THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES POEMS, LYRIC AND PASTORAL. VOL. I. [Price Ten Shillings.] POEMS, LYRIC AND PASTORAL. IN TWO VOLUMES. By EDWARD PTILLIAMS, Bardd wrth Fraint a Defod Beirdd Ynys Prydain. VOL. I. Noddais i 'mryd yn adefauyn Er ynfdbyr Awen fwyn^ Tn ids ir ei riaius eirian Fy myd i gyd oedd y Gdn ; I'mhoen fyth ! am hyun o fat Un o'm Ceraint ni m carai. lOLO MORGANWG. Quodji me Lyricis vatilus inferes Suldimi feriam Jydera vert ice. HOR. LONDON: Printed, for the AUTHOR, by J. NICHOLS ; And fold by J. JOHNSON, N 72, St. Paul's Church- Yard; J. OWEN, rsi68, Piccadilly ; E. WILLIAMS, N ii, Strand; DARTON and HARVEY, Grace- church Street; by all the Bookfeilers in Bath; FLETCHER, Oxford; MERRILL, Cambridge; BROWN, and LLOYD, Brittol ; HARWARD, Cheltenham 5 and PRITCHARD, Philadelphia. 1794- PR. 3765" h/537/4 II THESE VOLUMES BY PERMISSION, AND WITH THE RESPECT OF GRATITUDE, DEDICATED TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS GEORGE PRINCE OF WALES, BYHISMOST HUMBLE SERVANT, EDWARD WILLIAMS. 733584 CONTENTS. The POEMI are in Roman Cfiara&ers ; the NOTIS in Italici. Page i. TO Laudanum * a. Rural Incidents, a Lyric Paftoral 6 3. Stanzas written in London 14 White --wajhing Houfes in Glamorgan, a very ancient If/age 17 4. Caftles in the Air -24 Re-viewers' Advice anticipated ~ 36 5. Love's Eloquence, a Song 37 6. Banks of the Daw 40 Flatv, exemplified from Shake/fear 42 7. Stoicifm 4> 8. Song 47 9. To the Cuckoo 49 Note Acvertifemental 53 10. Advice to a Whining Lover 54 n. The Reapers, a Paftoral 58 12. Love Triumphant 64. 13. Written at the Clofe of Autumn 67 A 4 14. The viii ] Page 1$. The Fair Pilgrim 74 St. David, Tutelary Saint of Wale; 74 Menai Frith and Snoivdon Mountains 76 Tract A Maiur, ^uickfands 77 Cantre V Gzuaeloa', overflown, and deftroyed by the Sea 78 Cyn'c, Patron Saint of Weljh Mariners 79 DyJJyni River 79 Superftitious Courage of old Weljh Pilgrims 80 Ceredig, an ancient Weljb Prince 8 1 Menevia, or St. David's, Pilgrimages t - 8 a The Sard's compliments to their Htlinejfts the Popes of all Jeffs 83 15. Learned Ignorants, a Song 8 16. Sadnefs 91 17. The Swain of the Mountains 91 On the charaflerijlics of Wclfo Poetry 95 18. Hymn to Health 97 19. Infcription to the Memory of Lord Chatham 103 20. On Religion 104 21. Epigram 109 22. Deceitful Celia, a Paftoral Ballad no 23. Epitaph on a Poet 115 24. O;i Penlline Cattle 116 Note on Ditto 1 1 6 Rebuilt by Mifs Gwinnette 1 1 7 25. Break of Day, a Paftoral Song 118 26. Winter Incidents 121 3 27. Damon's Page 37. Damon's Farewell, a Song 129 28. Liberty, a Song ; . 132 29. On Love 135 30. Power or Innocence 141 31. Solitude. From the Welfh 142 JVWfer vat ions on P after al Poetry 17 j Requisites of Poetical Genius^ from the Weljh Poetic T nodes 175 41. True Happineis 177 42. The Thrum J 79 43. Contenr, a Lyric Paftoral j 82 Wheat bloom noticed 183 44. Song j6 45. The Parting, a Lyric Pa floral 187 On the Lyric Pajloral 1 0,0 A 5 46. To C * ] Page 46. To Ivor the Liberal 192 Account of him and his Bard, D. G. igz Nudtt, Mordaf, and Rhyddercb, the three liberal Princes of ancient Britain 194 Arthur, account of 195 Account of Wennallt 196 Farther account of Ivor the Liberal 197 Aneurin t an ancient Bard, account of *97 47. The Songfler, a Song 199 48. On the Approach of Winter 201 ^Torpid Swallows found in Winter in a cave near Dunraven Caftle in Glamorgan 203 49. The Power of Love, a Song 206 50. Davona's Vale 209 Davoxa ri-ver, account of 31$ THESS PREFACE. JVlY little publication appears after a pretty long delay. Some obftacles occurred from the nature of my fituation in life : thele were unavoidable, but moftly unforefeen ; others were thrown in my way . by the mean machinations of Envy, that appears to have been hurt at the fuccefs and valuable frienrliliij s that, for a little while, I met with at the opening of my fubfcription. I had unfortunately, or rather foolifhly, repoftd confidence in ibme that I once thought my friends , they became thus poffefled of the knov%- ledge how and where to. injure me and they did it let them enjoy it* 1 had, and ftill have, an intention of going to Ame- rica, partly to fly from the numerous injuries I have received from the boafted laws of th'is land, that are not, .whatever one REEVES, or his brother gear- monger, of Holborn-Hill, may fay, made equally for the poor as for the rich; and hardly an intlap.ce can be produced, where a poor man, unbacked by wealthy friends, ever obtained juftice in our Law- Courts. Another motive is to a certain the truth of an opinion, prevalent in Wales, on good authority, A 6 that C that there are ftill exifting, in the interior parts of the American Continent, the remains of a Weljh Colony that went over there in the twelfth Century under the conduct of Madoc, the fon of Owen Gioynedd, Prince of Wales. Some frivolous anecdote-hunter inferted nn account of my intention in one of the Bath Papers, whence it was copied, in moft of the London and many of the Country papers, with an attention that furprized me, on fo trifling a fubjecl:. My enemies made a very good handle of this for the dagger that was now drawn againft me : a report was, whifperingly, circulated, that my Poems were not at the prefs ; that I was going (fome faid 1 was gone) to America, with my iubfcribers' money in iny pocket. It was long before I heard any thing of this rumour, which acquired ibme colour from my work not appearing at the time that I had ralhly pro- miled it ; for, I was as ignorant of the nature of my undertaking, and of the printing bufinefs, as any one can well be. I was dilatory from other caufes alfo : I was far from home and my family, where all my little portion of happinefs was centered : F was alib confcious of the numerous defects and crudities of my pieces, which made me frequently linger over them befo-e I would put them to the prefs, whilft a dejedtion thus occafioned difqualified me for making iome amendments that I faw fo very requifite. There were gentlemen of the firfl abilities that would have afiilted nae j but I could not think of accepting their very [ ii 3 very kind offers ; for, I was from the beginning de- termined not to put the leaft impofition on the pub- lic, but to give them the real unlbphi (Heated produc- tions of the felf '-tutored Journeyman Mafon : under fuch a mental depreffion, I am convinced, that I have fometimes rather injured than improved my pieces. Some may not admit thefe things as an apology ; but they were occalioned by fenfibilities that I am not afliamed of: and all will not blame me. About November 1792, I had printed my Poems as far as half the fecond volume, my little flock of cafh failed, and I had not the courage to mention this to my printer ; who, from what I have fince expe- rienced, would have been my friend, on this occa- fion. I informed my friends (why do I call them fo f ) of this : they had, unfolicited, promifed affiftance to me, if necefiary, had even urged me to apply for it without any fcruple; but all was filence; fubfcrip- tions that, in fome places, had been collected for me were with-held. I did not yet fee the caufe. I wro&l an account of thefe things to Mrs. and Mifs HARRIET BOWDLER, of Bath ; and thefe moft amiably benevo- lent Ladies, to whom I had before been under a thouiand obligations of the firft magnitude, fupplied me with what I wanted as foon as the poft could bring it. I am on fimilar occafions under the fame obligations to my excellent friends in London, Mr. OWEN JONES and Mr. WILLIAM OWEN. Thefe Ladies and Gentlemen will difpenfe with thofe com- mon-place phrafes that exprefs bypocrify rather than gratitude. Every Every thing would have been very well now, and my Poems would foon have appeared; but for, what I had always dreaded, an account of the death of one of my dear cbildien, a favourite little gi/'l, with whom went more by far of the joys of my life than can ever be recovered in this world. I went home immediately, and there, for eight or nine months, I remained. I forgive every thing to my enemies but their having been the menus of detain- ing me from home when my pretty little infant was in the hour of death calling upon me. There are a few, and they are of the molt valuable part of man- kind, to whom this circumftance will be no bad apo- logy for the additional year of delay: I would not U have been thus querulous, but that an apology was due to my fubfcribers ; and what could it be but the truth ? To thofe numerous Ladies and Gentlemen, by whom I have been thus patronized^ I am, and mail be through life, gratefully thankfulj and I truft that none will be offended at me for printing the names of my moft diflinguiflied friends in Italics, with now and then an &V. Their number was too great to be ofherwife thanked in this place. Some of my beil friends have urged me to give ibme anecdotes of my life. 1 have little of any thing to fay worth notice on this occafion. I was fo very unhealthy whilft a child (and I have continued fo), that it was thought uielefs to put me to fchool,. where [ XV ] where my three brothers were kept for many years. I learned the alphabet before I can well remember, by feeing my father infcribe grave-Hones. Lvly mo- ther, whofe maiden name was MATTHEWS, was the daughter of a gentleman who had waited a pretty fortune : fhe had been well educated ; (lie taught me to read in a volume of Songs, intituled 7Ae focal RTifcellany ; for, I could not be prevailed upon to be taught from any other book. My mother- fang agree- ably, and I underftood that (he learned her fongs from this book, which made me fo very deilrous of learning it. This I did in a fliort time, and hence, I doubt not, my original turn for poetry. There is no truth in that old adage, ioeta nafcitur, nonjit j for, I will venture to fay, that a Poetical and every other Genius is made by ibme accident in early life, ma- king an indelible impreffion on the tender mind of infancy. I could buy no books : there was not at this time a fingle bo* kfeller, except itinerant-, that fold Welfh booksjin.al) Wales. The whole of my (or rather my mother's) little library confifted of *!ie Bible, Come of Pope's works. Lintott's Mi/cellany, Stftle's Mifcellany^ Randolphs Poems, MiJfon s Poetical Worts, a few vo- lumes of the Spefiator, Tfatler^ and Guardian^ The Whole Duty of Man, Browne's Religio MedzcL> and Gelding's Tranjlation of Ovid's MeiamwpJ.ofes, in the black Jetter, which 1 foon was able to read ; and, with thefe, two or three books of arithmetic which, [ xvi ] ^ my mother procured for me ; and it was me that taught me to yuri/e, and the firft five or fix rules of arithmetic, with fomething of mujic. My firft attempts in Poetry were in Welfh, that being the country vernaculum, though Englifh was the language of my father's houfe. In 1770, my beft of mothers died ; I was then, though twenty- three years of age, as ignorant of the world almofl as a new-born child j this I gradually found by wo- ful experience. I had worked at my father's trade fince I was nine years of age ; but I never, from a child, alfociated with thofe of my age, never learned their diverfions. I returned every night to my mo- ther's fire-fide, where I talked or read with her ; if ever I walked out, it was by myfelf in unfrequented places, woods, the fea-fliore, &c. for I was very penfive, melancholy, and very ftupid, as all but my mother thought ; when a chearful fit occurred, it was wild extravagance generally. After my mother's death I could no longer be happy at home, where fhe was never more to be feen I rambled for fome years over a great part of Eng- land and Wales; my ftudies were, during this time, chiefly Architetture, and the other fciences that my trade required. In 1773, I went into Kent, where I flayed for near four years. I had been two or three years in London, Bri/lol, &c. a return to rural objecls had a.pleafing and powerful effect on my mind ; this, and meeting with Df , Ai K i n 's EJJtys on Seng-writing, which [ xvii ] which gave me much pleafure, revived my poetical tafte, and I wrote many of the pieces contained in thefe volumes in Kent. In 1777, I returned to London, and foon after into Wales ; and a reftora- tion to the fcenes of youth preferved and heightened my paffion for poetry. In 1 781, 1 married, and gra- dually, as my family increafed, was obliged to de- cline my hitherto pleating ftudy. In 1790, the ge- neral election fupplied me with an occafion to fcrib- ble fome trifles which introduced my verfes into fome notice, and I was encouraged to print them by fubfcription, I thus became fupplied with every would-be literary fool's apology for expofing myfelf to public ridicule; the Advice of Friends. This I ima- gine is more than enough of my hiftory ; it is of no importance to any one to know how many ftones I hewed, or on how many grave-ftones I have inscribed vile doggrel. Anecdotes of original impreffions on the human mind may b of fome philofophical ufe ; and I have here honeflly given my own. Unavoida- ble egotifms will be pardoned. I repeat once more, that there is not in thefe vo- lumes a (ingle line or epithet that is not my own: whenever a fault has been pointed out, or an im- provement fuggeited, the removal of one, and the accomplishment of the other, was always my own at- tempt ; for, as I before obferved, I would not impofe on the public on one hand, and I would exerciic my own faculties on the othert Corrections and improve- ments [ xvili ] ftients by fuperior learning and abilities are faid to> have taken place in fome productions of felf-cultiva- ted Genius that have appeared ; this is very repre- henfible ; Philofophers read thefe things, and they fhould not be deceived, for the fake of inveftigating the properties and powers of the hximan mind under all circumllances, advantages, and difadvantages, ra- ther than for any intrinfic merit that thefe our crude fcribblings poiTefs. Some of my beft pieces are ftill unprinted, as I could not in time recover copies from thole to whom I had lent them, not having kept duplicates. I am forry for this, but I cannot help it ; my beft pieces were certainly due to my fubfcribers ; but to delay the work longer could not be done with any pro- priety. The Etymology of Britain, in one of my notes, is my own ; and, I will venture to fay, the true one : in- deed, thia has been very freely acknowleged by the beft Weljh Critics \ yet, very ftrange ! it has never be- fore appeared, unlefs lately from my communications. I have in feveral places aimed at rectifying fome miftakes of modern IVelJli Hiftorians, gentlemen (if they may be fo called) onocotifcience,who are partial to every thing but Truth. The true hiftory of the Ancient Weljh Bards is wilfully fupprefled in favour of the wildeft pieconcepiions and ^binrdeft theories that could ever enter the brain of the molt barbarous Goth. I have 3 I have fome general, but no pel-final, fatire j there is too much Prieflcraft amongft every feel ; too much Kingcraft in all, even Republican, Governments ; yet there are many good Prlejls ; and, I believe, a brace of good Kings nay be found; at leail I will venture on One*, I have always, with an Ancient Briton's warm pride t preferved the freedom of my thoughts, and the in- dependence of iny mind : thefe (hall not be fubjected to any thing but my own confcience. Wherever I meet vrhhjccundrelifin, though captained by ever fo GREAT A NAME, my pen fhall have all the liberty of my fentiments ; I poflefs a trade, and, in that, indepen- dence. I doubt not but that numberlefs errors of judgement may be found in fome things that I have written. Other things may be deemed imprudent ; but prudence asd confcience never walk hand in hand. The merit that my Poems poflefs is very little in- deed, but I hope that they have no taint of that im- morality ihat Iweeps, a powerful deluge, over the world ; I have declared myfelf the friend of Peace, Benevtence t Liberty, and the tranfcendently lovely Chrijlian Religion. Why is it prefutnptuous in me to hope that my fentiments may diffufe for a little while a feeble glimmer of glow-worm light over a very fmall part of the world ? Who knows but that in the bright conftellation of ftars or' the firft magnitude, * Our Welfh Bard probably means the KINO OF KINGS. Printer's Devil. that J that now illumine the Horizon of Truth, I may be one of the feebleft ; at leaft I would not for the world be a cloud in it : to thefe fentiments I have fa- crificed more than can yet be made known of that vile infernal fluff called Prudence, that, though mif- nomered a virtue, is always infallibly charafterillic of a knave or ajlave. The account of the Bardic Triades was drawn up in great hade, and under anxieties that admitted of no cool attention : this was, at the defire of fome friends, fubftituted in the room of the poems that were intended originally : I too late obferve it full of inaccuracies and blocltheadifmf. The originals of thefe Triades are in the Silurian (which is the moft ancient) dialed and orthography. I mention this to obviate the carpings of thofe who, properly fpcaking, know no dialeft. The Silurian differs in many particulars from the Biblical dialect of modern writers. To attempt an iuveftigation of the true fenfe of the very obfcure term Abred would have required a longer diflertation than I had room for j and, probably, my abilities would have failed me. I have in one paffage mentioned a qualified finfe in which the ChriRian Bards and Druic/s believed the Metetnpjyckt/is : this was, that the depraved Ibul of man paii'es in a flate' beyond the grave into progref- five modes of exigence correfponding with the na- tures of Earthly worms and brutes, into whojn, in the literal fenfe, the Aboriginal or Patriarchal Druids believed 3 believed it pafled, TALIESIN places thi$ proba- tionary, diveftigating, or purifying, Metcmpfyckofis in the Hell of Chriftianity, whence the foul gradually rifes again to Felicity, the way for it having been opened by Jefus Chriji; for, this is his obvious meau- i-ng, where he fays, Nifer afuantyn angJiyffrcd Uffern oer giuaredred Hyd bumoes Byd, Hyd pan ddillyngwys Crift gaetbiiaed O ddyfnfais off-ivy s A bred, Maint dyddwg Duvv tr Mr. AJy Mifs Aubrey Jtb* Aikin, M. D. &c. George Edw. Allen, Efq. Mifs Aldf'-vorth Rev. Chrifl. Anjley, A. M. Chrlftopber Anjley, Eiq. &c. | Arthur Anftey, Efq. Captain Aujley Mtfs Anjtey Sir VVilliism Andre Mr. Andre Mifs Atidie iVlifs Louifa Andre Arthur Anneiley, Efq. I.ADY ARCHER Mr. Arding, Mer.ton Col- lege, Oxon Mr. Thomas Arro-iu Samuel Athaws, Efq. VUL. I. Mr. Bacon, Statuary Edward Bates, Efq. Mi is Bateman Winthrop Baldwin, Efq. Mrs. Bail, 2 fets, &c. Thomas Bathnrft, Efq. Rev. jair.es Bannifter [ohn Balfett, Efq. 'Rev Fbsotas Bo/fitt, &c. CopJeJhn IVarr Bampfjlde, Efq, Mr. Baker, Baliol Col- lege, Oxfoid b R ev . [ xxvi ] Rev. Mr. Baxter, A. M Fellow of Jeius College Oxford Mrs. Earbauld Mrs. Barrett, &C. Mrs. E. Barrett, &c. Mr. J. Barratt, Bookfel- ler, Bath, &cc. DUKE of BEAUFORT DUCHESS of BEAUFORT LADY BEAUMONT Richard Bevan, Efq. Mrs. Bevan John Bennet, Efq. Mrs. Belli Rev. Mr Bere Mrs. Beach Mifs Benfon Rev. Thomas Bel/bam, Tu - tor in Divinity at Hack- ney College 'Rev. Mr. Blombtrg Mrs. Bifs, &C. Samuel Boddington, Efq. Mrs. Bawdier, 12 fets, &c. Mrfs Bvwdlcr Mifs Harriet Bowdler, 1 2 lets c. John Bawdier, Efq. &c. Thomas Boivdler, lifq. &c. Rev. IV. L. 'o. Jones, Eiq. Tbeophilus Jones, Efq. Robert Jones, Efq. Fonmon Caflle Rev. Evan Jones Rev. Mr. Jones, Curate of Flimlton, &c. Mr. Morgan Jones Capt. IV. Jones, Waterford Daniel Jones, Efq. Mr. Ed. Jones, B. T. C. rlev. Henry Jones, M. A. Mifs Jones, Lifworney Rev. [ xxxi ] Rev. J. Jones, Bletchley Rev. J. Jones, A. B. Fel- low of Jefus College, Oxford Thomas Jones, Efq. Mr. Owen Jones, 6 fets,&c. JWh. //?*/, Bath Mrs. I re monger .Rev. Peter Julian, A. B. Jefus College, Oxford Rev. Hugh Jones, Lew- ifham Mr. Tho. Jones, Y Bardd Cloff Rev. D. Jones, Hackney College Mr. Edward [ohns Mr. Edward Jones, M6n Mr. Owen Jones, Man James Jones, Elq. New York Dr. Samuel Jones, Lower Dublin, Pennsylvania Mr. Incledon Mrs. Keate Mrs.Kennicott Rev. Dr. Kent Mrs. Kemeys Mr. Kinder Edward King, Efq. M>. King, Statuary, Bath Rev. Dr. Kippis, &c. Mr. Kitfon, &c. Knight, Efq. Mrs Knight Rev. Mr. Knight Rev.riceJimusKnox, D.D. Mifs Knox BISHOP of LANDAFF Rev. Benjamin Latiobe Mr. Langton Mrs. Langton Mils Diana Langton Rev, Dr, Layard, Ptebcn- dary of Worcefler Eikvard Lewis, Efq. Mifs Lee, Bath, &c. SIR J or. N T LEICESTER. Rev. Mr. Leie&Jhr Dr. Leitfom Thomas Lewis, Efq. Richard Lewis, Efq. Rev. Francis Lewis Mrs. Lewis, Crick Houfe Rev. H. LImcllin, Fellow of Jefus College, Oxf. Edmund Lechmere, Efq. Mifs Lewis John Leigh, Efq. John Lewis, B. A. Fellow of Jefus College, Oxf. Mr. Wm. Leiais, Fellow of fefus College, Oxf. John 'Llewellin, Liq. Ynys y Gerwyn, 3 fees b 4 John [ xxxii ] JohnLlewellir^Efq.Welfh St. Donats . Mrs. Lleu-ellin, Caftelle Mrs. Light, Bath Wadham Lock, Efq. Mrs. Lockwood Mrs. Long Mifs Long Thomas Low field, Efq. Maj^r Lord Mrs. Lord Rev. Richard Lloyd, Hay David Edward Lewis Lloyd, Efq. Mr. William Lloyd, Jefus College, Oxford Mr. John Lloyd Mr. Jofeph Lloyd, Book- ieller, Briftol Robt ft [ xxxvi ] LORDROMNEY LADY ROTHES Mr. R. Rofe Mr. J. Roujeau, S Robert Salufbury t Efq. Lanwern John Salufbury, Efq. Rev. Mr. Thel Efq. Fierce- field, &c. Mrs. Smithy ditto, Sec. Smith, M. D. Bath Mifs Smith, Cooper's Hill Mr. John Smith Captain Sotheby Mr. Sotheby Mifs Sotheby Mr. Gilead Spencer, Ja- maica Henry Stephens, Efq. Chavenage Houfe, Gloucetter, 2 fets Mrs. Stephens, 2 feta Mifs Martha Sutton Mils Sarah Sutton LORD SUDLEY Mrs. Surters T Tkmas [ xxxvii Thomas Manfel Talbot t Efq. *3 fets Mr. J. Tayler Mrs. Anne Taylor Philip Tbickm/e, Efq. David Thomas, Efq. D civ id Thomas : jun. Efq. Mifs Maty Thomas Edward Thomas, Efq. Robert Thomas, Efq. Pem- broke College, Oxford Thomas Thomas, A. B. Je- fus College, Oxford Rev. Wm. Thomas, Chan- cel lor of the Cathedral of Landaff Mifs Mary Thomas, Lif- vvorney, &c. Rev. Jofhua Thomas, Leominfter N. Thompfon, Efq. C. Throckmorton, M. D. Rev. Robert Thornton John Toke, Efq. John Hcrne Tooke^ Efq. &:c. J. P. Towry, Efq. William Toulmin, Efq. Hackney LADY BRIDGET TOLLE- MACHE John Tmcgood, Efq. 2 lets William Towgood, Efq. 2 lets Edmund Traberne, Efq. Lle-wellin Traherne, Elq. Captain Trigge Edmund Tyrwhitt, Efq. LORD VERNON John Faughan, Efq. Gol- den Grove, &c. ' Griffith Vaughan, Efq. Je- lus College, Oxford Mr. Van i{hau Mr. M. Viel Mrs. Vigor W HU- [ xxxviii W HUMANITY'S VVILBERFORCE GENERAL WASHING- TON Robert Watfon Wade, Eiq. Wade, Efq. Fowler Walker, Efq. Mrs. Wall Rev. Mr. Wall, Merton College, Oxford Mr. S. Ward Mrs. Walters, Ruthyn,&c. Mifs /ir/w/,"Ruthyn,&c. Rev. John Walters, Lan- dongh, &c. Mr. Henry Walters, Book- feller, Cowbridge Rev. John Walters, Frome Mr. Watfon, Saville Row Rev. Thomas Wei ls,B.D. Fellow of Worcefter College, Oxford Mrs. Weddal, &c. Samuel Whkchurch, Efq. Stephen White, Efq. Mrs. White Mifs Lydia White, &C. William White, Efq. Rev. Mr. Whaley, 2 fets Mr. Wilbraham, Chrift Church, Oxford, 2 fets Thomas Wilkins, Efq. Mr. Edward Wilkins. Lantwit Rev. Mr. Willis Rev. Mr. Williams, Matter of Cowbridge Free- School, &c. Rev. George Williams, Lantrithyd Rev. Dr. Williams, Sy- denham, c. Mrs. Williams, ditto, &c. Rev. Mr. Williams, Mai- gam Mils Williams, Lifworney Mr. W. Williams Bloom Williams, Efq. Henry Wilmot, iq. &c. Mrs. Wilmot, &c. John Wilmot, Efq. &c. Edward Wilmot, Efq. Mrs. W T ilmot Mr. Henry Porter Wilfon, Sec. T&omas Williams, Sculp- tor, Jamaica Miles Williams, Brick- layer, Jamaica John Williams, Brick- layer, Jamaica Mr. E. Williams, Book- feller, Strand, 6 lets Mr. [ xxxix ] JMr. Thomas Williams, Bookfeller, Leadenhall Street, 6 fets Mr. J. Williams, Bardd Fenllyn Mr. J. Williams, Bardd St. Athao, &c. Rev. Peter Williams Taiiefm Williams, Fiim- fton Mifs Peggy Williams, Fiimfton Mils Ann Matthews Wil- liams, Fiimfton Edward Williams, fenior, Fhmfton John Williams, Efq. Dyf- fryn Walter Wiltjhire, Efq &c. Mr. Wood, A. B. Chriit Churh, Oxford Rev. Elhanan Winchefter Mrs. Winford Mils Winford Mr. James Woodhoufc MARQUIS of WORCESTER. MARCHIONESS of WOR- CESTER Rob. Wrixon, Efq. Oriel College, Oxford Thomas Wyndbam, Efq. 3 lets Mrs. Wyndham. 3 fe^s SIR WATKIN V\'ILLIAMS WYNN, Bart. 2 fets, Mrs. Yearfly, Briflol POEMS. TO LAUDANUM. V V H I L S T, crowding on my woful hour, Fate's deep'ning glooms indignant lovv'r, And crufh my wearied foul ; Thou, Laudanum, can'ft quickly fleep My burning eyes in balmy fleep, And ev'ry grief controul. VOL. I. B 2 . Whem POEMS. When Reafon ftrives, but ftrives in vain, To banifh care, to vanquifh pain, And calm fad thoughts to reft ; Thy foothing virtues can impart A bland fenfation to my heart, And heal my wounded breaft. I 3- Whilft fell Difeafe, with rapid flame, Preys ireful on my feeble frame, Pervading ev'ry vein ; Thou canft repel the venom'd rage, The fever'd anguifh canft afluage, And blunt the tooth of Pain. 4- When wakeful Senfibility Her wrongs recounts, I fly to thee, And feel her touch no more ; At POEMS. 3 At painful Memory's loud call, 'Twas me, with fingers dipt in gall, My rankling bofom tore. 5- With foul- corroding thought opprefs'd, Whilft keen afflidion fills my breaft, And fvvells the tide of grief; ! fhed thy balm into my heart, And, plucking thence the piercing dart, Beftow thy kind relief. 6. Now Comfort fliuns my woful fight, And fad returns the fleeplefs night, In fable glooms array'd j 1 court thy pow'rs with anxious mind, And, on the down of reft reclin'd, I blefs thy lenient aid. B * 7. My 4 P O E M S. 7- My joylefs hours I wafte alone, Unpitied weep, unheeded moan, Unfriended figh forlorn ; Confign to grief my crawling years, The viftim of defponding cares, Exifting but to mourn. 8. Thou faithful friend in all my grief, In thy foft arms I find relief; In thee forget my woes : Unfeeling wafte my wint'ry day, And pafs with thee the night away, Reclin'd in foft repofe. 9- O ! ftill exert thy foothing pow'r, Till fate leads on the welcom'd hour, To bear me hence away ; To POEMS. To where purfties no ruthlefs foe, No feeling keen awakens woe, No faithlefs friends betray. 83 RURAL POEMS. RURAL INCIDEN 7 TS, A LYRIC PAS TORAL. I. W HEN early primrofes appear, And vales are deck'd with daffodils, I hail the new-reviving year, And foothing hope my bofom fills; The lambkin bleating on the plain t - The i wallow feen with gladden'd eye, The vvelcom'd cuckoo's merry ftrain, Proclaim the joyful fummer nigh. The ploughman whittling o'er the lea, The clacking of yon diftant mill, The throftle on the budding tree, The tow 'ring ftylark'g- early trill ; The POEMS. 3 The whifpers of the weftern breeze, The prattling brook that winds along ; Such fylvan founds my fancy pleafe, Supply my theme of rural fong, 3 The fruitful orchard's lovely bloom, Now ufliers in the fprightly May ; The Ikies have loft their vvint'ry gloom, The chilly gales are flown away ; Returning nightingales appear, And charm with fong the midnight hour ; And I, their melting notes to hear, Frequent my lone, fequefter'd bow'r. , ,, 4- Well-pleas'd I view the lowing herds That wanton in the clover'd vale ; And, lift'ning to the choral birds, The balm of healthful fkies inhale j B 4 Health! 8 POEMS. Health ! lovely darling of my foul, I feek thy paths with anxious heedj For thee reject the mantling bowl, And on the dairy's nectar feed. 5- When golden Morn's refulgent rays Give luftre to the dewy vale, Whilft June its rofy bloom difplays, And eglantines perfume the gale ; Let me fome lonely dell frequent, And give a loofe to glowing thought, And meditate with warm intent, The tuneful verfe with fancy fraught. 6. With fhepherds on the thymy down, I love to pafs the fummer's day, Or trace (and mark the privet blown) The fhady thicket's winding way; Be POEMS. Be thou, my lovely Delia, there, And walk with me the brake along, I'll fing to pleafe thy partial ear, Whilft love infpires th'impaffion'd fong. When lads and lafles, making hay, Chat mirthful in the verdant mead, I form for them the fportive lay, Or pipe upon my rural reed ; With rake in hand I often walk, With them along the new- mown vale, , And cheer the fwains with merry talk, And pleafe the nymphs with am'rous tale. 8. When reapers to the golden field, Hie blithfome in the buftling mon% 1 rear the mock, or fickle wield, And, gladden'd, view the ripea'd corn j B 5 io POEMS* Now, lift'ning to the rural Wit, I join the laugh of loud applaufe, Or tofs aloft the frothy cit, That dares tranfgrefs our harveft lau r s.- 9- In wealthful Autumn's ev'ning fair, When all the corn is gather'd in, I to the ruftic rout repair, And: help to fwell the cheerful din : We, that in rural toils have join'd, Now at the farmer's board regale ; The feaft enjoy with gleeful mind, And pufh about the nut-brown ale.. io. The treafures of the cultur'd field, Are in our barns with caution flot'd ;: The racy fruits our orchards yield, Heap up the winter's ample hoard ;: * - The POEMS. The balmy fweets of toiling bees, Collected are with careful hand j We fet our anxious minds at eafe, For Plenty revels in the land. When favour'd by the fcentful morn, I trace thick woods, or climb the rocks, Urge on the chace with hound and horn, And far purfue the wily fox; His nightly ravage in the fold^ The fhepherd fhall no longer dread, Acclaiming fwains fhall foon behold, The caitiff number'd with the dead. The lawns have loft their vivid hue, No flow'rets bloom, no lambkins bleat ; Yet with rejoicing eyes we view The verdure of the fpringing wheat : B 6 Revolving iz POEMS. Revolving Plenty -buds around, It fhall our future wealth difpenfe; We '11 hedge with care the precious ground, And truft it then to Providence. Now dark December's tempeft rends The frowning Ikies with dreadful ire, And, chatting with my jocund friends, i I fit befide the blazing fire : Your herds now Ihiver in the mead, Ye fwains, their urgent calls obey j, Their Heps to timely flielter lead, And deal around the fragrant hay.. Contending florms now rage around", With fnow the fields are cover'd o'er; Huge billows break with frightful found-, And roll their terrors to the fliorej, Novf POEMS. Now Nature feels a fore decay, We to the mournful fcene attend, So pafs our checquer'd years away, And in the grave our bu files end. STAN f POEMS. STANZAS WRITTEN IK LONDON IN 1775. i, W HEN the bright morn of life appears In retrofpe&ive view, I mournful dwell on vernal years, When time, unmark'd by galling cares,, On wings of pleafure flew. O blifsful hours ! ere led aftray By Fame's alluring tale; When Reafon's undifputed fway, Could ev'ry wayward thought allay ; Could o'er my heart prevail. 3- Why, POEMS. 3- Why, Cambria, did I quit thy fliore ? The fcenes I lov'd fo dear j With wounded feelings ranking fore,, 1 languifh, and thy lofs deplore, In Folly's hateful fphere* Dear native land! though thoughtlefa Pride Contemns thy peaceful plains, By Virtue's energy fupply'd, The joys of Nature (till abide Aruongft thy cheerful fvvains*- Sad Memory recalls the day, When o'er thy lawns alone, Exploring Fancy's mazy way, My Mufe firft tried her infant lay, Made firft her efforts known,. 6. Ap- 16 POEMS. 6. Applauded by th* unletter'd fwaio, She felt her pinions grow ; She pleas'd the beauties of the plain, Whilft Nature bade her fimple flrain In artlefs numbers flow. Thus, in Glamorgan's happy land, I fpent my blifsful time ; My rural bonnet playful plann'd, The novel charm of Nature fcann'd, New fubjeft of my rhyme, 2. Glamorgat, boaft thy fky ferene ; Thy health-infpiring gales ; Thy funny plains luxuriant green; * Thy graceful mountains' airy fcene ; Their wild romantic vales. 9, With POEMS. t? 9- With Nature's wealth fupremely bleft ; With peace, with plenty crovvn'd ; In thy white cots *, a cheerful gueft, Pure Joy dilates the glowing breaft, And Gladnefs fmile* around. 10. Re- * In thy white ctti."} It has, from very remote antiquity, been the cuftom in Glamorgan to whitc-wafh the houfes, not only the infides, but the outfides alfo ; and even the barns, ftables, walls of yards, gardens, &c. In a very ancient poem by fome attributed to Anturln, who lived about the year 550, we have the following pafiage : Gnaivd ym Morgan-yog ddltog dJynion, si Gwragidd meton tnatvreJd a muriatt gvoynioii. In Glamorgan the people are courteous and gentle, Married women are honoured, and the walls are white. Dafydd ab Gw'tlym, a bard that flourished about 1350, fays of Glamorgan, E gar Bardd y tvlad bardd bom, A'i givinotdd a* t bi.ii gwynton. The ^8 POEMS. 10. Receive thy Bard! he fpeeds again, With truth-replenifh'd mind, To range once more thy humble plain, And pafs through life a rural fwain, To Heav'ns high will refign'd* n. O, The Bard loves this beautiful country, its wines, and its white houfes. And in another place, invoking the Sun, he fays, 7(Jcg fort, gwna r II? n llonn, dg anntrcb y tat o-wyiwa. "Thou Sun of the bright morning, beam joyfulnefs around} and falute the white houfes of Glamorgan. Dew ab Luan Du, a Bard that wrote about 1450, fays, Alorgamvg muriate givynion* Glamorgan of the white walls. But it would be endlefs to quote all the Bards who have no- ticed this cuftom, which ftill continues. Mr. POEMS. 19 O, LenJott ! let me turn away From thee my fadden'd eyes ; With drooping foul, to grief a prey, Long have 1 fpent the joylefs day, Beneath thy tainted ikies. 12. To trace thy fcenes, why did I long To dwell with baleful art j Turn fool to pleafe thy worthlefs throng, Affect thy vice, and forely wrong The feelings of my heart ? Mr. PENRUDDOCKE WYNDHAM, in his Tour through Man- moutbfhire and Wales In the year 1781, fays, that in Glamorgaa " the houfes, walls, and out-buildings, are commonly white* " wafhed ; and there is fcarccly a cottage to be feen, which j " not regularly brufhed ever every month." P. 37, zd edit. Mr. STRUTT, from Dicdoria Sicu/ui, fays, that the Britoat white-waftied their houfes with chalk (Chronicle of England, p. 254.)- From hence it appears that the Welfh of Glanw- gan ftdl retain a very ancient Britifh cuftom. 13. See ao POEMS. 3- See Fafhion to thy dazzled crowd Her gaudy plumes difplay ; Mad vot'ries of her tinfel proud, Raife their tyrannic fliouts aloud, And urge her fov'reign fway. 14. How fhrongs around her giddy train, Blind to the charms of truth ; Vice loudly chaunts her iyren ftrain ; Exerts her wily Ikill to gain The unexperienced youth. Think not, meek child of innocence, Thy truth a merit here ; Thy blamelefs manners give offence, And coxcomb cits will recompenle Thy virtues with a fneer. 1 6. Thou POEMS. . zi 1 6. Thou muft approach vile Folly's throne ; Reluctantly be vain ; Thy confcious innocence difown ; Affect, and boaft, a vice unknown ; A guilt unpractifed feign. '7- Yet, would'ft thou call her glories thine, Tear confcience from thy heart ; With fair pretence, and deep defign, Go act, or never hope to fhine, Unfeign'd the villain's part. 1 8. Whilfl envied Virtue nobly warms Thy yet unconquer'd mind, Fly from her vile, polluting arms j Nor gaze on meretricious charms; Nor caft one look behind. 19. O 2i POEMS. 19. O fly ! nor let thy gen'rous heart, Submit to her controul : She'll foon find out its weakeft part ; Will haunt thee \vith infidious art, And fafcinate thy foul. Bright Reafon ! 'twas thy pow'rful hand Preferv'd me from the fnare, From fchemes by fell Temptation plann'd ; I heard thy call, thy mild command, And blefs'd thy guardian care. Whilft toiling on life's ruffled fea, 'Gainft adverfe Fortune's tide, Amid the ftorm I call to thee, Thou, heav'nly monitor, fhalt be My comfort and my guide. i 22. And POEMS. 22. And thou, whofe will the Heav'ns obey, i ' With Love's eternal awe, Led itill by thy celeflial ray, Bid me through life's eventful day, Live ftudious of thy law. CASTLES POEMS. CASTLES IN THE AIR. WRITTEN IN 1777. i The baftlefe fabric of a vijioit* SHAKSPEARI. jVI Y lot in life, nor blame I fate, Unborn to title or eftate, Was to procure a (lender flock, By building boufes on the rock; Bleil Providence ! for ever kind, Gave me a truth-difcerning mind ; Did to this mind the pow'rs impart, Of ufeful {kill and honeft art ; And, Pride's intrusion to prevent, Gave humbled thoughts of calm content, 4 Toil's POEMS. t$ Toil's healthful hand with eafe acquir'd Whate'er my bridled wifti defir'd ; All Nature's wants were well fupplied, Nature, with little fatisfied j Peace crown'd the labours of my day, No thorns beftrew'd my fhelter'd way ; No charms of foul-corrupting gold, Vile price for peace and virtue fold, Could e'er my cautious mind employ ; Reafon difclaim'd the guilty joy. Pow'rs, known too late, with Nature dwell, In Frailty's night-envelop'd cell, Caftled in Error's murky cloud, Where lawlefs Paffion ftorms aloud ; Mad Folly there, with varied wiles, Youth's unfufpe&ing foul beguiles ; Thence came that frantic elf Defire, On rapid pinions plum'd with fire ; Clad in the borrow'd hues of light, A Syren lovely to the fight ; VOL. I. C She *6 POEM S. She tuned -her. thoughorelaxing lay, And led my captiv\i foul away. I felt ftrange pains,. unknown before, And filenc'd Reafon rul\d no more ; A dulcet grief, a pleafing fmart, Diflrefs'd at once, and charm'd my heart ; Bewilder'd rants employ'd my tongue ; I often figh'd, and often fung ; Was oft by Fancy's gloom o'ercaft : 'Twas Love, mad Love, I found at laft, Tranfported with th' inchanting name, Fool, I began to feed the flame ; Told Celia, that my bleeding breafl Felt all her charms, and knew no reft j Told her my paffion was fincere ; And witnefb'd this with many a tear. Now Celia play'd a fkilful part, And fported with my love-fick heart ; A mutual pafllon (lie confefs'd, I thought myfclf now truly bieft ; My POEMS. 2j My joys were full j my cares were flown ; For Celia, fure, was now my own; How bleft the life with Celia fpent, In tender love, and fweet content. Alas ! young Tin/el, blithe and gay, A boafling warrior, came that way ; She faw the glitt'ring Hero come, With found of trumpet, beat of drum ; She heard him. prate, admir'd his coat ; 'Tis on fuch trifles women doat. Tinfel addrefs'd my fickle fair, And read the lover's common prayer ; Play'd with fuccefs the coxcomb's part, And dole from me my Celia's heart. Celia now yields to new delires ; A brighter flame her foul infpires ; The peaceful mafon banifh'd far", She weds th' enfanguin'd fon of war. Behold, exulting! now they come, Attended by the noify drum j C 2 High- 23 POEMS. High-fqueaking fife's harfti accents play, To celebrate the joyful day. My fighs I check, nor once upbraid ; For, fure, I loft a worthlefs maid ; Whofe heart was never form'd to prove The blifs refin'd of conftant love. How often has my anxious mind With Celia's love all blifs combin'd ; Promis'd all pleafures in her fmile ; Joys that could ev'ry care beguile. How bleft ! what happinefs divine ! To call the lovely charmer mine. Thiw, bootlefs, toil'd my bufy heart ; Warm fancies thrill'd in ev'ry part ; And, after all its labours paft, *Twas difappointed thus at lad j Hopes, that I nurs'd with wiftful care, Were only Caftles built in air ; Tow'rs, where I thought with peace to dwell, But, ruin'd foon, they downward felli I felt POEMS. 29 1 felt a momentary (hock, But landed fafe on Reafon's rock. And now, by all that '3 good, I fwore, Woman fliould trick my heart no more ; FriendQiip could foothe my cares to reft, Should reign fole monarch of my breaft ; My foul, with all it's warmth infpire, Whilft Reafon fann'd the hallow 'd fire, Rous'd up in ev'ry glowing fenfe The fervors of Benevolence : To crown my wifh, I found a few, Whofe hearts, I thought, were found and tru< , Compeers, of feeming worth poffefs'd ; I thofe with utmoft warmth carefs'd ; Gave up to thofe my thoughtlefs heart, Wide-opening ev'ry fecret part ; Banifli'd Sufpicion, that vile elf, And meafur'd others by myfelf : Detefiing views of fordid wealth, My time, my labour, and my health, C Were 3 o POEMS. Were facrific'd to ferve my friend ; I gain'd in this my lludied end ; I knew fuccefs a little while, Saw Fortune on my labours fmile'; Could often, from a fcanty flcre, Afford a penny to the poor, That bore Misfortune's galling load, In fad Affliction's thorny road. The fons of Cunning fang my praife> Well-fkill'd in Flatt'ry's wily wajs ; A well-feign'd gratitude exprefs'd j 1 ne'er perceiv'd 'twas all a ji.it. "When Flatt'ry plies her guileful art, Alas ! how falls th' unweeting heart j With confcious re&itude elate, No fnare difcovers'till too late. Thus, thoughtlefs pafs'd my fummer's day,, Till all my pence were flown away ! Chill Penury returns at lalt : I fliiver in her wint'ry blaft j Dull POEMS. 31 Dull purfe-proud clowns, rejoicing, note My fcanty meal, my thread-bare coat ; Now fall away my prudent friends, Ah ! nought remains to ferve theirends ; All chang'd, they now confpire to blame ; All join to vilify my name ; With alter'd look infult : and thofe I ferv'd the moft, were moft my foes ; Of faults, unprat^ifed faults accus'd ; By knaves, by fools, my name abus'd ; Wealth to th* approving crowd harangu'd, Said I was poor, and why not hang'd ? Such was the crime, well-prov'd on me-j Th* enormous guilt of Poverty. What art thou, Friendfliip, but a found"? A fhade in vvilder'd fancies found ; Deception's lab'riath, blindly trac'd Through life's inhofpitable wafte ; Thy golden domes, that feem'd fo fair, Were only Ca/flet $/// in air ; C 4 From 3* POEMS. From whence, a ruin'd heap around, They fell, and crufh'd me to the ground. Mirth faw my wrongs, and took my part ; She promis'd raptures to my heart ; Weil-tutorM in her fmirking fchool, I learn'd to laugh at knave and fool ; And Innocence, with peaceful breafl, Can laugh and fing, though fore deprefs'd. Now Satire came, with ti'ry pow'rs } Engag'd my thoughts ; employ'd my hours ; She feather'd Truth's unerring dart, And flung it at the rafcal's heart j Opening to view that dark retreat, Where neftled villainy complete j Pleas'd, I beheld the writhing elf, Wild agonizing in himfelf ; Pale madden'd looks the fling confefs'd, That furious tore his confcious breafl ; Whilfl, at his pain, th' obferving crowd RaU'd the farcaflic laugh aloud ; For POEMS. 33 For ev'ry knave will worry down A neighbour's vice, but not his own. Dead midnight reigns, and all around Lock'd in th* embrace of fleep profound ; Save where yon Bacchanalian voice Bids many a thoughtlefs fool rejoice j I thither fly, and bear along, The chorus of his frantic fong ; Mad Rio: roars, it's language fraught With jeft obfcene, with brutal thought ; Folly commands, and all obey, 'Till from yon Eaft the golden ray Beams on thefe hooting owls of night, Who, ftagg'ring, fly th* upbraiding light; And feek the fot's polluted bed, To lay the fuir.e-encumber'd head t There wafte, in beaftly fnores, away The genial hours of cheerful dav. Unruly Mirth, no more of thee ; Thou nurfe of rude brutality ; C 5 Vii; 34 POEMS. it, Vile frafter of the days of youth ; Mad fcoffer at the laws of Truth ; Great hard'ner of the human breaft, Be thine the dull unmeaning jeft ; Speak out, and gain thy worthlefs end ; Nor fear thy God, nor fpnre thy friend ; Enjoy thy triumphs, and defpife All that can charm the good and wife ; The itupid laugh, th' immoral fong, To thee, to thee alone, belong ; I flew to thee from rankling care, But found thy caftles built in air: Thy vile enjoyments canker'd all, Thy fpurious pleafures drench'd in gall. Bright Wifdom calls, I will obey, Will feck and trace her flow'ry way ; Her paths of pleafantnefs and peace, Strew'd with true joys that never ceafe; She (hall inftrucl my willing heart, And all her facred lore impart : She POEMS. 35 She fhall beftow thofe pure delights Of guiltlcfs days, and peaceful nights ; Calm thoughts on Truth's plain maxims bent, Heav'n's ample fource of rich content. Thus will I fpend my fpan of life, Well-fhelter'd from the ftorms of flrife ; Improve my heart on Virtue's plan, And do to all what good I can ; Nor aught, incautious, take in hand, Till confcious Duty gives command j Till feen in Truth's meridian light, The dictates of eternal Right. 'Tis true, this weak unftable heart May from its path a moment ftart; Some rebel paffion may controul, A little while, th' unguarded foul : The foot of Nature, now and then, May flip ; but fhe will rife again ; Will to her aid Religion call, To guard her from a fecond fall j C 6 An 3& POEMS; And knaves may blame, and fools may mock ; But this is building on the rock *. * This it building on the rock."\ The Author here anticipates the very good advice which all the Revicwen intend in future to give him ; that is, to build no more Ca/lles in (be Air \ but to re- turn to his trade of building houfes on the rock. And as thofe gentlemen are celebrated retailers of fecond-hand wit, he hopes they will be fo very obliging as to favour him with that (by them at leaft) very much hackneyed adage, fft fuhr ultra aepidam. OLOVE'S POEMS. 37 LOVE'S ELO d_U E N C E. A SONG. *~s F T has my fault'ring tongue eflay'd To paint my glovring heart, Whilft vivid Fancy ftrove to aid, Warm Paffion's honeft art ; But language fails, all arts are vain, Tame reas'ning falls to nought ; Nor can the fchoolmen's wit explain A lover's tender thought. 2. Say, can yon pedant's lore exprefs The language of the ftorms ? Or 3 8 'P O E M S. Or in ftiffgarb of fyftem drefs Wild Fancy's changing forms ? Attempts are vain, and vainer flill, Eflay the fons of Art ; They never can, with all their fkill, Tranllate the Lover's heart. 3- The lips may Falfliood's form difguifc, Whilft Innocence believes ', But Love and Truth have fpeaking eyes, Their language ne'er deceives ; Beware of him whofe wordy lay Thy weetlefs ear aflails; Tis fell Deceit : O, turn away ! Nor hear the Syren's tales. 4 The timid air, the fhy advance, Th' involuntary tear ; The POEMS. The tender look, the wiflful glance, Are ever found fincere : Then, Delia, read the wordlefs tale, By filence well exprefs'd ; Mark what impaffion'd looks reveal The feelings of my breaft. BANKS POEMS. BANKS OF THE DAW, WRITTEN IN 1/78. DAW. The river that runs by tit Autbtr'j native place. I. OBEDIENT, "ftveet Mufe, to thy gentle command, I lead, with warm feelings, thy numbers along; O ! bid thy fcright flame in my bofom expand i Bid all thy rich fancies replenifh my fong. 'Tis Nature all-charming this ardour infpires ; Carp on, my good Critics, I care not a ftraw; I fing what no fquare-wielding Critic admires, Wild beauty that fports on the Bank of the Daw. a. Here POEMS. Here thickets romantic, irregular meads, In order fantaftic feem fcatter'd around ; 'Tis Nature's gay plan, has a charm that exceed* All modes that in fyfrem can ever be found j This wild-winding river obferve in the vale, 'Tis Beauty's true line, which dull Art never faw, By Fancy difplay'd, where fhe warbles her tale, To the rapturous Bard on the Banki oftbt Daw. 3- No vice-haunted cities encumber this plain j No glittering domes in falfe dignity fwell ; The meek artlefs nymph, and her innocent fwain, Here ftill with mild Peace and Simplicity dwell *, 'Tis the fweet Britijb blacWirdftm fings in my grove 5 No parrot pedantic, no learned macaw; And to hear my lov'd nightingale often I rove, Where the moon fweetly lilvers the Banks vf thf Daw. 4. On 42 POEMS. 4- On the brow of yon hill a torn caftle appears ; Low humbled in rubbifh old grandeur we trace ; The ruin yields now to the ravage of years, And Pomp's vain memorials all vanifli apace. Rough Barons are gone, and forgotten their fame, Who kept a rude race for long ages in awe : But Nature, fweet ruflic, for ever the fame, Still dwells with her Bard on the Banks oftbe Daw. 5- No gaudy parterre here dishonours the ground ; No feats of dull Faflikm appeir on thefe plains ; Here Beauty, dear charmer, wild wanders around, Unfetter'd by fools in Formality's chains : No languishing flirnb, a fad exile, here mourns, Nipt in a Strange clime by thewinter's keen flaw * ; * Flaw.] (Latin foj. A cold nipping gale, a fudden blaft. Vtde JOHNSON'S Dictionary, folio edition. O ! that that earth that kept the world in awe, Should patch a wall t' expel the winter's flaw. SHAKSPEARE. But POEMS. 43 But old "Brltijb verdure luxuriant adorns The fweet rural fcene on the Banks of the Daw. 6. Now May decks the meadows with beauty proftife j The morning's rich odours replenifli the gale ; ^Tis the feafon of fong, and I'll woo the fweet Mufe j She wanders where filence inhabits the dale : The Mufe t for whofe favours I treated with fcorn The wealth that vile mifers rapacioufly claw ; She, charmer of Nature, in Youth's early morn, I, lifping, invok'd on the Banks of the Daw* On the day (well remember'd) I dwell with delight, When in fearch of her objects I wander'd afar ; To deep-founding ihores, where the furge, in fierce might, Afliils the rude rock with perpetual war. And 44. POEMS. And often, whilft Night foftly curtain'd the plain, Would I from the village in filence withdraw ; To paint my warm heart in young Paffion'i wild {train, And faunter alone on the Bank* of tie Daw. Enflav'd by no paffion, fecluded from pride, A ruftic, inglorious, I dwell in thU vale : Let fools, lovely Nature, thy di&ates deride, I know thy fweet voice, and attend to thy tale ; And here may my moments glide peaceful along, No conscience upbraiding my bofom to gnaw j Thou, too, (hall partake of thy Bard's humble fong, My dear native cot on the Banki of the Daw. STOICISM. POEMS. 45 STOICISM. I. ' ^V"" V-J A N S T thou the fangs of torture bear, To vulture knaves thy wealth refign, And dauntlefs drink thy cup of gall ? Say, canft thou quafti the ft r uggling tear, Nor at thy woful fate repine, When foes triumphant fee thy fall ? 2. She, lovely darling of thy heart, Groans in the furious gripe of Death, Or venom'd foes revile her name ; Detra&ion, with infernal art, And green-ey'd Envy's blighting breath, Purfue thy merit's rifing fame. 46 POEMS. 3- If {till unchang'd thy fleady face, If no fierce feeling tears thy breaft, If rend thy foul no fuff'ring can ; Thou art not fprung of earthly race, Art of feme nature ftrange poflefs'd, Art, furcly, life or more than MAX. SO N G^ POEMS. 47 N G. 1\ OW day's chearful moments are fled, And each happy mortal afleep, Whilft, quitting my flumberlefs bed, On the fea's rocky margent I weep j By the foam-cover'd billow reclin'd, And fearching in vain for relief ; I utter my tale to the wind, My tale of unfpeakable grief. a. Amid the ftern horrors of night, Alone on the beach I complain ; My joys have all taken their flight ; No fliad'ows of comfort remain To 48 POEMS. To the tide's hollow murmur I rave, Expending in fighs my fad breath ; My Jemmy lies under the wave, Lies deep in the manfions of death. TO POEMS. 49 TO THE CUCKOO, WRITTEN IN I77S. JtjL AIL! welcom'd Harbinger of Spring, Blithe Herald of the bloomy May ; The groves, the vales, harmonious ring, Refponfive to thy cheering lay; And where the fwallow fkims along, I ramble down the dale, and liften to thy fong. 2. Thy voice recalls the fmiling hours ; With thee returns the vernal morn ; And pearly dews, and fragrant flow'rs, Once more our verdant meads adorn, When, through the vocal dells around, The thrilling fongs of love in echo'd lays re found. VOL. I. D 3 . Whilft 5 POEMS, 3' \Vhilfl Winter quits thy fulgent Ikies, And Peace attends the rofy dawn, Thy fcenes employ my raptur'd eyes Where Beauty revels on the lawn ; With Joy's loud notes the welkin rings, And Fancy mounts her throne, and waves her gol- den wings, 4 Sweet Cuckoo, npw thy morning mild Awakes to love the choral throng, I range wiph thee the. thicket wild, I tune with thee the rural fongj Here emulate thy cheerful voice, Roufe up my drooping Mufe, and bid my foul re joice. s- Say, lovely gueft! oh! wilt thou flay. Nor leave Britannia's favour'd ifle ? Se POEMS. $i So fliall the charms of youthful May Through ev'ry month fcrenely fmile ; And Love, a monarch in thy train, Shall rule in ev'ry foul, lhall triumph on the plain. 6. The mirthful Mufe will daily chaunfr The joys of thy delightful hour ; Thy fong will blefs the Lover's haunt, Thy fylvan Bard's fecluded bovv'r ; Stay, fvveet enliv'ner of the dale, And wake up ev'ry dawn with thy rejoicing tale. 7- Alas ! ere long thy foothing note No more fhall cheer the pallid morn j Nor tow'ring lark in ether float; Nor blackbird warble on the thorn: v Stern Winter meets our fadden'd eyes ; Amid the ftorm eathron'd, the tyrant of the feiei, Da 8. Fond 5* POEMS. 8. Fond youth attend, the leflbn 's thine 1 So fleet apace thy mirthful hours ; Life's jocund fpring will foon decline ; Thy joys will fade like drooping flow'rs ; Time leaves behind thy tuneful days, And Age with icy cares will flrew thy wintry ways. 9- May fliall frequent the groves again, The Cuckoo fing on ev'ry tree, Bright Beauty's mantle robe the plain, But Spring returns no more for thee : Where art thou gone ? ah ! whither fled ? Forgotten in the grave, low number'd with the dead. 10. Liv'd confcious Goodnefs in thy breaft ? Dwelt Truth an inmate of thy heart ? Was Virtue by thy foul carefs'd, When Death bade fly th' unerring dart? Then POEM S. 53 Then wing'd thy raptur'd foul away, To thofe eternal climes where ev'ry month is Mny. This piece was printed in the Toun and Country Magazine, for July, 1775. It is here considerably altered ; but the fentiments are flill the fame, and in the fame arrangement. A piece on the fame fubjecr. appeared in a fmatl volume of Poems that was pi.b- liflied about feven or eight years after ; where the Cmilarity appears fo flriking, that one of thefe Poems cannot well be confidered but as a ftudied imita- tion of the other ; how far this can be fuppofed to bs incidental, mud be left to the public opinion. D 3 ADVICE 54 J O E M S. ADVICE TO A WHINING LOVER. 'RER of the pathlefs plain, Why that fob of filly caie ? Hugging (till thy galling chain ; Whining to the midnight air. z, Why, with owls amid the grove, Wilt thou fhun the cheerful day? And, in doleful fongs of love, Sadly fool thy life away. 3 Thee, through brakes and boggy meads, Pelted by the florms of night, Love, a jack-a-lanthorn, leads, Gkaming with perfidious light, 4, Thee, POEM S. 4' Thee, deprefs'd by dire alarms, Moping near the (edgy brook Have I feen, with folded arms, Love-fick phiz, and fheepifli look. 5- Phoebe flights thy proffcr'd love ; Phoebe triumphs in thy pain ; Nought can Phoebe's pity move ; Nought afluage her high difdain, 6. Haplefs doom ! and why wilt thou Still her fettei'd flave remain ? Here 's the rope, and there's the bough, Certain cures for all thy pain. 7- Haftc ! thy crushing load of grief On yon blafted oak fufpend ; 'Tis the lover's befi. relief; This will foon thy forrows end. 'D 4 8. Then, 56 POEMS. 8. Then, from Phoebe's bondage free, To that wench no more a Have j Thou {halt triumph on the tree, Like a lever bold and brave. 9- Then, a ghoft of fainted fame, When around the ravens fly, Thou fhalt fing with loud acclaim, " Love has won the victory." 10. And thy form will furely pleafe, When her martyr Phoebe finds, Dangling with a graceful eafe, Devious in the ftormy winds. n. Thus, exalted to the flties, Thou (halt thrilling joys impart To thy Phoebe's ravifti'd eyes ; To thy charmer's tender heart. 12. Gloomy POEMS. 57 12. Gloomy Lovers in defpair Shall for ever crowd thy fhrine ; Sigh to thee their fniv'iing care ; Raife to thee the wonted whine. Phcebe, with exulting boaft, Shall proclaim her Damon truej. This will charm thy. raptiir'd ghoft ; Hafte ! and bid the world adieu !. T H 2 5* * O E M THE REAPERS. A PASTORAL. (Infcriledto the GLAMORGAN Agricultural Society.) r. tl. L L up with the Sun, the brifk reapers were feen f Prepar'd with their fickles, and walking the green ; The lads whittle jocund, their lafles attend At Love's tender call, fweet affiftance to lend ; As gamefome along, through the morning's frefb air, The gay village-throng to the wheat-field repair, Blithe Corydon^ tuning his mufical tongue, Thus the praifes of rural felicity fung. 2. CORYDON, POEMS. 59 2. CORY DON. The carol of gladnefs is due to this day, Ye lads and ye lafles attend to my lay. Ye that from high Pride's bloating paffions are free, And join in the labours of harveft with me, I fing of your honours, I fmg of your wealth, Your days of contentment, your bleffings of health ; The virtues, the joys, of thofe peaceable fwains, Who, pupils of Nature, inhabit the plains. 3- Let thofe that abide in the filth of a town Deride, if they pleafe, the meek life of a clown ; We laugh at their time!, our tafte is too nice To be pleas'd with their toys, or to rclifli their vice; In worthlefs purfuits let them fquander their time, , s,ii jyiJiiJT filKn ;, ,. ^.vW.-* r\V> "> Their luxuries love, and fall off in their prime ; Whilft we, rural fwains, in tow villages find Rich plenty, fweet health, and a peaceable mind. D 6 4. How 60 P O E M Si, 4- How happy the life of an innoceivt fwain, That dwells, with bis herds and his flockj on the. plain ; Who labours abroad on his farm all the day, Now turning his fallows, now tedding his hay ; Here cattle in fields of rich clover we view j Here, lambkins in meads of a beautiful hue ; And, here the rich fruits of his labours we find, Where the wheat's golden curls * gently wave in the, tvind, S* He flights the prete^ibns of Grandeur and Wealth, And thii.ks them furpafs'd hy Contentment and: Health; * CcUtn turli.~\ Now the Author dares venture his life thai there is not a Paftoral wr ter in all G ub-ftrtet that knows any . Ihing of the vibtat't goknn rA. Poor Devil* I Hit- P O- E M 3. 6t His well-founded hopes are by Providence blefs'd, And on it's protection with coi Science r^ft : He whittles and fings as he rambles his farm, Loves innocent mirth, and he thinks it no harm;. By blifsful experience, he feelingly knows The folid content that from induftry fiowj, 6. 'Tis Induftry 's toil ev'fy comfort fecurcs, The fweeteft enjoyments of Nature infures ; Warm raiment, fvveet food, from its hand we de- rive ;. It fofters, and keeps all ihe virtues alive; It planted the rofe that yon garden adorns, Where grew the rank hemlock with venomous. thorns ; It gives ev'ry feeling a polifli refin'd, And calms the rude paifions, and brightens the mind... 7~ When cold furly. ftorms of bleak Winter appear^ The fwaia that ' induurious has nothing to-fear; Though 6i POEMS. Though round him proud hills are all cover'd witk ("now, Though ftreams are congeal'd in the vallies below, With plenty well-fuiting his humble defire, He cheerfully fits by the fide of his fire ; His moments of peace leading jocund along, With ilories of old, or a merry new fong. 8. The Ikies are 'now bright, we repair to fhe field, Nor lags one behind that a fickle can wield ; The hills and the vales {hall refound with our din j We '11 joyfully buftle till harveft is in ; Or if for a moment to reft we fit down, We '11 merrily jeer the fine folk of the town, Who trifle their lives in dull follies away, And fee the Sun fliine, but neglect to make hay. 9- Thus Coy don fang to glad hearers around, Loud fliouts of applaufe bade the welkin refound ; We POEMS. 63 We now the ripe corn widely falling behold, So fell before ARTHUR the Saxons of old : Anon the good farmer's neat maidens appear, They toil under loads of old Brirjb good cheer ; The lafles are kifs'd, then the reapers regale, And the fong comes again o'er a cup of good ale. LOVE P O E M S. LOVE TRIUMPHANT. A SONG. j. JD'A M O N, a nave in Celia's chain,. Had various efforts tried in vain To win the cruel maid ; Now, penfive in the tangled grove,. He, itruggling in the toils of Love, Calls Reafon to his ai4 " Come, god -like Reafon ! and impart- *' Thy nob'er motives to my heart ; '* O ! calm this troubled bread ; ' Dif- POEMS. 65 " Difpel mad Paffion's vain alarms, " And let, once more, thy brighter charms " Reilore my foul to reft. " Blind Love ! thou fource of endlefs pai% " Thou dream in Fancy's giddy brain, " Whilft carelefs Reafon fleeps : " Caught in thy fnare, man's high-born mind " Debas'd, amongft the reptile kind, " Through Folly's puddle creeps, 4- " I foar ! I feel my foul un.chain'd ! *' My former liberty regaln'd ! " And Celia 's nought to me t t{ Now, Reafon ! I'm for ever thine !. ^* I all my future days refign ** To Friendfliip and to thee. ! ; POEMS. " No more the dupe of female art, " 1 tear thee, Celia, from my heart ! ** This heart once more my own I " Thy charms are vanifh'd all away ! " Thus, from the golden blaze of day, * The Aiadea of night arc flown." Affronted thus, almighty Love Drew Celia to the darkling grove r Near Damon's lone retreat f Again the ranter proftrate lay, His boafted Reafon breath'd away In fighs, at Celia's feet I WRITTEN POEMS. 67 WRITTEN AT THE CLOSE OF AUTUMN, 1778. HEN youthful Spring, in flow'ry msmtlt gay, Led on the jocund hours of fmiling May, My Mufe attun'd the joy -proclaiming fong, With aged Autumn, penfive o'er the plain, Attempt I now the fentimental {train, By fofter feelings mov'd, the fadden'd fcene along. 2. No cheerful fongfler ufliers in the dawn, No gorgeous bloom enrobes the joylefs lawn, No nightingale awakes the midnight hour; Yet fading Nature gives the tender mind A mournful blifs, a feeling more refin'd, Than aught wild Mirth enjoys in May's ein- bloflbra'd bow'r, 3. Tb 6# P Q E M S. 3- Th' obfervant Bard, a devious Hermit, roves To vales remote, and far-fequefter'd groves, Or where wild furge lafh tke founding fliore ; Whilft from the mountains ruder gales arife, He, vviftful, notes the ftorm-foreboding dies ; Or hears (and drops a tear) the diftant cannon coar* 4' Fond of the moral drawn from Nature's lore, He marks the falling leaf, the landfcape hoar, And ruminates on all the boaft of youth';. How Summer's pride to rifling Winter yields, HOW Beauty fpeaks, expiring on the fields, T-o man's unheeding ear. th' emphatic word ; of S- Here Morning triumph'd, bright in pearly dewsj Here bloom'd the lawn in May's unrival'd hues, Here vocal groves with Love's gay carols rung; The POEM S. 6g The lawn's high bloom, the morn in mantle bright, Are loft ; all vanifh'd from the mournful fight ; And hufh'd the fylvan founds of Joy's extatic tongue: 6. Ye flaunting Beauties, who thro' blooming youth, Seldom attend the cherub voice of Truth, By Flatt'ry deafen'd, and by Folly led; Behold where once the gaudy tulip bloom'd ! Where once the pink its ambient air perfum'd ! Where proud the lily once high rear'cl its gor- geous head ! 7- Alas ! their charms are vanifli'd all away, They glare no more in the bright blaze of day, Nor fruit neclareous leave in Beauty's room ; The wither'd item, expos'd to raging ftorms, Alone remains, and Nature's face deforms, In Winter's frowning morn augments the dreary gloom. 8. Ye 7 POEMS. 8. Ye Fair attend ! nor truft the blooming face ; Youth quickly flies, and beauty fades apace, It hardly knows the triumph of a day ; 'Tis Viri ue's glow beftows unfading charms, Its bloom divine the foul of Reafon warms, Nor thro' duration's round e'er feels the leaft decay. 9- Behold yon appk tree with tow'ring height, Undaunted brave the ftorm's collected fpite, May view'd it rob'd in Beauty's bloomy veft ; Each loaded branch, with fruit ambrofial grac'd, Now glads the fight, now charms th' extatic tafte j Chief of furrounding woods in real worth con- fefsU 10. Thus, Delia, thy fweet innocence of youth Produc'd the fair, the ripen'd, fruits of Truth, i Of dove-eyed Goodnefs, and a tafte refin'd, 7 By POEM S. 71. By Reafon cultur'd in thy feeling heart, The growth abundant fppings in e.v'ry part; And Truth's eternal bloom enrobes thy beau- teous mi ad. n. Come, lovely Maid, and with thy thoughtful fwain* View Nature drooping on the wither'd plain* Bleak Winter foon will ev'iy feene deform; Will bid its rage through ruftling thickets fly, Bid chilly fnows on Earth's cold b.ofom lie ; Chain up the purling brook, and urge along the ftorm. 12. Yet fhall the joyful Spring again return, And bid reviving Nature ceafe to mourn, May's bloom awaken from the teeming earth; See, Delia, fee, this picture of that day, When the rapt foul breaks through this cage of clay, Springs up to life, agaifl in a celeftial birth. 13. Thugh ' * ft POEMS. '3- Though Grief and Pain may cloud our wintry day t Whilfl thro* this life, this defart bleak, we ftray, Yet Hope attends us, hand in hand with Peace; Sweet Hope ! that healer of the bleeding breaft, Leads her meek vot'ries to the calm of reft, Smiles in the humble heart, and bids all fornnr ceafe. 14. Why fear we Death ? why wifli its long delay ? Death kindly bears us to thofe realms of day, Whence Anguifli flies, and ne'er returns again : Calm Reafon fmiles, and hails the blifsful hour, That frees the foul from erring Frailty's pow'r, From all her earth-born ills of Folly, Grief, and Pain. '* Let balmy Hope anticipate the joy That mall eternally our thoughts employ, When, in thofe manfions of the blefs'd above, We ? O E M S. 73 We meet our friends, releas'd from death and pain, One common Friend unites us all again, Whofe fmile is endlefs Peace, and everlafling Love. VOL. I. THE 74 POEMS. THE FAIR PILGRIM; From Dafydd ap Gwilym, a Weljb Rard, TV/JO ftounjbed about the Tear 1350. JL H E Charmer of fweet MONA'S * Ifle, With Death attendant on her fmile, Intent on pilgrimage divine, Speeds te Saint DAVID'S f holy fhrine; Too confcious of a finful mind, And hopes fhe may forgivenefs find. What haft thou done, thrice lovely maid ? What crimes can to thy charge be laid ? * MONA,] the Ifle of Jgkfta. f St. DAVID] was, in thofe times, reckoned the tutelary Sain; of Wales. Didft POEM S. 7 Didft thou contemn the fuppliant Poor, Drive helplefs Orphans from thy door, Unduteous to thy parents prove, Or yield thy charms to lavvlefs Love ? No, MORVID, no; thy gentle bread Was form'd to pity the Diftrefs'd ; Has ne'er one thought, one feeling known, That Virtue could not call her own ; Nor haft thou caus'd a parent's pain Till quitting now thy native plain. Yet, lovely nymph, thy way purfue, And keep repentance 1 full in view; Yield not thy tongue to cold reftraint, But lay thy foul before the Saint ; Oh ! tell him that thy lover dies ; On Death's cold bed unpitied lies ; Murder'd by thee, rdentlefs maid, And to th' untimely grave convey'd. Yet ere he 's number *d with the dead, Ere yet his latefl breath is fled ; E 2 Con- 76 POEMS; Confefs, repent, thou cruel Fair, And hear, for once, a Lover's pray Y, So may the SainPwith ear benign, Sweet Penitent, attend to thine. Thou foon muft over MENAI * go ; May ev'ry current foftly flow, Thy little bark fecurely glide Swift o'er the calm pellucid tide ; Unruffled be thy gentle breaft, Without one fear to break thy reft, Till thou art fafely wafted o'er, To bold ARVONIA'S f tow 'ring fliore. ! could I guard thy lovely form Safe through yon defart of the ftorm J, * MENAI,} the frith or channel dividing Anglejea from Car- narvirjbire. f A R VON I A,] Carnar-uon/bire. 1 Defart of the Jlorm,~\ the Snawdon Mountains in Carnarvon- (hire, fuppofed to be the higheft in Britain. Where POEMS. 77 Where fiercely rage encountering gales, And xvhirlwinds rend th' affrighted vales : Sons of the tempeft, ceafe to blow, Sleep in your cavern'd glens below ; Ye ftreams that, with terrific found, Pour from your thoufand hills around; Ceafe with rude clamours to ciifmay A gentle Pilgrim on her way. Peace ! rude TR AETH MAWR * ; no longer urge O'er thy wild ftrand the fweeping furge ; 'Tis Moavio on thy beach appears, She dreads thy wrath flie owns her fears ; OJ let the meek repentant maid Securely through thy windings wade. * TRAETH MAWR] (Atglitt, Great StrtaJJ, in Carnarvon- Shire, noted for its quickfands, and the fudden flowing of its tides ; the paffage over it is very dangerous, and not to be at- tempted without a guide, which, however, the Pilgrims to St. DAVID'S did inthofe days. 3 TRAETH 78 POEMS. TRAETH BYCHAN *, check thy dreadful ire; And bid thy foamy waves retire ; Till from thy threat'ning dangers freed, My charmer trips the flow'ry mead, Then bid again with fullen roar, Thy billows lafli the founding fhore. AsERMot, from thy rocky bay, Drive each terriffic furge away : Though funk beneath thy billows lie Proud fanes, that once aflail'd the Iky J. Dafh'd * TR AETH BYCHAN] (Little Strand), in Mtrionttbjbire, a place equally dangerous. j- ABERMO,] a dangerous rocky bay in McrionettJJjiret I Proud fanet tbat once ajjaifd tbc fly.] A very large traifl of fenny covmtry on thiscoaft, called CANTRE'R GVVAELOD (i. e. the LOWLAND CANTON), was, about the year 500, overflown by the fea, occasioned by the careleffnefs of thofe who kept the flood-gates ; as we are informed by fa lie/in, the famous Bard, in a poem of his ftill extant. There were, it is faid, many large towns, a great number of villages, and palaces of noble- men, POEMS. 79 Dafh'd by thy foam, yon vcftal braves, The dangers of thy burfting waves. O ! CYRIC *, fee my lovely fair Confign'd to thy paternal care ; Rebuke the raging feas, and land My MORVID on yon friendly ftrand. DYSSYNNI f, tame thy furious tide, Fix'd at thy fource in peace abide ; She comes O ! greet her with a fmile ! The charmer of fweet MONA'S Ifle. So may thy limpid rills around, Purl down their dells with foothing found, men, in this canton ; and amongfl them the palace of GWYDD- NO GARANHIR, a petty Prince of the country. There were lately (and I believe are flill) to be feeix in the faads of this bay, large ftones with iiifcriptions on them, the characters Roman, but the language unknown. This difaftrous circumftance is re- corded by many other ancient Welfh Writers. * CYRIC.] The patron Saint of the Welfti mariners. f DYSSYNNI.] A river in MerioneibJIxre, running through a beautiful co'Jntry. E 4 Sport So POEMS. Sport on thy bofom, and difplay Their cryflal to the glitt'ring day ; Nor fiirink from Summer's parching fun, Nor, chain'd in ice, forget to run. So may thy verdant marge along MERVINIA'S * Bards in raptur'd fong Dwell on thy bold majeftic fcene, Huge hills, vafl woods, and rallies green, Where revels thy enchanting ftream, The Lover's haunt, and Poet's theme. Thou, DYVI f, dangerous and deep, On beds of ooze unrufiled fleep ; O'er thy green wave my MORVID J fails ; Conduft her fafe, ye gentle gales ; Ohnrm'd * MER'VINIA/J Merionttb/Kft, j- Dyvi.J A large river, dividing JUirianubfltiri from Car- tiganlUrt. % My MORVID Jaili."] It was ufiral for thofe (even females), who went from North Wales on pilgrimages to St. DAVID'S, to pafs the dangerous ftrands, and fail over the rough bays, in flight POEMS. 81 Charm'd with her beauties, waft her o'er To fam'd CEREDIG'S * wond'ring fliore. Foamy RHEDIOL f, rage no more Down thy rocks with echo'd roar j Be filent, YSTWYTH f, in thy mead?, Glide foftly through thy peaceful reeds ; Nor bid thy dells rude AERON f ring, But halt at thy maternal fpring ; Hide from the nymph, ye torrents vrild, Or wear, like her, an afpeft mild ; For her light Heps clear all your ways ; O, Men ! 'tis a Lover prays ! flight coracles, without any one to guide or afiift them ; fo firmly were they pei funded that their adored Saint, as well as CYR ic, the ruler of the waves, would protect them in all dangers. See the note in p. 77. * CERE DIG.] An ancient Prince, from whom Ctrediglon (Jlnglhe, Cardigan) derives its name. f RHEDIOL, YSTWVTH, and AEROK, rivers in Cardigan- (bin. E ; Now S* POEMS. Now fafe beneath ferener fkies, Where fofter beauties charm her eye? r She TEIVI'S * verdant region rover, Views flow'ry mends and penflie groves; Ye lovely fcenes, to MORVID'S heart, Warm thoughts of tendernefs impart, Such as in bufy tumults roll, When Love's confufion fills the foul. Her wearied ftep, with awe profound, Now treads MENEVIA'S f honour'd ground. At * TEIVI.] A large ri\rer dividing the counties of Cardigan and Ptmbnke. f MENEVIA.] In Welfh Mynyw, the ancient city of St. David's, in Pembroke/hire. The pilgrimages to this place were, in thofe times, efteemed fo very meritorious, as to occafion the following proverbial rhyme in Welfh : Dos i Rufain unwcutb, ag i Fynyw ddiuyivaith, jfr un ehv cryno a gal di }ma ac yno. And in Latin : quantum, tit dit Menevia tantum, Would POEMS. 83 At DAVID'S flirine now, lovely maid, Thy pious orifons are paid : He fees the fecrets of thy breaft, One fin, one only,- ftancls coufcfs'd, One heinous guilt, that, ruthlefs, gavt Thy hopelefs Lover to the grave. ., ta ,y>oM :' Thy foften'd bofom now relents, , , ; ^ on { l3 j Kli Of all its cruelty repents, , 3vod5 2;nir3'io it/ij j^:. ril Would haughty ?;/> your fenfes bubble, And once to Rvms your Heps entice ; 'Tis quite as well, and faves fome trouble, Go vifit old Saint Taffy twice. The Welfh Bard's moft refpe<5lful compliments to. their infal- lillt Holineffes the POPES of all feds and denominations (for fuch there certainly are), and hopes they will pardon him for not giving a clofer verfion of the good old Monk's jingling line ; allures them that he has not taken greater liberties with it than what they daily take with the S.Ik (and indeed with all futb in general), well-knowing that it will not fully nnfwer their laudable purpofes without a little decent perverfion. E 6 Gives 84 POEMS. Gives to Remorfe the fervent figh, Sweet Pity's tear bedews thine eye ; Now Love lights up its hallow'd fire, Melts all thy heart with chafte defire : Whilll in thy foul new feelings burn, O ! MORVID, to thy Bard return ; One tender look will cure his pain, Will bid him rife to life again, A life like that of Saints above, Extatic joy, and endlefs love. THE POEMS. 85 THE LEARNED IGNORANTS, A SONG, WRITTEN IN I772. 1. JL E book-poring pedants, by learning made fools, Whofe fkulls are well-ftuff'd with the rubbifh of fchcols, Ye boaft your old ballads that claffics ye caU, Your Homers, your Virgils^ your devil and all ; True, ye know Greek enough to make any dog fick, Nor lefs are ye ftill'd in the cant of Old Nick ; But, how does it happen ? ye conftantly prove Mere dunces indeed in the language of Lci>e. 3 . A 86 POEM S, 2. A tatterd Oxonian 1 1' other day met, One of thofe that make books (I was quite in a pet),- He was filching from Horace old thoughts for a long, Where through the green wood I walk'd penfive along ; > He look'd wild around him, and afk'd with fur- prize, If Duns or Bumbailiffs occaiion'd my fighs, But I fought my dear Phillis, and flew from the grove, Alas ! the poor Soph knows but little of Lcvs. ~ Once forc'd from my charmer abruptly to part, Grief harrow'd my foul, drew the blood from my heart ; In my way an abfurd agronomical afs Bo-peep'd at the fky through a queer-fafliion'd glafs ; He faw my fad looks, and the briny tears run, And fnppos'd 'twas by ilaring, like him, at the Sun; At POEMS. 87 At the Sun! yes, you block-head, but not that above, 'Twas a brighter by far, the bright eyes of my Love. > 4 One morning in May, as I walk'd by the rill That tinkles along near the foot of yon hill, Gay Spring bloom'd around, how ferene the fweet And, weeping, I wifli'd my dear Phillis was there ; When a booby old BotaniJ}, haunting the place, Through a pair of broad fpeftacles ftar'd in my face; T i*;f>V0.1 \' ',-, \ .;' This eye-feed, quoth he,'will your anguifli remove : 'Twas a 'weed-monger's tale, that knew nothing of M*. 5' As faunt'ring laft night in the pine-lhaded walk, Where often I'm blefs'd with my charmer's dear talk; I long'd to behold her, look'd anxious around, But my fair-one, alas ! was no where to be found j 88 POEMS. A Tbil.ofopber afk'd, if I wept, figh'd, and whin'd, Like Heraclitus once, for the whims of mankind ? A Pbilofopber you ! that's amazing, by Jove ! And ignorant thus of the nature of Love. 6. In a glade far-fequefter'd, as lately retired, I wept the fad abfence of her I admir'd ; When a fon of old Galen came hobbling that way, And, like other dull fots, wanted fomething to fay ; He aflc'd me, obferving my tears and my fighs, If a lachrymal fijiula flooded my e)tes ? Alas, the poor Doftor ! 'twas eafy to prove His heart never felt the keen lancet of Love. 7- As, weeping, I pafs'd by the church t' other day, In fearch of my Phillis who rambled that way ; I was taken to talk by a preaching old prig, 'Twas a double -cbinti'd Priefl, in a full-bottom'd wig ; He of fatting and pray'r made a wonderful din, And hop'd, he pretended, I wept for my fin ; But POEMS. 89 But how can be claim thofe blefs'd manfions above, That's not of the faith and religion of Lovef t 8. The billet from Phillis, her hand and her feal, Drew me out of the parlour my tears to conceal ; When a grizzly old Alchymift meets me, and cries, " You 've been toiling in fmoke, I perceive by your " eyes ;" His Phihfopher 's Jlone turns a brick-bat to gold, Yet Love's nobler eflence he ne'er could unfold ; But I flew to my charmer, we met in the grow, And join'd foul to foul in th* endearments of Love* 9> Hulh, Pedants, be mute ! you may think me quite rude, Becaufe I dare thus on your fludies intrude j But quit this dull farce, your poor college gri- mace, And ftudy the charms of a pretty girl't face ; The 9 o POEMS. The tender expreffions of love-tutor'd eyes ; And conftrue the language of heart-fpeaking fighs ; Do this, and your learning to wifdom improve, And you '11 own that true knowledge is nothing but Love / SADNESS. POEMS. 9' SADNESS. Jtd O W fad the meek Innocent harrafs'd by Spite, Sad mourns the poor Pilgrim o'ertaken by Night ; And fadly droops Merit when Envy purfues ; Good Nature too faddens if crofs'd in her views. Difeafe and keen Want will make ev'ry one fad ; The lofs of fweet Liberty 's equally bad. Sad weighs the long debt on each honeft man*a >.i ,7J; :;>>ViSfi.-. to T$Utly$ 3413 iir, !>i .(; tAj tdu.;-l, eui.iiliw l.'*-flils. ,.('frf' But faddeft of all, that true Lovers rauft part. ; ^:^^ v'irf>?bo. ! &Eu soitJJfltiolJji t^J.lo.htswi'J e -i": THE POEMS. THE SWAIN OF THE MOUNTAINS, A PASTORAL, Ja-.At W HEN fmiling Felicity warbles her fong, The foul- touching numbers harmoniouy flow , The moments of Gladnefs come urgent along, And bid all the feelings of ecftacy glow. Thus, reclin'd with his lambs on the marge of a brook, The Swain of the Mountains melodioufly fung ,- ^ j The fun-mine of Happinefs beam'd in his look ; Joy trill'd in the found of his mulical tongue. *. Far P O E ~M S. 93 2. Far down in thil dale, the firft morning in June, I mournfully walk'd near the murmuring rill, The Thrulh in wild melody warbled his tune, From a gay-blooming bulh of the copfe-coverM hill. Sweet Thrum, wilt thotl leave thy green haunts in the grove, And fly, quickly fly, with my dolorous tale To the pride of the Lowlands, the fair one I lore ? I '11 wait thy return here alone in the vale, 3 Now to the wild woodlands I fly from the raeaJ, And through the lone thicket I filently mourn ; Go, Thrufh, hafte away with a Lover's warm fpeed, Beneath thy lov'd hawthorn I wait thy return; Now penfively rambling, now laid on the ground, I ftrive to beguile the fad moments of grief; I fearch the grean copfe and gay meadows around, But nothing, alas ! can afford me relief. 4. The 9 4 POEMS. 4- The thicket's wild fonglter flew fwift o'er the plain, Convey'd to my Delia the paffionate lay ; My anguifli related, well-pi&ur'd my pain, And bore three foft fighs from my charmer away. Returning in hafte, yonder comes my fvveet Thrufh : Approach thy green arbour, no danger lies here ; What haft thou to chaunt on thy favourite bufh ? What tidings of comfort ? what news from my dear ? 5- I flew to thy Delia, me faunter'd alone, . On her eglantine bow'r I related thy tale, Thy forrowful ditty, thy mufical moan, Attun'd her to love, all thy wiflies prevail j Be cheer'd, penfive fliepherd, no longer delay, Thefe fighs are thy Delia's, they rufh'd on the gale; On pinions of Love to thy fair hafte away, This ev'ning (he '11 meet thee far down in the dale. 6. I POEMS. 95 6. I flew to my nymph on the wings of defire, In her eglantine bow'r fhe fat penlive and fad ; I kifs'd her dear lips, and Love's delicate fire Blaz'd up in our hearts, both were filently glad. Sweet Thrufli of the copfe,chaunt again thy wild tune, And let my blefs'd fate through the vallies be known ; My Delia comply'd the third morning in June, The Swain of the Mountains now calls her his own. In this piece many of the peculiarities of the com- mon fongs of Wales are defignedly introduced, as a fpecimen of the old national manner of the Welfli in their Poems, and particularly in their Lwe-fongs. Strong metaphors, wild and fudden tranfitions-, ftrange, and fometimes fantaflical, perfonifications, are amongft the characterises of the Poetry of an- cient and modern Welfh Bards. It is rather remark- able, 9 fr POEMS. able, that this nationality in poetic tafte thould ftill be retained unaltered, when at the fame time the in- habitants of Wales are not much, if any thing, be- hind other European nations in their acquaintance with ancient and modern literature. HYMN POEMS. 97 HYMN TO HEALTH, WRITTEN IN MAY 1780, On Recovery from a. long and dangerous lllntfs.. JN O W tuneful on the bloomy thorn The mellow blackbird hails the morn, With_ placid gleam the purple dawn Unveils the beauties of the lawn, Through dewy dales and waving groves, The vernal breeze unruffled roves. Delicious Health ! I range the vale, And breathe once more thy balmy gale; 'Scap'd from the wrathful fangs of pain, 1 view, rejoic'd, thy flcies again j VOL. I. F O, Sun! 9 8 POEMS. O, Sun ! with raptur'd look I fee, Thy fulgence beam again for me ; Thee to thefe eyes a ftranger long, I hail once more in joyful fong; Once more I trace the fylvan fcene Of daified field, and thicket green ; In lays of grateful ardour fing, And join the ehorifters of Spring j Feel tranfport thrill in ev'ry vein, Allonifh'd that I breathe again. What is the boaft of titled Wealth / What, without thee, foul-cheering Health ? Spring decks in vain her flow'ry lawn, In vain her larks roufe up the dawn ; Though, proud of Beauty's rich excefs 1 , Cay Summer wears her gorgeous drefs, Or Autumn in profufion pours Her golden wealth, her honied ftores j Thefe yield no joy, revolve in vain, To that fad bofom rent with pain. Gay POEMS. 99 Gay Fancy feels a deadly froft ; Bright Reafon's energies are loft ; Love's rapture dies, it's warm delight Flies woful from the ficken'd fight ; The Mvfe, from all her pleafures torn, Her ftrain forgets, and droops forlorn j Affettion brings her tear of grief, But weeping friends yield no relief, Where vanquifiYd Patience vents her breath In woful fighs that call for Death. What Angel fings with heav'nly voice ? What bids my wond'ring heart rejoice I Entrancing Health ! 'tis thy return ; My plaints are hufh'd, I ceafe to mourn j Joy blooms around, thy fmiles impart Extatic feelings to my heart j Of eafe, of comfort, re-poflefs'd, What thrills of gladnefs fill my breaft f I mufe impaffion'd on thy charms, And court thee wiflful to my arms ; F 2 Obey ioo POEMS. Obey thy laws, and trace for thee The paths of cool Sobriety^ From cates of luxury refrain ; No midnight bowl inflames my brain; My garden ftores, rny flreamlet nigh, Can well thy fandYion'd board fupply ; Immers'd in cryftal waves I feek The blooming rofes of thy cheek ; J daily meet thy golden dawn, Imbibe thy breezes on the lawn, Climb rugged ileeps, and often tread Yon funny mountain's ancient head, What time the lark forfakes the plain, To mount the Ikies in merry vein ; What time the milk-maid in the vale Sings tuneful as the nightingale ; And hear* her lays in echo'd fwell, Re-warbled through the vocal dell. Doft thou prefcribe the toiling hand ? I will obey thy blefs'd command ; And, POEMS, 101 And, where yon prickly thiftle grows, Will rear the peach, and plant the rofe ;. Or feed my flocks, a fylvan fwain, Inglorious on the peaceful plain ; Will rife before th* autumnal Sun, To range the fields with dog and gun ; Attentive watch the peep of morn, To chace the fox with hound and horn j In mirthful innocence refort To manly feats of rural fport : With nerve elaftic, flrength renew'd, And all thy foes, bright Health, fubdu'd, The purple flood fhall ftream alert Through all the channels of my heart j , Through ev'ry limb untainted roll, And give new vigours to the fou'. When comes Dejtclion's feeble thought, With liftlefs Melancholy fraught, I quit fad mufmgs, and attend The focial convcrfe of a friend.; * 3 Bid loz POEMS, Bid watchful Reafon chace the peft Of fancy'd evils from my bread ; The cheerful Mufe, with foothing art, Shall purge the venom from my heart ; O, Health ! her fervid feelings burn To celebrate thy blefs'd return ; Sweet ij her tafk in raptur'd lay To ling of angnifh flown away ; To HeavVs high gates, in grateful fong, She rolls her gladden'd thoughts along; Bids her felefted numbers rife, With Joy's redundance, to the Ikies, To Him who ftay'd my parting breath, Who drew me from the gorge of Death ; Who quench'd the fcorching flame of Pain, And long-loft Health reftor'd again ; Whofe goodnefs heard my groan of Grief: Whofe hand of Mercy brought relief. IN- POEMS. 103 INSCRIPTION IN A GROTTO, TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE EARL OF CHATHAM. JL N emulative flrains let others tell What Britain loft, when her Great CHATHAM fell ! Here Grief unfeign'd, to Flatt'ry ne'er a flave, Retires to weep in this fequefter'd cave : And, whilft his glories fill the trump of Fame, On this eternal rock infcribes his NAME. F 4 ON POEM S. ON RELIGION; ANT EPISTLE TO A F R i E w D, Who had exprejjed a Wijb to knvw the Author's Sentiments on the Subjett ; WRITTEN IN 1/79. " Slave to no Party^ Bigot to no Seft" ANON. i* You aflc, my dear friend, what Religion I chufe ?l What modes of belief I profefs ; For wanting Religion, I grant it, the Mufc Ig depriv'd of her beautiful drefs. i. 'Tis POEMS. 105 2. J Tis not that Religion impos'd on mankind By Popes, crafty Knaves, and Old Nick ; A fpurious Religion, that darkens the mind; That cankers the foul to the quick. 3- The Mufe that from Heaven derives her high birth, Recalls her employments above; Believing, vvhilft here a poor pilgrim on Earth, The Gofpel Religion of Love. 4? No creeds can this prieftlefs Religion define, It baffles all human controul j But dwells in the Confcience, a fervor divine, To blefs and illumine the foul. S- By the Great Prince of Peace, 'tis meek Charity nam'd; I flrive its bright beauties to fcan ; 'Tis Glory to God, and, as Angels proclaimed, 'Tis Peace and Good-'will to-ivards Man. E 5 Far xo6 POEMS. 6. Far fpreads the Religion of Avarice and Pride, From the tyrant's high roftrum it rings ; 'Tis Priejtcraft in grain , its dominions are wide, Well-caflled by BIJbops and Kings. 7- Where find we the realm where Cbrijllanity rules ? Where it's code of Benevolence binds ? The doctrines of Love are made, fadly, the tools Of felfifh malevolent minds. 8. Let Bigots preach up what impofture hath taught, And Faljhood promulge her decrees ; Be mine the Religion to a& as I ought, Whilft hypocrites aft as they pleafe. 9- In Humility's vale I will hide from the florin, From Folly's vile minions apart ; What Jujtice requires I will ftrive to perform, And Mercy fliall dwell in my heart. 10. Th POEMS. 107 10. The pupil of Innocence^ Friend/hip, and Peace, My foul with Benevolence fraught ; This life I will fpend, and in W^fdom increafe, And Reafon fliall govern my thought. n. The victims of Sorrow mall call me their friend, I feel, and partake, of their woe ; To the whole human race my good-will fliall extend, And I '11 wifh I had more to beftow. 12. Though injur'd by villains, though Fortune may frown, I '11 patiently bear with my lot ; Let Gold be the mifer's, Content is my own, And Vanity flies from my cot. '3- Thus I '11 live and be good, and not envy the Great What pleafures they borrow from art ; They may think what they pleafe,but Ambition's*, chea*-, That hardens and cankers the heart. F 6 14, Harm- io P O E M 3o 14. Harmlefs -'Mirth, now and then, fhall a moment em- ploy With a friend o'er a temperate glafs ; What 's lawful in pleasure I '11 fearlefs enjoy, As through this dark lab'rinth I pafs. *$ The day will foon come to refign up my breath, And Faith now dire&s me the road To pafs through the vale, the deep fhadows of Death, To firtue's eternal abode. EPIGRAM. F O E M S. 1.09 EPIGRAM, To-MORROW, fays Dick, I 11 caft follies away 5- Forfake ev'ry vice ; my vile habirs reprefs : But make, my good friend, a beginning to-day ; If living to-morrow, thy work will be lefs. ' .' -'A DECEITFUL no POEMS. DECEITFUL CELIA, A PASTORAL BALLAD, WRITTEN IN 1778, I. Jj E W AR E of Love, ye gentle fwains, That woful bane of reft ; Its madden'd hope, its poignant pains,' Will forely grieve the breaft. 2. With foul fincere I once ador'd A felfifli, artful, maid ; And, by blind Paffion overpow'r'd, I thought my love re-paid. 3, Love's I POEMS. in 3- Love's tender look fhe well could feign, AffecT: its melting tone ; And thus deceiv'd a fimple fwain Whofe heart was all her own. 4- This rural cot I ftrove to rear, My little flock improv'd ; Fix'd ev'ry thought, with anxious care, On her I dearly lov'd. 5- This orchard owns no rival nigh, 'Twas planted for her fake ; The wifli to pleafe my charmer's eye Kept all my foul awake. 6. But Lubin came, and quaintly told His tale with ftudious art; Then fhew'd a purfe well-cramm'd with gold, And won my Celia's heart. 7. Adore iiz POEM S.. 7 Adore that gold, ungrateful maid, Be rich, and hug thyfelf j Thou foon wilt feel thy heart betray 'd: By that vile miler's pelf. 8. My partial Mufe, with effort warm,, Made thee the darling theme ; I faw thee deck'd with ev'ry charm In Love's bewitching dream. 9 How have I gaz'd on thy bright eyes I With tranfport felt thy kifs ! How did my foul in thee comprize The whole of earthly blifs ! 10. Chang 'd in a moment, thou, by ftealth, Art in old Lubin's arms ; Haft made, for pomp and fordid wealth, A fale of all thy charms, . 5 ii. Wrong'd POEMS. 113 ii. Wrong'd haft then thus an honeft heart, Where Love's warm ardour glow'd ; Where, fprung from truth in ev'ry part,, The ftrearn unfullied flow 'di 12. Soon {halt thou mourn thy joylefs fate, Thy worthlefs choice deplore, Shalt weep forlorn, but weep too late ; Love's day returns no more. 13- Lubin's cold heart yields no relief When cares thy bofom gall ; But all true lovers mock thy grief, And triumph in thy fall. 14. Whilft, cur'd of Love's fantaft ic woes. Wife Colin lives at reft ; In Reafon finds a foft repofe, And comfort fills his breaft. 15. And, H4 POEMS. J 5- And, free from wealth's attendant ftrifc, He lives a rural fwain ; Enjoys in peace the (hepherd's life Inglorious on the plain. EPI- POEMS. EPITAPH ON A POET. r ERE let a BarJ unenvied reft, Where no dull Critick dares moleftj Efcap'd from the familiar curfe Of threadbare coat and empty purfe, From rough Bumbo'iUffs, threat'ning Duns, From ftupid Pride's detefted foni, From all thofe peft'ring ill$ of life ; From worfe than v^.Afcolding wife, A WELSH ti6 POEMS. A WELSH PROVERBIAL RHIME, Common in Glamorgan* P, A N glywer y Mor yn crochlefnin yn flin, A'r cwmwl yn dew am ben CaileH Penllin, Os gwir yr hen ddiareb, mae cawad o wlaw, Yn magu'fl yr vvybren, a'i fyi thiad gerllaw.. TRANSLATION. Which Mr. GROSE has thus introduced in his Account" of Penlline Co/lie, in Glamorgan. Fol. FII. p. go r 2d edit. " PenUine, like diverfe other elevated fpsts, affords *' a kind of prognojlic for the weather^ fpecified in the.: " follEGONTIUM, by the Town 0/"CAERNARVON. A PAS. POEMS. A PASTORAL SONG, Te the old Weljb Tune" Break of Day, i. X O where yon lofty mountain Afcends with eafy fwell, Whence many a cryftal fountain, Runs purling down the dell ; Whilft from yon Kaft the morning Calls forth its purple charms, From foreign (bores returning, I fly to Sally's arms. 'through POEMS. 119 Through rrrdnight's gloomy fliadowi I foic'd my lahour'd way, With eagtr hafte, O'er wild a id wafie, A foe to long delay: Now joyful in the meadows* Where fusiles the lovJy May, With choral fong, The pinion'd throng, Proclaim the break of day. 2. The blackbird's mellow chaunting Would fain detain my feet ; But, where my S..lly 's wanting, No blifs can be complete. Ye flow'rets of the valley, My fighs are not for you ; I 'm haftening to my Sally, And bid your fweets adieu. No 120 POEMS. No pleafures from my faireft Can lead my thoughts aftray ; Th' enamel'd ground, The groves around, Enrob'd in Spring's array ; I foon (hall meet my deareft, Then, Grief, thou muft away, When Love fupplies, From her fweet eyes, My brighter break of day* WINTER POEMS, ut WINTER INCIDENTS. WRITTEN IN ij L E A K \Vinter comes with wrathful roah Exclude the tyrant ! flint the door, And let us blunt his nipping gale With blazing hearths, with fparkling ale, And lead the fallen hours along With tale of old and mirthfal fong. No feathered fongfter tunes a lay, To cheer the fhort, the joylefs, day j Yon mournful blackbird mopes alone, Has quite forgot his mellow tone ; How mute yon linnet oa the thorn ! No joyous lark falutes the morn VOL. I. G The ~i22 P O E M b. The fcreech-ovvl tells her doleful tale Where warbled once the nightingale ; Wild geefe with clamours fill the Iky, Their clank proclaims the temped nigh ; Swans, fearful of the polar gales, t Seek flielter in Silurian vales * ; The fea-gull in the meadow fcreams, And wood-cocks haunt lone thicket-flreams ; Rude winds from hills Brigantian f blow, And from their pinions fliake the fnow ; Whiltl trembling ftars, intenfely bright, Pour all their fulgence on the night ; The breeze with gellid rigour teems, And turns to rock the languid ftreams, * Seek Jheltcr in Silurian valet.'] Th hard Winters the Val of Glamorgan (part of the ancient Siluria) is frequented by many fvvans, from whence, I believe, is unknown. They always depart when the frofts are over. f Hillt Brigantian.] Brigantlum was the ancient name of the Northern parts of England. Whilft, POEMS. 123 Whilft, from its fount on yonder hill, Unfetter'd runs the rapid rill. The village boys with morn awake To trace the furface of the lake, And, thoughtlefs, run at paflion's call, In flipp'ry paths, where many fall : The juft refemblance let me fcan ; 'Tis rajb de/ire, unthinking man ; Though feeming joy thy wifli attends, The fell deceit in ruin ends. Obferve yon prattling lifper {train, To roll the fnow-ball o'er the plain j So mifers heap, with fore turmoil, What never can re-pay their toil. As trudging home befide the brook, With health redundant in his look, Yon fturdy farmer blows his nails, . And his unluckly lot bewails, Not deftin'd, like the drunken 'fquire, To lounge before the parlour fire ; G z Man, 124 POEMS. Man, difcontented with his fate, Ne'er fees the folly till too late. Now village curs, with echo'd howl, Scare from her haunt the plaintive owl, Foreboding billows loudly roar, And cloath in foam the rocky fhore j We guard againft the pelting rain, *Twill foon with fury fweep the plain. Wife Induflry, thou canft defy The terrors of a wintry fky ; When ftorms are fierce, and billows rude, Thou canft with eafe their force elude ; With foiling plenty ftore thy flied ; In warmth repofe thy pillow *d head ; Pile high thy crackling hearth, and tune A cheerful fong to rojy June. Important in his elbow chair, The village fage, in filver'd hair, With felf-applauding glee, repeats His well-known tale of youthful feats : He POEM S. 125 He was a very blade, he fays, Not like your louts of modern days ; He won at wreftling many a prize ; Could nicely box a neighbour's eyes ; And, 'twas allow 'd by all the town, Could fairly drink a Par/on down. Thus, oddly thus, we grafp at fame, Puff to the world an odious name. How little is it understood, That, to be great, we muft be good. Hark ! from yon dell what frightful found Spreads thund'ring horror all around ! Sweet thrufli ! firft herald of theUpring, Joy warm'd my foul to hear thee fing j What time appear'd the primrofe pale, Near my lone arbour in the dale j Where warbled wild thy carols gay, Prophetic of the lovely May ; Now, bleeding from thy mortal wound, I view thee, flutt'ring, on the ground ; G 3 ' But i*6 POEMS, But cruelty could ne'er appall The ruthlefs heart that doom'd thy fall. Thou, that in blood canft thus delight, Steel well thy foul, court fame, and fight, With well-directed cannon balls Knock down ten thoufand harmlefs Gauls, Drink human gore, and laugh thy fill At Him who faid, " Thoujbalt not kill." I, who for Britain, France, and Spain, Crave peace from Heav'n, and crave again, Unmindful of the puffs of Fame, Weep, and deteft the warrior's name. Jf, in life's- road, it be my chance To meet a brother born in France, A ftrr.nger in the. fangs of grief, Where no kind hand affords relief; He, though contending cannons roar, Shall open find my friendly door ; And, fpite of all that Kings command, Find in. my cot his native land, My POEM S. 127 My peaceful cot, fecluded far From Hell- born rage of ruthlefe war. Nature each cruel thought repel?, Rare is that heart where nature dwells ; Where foft compaffion is combin'd With ev'ry motion of the mind ; Where genial feelings form the man On fearlefs Love's eternal plan. What midnight horrors., raging high, Aflemble in the ftormy Iky ! The forky lightnings now defcend; But reft in peace, my foreign friend ; They thunder harmlefs o'er thy head, Not level'd at this humble flied : No dread We feel, an anger'd GOD Finds here no vile OppreJJor's rod: Though 'tis thy lot awhile to part From each dear object of thy heart,> All Nature, at one GREAT Command, Shall guard them with parental hand ; G 4 Thou ia8 POEMS. Thou flialt behold again with joy, Thy prattling girl, thy lifping boy; And, doom'd in grief no more to roam, Enjoy through life ihy native home, BA- POEMS. 129 DAMON'S FAREWEL. N G. I. xTjL M I doom'd, O ! my Phillis, no more to purfue My claim, once allow'd, in thy heart ? Muft I bid thee, my charmer, for ever adieu ? With my life's only happinefs part ? No tongue can, alas ! the wild agonies tell That rend my lad foul thus to bid thee farenuel, 2. How fad to recall the paft moments of biifs, When thy look fpoke thee conftant and kind ! When I hung on thy lips in a rapturous kifs j A monarch, and more, in my mind ! G 5 Cut J3.0 P O E M S. .But no more muft this heart with love's ecftaey; fwell ; My Phillis, how cruel ! now bids mefarewel. 3- What vifions oFhappinefs blaz'don my view, When I, thoughtlefs, gave way to my love ! But Phillis confented, and,fwore to be true j 'Twas an oath by the Powers above. Now fable defpair muft all comfort expel ; She gives the command, I muft bid her fare--wel. 4* To wander, to weep, through life's defart alone^ Muil hence be my comfortlefs fare j My forrows unpity'd, unheeded my moan, Like the turtle, depriv'd of his mate. O I Death ! when wilt thou my deep anguifh difpel ? 'Tis death, worfe than dea'.h, to bid Phillis/*n?'uW. . FARE. POEMS. 131 5- FAREWEL, my dear Phillis ; may Fortune befriend Thy wiilies, and wait on thee ftill ! May the joys of all Nature thy moments attend, Like flaves that fubmit to thy will ! On thy name haplefs Damon will dolefully dwell, Wuilft, whelm'd in diftra&ion, he bids thee 'farewell G 6 LIBERTY- P O E M S, LIBERTY, A SONG. W H I L S T the whining Lover flies To fome far-fequefter'd cave, Eootlefs there to vent his fighs To the ftorms that loudly rave ; Liberty, thy charms I fing ; Let the rounds with echo ring. 2. Subjeft to no tyrant fway, Saucy love, or defpot king, Free as air I pafs the day, And give fneaking Care the fling: Free-born Britons, join with roc ; 'Tfs the fong of Liberty. 3. Love, POEMS. 3- Love, 'tis true, defpotic rules On Britannia's verdant plains ; Turns Philofophers to fools; How they hug their galling chains ! Slaves that, fcorning to be free, Boaft their lofe of Liberty. 4- Long I bore Belinda's yoke, Long I ftruggled in her toils ; From her gaol at laft I broke j Freed my heart from fore turmoils. Now, poor Love, I laugh at thee j And am blefs'd with Liberty, Soul-exalting Liberty, Source of peace and fweet content,. Nature, ever fond of thee, Rambles o'er thy wide extent: And 134 POEMS. And the Mufe exerts her glee, When (he fings of Liberty. 6. Fill the glafs another fong How yon Lover {links away ! Bear the chorus brifk along ; Mirth demands the fportive lay : Toaft around the bliisful trine, FRIENDSHIP, LIBERTY, and WINE. O N POEMS. O N LOVE. WRITTEN IN 1777. I HOP'D, within this lonely bortY,. In penfive eafe reclin'd, To iteal from care one peaceful hour, With fong to foothe my mind j An old, but yet unconquer'd, thrill Deprives my thought of reft ; Ifeel the flame of paffion ftiH ' Unimother'd in my breafr; 2. Love, 136 POEMS. Love, bold intruder, fince my lay Derives a theme from thee, My bovv'r approach; but drive away That fiend Hypocrify : Come fimple, as in days of yore, Untried in feats of art : Attend me thus, I '11 own thy pow'r j Admit thee to my heart. 3- Yet there Sufpicion's careful eye Shall watch thy varied wiles j Nor dare, in wild'ring hope, rely On bright bewitching fmiles : I know thy wifli, 'twas once betray'd j In Falfliood's fetters caught ; Though living ftill, it feels afraid, And wears the fliield of thought. POEMS. 137 4 Art thou that fofi unchanging love, Affliaion's beft relief? That fmiling cherub, from above, That cheers defponding grief? That fweetly deals the fov'reign balm When Anguifli tears the breaft ? That can the rankled feelings calm, And charm the foul to reft ? Or art thou not, in borrow'd form, Th pamper'd imp of Luft, Or fpawn of Av'rice, that vile worm, That feeds on filthy duft ? Be gone ! the deep deceit I fear, Hence wing thy fpeedy flight ! I fee thy cloven foot appear, Though clad in robes of light. 6. I faw i 3 POEM S. 6. I faw the vi'let of the vale Expand in early bloom ; Morn fent abroad the fanning gale, Fraught with its rich perfume ; But, courting Noon's refulgent hour, How vapid falls thy head ! Thy tranfient fweets, neglected flow'r, Are gone for ever fled. 7- Juft emblem of roy Celia's love I Bright was its morning ray ; Twas fancy M once the Turtle Dove r But vanifh'd loon away: Her eyes were drawn by golden views, For wealth (he forely pin'd ; And I had nothing, but the Mufe, To pleafe her felfifli mind- 8. Say, POEMS. 1 . 8. &y, Celia, whence th' unufual gloom That hangs upon thy brows ? J faw thy cheek with beauty bloom, With Health's delicious rofe : b*m;iEY, He, that thy faithlefs hand obtain'd, A Mifer forely crofs'd, Slights all thy charms, no pelf he gain'd, And all his joys are loft. 9- Mad paflions, that I felt with pain, My thoughts no longer vex ; Nor fliall this bofom bleed again For thy deceitful fex : Yet, to fublimer love awake, My foul, with warm embrace, Can, in its wide expanfion, take The whole of human race. 10. la- POEMS. Infpirer of th' angelic lay, Dove-ey'd Benevolence j I join the few that leek thy way, Warm'd by thy nobler fenfe : Plant all thy feelings in my breaft; Thy fervent wifti impart : Of all its hidden fprings poflefs'd, Reign Monarch of my heart. THE POEMS. 141 THE POWER OF INNOCENCE. From the Weljb. 1 HAVE felt the rough North, and fierce fangs of the froft, On the bed of difeafe by {harp anguifh been toft j Thefe agoniz'd nerves were once horribly pain'd, When long on my flefli the live embers remain'd \ A torture ftill keener corroded my heart, From my love's darling objects doom'd fadly to part j All thefe have I felt, all with patience I bore, And, if Duty commands, I can ftruggle with more ; There 's a pain (till feverer, and bear it who can ? The flinging reproach of a fenfible man ; 'Tis Innocence can, without fhedding one tear; She can fmg in the flames, and triumphantly bear, i SO- 142 POEMS. SOLITUDE, From the J^eljb *. WRITTEN IN 1789. J A Y, why, my friend, would'ft thou perfuade Thy Bard to quit his tranquil fliade ? He dwells contented with his lot, Hid from the world in humble cot ; And, heedlefs of the glare of wealth, Finds all he wants in peace and health ; With hopes, when well-matur'd by age, To find himfelf a rural Sage. * From the Author's own Welfh 5 and it is always fo where no other name is given. Sweet POEMS. 143 Sweet Solitude has peerlefs charms, Where Virtue's glow the bofom warms ; Where waken'd Confcience feels no pain, And Reafon breaks dull Folly's chain; Where Tafte informs th' obfervant eye, That can bright Nature's charms defcry ; And where the ftrong, enlighten'd mind Can in itfelf fweet converfe find ; Can talk with Truth, too little known, That in the Confcience rears her throne. He, that avoids the jar of ilrife, Spends here unknown his quiet life ; The Mnfe, with Fancy's plaftic pow'r, Will vifit oft his lonely bow'r ; Inftruft him in the tuneful art, Illume his mind, refine his heart } And Wifdom fhall his thought expand, His foul is all at her Command : His breaft, where once wild Paflion ftorm'd, Is by Adverfity reform'd ; wi2* Blefs'd *44 P O E M S. Elefs'd in th' event, his grateful mind Adores the rod, and Hands refign'd, Submits, with reverential awe, To gracious Heav'n's unerring law. Reftor'd by this to mental eafe, He feels the lore of Nature pi eafe; And lays his head in downy reft, Meek Innocence, upon thy breaft ; Yet hears, with forrow, from afar, The madden'd world's eternal war ; Sees where the blamelefs heart is brolce By dire Oppreffion's galling yoke ; Where Kings, $katjfefc6 incarnate reign, With human carnage load the plain ; For this his bofom heaves the figh ; For this the tear ftreams from his eye. O ! when (hall man from difcord ceafe ? Rul'd by thy laws, thou Prince of Peace, Obey thy mandates from above, And own thy reign of endlefs Love, Behold, POEMS. 145 Behold, on Afrits beach, alone,- Yon fire that weeps with bitter moan ; She, that his life once truly blefs'd, Is torn for ever from his breaft, And, fcourged, where Britijb Monarch* reign, Calls for his aid, but calls in vain ; His fons, on Slavery's fhamelefs land, Now bleed beneath a Villains hand ; Their writhing frames how forely gall'd I Still Britons muft be Cbriftiaus call'd Their groans the wide horizon fill ! Vile Britons ! 'tis your Senate's will I ceafe- thofe cruelties affright A Mufe that fliudders at the fight. VOL, I. H FRAG- 146 f O M S. FRAGMENT. from tie Weljh. ET wealth, let fame, thofe dazzling gifts of Fate, Blefs all the wayward fons of pomp and ftate j Be mine the riches of a foul refin'd, The heart benevolent, the fpotlefs mind, To Heav'n's unerring will, in humble hope, re- "} - I fign'd. THE POEMS, THE DREAM, A PASTORAL. From the Wcljh. A H ! where art thou flown, lovely dream of de- light? Thy moments of blifs are all vanifli'd away ; All blended, alas ! with the deep fhades of night ; Why wak'd my fond thought to thy treacherous day? How fulgent the morn ! how refrefhing the gale ! May's melody warbled around in the grove ; With Phillis I walk'd, arm in arm, o'er the vale Her fmile, her foft look, fpoke the language of love. H* The 148 POEMS. The loud roar of thunder, the lightning's fierce gleam, Awake me to grief, all my blifs was a Dream. In the bloom-fpangled mantle of Beauty confefs'd, May charms the rapt eyes o'er the landfcapc around ; In delicate verdure the thickets are drefs'd ; Hills, woodlands, and vales, with fweet mufie refound ; I fit with my charmer beneath the green thorn, Where fweet rural fcenes open full to the view j Or walk with our flocks through the dews of the morn ; Cares quit my glad foul, I now bid them adieu. The Mnfe quickly grafp'd at the rapturous theme, Of happinefs fung but her fong was a Dream. 3, He POEMS. 149 3- How charming the fcene ! 'tis my favourite vale, Where I firft found the Mufe in gay fancies of youth ; Where firft to my Phillis I utter'd my tale Of paffion, of love, in the language of truth ; Here firft with rapt foul of her beauties I fung ; Here firft for my charmer in folitude mourn'd ; I now hear, with tranfport, her faultering tongue Confefs the warm wifli, and my love is return'd. Ah ! joy from my foul has withdrawn its bright beam, The phantom is flown with the treacherous Dream. .- 4- How lovely my Fair ! how enchanting her mien I How throbs my fond heart whilft I gaze on her charms ! In her all the graces of nature arc feen ; And all that the foul of a lover alarms : H 3 Her 250 POEMS. Her fweet rofy lips with warm rapture I kiis; I feel the flrong flame in my bofom arife ; My thoughts are alt \vhel m'd in a torrent of blifr^, My fenfea involv'd in a tender furprize. Love's joys I poflefs in a blifsful extreme 'Twas a fhade that all vanifh'd, poffefs'd in a Dream, 5 How oft have I languifh'd alone in this bow*r, Attempting to fly from the IHng of Defpair ! Sore bled my poor heart when Defpondency's hour Led on the fharp ranklings of Anguifh and Care s My love I declar'd whilft the witnefling tear Was treated with fcorn by the pitilefs maid : But now fhe relents, and my amiable Fair Has all my pad grief in one moment repaid. Nd longer I flrive againft Love's mighty flream j How glad ! how rejoic'd ! how deceiv'd ! in * Dream, 6. I onee, FOE M S. 15* 6. I once, with my flocks, unincumber'd with cares, Could whittle and fing through the Summer's long day j My rofes I cultur'd, or grafted my pears ; How pafs'd with delight my fweet moments away ! But pleafure no longer inhabits my breaft ; My lambs, my fweet garden, afford me no joy j I ramble the wilds., vainly fearching for reft, t And ev'ry warm thought on my Phillis employ. Laft night, with the fmile of Love's tender efteem. My charmer complied but complied in a Dream. 7- My joys are all dead, and, enchanted, no more- I gaze on my Phillis, and dwell on her charms j. Return, lovely dream, and, in pity, rcflorc My Fair-one again to my wide-op'ning arms ; H 4,. O ! bring 15* POEMS. O ! bring her again to this nook of the vale, On Love's tender errands delightfully bent ; And, whilft I repeat my foft amorous tale, Illumine her looks with the fmile of confent ; And let me, whilft bufied on this happy fcheme, Eternally deep, and eternally dream. SONNET. POEMS. 153 SONNET.. From the Weljb. L.J O V E is a wild confufion of the fou!, To brave its- pow'r enfeebled Reafon fails j The defpot reigns with abfolute controul, With ilrong enchantment ev'ry thought aflails : Where genial fenfibility prevails, Unguarded paflions catch its ardent fire, And, fewel'd high by Hope's alluring tales, Inflame the wilder'd mind with ftrange defire ; It leaves in joylefs calms th' imfavour'd breaft, Where fordid felf locks up the callous heart, But in the tender feeling lives confefs'd In vifions bright that thriving joys impart ; Song ftrives to paint it, efforts vainly fhewn, The vvordlefs .heait miift feel, or Love can ne'er be known. US IDEAL 154 P O E M IDEAL GRIEF, *Riuyf ccunydilyn rbot icn i'r By$) A gad* i \nrydynfydu, jfr foen, a' acbos, ful y faetb t V buna* ca:tb yn tyfu. This world I flander, to my fhame, Nor drive my paflions once to tame : Sharp ills I fee!, bat all, I find, Spring from my own unmanly mind. ^1 O W darknefs envelopes the grove, And dies the laft gleam of the Weft,. \\ hilft o'er the rough defart I rove, Indulging fad thoughts in my breaft;. Nor whirlwinds that fternly refound, Nor billows that irefully roll, All Winter's grim horrors around, Can equal the florm in my foul.. 5 ? O E M I climb the rude rocks in the dark, Till, wearied, I fall on the ground ; On days that are flown I remark, Whilil galling reflections abound ; I dwell on the falfhoods of Art ; Remember the tales I believ'd ; And, weeping, deplore my fond heart,, In Love and in Friendfhip deceived* All comfort is flown from my fight, But Solitude's gloomy relief, I ramble forlorn in the night, To ruminate wild on my grief: With Memory prompting the figh, With feelings that Villainy fmote, Vile man t from thy dwellings I fly To the caves of the mountain remote. H 6 4. My i$6 POEMS, 4. My foul with defpondency fraught Gave way to thofe phantoms of care, When the Angel of Reafon, I thought, Thus utter'd a voice in my ear : " Blind mortal, what makes thee complain, " To Frailty thus yielding thy mind ; " Mad Fancy creates all thy pain, *' Or Pride with wild Paffion combin'd," THE POEMS. 157 THE LINE OF BEAUTY. 'The Author was, one evening, invited to be of a party to fee the new-laid-out pleafure-grounds of a Gentleman* The walks waved regularly along the rectilinear fences with very minute fpirality, and crojfed the ground tit right angles, dividing the labor ioujly -levelled lawn into parts exaflly fquare and equal. Clumps of pine and flowering Jhrubs, of Jludied rotundity, bejludded the fmooth-Jhaven green at regular diftances j. and the ftijfeft formalities prevailed every where. The GarJene r who at- tended talked much of the LINE OF BEAUTY. " Curfc " your Line of Beauty," exclaimed the Bard.-~ il You mujf *' write afcng on the fuljefi" faid one of the Ladies. " By G you muft" cried a young Clergyman, *' and " the LINE OF BEAUTY muft conclude every ftanza : " find rhymes if you can." li I injift upon it" faid ano- ther Lady, *i that the Reverend SWEARER fiould have- 15* POEMS. *' a con/pi cuous place in the fong."- After an hour's re- tirement, the Author joined his good-humoured company *witb the following verfes : J. O view dull Falhion's boafted feats, Her formal clumps of pine, fiiy Her frizzled walks, her painted feats, And all things vaftly fine, fir. One ev'ning on her lawn we met; I tell the ftory true t' ye ; Our Bard look'd round, and, in a pet, He curs'd the Line of Beauty. This Bard was fare an oddity, Or fomething quite as bad, fir ; At crambo rhyming who, but he ! We thought the fellow mad, fir. Here! POEMS. 159 Here I take the fong I think 'twill give His mind's uncommon hue t' ye ' He Fafhion hates and, as I Kve, . Lampoons her line of beauty. 3- " From empyrean realms of light, *' Where Vice affrighted views thee; ** Look down, HOGARTH, from envy'd height, " And fee where fools abufe thee - " Ye, led by Tafte^ obferve this walk ; * 'Tis dullnefs full in view t'ye ; " Yon blockhead's boaft, whofe idle talk " Defames the line of beauty. 4* " Ye, taught in Art's pedantic fchools, " Ye flaves of fhipid Fafliion, " Hafle ! banifli hence your lifelefs rules ; " They put us in a paffion, "Ye 160 POEMS. " Ye break through Taile, through Nature's laws, " They bid a long adieu t' ye ; tf And leave the Bard an urgent caufe " To curfe your line of beauty. S- " But would ye ftudy Nature's charms, ' On plains Silurian greet her ; " She flies at PIERCEFIELD * to your arms, " On ITTON'S f lawns you '11 meet her; " There, haunting woods and vallies green, " She '11 with a fmile falute ye ; " Her fingers mark each lovely fcene V With perfect lines of beauty*. # PIERCEFIELD.] The celebrated feat of GEORCX SMITH, Efq. f ITTON COURT.] The feat of JOHN CURB T., Efq. The furrounding lantlfcapes, though of a different character from thofe at PIERCEFIELD, are extremely beautiful. 6. " Be- POEMS. 161 6. ' Behold yon mountain's airy flope, " Yon winding vale romantic, " Where Fancy takes unbounded fcope ; " Dull Critics think her frantic j " Unfetter'd there flie dwells with Taflc, " And lends her friendly clue t' ye ; See, pencil'd o'er the flow'ry wafte, " Her fportive lines of beauty, 7 *' In vain ye ply this naked ART, " \wrjiudiedforms are teazing ; " 'Tis NATURE only wins the heart ; " H-cr looks are ever pleafing; " Simplicity's unrivall'd grace " Has charms for ever new t* ye; " Then view fweet ANNA'S lovely face, " And blefs the line of beauty. 8. "I FOE M S. ' I heard the naughty Parfon fweaiv " The Ladies made wry faces ; He from that praaice rauft forbear^ " An oath his cloth difgraces ; " Avoid th' infeftious touch of Sia, tl Its venom will pollute ye ; *' Sweet Happinefs is found within. " The CHRISTIAN line of beauty 9 " To talk of Sin, you think me now '* Some cloud-exploring Myftic ; " Some Quaker ) fond of tbee and tbou-^ " Some preacher Metbodijiic : " However you nick- name the Bard, " He feeks the p^ths of Duty ; " And thinks it wifdom to regard " RELIGION'S line of ' beauty.J*' T O POEMS.; 163 TO THE NIGHTINGALE, A PASTORAL, From tie W~elJI} .. PEACEFUL Night now reigns around, Gives to folemn filence all, Save yon warbler's tuneful found,. And the diftant water-fall. 2. Fond of Quiet's milder fcene, Let me walk this lonely vale j , Whilft amid her thicket green, Sings the mournful Nightingale. jo Mufing. 164 P O E M S. 3- Mufing here I walk alone, Fancy points my devious way ; Lift'ning to thy melting tone, Songfter of departing day. 4' Here the brooklet purls along, Here I feel a warm delight j Where thy fweet unrivall'd fong Charms the flillnefs of the night. s- Now, depriv'd of balmy deep, By the tender cares of Love ; I with thee my vigils keep, Midnight warbler of the grove, 6. Oft I walk the dewy lawn, When, unfeen in matted thorn, Trills thy mufic to the dawn, Early minftrel of the morn. 7. Pleas'd POEM S. 16$ Pleas'd I liften on the plain, Where my fportive lambkins play ; Whilft thy voice, with varied ftrain, Fills the chorus of the day *. 8. Oft I leave the world behind, Often bend my pathlefs way Through this dale, with penfive mind, And attend thy foothing lay. Often, hid within the grove, Let me try thy tuneful art ; Whilft the fweet concerns of Love, Revel in my thrilling heart. * The Nightingale fings by DAY as well as by NIOH T. It it rather ftrange that this fadt has not been obferve'd by any of our Englilh Poets. EPITAPH j66 \P O E M S. EPITAPH ON AN OLD-FASHIONED FELLOW, ERE lies, beneath this verdant fod, One that believM there was a God : He ev'ry day the Bible read, What fancies fill'd the fellow's head ! He Pomp detefted, pity'd Kings, And thought ligb Titles worthlefs things ; Thought Beaus and Wits y with huge pretence, Had not one grain of common fenfe ; To grafp at 'wealth was not his rule, He, furely, was an arrant fool ; And to the Poor, imprudent, gave What wifer heads would ftrive to fave ; He 'POEM S. He always gave uncommon fcope To thofe old whimfies -Faith and Hope ; So much our lov'd purfuits would blame, We almoft felt a little fhame ; Now, dead and gone, we blcfs the day., He ftands no longer in the way. SELF- 168 POEMS. SELFISHNESS. O O M E boaft themfelves immenfely good, They never drench their hands in blood j Are loath to fteal their daily bread ; Nor once invade a neighbour's bed. We muft applaud their blamelefs courfe ; But fay, from what unfailing fource Thofe brilliant virtues ever flow ? The Gallows here, and Hell below. 'Tis not the foul on virtue bent, But felfifti fear of punifhment : Give Heav'n to thefe, and all is well ; Ihefrietutle/s GOD may go to Hell; May burn, where fiends infult his name, Unpity'd in th' eternal flame. THE POEMS. 169 THE HAPPY FARMER. A PASTORAL. Infer ibed to /fo GLAMORGAN Agricultural Society. 1 LIVE on my farm in a beautiful vale, Ye lovers of Nature attend to my tale ; No pride or ambition find room in my breaft, Thofe venomous foes of contentment and reft ; From found, healthy fleep I rife up ev'ry morn, To toil in my fields with my cattle and corn, And prefer, whilfl of rural employments I ling, The life of a Farmer to that of a King. VOL. I. I 2 . On 170 POEMS. On the fruits of my labour I look with delight, My meadows arc weedlefs, and gladden the fight ; The flocks in my pailures are fair to behold, Fine cows with large udders replenifh my fold ; My fields yield abundance, in tillage complete, Good barley, rich clover, and excellent wheat ; I the feafons attend, through their changeable round, In toils that with Plenty's rich bleffings are crown'd, My houfe is convenient, and whiten'd all o'er, An arbour or jeflkmine fronting the door ; 3Vly flourishing orchard abundantly bears Fine plumbs, golden-pippins, and bergamot pears ; The rofe, the fweet pink, in my garden are found, Where dainties of health for my table abound; I My mind, when fatigu'd, here I often unbend, Perufe a good book, or converfe with a friend. 4. With POEMS. 171 With rural amufcments, in fober delight, I brighten my thoughts, their long labours requite ; And over my ftubbles, when harveft is done, I range in the morn with my dog and my gun ; Now courfe the fleet hare on the fern-cover'd hill, Or angle for trout in a neighbouring rill ; And fometimes at eve, to enliven my foul, I ling with my friend o'er a temperate bowl. S- Where flocks and large herds in my paftures are feen, The cowflips, or daify, befpangle the green ; I vies/ my gay lambs nimbly frolic and play, Whilft under their feet fpring the beauties of May j Whilrt, joyful, obferving my flourifliing corn, The blackbird and linnet fing loud on the thorn : Nor would I my peaceful employments lay down, Or qui: my green fields, for the pomp of a crown. I 6. To 17* POEMS. 6. To Providence grateful, I pity the poor, Nor drive them in fadnefs away from my door ; Befriending my neighbours, I do all I can To aft the good part of a fenfible man : But fliould my griev'd conscience withhold itsapplaufe, And blame me for trampling on Charity's laws ; Then I mourn, and am penfive, upbraiding myfetf, But not like the Mifer that whines for his pelf. 7- Let lords of their high-founding titles be vain, Let flaves of mean av'rice in cities remain, Let thofe that court fame ramble wantonly far, And feek it in fields of deteftable war ; Let others go combat the rage of the feas, And barter for lucre contentment and eafe ; Whilft I live jn innocence, fhelter'd from harm, With Plenty and Peace on my flourifliing farm. The POEMS. 173 The Author thinks Pafloral a fpecies of Poetry that admits of as great a variety of fubje&s as any other whatever ; and that it is not neceffary, in the manner of modern Poets, to confine it folely to Love, and make his whining Jwatns ring perpetual changes on the names of Hard-hearted Phillis, And cold Amarillis, &c. &c. A Poet in the character of a Shepherd, an occu- pation the moft proper of all others to reprefent pri- meval fimplicity and virtue, defcribes objects as they naturally prefent themfelves to the fenfes, and affeft the mindj or utters fentiments that fpring from the fimple notions and inborn feelings of thofe that are unacquainted with the abftraftions of philofophy, and the complex ideas derived from art. The fliep- herd, who is the reprefentative and pupil of Na- ture, has, for his rural fong, at leaft as great a diverfity of themes as the more philofophic rhimer can boaft of; who, if he pleafes, may take to I 3 him- '74 POEMS. himfclf all the fine things of art, provided he leave the ijlvan Bard in full pofleffion of Nature. There are fome Clitics " *wl-o (as Dr. Jchnfon " obferves, and the cap often fits his own head) leve " to talk of what they do not knld, United, anxious, to proclaim The peerlefs glories of thy name j VOL. I, K 194 POEMS. Name far renown'd for worth complete, The greatefl of the tmly great. Thy favours were on all beftow'd, Whilft ev'ry look with rapture glow'd ; Thy Bard, efteem'd the nobler gueft, Was with diftinguifh'd bounty blefs'd ; The gifts of Nuno * could not excel The gloves that to my portion fell ; Surpaffing MORUAF'S * boon of old, For both my gloves were cramm'd with gold; AndRHYDDERcn's * hand could not reward With nobler meeds' his tuneful Bard. I with thy gifts will never part, Whillt life's warm blood flow.-, through my heart : The Warrior-draws his blade in vain; My gloves he never can obtain ; * NUDD, MORDAF, and RHYDDERCH, are, by the Bnrds, and in the Bnt'ijh Triads, called, " The three liberal Princes of Britain." Great POEMS. '95 Great IVOR'S friendship fhall infpire His Bard with ARTHUR'S * martial fire ; His grateful Bard, that dares advance, Unarm'd f , againft that warrior's lance ; * ARTHUR, after all the fables that have been told by GEOFFREY of Monmoutb, and a thonfand more, was no more than the fon of Mei RYC, the King of Glamorgan, elected to the chief command of the Britifli armies agaiaft the Saxons, as ap. pears from the ancient regifter of the cathedral chirch of La*-