Dame;
The pious Dame, with tender Pity fway'd,
Approves the Paffion of the loving Maid;
And, with CAPRESA, guards her to the Place,.
Refolv'd herſelf to view the Hero's Face,
The Hero meets 'em at the Regal Gate,
Array'd in Armour formidably great;
For on that Morning, by the King's Command,
The Chief was to review the Martial Band :
His ftudded Chariot darted Splendor round,
His ſtately Courfers, neighing, paw'd the Ground 5
The nodding Plumes around his Temples wave,
With awful Grace, and beautifully brave.
He knew th approaching Nymph; but, in Surprize,
The joyous Stream defcended from his Eyes:
The Nymph beheld the weeping Chief; nor knew,
For what he wept, nor whom fhe came to view:
His Martial Drefs, befpangled o'er with Gold,
The dreadful Warrior, not the Lover, told:
K3
Bet,
204
OEM M S
POE
But, when he caft the Helmet from his Head,
And thro' the Gates the blufhing Damfel led;
She knew her Lover, clafp'd him to her Breaft,
While filent Eloquence her Joy confeft:
The confcious Pains an abfent Lover bears,
Despair, fallacious Hope, and anxious Fears,
For Want of Words, were painted with their Tears.
And when, at length, their cryftal Sluices ceas'd,
The joyful Hero thus the Nymph addreſs'd:
YE Gods! and have I then my Charmer found?
And are my Labours thus completely crown'd!
Yes! let me clafp thee to my longing Arms,
Drink in thy Breath, and feed upon thy Charms.
As widow'd Turtles, roving round the Fields,
'Thro' all the fruitful Stores, which Nature yields,
Curft in the midſt of Plenty, cannot eat;
But ftarve, lamenting for their abſent Mate:
Thus have I been with Fame and Riches grac'd;
Yet wanted thee to give my Riches Tafte.
But fay, how came this Wealth I wanted moſt?
What brought my Love to this Barbarian Coaft?
НЕ
}
on feveral Occafions.
205
He faid; and now the joyful Damfel ſpake;
The Dangers which ſhe ſuffer'd for his fake;
Shews him the Dame, who found her on the Tide;
PRISCILLA toc, who all her Wants ſupply'd':
Then, proftrate, on her Knees before him bends,
And begs him to reward her faithful Friends.
The grateful Chief, by native Goodness fway'd,
Embrac'd 'em both, and foon the Nymph obey'd`;
But first before his royal Mafter came,
And begs he may refign his Poft of Fame:
At which the Monarch frowns with awful Eyes;
Till FELIX ftraight, who faw his Paffion rife,
Falls on the Ground, and to his Mafter fhows
The various Scene of all his am'rous Woes.
This heard, the King refumes his former Grace ;
Love tun'd his Soul, and fmooth'd his ruffled Face:
He rais'd the Hero, bids the Nymph appear;
The Nymph approach'd him with a modeft Fear;
Before his aweful Throne, fubmifs, the fell,
And to him ftraight unfolds th' amazing Tale.
Mute, on the Ground, a-while he fix'd his Eyes;
Then, Is the Force of Love fo great? he cries:
K 4.
We
206
РОЕ M S
We falfely Man the World's Commander call ;.
Thou, mightier Monarch, Love! commandeft All:
Young AMMON's Self could not thy Pow'r confine s
The World his Subject was, but He was thine.
THEN, fmiling, thus he cheard the trembling Fair,
Henceforward, lovely Nymph, difmifs thy Care;
For, fince thy Love has conquer'd Wind and Sea,
Curft be the King, that's crueller than they !
Let HYMEN ftraight confirm the Marriage Ties ;
Thou juſtly haft deferv'd the Nuptial Prize.
THIS faid, he crown'd the Hero's Martial Care
With Riches far fuperior to the Fair:
Due Thanks return'd, they to PRISCILLA came,
Beftowing Gifts and Honours on the Dame:
CAPRESA next, with Age and Labour worn,
In comely Robes the grateful Pair adorn;
With ample Wealth her former Blifs reftor'
And from the Seas redeem'd her Nuptial Lord;
Her Nuptial Lord again enjoys his Wife,
Again delightful Freedom crowns his Life;
Till Nature calls him to refign his Breath,
In honourable Age, and peaceful Death.
THIS
on feveral Occafions.
207.
THIS done, the loving Couple quit the Shore,
And joyfully the deftin'd Port explore;
While fportive NEREIDS round their Veffel play,
And wanton CUPIDS hail them on their Way;
Rough THETIS' Self affumes a pleafing Smile,
Glad to return them to their native Soil;
Where facred HYMEN join'd their mutual Hands,
And, Heav'n, indulgent, blefs'd their Nuptial Bands.
KS
AI
208 POEMS
Ad JOANNEM MILTONUM.
CED E, Meles; cedat depreſſa Mincius urna z
Sebetus TASSUM definat ufque loqui :
At Thamefis victor cunctis ferat altior undas;
Nam per te, MILTO, par tribus unus erit.
;
Epigramma JOANNIS SALSILLI Romani
L
Thus Imitated.
ET Mincio now in humble Waves fubfide;
The Mantuan Swan no more fupports his Pride;
No more let Meles boaft of HOMER's Lays;
No more Sebetus murmur TASSO's Praiſe :
Since Thames can glory in our MILTON's Name,
Thames fhall be equal to them all in Fame.
An
on feveral Occafions.
209
An Imitation of the Tenth ODE of the
Second Book of HORACE.
Rectus vives, LICIN I, neque altum
Semper urgendo, &c.
To the Right Hon. the Lord Viſcount PALMERSTON.
I
F we, my Lord, with eaſy Strife,
;
Would pass the fickle Tide of Life
We muſt not always rafhly fail
With ev'ry light, inconftant Gale;
Nor yet, at ev'ry Surge that roars,
Too tim❜rous feek the craggy Shores.
The Man who keeps the Golden Mean,
Where raging Storms are feldom feen,
Avoids the dang'rous Rocks and Pools,
That fright the Wife, and ſwallow Fools:
He's ne'er deſpis'd among the Crowd,
Nor envy'd in the Court;
But fteers between the Baſe and Proud,
}
To gain the peaceful Port.
While
210
POEM S
}
While lofty Spires and Cedars fall,
Storm-beaten, to the Plain,
The lowly Shrub, and humble Wall;
Are Proof to Wind and Rain;
;:
And Lightnings guiltlefs o'er the Cottage fly;
But fmite th' ambitious Hills, that, tow'ring, threats
the Sky,
THE fteady Mind, that's truly great,
Surveys, unmov'd, the Turns of Fate:
Wealth and Fame his Pride increaſe,
His Fears their Force controul;.
If adverſe Fortune would depreſs,
Hope elevates his Soul;
Becauſe he knows, the Pow'r who bringa..
The Winter with its dreary Wings,.
Can make the vernal Beauties grow,
And turn our Woe to Blifs, or Blifs to Woa..
If now on anxious. Cares you feed,
A feaft of Joy may foon fucceed,
To chear your penfive Mind.
With Times, our Tempers vary round;
Nothing immutable is found,
But all to Change inclin'd
Tho
on feveral Occalons.
2431
{
Tho' POPE with Illneſs oft complains,.
POPE is not always rack'd with Pains;
But, warm'd with PHOEBUS' Fire,
Sometimes he wakes the fleeping String,..
Or bids the filent Mufes fing
And charms us with his Lyre..
OUR Life's at beft, a chequer'd 'Scene,.
Of Health and Sicknels, Mirth and Spleen:
Yet, fince we all muſt ſtem this Sea,
Where Calm and Tempeft. dwell;
Grieve not to steer the deftin'd Way,
But ftrive to paſs it well :
If adverfe Storms begin to rave,
Serenely view the foaming Wave,
Collected in yourfelf, and refolutely brave.
Or, if you find indulgent Gales..
Impel the Bark too faſt;
Wifely contract the fwelling Sails,
And check their rapid Hafte;
Left, in your ſwift Career, the Ship-
Split on a Rock, and fink beneath the Deep.
1
An
212
POEMS
An IMITATION
Of the Sixteenth O D-E
A
Of the Second Book of HORACE,
Otium Divos rogat in patenti
Prenfus Ægeo, &c.
T
I.
HE trembling Merchant begs for Eafe,
When toft upon the foaming Seas';
When frowning Clouds obfcure the Skies,
And dreadful Thunder roars, and Lightning flies.
II.
FOR Eaſe the proud Iberians pray,
When Martial Engines round 'em play;
The mighty Turk, and Perfian too,
#
Beg Heav'n for Eafe, which Riches can't beſtow.
III.
on feveral Occafions.
213
III.
NOT filver Mines, or fhining Gold,
Nor all the Gems the Indies hold,
Nor purple Robes, nor pompous State,
Can cure the flutt'ring Cares, which vex the Great.
IV.
HAPPY the Man, whofe frugal Board
Supplies the Wiſhes of its Lord;
No Fears torment his quiet Breaft,
No fordid Av'rice breaks his grateful Reſt.
V.
WHY fhould we fo much Wealth defire,
When Life fo little will require ?
Why ſhould we rove from Zone to Zone,
And for another Climate change our own?
VI.
Nor thoſe, who fly from Pole to Pole,
Can fly the Cares, which rack the Soul;
But, in remoteſt Regions, find,
They leave their Country, not themſelves behind,
$
VII.
214
OEM S
POE
VII.
FOR, tho' we cross the briny Deep,
Corroding Care purſues the Shipy
It hunts the Horfeman cloſe behind,
More fwift than Mountain Roes, or rapid Wind...
VIII.
THE Man, contented with his State,.
Anticipates no evil Fate;
Tho' Fortune is inconftant ftill,
With what is good, he fweetens what is ill..
IX..
THE Draught of Life is mixt, at beft;
There's none can be completely bleſt :.
Some overlive their Pleafures here;
Some die, before they tafte what Pleafures arc..
X.
AGE, Wars, and Tumults, factious Hate,
Made *COTTINGTON defize his Fate;
While tender + SHEFFIELD meets his Doom-
Juſt in the Flow'r of Life, and youthful Bloom.
♦ See CLARENDON's Hiflory, Lib. 13.
† Late Duke of Buckingham.
XI,
on feveral Occafions.
2.1.5
XI:
ALL make their Exit foon or late ;:
And, if the Gods contract thy Date,
The vital Hour, deny'd to thee,.
Their more indulgent Hand may give to me..
XII.
WHAT tho' thy fruitful Paftures keep
A hundred Flocks of bleating Sheep?
What tho' thy proud, exulting Mares
Neigh, foam, and fly before thy gilded Cars P
ΧΠΙ.
THY Board tha" twenty Diſhes grace,.
Thy Coat as many Yards of Lace,.
I envy not the purple Dye,
Nor all thy gaudy Pomp of Luxury.
XIV.
I fhare fome Sparks of PHOEBUs' Fire,.
To warm my Breaft, if not inſpire;
Too little Wealth to make me proud,
And Senfe enough to fcorn the envious Crowd..
AR:
216
PQE M S
f
An IMITATION
Of the Sixteenth ODE
Of the Third Book of HoRa c E.
Inclufam DANA EN turris ahenea,
Robuftaque fores, &c.
A
To the Reverend Mr. STANLEY.
ELIEVE me, Sir, your Coft and Cares,
BR
Your Dogs and Locks, your Bolts and Bars,
Your Palifades, and Walls of Brafs,
Are all too weak, when Gold attacks the Place.
A brazen Tow'r ACRISIUS rear'd;
A brazen Tow'r, he thought, would guard.
His Daughter from the leach'rous Arms
Of thoſe who nightly fought her Charms;
While furly Maftiffs watch'd the Dame,
And thund'ring, told if Lovers came :
Theſe kept the Nymph from Gods and Men,
Not Jove himſelf could enter in ;
Till VENUS (wondrous to behold!)
Transform'd his Godſhip into Gold.
on feveral Occafions.
217
O STANLEY, STANLEY! Gold has Pow'r
The fterneſt Heart to move,
To burſt the Wall, or pierce the Tow'r,
Impervious ev'n to Jove.
Gold can the fubtleft Head deceive,
Or Peace, or War can bring,
Buy Votes, raiſe Gallic Arms, and give
The Polanders a King.
APOLLO knew the Force of Gold,
When PHILIP's Martial Fate he thus foretold:
"The ſharpeſt Lance of Steel may err,
"So may the fureft Bow;
"But know, O King, the Golden Spear
"Will vanquish ev'ry Foe."
The God's Advice the Prince purfu'd;
He fought with Gold, and Gold fubdu'd;
Whence fome Hiftorians fay, 'twas this,
And not young AмMON's Father, conquer'd Greece,
Gold has an abfolute Command;
It rules at Sea, as well as Land :
For, when two adverſe Fleets engage,
And fiery Tubes difplode their Rage;
A Bribe can make their Thunder ceaſe,
And huſh the watry World to Peace.
Yet,
218 POEMS
Yet, notwithſtanding all its Force,
It often brings the greateſt Curſe :
Vexatious Cares and Diſcontents
Increafing Gold attend ;
Defires enlarge, as Wealth augments,
For Av❜rice knows no End.
We labour up the golden Hill with Pain;
But ne'er furmount the tow'ring Alps of Gaina
O STANLEY, Honour of my Mufe!
I fear, and juftly fear,.
To fteer the Courfe Ambition fhews,
Or foar beyond my Sphere.
He's poor, who always after Wealth afpires ;
He's rich, who always curbs his own Defires.
more admire an humble Seat,
Than all the Pomps, which vex the Great ;;
And from their gilded Roofs retire,.
On Iſis Banks to tune my Lyre.
In this Retreat I'm nobler blefs'd,
Then CROESUs e'er could be,
Than if (like Mifers) I poffefs'd
Auealthy Poverty,
While
1
•
1
on Several Occafions.
219
While favour'd by the 'beft of Queens,
Who all my Wants fupplies;
While fragrant Groves, and flow'ry Scenes,
Delight my Mufe's Eyes;
My Fate a far fuperior Bleffing brings,
Than all the Pageantry of Eaftern Kings.
What tho' no Flocks, on Richmond Plain,
With Fleeces deck my Pride?
What tho' I feldom drink Champagne,
Or quaff the purple Tide?
If theſe I wanted, were your Bard to ask,
I know, your gen'rous. Soul would fend a Cafk
I MAKE my 'Wants and Wealth agree;
1
pay my Debts no worſe than he,
Who o'er the Seas extends his Reign,
And adds all Sicily to Spain.
Who covets moſt, is moſt in Need,
And always rides a reftlefs Steed,
Which foams, and flies without Controul,
Still feeks, but ne'er obtains the Goal.
$
$
Then
220
OEM S
РОЕ
Then happy thofe, whom Heav'n has blefs'd,
With what may Life fuftain;
Nor are with pinching Want deprefs'd,
Nor curft with too much Gain:
For boundleſs Wealth ne'er fills a boundleſs Mind;
The Man who fill purfues, is ftill behind.
************
Felix, qui patriis ævum tranfegit in agris,
Ipfa domus puerum quem videt, ipfa fenem, &c.
Imitated from CLAUDIA N.
I
OW blefs'd the Swain of Bethnal-green,
HⓇ
Who ne'er a Court beheld,
Nor ever rov'd beyond the Scene
Of his paternal Field!
II.
BUT, where he prov'd the Go-cart's Aid,
He prov'd the Crutch's too;
One only Houſe his Manfion made,
Till Life (tho' late) withdrew.
4
III.
out Several Occafions.
221
III.
FALSE Fortune ne'er, with Smile or Frown,
Or rais'd him, or depreft;
Her Frowns and Smiles were both unknown
To his contented Breaft.
IV.
THE Chance of Stocks he never try'd,
Nor knew to buy or fell ;
So 'fcap'd the dreadful golden Tide,
Where South-Sea Merchants fell,
V.
SKILL'D in no Bufinefs but his own,
He fhunn'd the noiſy Bar;
Nor ever prov'd the fmoky Town,
But breath'd a purer Air.
VI.
NOR by a Lord Mayor's Day he knew
The rolling Year to bound;
Nor kept an Almanack to fhew
How Seaſons vary'd rouud.
VII.
222.
POEM S
VIL
HE Summer knew by Heat extreme,
The Winter by its Cold;
POMONA fhew'd when Autumn came,
When Spring, gay FLORA told.
VIII.
HE planted once an Acorn ſmall,
And liv'd to ſee it-riſe
A mighty Oak, fo wond'rous tall,
It ſeem'd to prop the Skies.
IX.
AND, by the Shade its Branches caft,
Could he much truer know,
What Hour, and how his Moments paft,
Than by the Clock of Bow.
X.
THO' London ftood fo near his Cot,
He never mark'd the Dome -;
But thought St. Paul's as far remote,
As Peter's Church at Rome.
1
XL.
on Several Occafions.
223
Or Iis he was only told,
XI.
But ne'er beheld her Streams;
Nor knew, but that the Ganges roll'd
Near as the neighb'ring Thames.
XII.
OF Jellies, Creams, Ragous, and Tarts,
His Stomach never thought;
A perfect Stranger to the Arts
Luxurious Cooks have taught !
XIII.
YET, with a fimple Food fupply'd,
His Health was fo entire,
That when his antient Children dy'd,
They left a youthful Sire.
XIV.
LET others fearch for golden Bliſs
On India's wealthy Shore;
Their Joys of Life are leſs than his,
Their Labours ten times more.
L
Of
224
POEMS
O
Of FRIENDSHIP.
To CELI A.
CELIA! You, whofe Rays of friendly Fire,
Conftant as thoſe of Nature, ne'er expire;
If in your Breaſt no weighty Cares you find,
Nor better Thoughts employ your gen'rous Mind;
Vouchſafe an Ear: Theſe Numbers are your
Due;
I fing of Friendship, and I fing to You :
Friendship! a Theme, which all Mankind profeſs,
No Virtue more admire, none practiſe leſs;
For moſt have learn'd the Grecian * Sage's Text,
"To love one Day, as if to hate the next."
They change, forfake, as ferves their ſelfiſh Ends,
Nor are their Dreffes vary'd more than Friends.
You therefore, who are worthy Friendship's Name,
And cheriſh in your Breaft the genuine Flame,
* BIAS, in CICERO de Amic. § 16.
Attend
on feveral Occafions.
225
Attend to what a faithful Mufe imparts,
A Mufe unpractis'd in fallacious Arts:
'Tho' young in Life, that Life has made her know,
A friendly Afpect oft conceals a Foe;
That, tho' fo many feeming Friends abound,
For one that's true, a thouſand falſe arc found.
WHEN first you ftrive a faithful Friend to find,
Explore the ſecret Motives of his Mind;
Nor, rafhly credulous, his Friendſhip truſt,
Before you know, what Paffion rules him moft:
But, as a Horfeman checks the Courfer's Speed,
'Till he has try'd the Temper of his Steed;
So check the Reins of Friendſhip, till you prove,
What ſways the Perfon, Intereft, or Love.
AVOID the Fop impertinently vain,
And fhun the Slave, who flatters you for Gain;
Beware of him, who fells you for a Jeft;
But, most of all, beware the leaky Breaft :
(Who hopes to keep the Wine the Seaſon round,
Muſt firſt be ſure his Cafk be fweet and found-)
Nor fhould a formal Fool your Friendship claim,
Tho' Wealth and Honours dignify his Name.
L2
Let
226
POEMS
Let Knaves and Fools in kindred Vices join;
Chufe you a Friend, where Senfe and Virtue fhine;
Whofe Paffions move by Reaſon's Rule alone,
Much better, if agreeing with your own.
The Hart and Lion at a Diſtance keep;
Wolves company with Wolves, and Sheep with Sheep:
So we, by Nature's fympathetic Pow'rs,
Moft love thofe Tempers, that refemble ours.
YET, if it be too difficult to find
A Friend fo justly moulded to your Mind,
Among the virtuous Few ſelect the beſt;
And fuch is he, whofe Failings are the leaft:
Let him a modeft Freedom always claim,
To praiſe your Virtues, or your Vices blame;
Nor be difpleas'd his mild Reproof to hear;
For Friends may often kindly be fevere;
The Beſt ſometimes each other may controul,
Yet not destroy the Harmony of Soul.
Rough Notes in Muſic never ſhould be found,
Except adapted to improve the Sound.
WHEN mutual Faith the friendly Knot has ty'd,
And when that mutual Faith is truly try'd,
4
Prey
on feveral Occafions.
227
}
Prey not upon yourſelf; nor be oppreſt
With conſcious Pains, that ſtruggle in your Breaft:
For, as the Flames, in Etna cloſely pent,
Convulfe the Mountain, lab'ring for a Vent;
Thus in the Soul uneafy Thoughts confin'd,
For want of Paffage, rack the fuff'ring Mind.
Unveil your Bofom to your other Part;
Your Friend fhall fhare the Burden of your Heart,
Alleviate ev'ry Ill your Soul fuftains,
Double your Pleaſures, and divide your Pains.
BE zealous for your Friends, whene'er you know
Their Reputation cenfur'd by a Foe
;
Nor with a faint Excufe degrade your Friends;
The Man, who coldly praiſes, diſcommends.
Or, are they justly cenfur'd for a Crime?
Reprove them mildly at fome proper Time:
In privatc chide all Failings which you find,
In public praiſe the Beauties of their Mind;
Place all their Virtues in the cleareft Light,
Omit their Faults, or touch them very flight;
As Painters, when they draw a beauteous Face,
Contract a Blemish, heighten ev'ry Grace.
L 3
NEITHER
228
POEMS
NEITHER let Paffion, Pride, or private Ends,
Or changing Fortune, make you change your Friends.
Who varies oft, a faithlefs Temper fhows,
Or, at the beſt, ill Judgment, when he chofe.
Some Perfons with themfelves fo difagree,
They're fix'd to nothing but Inconftancy;
With each new Day, new Reſolutions come,
Expel the former, and ufurp their Room :
Suceeding Billows thus the foremoſt throng,
Tides roll on Tides, and Waves urge Waves along.
Not but we may with a new Friend engage,
Before we ſee an old one quit the Stage;
Yet fhould not think the new our old exceeds,
As * Jockeys value moſt their youngeſt Steeds.
One Maxim will in Wine and Friendſhip hold,
Alike the better both for being old.
BUT must we then be bound in deathleſs Bands,
And ſtill obey whate'er a Friend commands?
Aid him to gain what he unjustly craves ?
No-Leave the Man, who Truth and Virtue leaves.
* Ut equis vetulis teneros anteponere folemus
(ut ca vina, quæ vetuftatem ferunt) effe debent fuaviffima.
1
Should
Veterrima quæque
Cic. de. Amic. § 19.
on feveral Occafions.
229
}
Should furious CATILINE fome Plot devife,
To ruin Thoufands, that himſelf might rife;
The Laws of Honour, Truth, and Confcience fhow,
"Tis Friendship to the World to be his Foe.
Or, ſhould a Friend bafely betray his Truft,
To pardon him were to yourſelf unjuſt :
For,
* as the Wool, with Crimſon colour'd o'er,
Never acquires its native Whiteneſs more;
So he who breaks his Faith, will ne'er obtain
Your Credit, nor his Innocence again.
If otherwiſe he diſoblige his Friends,
(For where's the perfect Man, who ne'er offends ?)
Try if his Ear will kind Reproof endure;
And, if the Balm of Counſel work a Cure,
O'erlook the Failure: All offend, and live;
Let Foes refent a Trefpafs, Friends forgive.
Yet let the pardon'd Friend not, many times,
Proceed in Folly, and repeat his Crimes.
Tho' pureft Gold a vaft Extent will bear,
Yet pureft Gold will break, if ftretch'd too far:
Neque amiffos colores
Lana refert medicata fuco;
Nec vera virtus, cum femel excidit,
Curat reponi deterioribus.
L 4
Hor. Ode 5. Lib. III.
And
230
POEM S
And Friends may bear fome Slips from Wiſdom's Rule ;
But who can pardon the perfifting Fool?
* AMONG the various Cauſes, that confpire
To cool our Love, and quench the friendly Fire,
Vile Avarice affumes the greateſt Pow'r,
A God which bafe ignoble Souls adore :
To pleaſure him, a Tide of broken Vows
(Needful Libations!) on his Altar flows:
Yet, never fatisfy'd, he craves for more;
And keeps his Votaries, in Plenty, poor:
Who 'worſhips him, will break the friendly Bands,
Whene'er the fordid, felfifh God commands.
OTHERS there are, induc'd by Thirft of Praiſe,
(And ev❜n the greateſt Men this Paffion ſways)
Who quit their Friends for Honours of the State,
And turn their Love into the rankeſt Hate.
Nor is it Wonder thefe defert their Friends,
Since all are Foes, who will not ferve their Ends:
For
* Peflem enim majorem effe nullam in amicitiis, quam in plerisque pecuniæ
eupiditatem, in optimis quibusque honoris certamen & gloriæ, ex quo inimicitias
maximas fæpe inter amiciffimos extitiffe. Cic. de Amic. §. 10.
on feveral Occafions.
231
For wild Ambition like a Torrent roars,
Which, when obftructed, climbs th' oppofing Shores;
"Till to the Top the lab'ring Flood attains,
Swells o'er the Banks, and foams along the Plains.
Not but we may an honeſt Fame embrace;
Nay, Friends fhould aid us in the glorious Chace.
Man has ſome Principle of heav'nly Fire,
That warms his Breaft, and prompts him to aſpire;
Wakes him to Actions of fuperior Kind,
And keeps alive the Faculties of Mind;
For Sloth begets a Lethargy of Soul,
As Want of Motion taints the cleareft Pool:
Yet, if, too fond and covetous of Fame,
We blow that native Spark into a Flame,
It quickly rifes to a fiery Storm,
And burns the Fabric 'twas defign'd to warm.
What Bands of Nature can reftrain its Courfe?
What friendly Offices fupprefs its Force?
See how its Rage the young * Numidian fires,
The worst of Children to the beſt of Sires!
Deep, thro' his Brother's Blood, he wades his Way,
And leaps o'er Gratitude to Regal Sway.
L 5
JUGURTHA.
Young
232
M S
POE
Young CESAR's Tutor by his Pupil dies,
;
While TL. Y falls by him he help'd to rife
F...
Fotos, Fathers, Brothers, Uncles, yield to Fate,
To make three Tyrants infamoufly great!
!
O grant me, gracious Heav'n, where-e'er I go,
To be a faithful Friend, or gen'rous Foe;
Nor let me pant fo much for empty Praiſe,
As to obtain it by difhoneft Ways;
Nor wrong my Friend, tho' 'twere to gain a Throne ;
Nor ruin others Fame to raiſe my own.
He who is only learn'd in Books, will find
A harder Leffon, when he learns Mankind;
A Volume gilded o'er with fmiling Art,
Where few can read the Meaning of the Heart.
We often take our Flatterers for Friends;
One would fufpect the Man who ftill commends;
Who, like the Sharper in the Roman Play,
Or right or wrong, affents to all you fay;
Bends here or there, which way his Lord's inclin'd,
As Reeds fubmit to ev'ry diff'rent Wind.
Nor is it ftrange fuch Parafites prevail,
When greedy Ears devour the flatt'ring Tale :
While
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233
While THRASO loves to hear his Praiſes told,
GNATHO will give him Praiſe, and take his Gold.
But you, who walk by Wiſdom's fafer Rules,
(For 'twere but Labour loft to counfel Fools)
Deteft the Wretch, who ne'er can Courage find
To ſpeak the genuine Dictates of his Mind;
But, like the Syrens fweet, pernicious Song,
At once would charm and ruin with his Tongue.
YET fome there are, in focial Bands ally'd,
Who, with blunt Truths, err on the other Side;
Void of Good-nature, and Good-breeding too,
They fourly cenfure every Thing you do.
O! never flatter ev'n a Monarch's Pride,
Nor, with the Sternness of a Cynic, chide;
But, when you would an erring Friend reprove,
Let gentle Cautions fhew, the Motive's Love:
Do not begin with Rafhnefs to exclaim;
But rather hint the Fault, before you blame.
'Tis not enough your Admonition's juft;
Prudence must guide it, or the Labour's loft:
Friends fhould allure, and charm us into Senfe:
Harth Counfels not reform, but give Offence.
L6
Nature,
234
POEMS
Nature, impatient of fevere Reproof,
Loves mild Inftruction, but abhors the rough:
As Fruits and Flow'rs improve with gentle Rain:
But fade, if rapid Storms o'erflow the Plain.
SOME Men are Friends, when Fortune fills the Sails,
And wafts you on with favourable Gales;
But quit the tott'ring Ship, and make the Shore,
When Storms deſcend, and adverſe Surges roar.
Long as in Credit, Pow'r or Place you ſtand,
Their fawning, formal Friendſhip you command:
With twenty Squeezes, and a hundred Bows,
As many Compliments, as many Vows,
They fwear your Intereft fhall be their own,
And with the Time to make it better known;
Like falfe hot Courfers, waiting for the Chace,
Which foam, and neigh, and proudly ſpurn the Grals,
Intent to run; but droop their jaded Creſt,
And fail you moft, when moft you want their Hafte.
WE make a Proftitute of Friendship's Name,
If only Complaisance fupports our Claim.
And yet there are, of this polite Degree,
Who treat you fill with forc'd Civility;
In
on feveral Occafions.
235
In each obliging Art fo well refin'd,
Tho' ever falfe, they never feem unkind.
Not that my Mufe would Decency offend;
For 'tis Good-breeding poliſhes a Friend:
Nor ſhines it leſs, with Truth and Virtue join'd,
Than comely Features with a noble Mind :
But thofe, whofe Friendſhips moſt in Speeches dwell,
Neglect the Fruit, and trifle with the Shell.
True Friendſhip more intrinfic Worth affords,
Defin'd by Actions better than by Words ;.
A warm Affection, that can never cool,
Concord of Mind, and Mufic of the Soul;
Which tunes the jarring Strings of Life to Love,
Shews Men below, how Angels live above.
There are in Friendſhip ſuch attractive Charms,
It draws Efteem from thoſe it never warms,
See how PACUVIUS' tragic Scenes could move
The People's Praiſes with fictitious Love!
When
* Qui clamores tota cavea nuper in hofpitis & amici mei M. Pacuvii nova
fabula, cum, ignorante rege, uter eorum effet Oreftes, Fylades Orelem fe effe
diceret, ut pro illo necaretur; Orefles autem, ita ut erat, Oreftem je eflè per-
kveraret ? flantes plaudebant in re fi&ta: quid arbitramur in vera fuijje fac-
turos ?
Cic. de Amic. §. 7.
*
236
POEMS
}
When on the Stage two doubtful Princes ftrive,
Each feeking Death, to keep his Friend alive :
Now PYLADES deceives the Monarch's Eye;
Faithful, yet fraudulent, refolves to die ::
ORESTES now diſplays the friendly Cheat,
Invites the threat'ning Sword, and courts his Fate:
Moy'd with their gen'rous Love, the Audience roſe;
With focial Flame each changing Bofom glows;
All feel the facred Pow'r of Friendship's Laws,
And the Stage rocks, and thunders with Applaufe.
I know the Mufe may give to fome Offence,.
(Tho' rather Men of Wit, than Men of Senſe),
Whofe Counſel is; "Be not engag'd too far;
"The greatest Friendship brings the greateſt Care :
"Our own Concerns have Plagues enough in Store ;
"Who joins in Friendſhip, only makes 'em more:
"The Cares and Troubles, which your Friend en--
"dures,
"Are all by Sympathy adopted your's.
""
WHAT bafe, ungen'rous ſelfiſh Souls are theſe?
Mere Quacks, who turn ev'n Health into Diſeaſe;
And but the darkeft Side of Friendſhip find,
To all its radiant Beams and Beauties blind.
V
Two
on feveral Occafions.
237
Two faithful Friends, in any State, may gain
Comfort to heighten Joy, or leffen Pain:
If weighty Cares the penfive Mind invade,
They make the Burden light with mutual Aid;
If Profit, or if Pleaſure chears the Soul,
The Bleffing's common, each enjoys the Whole:
If Buſineſs calls them to fome diftant Place,
Swift-pinion'd Love contracts the lengthen'd Space;
Each keeps the other's Image in his Breaft,
As Wax preferves the Form a Seal impreft.
HAIL, facred Friendship! by whofe chearing Ray
All Joys increaſe, without it fade away :
Ev'n HYMEN'S Torch, tho' burning e'er fo bright,
Aided by Friendſhip, fhines with double Light.
This you, O CELIA! by Experience find,
Whoſe Nuptial Friend lives always in your Mind:
No Length of Time, no Diſtance, ever raz'd
His lov'd Idea from your tender Breaſt :
Your friendly Flame admits of no Decays,
But glows, unclouded, with augmented Rays,
And makes your bridal Lamp much brighter blaze.
That faint, pale, languid Lamp, in Age, expires;
Except 'tis fed with Friendship's conftant Fires:
}
4
1
Thefe
238
POEM S
Thefe to the Winter of our Years extend ;
And, when the Lover cools, they warm the Friend..
When all the tranfient Joys of Youth are o'er,
When all the Charms of Beauty charm no more;
Surviving Friendſhip gives us freſh Supplies
Of lafting Bliſs, and more fubftantial Joys;
Which ſweeten all the Troubles Age has brought,
And make the Dregs of Life a cordial Draught.
******EEEEEE
An ODE, prefented to their Royal High-
neſſes the Prince and Princeſs of WALES,
in Richmond Gardens, on Thurſday,
May 6, 1736.
E Mufes, hail the Royal Dame,
YE
Whofe Charms Report excel;
Charms, brighter far than founding Fame,.
With all her Tongues, could tell.
O glorious PRINCE! Britannia's Pride,
Welcome to Richmond Seats,
}
Where Nature, proud to pleaſe your BRIDE,
Diſplays her choiceft Sweets.
See !
on feveral Occafions.
239
See fragrant Beauties deck the Green,
The Branches bloom Delight;
Gay FLORA paints the verdant Scene,
To charm your Confort's Sight.
Hear! how the feather'd warbling Throng
Congratulate your FAIR!
Not more melodious was their Song
To the first wedded Pair.
That Pair, in Eden, ne'er repos'd
Where Groves more lovely grew;
Thofe Groves, in Eden, ne'er inclos'd
A lovelier PAIR, than YOU.
You happier than the former Two,
Have nobler Taſks affign'd:
'Twas Theirs to curfe the World; but You
Were born to blefs Mankind.
$
The
240
POE M M S
****EEEEEEEE
The Two Beavers. A FABLE.
'T
Were well, my Friend, for human kind,
Would ev'ry Man his Bus'nefs mind;
In his own Orbit always move,
Nor blame, nor envy thofe above.
A Beaver, well advanc'd in Age,
By long Experience render'd fage,
Was ſkill'd in all the uſeful Arts,
And juftly deem'd a Beaſt of Parts ;
Which he apply'd (as Patriots ſhould)
In cultivating publick Good.
THIS Beaver on a certain Day,
A friendly Vifit went to pay
To a young Coufin, pert and vain,
Who often rov'd about the Plain :
With ev'ry idle Beaſt conferr'd,
Hearing, and telling what he heard.
}
The
on feveral Occafions.
241
>
The vagrant Youth was gone from home,
When th' ancient Sage approach'd his Dome;
Who each Apartment view'd with Care,
But found each wanted much Repair.
The Walls were crack'd, decay'd the Doors,
The Corn lay mouldy on the Floors;
Thro' gaping Crannies rufh'd amain
The bluft'ring Winds, with Snow and Rain;
The Timber all was rotten grown,
In ſhort, the Houfe was tumbling down.
The gen'rous Beaft, by Pity fway'd,
Griev'd to behold it thus decay'd;
And while he mourn'd the tatter'd Scene,
The Mafter of the Lodge came in.
THE firft Congratulations o'er,
They reft recumbent on the Floor;
When thus the young conceited Beaft
His Thoughts impertinent expreſs'd,
I LONG have been furpriz'd to find,
The Lion grown fo wond'rous kind
To one peculiar fort of Beaſts,
While he another fort detefts;
i
Flis
242
POEMS
His royal Favour chiefly falls
Upon the Species of Jack-alls.
They ſhare the Profits of his Throne,
He ſmiles on them, and them alone.
Mean while the Ferret's uſeful Race
He ſcarce admits to fee his Face;
Traduc'd by Lies and ill Report,
They're baniſh'd from his regal Court,
And counted, over all the Plain,
Oppofers of the Lion's Reign.
Now I conceiv'd a Scheme laſt night,
Would doubtless fet this Matter right ÷
Thefe Parties fould unite together;:
The Lion partial be to neither,
But let them both his Favours fhare,
And both confult in Peace and War.
This Method (were this Method try'd);
Would ſpread politick Bafis wide,
And on a Bottom broad and ftro g,
Support the focial Union long
But, Uncle, Uncle, much I fear,
Some have abus'd the Lion's Ear;
He
on feveral Occafions.
243
He liftens to the Leopard's Tongue ;
That curfed Leopard leads him wrong:
Were he but baniſh'd far away
You don't attend to what I fay!
WHY really, Couz, the Sage rejoin'd,
The Rain and Snow, and driving Wind,
Beat thro' with fuch prodigious Force,
It made me deaf to your Diſcourſe.
Now, Couz, were my Advice purſu'd,
(And fure I mean it for your Good)
Methinks you ſhould this Houſe repair;
Be this your first and chiefeſt Care.
Your Skill the Voice of Prudence calls
To stop thefe Crannies in the Walls,
And prop the Roof before it falls.
If you this needful Tafk perform,
You'll make your Manfion dry and warm;
And we may then converfe together,
Secure from this tempeftuous Weather.
CON-
244
POEMS
ooooo
CONTENTM E N T.
Arewell afpiring Thoughts, no more
FMy Soul fhall leave the peaceful Shore,
To fail Ambition's Main ;
Fallacious as the Harlot's Kifs,
You promiſe me uncertain Bliſs,
And give me certain Pain.
A BEAUTEOUS Proſpect first you fhew,
Which, ere furvey'd, you paint anew,
And paint it wond'rous pleaſant :
This in a third is quickly loſt ;
Thus future Good we covet moft,
But ne'er enjoy the preſent.
DELUDED on from Scene to Scene,
We never end, but ftill begin,
By flatt'ring Hope betray'd;
I'm weary of the painful Chace,
Let others run this endlefs Race,
To catch a flying Shade.
LET
on feveral Occafions.
245
LET others boaft their uſeleſs Wealth;
Have I not Honeſty and Health ;
Which Riches cannot give ?
Let others to Preferment foar,
And, changing Liberty for Pow'r,
In golden Shackles live.
'Tis time, at length, I ſhould be wiſe,
'Tis time to feek fubftantial Joys;
Joys out of Fortune's Pow'r :
Wealth, Honours, Dignities and Fame,
Are Toys the blind capricious Dame
Takes from us ev'ry Hour.
COME, Confcious Virtue, fill my Breaſt,
And bring Content, thy Daughter, drefs'd
In ever-fmiling Charms :
Let facred Friendſhip too attend ;
A Friendſhip worthy of my Friend,
Such as my LELIUS warins.
WITH
246
PO È M S &c.
%
WITH theſe I'll in my Bofom make
A Bulwark Fortune cannot ſhake,
Tho' all her Storms arife;
Look down and pity gilded Slaves,
Deſpiſe Ambition's giddy Knaves,
And with the Fools were wiſe.
F IN 1 S.
کیا
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
i
3 9015 02721 4041
Ann Colgate
Horsham
Sussex
. DO NOT CIRCULATE