THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD 
 ENDOWMENT FUND
 
 POEMS 
 
 B Y 
 
 DR. D O D D. 
 
 Quantum alii tribuunt intempeftivis conviviis quantum 
 denique aleae, quantum pilae, tantum mihi egomet ad 
 haec ftudia recolenda fumpfcro. 
 
 Cic. Orat. pro Arch. Poet. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED BY DRYDEN LEACH; 
 FOR THE AUTHOR. 
 
 M DCC LXVII. <r
 
 o 

 
 TO THE MEMORY 
 
 OF THE REV D . WILLIAM DODD, M. A. 
 
 MANY YEARS VICAR OF BOURN IN LlNCOLNSH IRE J 
 
 WHO DIED AUGUST 8, 1756. 
 
 AGED 54 : 
 AND OF ELIZABETH HIS WIFE, 
 
 WHO DIED MAY THE 2I ST . I755 
 AGED 55. 
 
 WORTHY PARENTS, 
 
 WHOSE PARTIAL FONDNESS ENCOURAGED, 
 BUT WHOSE WISE, SOLLICITOUS, AND EVER-VALUED 
 
 CARE 
 
 INABLED THEIR SON TOFAR BETTER PURSUITS, 
 THAN "THIS IDLE TRADE:" 
 
 THAT SON, 
 
 WITH THE HIGHEST FILIAL VENERATION, 
 
 INSCRIBES THIS LITTLE VOLUME OF POEMS, 
 
 AS AN HUMBLE, BUT AFFECTIONATE MONUMENT 
 
 OF THEIR MERIT, AND OF HIS LOV/. 
 
 BEST OF PARENTS ! 
 WE SHALL MEET AGAIN?
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 
 MO S T of the poems in this volume are juve- 
 nile performances ; the reft, the mere amufe- 
 inent of vacant moments * ; never fuffered to intrude 
 upon more important hours, or to interrupt better and 
 more ufeful occupations. Though the author lays no 
 great ftrefs upon them, nor builds any hope of increaf- 
 ing reputation upon their bottom ; yet, as many of 
 them have appeared in public, and are fcattered 
 through different mifcellanies, he was willing to col- 
 lect them together : and the rather, becaufe he is thus 
 enabled to pay a debt of filial affection ; and to leave 
 behind him a little memorialof himfelf, with thofe 
 who love him. 
 
 Southampton-Row, 
 February 14, 1767. 
 
 See preface to the Moral Pafiorals, page 207.
 
 THE 
 
 CONTENTS, 
 
 HYMN to good-nature I 
 
 The African prince to ZARA 8 
 
 ZARA to the African prince 15 
 
 Epiftle from Lincolnfhire 21 
 
 Cydippe to Leonzo 25 
 
 A day in vacation at college 28 
 
 Wit rewarded, or the double triumph 46 
 
 Cupid detefted, to Mifs W * * N 53 
 
 Clorinda's lamentation 57 
 
 To the author of Triftram Shandy 61 
 An elegy on the death of his royal highnefs the prince 
 
 of Wales 63 
 
 On
 
 vi CONTENio. 
 
 6n the death of the right reverend Anthony Ellis, 
 
 D. D. &c. 71 
 
 The Friend, an elegy, to J. D. Efq; 74 
 
 To the lord chancellor, in the perfon of a clergyman 
 
 preferred by him 76 
 
 The man of Southgate 49 
 
 Sonnet, occafioned by reading " The truth and Im- 
 
 " portance of natural and revealed religion." By S. 
 
 Squire, D. D dean of Briftol, &c. Sz 
 
 Gratitude and merit 83 
 
 Sonnet, on hearing a young lady fing Spenfer's Amo- 
 
 retti, &c. 84 
 
 To Daniel Webb, Efq; at Bath, on reading in MS. his 
 
 dialogue in favour of blank verfe 85 
 
 To Doaor Hayter, bifliop of London 85 
 
 Prologue to Milton's Comus, performed by fome young 
 
 gentlemen before their parents and relations 88 
 The eighteenth book of the adventures of Telema- 
 
 chus 90 
 
 To Mr. J. ., on the report of Mifs '$ 
 
 marriage j r 7 
 
 The fourth Olympic ode, of Pindar, from the Greek 12 1 
 The fixth 124 
 
 The feventh Pythian ode 132 
 
 The ninth 134 
 
 An ode to the marchionefs of Granby 140 
 
 An ode, occafioned by lady N d's being pre- 
 vented by illnefs from coming to the chapel of the 
 Magdftlen-houfe 148 
 
 Sufpence,
 
 CONTENTS. vii 
 
 Sufpence, an ode 153 
 
 To two agreeable fitters 1 5 5 
 
 Stanzas occafkmed by the foregoing 157 
 
 An ode, occafioned by a young lady's laughing at me 
 
 for flaying from an aflembly 159 
 
 A tale, occafioned by the fame young lady's refilling to 
 
 play at quadrille, when afked by a gentleman 16 1 
 Happinefs every where 166 
 
 Verfes on feeing the countefs of Hertford in tears at 
 
 the Magdalen-houfe 168 
 
 Society, an ode 172 
 
 The cuckow 175 
 
 The apology, tomifsl^ <t. 176 
 
 A fecond apology, to the fame 178 
 
 On feeing an old man begging oppofite an inn at 
 
 Hounflow 180 
 
 TomifsF r. 183 
 
 Sacred to humanity 185. 
 
 Good kings happy 189 
 
 Popularity, a thought from Shenftone 190 
 
 On feeing a fingle fwan on the banks of the Avon 191 
 Equality 192 
 
 Pious memory 193 
 
 Ode, written in the walks at Brecknock. To Bp. 
 
 Squire, &c. 196 
 
 Gratitude, an ode 199 
 
 Verfes, occafioned by a prefent of a mofs rofe-bud 202 
 
 ORAL
 
 viii CONTENTS. 
 
 MORAL PASTORALS, viz. 
 
 Preface 20? 
 
 I. The fon 2ll 
 
 II. The good old woman 2 t g 
 MI. Thefervant 22$ 
 
 IV. The mother 2 , 2 
 
 V. The hufband and wife 2 ^ 
 
 VI. The benevolent man 240 
 
 Diggon Davy's refolution on the death of his laft cow, 
 
 a paftoral 26o 
 
 Sufan and Rofalind; a paftoral 26- 
 
 The parfons ; an eclogue 2 - 
 
 POEMS.
 
 
 OEMS. 
 
 AN HYMN. TO GOOD-NATURE. 
 
 INSCRIBED TO OUR REMAINING FRIENDS AT 
 MARGATE. MDCC L X. 
 
 Hilarifque, tamen cum pondere, virtus. STAT. 
 
 HAIL, lovely nymph ! upon vvhofe dimpled cheek 
 Sits ever-fmiling Candor ! thee I wooe 
 At morn, at eve, and in my mid-day fong, 
 To blefs my focial walk.- Thou art the fun, 
 Its light, its lufrre to the moral world 
 Difpenfing : darknefs broods, and fallen gloom 
 Spreads her Black pall o'er every fcene of joy, 
 Where thy foft eyes with-hold the genial fmile. 
 
 Lift to thy fuitor, nymph ; extend thine hand, 
 White as the fvvan's foft down, to lead me home, 
 That I may dwell, for ever dwell with thee ; 
 And hold familiar converfe with thy fire 
 
 B Good
 
 2 POEMS. 
 
 Good Senfe, alert and vigorous old man : 
 
 And with thy fitter Pity oft retire 
 
 Into the lonely grove, to drop the tear, 
 
 To vent the figh humane! For thou, fvveet nymph, 
 
 Perfection's queen, Good Nature, thou waft born 
 
 JOf Tendernefs, the woodland fair, whom erft 
 Strong Senfe, thy fire robufl, in greenwood made, 
 Faft by a brook, which babbles thro' the dell, 
 By ruffet fern furrounded ; whom he met, 
 As wearied from the chace, he fought the ftream 
 To flake his thirft, and graceful bore his bow 
 
 Unftrung upon his fhoulder : There he met, 
 
 He faw, he lov'd, and to his fond embrace 
 Woo'd her, and won ; and cropt the precious rofe 
 Of her virginity : while Hymen's torch 
 Blaz'd with a double fplcndor : thou, fweet nymph, 
 Waft the lov'd produce of their firft young blifs ; 
 Good Nature, fprung from Tendernefs, the bride, 
 And manly Senfe, the jolly, happy groom ! 
 
 Thee, thee, I woo, fweet nymph, at morn, at eve, 
 At noon, at mid-day ; for thy tender heart, 
 Studious to kindle Satisfaction's glow 
 In each rofe-tinclur'd cheek, diidains to wound, 
 With flighted pain, the humbleft ; thou wouldft wipe 
 The tear from ev'ry eye ; and even the worm 
 Beneath thy feet, compaffionate, wouldft fave 
 From the leaft pang of corporal fufferance ! 
 Yet, to the ftoic apathy eftrang'd, 
 Thou canft, with fteady courage, probe to th' quick 
 The wound thou mean'ft to cure ; thou canft reprove 
 With all the fweet perfuafion of efteem : 
 And give a momentary pang, to free 
 
 The
 
 POEMS. 3 
 
 The worthy mind from its ignoble chain. 
 Tho' on the fvvifteft wings of panting love 
 Thou wouldft fly forth to work a brother's weal, 
 
 Thoughtlefs of toil ; yet art thou never led 
 
 An eafy captive, with compliance mean, 
 
 At the foft lure of every fyren fang, 
 
 Which trills delufive : thou art of thy fteps 
 
 No lefs obfervant, than of thy compeers, 
 
 Slow chofen, long approv'd; and firm can'fl Hand 
 
 The noify dafh of ignorant Vice's waves. 
 
 Not fo that counterfeit, who oft affumes 
 
 Thy name refpeftful, giglet, light, and bafe, 
 
 Daughter of Folly ; whofe unmeaning front 
 
 Wears the foft fimper of perpetual fmiles ! 
 
 Unballafted by virtue, and feduc'd 
 
 Ever to follow the gay painted barge, 
 
 That with obftreperous tumult fpreads its fails, 
 
 Its filken fails, as pleasure's gales mall blow 
 
 Upon Simplicity's moft perilous main ; 
 
 Improvident of danger ; and of chart, 
 
 Of compafs, and of anchor, madly void ! 
 
 No, gentle nymph, thy folid, foberer joys, 
 Approv'd while felt, and pleafmg on review, 
 Thy joys, of foft benignity, I'd tafte ; 
 Thy joys, which give its dignity, its worth 
 To this life, painful boon, when difcontent 
 Inverts the profpeft-glafs, and all things kens 
 Enlarg'd in foul Malignity's thick mift. 
 Then, foft Good-Nature, fhed, oh fhed thy light ; 
 Deign, Nymph, thy vivifying fmile ; may all 
 Before my fight be beautified by thee ! 
 Whether in folitude's mcandring {hades, 
 
 B 2 Amidil
 
 4 POEMS. 
 
 Amidft the upland copfe, cr by the fide 
 
 Of fedgy-fringed brook, along the mead 
 
 Bedeck'd with flowers, I ftray ; thou, thou, fair nympJr, 
 
 Illume the profpeft, thou the upland copfe, 
 
 And thou the fedgy-fringed brook, or mead, 
 
 Bedeck'd with flowrets, give me to behold 
 
 With placid fmiles, and approbation's warmth. 
 
 When by my Charmer's fide, my bride, my love, 
 Lift'ning I drink the mufic of her tongue, 
 Oh ftill and e'er be prefent ; give me eye* 
 To trace her every amiable perfection ; 
 To magnify her graces ; and to draw 
 The veil of fond affeftion, fond, not blind 
 O'er her minuter foibles, whence alas ! 
 Mortality, moft refin'd, fhall ne'er be free ! 
 
 And as in love, fo teach me toconverfe 
 In friendfhip's focial intercourfe ; oh teach 
 Each aflion to behold in faireft light : 
 Befl motives to aflign : to palliate faults : 
 Exculpate, where I may : and from the worft 
 Extract, and hold to view the worthy part : 
 While for the beft, the generous, and the good, 
 With joy exalted, I fland up, and fay, 
 " Behold his virtues; mark, and imitate." 
 But never may the curfe of envy's guilt 
 Lead me to pry out littlenefs and faults, 
 Where merit claims my praife : ancl bafely caufe 
 Even in a nut-fhell to comprife the worth, 
 While half the world will fcarce fuffice to hold 
 The thoufand faults, which my quick-fighted pride 
 Difcerns in him I envy. Hence the thought ; 
 Touch with the lenient balm of thy foft love, 
 
 Good-
 
 POEMS. 5 
 
 Good-Nature, gentle Nymph, the heart morofe, 
 
 The felf-tormenting heart, where thoughts, like thefe, 
 
 Corrofive gnaw ! Or if, my focial friends, 
 
 With whom, regretful, late I intermix'd 
 
 The parting palm, if hap'ly hearts like thefe 
 
 Be found amidft the bevy of bright nymphs, 
 
 Or fwains affiduous on fair Margate's more, 
 
 Ah, let us to Good-Nature ftrait prefer 
 
 A common prayer ; that either me would tear 
 
 The black empoifon'd drop forth from their breads : 
 
 Or warn ofF every tinge, defiling tinge 
 
 Of foul Malevolence, in old Ocean's waves, 
 
 The common purifier of human ills. 
 
 So fhall a general candor dwell ferene 
 On every brow ; and each, with generous toil, 
 Shall labour to diitufe the heart-felt blifs 
 Of fweet benevolence: fo a dawn of Heaven 
 Shall beam upon the mind, where faints feel joy 
 Consummate ; ever lov'd, becaufe in love 
 They ever live harmonious ; ever bleft, 
 For blefiing is the bufmefs of their lives ! 
 
 Oh ! while on Margate's fea-worn coafl you tread, 
 And court the rofy nymph, Hygeia f bleft, 
 To your embraces, in the briny waves : 
 May foft Good-Nature, on each focial fcheme 
 Attend concomitant : whether you tread 
 With jocund feet to Draper's *, or Nam-court * : 
 Or, with profound amaze, from Light-houfe *, view 
 The vaft domain of Neptune, and admire 
 
 f GoJdefs of health. 
 
 * * * Places of ufual refort near Margate^ 
 
 His
 
 6 POEMS. 
 
 His azure waves, fring'd with the filver foam ; 
 
 Whether on fober palfry, or in coach 
 
 Drawn by Margatian fteeds, much toil'd, ill fed, 
 
 You vifit, or fam'd Ramfgate's rifing pier, 
 
 Slow work of public coft : or the vaft cliffs 
 
 And fcenes romantic of fair Dover view ; 
 
 Whence late, fo late, we faw with cheerful eye, 
 
 The chalky face of Gallia's hoftile coaft, 
 
 Nor felt a terror (fons of dauntlefs prowefs) 
 
 So near us tho' the foe ; where late we flood 
 
 Mere pigmies on the ftrand ; and ftrain'd our fight 
 
 To reach the top of that cloud-vefted cliff, 
 
 Meet emblem of his genius *, high who towers 
 
 Above his brother bards, as that white rock, 
 
 Finn-rooted as his fame, rears o'er the reft 
 
 Its fearful nodding fummit ! or if at home, 
 
 In all the elegance of drefs, you tread, 
 
 And give a luflre to the fprightly rooms, 
 
 Where beams young Love in many a fair one's eye ; 
 
 Where- e'er you pafs ; ah ! may the fmiling nymph 
 
 Diffufe her joys emollient ; (he can gild 
 
 The gloomiefl fcenes ; and, perfeft chemift me, 
 
 Whate'er fhe touches turns to pureft gold. 
 
 Then farewell, oh my friends! and, ye white cliffs, 
 Beneath whofe towering height fo oft I walk'd 
 On the fmooth level fand ; while all my foul 
 Was wrapt into aftonimment and praife 
 At thy tremendous works, Maker omnipotent ! 
 Then farewell, oh my friends ! but thou, lov'd nymph, 
 Good-Nature, fprung from Tendernefs and Senfe, 
 
 * Shakefpeare.
 
 POEMS. 7 
 
 I bid not thee farewell ; no ; till the hour 
 
 When the Great Matter fummons me to leave 
 
 Terreftrial peace and harmony, for peace 
 
 And harmony, perennial, in the realms 
 
 Of blifs unutterable ; thee will I woo ! 
 
 Oh, ftill attend me thro' the walk of life, 
 
 Smile on my brow, and triumph in my heart. 
 
 So mall I reft me on the down of peace ; 
 
 So mail my weeping friends, when the laft figh 
 
 Declares departed life, fmiting their breafts 
 
 Say " Lov'd he liv'd, and loving: peace to his 
 
 made, 
 " Embalm him, Memory, and receive him, Heaven!" 
 
 THE
 
 S POEMS. 
 
 THE AFRICAN PRINCE, 
 
 WHEN IN ENGLAND, MDCCXLIX. 
 TO ZARA AT HIS FATHER'S COUP. T. 
 
 INSCRIBED TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE 
 EARL OF HALIFAX. 
 
 PRinces, my fair, unfortunately great, 
 Born to the pompous vafTalage of ftate, 
 Whene'er the public calls, are doom'd to fly 
 Domeftic blifs, and break the private tie. 
 Fame pays with empty breath the toils they bear, 
 And love's foft joys are chang'd for glorious care. 
 Yet confcious virtue, in the filent hour, 
 Rewards the hero with a noble dower. 
 For this alone I dar'd the roaring fea, 
 Yet more, for this I dar'd to part with thee. 
 But while my bofom feels the nobler flame, 
 Still, unreprov'd, it owns thy gentler claim. 
 Tho' virtue's awful form my foul approves, 
 } Tis thine, thine only, Zara, that it loves. 
 A private lot had made the claim but one, 
 The prince alone muft love, for virtue, Ihun. 
 Ah ! why, diitinguifh'd from the happier crowd, 
 To me the blifs of millions difallow'd ? 
 Why was I fingled for imperial fway, 
 Since love, and duty, point a different way ? 
 
 Fix'd the dread -voyage, and the day decreed, 
 When duty's vidlim, love, was doom'd to bleed, 
 
 Too
 
 POEMS. 9 
 
 Too well my memory can thofe fcenes renew, 
 
 We met to figh, to weep our laft adieu. 
 
 That confcious palm, beneath whofe towering fhade 
 
 So oft our vows of mutual love were made ; 
 
 Where hope fo oft anticipated joy, 
 
 And plann'd of future years the bleft employ ; 
 
 That palm was witnefs to the tears we fhed, 
 
 When that fond hope, and all thofe joys were fled. 
 
 Thy trembling lips, with trembling lips, I prefs'd, 
 
 And held thee panting to my panting breaft. 
 
 Our forrow, grown too mighty to fuftain, 
 
 Now fnatch'd us, fainting, from the fenfe of pain. 
 
 Together finking in the trance divine, 
 
 I caught thy fleeting foul, and gave thee mine. 
 
 O ! bleft oblivion of tormenting care ! 
 
 O ! why recall'd to life and to defpair ? 
 
 The dreadful fummons came, to part and why? 
 
 Why not the kinder fummons but to die ? 
 
 To die together were to part no more, 
 
 To land in fafety on fome peaceful fliore, 
 
 Where love's the bufmefs of immortal life, 
 
 And happy fpirits only guefs at ftrife. 
 
 ' If in fome diftant land my prince mould find 
 
 " Some nymph more fair, you cried, as Zara kind" 
 
 Myfterious doubt ! which could at once impart 
 
 Relief to mine, and anguifh to thy heart. 
 
 Still let me triumph in the fear expreft, 
 
 The voice of love that whifper'd in thy breafl ; 
 
 Nor call me cruel, for my truth fhall prove 
 
 'Twas but the vain anxiety of love. 
 
 Torn from thy fond embrace, the ftrand I gain, 
 Where mourning friends inflift fuperfluous pain; 
 
 C My
 
 to POEMS. 
 
 My father there his ftruggling fighs fuppreft, 
 And in dumb anguifh clafp'd me to his breaft ; 
 Then fought, conceal'd the conflict of his mind, 
 To give the fortitude he could not find ; 
 Each life-taught precept kindly he renew'd, 
 " Thy country's good, faid he, be ftill purfued ! 
 " If, when tne gracious gods my fon reftore, 
 " Thefe eyes mail fleep in death, to wake no more; 
 " If then thefe limb?, which now in age decay, 
 " Shall mold'ring mix with earth's parental elay ; 
 " Round my green tomb perform the facred rite, 
 " Aflume my throne, and let thy yoke be light ; 
 " From lands of freedom glorious precepts bring, 
 " And reign at once a father and a king." 
 
 How vainly proud, the arrogantly great 
 Prefume to boart a monarch's godlike ftate I 
 Subjeft alike, the peafant and the king, 
 To life's dark ills, and care's corroding fting. 
 From guilt and fraud, that ftrike in filence fure, 
 No fhield can guard us, and no arms fecure. 
 By thefe, my fair, fubdu'd, thy prince was loft, 
 A naked captive on a barb'rous coaft ! 
 
 Nurtur'd in eafe, a thoufand fervants round 
 My wants prevented, and my wifhes crown'd; 
 No painful labours ftretch'd the tedious day, 
 On downy feet my moments danc'd away. 
 Whene'er I look'd, officious courtiers bow'd, 
 Where'er I pafs'd, a fhouting people croud ; 
 No fears intruded on the joys I knew, 
 Each man my friend, my lovely miftrefs you. 
 What dreadful change ! abandon 'd and alone, 
 The fhouted prince is now a flave unknown ; 
 
 To
 
 POEMS. ii 
 
 To watch his eye no bending courtiers wait, 
 
 No hailing crowds proclaim his regal ftate ; 
 
 A flave condemn'd, with unrewarded toil, 
 
 To turn, from morn to eve, a burning foil. 
 
 Fainting beneath the fun's meridian heat, 
 
 Rouz'd by the fcourge, the taunting jeft I meet : 
 
 " Thanks to thy friends, they cry, whofe care recalls 
 
 " A prince to life, in whom a nation falls !" 
 
 Unwholfome fcraps my ftrength but half fuftain'd, 
 
 From corners glean'd, and even by dogs difdain'd ; 
 
 At night I mingled with a wretched crew, 
 
 Who by long ufe with woe familiar grew ; 
 
 Of manners brutifh, mercilefs and rude, 
 
 They mock'd my fufterings, and my pangs renew'd ; 
 
 In groans, not fleep, I pafs'd the weary night, 
 
 And rcfe to labour with the morning light. 
 
 Yet, thus of dignity and eafe beguil'd, 
 Thus fcorn'd and fcourg'd, infulted and revil'd, 
 If heav'n with thee my faithful arms had bleft, 
 And fill'd with love my intervals of reft, 
 Short tho' they were, my foul had never known 
 One fecret wifh to glitter on a throne ; 
 The toilfome day had heard no figh of mine, 
 Norftripes, nor fcorn, had urg'd me to repine. 
 A monarch flill, beyond a monarch bleft, 
 Thy love my diadem, my throne thy bread ; 
 My courtiers, watchful of my looks, thy eyes, 
 Should mine, perfuade, and flatter, and advife ; 
 Thy voice my mufic, and thy arms fliould be 
 Ah ! not the prifon of a (lave in me ! 
 Could I with infamy content remain, 
 And \vi(h thy lovely form to {hare my chain ? 
 
 C 2 Could
 
 12 POEMS. 
 
 Could this bring eafe? forgive th' unworthy thought* 
 And let the love, that finn'd, atone the fault. 
 Could I, a flave, and hopelefs to be free, 
 Crawl, tamely, recent from the fcourge, to thee ? 
 Thy blooming beauties could thefe arms embrace ? 
 My guilty joys enflave an infant race ? 
 No : rather blaft me lightnings, whirlwinds tear, 
 And drive thefe limbs in atoms thro' the air ; 
 Rather than this, O ! curfe me ftill with life, 
 And let my Zara fmile a rival's wife : 
 Be mine alone th' accumulated woe, 
 Nor let me propagate my curfe below. 
 
 But, from this dreadful fcene, with joy, I turn ; 
 To truft in heaven, of me, let Zara learn. 
 The wretch, the fordid hypocrite, who fold 
 His charge, an unfufpecling prince, for gold, 
 That juftice mark'd, whofe eyes can never fleep, 
 And death, commiffion'd, fraote him on the deep. 
 The gen'rous crew their port in fafety gain, 
 And tell my mournful tale, nor tell in vain ; 
 The king, with horror of th' atrocious deed, 
 In haile commanded, and the flave was freed. 
 No more Britannia's cheek the blufh of fhame 
 Burns for my wrongs, her king reftores her fame : 
 Propitious gales, to freedom's happy more, 
 Waft me triumphant, and the prince reftore ; 
 Whate'er is great and gay around me mine, 
 And all the fplendor of a conrt is mine. 
 Here knowledge too, by piety refin'd, 
 Sheds a bleft radiance o'er my bright'ning mind ; 
 From earth I travel upward to the fky, 
 I learn to live, to reign, yet more, to die. 
 
 O!
 
 POEMS. * 3 
 
 ! I have tales to tell, of love divine 
 Such blifsful tidings ! they fhall foon be thine. 
 
 1 long to tell thee, what, amaz'd, I fee, 
 What habits, buildings, trades, and polity ; 
 How art and nature vie to entertain, 
 
 In public (hows, and mix delight with pain. 
 
 ! Zara, * here, a ftory like my own, 
 
 With mimic (kill, in borrow'd names, was fhown; 
 An Indian chief, like me, by fraud betray'd, 
 And, partner in his woes, an Indian maid. 
 
 1 can't recall the fcene, 'tis pain too great, 
 And, if recall'd, mould fhudder to relate. 
 
 To write the wonders here, I ftrive in vain ; 
 Each word would afk a thoufand to explain. 
 The time mall come, O ! fpeed the ling'ring hour ! 
 When Zara's charms fhall lend defcription power ; 
 When plac'd befide thee, in the cool alcove, 
 Or thro' the green Savannahs as we rove, 
 The frequent kifs fhall interrupt the tale, 
 And looks (hall fpeak my fenfe, tho' language fail. 
 Then fhall the prodigies, that round me rife, 
 Fill thy dear bofom with afweet furprize; 
 Then all my knowledge, to thy faithful heart, 
 With danger gain'd, fecurely I'll impart. 
 Methinks I fee thy charming looks exprefs 
 Th' alternate fenfe of pleafure and diftrefs ; 
 As all the windings of my fate I trace, 
 And wing thy fancy fwift from place to place. 
 
 * He alludes to the play of Oroonoko, at which he was prefent, 
 and fo affe&ed as to he unable to continue, during its performance, 
 in the houfe. 
 
 Yet
 
 14 POEMS. 
 
 Yet where, alas ! has flatt'ring thoughts convey'd 
 The ravim'd lover, with his darling maid ? 
 Between us, ftill, unmeafur'd oceans roll, 
 Which hoftile barks infeft, and ftorms controul. 
 Be calm my bofom, fince th' unmeafur'd main, 
 And hoftile barks, and ftorms, are God's domain: 
 He rules refiftlefs, and his power fhall guide 
 My life in fafety o'er the roaring tide ; 
 Shall blefs the love, that's built on virtue's bafe, 
 And fpare me to evangelize my race. 
 Farewell ! thy prince ftill lives, and ftill is free : 
 Farewell ! hope all things j and remember me. 
 
 Z A R A,
 
 POEMS. 15 
 
 Z A R A, 
 
 AT THE COURT OF ANNAMABOE, 
 TO THE AFRICAN PRINCE, WHEN IN ENGLAND. 
 
 SHould I the language of my heart conceal, 
 Nor warmly paint the paffion that I feel ; 
 My rifing wifli fhould groundlefs fears confine, 
 And doubts ungen'rous chill the glowing line; 
 Would not my prince, with nobler warmth, difdain 
 That love, as languid, which could ftoop to feign ? 
 Let guilt difTemble in my faithful breaft 
 Love reigns unblam'd, and be that love confeft. 
 I give my bofom naked to thy view, 
 For, what has fhame with innocence to do ? 
 In fancy, now, I clafp thee to my heart, 
 Exchange my vows, and all my joys impart. 
 I catch new tranfport from thy fpeaking eye ; 
 But whence this fad, involuntary figh ? 
 Why pants my bofom with intruding fears ? 
 Why, from my eyes, diftil unbidden tears ? 
 Why do my hands thus tremble as I write ? 
 Why fades thy lov'd idea from my fight ? 
 Oh ! art thou fafe, on Britain's happy (hore, 
 From winds that bellow, and from feas that roar ? 
 And has my prince (Oh, more than mortal pain !) 
 Betray'd by ruffians, felt the captive's chain ? 
 Bound were thofe limbs, ordain'd alone to prove 
 The toils of empire, and the fweets of love ? 
 
 Hold,
 
 i6 POEMS. 
 
 Hold, hold ! Barbarians of the fierceft kind ! 
 Fear heaven's red lightning 'tis a prince ye bind ; 
 A prince, whom no indignities could hide ; 
 They knew, prefumptuous ! and the gods defy'd. 
 Where'er he moves, let love-join'd rev'rence rife, 
 And all mankind behold with Zara's eyes ! 
 
 Thy breaft alone, when bounding o'er the waves 
 To freedom's climes, from flavery and flaves ; 
 Thy breaft alone the pleafing thought can frame 
 Of what I felt, when thy dear letters came : 
 A thoufand times I held 'em to my breaft, 
 A thoufand times my lips the paper preft : 
 My full heart panted with a joy too ftrong, 
 And " Oh my prince !" died falt'ring on my tongue : 
 Fainting I funk, unequal to the ftrife, 
 And milder joys fuftain'd returning life. 
 Hope, fweet enchantrefs, round my love-fick head 
 Delightful fcenes of bleft delufion fpread. 
 
 " Come, come, my prince! my charmer! hafteaway; 
 " Come, come, I cry'd, thy Zara blames thy ftay. 
 " For thee, the fhrubs their richeft fvveets retain ; 
 *' For thee, new colours wait to paint the plain ; 
 " For thee, cool breezes linger in the grove, ' , 
 ' The birds expedl thee in the green alcove ; 
 " 'Till thy return, the rills forget to fall, 
 ' 'Till thy, return, the fun, the foul of all 
 " He comes, my maids, in his meridian charms, 
 " He comes refulgent to his Zara's arms : 
 " With jocund fongs proclaim my love's return ; 
 " With jocund hearts his nuptial bed adorn. 
 '* Bright as the fun, yet gentle as the dove, 
 " He comes, unking majefty and love." 
 
 Too
 
 POEMS. 17 
 
 Too foon, alas ! the bleft delufion flies ; 
 
 Care fwells my breaft, and forrow fills my eyes. 
 
 Ah ! why do thy fond words fuggeft a fear 
 
 Too vaft, too num'rous, thofe already here ! 
 
 Ah ! why with doubts torment my bleeding breaft, 
 
 Of feas which ftorms controul, and foes infeft ! 
 
 My heart, in all this tedious abfence, knows 
 
 No thourhts but thofe of ftorms, and feas, and foes. 
 
 Each joylefs morning, with the rifing fun, 
 Q^uick to the ftrand my feet fpontaneous run, 
 " Where, where's my prince! what tidings have ye 
 
 " brought?" 
 
 Of each I met, with pleading tears I fought. 
 In vain I fought, fome, confcious of my pain, 
 With horrid filence pointed to the main. 
 Some with a fneer the brutal thought expreft, 
 And plung'd the dagger of a barb'rous jeft. 
 Day follow'd day, and ftill I wifh'd the next, 
 New hopes ftill flatter'd, and new doubts perplex'd j 
 Day follow'd day, the wifh'd to-morrow came, 
 My hopes, doubts, fears, anxieties the fame. 
 
 At length" O pow'r fupreme ! whoe'er thou art, 
 " Thy fhrine the fey, the fea, the earth, or heart ; 
 " Since ev'ry clime, and all th' unbounded main, 
 " And hoftile barks, and ftorms, are thy domain ; 
 " If faithful paflion can thy bounty move, 
 " And goodnefs fure muft be the friend of love, 
 *' Safe to thefe arms my lovely prince reftore, 
 " Safe to his Zara's arms, to part no more. 
 " O ! grant to virtue thy protecting care, 
 *' And grant thy love to love's availing pray'r. 
 
 D " Together,
 
 18 POEMS. 
 
 " Together, then, and emulous to praife, 
 " A flaw'ry altar to thy name we'll raife; 
 " There, firftandlaft, on each returning day, 
 " To thee our vows of gratitude we'll pay." 
 
 Fool that I was, to all my comfort blind, 
 Why, when thou went'ft, did Zara ftay behind ? 
 How could 1 fondly hope one joy to prove, 
 'Midft all the wild anxieties of love ? 
 
 Had fate in other mold thy Zara form'd, 
 And my bold breaft with manly friendfhip warm'd, 
 How had I glow'd exulting at thy fide, 
 How all the Ihafts of adverfe fate defy'd ! 
 Or yet a woman, and not nerv'd for toil, 
 With thee, oh ! had I turn'd a burning foil ! 
 In the cold prifon had I lain with thee, 
 In love flill happy, we had ftill been free; 
 Then fortune brav'd, had own'd fuperior might, 
 And pin'd with envy, while we forc'd delight. 
 
 Why mould'ft thou bid thy love remember thee? 
 Thine all my thoughts have been, and ftill fhall be. 
 Each night, the cool Savannahs have I fought, 
 And breath'd the fondnefs of enamour'd thought ; 
 The curling breezes murmur'd as I figh'd, 
 And hoarfe, at diftance, roar'd my foe, the tide : 
 My breaft ftill haunted by a motly train, 
 Now doubts, now hopes prevail'd, now joy 7 now pain. 
 Now fix'd I ftand, my fpirit fled to thine, 
 Nor note the time, nor fee the fun decline ; 
 
 Now rouz'd I ftart, and wing'd with fear I run, 
 In vain, alas ! for 'tis myfelf I'd Ihun. 
 When kindly fleep its lenient balm fupply'd, 
 And gave that comfort, waking thought deny'd. 
 
 Lafl
 
 POEMS. 19 
 
 Laft night but why, ah Zara! why impart, 
 The fond, fond fancies of a love-fick heart? 
 Yet true delights on fancy's wings are brought, 
 And love's foft raptures realiz'd in thought 
 Laft night I faw, methinks I fee it now 
 Heav'n's awful concave round thy Zara bow ; 
 When fudden thence a flaming chariot flew, 
 Which earth receiv'd, and fix white courfers drew. 
 Then, quick tranfition, did thy Zara ride, 
 Borne to the chariot wond'rous by thy fide: 
 All glorious both, from clime to clime we flew, 
 Each happy clime with fweet furprize we view. 
 A thoufand voices fung " All blifs betide 
 " The prince of Lybia, and his faithful bride." 
 " 'Tis done, 'tis done" refounded thro' the flues, 
 And quick aloft the car began to rife ; 
 Ten thoufand beauties crouded on my fight, 
 Ten thoufand glories beam'd a dazzling light. 
 My thoughts could bear no more, the vifion fled, 
 And wretched Zara view'd her lonely bed. 
 Come, fweet interpreter, and eafe my foul; 
 Come to my bofom, and explain the whole. 
 Alas ! my prince yet hold, my ftruggling breaft I 
 Sure we fhall meet again, again be bleft. 
 " Hope all, thou fay'ft, I live, and ftill am free;" 
 Oh then prevent thofe hopes, and hafte to me. 
 Eafe all the doubts thy Zara's bofom knows, 
 And kindly flop the torrent of her woes. 
 
 But that I know too well thy gen'rous heart, 
 One doubt, than all, more torment would impart : 
 'Tis this, in Britain's happy courts to ftiine, 
 Amidft a thoufand blooming maids, is thine 
 
 D 2 But
 
 20 POEMS. 
 
 But thou, a thoufand blooming maids among, 
 Art ftill thyfelf, incapable of wrong; 
 No outward charm can captivate thy mind, 
 Thy love is friendmip heighten'd and refin'd ; 
 'Tis what my foul, and not my form infpires, 
 And burns with fpotlefs and immortal fires. 
 Thy joys, like mine, from confcious truth arife; 
 And known thofe joys, what others canft thou prize? 
 Be jealous doubts the curfe of fordid minds; 
 Hence jealous doubts, I give ye to the winds- 
 Once more, O come ! and fnatch me to thy arms; 
 Come, fhield my beating heart from vain alarms ! 
 Come, let me hang enamour'd on thy breaft, 
 Weep pleafing tears, and be with joy diftreft; 
 Let me flill hear, and ftill demand thy tale, 
 And oft renew'd, ftill let my fuit prevail. 
 Much ftill remains to tell and to enquire, 
 My hand ftill writes, and writing prompts defire; 
 My pen denies my laft farewel to write, 
 Still, ftill, " return," my wifhful thoughts indite. 
 Oh hear, my prince, thy love, thy miftrefs call, 
 Think o'er each tender name, and hear by all. 
 Oh ! pleafing intercourfe of foul with foul, 
 Thus, while I write, I fee, I clafp thee whole ; 
 And thefe kind letters trembling Zara drew, 
 In every line fhall bring her to thy view. 
 Return, return ; in love and truth excel ; 
 Return, I write; I cannot add, farewel. 
 
 AN
 
 POEMS. 2 , 
 
 AN EPISTLE FROM LINCOLNSHIRE, 
 
 TO A FRIEND IN THE ARMY. 
 
 J^T^WAS vain, my friend, to urge the kind requeft, 
 
 A Or hope one fpark of fancy in my breaft ; 
 While plagu'd with doubts, with diagrams and rules, 
 The heavy, learned lumber of the fchools : 
 As foon amidft deftruftion's thund'ring train, 
 While cannons roar'd, and thoufands ftrew'd the plain, 
 Cou'd you have fcorn'd the horrors of the war, 
 
 Sate down unmov'd, and fung of Kitty C . 
 
 But now the talk with pleafure I purfue, 
 And joy to pleafe myfelf in pleafing you: 
 For if you deem compliance forms the fong, 
 Mere complaifance you do the mufes wrong: 
 Much more miftake my bofom's kindling flame, 
 Which ne'er was languid to fo fweet a theme. 
 Nor be it faid, a poet wanted fire, 
 Where all the graces, all the nine confpire, 
 (Fair flefh and blood, not fancy's fabled throng) 
 To warm the heart and animate the fong. 
 
 Chance 'twill found ftrange, (then whifper'd let it be. 
 It matters not who hears, fave you and me:) 
 Boeotian fens, where fogs and dulnefs reign, 
 That they the graces, and the nine contain : 
 That beauty there enflaves the willing heart, 
 Without the prudilh elegance of art ; 
 That modeft virtue fcorns diflembling there, 
 Tremble ye belles, and all ye beaux defpair ! 
 
 What
 
 22 POEMS. 
 
 What tho' no mall with mincing fteps they pace, 
 Nor glitter in the box with borrow'd grace ; 
 What, though unlearn'd t' elaborate a figh, 
 While in foft ftrains the fofter eunuchs die : 
 What tho' to midnight mafks they never come, 
 Rufh to the rout, or riot at the drum : 
 Far diff'rent fcenes thofe happy plains engage, 
 The joys without the follies of the age. 
 
 Is there a fport ? that fport fair virtue guides ; 
 Is there a pleafure ? innocence prefides : 
 Beauty bright blooming leads the train along, 
 And fweet good-nature fmiles thro' all the throng ; 
 In human fhapes they joy the heart to warm, 
 Each fteals a J k n's, or a B th's form. 
 
 Why were we born a moment's blifs to mare, 
 And pine away whole ages in defpair? 
 Why was I bleft amidft that happy train, 
 So fhort the bleffing, and fo long the pain ? 
 Thus while 1 write my fick'ning fancy mourns, 
 Each fair idea to my view returns : 
 E'en now I fee the lovely nymphs advance 
 Form the gay ranks, and glide along the dance ; 
 E'en now, admiring each bright maid, I trace, 
 And wrapt in wonder cou'd for ever gaze. 
 But why, ah why the bluming lover fpare, 
 Too well thou know'ft ah ! why was Delia there ? 
 Alas, how chang'd ! from what fair glory loft, 
 The maiden's envy, and the matron's boafl ! 
 From clime to clime by bufy cenfure borne, 
 Contempt's beft theme, and fenfe and reafon's fcorn: 
 Or forc'd, or willing, wav'ring wild, to wed, 
 And blooming wither in an old man's bed. 
 
 Yet
 
 POEMS. 23 
 
 Yet wherefore cenfure? 'tis in faft to praife ; 
 (The modifli manner of our modern days:) 
 Yet hence, gallants, that haplefs beauty fpare, 
 A tear is due from kindcompaflion there. 
 
 Bleft were the bards of old who never ftrove 
 Bright maids to celebrate, or chaunt their love ; 
 But to their aid fome willing godhead came, 
 And by his loving dignify'd the dame; 
 Who lov'd Europa, fo extoll'd her charms, 
 He brought the very thund'rer to her arms : 
 So chafte was Daphne when her lover vvoo'd, 
 He made her fly, when e'en fir Phcebus fu'd : 
 Nor cou'd the beauteous Ariadne plain, 
 But ftraight kind Bacchus flew to footh her pain. 
 But fmce plain fenfe got footing on our ground, 
 Thefe gallant tales no more admiffion found : 
 Our fqueamifh ftomachs fuch rank lies exclude, 
 And downright truth mufl be our only food : 
 Think then fo rare true worth on modern foil, 
 How very hard the poets find their toil. 
 
 But this with me, you'll anfwer, nothing weighs, 
 Speak downright truth, you'll fpeak the nobleft praife : 
 Cenfure cries out, and growling drops her pen, 
 " Reverfe each character, 'tis cenfure then." 
 See fiftion blufhing from her pencil run, 
 And own her gaieft tints by B th's charms outdone. 
 
 But foft, my friends, or e'er we fpeak the reft, 
 Indulge our wifh, and make the country bleft : 
 Thofe nymphs together let us once more view, 
 Who fire our fancies and our flames renew : 
 Thofe nymphs ! whom youthful Clodio's felf has feen, 
 Fam'd for the ftep precife and upright mien ! 
 
 Whom
 
 24 POEMS. 
 
 Whom ev'n he faw and in their chorus join'd, 
 To eafe the wond'rous workings of his mind ! 
 Alas how vain ! the fickle damfel flown, 
 And all his hopes of dear ten thoufand gone ! 
 Alas how vain! ye virgins, aid his pain, 
 'Tis hard to triumph o'er fo meek a fwain ! 
 
 Peace to his foul ! ; while I my wifh renew, 
 Once more in Lincoln's fens my friend to view : 
 Then mall the mufe with double ardour foar, 
 Now graces celebrate, now charms explore ; 
 Then might I hope ! bright beauties, hear my 
 
 pray'er 
 Conceive the reft 'tis ligh'd and loft in air. 
 
 CYDIPPE
 
 POEMS. 25 
 
 CYDIPPE TO LEONZO. 
 
 Leonzo by flrong pretenficns of love, but full of de- 
 ceit, robbed the chalte Cydippe of her honour. 
 This misfortune hung fo heavy upon her, that it 
 brought on her death ; in the time of her ficknefs, 
 to reform Leonzo, and fet his crime before his view, 
 Hie wrote the following epiftle. 
 
 THINK not I write thy pity to implore, 
 Ere this thouread'il Cydippe is no more: 
 For thee alone, ungrateful as thou art, 
 To purge thy pafiions, and amend thy heart ; 
 For thee alone, the trembling pen I take, 
 Willing my woe, thy happinefs to make. 
 
 Too well, Leonzo, all my heart you know, 
 How warm my love, how virtuous, and how true ; 
 Thy tender fighs my heart's fond pity mov'd, 
 And I at firft through mere compaflion lov'd. 
 But as I found thy fondnefs ftill the fame, 
 Still kind thy treatment, and ftill pure thy flame ; 
 No more I wifh'd, or ftudy'd to be free, 
 But frankly all my heart refign'd to thee. 
 So true my love, of change I nothing gueft, 
 Nor dreaded ought, with thy protection bleft. 
 
 Shield me juft heav'n, Leoczo's felf betrays, 
 And my pure flame with perfidy repays ! 
 Ev'n he, my guide, my guardian and my friend, 
 Lov'd to aflift, and chofen to defend ; 
 Ev'n he becomes the viper in my breaft, 
 Defpoils my love, and lays my comfort wade! 
 
 ' E ' Think
 
 2.6 POEMS. 
 
 Think what a deed, Leonzo, them haft done, 
 And well, well, weigh the triumph thou haft won. 
 Lo, 'tis o'er one whofe heart was all thy own, 
 Who lov'd thee well, and lov'd but thee alone ; 
 Who for thy fake each hardfhip would have try'd, 
 And pleas'd to make thee happy would have dy'd. 
 And her, for one fhort interval of blame, 
 A tranfient joy that thou fhouldft blufh to name ; 
 Her haft thou robb'd of ev'ry human blifs, 
 Fair virtue, foft content, and fmiling peace ! 
 And in return, condemn'd to drag the chain 
 Of fhame, remorfe, and felf-confuming pain. 
 
 Hadft thou fome mean, fome unknown maid abus'd. 
 Nought could a deed fo black have e'er excus'd : 
 Oh ! think then how immenfe the fault muft prove, 
 When fuch the bafe return of virtuous love ; 
 When unfufpefted, on th' unguarded maid 
 Her own protedlor fteals, and all her foul's betray'd. 
 
 Beware, ye virgins of falfe lovers arts, 
 You cannot guard too much your gentle hearts: 
 The faithlefs wantons triumph to deceive, 
 Laugh at our tears, and joy to fee us grieve. 
 
 Yet fure, Leonzo, fure it cannot be, 
 That all are cruel, all unjoft as thee ! 
 There are kind heav'n augment the happy few ! 
 Who fcorn the paths which libertines purfue ; 
 In whofe pure love the virgin may confide, 
 But ah, how rare ! and what to chufe, the guide ? 
 By what bleft art {hall we difcern the true, 
 From lovers, oh Leonzo, falfe as you ! 
 Or how efcape, when ftudious to betray, 
 Wild roves the rake thro' pleafures flow'ry way ; 
 
 The
 
 POEMS. 27 
 
 The virgin's anguifh, and the parent's tear, 
 Mirth to his view, and mufic to his ear ! 
 
 Ah me, 'tis vain, ftill many a haplefs fair, 
 Henceforth, like poor Cydippe, muft defpair: 
 More falfe Leonzos to their ruin hafte, 
 And fly to lay each little Eden wafte. 
 
 Think of the crime, and view, withconfcious thought, 
 My fad diftrefs, by thy unkindnefs wrought; 
 Reflect how much I lov'd, and to thy eyes, 
 Let the dread guilt in all its horrors rife ; 
 Let keen remorfe afflicl thy tortur'd breaft, 
 And make thee wretched if 'twill make thee bleft. 
 May'ft thou at laft the fatal fault erafe, 
 Difarm heav'n's vengeance, and refign in peace ! 
 
 Farewel yet think how much Cydippe lov'd, 
 How much for thee me fuffer'd : and be mov'd ; 
 Farewel remember me, nor hope to find 
 Repofe from ought, but virtue, in thy mind. 
 
 E 2
 
 zS POEMS. 
 
 A DAY IN VACATION AT COL LEGE. 
 
 A MOCK-HEROIC POEM. 
 TO A FRIEND IN LONDON. 
 
 WHILE gaily fmiling through the wilds of love, 
 The laughing hours, and rofe-lip'd Hebe leads 
 Thee, midft the jolly choir of maidens trim, 
 Daughters of pleafance ; lift, oh lift awhile, 
 From love and mirth's brifk mulic, to the ttrains, 
 Hoarfe-ecchoing, of thy folitary friend ! 
 While, how flow pace along his ling'ring hours, 
 'Midft Granta's gloomy walls, he forrowing tells, 
 And paints the awful fcene ! O friend to woe ! 
 Sad mufe, in fable ftole right meekly clad, 
 Thy melancholy YOUNG who leadeft forth 
 Slow, mournful, mufing, to the mirky tomb, 
 Midft darknefs horrible (fave where the moon 
 With intercepted light, ferves but to make 
 The fcene more folemn) and his midnight fong, 
 Grief-diftated, infpireft Goddefs come, 
 And thro' the live-long, tedious, lonely day, 
 Affift me while I drag laborious on. 
 
 Ah ! what avails it, that the fleepy bell 
 Breaks through the filenceof the morn, and calls 
 To folitary prayers ? fince there no face 
 Of friendly afpeft on my hunger fmiles, 
 Inviting to the breakfaft's kind repaft ! 
 Chance thro' the ill-frequented houfe of God 
 
 The
 
 POEMS. 29 
 
 The meagre vifage of a fellow* flares, 
 
 Himfelf who grudges food : and, diet thin, 
 
 Pines to afford a miferable fize f ! 
 
 Hence to keen appetite, and hunger ftrong, 
 
 What hopes can well J ? reflections thus fevere, 
 
 Food to defire, not fo to ravenous maws, 
 
 Yet why indulge ? fince fate's decrees ftand fix'd, 
 
 And fruitlefs 'tis to hope reverfe our doom! 
 
 Come then, thou lonely loaf, thou penfive cup, 
 
 And 'midil the tortur'd kettle's hifiing plaints, 
 
 Let me eat, fip, and yawn o'er pamphlet dull. 
 
 Where's now the jocund pun, the merry jibe, 
 
 Eril laughter-ufiier'd midit belov'd compeers ? 
 
 Where's now the focial walk, the friendly chat, 
 
 As thronging thick to Cloacina's || fane ? 
 
 In fort not unrefembling Gallic dames 
 
 Of decency nought heedful : how unlike 
 
 The virgin modefty of Britifh maids ? 
 
 How pant their little hearts, how glow their cheeks 
 
 With elegance of blumes, if defcried 
 
 Of nature's wants ought confcious ! oh go on, 
 
 Ye fole fweet chearers of my inufmg hours, 
 
 Still delicate, and Hill by grace refin'd 
 
 Height'ning the marriage blifs, to every joy, 
 
 To every rapture adding new increafe. 
 
 * A fellow of a college. See line theiiyth. 
 
 f- A fize of br;ad is half a half-penny roll : a common mcdi- j 
 cv.m with the fmall eaters of breakfafts at the univerfity. 
 
 J A word of Spenfer's, Shakefpear's, &c. fignTying to fpring, 
 flow, Ac. 
 
 U The goddefs of bogs, &c. 
 
 If
 
 3 9 POEMS. 
 
 If on my gloom of folitude ere breaks 
 
 Of pleafure glimmering ray, 'tis all from you, 
 
 From fweet reflection on the abfent fair, 
 
 Soul of my foul with whom whyleare when bleft, 
 
 How gay was nature, and each fcene how trim ! 
 
 How chang'd, how alter'd now! forlo! (the morn 
 
 Midft thoughts thus penfive, or midft travelling dull, 
 
 O'er the wild maze of philofophic ground *, 
 
 At length o'erpafl) as by the dinner bell, 
 
 Once found moft grateful, call'd, the dufty flairs, 
 
 (Defpotic empire where Arachne holds 
 
 Her curious webs, midft death-denouncing beats, 
 
 Inceflant weaving) as adown I move 
 
 My hunger-ftirr'd, yet grief-ftay'd languid limbs, 
 
 * Fhilofophy is the reigning fludy, and principally rewarded at 
 Cambridge, -f The following paffage from a late learned writer will 
 well explain thefe lines. 
 
 " It is certain the improvements they do make in learning, efpe- 
 cially in mathematical and philofophical learning, are often extraor- 
 dinary for perfons of their age, (meaning the undergraduates at Cam- 
 bridge) and are ufaally as great as may reafonably be expe&ed to be 
 made, within the compafs of time they commonly refide amongft 
 us. In thefe refpefts we have not loft, we have, I think, gained 
 ground of late years : and though I am not fenfible that the ftudy of 
 clafiical learning has declined arnorg us, and mould be much con- 
 cerned if ic had ; yet I am cf opinion, that it would be more at- 
 tended to, and canied to a much greater height than it ufually is, 
 if fume public honours were affixed to improvements of that kind, 
 as has already been done to thofe in philofonhy." 
 
 f- See conftderations on th: expediency of making the late regula- 
 tions at Cambridge, p. 15. 
 
 A
 
 POEMS. 31 
 
 A fccne how dull crouds fullen on ray view ! 
 
 Clos'd every antique window thro' the dome, 
 
 (Black with the fmoke of many a rolling year) 
 
 Whence, or in night-cap white, or, fome more gay, 
 
 In velvet foft of many a varied hue, 
 
 Peep'd forth, on barber calling mrill and loud, 
 
 Dreading the lofs of dinner, numerous heads ! 
 
 No barbers trim are now ! No more they fkim 
 
 The well-fhav'd lawn, its beard regardles grows 
 
 To length uncouth, and wild neglefted grafs 
 
 O'er every plat uncultivated reigns ! 
 
 No barbers trim are now ! no more with wig 
 
 Well-powder'd, white or brown, of don more grave, 
 
 Or fcholar blythe meet emblems, hafle thofe fires 
 
 Of news, and fpruce confummators of drefs ! 
 
 No more the jolly Jips *, with heart a foe 
 
 To thought or forrow, carol out their fongs, 
 
 Loud-echoing thro' the mirth-devoted court, 
 
 As to the butteries, with their paper friend 
 
 Jocund they jog along, and o'er their ale 
 
 Meafure their matters merits by their gifts ! 
 
 To penury, alas, and pinching want 
 
 Condemn'd, the long vacation loud they carfe, 
 
 * Are an idle ufefu! fct of hangers on the college, who pro- 
 cure ale, pence, &c. by running errands, and doing little fer- 
 vices for their mafters ; and are a degree inferior in place and pre- 
 eminence to the bed-makers : from a regard to the intcrefts cf die 
 young gentlemen, the butler fddom permits them to have any thing 
 of him without a note from the giver which is ufually in this 
 form, a Jize of ale WtfUanu loaf and latter, Jacifon: by this 
 the reader \vM underfar.d what i' meant by paper friend. 
 
 And
 
 3 E POEMS. 
 
 And pray with me, October's bell * to hear, 
 To fophs more dread than curfeu ! fo thro' life 
 The weal of one ftill proves another's woe. 
 
 Of gracious Alma Mater's defert plight 
 Meet reprefentative, yon matron f view, 
 With years and labour bent, on lonely ftep, 
 Entrance of flair-cafe, where her mafters lov'd 
 Erit won, all penfive plac'd ; her heavy head 
 Her feeble arm upholds ; her heavy heart, 
 Ah me, what now remaineth to uphold ? 
 
 How pleafmg late with lufty Sol to rife, 
 And to the room of midnight revelry, 
 Late jolly feat, repair ! there, there what joy 
 The ruins of the rout to traverfe o'er, 
 And with the lufcious fragments feaft her tafte 
 Luxurious, and o'erwhelm her thirfty gule ! 
 Carelefs of morrow, by the mellow youth 
 All things are to her rapine left a prey ! 
 How pants her heart, while filently fecure 
 She ravages the fcene ! and as the bee 
 From morning flowers, with honey-loaded thigh 
 Hafles happy to the hive fo homeward fares, 
 
 * Which rings in that dreadful term, the laft before degree- 
 time, when the fophs, or thofe who then take their degrees, are 
 in no fmall terror from moderators, wiflers, or examiners, proc- 
 tors, philofophy, and fiery trials. 
 
 J- Meaning an aged bed-maker, for 'tis requisite, and a point 
 of great prudence in the governors of colleges, that the fhe bed- 
 makers fhould be both aged and uninviting, left temptation fliould 
 caufe the yo.mger hearts to wander from the paths of virtue. 
 
 With
 
 POEMS. 33 
 
 With fpoils replete, the merry -hearted dame. 
 
 What wonder now (he mourns, when revel-routs, 
 
 When feafts and fpoils like thefe are found no more ? 
 
 So wept, fo griev'd the Macedonian chief, 
 
 When all the world dread ravag'd, and o'er-run, 
 
 No other world remain'd for future deeds, 
 
 Future deftruftion, blood-fhed, fpoils, and death! 
 
 Scant ftrew'd with cloth full black its antique boards, 
 (For fuch unphilofophic eyes wou'd deem, 
 What tables Granta's wifer fons yclepe,) 
 The hall, whence frighted hofpitality 
 Wan takes her flight, with lonely fteps and flow 
 Muling I enter, and withiighs behold 
 My folitary trencher * ! banquets rich, 
 And choiceft dainties all their relifh lofe, 
 If temper'd not with fweet fociety! 
 Stiff thro' the hall, the lowering of my cap, 
 And reverential meek refpedl demands 
 One moving, dull, alone, diftreft like me, 
 Of big authority, and that great name, 
 FELLOW, in Granta's walls fonorous deem'd, 
 Full proud, and fwoln with mighty littlenefs ! 
 Sick of the mimic pageant, down I hafte 
 My fparing dinner; and full glad avoid 
 A wight fo hateful to judicious eyes: 
 Left to his own dull filence, and to gnaw 
 Malign his cancred and perturbed gall J 
 
 But as on foreft dreary wafle and wide, 
 
 * That is, a fquare piece of deal board, feldom if ever fcraped, 
 (sever wafh'd) oft" which the younger part of the univerfity dine. 
 
 F The
 
 34 POEMS. 
 
 The traveller bewilder'd looks agaft, 
 And doubts which way to turn his fober fteed, 
 Each equally perplexing, each alike 
 Lonely and defert: fo from every fcene 
 Friendly fociety and comfort fled, 
 In hefitation fighing, long I ftand, 
 Where to direft my faint and feeble feet! 
 Along the filent ftreets, whofe awful gloom 
 Adds horror to my melancholy foul, 
 I fteal on unregarded: friendly face, 
 Round-cap *, or fquare, ne'er greet my paffing Heps 
 With falutation pleafing: nor the mops 
 Of Thurlbourn, Merrill f or than thofe more facet, 
 That, where the beauteous wife's bright vifage gives 
 Beauty to books, and luflre to their backs, 
 One acceptable greeting e'er afford ! 
 Not one lov'd friend 'tis filence, darknefs all ! 
 And yet awhile, methinks, my cares are ftill'd, 
 
 * The undergraduates, or thofe who are not dignified with the 
 title of A.B. or any thing fimilar thereto, in general wear round- 
 caps, not unlike thofe of the charity-boys, faving that they are 
 black, -the fuperior orders wear fquare ones dignified with filken 
 taffels. 
 
 f Thurlbourn and Merril are fo well known, we need cbferve 
 nothing of the honefty or excellence of thefe eminent bookfellers. 
 The third (Mr. Matthews) who is hinted at in the next line, is 
 lefs famous in public, but renowned within the walls of Granta, 
 for a very pretty wife, whom he had juft brought home when this 
 poem was written. 
 
 N. B. This circumftance may, in future times, be of no fmall 
 fervice to fix the chronology of this poem. 
 
 And
 
 POEMS. 35 
 
 Arid dawn of comfort rays upon my gloom, 
 
 As in profoundeft meditation loft, 
 
 Befide the door-cafe * leaning I behold, 
 
 In fond imagination's eye, the walk 
 
 Hight Regent, by the babbling fophifts throng'd, 
 
 For ftern difpute in mental armour clad. 
 
 Slow tolls the bell : bright glory holds aloft 
 
 Her fplendid crown, where gaily ftamp'd in gold, 
 
 Great Wrangler f glows, and panting honour throbs 
 
 In each firce combatant's afpiring heart ! 
 
 * Mr. Merrill's fhop looks upon the walk commonly called the 
 Regent, which leads to the fchools, which before two, (the hour 
 when public exercife is kept in the fchools) is generally much 
 thronged by the younger fort, to hear the difputations, but more 
 particularly when any renowned hero is to afcend the roftrum. 
 
 f There are twelve of every year conftantly honoured with 
 that appellation, as a mark of their fuperlor merit. Many 
 are the privileges they ufed to enjoy, which by imperceptible 
 degrees, have dwindled away to one only, that of chufing each a 
 fquire, and vifiting all the fair ladies of the town, from whom they 
 demand nought but a kifs. And the good-natured ladies never 
 were averfe to fo laudable a cuftom. But mark the unkindnefs of 
 our times ! even this privilege is taken away, and the Wranglers 
 muft no more joyoufly ravifli the balmy bleflings from the coy and 
 flruggling fair : fcarce a dry eye was feen on the day when the wran- 
 glers were laft expefted, the peeping maidens obfert'ed, now and 
 then, one with down-cad looks fteal along the ftreets, and muffle 
 up his inglorious face in difmal black, proper emblem of the 
 cruel deftiny. The year 1750 is, and will be, remembered with 
 grief, by every Cambridge virgin, and future Wrangler. 
 
 F 2 He
 
 36 P O E M ft 
 
 He comes, behold, the dread decider * comes- 
 
 As from the eaft the giant-fun breaks forth, 
 
 To run his courfe, on each beholder's eye ! 
 
 He comes, afcend the roftrum, mount on high, 
 
 Great Cato of fair fcience, and confound 
 
 The fyllogiftic flaves of cavil fly ! 
 
 See the prefs thickens, hark the fight begins, 
 
 Tongue-doughty oh, of ignorance ye fbns! 
 
 How ill for you in unknown guife they treat 
 
 Of fubjefls deep, important ! elfe what funds, 
 
 What mighty crops of fcience might ye reap, 
 
 And grow in wifdom wealthy ! fo yon fon, 
 
 (Or Cam bro- Briton, or from northern climes r 
 
 Late footing o'er the hard and pebbly foil) 
 
 As by that pillar leaning, all agape, 
 
 Thus witneffing his wonder and applaufe, 
 
 Right fapient deems, while in his troubled thoughts 
 
 He fcorns the ignorance of northern climes : 
 
 And prickt with emulation hies him home 
 
 To plod o'er hallow'd Euclid's facred page ! 
 
 Not fo the happy difputants : releas'd 
 And erown'd with high applaufe, jocund they hafte 
 To drench their thirfty fouls in chearing wine : 
 Pleas'd talking o'er the glories of the day, 
 And taking off each argument afrefh. 
 Thus from the chace, around the rofy cups 
 The jolly-hearted hunters ftun the ear 
 With feats atchiev'd by each, while every fence 
 
 * Or moderator, whofe bufmefs it is to be umpire in all 
 academical difputations, to keep up good manners and decency 
 between the combatants, 
 
 Again
 
 POEMS. 37 
 
 Again is fprung, each beaft again purfued, 
 And in imagination flain anew. 
 
 Where, roving fancy, whither was I borne! 
 Thefe active fcenes are wrapt in flumber now, 
 The ftill fchools droop, the defart roftrum mourns ; 
 And penfive filence with her down-fixt eyes 
 Walks folitary round the forrowing walls. 
 
 Vain is it, once the coffee-houfe fupplied 
 Reviving coffee, or heart-chearing tea, 
 And with them pamphlets in long happy roll, 
 Food for the hungry mind ! how dreary all 
 As ent'ring there, I pace along the room ! 
 The languid Dockrill * drops his wonted fmiles, 
 Pale Dockerilla on her elbow leans, 
 And views the long, long order, mining trim, 
 (Ah that they mine!) of coffee-pots forlorn! 
 While each with me in deep complaining joins 
 And ruminates full fad on happier days. 
 
 Vain is the hope for ought of comfort here: 
 Quick let me wander to thofe pleafing fcenes, 
 Where nymphs whilome right gaily trimm'd, advanc'd. 
 And fpread their gawdy plumage to the fun. 
 But vanifh'd is the fun from Granta's fkies, 
 With it the fummer's vanim'd and the pride 
 Of fummer, each gay butterfly is gone ! 
 No more the high-arch'd walk of lovely Clare, 
 No more proud Trinity's delightful round, 
 
 * The names of the mafter and miftrefs of the coffee-houfe, 
 commonly called Robin's coffee-houfe. For the defcription of an 
 academical coffee-houfe, we refer the reader to that noble hiftory of 
 Little Pompey, 
 
 No
 
 $3 POEMS. 
 
 No more the rural grove of awful Kings, 
 Or Johnian fcenes for folitude devis'd, 
 Are with the bevy bright of gownfmen blythe 
 And beauteous ladies, elegantly throng'd. 
 No more the Commoner * with gold diitinft, 
 
 * The before-mentioned hiftory well explains the meaning of 
 this word, chap. XII. book II. ' He was admitted in the rank 
 
 * of a fellow-commoner, which, according to the definition 
 given by a member of the univerfity in a court of juftice, is one 
 ' who fits at the fame table, and enjoys the converfation of the 
 
 * fellows. It differs from what is called a gentleman commoner 
 at Oxford, not only in the name, but alfo in the greater privileges 
 ' and licences indulged to the members of this order j who do not 
 ' only enjoy the conversation of the fellows, but likewife a full 
 ' liberty cf following their own imaginations in every thing. For as 
 tutors and governors of colleges have ufually pretty fagacious no- 
 ' fes after preferment, they think it impolitic to crofs the inclina- 
 ' tions of young gentlemen, who are heirs to great eftates, and 
 ' from whom they expert benefices and dignities hereafter, as re- 
 < wards for their want of care of them, while they were under their 
 ' protection. From hence it comes to pafs, that pupils of this rank 
 
 * are excufed from all public exercifes, and allowed to abfent them- 
 ' felves at pleafure from the private lectures in their tutors rooms, 
 as often as they have made a party for hunting, or an engagement 
 
 * at the Tennis-court, or are not well recovered from their evening's 
 debauch. And wbilft a poor unhappy foph, of no fortune, is of- 
 
 * ten expelled for the moft trivial offences, or merely to humour the 
 ' capricious refentment of his tutor, who happens to diflike his 
 
 * face ; young noblemen, and heirs of great etfates, may commit 
 ' any illegalities, and, if they pleafe, overturn a college with im- 
 punity.* 
 
 N. B. Let it be acknowledged our Author is rather too fevere. 
 
 And
 
 POEMS. 39 
 
 And curfing regulations, treads the green, 
 With ftep fuperior ; while perchance his fide, 
 Some humbler fellow *, very meek, attends, 
 
 Full 
 
 * A fellow cf a college is either a mod amiable or a mod infig- 
 mficant character : to the honour of the univerfities be it fpoken, 
 they now abound with as many worthy men, in that ftation, 
 as can either be defired or expedled; and were I not to be fifpefted 
 of flattery, I would name feveral, whofe names as tutors as well as, 
 fellows, do honour to their own colleges, and the univerfity in ge- 
 neral : but many too there are of the fpecies mentioned in Fompey 
 the Little, whole infignificancy can never be Efficiently ridiculed, 
 and whofe foolifh pride never fufficiently humbled. Let us 
 therefore, with honell Boileau, cenfuring only to amend, fee 
 what is there faid of them: ' He (Williams, a M. A. and fellow) 
 
 * was in the firft place, a man of the moft exafl and punctilious 
 neatnefs ; his does were always blacked in the niceft manner, his 
 ' wigs powdered with the moil finical delicacy, and he would fcold 
 < his laundrefs for a whole morning together, if he difcovered a wry 
 ' plait in the fleeve of his fhirt, or the leaft fpeclc of dirt on any 
 part cf his linen. He rofe conflantly to chapel, and afterwards 
 ' proceeded with great importance to breakfaft, which, moderately 
 ' fpeaking, took up two hours of his morning} for when he had 
 ' done fipping his tea, he ufed to wafti up the cups with the moft 
 ' orderly exafinefs, and replace them with the utmoft regularity in 
 ' their corner-cupboard. After this, he drew on his boot 1 ;, ordered 
 his horfe, and rode out for the air, having been told that a fcden- 
 ' tary life is deftraHve of the conftitution, and that too much 
 ftudy impairs the health. At his return he had barely time to 
 { wafli his hands, clean his teeth, and put on a frefn-powdered wig, 
 ' before the college-bell fummoned him to dinner in the public 
 
 * hall. When this great affair was ended, he fpent an hour with 
 
 ' the
 
 40 POEMS. 
 
 Full fupple, big with hopes of benefice ! 
 No more ***** 
 
 No 
 
 the reft of the fellows in the common-room to digeft his meal, 
 
 * and then went to the coffee-houfe to read the news-papers ; where 
 ' he loitered away that heavy interval, which pafled between dinner 
 f and the hour appointed for afternoon tea : but as foon as the clock 
 ' ftruck three, he tucked up his gown, and flew with all imaginable 
 ' hade to fome of the young ladies abovementioned, who all efteemed 
 ' him a prodigious genius, and were ready to laugh at his wit 
 before he had opened his mouth. In thefe agreeable vifits he 
 remained till the time of evening chapel ; and when this was over, 
 ' Cupper fucceeded next to find him frefli employment j from whence 
 ' he repaired again to the coffee-houfe, and then to fome engage- 
 ment he had made at a friend's room, to fpend the remaining 
 ' part of the evening. By this account of his day's tranfadHons, 
 ' the reader will fee how very impoflible it was for him to find lei- 
 ' fnre for fludy in the midft of fo many important avocations ; yet 
 
 he made a fliift fometimes to play half a tune on the German flute 
 in a morning, and once in a quarter of a year took the pains to 
 transcribe a fermon out of various authors. 
 
 * Another part of his character was a great affectation of polite- 
 nefs, which is more pretended to in univerfities, where lefs of it is 
 pradlifed, than in any other part of the kingdom. Thus Williams, 
 Jike many others, was always talking of genteel life, to which 
 end he was plentifully provided with flories by a female coufin, 
 who kept a milliner's /hop in London, and never failed to let him 
 know by letters, what pafled among the great : though flie fre- 
 quently miftook the names of the people, and attributed fcandal
 
 POEMS. 4I 
 
 No more 'midft laughter loud, meet fcorn of fage, 
 The thoughtlefs youth * full idly loll along, 
 
 And 
 
 ' to one lord, which was the property of another. Her coufin how- 
 ever did not find out the miftakes, but retailed her blunders about 
 the colleges with great confidence and fecurity. 
 
 But nothing in the world pleafed him more than (hewing the 
 ' univerfity to ftrangers, and efpecially to ladies, which he thought 
 ' gave him an air of acquaintance with the genteel world j and on 
 ' fuch occafions, if he could prevail on them to dine with him, he 
 ' would affect to make expenfive entertainments, which neither his 
 ' private fortune, or the income of his fellowfhip, could afford.' 
 
 * In an old book I met with the other day, called Micro-Cof- 
 mographiej or, a piece of the world difcovered in eflays and cha- 
 racters. Printed in 1633. I found the following character of an 
 univerfity fcholar ; which pleafmg me much, I did not doubt but it 
 might alfo pleafe fome of my readers. The little Book whence 
 it is taken, is very full of characters, and was fo well approved 
 in its own days, as to run thro' fix editions. 
 
 ' A young gentleman of the Univerfity, is one that comes there 
 ' to weare a gown, and to fay hereafter, he has beene at th Vni- 
 verfity. His father feat him thither, becaufe he heard there 
 ' were the beft fencing and dancing fchooles, from thefe ha has his 
 education, from his tutor the over-fight. The firft element of 
 * his knowledge is to be fhewne the colledges, and initiated in a ta- 
 verne by the way, which hereafter hee will learn of himfelfe.. 
 The two marks of his feniority, is the bare velvet of his gowne, 
 ' and his proficiency at tennis, where when hee can once play a fet, 
 1 he is a frefli-man no more. His ftudy has commonly handfome 
 ' fhelves, his bookes neate filke ftrings, which he fliews to his fa- 
 ' thcr's man, and is loth to untye or take downe, for fear of mif- 
 G placing.
 
 4 * POEMS. 
 
 And deem themselves important! here I reign 
 Sole monarch ; and if nought can give me joy, 
 At leaft am free from ought to raife my fpleen. 
 Here only am I bleft while nature's works, 
 And every beauty thro* the laughing fields, 
 Contemplating, delighted : while my limbs, 
 Befide the gurgling fpring, which murmuring rills 
 Adown the fteep, amidft the wifpering breeze 
 Soft fighing of the gently waving boughs, 
 Indulgently J fpread ; and feed my thoughts 
 With thy perfections and thy works, great king 
 Of universal nature; fure to lead 
 To that molt perfect lovelieft of thy works, 
 (Sweet meditation !) her, who holds my heart, 
 And is, whate'er has been of beauty feign'd ! 
 Away, ye fons of midnight revelry, 
 
 ' placing. Vpon foule dayes for recreation, he retyres thither, and 
 Jboks over the pretr booke his tutor reades to him, which is com- 
 
 * monly fome fhort hiftory, or a piece of Euphormio ; for which 
 ' his tutor gives him money to fpend next day. His maine loyter- 
 
 * ing is at the library, where he ftudies arjnes and books of honour, 
 ar.d turnes a gentlemar-critick in pedigrees. Of all things hee 
 ' endures not to bee miftaken for a fcholler, and hates a black fuit 
 ' though it bee of fatin. His companion is ordinarily fome ftale 
 ' fellow, that has beeoc notorious for an ingle to gold hatbands, 
 
 * whom he admires at firft, afterwards fcoraes. If hee have fpirit 
 ' or wit, hee may light of better company, and learne fome fla/hes 
 ' of wit, which may doe him knights fervice in the country here- 
 ' after. But htis novr gone to the inns of court, where hee ftu- 
 dies to forget, what be learn'd before, his acquaintance and the 
 < faihion,' 
 
 Who
 
 POEMS. 43 
 
 Who to a wanton Venus make your court ! 
 Think not to lure me with thofe gallant joys, 
 More boafted of than known : one hour of love, 
 Of innocent delight, of guilelefs blifs, 
 Of converfe delicate, refin'd and pure, 
 Exceeds your utmoft pleafures, and may vie 
 With all the tranfports of lafcivious love ! 
 
 No wonder, Lucy, wrapt in thoughts of thee, 
 Quick move along the nimble-footed hours, 
 When with thee oft, fo oft, too winged prov'd, 
 Then fleeter than a fnail-pac'd moment now. 
 
 The hour of prayer approaches : home I tend, 
 And as the filent melancholy court 
 Yawning I enter, 'chance a difmal fcrape, 
 From hand of forlorn Fiddler, wounds my ear, 
 And to the fcene adds horror. So the howl 
 Of triple- mouthed Cerberus burfting dread 
 Thro' the dull filence of hell's awful gloom, 
 New terror ftruck thro' pale ^Eneas' foul 
 Dire woe-begone, and made e'en hell more horrible. 
 
 The houfe of prayer, or fupper, nought prefents 
 Or new or meet to mend the dull-fpent day : 
 How (hall the long, long tedious evening pafs ? 
 Where are the focial friends, the flowing cups 
 Midft converfe pleafing jovially put round, 
 Midft mirth and laughter, honeft joke and joy ? 
 Where is the evening, held more focial yet, 
 Midft converfation, open'd and refin'd, 
 On themes that well might fuit an Attic ear ? 
 Ah D * * * now where art thou? bleft indeed 
 
 In
 
 44 POEMS. 
 
 In converfe with the man *, the world admires. 
 
 And I fmall comfort to reflection left 
 
 Of what I once enjoy 'd ! up braidings hence 
 
 The hours move on, and proud Augufta's walls 
 
 Shall all thofe comforts to my foul afford, 
 
 Granta unkindly to my wifh denies. 
 
 So might mankind be bleft : learn, mortals, learn, 
 
 The prefent ftate contented to fupport, 
 
 Let flattering hope the future profpe&s crown ! 
 
 Thus in dull round drags on each felf-fame day, 
 And every hour well knows the next's employ ; 
 The day of God except : then ruling change 
 Ufurps her wonted fway : The pulpit then 
 New fund of matter to engage my foul, 
 Or raife my laughter, as with * * filPd 
 ****or**** gracioufly fupplies. 
 
 * Every reader will confefs the propriety of what is faid of this 
 gentleman, when I tell them the perfon here meant, is the truly 
 amiable author of Clarifla. 
 
 * * No particular perfons are here meant : every univerfity 
 man can eafily fupply the vacancies, as no pulpit affords greater va- 
 riety of excellent, as well as miferable, preachers, than St. Mary's. 
 
 The learned reader will obferve how ftridlly the writer of this 
 
 piece has complied with the opinions of the ingenious author of 
 the very grave Scribleriad. He, in imitation thereof, never deign- 
 ing to let one fmile intrude all the way through ; and in fo doing, 
 we hope people of true and nicer tafte will confefs he has hit upon 
 the true burlefque. For in the preface to that poem, faith the 
 writer,' In a mock-heroic poem, the author fhould never be 
 < feen to laugh, but conflantly wear that grave irony, which Cer- 
 ' vante* only has inviolably preferred.' 
 
 So
 
 POEMS. 45 
 
 So in our days, when late the parting earth 
 Yawn'd, threat'ning diflblution, fome with awe, 
 With fouls religious, felt the warning fhock, 
 And pick'd morality from every make. 
 While others, loofer throng, with laughter vain, 
 And idle obfervation, deem'd it light, 
 While with gay pleafures clofely compafs'd round, 
 They rioted in jovifaunce fecure, 
 And unregarding, or with fmiles could hear 
 " The wreck of matter and the crum of worlds." 
 
 Auguft 15, 1750. 
 
 W I T
 
 46 POEMS. 
 
 WIT REWARDED, 
 
 OR THE DOUBLE TRIUMPH. 
 A TALE POUNDED ON TRUTH. 
 
 AN honeft vicar, little known to fame, 
 Whofe wealth was fmall, whofe life was free 
 from blame ; 
 
 It chanc'd, in riding on the village road, 
 Calmly content, and ruminating good; 
 Was overtook by Morio brifk and gay, 
 Directed by fome fcheme the felf-fame way : 
 Morio, a youth, who two vain years had fpent 
 At London, and from thence to Paris went ; 
 Proficient he, alike, at either fchool, 
 Here he commenc'd, and there completed fool. 
 He learn'd to hammer " monfieur, voulez-vous," 
 And dangle at his back the monkey queue. 
 He learn'd each folly men of fenfe defpife, 
 To triumph in himfelf, and fcorn the wife. 
 
 He knew the prieft, and form'd the deep defign, 
 To play a prank, and bite the grave 'divine : 
 To gain his point, he fighing, thus began, 
 " Well, hard his fate! alas, poor honeft man j 
 " Believe me, fir, at length good Pio's dead; 
 ' The very beft of Levi's fons is fled." 
 Amaz'd the vicar heard, and doubting ftands 
 Till Morio's oath a full belief commands ; 
 No more he doubts, but thinks the tale fmcere; 
 Nor dream'd that moderns would to falfehood fwear. 
 
 His
 
 POEMS. 47 
 
 His friend a while lamenting on the road, 
 
 Quoth Morio, " doftor, his preferment's good; 
 
 " That living well would fuit 'fdeath, hafte, begone, 
 
 " The bilhop can't deny you; 'tis your own." 
 
 Thoughtful the vicar fat at length reply'd, 
 
 " Good is my aim, and charity my guide; 
 
 " With lib'ral hand to eafe the widow's toil, 
 
 " Relieve the poor, and bid the wretched fmile. 
 
 " For thefe I'll afk, to thefe the boon be giv'n, 
 
 " This all my wifh, then grant it bounteous heav'n." 
 
 See then, by mild credulity betray'd, 
 
 The common failing of an honeft head; 
 
 The prieft with diligence, not hafte, proceed, 
 
 Half loth to plead his worth, or own his need. 
 
 Tim'rous, at length he beats the bifhop's gate, 
 
 The billiop never made his clergy wait ; 
 
 He enters, grave, and at the plenteous board 
 
 Sees the dead reclor dining with my lord ! 
 
 Amaz'd, afham'd, tho' conscious of no wrong, 
 
 He bluQies, bows, and dines and holds his tongue; 
 
 Pours out a fober cup to church and king, 
 
 Nor waftes one thought upon the trifling thing; 
 
 A cheartul hour he fpends, ferenely gay, 
 
 Then pays his compliments, and comes away. 
 
 Big with delight, exulting in the deed, 
 The beau thank'd nature for an able head ; 
 The quaint deceit with tranfport fill'd his foul ; 
 And pleas'd, he triumph'd o'er the mufty fool ; 
 O'er him and all, who fway'd by truth and fenfe, 
 Scorn fuch low arts, and hate to give offence. 
 " This head," he cry'd, then fmil'd, and cry'd again. 
 " This head wS never known to think in vain." 
 
 He
 
 48 POEMS. 
 
 He could no more, for words are not defign'd 
 To paint the raptures of th' unthinking mind. 
 But ftrait he glow'd a fecond prank to try, 
 Heated with wit's warm blood and vi&ory. 
 So when a fox, with too much cunning wife, 
 Scorns the foul trap wherein his ruin lies; 
 By one attempt made bold, he quits his fear, 
 Nor dreads the lofs of tail, or foot, or ear. 
 Dangling his cane he rode, then rais'd it high 
 Switch'd his gay prancer, and prepar'd to fly ; 
 To fly, direded by his foolim brain, 
 Mad as his horfe, and fpungy as his cane; 
 Triumphant with his embryo fcheme he glow'd, 
 While ideot laughter echo'd as he rode. 
 
 'Twas then finifter omens damp'd his foul, 
 The mock of fenfe, but terror of the fool ; 
 His filken ftockings lucklefs dirt befmear'd, 
 
 And crofs the road the hated hare appear'd : 
 A boding raven on his golden hat 
 
 Difcharg'd his load, and croak'd the threats of fate. 
 
 Yet not difmay'd, he keeps his purpofe ftill, 
 
 For prefent joys o'erbalance future ill. 
 Now to the vicar's villa fee him come, 
 
 A final I, tho' neat, and well contented home; 
 
 Thither he flew, as one that flies for life, 
 
 And calls with earneft voice the vicar's wife. 
 
 Vicaria foon appear'd ; " hafte, haile," he cries, 
 
 " In yonder road your helplefs hulband lies ; 
 
 " His leg, alas! thrown by the found'ring jade; 
 
 " I faw him fall; oh! haften to his aid ! 
 
 " I'll go myfelf," he faid; then turn'd his fteed, 
 
 And urg'd the nimble beaft with utmoft fpeed. 
 
 She
 
 POEMS. 49 
 
 She heard, aftonifh'd, the ambiguous tale; 
 The blood forfakes her cheeks, her fpirits fail ; 
 Convulfive conflicts tear her tender bread, 
 She finks, me fvvoons, with thoufand fears oppreft; 
 Her maid, her neighbours fly to give her eafe, 
 And try each art her forrows to appeafe. 
 
 When men to ferious follies will defcend, 
 We know not where the fad effe&s may end; 
 A ferious liar is a dang'rous thing, 
 Sharp is his poifon, tho' conceal'd his fling. 
 
 At length reviv'd, fhe thus difclos'd her woe, 
 " Ah fatal tale, fad, unexpected blow ! 
 " My hufbad lies oh, agonizing grief! 
 " In yonder road hafte, hafte, to his relief." 
 Through all that heard, one common forrow fpread; 
 They mourn the living vicar as the dead : 
 And run in crowds to give him inftant aid. 
 The grief was general ; for in ev'ry plain, 
 A general bleffing is an honeft man. 
 
 Soft as the breezes moving on the fea, 
 When waves on waves in circling eddies play j 
 Sweet as the air, when Flora fpreads around 
 Her balmy odours on the painted ground ; 
 When teeming nature, with her genial pow'r, 
 Smells in the rofe, and blooms in every flow'r : 
 So rural life has ev'ry charm to pleafe, 
 Dear hours of genuine innocence and eafe : 
 New beauties blofTom as the old decay, 
 And big with pleafure day fucceeds to day. 
 Can Morio then, midft fcenes like thefe, delight, 
 Like a black mildew, to arife and blight ? 
 Can Morio fmile to pain an honeft heart, 
 And cloud jhe calms which truth and worth impart! 
 
 H But 
 
 1
 
 50 POEMS. 
 
 But fee, the florm is o'er, the prieft appears, 
 And fhouts of tranfport follow floods of tears : 
 The happy wife, with pleafure-melted eye, 
 Draws near, and kindly teftifies her joy. 
 The tale was told; well pleas'd the prieft reply'd, 
 " I envy not the victor's fcherne, or pride; 
 " In thy concern a greater blifs I know, 
 " Than all his boafted cunning can beftow." 
 But good Vicaria, born of gentle blood, 
 At Morio's bold affront with anger glow'd ; 
 And with revenge infpir'd the ardent train ; 
 But Morio abfent, their revenge was vain : 
 Yet ftill the heroine bade the num'rous band 
 Keep inftruments of difcipline in hand. 
 So on the feas, no Gallic foe in view, 
 Rides Britain's fleet, and burns the Britifh crew 
 For future combat, with true courage fir'd, 
 Such as by Anfon, Warren, Hawke infpir'd. 
 
 Seven days were paft, when rofe the eighth great light, 
 Big with the fate of Morio, and of wit. 
 Vicaria with delight that morning view'd, 
 For all her omens and her dreams were good : 
 And now th' aufpicious day was almoft fpent, 
 Ordain'd to perfect the renown'd event ; 
 When Morio, by his evil genius led, 
 Genteely cant'ring towards the village fped. 
 With tranfport flie beheld, and out (he flies, 
 While her fhrill voice re-echoes to the Ikies ; 
 Quick at her call the villagers appear, 
 Morio rode on, nor knew the danger near ; 
 Amaz'd he faw unnumber'd plowmen ftand, 
 Grafping their long thong'd whips with threatning hand : 
 
 Amaz'd
 
 POEMS. 51 
 
 Amaz'd he heard incefiant clamours found, 
 
 And wit, revenge, and Morio echo round. 
 
 But what were plowmen, whips and clamorous tongues, 
 
 To the dread laming of the cracking thongs ! 
 
 Flight was his only hope, he fpurr'd his horfe, 
 
 The viftors, thronging round, oppofe his courfe. 
 
 Paftorio give him to the trump of fame, 
 
 While (lands the village, live the hero's name; 
 
 Paftorio firft, difdaining diftant war, 
 
 Rufh'd to his fide, and with a manly air, 
 
 Seiz'd his neat leg, and dragg'd him to the ground ; 
 
 When fix'd on vengeance croud the women round. 
 
 What tongue can e'er recount, what numbers tell, 
 
 The thoufand blows that on the witling fell ; 
 
 In vain he pray'd, in vain he begg'd relief, 
 
 The laughing clowns to all his cries were deaf; 
 
 Nor pity felt for coat all filver'd o'er : 
 
 Alas, what mufe th' affliction can deplore ! 
 
 Strange that for lace no pity they exprefs, 
 
 No kind regard for fuch a mining drefs ! 
 
 Such was his fate ; and now revenge's fire 
 Began to languifh, and their rage to tire : 
 When thus Vicaria, with contented look, 
 And heart benevolent, the crowd befpoke : 
 The crowd all liften'd, while two fturdy fwains 
 Held fait poor Morio, trembling with his pains ; 
 " Friends, neighbours, all, with pleafure I furvey 
 " The great event of this aufpicious day ; 
 " My hopes are gain'd, and all my wifhes crown'd, 
 " Folly's vain fon a due reward has found. 
 " Wits hence (hall learn to dread their ferious lies, 
 " To cheat the honeft, and to bite the wife; 
 
 H 2 " Wits
 
 5 * POEMS. 
 
 " Wits reign fhall ceafe, for all her fons fnall know, 
 
 " Senfe, foon or late, retorts a vengeful blow ; 
 
 ' Senfe foon or late, mall o'er their follies foar, 
 
 " And Morio's fate be fung till witlings be no more." 
 
 She ceas'd A jolly farmer's wife reply'd, 
 
 Laughing, her hands held either making fide ; 
 
 Attention liften'd to the merry dame, 
 
 While thus with rofy looks, fhe fpoke her fcheme: 
 
 " Poor youth, I know not but this cruel ftrife 
 
 ' May coft him dear, may rob him of his life : 
 
 *' If thus, befmear'd with dirt, from hence we fend him-, 
 
 " Let us have pity to yon well attend him ; 
 
 " There wafh him clean this kindnefs will repay 
 
 " His former ills, and wipe his rage away." 
 
 She laugh'd aloud; they heard the fcheme well pleas'd, 
 When from his dirty bed the youth was rais'd : 
 All pale he flood, he knew not what they meant, 
 Vainly entreating, trembling for th' event. 
 Sad fight, behold the queue behind undone, 
 His hair difhevell'd, and his beaver gone : 
 His fliirt all black ; the dirt conceal'd the lace, 
 And help'd to (hew the whitenefs of his face. 
 Thus in the fhades below, dread realms of night, 
 Deiphobus furpriz'd the Trojan's fight ; 
 With wounds all cover'd o'er the hero flood, 
 While pale ^Eneas trembled as he view'd. 
 
 But now, my mufe, contract thy tedious fong, 
 Patience muft tire whene'er a tale's too long ; 
 Suffice it in the bucket he was laid, 
 Thrice duck'd, and thrice uprear'd his weeping head. 
 The vicar, with his pipe, flood looking on, 
 And foberly advis'd them to have done : 
 They all obey'd, the witling was releas'd, 
 And, with Vicaria, all the village pleas'd.
 
 POEMS. 53 
 
 CUPID DETECTED: 
 
 TO MISS W 
 
 AS t'other morning over Margate's bay, 
 Apollo drove the orient car of day ; 
 Beneath the canvafs, with enraptur'd eyes,* 
 
 He favv fair W - - n, from the waves arife; 
 
 (His eyes the queen of love detefts their fight 
 Thro' all things pierce, impertinently bright.) 
 And as he view'd the virgin's finilh'd frame, 
 The amorous god foon felt the tender flame ; 
 Mufic's the food of love he caught the lyre, 
 For ever tuneful with the golden wire ; 
 And with his flying fingers touch'd the firings, 
 To his foft ftrains his voice melodious {ings ; 
 
 No, no, mighty Jove, I'd not envy thy portion, 
 Thy heaven for Me thou unrivall'd might'ft have, 
 
 Were I but the God, the bleft God of the ocean ; 
 Were I but of ocean one favorite wave ! 
 
 That wave which receives and encircles tranfported, 
 Which curls round the waiit, and enjoys all the 
 charms 
 
 Of her, by each fhepherd fo anxioufly courted, 
 Bat worthy to gladden a God's rofy arms, 
 
 * The reader fliould be informed here, that the ladies at Margate 
 bathe in the fea, under an umbrella of canvafs, which, is fix'd at 
 the end of the machines. 
 
 Hence,
 
 54 POEMS. 
 
 Hence, hence, ye vain fultors! fince Daphne fo 
 charming, 
 
 So coyly refus'd and fo cruelly fled ; 
 No nymph, with fuch paflion my bofom alarming, 
 
 Seem'd worthy my wifh, or feem'd worthy my bed. 
 
 Sweet maid, for thy fake, would I leave my high 
 ftation, 
 
 And a fhepherd again on my oaten pipe play. 
 Or if my bright nymph would prefer elevation, 
 
 Come, fit by my fide here, and make double day! 
 
 To win thee perhaps, I might urge that the glory, 
 Of Beauty, of wit, and of fong are all mine ; 
 
 But confcious alas I difown them before thee; 
 Soft fong, modeft wit, and chafle beauty are thine ! 
 
 I'll rather avow my fincere adoration, 
 
 And wifh thee to blefs me, my charmer, my bride; 
 I'll rather prefent my unfeign'd and foft paffion, 
 
 And wooe thee to come, and to fit by my fide. 
 
 The fweets of domeitic felicity blooming, 
 
 Together we'll crop from affection's fweet grove ; 
 
 And each happy morning, its verdure refuming, 
 I'll place on thy brow a frelh chaplct of love. 
 
 Thus fang the God, and inftant gave command, 
 To bear the tender lay to Cupid's hand ; 
 That he forthwith to Margate might depart, 
 And with the fong, engage the fair one's heart. 
 
 Quick
 
 POEMS. 55 
 
 Quick on a fun-beam JEthon fhot away, 
 To bear to Cupid's hand the tender lay ; 
 But vain he fought him in th' Idalian groves, 
 Amidft the laughing nymphs, and fporting loves : 
 Truant he flies, his mother ftrait begun, 
 " Midft revel-routs and orgies feek my fbn ; 
 *' No more the Cyprian fcenes engage his ftay, 
 " The God of wine has led my fon aftray !" * 
 
 Inftant as thought the faithful JEthon flies, 
 And with the drunken God young Cupid fpies j 
 Empurpled were the beauties of his face, 
 Each feature flufh'd, and bloated every grace. 
 *' Hafte, hafte, faid ^Ethon, Phcebus gives command, 
 
 *' Bear this foft lay to lovely W n's hand !" 
 
 " I know her well, 'the fullen boy rejoin'd; 
 " But ah, 1 hate her for her matchlefs mind ; 
 " Her charms, her fenfe, too elegant for me ; 
 " And, truth to fay, fhe fcorns my deity. 
 " Scorns my connections with this honeft God; 
 " 1 hate her, for fhe's chafte, and wife and good. 
 " But fince inferior pow'rs muft needs obey 
 " Attend me, Difcord; and take thou the lay." 
 
 He fpoke indignant ; wav'd his rofeat wings, 
 And to the deftin'd fair his meiTage brings ; 
 He faw her at the brilliant ball appear 
 The faireft virgin fhe, where all are fair ! 
 
 W n's lov'd name malicioufly eras'd; 
 
 Lucinda's in its ftead had difcord plac'd : 
 
 * See the next poem : the Cupid here mention'd, is the fame 
 with that whom Clorinda laments. 
 
 " Love-
 
 56 -POEMS. 
 
 " Love-fongs, quOth Cupid! take and read, and guefs 
 " Whofe praife, fweet mifs, the amorous lines exprefs : 
 *' Lucinda yet 'midft thefe bright belles to rife, 
 " And to eclipfe all yours, with her refplendent eyes." 
 
 He fpoke, and ftern like Ajax' ghoft retir'd ; 
 We feiz'd the fong, with curious ardour fir'd; 
 But quick difcern'd the little urchin's art, 
 And faw the turnings of his envious heart ; 
 All with one voice the proper nymph affign, 
 And own Luanda's praife, fair W n, juftly thine,. 
 
 CLORINDA's
 
 POEMS. 57 
 
 CLORINDA'S LAMENTATION 
 
 ON THE ABSENCE OF CUPID FROM MARGATE. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 " A gentleman, whofe beauty and addrefs procured 
 " him the appellation of Cupid from the ladies two 
 " years ago, afted as mafter of the ceremonies at 
 " Margate, in which capacity he is at prefent 
 " greatly wanted. Upon this the following lines are 
 " founded." 
 
 A S on the wave-worn coaft I lately trod, 
 <L\. And heard the roarings of the watry God, 
 On a lone cliff, with barren fea-weed fpread, -\ 
 
 Clorinda fat I wond'ring faw ; and fped C 
 
 With zealous hafte, to greet the blooming maid. 3 
 But, as I nearer drew, encreas'd furprize 
 Sprung from her penfive look and downcaft eyes : 
 With earneft warmth, " Ah why, lov'd fair, I cried, 
 " Doft thou from fweet fociety divide ? 
 " Why feek the craggy cliff, and gloomy ftrand ? 
 " Why lean thy head upon thy fnowy hand? 
 " And why do looks of fadnefs, charmer, why, 
 " Thus damp the living luftre of thine eye ?" 
 
 " And can you afk, me faid, or want to know 
 " Whence fprings my own, and whence each female's 
 
 " woe, 
 
 <c That dives for rofy health in Margate's waves ; 
 " That feeks in Margate's rooms for willing flaves? 
 
 I " Learn,
 
 5 <3 POEMS. 
 
 " Learn, learn the truth and our fad lofs deplore 
 " Cupid, capricious God, is here no more I" 
 
 All fympathctic, with the maid I figh'd : 
 And " ah capricious cruel Cupid cried !" 
 
 " Who now, faid fhe, fhall thro' the rooms advance, 
 " Guide the gay band, and lead the fprightly dance ? 
 Who now the graceful minuet direct, 
 " And wdl-chofen partners for the fair feleft ? 
 " Who, to the tuneful band, with glove fo white, 
 " Shall wave, and bid them play each maid's delight ? 
 " Or who the tables in the card-rooru fill* 
 " For fober whift, brifk loo, or blythe quadrille ? 
 
 " Ah fatal lofs ! with me that lofs deplore ! 
 " Cupid, capricious God, is here no more ! 
 
 " Who now can bear die once-lov'd rooms to tread, 
 " Whence with their mafler, every grace is fled ! 
 " And where each moment, by each object brought, 
 " His lov'd idea lives in every thought ! 
 " Where all ah gentle Deity, too plain 
 " Confefs thy abfence, and augment my pain? 
 " Silent we fit; expecting who fhall lead 
 " The mufic's filent and the beaux feem dead! 
 
 " Ah fatal lofs ! with me that lofs deplore; 
 " Cupid, capricious God, is here no more 1 
 
 " Perchance a lonely minuet's begun 
 " But \vho fhall dance the next, when this is done ?^ 
 " That's darknefs all, and doubt ! rank, beauty, grace, 
 " Avail not here Oh come refume thy place; 
 '* Come gentle Cupid, fee we fit in vain 
 *' And brifkly move our fans with warm difdain 
 " Far other motions do we wifh to prove 
 " Return, and crown our wifhes, God of Love! 
 
 Ah
 
 POEMS. 50 
 
 ct Ah fatal lofs, let us lament no more : 
 " But come, dear Cupid, and our joys reflore ! 
 
 " While thou art abfent, every fcene appears 
 " Dull as my heart, and mournful as my fears : 
 '* More loud and boiflerous roars th' indignant fea, 
 " And the rough rocks feem rougher, wanting thee: 
 " Intrepid to the bath I once cou'd hie, 
 " For Love was there: and he could foon defcry 
 *' The eye's new luflre, and the cheek's frefh dye, 
 " Now, to that bath with timid flep I go, 
 " And plunge affrighted to the gulph below ; 
 " With unconcern I leave the dull machine ; 
 " For now what now avails it to be feen ? 
 ' What now avails the cheek's re-kindled flufh \ 
 " No love is here and vain is beauty's blufh ! 
 
 " Oh the fad lofs, let us lament no more; 
 " Come, come, dear Cupid, and our joys reflore ! 
 
 " Return, oh Cupid, God of Love return, 
 " Nor let Clorinda unavailing mourn : 
 " Return, and to the rooms their life reflore, 
 " And give to beauty all its former pow'r : 
 " Return, and with thee bring thy bow : for hearts 
 ** Our eyes fhall furnifh out fufncient darts : 
 *< Return, or from the cliffs myfelf along 
 " I'll cafl, like her fo fam'd in claffic fong ; 
 " Qr elfe from hence I'll go " With me, fweet 
 
 " maid," 
 
 Seizing the foftnefs of her hand T faid, 
 '* To yonder rooms, where crowds of fuitors wait, 
 " And wonder why Clorinda flays fo late : 
 " Where you {hall quickly find, that you complain 
 " Of Cupid's abfence, lovely fair, in vain: 
 
 I z " For
 
 ,} 
 
 60 POEMS. 
 
 " For Cupid's abfence of no weight can prove, 
 
 " Where his own mother comes, the queen of love! 
 
 " And, when th' unerring fhafts herfelf fupplies ) 
 
 " By which the throbbing heart delighted dies, 
 
 " From her own rofy lips, and love-infpiring eyes 
 
 The fair one fmil'd : nor yet withdrew her hand ; 
 
 Nor unrelu&ant left the barren ftrand. 
 
 I prefs'd her lips, her eyes new luftre gain'd ; 
 
 Her cheeks a frefher tint of crimfon ftain'd : 
 
 And as me pafs'd all-graceful up the room, 
 
 In elegance of mein, and beauty's bloom ; 
 
 The belles with admiration view'd the maid, 
 
 And the rapt beaux in filent awe furvey'd. 
 
 While general pleafure fpeedily declar'd, 
 
 That where his mother fmiles, Cupid may well be fpar'd 
 
 TO
 
 POEMS. 61 
 
 TO THE AUTHOR OF TRISTRAM SHANDY. 
 
 OX THE PUBLICATION OF HIS THIRD AND FOURTH 
 VOLUMES. 
 
 YES, tney will laugh j but whom, O S c, 
 enquire ? 
 
 The wretched fons of vice and foul defire : 
 To thefe your page immoral may be dear, 
 But virtue o'er it fheds the confcious tear : 
 The wife, the modefl, view it with concern ; 
 Deteft the matter, and the mafter mourn. 
 
 Is it for this you wear the facred gown, 
 To write and live the Shandy of the town ? 
 Is it for this the holy hand was laid, 
 Thrice awful confecration ! on your head ? 
 Is it for this the facred page was giv'n 
 To teach high truths, and point the way to heav'n? 
 Is it for this, that, trifier loofe and vain, 
 With page unhallow'd, and with pen obfcene, 
 You might againft the caufe of goodnefs war, 
 Soil the pure mind, and truth's fair features mar ? 
 
 Ah! think what you will furely know too foon, 
 Tho' fome may laugh, none love the loofe buffoon: 
 But of buffoons the fcorn and verieft fellow, 
 Is the buffoon, ftrange monfter in prunello! 
 With all your might, tho' you have ftretch'd your hand, 
 To fcatter poifon, and defile the land ; 
 Yet let me once my gratulations pay, 
 For that your will exceeds your beft effay :
 
 62 POEMS. 
 
 I joy to praife you for your fouleft meet, 
 Jefts moft indelicate, and dearth of wit. 
 The time will come, when you with me fhall join, 
 To blefs the blafting of each putrid line : 
 For oh the time will come, when you fhall feel 
 Stabs in your heart more (harp than ftabs of fteel ; 
 When confcience loud, fhall thunder in your ear, 
 And all your wide-fpread ill in horrid form appear ? 
 
 Prevent the hour, for pity's fake I afk, 
 And oh, perform your own advifed tafk ; * 
 Search your own heart, you'll find the debt is large, 
 And hafle, perform the duties of your charge ; 
 Leave the vile town, nor wifh it in your pow'r, 
 To mine the giddy meteor of an hour. 
 Ah ! you have talents, do not mifapply, 
 Ah you have time, feize, feize it, ere it fly ; 
 Strait feize it, for too fhort you needs muft own 
 Whate'er of life remaineth to atone 
 For all the filth diffus'd, and evil you have done. 
 
 * See Sterne's Sermons, Vol.1. Sermon 4th. 
 
 A N
 
 POEMS. 63 
 
 AN ELEGY 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS 
 THE PRINCE OF WALES. 
 
 LAnguage is faint true forrow to exprefs, 
 To fpeak the pallion of a wounded foul : 
 The more we fuffer we complain the lefs, 
 
 The rill flows babbling, deep ftreams filcnt roll. 
 
 The head with mute expreffivc pity mov'd, 
 The big tear lab'ring in your people's eye, 
 
 Too fpeakingly proclaim, how much belov'd, 
 Dear prince, you liv'd, how much lamented die. 
 
 In deep fufpence, fuch folemn fcenes around, 
 I Hand, where firlr, to touch the lyre of woe; 
 
 As leaning on his ax, where trees abound, 
 
 The woodman doubts where firft to fix the blow. 
 
 Oh princefs yet at that unhappy name 
 Why does my pen th' ungrateful tafk deny ? 
 
 Why fpreads a dampy chilnefs o'er my frame, 
 And tears unbidden croud into my eye ? 
 
 So tender is the theme, the mufes mourn, 
 
 And fear to fpeak, what fpeaking they mult wrong; 
 
 Por as no words her virtues can adorn, 
 So is her grief beyond the reach of fong. 
 
 Oh
 
 64 POEMS. 
 
 Oh for the plaintive voice, the mournful tone 
 Soft-trilling thro' the filence of the night 
 
 Of haplefs Philomel, when all alone, 
 
 On bared bough, me wails her widow'd plight: 
 
 Then cou'd my foul in foft complainings tell, 
 
 How Frederick lov'd, and how that love was bleft : 
 
 How dear he liv'd, how dear and when he fell, 
 Ah me what anguifh pierc'd Augulta's bread ! 
 
 Theirs was no common love, no common flame, 
 Not from the wanton heat of paflion fprung, 
 
 Whofe joy is tranfient, and whofe blifs a name ; 
 Senfe tied the knot, which tendernefs made ftrong : 
 
 Built on efteem a mutual friendfhip rofe, 
 
 Time faw that friendlhip conftantly improve: 
 
 And friendftiip fo refin'd, foon fondnefs grows, 
 Soon foftly mellows into firmeit love. 
 
 Such, fuch was their's; but when a beauteous race 
 Their parent's triumph, and their nation's care, 
 
 Was giv'n indulgent to their dear embrace, 
 How was their mutual love cemented there ! 
 
 Oh to behold 'em as they pafs'd along 
 
 With their fweet babes, the lov'd and loving pair: 
 Their blifs was painted in the gazing throng, 
 
 Each eye proclaim'd their happinefs fincere. 
 
 Britons,
 
 POEMS. 65 
 
 Britons, alas, no more mall ye furvey, 
 
 With longing looks, the lovely glorious fight : 
 Heav'n has too foon your favourite fnatch'd away, 
 
 The hulband's mirror, and the realm's delight. 
 
 Who mall prefume heaven's awful ways to fcan, 
 
 Or reafon of its dealings here below ? 
 Myfterious are its holy ways to man : 
 
 That God is good, is all we need to know. 
 
 Weep not, fair princefs, nor thy fortune blame, 
 Some great reward in future times is thine : 
 
 From earth fet free, above yon ftarry frame 
 
 Thou with thy God and with thy prince fhalt mine. 
 
 Wait then refign'd the hallow'd will of heav'n, 
 AfTuage thy tears, and bid thy grief fubfide, 
 
 Alas ! how eafy confolation's giv'n, 
 When fwells not full the heart with forrow's tide ! 
 
 Tho' much I feel, how deep thy grief to mine ! 
 
 How vain the thought to bid thee ceafe to mourn ! 
 Thou art a mortal: and to feel is thine; 
 
 It is enough, thy forrows can be borne. 
 
 Where mail thy prattling race their father fee, 
 So fond, fo tender; haplefs widow, where? 
 
 Sportive no more mail they afcend his knee, 
 Or lifp their little ftories in his ear ? 
 
 Oft
 
 66 POEMS. 
 
 Oft fhall thy bofom heave unbidden fighs, 
 
 Oft down thy cheeks fhall fteal the gufhing tear*, 
 
 When fome fond infant aflcs, with ftreaming eyes, 
 Why now no more his dear papa appears ? 
 
 And yet there is who to the name of fon* 
 Is now no ftranger: for, in years tho' green, 
 
 Uncommon fenfe the blooming prince has mown, 
 Britannia's glory in his youth is feen. 
 
 Weep, weep, young prince, for thou haft loft a fire. 
 Beneath whofe hand in virtue thou hadft grown j 
 
 Let then his glories all thy bofom fire, 
 And make his ev'ry excellence thy own. 
 
 Hear thy fond mother tenderly relate 
 Thofe manly virtues ev'ry Briton lov'd : 
 
 Then weep thy country's lofs and father's fate. 
 And from his great example rife improv'd. 
 
 So when thy grandfire (hall to death's fure hand 
 At length fubmit, and double England's woe, 
 
 Another George may footh the fuff'ring land, 
 And bring his great forefathers back to view. 
 
 But, gracious heav'n, if Britain be thy care, 
 
 Nor yet our crimes have turn'd thy favour hence, 
 
 Awhile our monarch to our wifhes fpare, 
 At once his Nation's glory and defence. 
 
 * Our prefent moft amiable Sovereign, 
 
 Far
 
 POEMS. 67 
 
 F-ar from his bed each torturing pang remove, 
 
 And doubly fortify his lab'ring foul: 
 Tho' much he feels, let not the father's love 
 
 The father of his country's love controul. 
 
 Be his the mighty taflc his realms to guard, 
 And " fettle fure fucceffion in his line ;" 
 
 Be ours, great king, thy goodnefs to reward 
 With prayers inceffant : be our hearts all thine ! 
 
 There are perchance who wonder I refufe 
 Aloft to blazon Frederick's lov'd fame : 
 
 That were a talk wou'd well delight the mufe, 
 For much me joys to dwell upon his name. 
 
 But what avails it, Britons, to relate 
 
 His public virtues, and domeftic worth? 
 
 Each Briton knew them, each laments a fate 
 That tore fuch matchlefs virtues from our earth. 
 
 Weep all the people when a tyrant dies ! 
 
 Mourn for a worthlefs name the general throng ! 
 No, princefs, no: more fpeak thy people's eyes 
 
 Than all the mufic of applauding fong. 
 
 What tho' in tented fields, and deeds of war, 
 Where wide deftruftion claims the laurel crown, 
 
 Jie never fhone, nor drove Bellona's car, 
 Rattling o'er ruin to procure renown : 
 
 K. 2
 
 63 .POEMS. 
 
 A nobler fphere his milder virtues chofe, 
 Another Numa, born to blefs mankind; 
 
 To conquer in humanity he rofe, 
 
 And left the glorious madnefies behind. 
 
 In wide benevolence's ample plain, 
 
 He toil'd to make each focial art his own, 
 
 That Britain might with joy behold the train 
 Of truth and glory balking round his throne. 
 
 But what avail 'd his kind parental care, 
 Or ftudious labour for his country's weal ? 
 
 Heav'n deign'd not to beftow fuch favours here, 
 
 And fhew'd the more, that we the more might feel. 
 
 Severed fcourge upon our guilty land, 
 
 Whofe fapp'd foundations fcarce their burden bear, 
 Loaded with guilt the tott'ring ftruftures {land, 
 
 Nod to their fall, and daily ruin fear. 
 
 And lo how caft alide her orbed fhield, 
 
 Whereon right plain in fpeaking brafs is view'd, 
 
 Her ev'ry fon, who dar'd in glory's field 
 Each honeft danger for his country's good: 
 
 On the bare ground Britannia lies along, 
 
 And leans her head all mournful on her hand, 
 
 While clad in fable, melancholy throng 
 Weeping around fair virtue and her band. 
 
 The
 
 POEM S. 69 
 
 The mufes too in filent fort draw nigh, 
 
 And penfive with the forrowing maid recline ;^ 
 
 On their foft lutes the {trains unfinim'd die, 
 And to dumb grief they folemnly refign. 
 
 Parental fondnefs drooping fits afide, 
 
 With conjugal affeftion in his hand, 
 Bends his full eyes expreffive on his bride, 
 v Looks their fad lofs, and wails the widow'd land. 
 
 Freedom, whofe adamantine bofom knows 
 
 From common fufferings nought to touch her breaft, 
 
 Wild in her forrow, gives a loofe to woes, 
 
 For Frederick lov'd her, and ihe lov'd him bell. 
 
 Commerce at diftance rears her heavy head, 
 Her fable flag hangs heedlefs on her knee, 
 
 Neglecled at her feet her glories fpread, 
 Neglected droops her empire of the fea : 
 
 Oft wails ihe " Wherefore do I fondly blame 
 " For that a while my fons thy lofs mall feel ? 
 
 " Beneath thee nurtur'd, how had rofe my fame, 
 " For well thou knew'il my worth to Britain's weal." 
 
 Thus as me fpoke, methought theweftern Iky 
 Gay ftreaks of fplendid light illumin'd round ; 
 
 When, clad in fnowy robes, defcend from high 
 Bright forms, with gold and aramanthus crown'd ;
 
 7 POEMS. 
 
 A car, immortal luftre darting, fhone, 
 Borne in the bofom of a fleecy cloud, 
 
 When from the north a PERSONAGE came on, 
 Divine his look, divine the circling crowd : 
 
 Superior glory beam'd from out his eyes: 
 
 He mov'd; the fplendid car advanc'd along K 
 
 Where as he enter'd, forthwith to the ikies 
 The flafhing glory all triumphant fprung. 
 
 When 'midft foft melody th' angelic choir 
 
 Sooth'd with thefe accents each defponding breaft, 
 
 " Weep not for him, whom heav'nly joys require, 
 " Bewail not Frederick, Britons, he is bleft." 
 
 O N
 
 
 POEMS. 71 
 
 OK THE DEATH OF THE RIGHT REVD. 
 
 ANTHONY ELLIS, D. D. 
 
 BISHOP OF ST. DAVI D J S, &C. 
 TO THE LORD BISHOP OF CHESTER. 
 
 AN D muft my little ftore of friends high priz'd, 
 Be leflen'd, gracious heaven ! filent, I bow ! 
 But feels the poor man more his one lamb's lofs, 
 Than many failings from his plenteous flails 
 The proud, and wrecklefs wealthy. Oh, for thee, 
 In wifdom fage, how well could we have fpar'd 
 Enow of thofe, who bear in the broad day, 
 Their friendfhip gliU'mng on their brows, fmile-clad; 
 Yet kill with abfent ftabs j nor he/hate 
 To blaft young reputation in her bloom ! 
 Againft their breath envenom'd, who, like thee, 
 Shall teach to guard ! who all the facred arts 
 Of holy, happy, chearful, peaceful life 
 With winning grace inculcate.' not alone 
 By precept's flow deduction ; when we heard, 
 We faw ; th' example gave the leflbn life. 
 
 Nor from the golden fleece, from wifdom 's tree, 
 That with him flourifh'd fair, were we reilrain'd 
 Or by the dragon fierce of ftern difdain ; 
 Or flaming fword of fharp feverity. 
 Engaging candor, condefcenlion meek, 
 And affability, love's parent, bade 
 
 Approach :
 
 72 POEMS. 
 
 Approach : we came : and who, or unimprov'd 
 
 Return'd, or without heart-felt pleafure ? Him 
 
 Learning herfelf delighted ftill to hear, 
 
 And from him gain'd new knowledge ; deeply fkill'd 
 
 In theclogic fcience, he could well 
 
 Unfold the fecrets of the hallow'd page ; 
 
 Or well aflert (for well he knew) the laws, 
 
 The conftitution of that happy church, 
 
 Which boafted him a father!* Juft her boaft; 
 
 Yet, Herring f, man of heart benevolent 
 
 And undiffembled piety, of foul 
 
 Fit for the joys of heav'n be thine the praife! 
 
 Thou, watchful, faw'ft his worth, and bade it mine 
 
 In fairer day ; faw him in knowledge ripe, 
 
 In piety, in judgment: like thyfelf, 
 
 As far from wild enthufiafm's flare, 
 
 As fuperftition's vacant eye ; or look 
 
 Demure of fly hypocrify. Peace to you both, 
 
 E'er-honour'd pair ! you reap in golden blifs, 
 
 The meed of your fair virtues, truth and love, 
 
 From the chief fhepherd's hand. Oh how 1 joy 
 
 To hold the fair examples forth, and fhew 
 
 The envious maligners, on whofe tongues 
 
 Sits venom'd calumny, that Britain yet 
 
 Hath priefts, hath prelates, virtuous, able, good, 
 
 Religion's ornament ! Yes ; thefe withdrawn 
 
 She ftill can boaft. Or if it were allow'd, 
 
 Or ere the fun is fet, to facrifice 
 
 See hi; Trafts, &c. lately pupliflsed. 
 j- Late arclibilhon of Canterbury. 
 
 To
 
 POEMS. 73 
 
 To heroes Thou, my mufe, could'it alfo boaft 
 
 Of HIM, fair candor's patron, who may well 
 
 Claim this juft tribute to the friend he gave : 
 
 Noble munificence, to give a friend; 
 
 And fuch a friend ! how rare the boon ! of HIM 
 
 Whofe winning mild humanity will deign 
 
 From thee to take this little cyprefs-wreath 
 
 Woven by gratitude, and wet with tears, 
 
 And hang it on his Ellis's lov'd urn ! 
 
 But never may fad duty, oh bleft power 
 
 O'er life and death fupreme, accept my prayer! 
 
 Never may duty force me hence to weave 
 
 Another wreath like this, or to lament 
 
 The fetting of his fun, who fmil'd upon 
 
 My firft on my laft labour may he fmile ! 
 
 And long 1 when filent o'er my memory 
 
 Oblivion broods long may he live and fhed 
 
 His virtue's influence to blefs mankind ! 
 
 THE
 
 74 POEMS, 
 
 THE FRIEND. 
 
 A tf ELEGY. TO JOHN DORRIEN, E S Q^> 
 
 THoagh fortune fmile not on my low eftate, 
 Nor high-plum'd honours on my fteps attend : 
 Kind heav'n, I thank thee for the gift is great- 
 To footh my life, that thou haft lent a FRIEND ! 
 
 Thro' life's lone path, where wilds and weeds abound, 
 Where danger's threaten, and where forrows throng ; 
 
 Ah me, how fad to plod the weary round, 
 And tread in joylefs folitude along ! 
 
 Each lee grows rapid; and the noble mind. 
 Prompt to fair aftions of renowned meed, 
 
 Sinks liftlefs down ; for it defpairs to find 
 
 The lenient praife, which crowns the worthy deed. 
 
 That lenient praife, which ftimulates the heart ; 
 
 Yet gives no ftrength to pride's fantaftic reign ; 
 Which, blufhing, from her bower, draws true defert, 
 
 Well pleas'd to toil on virtue's ample plain ! 
 
 Thrice welcome labour, welcome honeft toil; 
 
 Run with delight, my foul, thine arduous race : 
 For much-lov'd Dorrien deigns the friendly fmile, 
 
 To quicken and invigorate thy pace !
 
 POEMS. 
 
 'Tis not the wordy wind of bloated fame, 
 The many's falfe and undifcerning praife : 
 
 Catch it, ye fools ! one man of worthy name 
 A generation of the vain outweighs ! 
 
 Let him approve, whom virtue's felf approves ; 
 
 On whom religion beams her pureft ray ; 
 Whom fledfaft truth, unbiafs'd candour loves, 
 
 And by whofe fide bright merit joys to ftay : 
 
 Let him approve, in whofe capacious breaft 
 
 Compaffion and benevolence refide; 
 From whofe large hand humanity diflreft 
 
 Yet ne'er went weeping, and unfatisfied ; 
 
 Let him approve 'twill charm the rage of care I 
 Let him approve if fuch a man there be: 
 
 Ah Dorrien, to my foul for ever dear, 
 How blefi am I! for thou, my friend, art HE ! 
 
 La TO
 
 7 6 POEMS. 
 
 TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR. 
 
 IN THE PERSON OF A CLERGYMAM PREFERRED 
 BY HIM.* 
 
 NO! witnefs, fvveet retreat, and every friend, 
 Who treads the threlhold of this place of reft ! 
 Witnefs, if I be filent, to commend 
 
 His bounty, here who gave me to be bleft. 
 
 Sweeter than fofteft mufic to my ear, 
 
 His name fhall dwell upon my thankful tongue : 
 And all who fee me, fhall be fure to hear 
 
 Of Henley's praife, my laft and earlieft fong. 
 
 Oh could I fpeak the fulnefs of my heart ! 
 
 Oh for a quill from the bold Theban fwan ! 
 Yet, yet my theme, without the aid of art, 
 
 Might into flame the coldeft bofom fan. 
 
 He faw me, drooping in affliftion's made, 
 
 Befet with painful penury around : 
 The noble mind oppreft, and fore difmay'd, 
 
 And the fad foul with grief's hard fhackles bound f 
 
 * This little poem ,refers to a real fat, an aft cf high benevo- 
 Jence of the prefent Lord Chancellor, which ftruck me much upon 
 hearing it, and occafioned thefe lines. 
 
 He
 
 POEMS. 77 
 
 He faw me toiling for the fcanty meed 
 
 Of hireling paftor, humble and unknown : 
 
 Full hard befet the little race to feed, 
 
 Which waited for their bread from me alone ! 
 
 Oh painful memory how oft my breaft 
 
 Has heav'd with anguifh, when a painful tear 
 
 Has caught my fight, which in her eye exprefs'd 
 My faithful confort, by long truth more dear, 
 
 Exprefs'd in her full eye our wants and woes ! 
 
 Oh melancholy view, forbear my foul ! 
 Look there, where chearful thought enraptur'd glows, 
 
 And blefs the bounteous Henley for the whole ! 
 
 He faw: he pitied ! pitied and relieved ! 
 
 Unafk'd, unfought, he rear'd my drooping head : 
 With tendernefs innate he faw, and griev'd, 
 
 And rais'd us, almoft rais'd us, from the dead ! 
 
 I had no friend, to afk or to implore 
 
 God was my friend, who, in my patron's heart, 
 
 Thofe virtues planted, which adorn him more 
 Than the beft honors beft of kings impart. 
 
 I had no friend, unpitied and undone, 
 
 All hope was hopelefs mifery extreme ! 
 
 When lo ! as on the darknefs burfts the fun, 
 On my diitrefs rofe Henley's bleffing beam ! 
 
 Oh
 
 7 5 POEMS. 
 
 Oh beam heart-chearing, which to wretches give* 
 New life, new light! my children, fpeak his praife: 
 
 Lifp, lifp, rny little ones, his name, who lives 
 To glad the wretched with his golden rays. 
 
 Thou too, my faithful confort, in the tale 
 Join ; to the lift'ning world we will declare, 
 
 How freely, nobly, from deep trouble's vale, 
 His hand uprais'd to blifs, and fix'd us here ! 
 
 For me, while words can dwell upon my tongue, 
 
 His goodnefs, honor, ftrifl integrity, 
 Firm truth, and patriot zeal, mail be my fong ! 
 
 And when that pow'r death's ftruggles mail deny; 
 
 My laft, laft prayers mall wing their way to heav'n, 
 Fervent, for bleffings on him ; on his race ! 
 
 While to my children this laft charge is giv'n, 
 * f In all your hearts be his the foremoft place." 
 
 THE
 
 POEMS. 79 
 
 THE MAN OF SOUTHGATE. 
 
 Quern fruftra quzfivit Cynicus olim, 
 
 Ecce inventus adeil 
 
 SURLY Cynic*, filent be, 
 Ceafe your fearch, and follow me; 
 Tho', through Greece in vain you ran, 
 I will lead you to a man. 
 
 Thro' the walk, with fhrubs o'ergrown, 
 Scenty fhrubs, and flowrets blown, 
 Mount we yonder green parterre, 
 Whence the profpecl widens far ; 
 Farther yet, and farther fhews 
 Living landfchapes, verdant views 
 V/here the ftill enraptured fight, 
 Drinks in draughts of new delight. 
 Then the limpid rill furvey 
 Thro' the wild that winds its way; 
 On whofe flower-ennamel'd bank, 
 Weeping willows, oziers dank, 
 Hang their penfive heads, and fay, 
 Nature's robe is ftol'n away, 
 
 * The allufion Is to the known ftor.y of Diogenes, the Cynic 
 philofopher, who replied to a perfon that aflced him what he wat 
 doing with a lighted torch in hit hand ia the day-time ? " I am 
 ** /seking fora man," 
 
 Stol'n
 
 So POEMS. 
 
 Stol'n by art, fo well exprefs'd, 
 
 All feems nature nicely drefs'd. 
 
 Now the river's liquid clue, 
 Thro' the mazy wild perfue, 
 
 To the ftiell-enwoven cave, 
 Meditation's living grave : 
 Or to the arboret's fliaded feat, 
 Where love, the boy, delights to meet 
 Youth his fifter, ever fair, 
 Nurtur'd by coy virtue's care ; 
 Loves to meetj and {port and twine 
 Like the rofe and eglantine. 
 Treading, as on fairy ground, 
 To the temple trip it round, 
 To the temple confecrate 
 To fidelity the mate. 
 He and tendernefs the bride 
 There in form of doves refide : 
 Happy doves, that all the day, 
 Live and love, and coo and play j 
 Happy doves, that conftant ever, 
 Love unites, nor death can fever. 
 Faffing this enchanting place ; 
 See the manfion mews its face ! 
 Comely-Cynic, tho' grown old, 
 Hofpitality behold ! 
 Conftant at the door me ftands, 
 Smiles", and opes her courteous hands : 
 While benevolence, the grace, 
 Soft of heart, and fweet of face, 
 To the mailer will attend, 
 To the man, her choiceft friend ; 
 
 E'er
 
 POEMS. 81 
 
 With whom always /he'd remain, 
 She and all her focial train ; 
 Pity, with the melting eye, 
 Adlive worth, humanity; 
 Sincerity, rare feen abroad, 
 And generofity, the god. 
 
 Cynic, come, put out your torch, 
 I have found him ; ceafe your fearch ! 
 And the man tell whcm you will 
 Is Go DIN, upon Southgate Hill. 
 
 M SON-
 
 8* POEMS. 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 OCCASIONED BY READING " THE TRUTH AND 
 
 " IMPORTANCE OF NATURAL AND REVEALED 
 
 " RELIGION." BV S. SQUIRE} D- D DEAN OF 
 BRISTOL, &C. 
 
 MEthought I faw in vifion t'other morn, 
 Celeftial reafon in her azure veft: ". 
 
 A ftar there was, which blaz'd upon her breaft, 
 And placid fweetnefs did her brow adorn. 
 
 Firm judgment here, and gentle candour flood, 
 With meek-ey'd charity, befide the queen; 
 With many graces more ; but chief was feen 
 
 Inflrudlion, hand in hand, with public good. 
 
 Attendant thefe on heavenly reafon came, 
 And on religion's fhrine an offering laid ; 
 
 I faw it flrait her whole attention claim : 
 
 Then what it was, how could I but enquire ? 
 Inftant with rapture, " 'tis my fon's," me faid ; 
 
 " The polifh'd page of my judicious 
 
 G R A-
 
 POEMS. 8j 
 
 GRATITUDE AND MERIT. 
 
 MERIT and Gratitude, they fay, 
 Met at a court the other day : 
 " The mitre, Gratitude, fays Merit; 
 " The vacant mitre, who muft wear it ?" 
 Strait Gratitude, a royal darae, 
 
 Her finger fix'd on A gh's name: 
 
 Bright Merit fmiling, faid, with thee 
 'Tis virtue always to agree : 
 But were I granted my defire, 
 Thou know'ft that I fhou'd fix on SQJJIRE. 
 
 SON-
 
 84 P O E M 3. 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 OCCASIONED BY HEARING A YOUNG LADY SING 
 
 SPENSER'S AMORETTI, &c. SET TO MUSIC 
 
 BY DR. GREENE. 
 
 AH, gentle EDMUND, when thy ditties fweetj 
 Belinda, mufic's philoraela, fings, 
 Raptur'd, I own the harmony compleat, 
 
 Sweet poefy, fweet fair, fweet voice, fweet firings. 
 
 Ah poet, worthy of fuch minftrelfy j 
 
 Soft minftrelfy fuch poet meriting ! 
 Midft chill negleft, I wot, and penury, 
 
 Thou, Edmund, woud'ft have joy'd to hear her fing. 
 
 For well I ween, that melody can bring 
 Compofure foft and tranquil to the mind ; 
 
 Since 1 (tho' in nought elfe thee equalling, 
 
 Yet who, like thee, cold praife, and barren find ;) 
 
 Can all my ills forget, thefe ftrains to hear. 
 
 Oh then, dear harmonift, indulge a prayer, 
 
 Sing on; and lull to fleep that triple Cerberus, care! 
 
 * Alluding to the following lines of Spenfer, in which he fpeak 
 of himfelf. 
 
 Soprayfen babes the peacock's Harry train ; 
 And wondren at bright Argus' blazing eye ; 
 But who rewards him e'er the more forthy ? 
 Or feeds him once the fuller by a grain ? 
 Sike praife is fmoke, that flieddeth in the flde, 
 Sike words been winde, and waften foane in vainev
 
 POEMS. S$ 
 
 TO DANIEL WEBB, ESQj AT BATH, 
 
 ON READING IN MS. HIS DIALOGUE IN FAVOUR 
 OF BLANK VERSE, &C. 
 
 HOW few, oh Webb, by fpnghtly wit infpir'd, 
 True judgment guided, and bright genius fir'd; 
 Above all vulgar prejudice can foar, 
 And paths untried with daring fteps explore ! 
 To cuftom flaves, they quench the fpark divine, 
 And with faint rays of fervile copyifts fhine. 
 Oh bane of genius ! how the tribe I hate ; 
 What imitator ever yet was great ? 
 
 Friend of the mufes, of true tafte the friend, 
 With joy I read, with rapture I commend ; 
 Proceed ; and hurl falfe tafte, th' ufurper, down ; 
 And place immortal Shakefpeare * on his throne: 
 Proceed, proceed ; and from the power of fong 
 Unloofe the Gothic chain, which bound her long :. 
 Which ftill the tinkling train of rhymers try 
 Softly to clink, and fafter iHll to tie : 
 So mall the fitter arts thy praife proclaim, 
 And thefe mail fing, and thofe mall paint f thy fame. 
 
 * Mr. Webb takes all his examples from Shakefpeare. 
 f- See Mr. Webb's excellent treatils on painting. 
 
 T O
 
 86 POEMS, 
 
 TO DR. HAYTER, 
 
 LATE BISHOP OF LONDON. 
 
 NO more, my friend ; nor check the honeit lay 
 Which merit animates the mufe to pay ; 
 What tho' undignify'd by rank or place, 
 No titles gild her, and no honours grace ; 
 Is worth, is truth to rank or place confm'd ? 
 Or have they left their feat, the virtuous mind ? 
 No, no, my friend ; nor will the wife difdain 
 The heart's free tribute, as an offering vain. 
 Tho' mean the prefent, which the poor man brings 
 To the dread altar of the king of kings ; 
 Yet pleas'd his grateful piety to own, 
 Th' almighty fmiles applaufive from his throne. 
 
 Nor thou, O HAYTER, fhalt contemn the fong 
 Which longs to join the gratulating throng ; 
 And midft the friendly train, tho' laft, appear, 
 To pour its beft good wimes in thy ear ! 
 Oh happy in thy monarch's grateful choice ! 
 Oh happy in thy flock's affenting voice ! 
 His choice alone were higheft dignity : 
 But ftill to blefs thee more had we been free 
 To choofe our choice unanimous hadfix'd on thee 
 What coud'il thou more defire to fill thy breaftj 
 With honeft gladnefs, and with heart-felt reft? 
 What more defire to elevate thy name, 
 High in the records of immortal fame ? 
 
 I 
 
 Yet
 
 POEMS. 87 
 
 Yet more thou hail, triumphant But, no firing 
 Difcordant touch we; while with joy we ling, 
 And hail thee, pleas'd, to fair Augufta's fee : 
 Where long, ah long triumphant may'ft thou be 
 O'er foes, not lefs or meaner to engage, 
 The family of pain, and cares of age ! 
 Long may'ft thou live, a bieffing to mankind, 
 Still, as we've known thee, generous andrefin'd: 
 Foe to all art ; good, unreferv'd and free, 
 Mild without meannefs, meek with dignity: 
 Friend to all fcience, to all worth a friend, 
 And lib'ralto affift, as to commend! 
 Long may'ft thou live, and with a ray betiign 
 On the fair caufe of pure religion mine. 
 Long may'ft thou live, ftill chearful and careft, 
 And long by bieffing find thyfelf moft bleft. 
 
 Thus fung the mufe, in artlefs ftrains fmcere : 
 Let truth, her advocate, the numbers bear, 
 Howe'er imperfect, well defign'd ; and fay, 
 She'll ftrive to mend them on another day. 
 
 PRO.
 
 S3 POEMS. 
 
 PROLOGUE TO MILTON'S COMUS, 
 
 PERFORMED BY SOME YOUNG GENTLEMEN, BEFORE 
 THEIR PARENTS AND RELATIONS. 
 
 NOT to outvy the heroes of the ftage, 
 Or rife the little Garricks of the age, 
 Are our fond hopes, is our attempt defign'd, 
 To narrower, but to nobler views confin'd. 
 To move with dignity, to fpeak with eafe, 
 In life alike to profit and to pleafe, 
 Warms our young breads, our every bofom fires, 
 And prompts to toil, which future good infplres. 
 And can we then, fuch motives in our view, 
 Doubt or of candour, or regard from you ? 
 
 While virtue's generous pleadings we rehearfe, 
 Fram'd by the blind bard in immortal verfe, 
 From youth unfkill'd arife whatever fears, 
 We know that parents have indulgent ears. 
 On thefe we truftour weaknefs to befriend, 
 And pardon faults we much defire to mend. 
 O that in jufl return for all your love, 
 Might our improvements with our years improve; 
 And your fond bofoms glow with generous joy, 
 While each with rapture hears his darling boy, 
 Or in Britannia's much lov'd caufe harangue, 
 While on his lips the lift'ning fenates hang; 
 Or at the bar, with eloquence divine, 
 The Murrays of our age confpicuous fhine ; 
 Or with perfuafion fweet and reafon ftrong, 
 Confirm the pious and convince the wrong ; 
 
 And
 
 POEMS. S 
 
 And bring the erring from the ways they trod 
 Deflruclive, home to happinefs and God. 
 
 Thou blefl religion, whatfoe'er's decreed, 
 What path of life foe'er we chance to tread ; 
 Defcend, bright guardian, and with gentle fway 
 Rule our whole lives, and guide our every way. 
 Thou too, fair virtue, on our Heps attend, 
 Compaffion humanize, and truth befriend. 
 From youth to manhood may we nobly rife, 
 Each day more virtuous, and each day more wile; 
 Glow more and more with generous warmth to prove 
 Worthy at once of your's, our God's, and country's love 
 
 N THE
 
 90 POEMS. 
 
 THE EIGHTEENTH BOOK OF THE 
 
 ADVENTURES OF TELEMACHUS.* 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH. 
 
 Dii, quibus imperium eft animarum, umbraeque filentes 
 Et Chaos et Phlegethon, 'loca necle tacentia late, 
 Sit mihi fas audita loqui : fit numine veftro 
 Pandere res alta terra et caligine merfas . 
 
 VIRGIL. 
 
 MEAN while Adraftus, with his vanquim'd crew, 
 Fierce from the field to Aulon's hill withdrew; 
 Securely fcreen'd behind its friendly height, 
 He waits frefh forces to renew the fight : 
 Warm glows his bofom to revenge the blow, 
 And rufli vindictive on the conquering foe: 
 f So when a famifh'd lion quits his prey, 
 Repuls'd, and flowly growling fralks away, 
 
 Fierce 
 
 * This was defign'd as a fpecimen of a tranfiation of the whole 
 work, from profecuting which, other and better employments pre- 
 vented. 
 
 } Homer and Virgil have both many fimilies from the retreat of 
 a lion, but I don't remember any that compares the hero to the 
 indignant favage in his den, to which nothing can be fuperior : In 
 the nth Iliad, v. 675. 
 
 Thus the grim lion his retreat maintains, 
 Befet with watchful dogs and fliouting fwains, 
 
 Repuls'd
 
 POEMS. 9 i 
 
 Fierce in his den the ground he roaring gnaws, 
 Sharpens his teeth, and furious whets his claws: 
 Keen as the lightning flafh his fiery eyes, 
 And the whole flock in bloody fancy dies. 
 
 And now UlyfTes' fon, who, pleas'd, furvey'd 
 Through all his camp confummate order fpread, 
 To execute that lov'd defign addreft, 
 Which fecret long had brooded in his breaft. 
 Hence fprung his cares ; long paft for many a night, 
 Each dream had brought his father to his fight : 
 Juft when the ftars before the dawn decay, 
 And o'er the hills Aurora leads the day, 
 Juft when foft fleep calls forth his fluttering train 
 Of dreams, and haftens to th' Elyfian plain : 
 Then ever rofe UlyiTes to his view, 
 At break of day, when dreams, they fay are true. 
 
 Repuls'd by numbers from the nightly flails, 
 Tho' rage impels him, and tho' hunger calls : 
 Long (lands the fhow'rinj darts and miflile fires, 
 Then fow'rly flow th 1 indignant beaft retires. 
 
 Porr. 
 
 An imitation of which is the following from the 9th ^Eneid, v. 1076. 
 As when, with tilted fpears, the clamorous train 
 Invade the brindled monarch of the plain j 
 The lordly favage from the fhouting foe, 
 Retires, majeflically flern, and flow: 
 Tho' fingly impotent the crowd to dare 
 Repel, or ftand their whole collected war, 
 Crirn he looks back, he rolls his glaring eye, 
 pefpaui to conquer, and difdains to fly. 
 
 PITT. 
 
 N 2 Naked
 
 92 POEMS. 
 
 Naked fometimes the hero he furvey'd, ~) 
 
 * In thofe bleft ifles for virtuous fouls decreed, r 
 
 Befide a rill which wanton'd thro' the mead : 
 While foftly-blu filing nymphs around him hafte, 
 And o'er his limbs the modeft mantle caft. 
 Now in a dome, where gold and ivory glow, 
 He fees him plac'd, and hears his language flow : 
 While crown'd with garlands fit the lift'ning throng, 
 Charm'd with the foft perfuafion of his tongue. 
 
 Whenever fleep the pious fon forfook, 
 Such dubious dreams his foul with terror fhook : 
 f Penfive reflecting thus he oft complain'd, 
 " What dreams molt dreadful could like thefe have pain'd? 
 " Too plain fuch fcenes of blifs the truth declare, 
 " No more my father breathes this vital air! 
 " To thofe bleft climes remov'd, where virtue's fons 
 " Heaven with eternal peace rewarding crowns : 
 " Thofe climes with thee methinks I travel o'er ! 
 " And oh how wretched 'tis to hope no more. 
 " Muft I then never hence behold thy face, 
 " Nor in thefe arms my tender fire embrace ? 
 " No more thy tongue's mellifluous wifdom hear, 
 " Nor to thy hands the filial kiffes bear? 
 " Thofe hands which never on the madding crew, 
 " The fuitor-train {hall pour the vengeance due ? 
 " To fame fhall Ithaca no more return, 
 " But droop in ruins and for ever mourn ? 
 
 * Devenere locos latos, et amoena Vireta 
 Fortunatorum nemorum, fedefque beatas. 
 
 VrRC. B. vi. v. 638. 
 J- Qna: me fufpenfam, infomnia tcrrent JEv. iv. 9.
 
 POEMS. 93 
 
 " Yes; the dread powers, whofe ceafelefs hate purfaei 
 The fire, thro' fuch viciffitude of woes, 
 To the fad fon thefe dreams of torture fend, 
 His life's fole comfort from his heart to rend, 
 Thence thence that fweet deluder, hope, to tear, 
 Life of our life, and foother of each care ! 
 * " Yet doubtful thus, 'tis anguifh to remain; 
 Why faid I doubtful, when the truth is plain? 
 Too fure my father treads the realms below; 
 And to thofe realms to find his ghoft I'll go: 
 
 * Oft fince he breath'd his laft, in dead of night 
 His reverend image flood before my fight : 
 Enjoin'd to feek below his holy fliade, 
 Conduced there by your unerring aid : 
 But you, if pious minds by pray'rs are won, 
 Oblige the father, and protect the fon : 
 Your's is the power j not Proferpine in vain 
 Has made you prieftefs of her nightly reign : 
 If Orpheus, arm'd with his inchanting lyre, 
 The ruthlefs king with pity could infpire ; 
 If from the fhades below redeem his wife : 
 If Pollux off'ring his alternate life, 
 Cou'd free his brother, and can daJy go 
 By turns aloft, by turns defcend below : 
 Why name I Thefeu?, or his greater friend, 
 Who trod the downward path, and upward cou'd afcend ! 
 Not lefs than theirs from Jove my lineage came, 
 My mother greater, my defcent the fame. 
 
 VIRC. yEn. by DRYD. B. vi, v. 170. 
 
 If
 
 94 POEMS. 
 
 " If impious Thefeus fafe thofe regions fought, ' 
 
 " His foul with injury to Pluto fraught: 
 
 Why ftiou'd a fon the dreary journey dread, 
 
 ' By love conducted, and by duty led? 
 
 ' The mighty Hercules defcended there: 
 
 ' And tho' not him, 'tis great like him to dare ! 
 
 ** Soft-plaining Orpheus fo fuccefsful prov'd, 
 
 " That ev'n the gloomy Monarch's foul he mov'd, 
 
 ' Inexorable held till back to life 
 
 " He to the tender hufband gave the wife j 
 
 " And fhall I then of like compaffion fear, 
 
 * When fo fuperior is the loft I bear ? 
 
 " 'Tis fixt to thofe dread regions will I fly, 
 " Prepar'd for death, if fate demands to die : 
 " (For why mould mortals fear the tyrants blow, 
 " Who daily groan beneath a weight of woe ?) 
 " And prove if pitilefs, as tales refound, 
 " The pow'rs, who rule the realms of night, are found ? 
 And, oh my father, tho' my fate denies 
 ' That thou on earth fhou'd'ft blefs thefe longing eyes : 
 " Yet it may chance permit thy fon to know 
 " Thy (hade now happy, in the realms below." 
 
 Speaking he wept, and weeping he arofe 
 The light to feek, and mitigate his woes : 
 In vain he fought, while ftill the torturing dart 
 That pierc'd, continued rankling in his heart : * 
 And 'midfl fuch anguilh he refolv'd to go 
 By Acherontia to the realms below : 
 'Twas near the camp : the name a gloomy cave 
 To Acheron's black banks conducting, gave : 
 
 * Kzrct lateri lethalis arundo. ^N. i*. 73-
 
 POEMS. 9) - 
 
 A ftream the deities themfelves revere, 
 
 An oath they dread, and tremble when they fwear. 
 
 * High on a rock was Acherontia plac'd, 
 
 As on the tow'ring oak an eagle's neft : 
 
 Beneath whofe feet the horrid cavern lay, 
 
 Whence trembling mortals turn'd with dread away: 
 
 Whence watchful fliepherds drove their fleecy care, 
 
 Pois'nous the ground, and tainted all the air : 
 
 For Styx her vapours through the paflage crouds, 
 
 Rolls flames on flames, and fulph'rous clouds on clouds: 
 
 There never zephyrs gently-breathing blow, 
 
 Nor herb nor flower around the cavern grow : 
 
 No autumns fmile, nor blooming fprings return ; 
 
 The parch'd ground languifhes, the meadows mourn : 
 
 O'er the dead profpeft ftretch the wearied eyes, 
 
 Where leaflefs fhrubs alone, or baneful cyprefs rife. 
 
 Vain ev'n at diftance Ceres' gifts to fhare 
 The labourers try : in vain the vineyards rear : 
 Their fullied ftreams the drooping Naiads mourn, 
 Black noxious waves diftilling from their urn : 
 
 * Deep was the cave, and downward as it went, 
 From the wide mouth a rocky rough defcent : 
 And here th' accefs a gloomy grove defends, 
 And there th 1 unnavigable lake extends : 
 O'er whofe unhappy waters, void of light, 
 No bird prefumes to fleer his airy flight : 
 Such deadly flenches from the depth arife, 
 And (learning fulphur, that infedls the fkies. 
 
 DRYDXN'S VIRG. B. vi. 1. 338. 
 
 There
 
 96 POEMS.; 
 
 * There no fweet warblers told the lift'ning grove, 
 (No grove was there) the ftory of their love : 
 Beneath a milder fky their loves they fung > 
 
 While here alone the raven's croaking tongue, [rung. C 
 And owl's more hideous fhriek thro* the drear defart J 
 Bitter the grafs, whereon the flocks that fed, 
 Nor wanton fkip'd, nor bleating chear'd the mead : 
 His curled front the bull dejected hung, 
 Nor with his amorous call the foreft rung : 
 Pipe, flute and love the languid fwains forbear, 
 Nor pipe, nor flute, nor Phillis pleafes here. 
 
 From this deftruftive cavern frequent came, 
 Mix'd with black fmoke and fulphur, living flame; 
 Whof3 horrid darknefs drove the fun away, 
 And brought night's terrors in the noon of day : 
 'Twas then the people to their altars flew, 
 And folemn pay'd the facrifices due. 
 Tho' thus fubmiflive, oft they ftrove in vain 
 To footh the tyrants of the infernal plain : 
 Who fond of blood, oft cruelly demand 
 The young the flower and glory of the land. 
 
 Thro' this drear cave Telemachus decreed 
 To find the gloomy manfions of the dead : 
 Pallas, whofe care the hero ftill attends, 
 Whofe ^Egis guards him, and whofe arm defends, 
 The chief to Pluto's favour recommends. 
 
 * Tune et peftiferi pacatum Limen averni 
 Innocui tranfiftxs aves : flatumque reprefiit 
 Amfanftus ; tacuit fixo torrente Vorago. 
 
 CLAUD. Rap, Prof. 1. H. v. 348. 
 
 And
 
 POEMS. 97 
 
 And mov'd by her requeft great Jove commands 
 * Hermes (who daily to grim Charon's hands 
 From realms above conveys the flitting train) 
 From the ftern king fafe paiTport to obtain ;' 
 Permiffion for Ulyfles' fon to tread, 
 His wide domain, the dwellings of the dead ! 
 
 Favour'd by night, Telemachus withdrew, 
 And from the camp unfeen, unnoted flew: 
 And as he mov'd by Luna's glittering light, 
 His prayers addreft that planet of the night; 
 Walking in brightnefs thro' the dufky fky, 
 f In heav'n, on earth, in hell a deity. 
 Pious his purpofe, and his heart fin cere, 
 With kind regard the goddefs heard his pray'r. 
 The cave approaching, in amaze he found, 
 t Trembling beneath his feet the bellowing ground : 
 All hell's dread clamours thro' the entrance roar'd, 
 And from the heav'ns red fire and lightning pour'd. 
 Aghaft the fon of bold Ulyfles flood; 
 Fear freez'd his limbs, and terror chill'd his blood : 
 Yet foon his virtue triumph'd: to the fkies 
 Speaking he rais'd his pious hands and eyes ; 
 
 " Great gods, thefe omens with delight I meet, 
 " Oh ftill be gracious, and your work compleat." 
 
 * This office of Hermes is too \vell known to need any pafTaget 
 from ancient authors to explain it they who think fit, may confult 
 Horace, B. i. Od. 10 and iii, u. and Virgil, B. iv. 242, &c. 
 
 f Tergeminamque Hecaten, tria Virginis ora Diana:. 
 
 V. 51 1. -En. 4. 
 
 J Sub pedibus mngire folum & j'-iga carpta moveri 
 
 Syl.arum VIRC. JEn. 6. 256. 
 
 O Thus
 
 9 3 POEMS. 
 
 Thus as he fpeaks, his foul new vigour proves, 
 And tow'rd the cave with double fpeed he moves. 
 When lo at once the gloomy entrance clear'd, 
 The thick fmoke flew, the darknefs difappear'd ; 
 No more around deflruftive vapours roll, 
 Nor pois'nous fmells ruih fick'ning on the foul : 
 Then unattended for who dares attend ? 
 Thro' the dread entrance view the chief defcend ! 
 Two trufty Cretans, who his purpofe knew, 
 Their friend's defcent at diftance trembling view; 
 And pour to heav'n thofe pray'rs they deem in vain, 
 For him they dare not hope to view again ! 
 
 * Mean while the hero wav'd his glitt'ring blade, 
 And pierc'd undaunted thro' the fightlefs made : 
 
 * So his father in the Odyfley on the fame occafion, B. ii. v. z8 
 and 6 1. 
 
 From the fcabbard drew his mining fword : 
 
 And 
 
 Swift wav'd his faukhion o'er the blood : 
 
 Back ftarted the pale throngs and trembling ftcod. 
 
 POPE. 
 And the/ybil in the 6th /Eneid fays, 
 
 Now, Trojan, take the way thy fates afford, 
 A flume thy courage, and unfheath thy fword. 
 She faid, and pafs'd along the gloomy fpace j 
 The prince purfued her fteps with equal pace. 
 
 DRTDIN, v. 370. 
 And again, v. 404. ./Eneas 
 
 Unflieath'd his fhining fteel, prepar'd, 
 
 Tho' feiz'd with fudden fear, to force the guard. 
 
 DfeYMX. 
 
 When
 
 POEMS. 99 
 
 When thro' its horror gleam'd a fainting light, 
 As fome dim beacon, 'midft the gloom of night: 
 He fees the fluttering ghofts around him glide, 
 Who, as he flafh'd his fword, forfook his fide. 
 Oblivious Lethe, whofe fad ftream rolls flow 
 In fluggifh courfe, next rifes to his view: 
 Whofe Banks departed fouls unnumber'd croud ; 
 Fruitlefs their prayers, no paflport here allow'd ; 
 On earth unbury'd fince their limbs remain, 
 Relentlefs Charon they befeech in vain : 
 Who intfantaneous grants, with furly grace* 
 The living Grecian in his boat a place. 
 
 Telemachus no fooner enters there, 
 Than melancholy plainings wound his ear: 
 A ghoft difconfolate bewail'd his woe, -* 
 
 Whofe caufe of grief the hero fought to know, 
 And who he was above, that felt fo much below. 3 
 
 " I once was Nabopharzan, he begun, 
 " The haughdeft king of haughty Babylon : 
 " The fpacious eaft all trembled at my name; 
 " And the world rung with Nabopharzan's fame. 
 " I will'd and lo a marble temple flood, 
 " Built by my fubjecls to their monarch god : 
 " My golden ftatue 'midft the temple rear'd, 
 " With all the pomp of worihip was rever'd: 
 " Perfumes inceflant on my altars blaz'd, 
 " And hymns and fongs divine the godhead prais'd. 
 
 " Who dar'd the pleafure of his king controul, 
 " Strait o'er him felt my fury's thunder roll : 
 " Ev'n thought was wearied new delight to find, 
 " To blefs my life, and diffipate my mind : 
 
 *A Oz " And
 
 loo POEMS. 
 
 " And in this ftate, with youth, with vigour bleftV 
 
 " Yet what felicities had I to tafte ? 
 
 " When a falfe woman, whom I fondly lov'd, 
 
 " The fancied god a wretched mortal prov'd ! 
 
 " She gave me poifon ; all my pomp I loft: 
 
 " My guilt alone accompanies my ghoft ! 
 
 " But now in folemn fhevv around my urn 
 " Withwell-feign'd grief my nattering fubjedls mourn : 
 " What tho' all figns of forrow they exprefs, 
 " None died lefs lov'd, and none lamented lefs ; 
 " My friends, my family already deem 
 " My memory difgrace, and hate my name : 
 " Here too already I begin to feel 
 " Foretafte of vengeance, and the pangs of hell." 
 
 Mov'd at the fight Ulyfies' fon began, 
 " Say, 'midft the honours of fo proud a reign ; 
 " Say, waft thou ever with contentment bleft 
 " Or did the Halcyon peace e'er brood within thy breaft ? 
 
 " I knew it not, the haplefs king rejoin'd, 
 " Nor ever felt that boafted peace of mind, 
 " Of which the fages tell : 'twas loft to me, 
 " On earth if really fuch a thing there be ! 
 " My heart was ruffled with inceflant cares, 
 " Toft midlt deures, vain hopes and jealous fears : 
 " My paflions ftill to agitate I fought, 
 " To kill refleftion, and to ftifle thought ! 
 " But reafon's calms were madnefs to my brain, 
 " And the leaft interval, an age of pain. 
 " Such was the peace, the pleafure J enjoy'd : 
 " All elfe feem'd folly; fable all befide." 
 
 Speaking he wept, his narrow foul too mean 
 Misfortunes with true courage to fuftain : 
 
 A3
 
 POEMS. 101 
 
 As abject in adverfity, as late 
 
 Proud and infulting in his profperous ftate. 
 
 Near him fome (laves obtain'd an equal place, 
 Murder'd on earth, his obfequies to grace : 
 Thefe with their prince to Charon Hermes brings, 
 Their fate reverfes, and makes them the kings: 
 To them all pow'r o'er Nabopharzan gave, 
 On earth their tyrant, and in hell their flave. 
 Now they revile " and were not we, they cry, 
 " Men, like thyfelf poor fallen deity ! 
 " How cou'd thy heart fuch impious pride conceive, 
 " Thyfelf a god, vain mortal, to believe!" 
 
 With taunting feoffs, then others thus began, 
 " Well did he judge to lay afide the man ; 
 " Void of humanity, he could not claim 
 " Ought human monlter and himfelf the fame!" 
 Another cries, " alas thy gifts are gone, 
 " And with thy power thy flatterers are flown ; 
 " Thou can'ft exert thy cruelties no more 
 " The flave of Haves; thy tyranny is o'er: 
 " Tho' heaven awhile delays th' impending blow, 
 " Sure falls the Itroke, and certain, tho' 'tis flow!" 
 
 At thefe reproaches, with keen anguifh preft, 
 The tyrant, proftrate on his heaving breaft, 
 Fierce gnafli'd his teeth, and frantic tore his hair, 
 And fliew'd a thoufand afts of mad defpair : 
 " Raife him, ye flaves, indignant Charon cries, 
 " Let hell behold and vindicate the fkies : 
 " Let every ghoft be witnefs to his woe, 
 " And view the horrors he receives below : 
 ' ' Abfolving heav'n, which upon earth to reign 
 " Allow'd a wretch fo worthlefs and prophane. 
 
 " And
 
 102 POEM S. 
 
 " And thou, oh impious Babylonian, know, 
 
 " Thefe, thefe are but beginnings of thy woe! 
 
 " Prepare before dread Minos to appear, 
 
 " Great judge of hell oh tremble and prepare !'* 
 
 Speaking, his boat the living hero bore 
 Acrofs the lazy lake to Pluto's more: 
 The thronging fpeftres crouded to the fight, 
 A living mortal 'midft the realms of night ! 
 But fcarce he lands or ere they fade away, 
 Like night's dark ihades before the face of day. 
 
 His brow lefs wrinkled, and lefs fierce his eyes, 
 Thus to the hero fmiling Charon cries, 
 " Since, favourite mortal, highly lov'd of heav'n, 
 " Thefe realms of darknefs to thine eyes are giv'n, 
 " Where mortals living are denied to tread, -\ 
 
 " Purfue thy way ; and thou wilt foon be led > 
 
 " To Pluto's throne, great monarch of the dead. J 
 " He will permit thee all his realms to trace, 
 " And view each wonder of this fecret place : 
 " Which 'tis nor mine to tell, nor mine to fhew : 
 " He will permit thee favour'd mortal, go!" 
 
 He fpoke ; with hafte the chief advanc'd along ; 
 While hovering ghofts on ghoits around him throng : 
 * Numerous as fands, befide the roaring main, 
 Or falling leaves, that ftrew th' autumnal plain : 
 
 And 
 
 * Ccnveniunt animae, quantas truculentior Aufier 
 Decunt arboribus frondes, aut nubibus imbres 
 Colligit, aut frangit fiu&us, aut tortjuet arenas. 
 
 CLAUDIAN Rap. Prof. 1 ii. v. 307. 
 
 Quam
 
 POEMS. 103 
 
 And near him as the filent fpe&res preft, 
 
 A dread divine o'eraw'd his throbbing breaft. 
 
 But when thro' all the dreary regions paft, 
 
 He came to Pluto's folemn court at laft, 
 
 An awful fear ran fhivering thro' his blood, 
 
 And his knees trembled as aghaft he flood : 
 
 Scarce from his lips thefe words diftinguiih'd broke, 
 
 His every accent faulter'd as he fpoke. 
 
 " Before thee, dreaded power, a fuppliant bends, 
 " Who to thy realms to feek his fire defcends : 
 " Oh fay, does earth the great UlyfTes know, 
 " Or wanders he a made 'midll fhades below ?" 
 
 * Encircled with the pomp of hell's dread ftate, 
 On throne of ebony grim Pluto fate : 
 
 Pale was his meagre vifage and fevere, 
 
 His brow was wrinkled with unceafmg care: 
 
 Flaming keen fire, his hollow eye-balls roll, 
 
 A living man was anguifh to his foul : 
 
 His whole attention Proferpine obtain'd, 
 
 Who fhar'd his throne, and o'er his empire reign'd : 
 
 Quam multa in fylvis autumni frigore primo 
 
 Lapfa cadunt folia VIRG. ALa. 6. v. 309. 
 
 * Claudian fpealcing of Pluto in his Rapt. Prof. 1. i. v. So, lays, 
 
 Jpfe rudi fultus folio nigraque verendus 
 Majeftate fedet : fqualent immania foedo 
 Sceptra fitu, fublime caput masftiffima nubcs 
 Afperat, & dira riget inclementia formz. 
 Terrorem Dolor augebat, tune talia celib 
 Ore tonat, tremefadla filent, dicente Tyrann 
 Atria i 
 
 She
 
 104 POEMS. 
 
 She his relentlefs bofom well cou'd move ; 
 Such charms has beauty, and fuch force has love ! 
 * Beneath the throne pale death devouring lay, 
 Whetting his fcythe, and planning future prey: 
 Around him fly black jealoufies and cares, 
 And fell defpair who her own body tears : 
 Roaring revenge with wounds all cover'd o'er, 
 And every wound diitilling ropy gore : 
 Hate ; pining avarice on herfelf who feeds ; 
 And envy, who at good of others bleeds ; 
 If impotent to hurt, (he raves, fhe fwells, 
 And her own corfe her vengeful fury feels : 
 Moon-ftruck ambition, that worft peft of kings, 
 Whofe madding rage confounds all earthly things: 
 Treafon that feeds on blood, yet ne'er can tafte 
 Secure, the horrors of fo fad a feaft : 
 Impiety, whofe hands the pit prepare, 
 Down which herfelf fhe plunges in defpair : 
 
 * This train is plac'd by Virgil, no', around the tbrpne of Pluto, 
 but, 
 
 Veftibulum ante ipfum primifque in faucibus orci, &c. 
 
 Juft in the gate, and in the jaws of hell, 
 
 Revengeful cares and fullen forrows dwell : 
 
 And pale difeafes and repining age, 
 
 Want, fear and famine's unrefifted rage. 
 
 Here toils, and death, and death's half-brother deep, 
 
 Forms terrible to view, their centry keep : 
 
 With anxious pleafures of a guilty mind, 
 
 Deep frauds before, and open foiee behind. 
 
 DRYD. vi. Jn. v. 383. 
 
 See Spenfer's Fairy Queen, B. i, C. vii. f. ai. where there is a 
 mo,1 noble description of this infernal crew. 
 
 Dire
 
 POEMS. 105 
 
 Dire fpedtres, hideous ghofts and phantoms dread, 
 
 To fright the living, who aflume the dead : 
 
 Dreams of diftrefs, and watchings as fevere, 
 
 And every woe and every pain was here. 
 
 In dreadful Ihew the monfters prefs along, 
 
 The throne encircle, and the palace throng. 
 
 When thus the monarch fpoke ; while all around 
 
 Hell's hollow deep return'd the thund'ring found : 
 
 " Young mortal, fate has forc'd thee to prophane 
 
 " Thefe facred regions where the dead remain : 
 
 " Follow thy fate : but whether earth or hell 
 
 " Contains thy father Pluto will not tell : 
 
 " Since upon earth a king, be firft furvey'd 
 
 " That part of Tartarus where kings are laid, 
 
 " Whofe crimes incur the punifhment they fhare: 
 
 " And next th' Elyfian fields demand thy care, 
 
 *' Where pious princes due rewards receive: 
 
 " Trace thefe: fly hence: and ftrait my confines leave." 
 
 Forthwith the hero, with an anxious hafte, 
 Thro' thofe vart, void, and boundlefs fpaces paft : 
 Impatient from the tyrant to remove, 
 Below fo dreaded, and fo fear'd above : 
 Impatient from his mind his doubts to drive, 
 And know, if yet his father were alive. 
 
 Soon to the banks of Tartarus he came, 
 Where rofe black fmoke from dreams of living flame : 
 Whofe flench to earth, if haply reaching, brings 
 Immediate death to all terreftrial things : 
 With hideous noife the fiery ftreams defcend, 
 And the ftunn'd ear with loud confufion rend, 
 As the red cataracts thunder down the fteep, 
 And flaming fall amidft th' unbottom'd deep. 
 
 P Undaunted
 
 io6 P O E M S< 
 
 Undaunted through the gulph Ulyfles' fon, 
 Encourag'd by Minerva, haftens on : 
 * At firft a crowd of wretches rofe to view, 
 Who, poor 'midft wealth, on earth no pleafures knew j 
 But rapine, fraud and cruelty employ'd 
 To gain that Mammon which they ne'er enjoy'd ; 
 On earth their conftant thought, their conftant care, 
 And their eternal condemnation here ! 
 
 f Numbers of hypocrites, in thefe abodes, 
 The curfe of mortals, and the hate of gods, 
 He faw religion's fpecious garb who wore, 
 To cloak their crimes, and gild their vices o'er: 
 To god-born virtue who the lye had giv'n, 
 And not abus'd mankind alone, but heav'n : 
 Thefe 'midft the damn'd fevereft fufferings find, 
 As the moll mean, and abjeSl of mankind : 
 
 * Hie quibus invifi fatres, dum vita mancbat, 
 Pulfatufve parens, aut f:aus innexa client! : 
 Aut qui <jivi iis foli incubuere repertis, 
 Nee partem pofuere fuis, quae maxima turba eft. 
 Quique ob adulterium casfi, quique arma fecuti 
 Impia nee veriti dominorjm faliere dextras, 
 Inclufi pcenam exfpeclant /En. 1. 6. 6oS. 
 
 ( For neither man nor angel can difcera 
 Hypocrify, the only evil that walks 
 Invifible, except <:o God lone ; 
 By his permifiive will, thro' heav'n and earth : 
 And oft though vvifdom wake*, fufpicion flceps 
 At wifdom's gate, and to fimplicity 
 Refigns her charge, while goodnefs thinks no ill 
 
 Where no ill feems MUTON, B. -3. 68z. 
 
 Children,
 
 POEMS. 107 
 
 Children, whofe impious hands their parents flew, 
 
 Wives whofe fell hate the blood of hufoands drew : 
 
 * Traitors, who perjury's black guilt defpis'd, 
 
 And folemnly their country facrific'd : 
 
 All as lefs guilty, lefs feverely feel 
 
 The torturing horrors of avenging hell ! 
 
 And juft the fentence, righteous the decrees, 
 
 By the infernal judges pail on thefe; 
 
 Since to be wicked not enough they deem, 
 
 Unlike the wicked, they would virtuous feem : 
 
 And while deceiving in fair virtue's fnew, 
 
 They render virtue's felf fufpecled too. 
 
 On thefe the gods, whofe pow'r they mocking fcorn'd, 
 
 The fulleil vials of their wrath return 'd ! 
 
 Near thefe another fort of mortal lie, 
 Whofe crimes are venial in the vulgar eye ; 
 Whom yet the gods with mercy never view, 
 But with inexorable wrath purfue. 
 Thefe are th' ungrateful, liars, flattery's throng, 
 For vice who dar'd to proftitute their tongue ; 
 Malicious cenfurers, who joy to fpread 
 O'er virtue's living light a baleful made : 
 And all who, urg'd by inconfiderate hafte, 
 Raflily on things pernicious fentence paft ; 
 And thence the fons of fpotlefs merit ftain'd, 
 And the fair fame of innocence profan'd ! 
 
 But no ingratitude was punifa'd here, 
 With wrath more hot, and vengeance more fevere, 
 
 * Vendidit hie auro patriam, dominumque potentem, 
 Iinpofuit, fixit !c;cs. pretio atqv;e renxit. 
 
 4?iN. 6. 62 T. 
 
 P z Than
 
 io8 POEMS. 
 
 Than that againft the rulers of the Ikies 
 
 " What, fhall a man the righteous Minos cries, 
 
 " A very monfter 'midfl mankind be held, 
 
 " Who to his friend in gratitude has fail'd ; 
 
 " Whofe greateft favours are but light to tliofe 
 
 " The bounteous hand of providence beftows : 
 
 " And unchaftiz'd fhall thanklefs men defy 
 
 *' The pow'r and righteous juflice of the fky; 
 
 " When life, health, all things from its goodnefs flow, 
 
 " Andlefs their parents, than the gods they owe. 3 
 
 " The more on earth they triumph, more fevere 
 
 " Is the fure vengeance which awaits them here : 
 
 " Their guilt muft wrath unutterable prove, 
 
 " And greatly vindicate the powers above." 
 
 As in full ftate Telemachus furvey'd 
 The three impartial judges of the dead; 
 While they gave fentence on a wretch diftreft, 
 To know his crimes the hero made requeft : 
 Quick for himfelf the criminal began, 
 " Behold a guiltlefs, unoffending man! 
 " Who yet no evil knew, no crimes purfu'd, 
 " Whofe greateft blifs was plac'd in doing good : 
 " My deeds were generous, and from guilt fecure, 
 " Juft all my dealings, and my confcience pure ; 
 " No charge my fpotlefs innocence can fear ! 
 " Why thus arraign'd, then guiltlefs, fland I here ?" 
 
 " Nothing, Oman, dread Minos cries, we find, 
 " Deficient in thy duty, toward mankind! 
 " Fool uot to know, that lefs to man He ow'd, 
 " Than to each bleffing, but neglefted, God ! 
 " Knew'ft thou not all the virtue that was thine 
 " Flow'd down a prefent from the pow'rs divine ? 
 
 " Why
 
 POEMS. 109 
 
 (t Why then from man fo fedulous to claim, 
 
 " From man vain nothing, felf-approving fame ? 
 
 " And in thyfelf, ah ! why fo mad to place, 
 
 " All as thy own, each heav'n-defcended grace ? 
 
 ' Mocking the righteous rulers of the fky, 
 
 " Thyfelf, vain man, thy own divinity ! 
 
 " They, whofe are all things, and who all things know, 
 " Cannot be cheated, or their right forego : 
 *' Since heav'n forgetting, thou'rt forgot of heav'n, 
 " And to thy darling felf for ever giv'n ! 
 " For never real can that virtue prove, 
 ' Which is not founded in celeilial love! 
 
 " Blind or to good or evil roams the throng, 
 " Vain in themfelves who center right and wrong; 
 " And vice and virtue with indifference blend, 
 " Of each the telt their interefts, and the end ! 
 " Here, blazing bright, upon their follies flows 
 " The light divine, and all their errors fliows: 
 " Which oft condemns what they too vainly prize. 
 " And, what they madly ccnfure, juftines." 
 
 Struck with thefe founds, fo folemn and fevere, 
 No more the wretch his late lov'd felf cou'd bear : 
 With fond complacency he views no more 
 His every virtue, fo admir'd before ! 
 Wild thro' his breaft defpair tormenting flies, ^ 
 
 And his own heart is anguiih to his eyes, > 
 
 Th* avenger, as before, the fcorner of the fkies. 3 
 Now he beholds the folly of that fame, 
 With whole intent he ftrove from man to claim. 
 Chang'd, wholly chang'd, his confcience loud upbraids, 
 And on his mind remorfe and anguifh feeds : 
 
 Con-
 
 no POEMS. 
 
 Condemning rife his virtues to his view, 
 
 And mame leads on the late delufive crew. 
 
 Ev'n the fell furies leave the wretch alone, 
 
 And deem their pangs inferior to his own ! 
 
 Since from his hated felf he ne'er can run, 
 
 The fearch of others he attempts to Ihun : 
 
 And hides him in fequefter'd gloomy (hades ; 
 
 But piercing light the thickeft gloom invades: 
 
 Bright truth revengeful, with her piercing rays> 
 
 Glows on his guilt, and all his heart difplays. 
 
 Whate'er he lov'd, with torturing pain he views* 
 
 As the dire fource of his eternal woes. 
 
 " Fool that I am, upbraiding oft he cried, 
 
 " My wifdom folly, and my virtue pride : 
 
 " Nor men, nor gods, nor ev'n myfelf I knew, 
 
 " Ignorant of all things, as of all things true I 
 
 " Fruitlefs I pac'd o'er error's mazy road, 
 
 " And mifs'd the pathway to fubftantial good ; 
 
 " Myfelf my idol 'twas prefumption all 
 
 " * Juft are the gods and merited my fall ! " 
 
 f At length thofe monarchs in this dread abode 
 View'd the young chief, and trembled as he view'd, 
 Who for abufe of pow'r in upper air, 
 Repent in pangs, and groan in tortures here : 
 Fierce on one hand a vengeful fury ycll'd, 
 And to their eyes a magic mirror held ; 
 Where in their full deformity was feen 
 Of all their vices the long loathfome train : 
 
 * Difcite Juftitiam moniti, et non temnere Divos. 
 
 f See Spender's FAIRY Qurrx, D. i. c. v. S. 46, &c. 
 
 There
 
 POEMS. in 
 
 There faw they there, unwilling, "forc'd to fee 
 
 The fulfome form of that proud vanity, 
 
 Which late exalting fwell'd each haughty breaft, 
 
 And ga-'/e to grofTeft flattery its zefl. 
 
 There, in the tell-truth mirror they efpied 
 
 Their floth, their mifplac'd jealoufy and pride ; 
 
 Their difregard to virtue's golden lore, 
 
 Their pageant pomp, which made their people poor: 
 
 Their dread the voice of honeft truth to hear, 
 
 For fools their love, for flatterers their care : 
 
 Their dire hard-heartednefs to men, alone 
 
 When born for men, or born to mount a throne. 
 
 Their toils to gratify each meaner fenfe, 
 
 To nobler deeds their female indolence : 
 
 Their mad ambition falfe renown to gain 
 
 Thro' feas of blood, and hills of fubjefts flain : 
 
 And all their cruelties, which conftant roll 
 
 In fearch of joys to lull the wounded foul, 
 
 And drown the calls of confcience, 'midft the cries 
 
 Of weeping wretches, and of fufferers fighs. 
 
 Here, as themfelves inceflant they furvey'd, 
 
 How monftrous was the fight, the fcene how dread! 
 
 Not fo deform'd the dire chimera's view, 
 
 Or the fell Hydra which Alcides flew ; 
 
 Nor Cerberus himfelf, tho' ropy gore 
 
 His wide three-gaping throats difgorging pour, 
 
 Poifonous and black, and capable to bring 
 
 All hell's inhabitants to glut his king. 
 
 On t'other fide a fecond fury flood, -\ 
 
 From whom, infulting, thofe encomiums flow'd, C 
 Which while alive their flatterer's beftow'd. 3 
 
 She
 
 ii2 POEM 3. 
 
 She plac'd another 'mirror to their eyes, 
 Where, as by flattery feign'd, their forms arife : 
 Contrails fo dread they tremble to abide, 
 And curfe their own mad vanity and pride. 
 
 Thofe kings on earth with fulleft praifes crown'd, 
 Were here moft wanting and moft wicked found: 
 And juftly fo: for tyranny's bold brood 
 Lives far more dreaded than the juft and good : 
 And fhamelefs from the flatterers of their times 
 Drag loud harangues, and truth-dilhonouring rhymes; 
 Thro' the dire darknefs, where no ray was feen, 
 Save but to mew the fierce infalting train, 
 Their groans rife dreadful, and their tortures found, 
 And anguifh echoes thro* the vafh profound. 
 And as on earth with human lives they play'd, 
 And for themfelves pretended all things made ; 
 Now their own flaves their tyrants do they fee, 
 Nor entertain one hope of being free: 
 Fierce from the flaves each lafh vindictive flows, 
 Groaning they lie, and fruitlefs wou'd oppofe. 
 So the refounding anvils ftill receive 
 Each blow the cyclops' ponderous hammers give, 
 To work when haften'd by their limping fire ; 
 Each furnace glows, and JEtna. feems on fire. 
 
 Here many a wretch Telemachus furvey'd, 
 With lowering looks, pale, hideous, and difmay'd ; 
 Whofe outward horrors from their inward fprings, 
 From confcience, and the foul's corrolive flings : 
 Themfelves, themfelves in vain they fought to fly, 
 The more they fhun, the torture feems more nigh : 
 Nor for their crimes a punifhment more dread, 
 Than their own crimes, (elf-torturing do they need ; 
 
 Before
 
 POEMS. 113 
 
 Before their eyes in fulleft pomp they glare, 
 And in each aggravating form appear : 
 Not lefs terrific to the troubled fight 
 Stalk horrid fpedres thro' the gloom of night. 
 The vengeful throng the frighted mifcreants fly, -\ 
 And long, to fhun their pow'r, again to die- 
 Fate bids them fuffer and the gods deny.* J 
 
 How oft in vain they wifh'd, amidft defpair, 
 Annihilation's dreadful boon to mare ! 
 How oft they call'd upon the deafen'd tide, 
 From truth in its abyfs their guilt to hide; 
 From truth whofe luftre, dazzling all their views, 
 Avenging fhines, and beaming bright purfues : 
 Referv'd for everlafting wrath they lie, 
 Which drop by drop diftils, and never will be dry ! 
 That truth they fear'd, their punifliment is made, 
 And, long unfeen, becomes their peft, furvey'd 1 
 Like Jove's blue lightnings blazing thro' the fky, 
 Which pafs the outward parts regardlefs by, 
 And to a nobler prey direft their road, 
 To the warm bowels, and to life's abode. 
 
 As metals in the furnace'-flames decay, 
 And unconfum'd, diffolving melt away: 
 So melt their fouls in this avenging flame, 
 Deftroy'd its texture, yet each fenfe the fame. 
 Torn from themfelves perpetual terrors reign, 
 Nor eafe, nor comfort can they ever gain: 
 Mad rage, and wild defpair, and home-bred flrife, 
 'Serve only to fupport their wretched life. 
 
 * Quam vellent, &c. 
 
 Fs obflat, &c. /En. I. 6. 
 
 Q Amidft
 
 ii4 P O E M S. 
 
 Amidft tbefe fights, which chill'd the hero's blood, 
 And every hair erefted, as he view'd, 
 Various of Lydia's kings he faw, who prove 
 Pangs for the luxury they indulg'd above : 
 Who, deaf to glory, and the trump of fame, 
 And all thofe godlike labours empires claim, 
 Deaf to their people's good, and country's blifs, 
 Lay drown'd in joy, and heart-enfeebling eafe : 
 And onfmooth pleafure's lazy couch reclin'd, 
 Lull'd in foft indolence the nobler mind. 
 
 From every mouth reproaches loudly flew, 
 And each at other taunts upbraiding threw : 
 The tortur'd fire thus thunder'd to his fon, 
 " Did I not warn thee, ere I left the throne; 
 ' ' Did I not warn thee, when the grave in view, 
 " Full in my face my crimes upbraiding flew; 
 " From all my errors, and my ills to run, 
 " My tyranny and cruelties to fhun?" 
 
 " Ah let me curfe, the wretched fon replied, 
 " Thy cruelty, luft, arrogance and pride : 
 " My ruin from thy dire example date, 
 *' Thy crimes my doom, thy tyranny my fate i 
 " I faw thee in enervate pleafures drown'd, 
 " And with bafe fycophants encompafs'd round: 
 " Hence fond of pleafure like thyfelf I grew, 
 " And hence, like thee, encourag'd flattery's crew ; 
 " Caught by their lures, and fwelling in my mind, 
 " I look'd with low contempt on all mankind: 
 " Beneath me all mere beafts of burthen deem'd, 
 " No more, than ferving to our ufe, efleem'd. 
 
 ' Suck,
 
 POEMS. 115 
 
 tf Such the bafe tenets thy example taught, -\ 
 
 " By vvhofe fuperior influence madly caught, 
 
 *' To this diftrefs thy tortur'd fon is brought !" 3 
 
 Reproaching thus, alternate they went on, 
 The fon his fire, the fire curft his fon ; 
 And now with phrenzy mad for fight prepare, 
 Howl, rend, and groan like furiee in defpair. 
 
 Hovering around thefe wretched monarch's fight, 
 Like boding fcreech-owls in the gloom of night ; 
 Throng dread fufpicions, diffidences vain, 
 And falfe alarms, the peft of each inhuman reign! 
 Jnfatiate thirft of gold's deftruclive good, 
 Falfe glory, wading thro' a fea of blood : 
 And vile effeminacy, which deftroys 
 All folid pleafures, and fubftantial joys ! . 
 
 Nor punifh'd were thofe impious kings alone, 
 For all the evils they themfelves had done; 
 Omiffions too of good were cenfur'd here, 
 As crimes deferving wrath no lefs fevere : 
 The feveral vices in their realms that reign'd, 
 Which from the fleeping laws protection gain'd, 
 Were all imputed to the fceptred throng, 
 From whom neglect, and want of fandtion fprung. 
 
 But above all, thofe kings blood-thirfty found 
 Rigour moft dire, and horror moft profound ; 
 Who o'er their people, with a fhepherd's pain, 
 Nor watch'd, nor careful fed the fubjeft train: 
 But like rapacious Wolves their flocks deftroy'd, 
 And the wide ruin of their folds enjoy'd ! 
 
 But that which troubled moft the Hero's thought, 
 And moft companion in his bofom wrought, 
 
 Q 2 Was
 
 ii6 POEMS, 
 
 Was to behold in this abyfs confin'd 
 A number deem'd good kings among mankind ; 
 But now condemn'd to Tartarus and pain, 
 For fuffering o'er them wicked Men to reign : 
 Here all thofe crimes their Minifters had done, 
 Were charg'd and punifh'd as the princes' own. 
 Moft of this wretched fubj eft-ridden train, 
 To vice or virtue had indifferent been ; 
 Great was their weaknefs : never did they dread 
 Their lives in ignorance of the truth to lead ; 
 Nor ever relim for true virtue fhew'd, 
 Or plac'd their happinefs in doing good ! 
 
 Oftob. 1750. 
 
 TO
 
 POEMS. 1 1? 
 
 TO MR. J. , ON THE REPORT OF 
 
 MISS , 's MARRIAGE. 
 
 Ah mifer 
 
 Quanta laboras in charybdi 
 
 Digne paer meliori fiamma. HOR. 
 
 WHEN firft the foul has caught the gentle fire, 
 And the breaft glows with Love and warm deiire: 
 How hard the talk, what labours muft we prove, 
 To tell our own, and win the fair one's love ! 
 What doubts, what fears, difdain and anguilh try, 
 How falfely flatter, and how really figh ! 
 
 But now fuppofe the gentle charmer views 
 Our pains relenting, and relieves our woes ; 
 With mutual flame foft burns her pitying breaft, 
 And each of mutual paflion feems pofleft. 
 Then the warm youth wou'd foar to higher joy ; 
 Pleads his fond flame, and claims the nuptial tye: 
 Jn vain he pleads the wayward virgin fighs, 
 And what (he fondly wifhes, coy denies ; 
 By fome fell chance the haplefs lovers part, 
 Tear foul from foul, and ravilh heart from heart : 
 Then Cupid frowns, dread abfence gloomy reigns, 
 O'er their fad fouls diftilling jealous pains : 
 Cenfure's at hand ; another lover's near 
 Ah ceafe; Almonzo's torment all is there : 
 Too cruel fair ah ! why thus caufe his woe, 
 Stop therafh vow his tender flame you know: 
 Falfe to his love, why blefs another's arms ? 
 Like him none doat on, or defcrvc your charms. 
 
 " T09
 
 ri8 POEMS. 
 
 " Too late advis'd." the penfive lover faid, 
 As mournful on his Witham's banks he ftray'd, 
 Defpair his looks, the profpeft fpoke defpair ; 
 Fens, fands, and feas ! fad emblems of his care ! 
 Yes, Emma,* yes, by that dear pleafing name, 
 (Oh falfcly yours, for fix'd was Emma's flame) 
 By that I fwear, had you like her been true, 
 *' With joy I'd liv'd a banifh'd man for you : 
 Flown each gay pleafure, every joy denied^ 
 Firm to my fair, and conf-ant at her fide. 
 ' Thus then is all my tender flame repay'd, 
 " Oh art thou, art thou, too hard-hearted maid ; 
 *' And art thou loft for ever to my arms, 
 " Gone, ever gone ; Amyntas has thy charms ! 
 Aid me, defpair, here every paffion move, 
 " To wreak revenge on difappointed love : 
 '* Vain thought! fhe fmiles infulting o'er my pain, 
 " And in my rival's arms exults, my vengeance vain ! 
 
 " Oh Emma, think, and when that thought fhall rife 
 " Can you fecurely tafte your fancied joys ? 
 ' Think of thofe fcenes where oft we fondly ftray'd, 
 " While tales of love the ling'ring fun delay 'd : 
 " Think of thofe flow'ry meads, and filent groves, 
 " Where oft, fo oft we whifper'd out our loves : 
 " Where oft we heard the feather'd fongfter's lay, 
 " Our lives as fweet, and we as bleft as they. 
 " Nor cou'd bleak winter's froft, or envious fnow, 
 " Cool our warm breafts 'twas ever fpring with you > 
 
 * The lady always wrote under the name of ZMM A. See Pr'.or't 
 Nut brown Maid. 
 
 Your
 
 POEMS. 119 
 
 Your tender form defy'd the nipping blaft, 
 " Kind thought did you with me tco fummer tafle I 
 " But what are groves or IT ?ads, or fnow or froil ? 
 *' Thefe arc forgot, and you are ever loft. 
 
 " Bleft with content, to rural eafe inclin'd, 
 " For thee I rous'd, for thee the crowd I join'd ; 
 " Pleas'd, every tempeft, every ftorm to prove, 
 " To crown my labours, and to win my love : 
 " To blefs my fair, and round her feet to throw, 
 " The hard-earn'd produce of my profperous woe. 
 " To make thee fliarer of my happier fate, 
 *' I wiih'd alone and ftruggled to i>e great: 
 " But what avails it that fuccefs was mine, 
 " That rich with plenty all my vallies fliine : 
 " That o'er my hills, my flocks in thoufands ftray, 
 " Ah ! what are thefe when Emma is away ? 
 * Plenty and flocks, with tranfport I'd refign, 
 " Too late had lovely Emma been but mine ! 
 
 <f What is my crime . ? I never fmn'd in thought, 
 " Love, too much love, falfe fair, is all my fault, 
 ". For this, neglected forrowingand alone, 
 " Fruitlefs I figh, and unregarded moan, 
 " Emblem of me on that lone rock confin'd, 
 " Behold yon guiltlefs failor left behind ; 
 " With tortur'd ken the gallant (hip he fees 
 " Plough the calm main, and triumph in the breeze ; . 
 ** The crew exulting towards their haven hie, 
 " While he is left alone, to pine, defpair and die." 
 Thus, to the wind the fad Almonzo raves, 
 And tells his anguifh to unheeding waves : 
 When bleak defpair's drear manfion ftruck his view, 
 Where wild with woe, the wretched lover flew. 
 
 'Midft
 
 120 POEMS. 
 
 'Midfl bogs and lakes expos'd the ruin flood, 
 The winds howl'd round, the atmofphere a cloud j 
 Acrofs a black deep lake a plank was laid, 
 The only entrance to the gloomy (hade ; 
 Females in crowds, who fruitlefs long had figh'd 
 For wedlock's bonds, and joys thofe bonds fupplied, 
 Wrinkled with care, with frowns and crofles bleak^ 
 In this drear dome their lafl fa.d refpite feek : 
 The queen with tranfport views the ghaftly train, 
 Grins horrid fmiles, and triumphs 'midft felf-pain i 
 Arms with foul fpight, ill-nature, and defpair, 
 And leagues thefe fuhjefts 'gainfl her foes, the fair., 
 
 A'maz'd and mufing at the dreary fcene, 
 Almonzo flood, and reafon caught the rein : 
 " Emma was fair, and fraught' with every grace - 
 " Grows not an Emma in fome happier place? 
 " Then, fuch a pleafing fyinpathy of mind : 
 " Yet flill fome fair may prove as fondly kind. 
 " Emma alone feem'd form'4 to blefs my flame; 
 " But, when inconftant Emma's not the fame. 
 " Then, nymph, adieu; and tho' my foul mufl own, 
 " Of all I cdu'd have lov'd but thee alone ; 
 " Cupid will aid, and jbon that god will find, 
 " If not one fair as thee, more conftant one and kind.'* 
 
 Quick from defpair Almonzo fmiling flies, 
 Forgets his anguifh, and difpels his fighs ; 
 The fhining belles explores, who round him move, 
 Catches a happier flame, and burns anew with love ! 
 
 ODES
 
 POEMS. 2 
 
 ODESOF PINDAR.* 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK. 
 THE FOURTH OLYMPIC ODE. 
 
 STROPHE I. 
 
 GREAT Jove, whofe thunder thre' the fkfes 
 With force and fpeed unwearied flies : 
 For 'tis to Jove the hours belong, 
 
 Which roll around the mighty days, 
 Thefe days that claim the founding fong, 
 
 Sacred to Pfaumis' deathlefs praife : 
 Immortal are the hero's deeds ; 
 And when a friend's brave toil fucceeds. 
 The tale great fouls with joy receive, 
 And due encomiums gladly give. . 
 
 Thou then, great Saturn's greater fon, 
 On JEtna. who haft fix'd ftiy throne ; 
 Where, hundred-headed Typhon preft, 
 Groans, the hot mountain on his breaft: 
 The choral hymns, whofa varied lays 
 Sing the olympic viftox's praife. 
 And give to virtue, nobly bright, 
 Eternal luftre, life and light ; 
 Aufpicious hear, for Pfaumis' fake; 
 They want not Grace, his fame they fpeak. 
 
 * Thefe odes are net tranflated by Mr. We 3. 
 
 R A N T I
 
 121 P O E M S. 
 
 AKTISTROPHE I. 
 
 Lo ! in his car they crofs the plains, 
 Where, crown'd with olive, he obtains 
 
 Oh Camarina, for thy ftate 
 Immortal honours, deathlefs fame ! 
 
 Still, Hill, propitious, kindly fate, 
 In all be his fuccefs the fame ! 
 For well I know him wife and good, 
 Skill'd to train up the courfer's brood : 
 Nor does of friends a narrow round 
 His hofpitable kindnefs bound ; 
 Wide his benevolence extends, 
 And all mankind are ftyl'd his friends : 
 And where, of all the patriot train, 
 His country's glory's to maintain, 
 Where will another chief appear, 
 With heart fo warm, and foul fo clear ? 
 Truth fpeaks ; the mufe's facred verfe 
 Difdains falfe praifes to rehearfe ; 
 Experience proves the truth fhe fings, 
 At once the teft of men and things. 
 
 E p o D E. 
 
 By this the taunts of Lemnos* haughty dames 
 The warlike fon of Clymenus difprov'd ; 
 
 Who, when contending at the glorious games, 
 Swift to the goal before his peers he mov'd, 
 
 Panting,
 
 POEMS. 123 
 
 Panting, as he claim'd the crown, 
 
 To Thoas' daughter thus begun : 
 Behold the man whofe untried fpeed you fcorn'd, 
 Till by that fpeed victorious he return'd : 
 And know, this hand can equal deeds perform, 
 And know, with equal fire this heart is warm : 
 Grey hairs may oft the youthful head beftrew, 
 But grace they add, and wifdom to the brow." * 
 
 * See the fcholiaft on the place. 
 
 R 2 THE
 
 i>4 POEMS. 
 
 THE SIXTH OLYMPIC ODE. 
 STROPHE I. 
 
 WHOSE ample foul a glorious fabric rears, 
 Firft to the gorgeous front direfts his care : 
 Nor art, nor colt, nor gold, nor fculpture fpares, 
 To give the portico the nobleft air: 
 
 That thence the eye enlarg'd, his fplendid dome 
 May raptur'd with ideal wonder roam. 
 So, mufe, preparing deathlefs fongs to found 
 
 On themes, which well thofe deathlefs fongs may claim, 
 With grandeft grace be our beginning crown'd, 
 Be from the firft bright fpark conceiv'd the flame ! 
 Were there a man whofe happy lot beftow'd 
 In rich Sicilia's plains a fair abode ; 
 Who (hone at glorious Pifa doubly bleft, 
 Th' Olympic viftor, and the thunderer's prieft : 
 Untouch'd by envy's hate or flander's tongue, 
 How juft were fame like his, how form'd fuch fame for 
 fbng! 
 
 ANTISTR.OPHE I. 
 
 Such fame, great fon of Softratus, is thine, 
 
 And lo, my mufe, that hero is thy theme : - 
 Virtue unexercifed can never fhine, 
 
 It tempts no dangers, and mail find no fame : 
 Bat who ; like thee, Agefias, dare be great. 
 Shall ftiare thy glory, and enjoy thy fate I 
 
 Of
 
 POEMS-, 125 
 
 Of right to thee that eulogy belongs, 
 
 Which brave Adraftus to the prophet gave 
 
 Whom Jove belov'd ; and, to preferve from wrongs, 
 Commanded earth \vide-gaping to receive : 
 
 His friend's lov'd corfe Adraftus fought in vain 
 
 At Thebes' feven-fold funeral to obtain ; 
 
 And therefore thus with praife embalm'd the dead; 
 
 " Where is my light, my guide, my glory fled? 
 
 " Alas, my foldiers, how our lofs I moan, 
 
 " The wifeft prophet dead, the bravelt warrior gone '." 
 
 .;.:. E P o D E I. 
 
 Such, mighty hero of my lays, 
 Such are thy gifts, and fuch thy praife ! 
 I fcorn the forms of mean difpute, 
 I fcorn to cavil and confute: 
 All end of Itrife this oath ihall bring. 
 Dread witnefs to the truths I fiug ; 
 I fwear thefe gifts of right to thee belong, 
 And every mufe permits the oath, and all confirm the 
 fong. 
 
 STROPHE II. 
 
 Come then, my foul, bright charioteer, 
 The mules, victorious to the car 
 Join quick, that while we crofs the ptairt, 
 Our labour's fummit we may gain : 
 And all triumphant mount the place, 
 Where fliine the hero's god-bom race : 
 
 To
 
 iz6 POEMS. 
 
 To his and their immortal fame, 
 The road no couriers know like them : 
 1 hat road they trod, when late they won, 
 At Pifa's race, the glorious crown : 
 
 Lift up your heads ye gates for thefe : your heads 
 triumphant raife ; [praife ! 
 
 That they may trace the fpacious plain of great Agefiai' 
 
 H E II. 
 
 Strait then to fair Eurotas' flood, 
 
 We'll fvvtep along the founding road. 
 
 Fair Pitana Eurotas bore 
 
 Saturnian Neptune's paramour. 
 
 He, as immortal tales declare, 
 
 With bright Evadne fill'd the fair: 
 
 Her ftolen joys the maid conceal'd 
 
 Till the great months were all fulfilPd ; 
 
 In fecret then a mother made, 
 
 Her babe me privately convey'd 
 To ^Epytus, Arcadia's king, its fofter-fire to prove: 
 Where Phcebus pluck'd her virgin lofe, and taught 
 Evadne love ! 
 
 E P o D E II. 
 
 From yEpytus in vain me ftrove 
 To hide the produce of her love : 
 His foul with rage and anguifh fraught, 
 The Pythian god the monarch fought ; 
 There to diflodge his mighty rrief, 
 And from Apollo find relief. 
 
 While
 
 POEMS. 127 
 
 While {he unloos'd her various- colour'd zone, 
 And in a fecret grove brought forth a foul-enlighten'd 
 fon ! 
 
 STROPHE III. 
 
 Hecate and the fates confenting 
 
 To Apollo's fond requelt, 
 All the mother's pangs preventing, 
 
 With the darling offspring blefs'd. 
 But her heart deep anguifh tearing, 
 
 Virtue's blooming blofTom gone; 
 1 hence fhe flew, dete&ion fearing, 
 
 On the ground me left her fon ! 
 
 The babe deferted thus, to tend 
 
 Neptune and Sol two dragons fend : 
 Their charge to feed the bee they fpoil, 
 And well difcharge th' appointed toil. 
 
 ANTISTROPHE III. 
 
 Homeward ^Epytus repairing, 
 
 Claims from his domeflic throng 
 Fair Evadne's fon, declaring 
 
 Him from fage Apollo fprung : 
 Prophecy's bright gift pofleffing, 
 
 Sight to pierce the rolls of fate ; 
 A perpetual lineage bleffing 
 
 With defcendents wife and great ! 
 Such, with enthufiafHc joy, 
 The prince proclaim'd the god-born boy : 
 
 But
 
 P O E M S. 
 
 But ftill he fpoke, and told in vain 
 What none had heard of, none had feen* 
 
 E P O D E III. 
 
 For Apollo five times his bright journey renew'd 
 
 While the babe lay conceal'd on a violet bed j 
 Where each fweeteft flower's choice fragrance bedew'd 
 His tender limbs nightly in open air lay'd. 
 But \vhe manhood, gaily blooming, 
 
 Spread his rofeat cheeks with down ; 
 On his birth divine presuming, 
 
 He to Alpheus' ftream haftes down : 
 There, midft the filence of the night, 
 To Neptune, and the god of light ; 
 
 Their fon imploring bow'd : 
 " Oh dignify, my fires, your race, 
 " Be worthy of my birth fome grace, 
 " Some glorious boon beftow'd!" 
 
 STROPHE IV. 
 
 Scarce thus the god-born fuppliant fighs, 
 
 Or ere his father's voice replies : 
 
 " Arife my fon, and let us trace 
 
 " That great, that glory-deftin'd place, 
 
 *' Where future triumphs Greece mail fliare j 
 
 " Arife my fon and haften there." 
 
 Speaking he led to Chronion's cloud-capt brow, 
 And there with light divine illum'd his foul; 
 
 A two-fold power dark fate's decrees to view 
 He gave: and inftant thro' his bofom roll* 
 
 Enthufiaflic
 
 POEMS: 129 
 
 Enthufiaftic fires ! the prophet glow'd, 
 And myflic truths declare the prefent god ! 
 But when in future days Alcides came, 
 
 Pread-doing hero, and ordain'd to Jove, 
 In wide Olympia's plains, the ferial game, 
 
 With rites befpeaking gratitude and love: 
 The favor'd feer then found his gifts complete, 
 From entrails, and the hallow'd fire 
 He read the book of fate ! 
 
 ANTISTROPHE IV. 
 
 So will'd the god : and thus thro' Greece 
 
 Of Jamus, the happy race 
 
 For rare felicity were fung : 
 
 Honour rewards fair virtues throng : 
 
 Who tread her paths, bright glory's fane 
 
 Shall reach : his adlions prove the man ! 
 Pale envy's poifon taints each noble deed : 
 
 Lo ; not even they the vile enchantrefs fhun 
 On whom true glory's foft'ring dews are med, 
 
 In great Olympia's courfe the conteft won ! 
 'Tis fo : thy mother's anceftors beftow'd 
 Due rites, Agefias, on the herald god: 
 Beneath Cyllene's hoary brow well pleas'd, 
 
 Hermes beheld their warm religious zeal : 
 Hermes of contefts holy umpire made, 
 
 The kindly guardian of Arcadia's weal : 
 And grateful by his fire, the thunderer's aid, 
 Thee with fo perfect happinefs repaid ! 
 
 E P o D E
 
 I 3 o POEMS. 
 
 E p o D E IV. 
 
 I catch the bright flame, and am warm'd with the fong ! 
 
 Thy praifes infpire me to chant forth my own : 
 From Thebes, fromMetopa, from great Ladon fprung, ' 
 I boaft my defcent, and I claim my renown : 
 There, thrice-happy bard, reclining, 
 
 Themes divine engage my lays : 
 Heroes brows immortal binding 
 
 With gay wreaths of blooming praife. 
 Hafte then, and roufe the choral throng, 
 ./Eneas, hafte and be the fong, 
 
 With Juno's name begun ! 
 And let who hear my lays confefs, 
 That his Bceotia's old difgrace 
 Great Pindar's numbers Ihun ! 
 
 STROPHE V. 
 
 Thou art a man the mufes love, 
 
 And in their councils hold'ft the highefl place : 
 Declaring thence what they approve, 
 
 Thou fhed'ft on favor'd bards their choiceft grace : 
 Turn then remind the grateful mufe 
 To (ing of beauteous Syracufe, 
 To fpeak renown'd Ortygia's prai-fe, 
 Where Hiero the fceptre fways ; 
 The rock of juftice bears his throne, 
 Religion's jewels grace his crown ; 
 Behold what glorious ftruftures rife, 
 For that dread power, who rules the fkies, 
 
 For
 
 POEMS. I 3I 
 
 For Ceres and her daughter's fake, 
 Behold for him. and let thofe ftruftures fpeak ! 
 
 ANTISTROPHE V. 
 
 Already the exulting lyre 
 
 The hero's glorious praifes has enjoy'd : 
 Still vibrates every fweet-tun'd wire, 
 
 For each his name has known, his fame employed : 
 Oh may no future times decreafe 
 The round of his confummate blifs ! 
 : ,. May he with wonted favour view 
 
 The hymn to brave Agefias due ; 
 Who from maternal climes removes 
 Arcadia's meads, and peaceful groves ; 
 In Sicily's bleft realms to trace 
 His father's, and a nobler race. 
 'Tis well, when nightly tempefts roar, 
 The (hip with double anchors to fecure. 
 
 EPODE THE LAST. 
 
 May heav'n's wide favour to each realm encreafe 
 Their chofen lot of happinefs and peace : 
 And oh dread ruler of the boundlefs fea, 
 Whofe voice the tempeft hears, the waves obey : 
 Thro' life's rough waves Agefias fafely fleer, 
 From ftorms protected, and from quick-fands clear: 
 With winds propitious fwell his happy fails ! 
 And as my fongs fame's ocean crofs, 
 Croud glory's favouring gales ! 
 
 82 THE
 
 JJ2 POEMS, 
 
 THE SEVENTH PYTHIAN ODE. 
 STROPHE I. 
 
 SO nobly whence deduce the fong, 
 Sacred to Megacles' renown, 
 A chief from great Alcmseon fpriing, 
 
 As from Minerva's mighty town? 
 Since where a family fo great, 
 
 Thro' Grecia's realms is found; 
 And where fo truly fam'd a ftate, 
 Thro' earth's capacious round ? 
 
 ANTISTROPHE I. 
 
 Athens, thy fame to all is known, 
 
 Thy fons by all are prais'd, 
 Who, Phoebus, by mad foes o'erthrown, 
 
 Thy hallow'd temple rais'd : 
 And, Megacles, to found thy fame, 
 
 Thofe conquefts urge me on, 
 By thee, at every glorious game, 
 
 And thy forefathers won. 
 
 E P O D E 
 
 Even five Corinthian palms obtain'd, 
 And one at great Olympus gain'd j 
 
 At
 
 POEMS. 133 
 
 At facred Delphi two : 
 Your late fuccefs I gladly hail, 
 * Yet mourn that envy mould prevail, 
 
 O'er fame and men like you. 
 Yet truft, your blifs is more fecure, 
 Your fortune's column ftands more fure, 
 
 Round which fome winds have blown, 
 Than that to heaven its head which rears, 
 And tempefts unmolefting dares, 
 
 Which blow ! and 'tis o'erthrown ! 
 
 * The original is. TO ' ttxwfM 
 
 <f>90vsv a.uu@op.tYoi 
 
 TO. xXa ejj/a where the fcholiaft obferves 
 
 tvirn vuv iu-Tv^n9ii<rri rti nxa. X*'?*'' at'^at S> h* rot iTnreH.eo.-rr^' 
 who, as he adds, died about this time, and was a relation of Age- 
 fias. Sedorius, in his tranflation, follows this explanation of the 
 fcholiaft. 
 
 Unum illud doleo,'poft tot adoreas, 
 Te laefum Hippocratis morte domeflica. 
 
 So that in the original, envy mud be underftood as a perfonage, 
 who had power to throw in a change, and deftroy the felicity of 
 great adlions : the poet confoles him upon this, \vith a piece of mora- 
 lity ; affuring him, that the happinefs is the moft firm, and moft flou- 
 riftiing, fAovipt. K, SaXAonrav, which is mix'd with fome vkiffitudes of 
 fortune, which brings ra ^ T, good and bad TOUIT ns<n ^ T>, Traj" 
 fays the fcholiaft. 
 
 Tev iftp jwao-' sfiXiirt, Ma 'aj/a9ovTt, jtaxjvTi, 
 AtV ttfs.S'TS' Jf Js J'nhmv aJiJttf. 
 
 THE
 
 134 POEMS. 
 
 THE NINTH PYTHIAN ODE. 
 STROPHE I. 
 
 GLOWING bright with fhield of brafs, 
 Victorious in the Pythian race ; 
 Great Teleficrates his praife, 
 My foul delights to found in nobleft lays. 
 Ye Graces aid your poet's fong, 
 And boldly bear the drain along. 
 Spread, fpread the blifs, the glory wide, 
 Of brave Gyrene's garland and her pride. 
 From Pelion's mount where winds perpetual roar, 
 Bright-hair'd Apollo fair Cyrene bore 
 To thofe bleft realms, where flocks in thoufands ftray, 
 
 And fulleft plenty crowns the fmiling plain : 
 In golden car he bore the nymph away, 
 
 And gave her o'er the world's third part to reign. 
 
 ANTISTROPHE I. 
 
 Bright Venus, goddefs of the fair, 
 Who holds her courts and revels there; 
 
 Smiling receiv'd her Delian gueft, 
 And breath'd foft love thro' each enamour'd breaft. 
 
 While modefty, fweet blufhing, fpread 
 
 The happy love-expecling bed ; 
 
 Where glad Apollo's glowing arms 
 Might clafp HypfaEUs' blooming daughter's charms. 
 From Ocean's monarch was Hypfasus fprung, 
 King of the Lapithae, a warlike throng : 
 
 Peneus,
 
 POEMS. 135 
 
 Peneus the God's, Hypfasus Peneus' fon, 
 
 Who dalliance with fair Creufa held 
 Jn Pindus' vale, where he the virgin won, 
 
 And with Gyrene's god- like father fill'd. 
 
 E p o D E I. 
 
 That father, with induftrious care, 
 Each female virtue taught the fair : 
 But (he a nobler talk approving, 
 
 Scorn'd the loom's enervate toys : 
 Far from female trains removing, 
 
 Talking banquets, lazy joys : 
 With the bow, the quiver arming, 
 
 To the field triumphant flew; 
 Where the favage race alarming, 
 
 Thefe her darts unerring flew : 
 O'er the hills Aurora rifing, 
 
 E'er equipp'd the maid beheld ; 
 Sleep's emollient blifs defpifing, 
 
 Early haft'ning to the field : 
 No hoftile beafts her father's realms annoy'd, 
 She clear'd each foreft, and each foe deftroy'd. 
 
 STROPHE II. 
 
 Once, without help of dart or fpear, 
 Maintaining an unequal war ; 
 Phoebus on Pelion's top furvey'd 
 Engag'd with lion fierce the lovely maid! 
 
 Strait Chiron, call'd he, from his cave, 
 
 Phyllirides, thy bower leave; 
 
 Forth,
 
 136 POEMS. 
 
 Forth, forth, dread Centaur from thy bower, 
 To view the triumphs of a female power. 
 View with what courage (he maintains the fight, 
 While her great fpririt foars beyond her might ; 
 She knows not fear : relate her happy fire, 
 
 What root its birth to branch fo glorious gave ? 
 What mortal to the honour may afpire, 
 
 Of daughter fo undaunted, fair, and brave i 
 
 ANTISTROPHE II. 
 
 On the virgin, Chiron, fay, 
 
 May we foft compulfion lay j 
 
 Gently force her to our arms, 
 And crop her virgin flower, and full-blown charms? 
 
 Soften'd to fmiles his features grave, 
 
 This anfwer fober Chiron gave ; 
 
 Who love's purer flames would fhare, 
 By fweet perfuafion fteal upon the fair ; 
 And with fond elegance of paflion move, 
 The yielding fair one to a virtuous love : 
 In modeft hints firft fighing out their flame, 
 
 And delicate alike, tho' bolder grown : 
 For gods and men hate thofe who know not fliame, 
 
 But mock the ear with ribbald lewdnefs' tone. 
 
 E P o D E II. 
 
 But thou, of truth great Deity, 
 Whofe proving touch all fallhoods fly : 
 
 Gentle
 
 POEMS. 137 
 
 Complaifarice alone infpiring, 
 
 Thee hath led to this requelt : 
 Art thou gracious, thou enquiring, 
 
 Whence defcends this maiden bleft ? 
 Thou, who all events art knowing, 
 
 Every path that mortals tread ; 
 Whence their feveral fates are flowing, 
 
 Where their feveral aclions lead: 
 Whofe is wifdom pad expreffing, 
 
 Knowledge paft our power to tell : 
 Sooner count we earth's encreafing, 
 
 When her pregnant bowels fwell : 
 Sooner, when waves roll rough, and tempefts roar, 
 Number the fands that raging croud the more. 
 
 T R O P H E 
 
 III. 
 
 All things are open to thine eyes, 
 Both where they flow, and whence they rife: 
 Yet if, with one fo wile and great, 
 'Tis granted me, dread king, myfelf to meet; 
 Hear what the Centaur hath to tell : 
 Dellin'd the maid's, thou fought'ft this vale ; 
 Hither thou cam'ft, her love to mare, 
 And to Jove's gardens o'er the feas to bear. 
 Thither thy * people from their f ifle mall tend, 
 And to the vale-furrounded hill afcend ; 
 
 * The Spartans. f Thera. 
 
 Where
 
 138. P O E M S. 
 
 Where rule from thee, Cyrene, mall receive ! 
 
 Now for thy fake glad Lybia to the fair, 
 In golden domes reception waits to give : 
 
 And yield her of her fpacious empire fhare. 
 
 ANTISTROPHE III. 
 
 There (hall they rule, their laws the fame, 
 And joint command, and empire claim; 
 O'er realms for nobleft hearts renown'd, 
 O'er fields with fruits and fulleft plenty crown'd. 
 There with a fon mall me be bleft, 
 Whom, carried from his mother's breaft, 
 The golden-throned hours mail join 
 With mother earth to nurfe, and make divine : 
 Hermes to them mall bear Apollo's race, 
 And on their laps the fmiling infant place : 
 His rofy lips the well-pleas'd nymphs (hall blefs, 
 
 With neftar and ambrofia, heavenly food ; 
 Which, to his fires and grandfires place mail raife, 
 And make of men's delight, the man, a god. 
 
 E P O D E III. 
 
 The fields, the flocks, his care (hall claim, 
 And Ariftasus be his name." 
 Speaking thus, to confummation, 
 
 Chiron inftigates the god ; 
 Swift is each immortal action ; 
 
 Swift the flight, and fhort the road : 
 
 Saw
 
 POEMS. 159 
 
 Saw that day the deed unended? 
 
 Lybia flrait received the pair : 
 Both the golden bed afcended, 
 
 Bleft, and both immortal there ; 
 There her beauteous city guarding, 
 
 Fair Cyrene ever (miles. 
 Her Carneans ftill rewarding, 
 
 In the Pythian's facred toils. 
 Thrice bleft Carnean, * whofe renown can give 
 Fame to thofe realms, whence all their fame receive ! 
 
 * Teleficrates. 
 
 AN
 
 1 40 POEM'S. 
 
 AN ODE 
 
 TO THE MARCHIONESS OF GRANBY. 
 
 ^^ ^ awful port and carriage grand 
 I faw him lead his gallant band : 
 Ocean's rough waves fafely croft, 
 I faw him on Germania's coaft, 
 There the Britilh colours flying, 
 
 Britifn drums and fhouts refound: 
 There the Britim courfers neighing, 
 
 Snuff the air, and paw the ground ! 
 Still wonder, her finger her ruby lip preffing, 
 
 Sate fix'd in a cloud o'er the throng; 
 As flow, in order juft, the heroes march'd along ! 
 But when thy manly foldier came, 
 I faw, I mark'd each fpeaking face : 
 Each eye was fix'd, illuftrious dame, 
 And every finger mark'd his martial grace ! 
 ' Great GRANBY Rutland's noble fon ; 
 
 Thro' all the crowd was heard aloud, 
 And every voice and heart was one : 
 Safety on his helmet play : 
 " Conqueft mark his falchion's way." 
 
 II. 
 
 Thus on her couch, while penfive GRANBY lay, 
 Her hand upheld her head with cares oppreft : 
 
 What marvel, when her hero was away, 
 That tears her eyes, that terror fill'd her breafl ? 
 
 Thus
 
 POEMS. 141 
 
 'Thus fpoke the genius of the RUTLAND line: 
 She heard fhe knew me bleit the found: 
 For if old bards have rightly fung, 
 Deeply read in ancient flory : 
 The guardian genius of each race, 
 When mortals to appear among, 
 They difrobe them of the glory, 
 Which cloaths the fplendid children of the fcies, 
 Wove in light, and far too bright, 
 For dazzled human eyes : 
 They then affume the form, the grace, 
 The tone of voice, the turn of face, 
 
 And all the manner of the line, 
 
 O'er which the laws of heav'n their guardian care aflign. 
 He fpoke fhe heard, ihe knew the found; 
 " And is he fafe, fhe rofe, fhe cried, 
 " And is he fafe on hoftile ground ? 
 " Safety on his helmet play : 
 " Conquefl mark his falchion's way !'* 
 Who can wonder at the throng ; 
 Heav'n applaud and hear the fong ! 
 Who can wonder thefe admire? 
 
 Wherefoe'er my foldier moves, 
 Every bofom is on fire, 
 
 Every eye, that views him, loves ! 
 Tell me, gentle genius, tell, 
 
 I a thoufand truths wou'd know : 
 On his cheeks with rofeate glow 
 Still doth health delight to dwell ! 
 Tell me gentle genius tell ! 
 Every grateful truth difcover, 
 Eafe the wife, the friend, the lover, 
 
 Where's
 
 142 POEMS, 
 
 Where's my hero eafe my care : 
 Tell me gentle genius, where." 
 
 Ill, 
 
 With fmiles ferene, 
 Such as ever beaming play 
 On the brows of fpirits bleft, 
 In the realms of endlefs day, 
 And diffufe, where'er they move, 
 Like the gay fun, thro' every breaft, 
 Light and comfort, joy and love ! 
 
 With fmiles ferene, 
 
 He faw the generous paffions as they flrove : 
 He faw applauding, wav'd his head, 
 
 With amaranthine flowrets crown'd : 
 His rich celeftial plumage {hook, and flied 
 
 Ambrofial odours all reviving round : 
 And thus with tender fympathy addreft, 
 And thus with tone mellifluous lull'd to reft 
 The heaven-born paffions, all approv'd, 
 
 That anxious throbb'd within her breaft, 
 
 IV. 
 
 " Matchlefs wife on golden pinion, 
 
 Summon'd by thy tender care, 
 From GER MANIA'S vex'd dominion, 
 Like a fun-beam thro' the air, 
 Have I wing'd my azure way ; 
 Ocean's wide wafte 
 In a moment o'er-paft 
 At the fummons of virtue no fpirit can ftay.
 
 POEMS. 143 
 
 Heaven approves thy fweet concern : 
 
 Ceafe to fear and ceafe to mourn. 
 From antient times and annals old, 
 The care of many a baron bold 
 
 Of RUTLAND'S gallant line, 
 Hath claim'd my watchful hand and eye ; 
 To fave, to raife in glory high, 
 
 The pleading bufinefs mine. 
 But when the honour of the race, 
 The high-born heroes I re-trace, 
 Heroes, who now in golden domes, 
 Where everlafting pleafure blooms, 
 Drink the pure nectar of delight, 
 My charge thro' all the radiant day, 
 
 My watch thro' all the night : 
 None, none amidft them I furvey, 
 Whofe generous worth and ample mind, 
 Noble foul and nature kind, 
 So well my fervices repay, 
 So enkindle each defire, 
 Higher Hill to raife and higher 
 In the founding fong of fame, 
 As him, to whom the power divine 
 Has to thy care, bright fair, and mine, 
 
 Allotted equal claim ! 
 
 V. 
 
 Now his country calls to arms ; 
 
 Hufh each tender female fear : 
 Now the generous ardour warms ; 
 
 Truft him to his guardian's care. 
 
 Shou'd
 
 J44 POEMS. 
 
 Shou'd the furious battle rage, 
 Rank with hoilile rank engage : 
 At his fide attendant ever, 
 I from danger will deliver: 
 
 When the glowing ball fhall fly, 
 Levell'd from the roaring mouth of death : 
 
 I will turn it harmlefs by, 
 And bid it fan him with its guiltlefs breath. 
 When juft on his head defcending, 
 
 The battle-ax cleaves the air: 
 From the fierce ruin defending, 
 
 I will fufpend it there. 
 Helm, or habergeon may fail, 
 Greaves of brafs, or coat of mail : 
 Truftier armour fhall he prove, 
 In. his GUARDIAN'S care and love, 
 
 VI. 
 
 Nor in the wild rage of the battle alone, 
 Shall the banner of fafety around him be thrown : 
 The fickly troop and pale, 
 
 That on difeafe's camp attend, 
 Not daring to afTail 
 
 Whom heav'n androfy health defend, 
 
 Gnafhing their teeth fhall growl and fly ; 
 But why, great MARL BOROUGH *, gracious heav'n, ah 
 I fee his GENIUS ftand in fpeechlefs trance: [why ? 
 
 Drooping his fky-tinftur'd plumes, 
 
 Inverted his celeftial lance ! 
 
 . * The duke of Marlborough died in Germany, 1758. 
 
 While
 
 POEMS. n$ 
 
 While tears, fuch as angels weep, 
 Down his bright vifage all unbidden creep. 
 Oh that every virtue join'd, 
 The prudent head, the feeling heart, 
 The manly, martial, melting mind, 
 Cou'd not arreft awhile th' unerring dart ! 
 
 VII. 
 
 Cou'd not but why indulge the plaintive mood? 
 Or why the juft decrees of God arraign ? 
 
 HE wills, and what HE wills, is wife, is good ; 
 
 And who mail dare complain ? 
 Suffice it, fair one, that to thee 
 Is given the bleft fecurity, 
 Ere the gayly circling fun 
 Thro' the Zodiac hath run, 
 On thy bofom's downy reft, 
 On the throbbings of thy breaft 
 Thy foldier to receive, 
 With all the melting blifs 
 Chafte affeftion has to give. 
 
 vnr. 
 
 Rapturous Hymen then Ihall come 
 
 Young defire, with purple bloom ; 
 
 Innocence in milk-white veft, 
 
 Truth unzon'd with open breaft: 
 
 With all the loves, that crown'd with rofes 
 
 Ever dance in jocund play, 
 Round the couch on which repofes 
 
 U The
 
 146 POEMS. 
 
 The virtuous pair delighted, 
 
 In fofteft trance united : 
 
 Squint fufpicion far a way, 
 
 And all the fnaky brood of hell, 
 
 That in the harlot's bought fmiles mafic, 
 
 And ferpentine embraces dwell ! 
 
 And I, with that illuftrious fpirit, 
 
 Who preferves the matchlefs merit 
 
 Of thy high-born houfe, whofe glory 
 
 Liveth long in ancient ftory, 
 
 Will weave a web of richeft texture, 
 
 Of each line's grand intermixture j 
 
 Which to lateft times mail mare, 
 Our mutual and united love, 
 
 Our mutual and united care. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Till the happy hour arrive, 
 
 Live refign'd and chearful live, 
 
 Fair blooming branch of SEYMOUR'S (lately tree ! 
 
 Clofe by thy hero's fide, 
 I will preferve, will guard, and guide, 
 
 And fafe reftore to Britain and to thee ! 
 And returning, round his head 
 My fevenfold fhield, of heavenly temper made, 
 Impervious to each mortal ftroke, 
 Will all-prote&ing fpread." 
 
 X. Thus
 
 POEMS, , 47 
 
 X. 
 
 Thus while he fpoke, 
 
 Attention liilen'd on her face: 
 
 And every gentle paflion ftrove 
 
 To glow with moil attracting grace, 
 Affeftion, juft concern, foft fear, and patriot love: 
 
 But judging filence here a fin, 
 
 They joined all in one requefl, 
 
 And fpoke the burden of her breafl : 
 
 " Gentle genius, no delay, 
 
 Quickly, quickly then return : 
 
 Hafle thee, guardian, hafte away, 
 
 Painful is a moment's flay, 
 For thy inftant departure impatient I burn : 
 
 Oh tarry not, but hafte and fpread 
 
 Thy fhield, of heavenly temper made, 
 
 Slefl genius, round my lord's, my lover's valued 
 head." 
 
 U 2 AN
 
 H S P O E M S. 
 
 AN ODE. 
 
 OCCASIONED BY LADY N D'S BEING 
 
 PREVENTED BY ILLNESS FROM COMING TO THE 
 CHAPEL OF THE MAGDALEN-HOUSE. 
 
 I. 
 
 HENCE, loathed pain ; 
 With envious difappointment in thy train! 
 Hence, and crofs the frozen feas, 
 To the northern Hebrides : 
 Or where th' unfeeling Calmuc flains 
 With ruthlefs blood the plunder'd plains ! 
 But no more thy harpy hand 
 
 Lay upon N d ; 
 
 Neither in thine iron chain, 
 From the pleafing fcenes detain* 
 Where the cherub pity mares 
 Joy, that pleafure feldom bears 
 On her gayeft fmile ; or knows, 
 When her laughter loudeft flows ! 
 
 II. 
 
 Noble fpirits, moft partaking 
 
 Of the pure sthereal flame, 
 Find the fulleft blifs in making 
 
 All around enjoy the fame. 
 O how pleafing to difpenfe 
 Rays of rich benevolence !
 
 POEMS. 149 
 
 O how godlike to impart 
 
 All the generous feeling heart ! 
 
 And with comforts to o'erflow 
 
 All the weeping wants of woe ! 
 
 But from vice's filthy jaw, 
 
 But from death and hell to draw; 
 
 And to plant in virtue's plain, 
 
 And to give to heaven again ; 
 
 Thefe are works which warm the breaft 
 
 With the tranfports of the bleft; 
 Thefe, thefe are works, which time itfelf defy : 
 Built on the boundlefs bafe of vaft eternity ! 
 
 III. 
 
 Jlluflrious branch of SEYMOUR'S ftately tree, 
 
 Thefe are the works, whofe captivating form 
 Soft-ey'd companion waits to fhew to thee, 
 
 Waits with her own pure flame thy foul to warm ; 
 Waits to raife the generous figh, 
 To Heal a tear from thy bright eye ; 
 
 Drops of melting charity ! 
 Sighs which pleafe us while they pain, 
 Tears which fpeak the heart humane ; 
 
 Tokens fure of virtue's reign ! 
 And thofe will rife, and thefe will flow, 
 When thou with lenient looks fhall view, 
 The decent throng, in modeft guife array'd, 
 
 With humbled heart, and humbled eye, 
 The decent throng, fo lately loft and dead, 
 
 Wrapt in foul woe, and cloath'd with infamy ! 
 
 " Planted
 
 I 5 o POEMS. 
 
 " Planted now in virtue's plain, 
 " Now reftor'd to heaven again !" 
 When thou (halt hear their folemn prayers, 
 Mix'd with deep repentant tears : 
 
 Grateful fongs and tuneful praife, 
 Pious orgies, facred lays ; 
 Finer pleafures which difpenfe 
 Than the fined joys of fenfe : 
 And each melting bofom move, 
 And each liquid eye o'erflow 
 With benevolence and love ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 Let the roving talkers boaft ; 
 Who, themfelves to virtue loft, 
 Still feducing, 
 Still deluding, 
 With ungrateful feoffs decry 
 Thofe they won to wanton joy ! 
 Black'ning the fair female fame, 
 With the foul love of luft and fhame ! 
 All their cenfures to difprove, 
 
 Let them feek this firft retreat 
 Britons gave to them, whofe love 
 Gives to life its choiceft fweet ! 
 Then will they view it with abafh'd furprize, 
 By ruin'd, but returning fair-ones throng'd, 
 And own that on themfelves, not thofe they wrong'd, 
 The heavy charge retorted doubly lies ! 
 
 But, ah ! beware, 
 Seducers, that it refts not ever there ! 
 
 V. Daughters
 
 POEMS. 151 
 
 V. 
 
 Daughters of Britain's blooming ifle, 
 Where beauty wears her fweeteft fmile, 
 Where virtue veils in whiteft fnow ; 
 And love's own rofes fullefl blow : 
 Ah ! gentle fair, accept the tribute due 
 To truth, to virtue, and to you ! 
 Lo ! confcious of our blame, 
 For thofe, whom pleafure's golden bait 
 Has drawn from virtue's facred feat, 
 
 Through man's feducing fhame; 
 This houfe of mercy is procur'd, 
 Where, from deceit's fly fnares immur'd, 
 Fair chaflity again may light 
 Her late extinguim'd flame! 
 Aid then, ye lovely ones, the good defign, 
 
 So may each pleafure in your dwellings reft ! 
 The virtuous hufband, and the lovely line ; 
 
 So may each joy domeftic glad each breaft ! 
 But chiefly thou, illuftrious SEYMOUR, pour 
 Thy foft'ring fuccours, thy indulgent care : 
 Yet, yet but tender is the budding flow'r: 
 Thy genial hand's kind tendance let it mare ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 And thou, DING LEY, virtue's friend, 
 
 Son of foft humanity ; 
 Still thy pleafing charge attend : 
 
 And in the name of charity, 
 
 Of
 
 152 .POEMS. 
 
 Of returning penitence, 
 Liberal benevolence : 
 Weeping virtue, heavenly love; 
 This and every fair one move, 
 Every Britifh fair renown'd, 
 Thro' the globe's capacious round, 
 For the pleafures they difpenfe, 
 Beauty, kindnefs, innocence: 
 
 Ah move them in the generous work to join ! 
 But wherefore ftrive to move ? 
 
 Already every worthy heart is thine. 
 
 759- 
 
 A N
 
 POEMS. , 53 
 
 SUSPENCE. AN ODE. 
 
 WRITTEN WHILE WAITING FOR THE COMING OF 
 A LADY. 
 
 SH AL L I write or ftill tormented, 
 Mufing fit, or lonely Itray? 
 Yonder firft no, here contented, 
 
 Let me fcribble care away. 
 Poh, 'tis idle gods, I'll to her, 
 
 Venus, Cupid aid ! vain fool, 
 What can they ? Go, foftly woe her, 
 
 Plead, and mingle foul with foul : 
 Quick adown that walk I'll wander 
 
 Something white ; oh fure 'tis me ! 
 Nothing nothing ah, Leander, 
 
 Doubt is death to Helle's fea. 
 Watch! thou dotard time, move fafter; 
 
 But one hour I thought it four ! 
 Dull machine unlike thy matter, 
 
 Clicking even ever more ! 
 All is hurry expeftation, 
 
 Panting, trembles in my brealt ; 
 Since I held her hand vexation, 
 
 Thrice ten hundred minutes pafs'd ! 
 Come my love, my charmer, blefs me, 
 
 Or her thoughts, kind genius, bear ! 
 But oh rather come, releafe me 
 
 From my foul- bewildering fear! 
 
 X Shall
 
 154 POEM S. 
 
 Shall my hand, thy foft hand preffing, 
 
 Aid the pleadings of my heart? 
 Hold hold torture paft expreffing 
 
 Sure me would not mock my fmart ! 
 Oh 'tis mighty that fame reafon, 
 
 Spark divine -lord man's proud boaft: 
 Love, his fubjeft, rank in treafon, 
 
 Hourly makes him quit the coaft. 
 Little rebel, I'll fuhdue thee 
 
 And thy dread companion doubt ! 
 Nay, my friend, I Mill will woe thee; 
 
 Drive, but drive that monfter out ! 
 Send him to his proper ftation, 
 
 Lords, kings, minifters, or court, 
 Where the fons of expectation 
 
 Fall of place and promife fhort : 
 Send him to the bifliop's palace, 
 
 Where the poor lean curate fcouts ; 
 Or to where, in fuff'rings callous, 
 
 Client nine years law-fuit doubts : 
 Send him juft where is your pleafure, 
 
 Admirals, generals, furgeons-hall : 
 Playhoufe poets, marks of treafure, 
 
 E, O White's, or good Sir P*. 
 Vain, alas, my fond providing, 
 
 See, ah fee he haunts me here: 
 And with fneers my cares deriding, 
 
 Points me to the ideal fair : 
 Will me come ? I fly to meet her : 
 
 Hence, vain mufe, your rhymes I throw : 
 She comes, 'tis her thanks, thanks, dear creature [ 
 
 Blank falfe, fhe's falfe yet 
 
 Sure fhe's true! 1749
 
 POEM S. 155 
 
 TO TWO AGREEABLE SISTERS, 
 
 WHO DESIRED VERSES OF ME IN THE YEAR 1738. 
 BY A GENTLEMAN OF YORKSHIRE. 
 
 CO U ' D I, like Pope, or Swift indite, 
 What pleafure, ladies, 'twere to write ! 
 Like theirs, were my expreffions fraught 
 With elegance and llrength of thought ; 
 No mufe, no goddefs I'd require 
 To firing my harp and tune my lyre ; 
 Eliza's charms, Eliza's name, 
 My lofty lays mould give to fame : 
 And echo, each harmonious (train, 
 With wanton joy, repeat again ; 
 In flowing numbers while I trace 
 The beauties of her matchlefs face j 
 The virtues of her fpotlefs foul, 
 Which dart a luftre on the whole ; 
 Which, when the rofe and lily fade, 
 Will {till embalm the lovely maid ; 
 Will ftill endear the marriage flate, 
 When other charms fubmit to fate. 
 
 Nor fhould the other darling fair 
 Be lefs the poet's theme and care ; 
 Bright Patfy ! whofe engaging face, 
 The graces all confpire to grace; 
 Lefs fair the celebrated maid, 
 That whilom on * Tweed's borders ftray'd ; 
 * See a celebrated fong, called Tweed fide, 
 
 X 2 The
 
 i,6 POEMS. 
 
 The love and wonder of each fvvain, 
 Who tripp'd it o'er the daiiied plain. 
 No ruffling gufts, no guilty joy, 
 Her fettled calm of mind deftroy; 
 But in her air, and lovely mien, 
 The beauties of her foul are feen. 
 
 Happy the fwain, yea, doubly bleft, 
 Of either beauteous fair pofleft ! 
 
 T.P. 
 
 STAN-
 
 POEMS. 157 
 
 STANZAS 
 
 OCCASIONED BY THE VERSES ON TWO AGREEABLE 
 
 SISTERS. 
 
 HAPPY poet, pleas'd inditing 
 Sweet Eliza's heav'nly charms ; 
 Happier far the youth delighting 
 
 In the nymph's more heav'nly arms ! 
 Freely fmg, thrice bleft enjoying 
 
 All the tranfports fhe can give ; 
 Clafp'd in pleafures never cloying, 
 
 Live, O favour'd mortal, live. 
 But prefumptuous, never venture 
 
 Patfy's grace divine to fing ; 
 Far below thy verfe muft centre, 
 
 Far too weak thy trembling wing. 
 Oh what racking tumults feize me ! 
 
 Oh what pangs of jealous love! 
 Muft another poet pleafe thee r 
 
 Can my fair his ftrains approve ? 
 Can my fair forget the pleafures, 
 
 Harmlefs hours of joy we've feen ; 
 Sweeter far than mifer's treafures, 
 
 More than halycon feas ferene ? 
 Yet, alas! hard fate requiring! 
 
 Sad oblivion abfence draws ; 
 Loft, forgot, I lie expiring, 
 
 Patfy falfe, the much lov'd caufe. 
 
 Pity,
 
 i s & POEM S. 
 
 Pity, charming maid, relenting, 
 
 Call to rnind thy abjeft flave, 
 Smile propitious, fmile confenting, 
 
 Give thofe pleafures once you gave ! 
 Know that Venus, now attending, 
 
 Soon will leave thy form divine, 
 All thy outward beauties ending, 
 
 Ceafe to charm, and ceafe to mine. 
 Kind the leflbn true receiving, 
 
 Kind my heart, my foul return ; 
 Big with love thy bofom heaving, 
 
 Big with love my breaft fhall burn. 
 All our youth, one endlefs bleffing, 
 
 Gay tranfporting joys mail crown; 
 Solid comforts fure pofTeffing, 
 
 When declining life moves down : 
 Then new blifs but, where tranfporting, 
 
 Idle fancy ! wilt thou lead ? 
 See the nymph, her neck retorting, 
 
 Flies, nor deigns to hear thee plead. 
 
 A N
 
 POEMS. 159 
 
 AN ODE, 
 
 OCCASIONED BV A YOUNG LADY'S LAUGHING AT 
 ME FOR STAYING FROM AN ASSEMBLY. 
 
 OH 'twas hard nay, ceafe your fmiling. 
 Prithee laugh not fure 'twas hard; 
 Still feverer, you reviling, 
 
 Joys like thofe to be debarr'd : 
 Belles in beauty's glitter Ihining, 
 
 Gay delights foft-fwimming round ; 
 Duty's mighty chain confining, 
 
 Thefe I faw, from thefe was bound ! 
 Kark, with tranfports foftly thrilling, 
 
 Mafic melts each gentle breaft, 
 Sounds once pleafing, fadly chilling, 
 
 Tell infulting thou'rt diftreft! 
 Thus, in cage the goldfinch fighing, 
 
 Droops, in fummer fun-fhine hung ; 
 Fluttering friends around him flying, 
 
 Gayly tune their amorous fong ; 
 There their burnifh'd wings difplaying, 
 
 Tuning here their notes to love: 
 He in vain like them efTaying 
 
 Free to fing, and free to rove. 
 Cytherea fond atte-nding, 
 
 Wou'd young Paris not have gone? 
 You, with beauty her's tranfcending 
 
 Sighing view'd I, forc'd to Ihun. 
 
 Alk
 
 160 POEMS. 
 
 Afk the failor, if appearing 
 
 Blifs and plenty on the coaft, 
 From fo fweet enchantments veering, 
 
 Rocks and winds, and waves he'd trull ? 
 Sight moft cutting! view thofe graces 
 
 Smiling in each dimpled cheek : 
 Joy on joy in tranfport prefles, 
 
 General rapture all things fpeak. 
 I fink, I flag : fleep cruel flies me, 
 
 Darknefs, horror round my bed : 
 Twelve's fad beats with fears furprize me, 
 
 Ghofts and goblins, maiden's dread ! 
 < Sleep, benignant god, receive me ;" 
 
 He confents and all is peace: 
 And in kindnefs to relieve me, 
 
 Bore me where my foul found eafe: 
 In a grove of myrtle flraying, 
 
 Thee, my Delia, there I found : 
 Cupid too was come a-maying, 
 
 Him we join'd, and mirth went round. 
 Sudden wak'd from blifs fo charming, 
 
 (Pleafares oft exchange for pain :) 
 Soon the fcene my foul alarming, 
 
 Came that Cupid * and his train j 
 And a Venus, Delia, believe me, 
 
 Fair and form'd in ftamp like thine: 
 Cupid's whifpers can't deceive me 
 
 Both are fillers, both divine. J 
 
 * Mifs P's brother, a little boy about three years old.
 
 POEMS. 16.1 
 
 A TALE. 
 
 OCCASIONED BY THE SAME YOUNG LADY*S REFUS- 
 ING TO PLAY AT QUADRILLE, WHEN ASK J D BY 
 A GENTLEMAN. 
 
 Carmina non injufia cano. 
 
 AMIDST her gay and brilliant court, 
 Where mining beaus and belles refort; 
 To hear complaints in mighty ftate, 
 Aloft the queen of cards was fate : 
 When, bufy buftling thro' the throng, 
 With hoop fwung high, there came along 
 A finall, important, vengeful ill, 
 Firft confidante of queen quadrille : 
 The lady feem'd quite out of breath, 
 And vow'd herfelf fatigu'd to death ; 
 Play'd quick her fan, while heav'd her breaft, 
 And eyes of anger fpoke the reft. 
 
 " Well, fuch a thing," was firft her cry, 
 " I tremble for your majefty ; 
 " Your empire fure can't laft a minute, 
 " I never thought fuch rebels in it !" 
 
 Strait was the court in fuch a way 
 The queen was fainting " hartfnorn, pray !" 
 All the choice fpirits in a hurry, 
 The ladies too in fuch a flurry : 
 Oh mocking ! what can all this bring, 
 Hafle faks, drops, fpirits anything! 
 
 Y But
 
 162 POEMS. 
 
 But now fuppofe 'em all much better, 
 And hear mifs MAT. read o'er her letter : 
 " Long live and profper, long the reign 
 Of our belov'd, high-favor'd queen : 
 Spadill. Bait. Pont, and fo forth greeting 
 Whereas (Sept. 4th, our laft lov'd meeting,} 
 Some fubjecls loyally intending, 
 Your majefty's fair realms extending ; 
 Good, honeft, (launch and amicable, 
 Furnifh'd with fifh and cards the table : 
 And thinking nothing in their way, 
 Lo, a fair nymph refus'd to play : 
 Nay, and what more the crime compleated, 
 Tho' by a gentleman intreated ! 
 Putting the reft in fear and fret 
 Of that day making up a fet; 
 Endangering the ftate hereby, 
 And fcandalizing majefty : 
 Wherefore we joint petition make, 
 The matter you'd in council take j 
 And punifh fuch prefumptuous beauty, 
 That others hence may know their duty.*' 
 " Beauty ! mifs MAT. was then the cry, 
 " And entre nous, and let me die, 
 " Was whifper'd loud from beau and belle, 
 " With fluff, meer fluff, Pha, Bagatelle; 
 " Nonfenfe! But pray, to know her better, 
 " Defcribe this beauty, La, poor creature !" 
 
 " Nay, I confefs it is but fmall 
 " And then her merit, none at all : 
 " (With haughty fneer mifs MAT. went on) 
 " With us, fhe'd not be look'd upon: 
 
 ' For
 
 POEMS. 163 
 
 " For tho' he> eyes are fweetly bright, 
 
 " And would kill thoufands, if they might: 
 
 " She keeps them modeftly at home, 
 
 " Nor lets their pointed ogles roam : 
 
 " Nor languifhings with art beftows 
 
 ' On all the circling group of beaus : 
 
 " And tho' her face and every feature 
 
 " Are well enough (there are much better!) 
 
 " Yet me has fuch an humble foul, 
 
 " So foft, fo modeft little fool, 
 
 *' I cou'd, methinks, almoft defpife her, 
 
 " But that all, all 'tis pity prize her." 
 
 She ended, and in all their ears 
 
 Left fuch contempt, that thoufand fneers, 
 
 With thoufand laughs loud iflu'd forth, 
 
 With " paffing beauty, paffing worth, 
 
 To fentence, fentence, hafte we duly ; 
 
 Ah ridicule fine beauty truly!" 
 
 'Twere tedious, readers, here to draw 
 The various forms of long-breath'd law ; 
 Since juft the fame the women wore 'em 
 As the wife brethren of the quorum, 
 Tho' chance the flies were wordier, than 
 Their winking, wig-wife brethren ; 
 For thefe, to country feffions run, 
 Our fentence firft, and we have done : 
 
 " To all and fmgular each one, 
 To whom thefe prefents (hall be known : 
 Whereas a nymph, Preftantia hight, 
 In manners' and our queen's defpight, 
 Has ventur'd hardily to run 
 The vengeance of our gracious throne, 
 
 y 2 Hereby
 
 164 POEMS. 
 
 Hereby enafting, we command 
 Our loyal fubjeds thro' the land, 
 With utmoft rigor to fulfil, 
 Our juft decree, and royal will. 
 
 Firft, we command pale Modefty, 
 With down-caft-ey'd Humility, 
 That bafhful ftrumpet, Innocence, 
 That prude, mifs Virtue ; formal Senfe ; 
 The ideot, laughing child, Good-Nature, 
 Proud Honor, Softnefs, plaguing creature, 
 With all the train of fuch-like Graces, 
 With pious eyes, and holy faces, 
 Ever to plague her where me goes, 
 But chief amidil our friends, the beaus. 
 
 Next, that whene'er our friends are met, 
 And want one to compleat their fet, 
 On no conditions whatfoe'er, 
 Their compliments be fent to Her. 
 And be it fpecially provided, 
 With fecrets me be ne'er confided : 
 Such as tend chiefly to maintain 
 Our loving fifter, Scandal's reign : 
 Nor bear a part in prittle-prattle, 
 Of rumor-loving tittle-tattle. 
 Nor may me feel that warmth of foul 
 Shar'd by true fubje&s on a vole, 
 And if me mould attempt to play, 
 Be beafted all the live- long day : ... 
 
 And like ourfelves, when luck runs crofs, 
 Frown, fnap, fnarl, fcowl, bounce, fret and tofs : 
 May then no fmiles her dimples mew, 
 No laughter blythe her ivory row ; 
 
 Nor
 
 POEMS. 16,- 
 
 Nor well-condu<Eled vengeance dart 
 From fnow-white hand the gazer's heart. 
 And laft of all, when thus contemn'd, 
 May fhe for ever be condemn'd 
 The fweets of liberty to lofe, 
 Faft bound in tyrant hufband's noofe : 
 No beau : a thing of wealth and fenfe, 
 With much of wifdom, and more pence, 
 To raife her cares, and drive about 
 In chariot with her fee-faw lout ; 
 Far from intrigue, dear rout, and drum, 
 With hufband dull, and duller home : 
 And, worft of all, may prattlers many, 
 A Gilly, Betfy, Philly, Fanny, 
 Torment her, as they do her mother, 
 And render her juft fuch another : 
 Mad to defpife the dear beau-monde, 
 For children fair, and hufband fond. " 
 Thus fpake the learned of the laws, 
 The court malicious fneer'd applaufe ; 
 Mifs MAT. the fentence feiz'd and kift, 
 And flrait to B * * n was difmift. 
 
 1748. 
 
 HAF-
 
 i66 POEMS. 
 
 HAPPINESS EVERY WHERE. 
 
 OCCASIONED BY A LADY'S CONDEMNING OUR CHOICE 
 OF MARGATE FOR A PLACE OF ENTERT A IN MEHT. 
 
 Eft Ulubris. HOR. 
 
 / "T A HO f deteftible the place ; 
 
 JL Mean the lodgings, fmall and bafe : 
 
 " Tho' the croaded hoy pours forth 
 
 Company of little worth : 
 
 " Coach or chariot, tho' there's none 
 
 " Rattling thro' the fifliing town :" * 
 
 Yet Maria, yet my fair, 
 Happinefs fhall find us here. 
 Happinefs our friend mall be ; 
 Ubiquarian Deity ! 
 There's the rapture ! in the mind 
 Dwells the goddefs, unconfm'd : 
 Place me fcorns ; delighted beft, 
 When enthron'd within the breaft ! 
 
 Ha Maria then I've found 
 Whence it comes that I am crown'd 
 With fuch fweet ferenity 
 When accompanied by thee ! 
 
 This is fuppofed to come from the mouth of the objeftor, but 
 in reality is far from the truth ; fmce the company is very agree- 
 able, and the carriages and horfes fo numerous here, that there is 
 not room enough fur either j many being obliged to fend them to 
 Ramfgate, and elfswhere. ij6z. 
 
 Thou
 
 POEMS. 167 
 
 Thou thyfelf art happinefs ! 
 From thy conftant aim to blefs, 
 From thy ftudious zeal to pleafe, 
 Chearful, unaffefted eafe, 
 Smiling brow, and gentle tongue, 
 I have known and felt it long. 
 And I muft I muft be bleft, 
 For thou reigneft in my breaft ! 
 
 Whether then upon the itrand 
 Arm-in-arm we wond'ring {land, 
 And the world of waters fee, 
 Dread Creator, full of Thee : 
 Whether on the fands we rove, 
 And talk of Clementina's love *, 
 Dropping, for the pious fair, 
 Now and then a tender tear : 
 Whether o'er the fertile ifle 
 Pleafing rides our time beguile: 
 Whether to the rooms we ihay, 
 Bright afTemblage of the gay, 
 Where, in focial converfe join'd, 
 Mirth exhilarates the mind : 
 Every fcene fhall fure fupply 
 An exuberance of joy ; 
 For our conftant friend mall be 
 Heart-enthron'd Felicity ! 
 
 There's the rapture ! Thus, my fair, 
 Happinefs is ev'ryvwhere. 
 
 * Reading Sir Charles Grandifon at this time. 
 
 VERSES,
 
 168 POEMS. 
 
 VERSES, 
 
 OCCASIONED BY SEEING THE COUNTESS OF HERT- 
 FORD, IN TEARS AT THE MAGDALEN HOUSE. 
 
 B Right CHARITY, as ftories fay, 
 Met BRITAIN'S Genius t'other day; 
 Both look'd delight, and never wore 
 A face of greater joy before. 
 
 " How falfe the ftories fome have fpread 
 (The laft began,) immortal Maid ! 
 How falfe the tale, that never times 
 Were fpotted with fuch numerous crimes ; 
 That never days, like thefe, were known, 
 With fuch degenerate weeds o'ergrown ! 
 Hear them, and Virtue proftrate lies, 
 While Vice and Folly tyrannize ; 
 Religion's lamp hath loft its light, 
 No man is good, no deed is right ! 
 But, beft of Graces, every day, 
 In public while you pleafe to ftray 
 Thro' my fair realms, you prove full well 
 The falfhood of the tale they tell." 
 
 Her cheeks in crimfon blulhes dyed, 
 The heav'n-born Virgin thus reply'd : 
 
 " Bright Genius of the happieft ifle, 
 That lives in heav'n's aufpicious fmile ; 
 Ah ! wonder not, that, thus careft, 
 I leave the manfions of the bleft ; 
 Delighted thro' thy realms to rove ; 
 For Love, thou knovv'ft, engages Love. 
 
 And
 
 POEMS, 169 
 
 And wherefoe'er I pafs along, 
 In private or amidft the throng, 
 Whether the palace of the great 
 I vifit, or the humbler feat ; 
 A pleafing welcome ftill attends, 
 And all rejoice to be my friends ! 
 Thus I diffufe my comforts round, 
 And offer balm to ev'ry wound : 
 Thus univerfal good fupply, 
 And wipe the tear from every eye !" 
 
 " Ah no, the Genius fmiling faid, 
 I faw but now, immortal Maid, 
 The tender tears in plenty flow 
 (Tears drawn by Pity and by you !) 
 From her fair eyes, whom, at firft look, 
 I frankly own that I miftook 
 For you yourfelf } though pleas'd to fee 
 'Twas one fo near and dear to me." 
 
 " I know her well, (the Grace rejoin'd) 
 My filler, Pity, form'd her mind ; 
 She long has our familiar been : 
 -'Tis H***'s countefs, that you mean. 
 I know the place, the time I know, 
 'Twas at my favourite houfe below : 
 Where many a bright and noble eye 
 Have paid their debt to Charity : 
 Where e'en your Prince *, you muft confcfj, 
 Touch'd with the tender foft diftrefs, 
 
 * Prince Edward, who was at the chatel t th fame time, witn 
 /evsra! other of the nobility. 
 
 Z Cou'd.
 
 i-o P O E M 9. 
 
 Cou'd not refrain the melting tear, 
 But own'd, that I indeed liv'd there !" 
 " Yes, Charity with loftier tone, 
 Britannia's genius then went on j 
 That prince I call with pleafure mine, 
 The more, my friend^ as he is thine ! 
 His brother too, (Thou know'ft him well. 
 What need for me his worth to tell?) 
 Thy Patron * mines ! and long will be 
 (If heav'n indulge or thee or me) 
 The friend, the guardian, the defence, 
 Of Briton, virtue, innocence 1 
 *' Under his illuftrious reign, 
 " Miftrefs of the fubjeft main, 
 " Glory mall my fails unfurl ; 
 " Courage mall my thunders hurl ; 
 " Peace at home my plains mall blefs ; 
 *' Freedom range with happinefs : 
 Labour his founding anvil ply ; 
 " Through the loom the muttle fly ; 
 < Arts their wreath-crown'd head (hall rear; 
 Virtue their reward mail bear : 
 " Bright religion through the land, 
 '* Pleas'd, mall wave her olive wand ; 
 " Whilft thou, immortal maid, malt be 
 " An undivided friend to me ; 
 '* And fuppliant win th' eternal fmile, 
 " That gives its glory to each ifle." 
 
 * His Royal Highnefs ihe Prince of Wales, our prefent moft 
 gracious Sovereign, has condefcended to become the Patron of that 
 excellent Charity " The Small-Pox Hofpital." 
 
 s o-
 
 P O E M 
 
 I. 
 
 O Sweet Society ! 
 What is living without thee ? 
 Solitude hath oft and long 
 Been the theme of poet's fbng : 
 
 And charming folitude 
 Is exquifitely fair and good ; 
 
 But never, never without thee, 
 Bell boon of heav'n^ O fweet Society I 
 
 II. 
 
 She too, fhe mall have the praife 
 Of my rude, unlabour'd lays : 
 But never to difparage her, 
 Elder-born, and fairer far, 
 
 Divine Society ! 
 
 Jfirft, beft boon of bounteous heav'n, 
 To the lonely mortal giv'n j 
 Who not ev'n in Paradife, 
 While alone, cou'd tafle of blifs : 
 God himfelf the truth confeft, 
 " Man alone cannot be bleft." 
 Woman, dear lovely woman then was giv'n ; 
 And thus Society began, 
 Beit boon of bounteous heav'n!, 
 
 Z 2 HI. Place
 
 POEMS, 
 
 w. 
 
 Place me on Gallia's fouthern plain, 
 Where fpring and health for ever reign ; 
 To foft Italia's hofom bear, 
 Where fummer revels all the year : 
 Be every fruit of lufcious tafte 
 On my plenteous table plac'd ; 
 Wine of ev'ry clime afford, 
 Oldeft date, and chojceft hoard : 
 Ev'ry daintieft cate fupply 
 Wifh of niceil luxury : 
 Fountains bubble at my feet ; 
 Mufic murmur, foft and fweet : 
 Yet, doom'd thefe joys alone to prove, 
 Without the nymph, I woe and love, 
 
 Divine Society! 
 
 Thefe, and more wou'd I defpife 
 For northern funs, and cloudy ikies; 
 For herbs, and olives, meaneft cheer J 
 Let but the nymph J love be there, 
 
 Oh beft Society ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 Lead me, nymph of graceful meiu, 
 Lead me to the fbcial train ; 
 Who, in converfe free and gay, 
 Pafs the jocund hours away; 
 Who, with unaffected, eale 
 Pleafing, ftudy all to pleafe ! 
 
 Let
 
 POEMS. J7i 
 
 Let good ienfe the fire be there, 
 Solid fenfe, with manly air : 
 There be decency, his bride, 
 Sweet good-nature by her fide ; 
 With politenefs, welcome gueft, 
 Lovely female, richly dreil. 
 Science too, the grave, mall come, 
 Deeply learn'd from Greece and Rome : 
 And all the arts mail take a place, 
 Seated by them ev'ry grace. 
 Nor by any means exclude 
 Dear religion, ^tnild and good ; 
 On whofe heav'nly brow is feen 
 Peace celefHal and ferene. 
 
 V. 
 
 So juftly what belov'd 
 As converfe, thus improving and improv'd, 
 Dear focial intercourse! 
 
 Let me but happy be, 
 
 Sweet nymph, with love, with friendmip, and 
 with thee, 
 
 And fortune do her worft ! 
 And when of thee I've had my fill, 
 All unperceiv'd away I'll fteal 
 To dufky grove, or filent wood, 
 
 To mufe and walk 
 
 In fober talk 
 
 With heav'nly-penfive folitude ! 
 Then mall reafon plume her wings ; 
 Then, foaring to the king of kings, 
 
 Devotion's
 
 1 74 P O E M 
 
 Devotion's eye and voice fhall rife ; 
 Thankful for interchanged joys ; 
 Pleafmg thus alike, and good ; 
 Society and folitude ! 
 
 VI, 
 
 Thus my mind repaired and chearfuly 
 
 Smiling will I hafte again 
 To the blifs of converfation, 
 
 To the bufy hum of men! 
 Thankful there for each enjoyment, 
 
 Pleas'd my part in life I'll fill ; 
 Joy diffufmg, while poflefling, 
 
 Bleft the moft, by bleffing ftill. 
 Thankful thus for each enjoyment 
 
 By the hand of heav'n beftow'd, 
 Innocence, the feaft approving, 
 
 All I'll tafte ; for all are good. 
 
 THE
 
 POEMS. 175 
 
 THE C U C K O W._ 
 
 IN a mighty great hurry, the more for he thought 
 That fomething to give us much pleafure he brought, 
 OurPeter approach'd with a bow and a word, 
 " I have brought you a rarity, madam, a bird 
 " A cuckow, quite fine I have juft knock'd it down : 
 " Sec the wound on its back ! It is worth half a crown. 
 ' * Pleafe to take it," quoth he, and a fimper put on, 
 Plainly fpoke, what a feat, he fuppos'd, he had done. 
 
 With a tear in her eye MOLLY feiz'd the poor flave, 
 And a ftroke and a kifs to the flutterer gave. 
 Then to Peter, aftounded, " thou cruel, faid me, 
 Expeft nor reward, nor applaufes from me ; 
 What injury, pray, had this innocent done, ; 
 
 That thus thou Ihou'd'ft treat it ? I pr'ythee begone; 
 Learn, learn more humanity : think what a fhame, 
 At once a poor bird to enflave and to maim ! 
 Pretty rogue, perhaps perch'd on fome favourite tree, 
 Thy lonely mate droops, and fits longing for thee ! 
 And ah ! were it not for this horrible blow, 
 Wing'd with comfort and liberty ftrait fhou'd'ft thou go : 
 Bat I'll try to relieve thee, fweet bird, and difmifsr " 
 And me ftrok'd it again, gave a tear and a kifs : 
 Then her maidens croudround with much hurry and care, 
 And bafket, and flannel, and fpirits prepare 
 While Peter fneak'd off but was heard to complain, 
 That oft our beft efforts to pleafe are in vain ! 
 
 Tho' fad was the moral, for him it was good. 
 For myfelf, the tranfadlion with rapture I view'd : 
 For oh ! my MARIA, what blifs muft be mine, 
 To reign the fole lord in a bofom like thine !
 
 176 POEMS. 
 
 THE APOLOGY. 
 
 TO MISS I T. 
 
 BREAK my word,- fweet nymph with thee-* 
 Juftly may'ft thou be fevere : 
 But ere pafs'd the fentence be, 
 My defence vouchfafe to hear. 
 
 Where the young and gay refort, 
 
 All the purpofe is to pleafe ; 
 There delight, her fmiling court, 
 
 Holds with love* and health and eale. 
 
 Moping, melancholy care* 
 
 Languid, heart-depreifing pain) 
 Never Aife fhould enter there, 
 
 Sad and fable-fuited train ! 
 
 Grown with thefe familiar late, 
 
 Complaifant they will not be: 
 Nor their fierce attacks abate, 
 
 I -t, tho' chartn'd by thee ! 
 
 Why then, when my gladfome heart, 
 
 To delight rejoices moil : 
 Shou'd I give a moment's fmart, 
 
 When the power to pleafe is loft ? 
 
 Deem
 
 POEMS. 177 
 
 Deem not therefore, fair one bleft 
 
 With a form which fpeaks thy mind ; 
 Deem not this too feeling breaft, 
 
 Senfelefs, or to beauty blind ! 
 
 From the raptures when I flee 
 
 Of fociety like thine ; 
 Gentle fenfibility 
 
 Owns the fault is never mine ! 
 
 A a
 
 178 POEMS. 
 
 A SECOND APOLOGY. 
 
 TO MISS I T. 
 
 YOU tell me I flatter indeed you are wrong 
 But hear my apology, once more in fong. 
 
 Very blind, my dear I 1, needs muft you be, 
 
 Not the charms of your elegant perfon to fee : 
 And we, your afTociates, muft ftill be more blind, 
 Not to fee in your perfon a draught of your mind. 
 
 But remember, fair daughter of fofteft delight, 
 The chat which we held in the rooms t'other night: * 
 When we noted, how fome above others are bleft 
 With the lovelieft form, and moft fenfible breaft ; 
 A form, which delights every eye that furveys, 
 And a breaft, where each paffion benevolence fways. 1 
 
 Butthefe, tho* endowments we highly mou'd prize, 
 Will raife no vain pride in the heart of the wife : 
 For who can be vain, to his portion that fall 
 Superior gifts from the giver of all ? 
 No ; the fenfe of a God to his creature more kind, 
 Exalts not, but humbles a rational mind. 
 
 When therefore* fweet maid, I beftow the due praife 
 On your perfon and mind, in fmcere but rude lays ; 
 To virtue exalted I roufe by my ftrain, 
 Not flatter with falfehood, or teach to be vain : 
 
 * This was written at a publick place* 
 
 You're
 
 POEM S. , 79 
 
 You're handfome you're fenfible- humane and good: 
 But whofe is the merit? oh, give it to GOD ! 
 
 Becaufe of the higheft perfections pofleft, 
 
 More humble are angels, and therefore more blefl : 
 
 Know then, my fair I 1, know and adore 
 
 If bleft like the angels ; like them you owe more : 
 So follow their pattern ; and thus to outfhine 
 In goodnefs, as much as in form, will be thine. 
 
 A az ON
 
 i8o POEMS. 
 
 ON SEEING AN OLD MAN, BEGGING 
 OPPOSITE AN INN AT HOUNSLOW. 
 
 I. 
 
 AH me! behold! where, trembling, palfied, poor, 
 Bent down with years, yon aged father ilands ! 
 Plac'd by the public-way, his lips implore 
 A fcanty gift from pafling pitying hands ! 
 See, while whirling carelefs by 
 Pompous equipages fly, 
 From his bald head, as it makes, 
 His wither'd hand the covering takes ; 
 Holds it forth, and humbly fues, 
 " Oh, for mercy don't refufe, 
 " From your plenty to beftow 
 " Mite on age deprefs'd with woe ! 
 < c Seventy years have left me here, 
 ' Friendlefs, helplefs, weak, and bare; 
 " Mercy, tender mercy mow 
 <* Upon age deprefs'd with woe !" 
 
 II. 
 
 Old fire ! Thou need'ft not a(k of me, 
 
 I have an heart which feels for thee ! 
 
 Feels for myfelf, and for my kind, 
 
 While fad reflection fills my mind ! 
 
 After a life of feventy years, 
 
 In labour fpent, and fraught with cares ; 
 
 Thus doth the toilfome journey end, 
 
 With lofs of ftrength, fupport, and friend L
 
 POEMS. 181 
 
 III. 
 
 Thou, gracious GOD ! whofe works all-bounteous prove 
 
 Thy care paternal of the human race, 
 Teach me the tokens of thy general love, 
 In fuch an objedl teach me, Lord ! to trace. 
 Hail IMMORTALITY ! I fee 
 Its ample proof, old fire ! in thee. 
 Hail IMMORTALITY ! man's pride! 
 " The God, the God is juftify'd ! 
 Or age, or pain, or want attend 
 The mortal at his journey's end, 
 Swift mail a mighty change enfue : 
 Such miracles the grave can do ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 Yet muft the mind for realms of blifs be meet, 
 
 Nor foul or fordid thoughts incruft it o'er. 
 How hard for thofe to fcape, whofe creeping feet 
 
 Bear them to beg vile alms from door to door ! 
 Some ftates there are fo wretched I admire 
 
 How human nature can the weight fuflain ! 
 But quench'd in fuch is that celeftial fire, 
 
 Which gives the generous heart its honeft pain. 
 Then, hear me, heav'n! whate'er of ills befal, 
 
 Biefs'd independence grant me to maintain ; 
 Come age, with all its woes, I'll bear them all, 
 
 Nor ever impious at thy will complain ! 
 But take not, never from me take 
 The heart which loves to feel and akc, 
 
 Ake
 
 i8z POEMS. 
 
 Ake at forrow's fore diftrefs, 
 Feel, as quick to aid and blefs ! 
 Never to my pow'r deny 
 Means, the wretched to fupply : 
 Never from my foul remove 
 The luxury of Chriftian love ! 
 Then, what thou wilt, or take or give; 
 For this, this, only, is to live. 
 
 TO
 
 POEMS. 183 
 
 TO MISS F**R 
 
 WHEN I think, my dear F**R, how rarely we find 
 For friendfhip all proper endowments of mind ; 
 When 1 fee, with what groveling profpe&s in view, 
 Human creatures felf-intereft, unceafing, purfue j 
 A friend, bofom friend, as belov'd as fmcere, 
 Muft ever the greateft of wonders appear ! 
 But of wonders, if greateft, it muft be confefs'd, 
 That the bleffing's as great, when it can be poflefs'd : 
 For thence fuch fenfations, fuch high pleafures flow, 
 As mean hearts ne'er dream of, as bad hearts ne'er know. 
 
 Go on then, dear creature, increafe in your love; 
 Your friendihip which, heart and pen, fee, I ap- 
 prove 
 
 Vour friendfhip to her, my lov'd partner and bride, 
 Whofe worth you have known, and whofe truth you 
 
 have try'd. 
 
 Go on, well affur'd, that the faith you exprefs, 
 Will gain, by exertion, a conftant increafe; 
 Till your hearts, all refin'd, for thofe regions are meet, 
 Where never fhall enter chagrin or deceit ; 
 Where parting or abfence mall never be known, 
 The cynic's mean jeft, or the father's Hern frown ! 
 But, for evils like thefe, while on earth you remain, 
 Expeft them, nay, welcome them, do not complain : 
 They're the terms of our being ; a tax, which all they, 
 Whofe fouls and whofe pleafures are godlike, muft pay. 
 And who, for fuch gifts, would not pay them with glee? 
 Here, take them, ye cenfurers, take them from me ! 
 
 While
 
 184 POEMS. 
 
 While my carnage rolls lightly along the fmooth road, 
 My pence at the turnpike are freely beftow'd *. 
 This tax, YOU, with pleafure, my dear, may lay down, 
 Whom many high bleffings, dilHnguiming, crown : 
 But two are in chief the beft heaven could fend 
 A FRIEND, and a HEART, which can relifh that friend: 
 That friend, whofe warm heart is fo much of your own, 
 That fometimes I think your dear fouls are but one ! 
 So fenfible each, that you both feel too much, 
 Like the plant, which fhrinks back at the gentleft touch. 
 Oh both, in fuch dearth of fmcerity, bleft, 
 To have found for each other fo focial a breaft ! 
 Thrice happy in friendfhip! which, while I admire, 
 Let me breathe the foft wifti, and indulge the defire; 
 " Be my heart with your hearts in triple league ty'd; 
 *' And let death, no, not death the fweet union di- 
 " vide." 
 
 * Written on a journey, in a carriage. 
 
 SACRED
 
 POEMS. 185 
 
 SACRED TO HUMANITY. 
 
 HOW much one good, well-natur'd deed 
 Exhilarates the mind ! 
 Self-love fhould prompt each human heart 
 
 To ftudy to be kind ! 
 Remembrance on a little aft 
 
 Will always fmiling look, 
 Which, though 'twas ufeful and humane> 
 
 Small coft and labour took. 
 With lov'd MARIA by his fide, 
 
 As happy as a king, 
 See! chearful WILLIAM fmiling ride, 
 
 To tafte the balmy fpring. 
 Befide earl TIL KEY'S park they rode, 
 
 Earl TILNEY'S, grand and gay ! 
 When lo ! within the pales they fpy'd 
 
 A palmer, poor and gray! 
 Though aided by his oaken ftaff, 
 
 His feeble knees did bow: 
 Fatigue, and fad anxiety 
 
 Were painted on his brow ! 
 Clofe by his fide his aged dame 
 
 Sollicitoufly trod : 
 While, lefs concern'd, their little boy 
 
 Came tripping o'er the fod ; 
 He, carelefs of the wilder'd way, 
 
 Which caus'd his parents' woe, 
 Whittled, and play'd with fportive Tray, 
 
 Fqr Tray muft with them go! 
 
 B b Our
 
 iS6 POEMS. 
 
 Our travellers the aged fire 
 
 Difcera'd approaching foon; 
 When ftrait he doff 'd his ruftic hat, 
 
 And fbrait he begg'd a boon : 
 ** Wearied we are, and fore befted, 
 
 ** In paths unknown we llray, 
 ' For kindnefs, gentry, fet us right, 
 
 " And guide us in the way : 
 " Bewilder'd in this park, we feek 
 
 " A paflage out in vain ; 
 " And ah! I faint: my feeble feet 
 
 * Will fcarce my weight fuftain ! 
 " Full many a painful mile we've pafs'd 
 
 " Since rofe the morning fun ! 
 < And my poor dame, as well as I, 
 
 " Is now almoil fore-done. 
 " To Eaftern-HAM our courfe we fteer, 
 
 '* A daughter lov'd to fee ; 
 " But where we are, which way to go 
 
 " Who kens fo ill as we !" 
 " Alas, old father, WILLIAM cry'd, 
 
 " Indeed your courfe is wrong ; 
 " And either way from out the park, 
 
 " You'll find the journey long \ n 
 " Woe worth the day what lhall we do? 
 
 " Then figh'd the ancient dame; 
 " For my poor hufhand's wearied quite, 
 
 " So long has he been lame ! 
 " All winter laft, in pain he liv'd, 
 
 " Nor work at all could he! 
 " Such fatal forrow wrought us both 
 
 " His falling from a tree!" 
 
 i" WILLIAM!
 
 POEMS. 187 
 
 " WILIIAM! faid then MARJA quick, 
 
 Full was her gliftening eye ; 
 Can you not help thefe poor old folk ? 
 
 " Do, think, my love, and try !" 
 '* Comfort, faid WILLIAM, ancient pair, 
 
 ' I comfort fee in Time ; 
 ' Juft by the topmoft pales are broke, 
 
 w And o'er them you may climb 1" 
 Alas, for my old ftiffen'd limbs, 
 
 " The aged man reply'd, 
 M They cannot bend, I cannot climb, 
 
 " And I am lame befide !" 
 Then from his horfe did WILLIAM leap> 
 
 As nimbly as a deer ; 
 " Come to the pales, I'll help you o'er, 
 
 " Quoth he, good ancient pair!" 
 He took the old man in his arms, 
 
 And with much ftr.ength and might, 
 His helplefs ftiff limbs dragging drew 
 
 To t'other fide outright. 
 The aged dame he alfo help'd, 
 
 Who fmooth'd her coats, and o'er 
 Was likewife dragg'd full decently, 
 
 As was her fpoufe before. 
 He gave the little boy his hand, 
 
 The fence who lightly fprung : 
 Nor Tray, poor Tray, unaided left ;- 
 
 Shall Fray be left, unfung ! 
 MARIA, with her wonted grace, 
 
 A welcome mite beilow'd ; 
 And WILLIAM, with minuteft care, 
 
 Directed them the road. 
 
 b. 2 So
 
 iS8 POEM S. 
 
 So, forward Tee the neat old pair 
 
 To HAM direft their way, 
 Vv'ith bleffings loading their good friends,. 
 
 Their friends as pleas'd as they. 
 
 GOOD
 
 POEMS. 
 
 GOOD KINGS HAPPY. 
 
 HOW Providence, with tender care 
 Conciliates human things ! 
 And makes felicity the mare 
 
 Of fubjefts, and of kings I 
 Thefe, plac'd in humble rank below, 
 
 Commiferate the great : 
 And well can paint the heavy woe, 
 
 Which always follows ftate ! 
 " They would not have a throne, they cry* 
 
 *' All thorny is a crown : 
 " Thofe, who on flocks contented lie 
 
 " Want not the coftly down !" 
 Happy but furely much they err, 
 
 As worthy kings can tell, 
 Who live but favours to confer 
 
 On fuch as merit well. 
 That ftate is certainly moft bleft, 
 
 Where moft can be beftow'd : 
 Then who can doubt, a king's the beft, 
 
 Whofe heart is great and good ? 
 
 POPU-
 
 j 9 o POEMS. 
 
 POPULARITY. 
 
 A THOUGHT FROM SHZNSTONE. 
 
 WITH a cynical fneer, you inform me, kind fir, 
 And vanity thence, and much weaknefs in- 
 fer, 
 
 " That I love Popularity!" " Man, it is true: 
 " You ftart at my franknefs but, pr'y thee don't you ? 
 Be certain, 'tis planted, the Love in your breaft, 
 * Of the means to engage, tho', perhaps, not poffeft. 
 " You redden- I fmile : but, your pardon, I cry 
 " Allow me a queftion, and make your reply; 
 *' Find you not in your bofom a reigning defire, 
 " To be lov'd by all thofe you efteem and admire; 
 " To be lov'd e'en by all of your nature and kind ?" 
 " Yesfure!" *' POPULARITY then is defin'd. 
 " What more than the love of being lov'd is in this ? 
 " And tell me, fir cynic, is that aught amifs ?'* 
 
 ON
 
 POEMS.. I 9 r 
 
 ON SEEING A SINGLE SWAN ON THE 
 BANKS OF THE AVON. 
 
 THOU art the only Swan I fee, 
 On filver Avon's tide : 
 Sweet Avon, ever may thy ftream 
 
 In peaceful current glide ! 
 For gentle Shakefpeare's youthful feet, 
 
 Befide thee frolic rov'd 
 Sweet Shakefpeare, Avon's fingle fwan, 
 
 By every mufe belov'd. 
 Swim on, thou folitary fwan, 
 
 Sweet Shakefpeare's emblem be, 
 Nor hope to find on Avon's ftream, 
 
 A filver fwan like thee ! 
 But Nature, with exulting pride, 
 
 AiTumes an higher tone ; 
 " No river boafts, I hear her fay, 
 
 " A poet like my own. 
 " Yet, Avon, with his ruftic urn, 
 
 " Muft e'er moft favour'd be; 
 " For, thence he drank, the eldeit child 
 
 " Of Fancy, and of me. 
 
 KQJUA-
 
 192 POEMS. 
 
 E C U A L I T Y. 
 
 Uoth Thomas to William, " thatNumflcull behold! 
 How he lolls in his chariot, embellim'd with. 
 gold! 
 
 *' With his fleek courtly flaves in rich liveries behind : 
 ** Ten thoufand a year, with fo fenfelefs a mind ! 
 " How unequal the Deity things doth difpenfe ! 
 " Such wealth to a wretch without feeling or fenfe!" 
 
 " Hold, Thomas, faid William, too faft you proceed, 
 * You take but one fide of the queftion indeed: 
 " Suppofe me of power to fay to yourfelf, 
 ' Here, prefto, Sir Murmurer, change with that elf: 
 ** Give to him, what I gave you, Refinement of Soul, 
 " Senfe, Feeling, Difcernment, Wit, Tafte, quit the 
 
 whole : 
 ' In an inftant, come take his ten thoufands, vile 
 
 pence 
 
 '* Be him, fuch a dolt, without Feeling or Senfe.'* 
 You hefitate, Tom * My good friend, he reply'd, 
 " I feel, I am wrong ; you have truth on your fide : 
 " The Deity, henceforth, I'll thank and revere 
 " A Mind is a balance for thoufands a year." 
 
 PIOUS
 
 POEMS. igj 
 PIOUS MEMORY. 
 
 OCCASIONED BY SEEING THE CRAVES DRESSED 
 WITH FLOWERS, AT BRECKNOCK IN WALES. 
 
 " TT 7Hither away, fair maid?" I cry'd, 
 
 VV As on old HUNDY'S* bank I lay; 
 
 When, paffing by me, I efpy'd 
 
 A modeft maid in neat array : 
 Upon her red, but well-turn'd arm, 
 
 A little wicker-bafket hung ; 
 With flow'rs of various hues replete, 
 
 And branches ever-green and young : 
 The fragrant bay, the mournful yew, 
 
 The cvprefs, and the box, were there ; 
 The daify py'd, the violet blue, 
 
 The red pink, and the primrofe fair. 
 " And why that baflcet on your arm, 
 
 " With all thofe fragrant fweets fupply'd ?" 
 With bluming look, and penfive air, 
 
 And voice of meeknefs, foft me figh'd, 
 " To yonder church-yard do I hafte 
 
 " To drefs the grave where HENRY fleeps ; 
 " No maid a truer lover bleft, 
 
 " No maid more faithful lover weeps. 
 *' Stern death forbade us to unite, 
 
 " And cut him down with ruthlefs blow : 
 " And now I fpeed to deck his grave, 
 
 " As 'tis our weekly wont to do." 
 
 * A river, which runs by Brecknock, 
 
 Cc The
 
 194 POEMS. 
 
 The melancholy cuftom pleas'd : 
 
 She left me wrapp'd in penfive thought J 
 Ideas, fad, but Toothing, rofe, 
 
 When my flow fteps the church-yard fought. 
 There, kneeling o'er her HENRY'S grave, 
 
 Adorn'd with all her baflcet's ftore, 
 The rural maiden, fighing, hung, 
 
 Her eyes with tender tears ran o'er. 
 She rais'd thofe eyes, fo full of tears, 
 
 Which now and then ftole down her cheek; 
 And much to Heav'n me would have fpoke, 
 
 But forrow would not let her fpeak. 
 Yet, though her thoughts could find no vent, 
 
 There is, who reads each honeft mind ; 
 And the true heart to H i M devote, 
 
 Shall ample fatisfaftion find. 
 Then, gentle maiden ! do not fear, 
 
 Again thy HENRY thou flialt meet: 
 Till then thy tender tafk purfue, 
 
 And ftrew thy greens and flowers fo fweet. 
 And you, whom all around I fee, 
 
 The fame dear, mournful taflt employ : 
 Ye parents, children, hufbands, wives, 
 
 The melancholy blifs enjoy ! 
 Oh ! 'tis delicious to maintain 
 
 Of friends deceas'd a due refpeft! 
 Then bring me flow'm's, bring me greens, 
 
 Strait fhall my parents' grave be deck'd; 
 And many a friend's (whom faithful love 
 
 Still keeps alive within my breaft,) 
 Luxurioufly fad, I'll fee 
 
 With choiceft garlands weekly dreft. 
 
 Come,
 
 POEMS. 19,- 
 
 Come, then, the wicker-bafket bring, 
 
 Come, MEMORY, and with me go! 
 Each lovely flow'r that breathes the fpring, 
 
 AFFECTION'S gentle hand fhall ftrew : 
 A mellow tear of foothing woe 
 
 Shall o'er the graves fpontaneous fall; 
 While Heav'n the heart's full wifli fliall hear, 
 
 And to each other grant us all. 
 
 Cc 2 ODE
 
 I S 6 POEM S. 
 
 ODE 
 
 WRITTEN IN THE WALKS AT BRECKNOCK. 
 TO DR. SqVIRE, LORD BISHOP Of ST. DAVIB's. 
 
 * TJ UDE romantic fhades, and woods, 
 
 .I\. Hanging walks and falling floods t 
 
 " Now, that gufh with foaming pride 
 
 ' Down the rough rock's ileepy fide : 
 
 " Now, that o'er the pebbles play, 
 
 " Winding round your filver way : 
 
 *' Mountains, that in dufky cloud, 
 
 " High your facred fummits fhroud; 
 
 " Whofe variegated fides adorn 
 
 * Fields, and flocks, and groves, and corn, 
 
 " And whited cots, befide the fteep, 
 
 *' Where health and labour fweetly fleep ; 
 
 " Hail! pleafmg fcenes !*' AMYNTAS cry'd, 
 
 As by old HUND Y'S f gurgling fide, 
 
 In carelefs fort his limbs he laid, 
 
 The hoar hill hanging o'er his head. 
 
 His harp of ancient Britifli found lay by; 
 
 He feiz'd it rapturous : o'er the firings 
 His fingers lightly fly, 
 
 While thus his voice refponiive fings : 
 
 f See the foregoing poem, p. 193. 
 
 It.
 
 POEMS. 197 
 
 II. 
 
 < From that celeftial orb, where, thron'd in light, 
 
 " Thou dwell'ft of powers angelic, firft and beft; 
 *' Oh lovely gratitude ! divinely bright, 
 
 " Defcend, in all thy glowing beauties drefs'd. 
 
 " Goddefs come, and oh ! impart 
 
 " All thy ardors to my heart ; 
 
 * TURC my harp, and touch my tongue, 
 
 " Give me melody and fong : 
 
 " Softeft notes and numbers bring, 
 
 " 'Tis PAL^EMON, that I fing : 
 
 '* GRATITUDE, exalt my lays, 
 
 " 'Tis my benefador's praife ! 
 
 III. 
 
 '* But where can or numbers, or notes, 
 
 " Sufficiently pleafing be found, 
 ** To exprefs the due fenfe of his worth, 
 
 " Who my life with fuch comforts hath crown'd? 
 '* He mark'd the fmall flock which I fed, 
 
 " And my diligence gave him delight ; 
 ' Young fhepherd, I'll help you,' he faid, 
 
 And he plac'd me ftill nearer his fight. 
 " Then he gave me fome fheep of my own,- 
 
 " Oh could 1 the charge but improve 1 
 " 'T would mew, how I honour'd his gift,- 
 
 " And would I could merit his love ! 
 
 " But
 
 I 9 8 POEMS. 
 
 " But fooner this brook at my feet 
 
 " Shall ceafe in foft murmurs to flow; 
 " Thefe mountains mail fooner fink down 
 
 " To a plain with the vallies below ; 
 ** Than mute to his praifes, my tongue 
 
 " Shall ceafe his lov'd name to refound ; 
 " Or my heart to his favours, fo priz'd, 
 
 " Be ever infenfible found. 
 
 " Oh! may the GREAT SHEPHERD of all 
 
 " His life with rich bleffings increafe ; 
 ' And fweetly encompafs him round 
 
 " With plenty, with health, and with peace. 
 ' On all that partake of his board, 
 
 " Be happinefs largely beftow'd ; 
 " His wife, be ftill loving and kind; 
 
 ' His children ftill lovely and good ! 
 ' And pafs'd his benevolent days 
 
 * 'Midft elegant labours of love ! 
 ' Oh late, ye good angels, his foul 
 
 " To the feats of the blefled remove!" 
 
 Thus AMYNTAS fung pleas'd to his harp, 
 With BRECON'S white walls in his view : 
 
 Many poets much fweeter you'll find ; 
 No poet more honeft and true. 
 
 MAY, 1764. 
 
 GRA-
 
 POEMS. i 99 
 
 GRATITUDE. AN ODE. 
 
 OCCASIONED BY THE SIGHT OF AN OLD MAN AND 
 WOMAN PASSING BY ON FOOT UP A STEEP HILL, 
 IN A VERY HOT DAY, AS THE AUTHOR WAS 
 TRAVELLING IN AN EASY VEHICLE INTO KENT. 
 
 A Wake, awake, the grateful lyre, 
 With rapture touch each tuneful firing ; 
 SPIT IT OF LOVE, my voke infpire, 
 
 And aid me while the Saviour's praife I fing. 
 Blefled MASTER, whence to me 
 All this rich benignity ! 
 Call'd from nothing, form'd from earth, 
 Thine my being, Thine my birth ; 
 What had I, alas ! to claim ? 
 Freely all thy bounties came! 
 If I wonder, why more free 
 Flow thofe bounties, Lord, to me, 
 Than to thoufand' fons of duft, 
 Who prefer a claim as juft ? 
 All refearches fruitlefs prove; 
 Tis the LORD, and it is Love, 
 
 II.
 
 200 POEMS. 
 
 II. 
 
 Ah me ! Behold yon' brother toil 
 Up that fandy hi/Ps high- length, 
 
 With feeble fteps and flow ; the while 
 
 The thirfty fun-beams drink up all his ftrength ! 
 And his back a burden bears, 
 And his head is white with cares ; 
 On his cheek fits want, all-pale, 
 And his languid eye-balls fail ; 
 Labour, penury, and he 
 Hand in hand, a woeful three! 
 Tottering on her ftaff behind, 
 Weak in body, fad in mind, 
 Lo up Ihe drags her weary frame, 
 His long-approv'd induftrious dame ; 
 Sighing oft as on ftie goes, 
 Revolving all her long life's woes 1 
 
 III. 
 
 Tell me, oh tell, ye aged pair, 
 
 As my flaunting wheels whirl by, 
 Can ye behold me, feated here 
 With other than a difcontented eye ? 
 
 I marvel not ; and, gracious heav'ft, 
 If aught, fure this may be forgiv'n. 
 How they labour! while I ride, 
 Dear affeftion by my fide. 
 
 Full
 
 POEMS. 201 
 
 Full health mantling in my eye, 
 Gladnefs, peace, vivacity ! 
 Soothing friendfhip gives her balm ; 
 Soft content her happy calm : 
 " Plenty wears me at her breaft," 
 " Pleafure lulls my foul to reft." 
 Every hope and fear flows even, 
 From their fource, firm faith in heav'n ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 THRICE HOLY ! whence fuch love to me! 
 
 Thefe, thefe are thine, as well as I : 
 My felknv-chriltians, dear to Thee 
 
 For, ah! for them Thou did'ft not fcorn to die ! 
 
 Let me then the thought improve 
 
 Into Gratitude and Love : 
 
 Come, and make my heart Thy home, 
 
 Humanity, bright cherub, come ; 
 
 And my inmoft foul imprefs 
 
 With fympathetic tendernefs : 
 
 Time prolong but to beftow 
 
 Balm to every brother's woe : 
 
 Love I afk may Love be giv'n ; 
 
 GOD is Love, and Love is heav'n ! 
 
 AUG. 1760. 
 
 Dd VERSES
 
 202 POEMS. 
 
 VERSES 
 
 OCCASIONED BY A PRESENT OF A MOSS ROSE-BUD, 
 FROM MJSS JACKSON OF SOUTTHGATE. 
 
 I, 
 
 TH E flighteft of favours bellow'd by the fair 
 With rapture we take, and with tranfport we wearj 
 But a MOSS-WOVEN ROSE-BUD, ELIZA, from thee, 
 A well-pleafing gift to a monarch would be : 
 Ah! that illnefs, too cruel, forbidding mould ftand. 
 And refufe me the gift from thine own lovely hand 
 
 ir. 
 
 With joy I receive it, with pleafure will view, 
 Reminded of thee by its odour and hue ; 
 " Sweet rofe ! let me tell thee, tho' charming thy bloom, 
 " Tho' thy fragrance exceeds Saba's richeft perfume; 
 " Thy breath to ELIZA'S hath no fragrance in't ; 
 *' And thy bloom is but dull to her cheek's blufhingtint^ 
 
 III. 
 
 " Yet alas ! mjr fair flower, that bloom will decay, 
 ' And all thy fine beauties foon wither away ; 
 " Though pluck'd by HER hand, to whofe touch thoii 
 
 " mult own, 
 
 " Harlh and rough r, the cygnet's moft delicate down : 
 
 " Theq
 
 POEMS. 203 
 
 " Thou too, fnowy hand ; nay, I mean not to preach ; 
 " But the ROSE, lovely moralift! fuffer to teach." 
 
 IV. 
 
 *' Extol not, fond maiden, thy beauties o'er mine, 
 They too are mort-liv'd, and they too muft decline j 
 And fmall in conclulion, the difference appears 
 In the bloom of few days, or the bloom of few years ! 
 But remember a virtue, the ROSE hath to boaft, 
 -~-lts Fragrance remains, when its Beauties are loft," 
 
 Ddz
 
 MORAL PASTORALS. 
 
 THE SON. 
 
 THEGOOD OLD WOMAN. 
 
 THE SERVANT. 
 
 THE MOTHER. 
 
 THE HUSBAND AND WIFE. 
 
 THE BENEVOLENT MAN. 
 
 Aimable en fon air, mais humble dans fon flyle, 
 Doit eclater fans pompe une elegante idylle. 
 Son tour fimple et nai'f n' a rien de faftueux, 
 Et n'aime point Forgueil d'un vers prefomptueux. 
 II faut que fa doceur flate, chatouille, eveille : 
 Et jamais de grands mots n'epouvante Toreille. 
 
 BOILEAV de 1'Art Poetise, Chant. feconJ,
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 r> Ome time fines a learned correfpondent abroad wrote 
 5 me word, that G E S N E R had j uft publifhed fome 
 PASTORAL or RURAL POEMS, upon a plan entirely 
 new ; which, he heard (for my friend had not read 
 them) were of a moral nature ; each poem enforcing 
 fome virtue, and all of them inculcating, from rural 
 incidents, the whole focial fyftem. I was extremely 
 pleafed with the information, and very impatient to fee 
 the poems, which I ordered immediately, expefting high 
 entertainment : for fond as I have always been of Pafto- 
 ral Poetry, it has long appeared to me, that the fubject 
 has been exhaufted, upon the common plan ; and that 
 nothing new can be added, after the great matters, 
 who have excelled fo much ; lavifhing all the graces 
 of poetry upon every rural idea proper for the ufual kind 
 of paftoral fong. There is a time too, I fuppofe, with 
 us all, when the contentions of DA PHNIS and CORY- 
 DON concerning the perfections and beauties of their 
 miftrefies, become lefs important ; and furely it is to 
 be wifhed that other topics, than thofe of love and 
 fong, might employ the paftoral reed. 
 
 Full of thefe ideas, I received G ESN ER's poems. 
 They are before the public, and in our own language : 
 the readers of them, therefore, will eafily imagine that 
 my difappointment was great : for, though there are 
 many pleafing moral allufions in them, yet the gene- 
 rality of them, it muft be coufefled, are puerile ; or at 
 leaft they come not up, either to the character my 
 friend had given, or to the idea I had formed. GESNER 
 feems to think, that, for paftoral fcenes, we muft ne- 
 
 ceflarily
 
 2oS PREFACE. 
 
 ceffarily recur to the golden age : I cannot help dif- 
 agreeing intirely with him in this refpeft : THEOCRI- 
 TUS, VIRGIL, and SPENSER, all excellent in this kind 
 of poetry, recurred not to the golden age. But al- 
 lowing this to be indifpenfably requisite in paftoral 
 poetry, no modern, certainly, mould attempt it : for 
 there is a peculiar difguft arifing in the mind, on pe- 
 rufing the compofition of a modern, in which perpetual 
 allufion is made to that heathen fyftem, which we know 
 the modern utterly explodes : we cannot bear to read 
 of Jupiters, Junos, Pans, Fauns, Dryads, and Meta- 
 morphofes in a GESNER. In a THEOCRITUS or a 
 VIRGIL they do well : the faith and enthufiafm of the 
 writers give a fandlion to their fyftem ; and we can 
 read, without offence, what we know was the creed of 
 their times. 
 
 But I mean not to enter on a large difcuffion of this 
 topic ; it has been abundantly confidered already. 
 PHILLIPS'S, GAY'S, andPopF.'s paftorals called forth the 
 attention of the literati to this matter ; and they who 
 would fee more on the head, may confult the papers 
 and differtations, which appeared at that period, and 
 on that occafion *. 
 
 I am only concerned to lay before the reader a fhort 
 hiftory of what gave rife to the poems, which at 
 prefent offer themfelves for his entertainment. Dif- 
 fatisfied with GESNER, and having my thoughts 
 turned to the fubjedt of paftoral poetry, by means of 
 his book, I fat down to amufe myfelf during an agree- 
 
 * Let me refer particularly to Mr. Johnfon on this Subject. 
 
 RAMBLER, No. xxxvi. &c. 
 
 able
 
 PREFACE. 209 
 
 able recefs, and a few leifure hours, with writing fome 
 paftorals on the plan, which I conceived GESNER 
 had purfued ; and which, if he had purfued, he would 
 utterly have precluded any attempt of mine. I formed 
 my plans, as much from nature and real characters as 
 I could : and feveral incidents in rural life helped me, 
 during my flay in the ifland of THANET *. Laft fum- 
 mer I finifhed four of the paftorals ; which feveral of 
 my friends approving, at their perfuafion I finifhed the 
 other two, during the fame agreeable recefs this year f : 
 and muft freely acknowledge, that from the ideas, 
 which they neceflarily called forth, I received great 
 fatisfadlion, and had no fmall pleafure in the compofi- 
 tion. What GESNER fays of himfelf, I can in a great 
 meafure adopt : " The following poems are the pro- 
 duce of fome of the moft delightful moments of my 
 life : what fituation indeed can be more delightful 
 than that in which our paffions are becalmed, and 
 the adlive imagination tranfports us, from the grofler 
 
 * The incident of the CRADLE, mentioned at the beginning of 
 the fourth paftoral, THE MOTHER ; and the circumftance of the 
 Quarrel at the beginning of the fifth paftoral, THE HUSBAND AND 
 WIFE, were real. The charafter of the Good Shepherd, is drawn 
 from a perfon in that rank of life in Northamptonshire, in whofe 
 converfation, in the fields, the Author hath frequently had great p!ea 
 fure, and whofe praife is beyond all that the paftoral fpeaks of him. 
 In drawing the pidure of THE BENEVOLENT MAN, lam pleafed to 
 fay, that I have fallen fhort of my amiable original : and MY 
 GOOD OLD WOMAN will pardon me, if I have not done her the ju- 
 ftice (he deferves. 
 t 1763. 
 
 E e fcenes
 
 tio PREFACE. 
 
 fcenes of this iron age, to thofe of an age of gold !- 
 Every defcription of the charms of tranquillity and 
 happy repofe, cannot fail to give pleafure to well- 
 tuned minds ; thofe fcenes which poetry borrows from 
 real nature, pleafing us by fo much the more, as 
 they feem to bear fome refemblance to thofe fitua- 
 tions in which we are the moft happy. I fometimes 
 leave the bufy world in difguft, and feek relief in 
 the charms of rural folitude : there the furrounding 
 beauties of nature foon divert the difagreeable fenfa- 
 tions I brought with me. Enraptured by the variegated 
 profpe&s, and infpired with a thoufand agreeable fen- 
 timents, I think myfelf as happy as a fhepherd in the 
 golden age, and as rich as a king." 
 
 My application to bufinefs, during the winter, ge- 
 nerally obliges me, for the recruiting my health and 
 fpirits, to retire for a little time in fummer from all 
 employment ; and during that period, and that period 
 only, I converge with the MUSE, with whom, at other 
 times, feverer and better occupations forbid me any 
 correfpondence. This occafional vifit, therefore, may, 
 I hope, well be pardoned ; and if the prefent perfor- 
 mances, the confequence of fuch a vifit, contain no- 
 thing but what may ferve the caufe of virtue, the moft 
 ^rigid, I may reafonably expeft, will not be offended at 
 them, If all the graces and excellencies of poetry are 
 not found in them, let the candid remember, that the 
 author prefumes not to affedl that high character : 
 a POET is a rare production ; and amongft the number 
 of rhymers and writers, a genuine fon of the Mufes is 
 but feldom to be found: a SHAKESPEARE, a SPENSER, 
 a MILTON, are the comets of an age. 
 
 MORAL
 
 MORAL PASTORALS. 
 
 PASTORAL THE FIRST. 
 
 THE SON. 
 
 THENOT. COLINET. 
 
 WHere SA RUM'S verdant plain extends around, 
 Like the vaft world of waters, without bound ; 
 A turf-built cot, fee ! TH KNOT'S labour form, 
 To guard from fummer's fun, and winter's florm ; 
 Safe fhelter'd there, on ruftic pipe he plays, 
 The while his matter's flock fecurely ftrays : 
 A larger flock to field no matter leads, 
 Nor any flock more careful fhepherd feeds. 
 
 One fummer's day, young COLINET, to fhun 
 The melting fervor of the mid-day fun, 
 In THENOT'S cooly hut refrefhment fought; 
 And THENOT'S heart, with guilefs friendihip fraught, 
 Welcom'd, while room remain'd, each fwain with glee, 
 No fnarling cur in lonely manger, he ! 
 Scarce, on the grafiy feat, reclin'd, his gueft 
 The hut's reviving cool began to tafte, 
 Ere THENOT cried (for what engroffes thought 
 By natural inftinft to the tongue is brought) 
 " Oh COLINET, laft night! But you was there, 
 " At the fad fcene, where clos'd my mafter's care, 
 " To earth-cold bed his aged father giv'n, 
 " Whom his dear love had kept fo long from heav'n." 
 E e 2 COLINET.
 
 212. POEMS. 
 
 C O L I N E T. 
 
 Yes, THENOT, I was there- and, fhepherd, fay 
 Who of the neighbouring hamlets was away ? 
 Nor tho' I wifh'd within my penfive breaft 
 To be young PALAMON, fo good and bleft, . 
 Could I refrain from oft-repeated fighs, 
 Or flop the tears faft trickling from my eyes ! 
 Oh, happy fon!- what different fates we prove ! 
 I'm forc'd, my THENOT from a father's love ; 
 Far from his dear embrace compell'd to roam 
 In queft of daily bread, deny'd at home ! 
 
 THENOT. 
 
 Let not that grieve you, fhepherd well you know 
 What mighty things from fmall beginnings flow : 
 Once, like ourfelves, the mailer, whom we love, 
 His fleecy charge to field for others drove ; 
 Poor was his fire, and " He was forc'd to roam, 
 " Like us, in fearch of daily bread from home :" 
 But, faithful to his truft, he rofe to fame, 
 Which kindly to the 'SQUIRE convey'd his name. 
 Induftrious fhepherds he delights to aid, 
 And foon his tenant our young mailer made. 
 
 Scarce was he fix'd with true affection fraught, 
 Ere his old parents from the dale he brought : 
 Like that young fhepherd, Scripture's book commends, 
 Who call'd from Canaan all his houfe and friends : 
 And like that fhepherd, he by heav'n is crown'd, 
 His crops are plenteous, and his flocks abound. 
 
 C O L I N E T.
 
 POEMS. 213 
 
 C O L I N E T. 
 
 No wonder, THENOT : the commandment fays 
 Who love their parents, mall have happy days : 
 And well the minifter obferv'd laft night, 
 That God in duteous children takes delight ; 
 And feldom fuffers them on earth to prove 
 Want of his favour and paternal love, 
 
 THENOT. 
 
 Is not our PALAMON, a proof, good fwain ? 
 See thofe brave fheep, that cover all the plain ! 
 How white their fleeces, -and what fturdy lambs 
 Skip by the fides of their twin-bearing dams : 
 Look to his herds, what cows fuch udders bear 
 And can you match with his the fattening fleer? 
 See with what flacks his ample yard is crown'd ; 
 Hark, how his barns with conflant flails refound ! 
 Peace in his houfe hath fix'd her dear abode ; 
 His wife is loving, and his children good. 
 On all he hath, methinks I read impreft, 
 ' Thus is the man, who loves his parents, bleftl" 
 i Told I you, Shepherd, how I heard one day, 
 (As by the green-wood fide I chanc'd to flray) 
 His filial bleffings on his fleeping fire ? 
 Oh how his goodnefs did my bofom fire ! 
 
 C O L I N E T. 
 
 Come, let me hear : and I in turn can tell 
 Something, will pleafe my THENOT full as well. 
 
 THENOT.
 
 214 
 
 POEMS. 
 
 T H E N O T. 
 
 Returning home one eve, his fire he found 
 Beneath an oak reclin'd, in fleep profound : 
 The green-fward only was his humble bed, 
 His hand the pillow for his hoary head. 
 With arms acrofs, the fon attentive flood, 
 Now, with fix'd eyes his darling father view'd ; 
 Now rais'd thofe eyes to Him, who rules above, 
 Big with rich tears of gratitude and love ! 
 " Oh thou, faid he, next heav'n rever'd and bleft, 
 " Sweet is thy flumber fweet the good man's reft ! 
 " Thy tottering footfteps hither bent their way, 
 '* In prayer to fpend the ftill decline of day ! 
 " And I, thrice happy, in thofe pray'rs have fhar'd, 
 " Prayers, which all-bounteous heav'n hath ever heard! 
 " Elfe wherefore thus my farm fecurely Hands ? 
 " Whence elfe thofe fertile crops,which crown mylands? " 
 
 ** When, leaning on my arm, with feeble feet 
 " Late pafs'd my fire to (hare th' enlivening heat, 
 " And view the profpeft, which the mid-day yields, 
 " Of retting flocks, rich fruits, and fertile fields, 
 ' Grown grey in peace on thefe lov'd plains, he cry'd, 
 ' May peace for ever on thefe plains refide. 
 * Soon o'er far happier plains ordain'd to rove, 
 Oh, bleft, for ever bleft be thefe I love !' 
 
 " And muft I then that hour afHiled view ? 
 " And bid thee, father, beft of friends, adieu ! 
 " Muft I fo foon ? But in remembrance dear, 
 " O'er thy belov'd remains a tomb I'll rear ; 
 " And ever yearly at thy fhrine will pay 
 *' Due facred honours each returning day ; 
 
 I'll
 
 POEMS. 2i> 
 
 " I'll ftrew my father's grave with flow'rs around, 
 " And from defilement guard the hallovv'd ground; 
 " And which I know will pleafe his fpirit beft, -j 
 " Take each occafion to relieve th' oppreft, C 
 
 " To footh the fad, and make the wretched bleft." j 
 
 He paus'd, and while the tears fpontaneous ran, 
 With fteady gaze, he view'd the good old man : 
 " How at his eafe he fleeps what placid grace 
 " Irradiates foft his venerable face ! 
 " Doubtlefs his virtuous deeds employ his dream? : 
 " O'er all his countenance fuch goodnefs beams ! 
 " Such peace ferene fits thron'd upon his brow : 
 " Oh, bleffing piety ! oh bleft man thou ! 
 " But let me wake thee, lell fome dire difeafe 
 " Spring from this falling dew, and evening breeze." 
 
 Then, {looping down, his cheek he gently preft, 
 His much lov'd fire to raife from dangerous rell : 
 Bleffing his fon, the much lov'd fire arofe, 
 To find at home lefs hazardous repofe *. 
 
 Now, COLINET, in turn, if able, tell 
 Something you think will pleafe me full as well. 
 
 COLINET. 
 
 Not long ago, as happening to pafs by, 
 I faw him and a tear o'ercharg'd my eye : 
 Slow lead his weak old fire to fhare the fun ; 
 Whom, having feated, with much fpeed he run, 
 
 * The author claims no merit from this paflage, but that of 
 a mere verifier : the thought being wholly taken from one of 
 G ESNER's rural poems, call'd MTRTILLIS. 
 
 And
 
 zi6 POEMS. 
 
 And from the houfe a bowl capacious brought 
 With warm refrefhment for his father fraught : 
 With tender care he gave the genial bowl, 
 While every gefture fpoke his filial foul. 
 " Bleftfon, bleft father!" faid I, fad, and figh'd ; 
 And full of thought, acrofs the meadow hied* 
 
 T H E N O T. 
 
 You bring that famous daughter to my thought, 
 Who her old father (as the fermon taught) 
 So long with milk from her own bofom fed, 
 At dungeons dauntlefs, nor by death difmay'd*. 
 And thus affecKonate, if right, I ween 
 In fuch a cafe our matter would have been. 
 
 C O L I N E T. 
 
 Joy to his life but joy will fure attend ; 
 A friend his confcience, and high heav'n a friend : 
 His fons mall blefs him, and his grandfons prove 
 Zealous to copy and repay his love ! 
 
 * At the bottom of the print of the Roman Daughter are in- 
 fcribed thefe lines : 
 
 Hinc pater, hinc natus : charitas me impellit utrinque, 
 Sed prius hanc fervo, gignere quern nequeo. 
 
 ENGLISHED. 
 
 My child and father vital nurture crave, 
 Parental, filial, fondnefs both would fave ; 
 But if, a nurfling, only one can live, 
 I choofe to fave that life I cannot give. P. 
 
 Like
 
 POEM S. zi? 
 
 Like fome majeftic cedar fhall he ftand, 
 
 His numerous branches fpreading o'er the land. 
 
 And, oh ! might COL i NET but hope to trace 
 
 His bleft example, though with diftant pace ; 
 
 Might he but hope his fire again to fee, 
 
 And tend his wants, good PA LA WON, like thee ! 
 
 But, filly fhepherd-boy, thy wifh how vainr 
 
 Who fcarce can'ft food and forry raiment gain ! 
 
 T H E N O T. 
 Grieve not for that, young fwain ; the GOD, v/hpfe 
 
 ways 
 
 Are wife and wonderous, by ftrange means can raife : 
 Bear but an honeft heart, and do thy beft, 
 And to the fovereign Ihepherd leave the reft! 
 I too could wifli, perchance, and make complaint ; 
 But there's no jewel, COLIN, like content. 
 
 Thus grateful THE NOT fung his matter's fame r 
 When THYRSIS to the hut with CUDDY came : 
 Lads, ikill'd in fmging both : they took their feat, 
 And chear'd the ihepherds with their ditties fweej. 
 
 Ff PASTORAL
 
 -ig P O E M S. 
 
 PASTORAL THE SECOND. 
 
 THE GOOD OLD WOMAN. 
 
 SUSAN. LUCY. 
 
 THE fun declin'd; and ruddy milk-maids found* 
 Their evening notice rural ESHER round, 
 Beating their cleanly pails, to field they go, 
 And well the pleafing fign their partners know : 
 Oft at the ftile they wait, and clank the pail ; 
 And faithful Ihepherds ne'er are known to fail. 
 
 It chaac'd one evening SUSAN of the dell, 
 SUSAN mid'ft ESHER'S maids who bore the bell, 
 Later than ufual, by fome chance delay'd, 
 Tripp'd it alone to milking o'er the mead : 
 Rare hap fince, anxious, every fhepherd ftrove 
 To walk with SUSAN, and engage her love : 
 For the fair features of her modeft face, 
 Her mape and ftin were but her meaneft grace ; 
 Though face more fair ne'er gladden'd fhepherd's fight, 
 A fhape more taper, or a flcin more white : 
 But, more attracting far, the maid poffeft 
 A heart fo tender in her gentle breaft, 
 So fweet her manners, and fo free from guile, 
 Such foft good-nature fpoke in every fmile, 
 
 * It is a common cuftom, in many country villages, for tbe 
 milk-maid;, when they go a milking, to fummon their compa- 
 nions, by beating a kind of tat-too on their pails with their /kim- 
 ming-difhes. 
 
 So
 
 POEMS. 219 
 
 So much me fought to comfort, pleafe and aid, 
 That old and young alike efleem'd the maid. 
 And ever, as me fmiling pafs'd along, 
 This was the language of each heart and tongue ; 
 "Be bleft, dear SUSAN! may our village fee 
 *' Another GOOD OLD WOMAN live in thee !" 
 For through the village was her grand-dame knowYi 
 More by this appellation, than her own ; 
 By all, with reverence lov'd : and happy SUB 
 Each truth important from her leflbns drew. 
 
 As to the brook me came, which murmuring leads 
 Its winding current through the fremen'd meads, 
 Juft on the bridge me LUCY met whofe care 
 Her eye and cheek too fpeakingly declare ! 
 For haplefs LUCY, with fad forrow ftrove 
 To banifh from her heart a worthlefs love. 
 
 " Ah LUCY, SUSAN cried, confefs the truth ; 
 "' Knit you thofe ftockings for fome. favourite youth ?" 
 For then did LUCY'S careful hands compofe 
 From the beft yarn, a pair of milk-white hofe. 
 
 LUCY. 
 
 No, SUSAN ! no, let happier girls approv* 
 By pleafing gifts their well-accepted love : 
 Your LUCY no fuch gentle lot enjoys ; 
 Her hands not LOVE, but GRATITUDE employs. 
 
 SUSAN. 
 
 Oh fweet employ! for what can make us bleft, 
 Like the good feelings of the grateful bread ? 
 Love has its joys, and, LUCY, it has pains ; 
 But Love, with Gratitude triumphant reigns. 
 
 F f ^ Your
 
 220 POEMS. 
 
 Your work is neat the yarn, ftrong, white and 
 
 clean : 
 But fay, for whom do you this prefent mean ? 
 
 LUCY. 
 
 For her, whofe kind advice and tender care 
 Preferv'd me from deftruftion's artful 'fnare ; 
 From that vile fhepherd, who, infidious, ilrove 
 Wedded to win me to a wedded love ! 
 Ah, hard of heart, and cruel to deceive j 
 And fimple I, fo quickly to believe ! 
 You know the tale and therefore can divine 
 For whom this little tribute I defign 
 By far too mean : a better could I give, 
 A better far, you know, fhe mould receive. 
 But fooner mail this river backward run, 
 And fooner where he fets, mail rife the fun j 
 Sooner thefe Iheep (hall change their wool for hair, 
 And thofe fweet lambs, like wolves, their mothers tear ; 
 Than ever LUCY'S heart forgetful prove 
 Of all our GOOD OLD WOMAN'S care and love ! 
 
 SUSAN. 
 
 You cannot wonder, Lucy, that I hear, 
 With joy, the praifes of a friend fo dear : 
 But truth it is, fhe lives on every tongue, 
 Alike the fav'rite of the old and young. 
 
 LUCY. 
 
 What marvel, SUSAN, that the old revere 
 Wifdom, which dignifies the hoary hair? 
 
 Goodnefs
 
 POEM S. 221 
 
 Goodnffs unfeign'd, which vice itfelf might charm. 
 And piety, which coldeft hearts would warm. 
 What marvel, that the young admiring fee 
 Youth's fweetnefs, mix'd with age's gravity ? 
 Such tender care their pleafures to encreafe ; 
 Pleafures compleat of innocence and peace: 
 Such anxious zeal, thofe dangerous paths to mow* 
 Which, feeming lovely, lead to certain woe ! 
 
 SUSAN. 
 
 Remembers not my LUCY well the day 
 When you all chofe me lady of the May; 
 How to our fports me came, with fmiling face. 
 And, pleas'd to view our paftime, took her place? 
 Her prefence joy diffus'd : the Ihepherds Itrove 
 Who molt mould win her notice and her love : 
 The maidens danc'd with rapture in her fight ; 
 To gain her notice was to gain delight : 
 How high our mirth ! and yet how decent all ! 
 Not one foul word ev'n CORNISH NED let fall ! 
 What pow'r has genuine goodnefs ! and you know, 
 When from the gladfome plain me rofe to go, 
 All round her came, and thanks and bleffings fhed, 
 Innumerous, on her ancient pious head : 
 While thus me, tenderly, herfelf exprefs'd, 
 " Children, farewell : be innocent and bleit !" 
 
 LUCY. 
 
 In age, how rarely, SUSAN, do we find 
 Thefe pleafing qualities fo fweetly join'd! 
 Too oft morofenefs dwells with wrinkled care, 
 Envying thofe pleafures it no more can mare > 
 
 Old
 
 S822 POEMS. 
 
 Old MOPSA mews it, whofe ill-boding tongue 
 For ever croaks, that all we do is wrong 
 Malevolent and harm, you hear her praife 
 Times which are paft, and cenfure prefent days. 
 Ah how unlike 1 No fentiments fevere 
 From your good grand-dame on the age we hear : 
 Unlefs perchance fome folly to explode, 
 To guard from vice, or to inculcate good, 
 Tales of pail times me tells ; which old and young, 
 Attentive hear, nor ever think too long. 
 Well Let me own, that nothing can engage 
 My heart and love, like wife and chearful age ! 
 
 SUSAN. 
 
 Then, then for ever in my LUCY'S heart 
 Muft my lov'd mother claim an ample part ; 
 Her wifdom all the hamlets round confefs ; 
 Your own experience, LUCY, fpeaks no lefs : 
 Nay, iigh not, maiden, but rejoice to think 
 Her counfel fav'd you from deftruclion's brink : 
 Learn chearfulnefs from her ; and learn the way 
 By which ferene me regulates each day. 
 To GOD her firft, her earlieft duty giv'n, 
 Each hour glides on, dependent upon heav'n : 
 Each focial office happily difcharg'd, 
 To all the world her heart humane enlarg'd, 
 She lives to blefs, far as her pow'r extends, 
 The beft of Chriftians, and the firft of friends. 
 
 LUCY. 
 
 Yes, SUSAN, yes, I know how me imparts 
 The balm of comfort to affli&ed hearts : 
 
 I know
 
 POEMS. 223 
 
 I know with what delight fhe brings relief 
 To beds of ficknefs, and the houfe of grief : 
 When late the rot confum'd our flocks around, 
 When juft before the murrain fpread the groun4 
 With carcafes of cattle ftrangely dead ! 
 And ev'ry farmer hung his drooping head : 
 Remember, how from houfe to houfe fhe went, 
 Confoling all, and minift'ring content : 
 That to the ftroke of Providence refign'd, 
 A murmurer 'mongft us it was hard to find ! 
 Ah bleft good woman ! and for private deeds, 
 How much her merit all our praife exceeds ! 
 I faw her enter yefterday the door, 
 Where lies unhappy LOB BIN, fick, and poor: 
 My heart rejoic'd if envious I could be, 
 SUSAN, of girls I moft mould envy thee! 
 
 SUSAN. 
 
 Much am I bleft, my LUCY : may I prove 
 Worthy the dear example which I love! 
 With fteps, howe'er unequal, may I tread 
 The peaceful paths, where fhe delights to lead ! 
 And if But fhepherds flatter, and to me 
 They've learn'd, no flattery can fo welcome be-- 
 Yet if my PERSON any femblance bears, 
 Oh may my MIND and DEEDS refemble hers! 
 
 But, on this theme, forget I time and place, 
 And fee, the evening fun declines apace : 
 She'll think me long: I muft to field away- 
 
 L U C Y. 
 
 Let me not caufe her pain, or urge your flay, 
 Tho' more, much more, methinks I had to fay. 
 
 1
 
 22 4 POEM S. 
 
 But with my prefent I'll to-morrow come, 
 'Twill then be finifh'd ; and you'll be at home? 
 Our converfation fo we may renew 
 Your hand, dear SUSAN beft of girls adieu ! 
 
 God blefs my deareft LUCY, SUSAN cry'd ; 
 Then, Trailing, crofs'd the bridge, and field-ward hy'd. 
 
 PASTORAL
 
 POEMS. 22 .. 
 
 PASTORAL THE THIRD. 
 
 THE SERVANT. 
 
 LOBBIN. PERIGOT. 
 
 AH PERIGOT, my lad, why ftand you here? 
 Thus leaning on your crook, and full of care. 
 Come doff your doublet, take your bell array, 
 Make hafte, and fliare the paftime of the day. 
 
 PERIGOT. 
 
 See, LOBBIN, what a numerous flock I keep; 
 And fee, how much the flies torment the fheep : 
 They gad about fo much, that Tray and I 
 Have work enough all day to keep them nigh : 
 And almoft every minute, as you view, 
 Look there a plague on that old black-fac'd ewe, 
 She always leads them wrong: hark fetch 'em, 
 
 Tray: 
 
 I cannot keep them from the wheat away. 
 Oh that the time of harveft were but come, 
 Then might I fit at eafe, and fee them roam ! 
 
 LOBBIN. 
 
 Phoh ! Shepherd, never mind, they do no harm; 
 Or corn or grafs, 'tis all your matter's farm. 
 What matters which they eat or how they're fed ? 
 Come, come, let's haften to DUKE WILLIAM'S head : 
 Befides the hat at ninepins, all who choofe 
 May run in facks, boy for a pair of fhoes, 
 
 G g New,
 
 22 6 POEMS. 
 
 New, neat's-fkin, and well-nail'd, but, better ftill, 
 Our SURRY DICK has challeng'd KENTISH WILL 
 To try a bout at fingle-ftick, they fay j 
 Then, PERIGOT, what lad would be away? 
 
 P E R I G O T. 
 
 That lad am I ; - for tho' as you can tell 
 At nine-pins few could PERIGOT excel : 
 Tho' well I lov'd our village fports to fhare, 
 The fir ft, in merriment, at wake or fair ; 
 My duty, LOB BIN, now I better know, 
 Than to forfake my charge, and idling go 
 At every call, without my matter's leave, 
 Wafting the moments I can ne'er retrieve ; 
 And bringing home at night the fpend-thrift's part, 
 A muddled head, and difcontented heart. 
 
 L O B B I N. 
 
 Rare maxims truly ! and where got you thefe ? 
 Preach to your fheep, my boy, and talk to trees ! 
 Our fhepherd lads will only laugh to hear 
 A matter's interefts to our fports prefer! 
 That will not LOB BIN, ever : for I trow 
 They to our fports fuch preference will not mew. 
 Then be they pleas'd or not, I'l have my day : 
 For if one will not do, another may. 
 
 PERIGOT. 
 
 Rare maxims too ! but know an honeft fwain 
 Hears and rejects fuch maxims with difdain ! 
 Remember, lad, a faying of your own, 
 " No mofs is gather'd by a rolling ftone :" 
 
 So
 
 POEMS. 227 
 
 So once you told me, with a piteous face, 
 When, wand'ring up and down, from place to place, 
 Your purfe was empty, and your cloaths were naught, 
 And your vain heart was humble, as it ought. 
 Now, fince at ARGOL'S board you live fo well, 
 Your naughty heart again begins to fwell. 
 But, fwain, be careful, or too fure you'll find, 
 You fow the billows, and will reap the wind ! 
 
 L O B B I N. 
 
 Something I reap for on my back I bear 
 Cloaths, full as good as thou didft ever wear : 
 My hat's as fine, my ftockings are not worfe, 
 And here, here's money, grey-beard, in this purfe ! 
 So ceafe your faws : To-day's delights I'll mare; 
 The doubtful morrow for itfelf may care ! 
 
 P E R I G O T. 
 
 Ah filly fwain, and to the future blind, 
 Sure fome black DEMON hath poflefs'd your mind ! 
 For grant tho' LOB BIN, I have doubts and fears, 
 Your honeft hire in that fame purfe appears : 
 Yet what you boaft is all that you poflefs ; 
 And how you long to make that little lefs ! 
 But think, my friend, from fervice if difmift, 
 Where will you live, and how will you fubfift ? 
 Will the old landlord at yon fame DUKE'S HEAD, 
 Who courts your money now, then give you bread ? 
 No, no, be fure, he'll turn you from his door, 
 When once he finds you pennylefs and poor. 
 Or, if by ficknefs to your bed confin'd, 
 What fecret anguim will opprefs your mind, 
 
 Ggz T
 
 2-8 POEMS. 
 
 To view no hofpitable mailer nigh, 
 
 No gentle miitrefs with a pitying eye, 
 
 Anxious their good domeftic to reftore, 
 
 Repaying thus each fervice o'er and o'er. 
 
 Oh pleafing ftate ! how different thine, to moan 
 
 Sick, faint, and poor, neglefted and alone. 
 
 L O B B I N. 
 
 No fancy'd ills, impoffible and vain, 
 Difturb my peace, or give a moment's pain : 
 We mall catch larks, my lad, when fall the flues ; 
 So fave your breath, nor be fo wondrous wife : 
 For, think not, friend, to teach M E what to do ; 
 I can both read and write as well as you. 
 
 P E R I G O T. 
 
 So much the worfe; the pow'r without the will 
 But makes your guilt and folly greater ftill : 
 For read you ne'er fo well, you never look, 
 I know it, LOBBIN, in that HOLY BOOK, 
 Which brings fuch bleffed tidings to our ears, 
 So warms our hopes, and diffipates our fears ! 
 Where we are taught, that, provident o'er all, 
 Rules the dread Sov'reign of the fubjeft ball, 
 A general father ; whofe impartial care 
 Alike the matter and the fervant ftiare : 
 Their lots, tho' different here, the fame their fate 
 In the high manfions of a future ftate ; 
 If firm fidelity they learn to mow 
 In all the duties of their place below. 
 
 Chear*d by this thought, no labours feem fevere 
 Thro' the long watchings of the toilfome year : 
 
 Led
 
 POEMS. 22 
 
 Led by this hope, I live, with conftant eye 
 To Him my mighty mailer in the &y : 
 And humbly ftill endeavour to approve 
 By faithfulnefs on earth, my heav'nly love. 
 Thus pafs I, like a pilgrim, on my way, 
 Hoping for better things fome future day : 
 Like thofe bleft fhepherds, who in tents abode, 
 Strangers on earth, but denizens with GOD ; 
 Who now rejoice, their faith's high end attain'd, 
 With HIM, who not the fhepherd's name difdain'd, 
 HIM, who his chofen flock not only fed, 
 But for that flock oh gracious Shepherd bled! 
 
 L O B B I N. 
 
 Why PERIGOT, my lad, thy flock forfake, 
 And like the cobler DICK, to preaching take ; 
 Get a joint ftool, like his : thou'lt drive a trade, 
 Nor him alone, but thou wilt much exceed 
 The bawling parfon, who, the other day, 
 So long on our wind-mill did fing and preach and pray ! 
 There thou haft learnt this gravity, I trow, -^ 
 
 And rather after him would'it, groaning, go, C 
 
 Than fliare the paflimes at the houfe below. 3 
 
 PERIGOT. 
 
 Spare your vain jibes, for, fhepherd, be it known, 
 I gad not after preachers up and down : 
 Nor time have I, nor need, content to hear, 
 Two fermons every Sabbath thro' the year : 
 And our good vicar But why tell it thee, 
 Who'd'ft rather fleep, than at a fermon be ? 
 
 Well,
 
 230 POEMS. 
 
 Well, well, laugh on: but they who win fliould 
 
 jeft; 
 
 And fure I am, that PERI GOT is bleft 
 Far beyond LOB BIN in his prefent ftate. 
 In future hopes the difference how great ! 
 My matter's love by confidence is fhown, 
 And all his interefts thus become my own : 
 One of his houfhold, his delights I mare ; 
 And feel his pleafure, as I feel his care. 
 Dear are his children ; dearer ftill they prove, 
 As I experience their unartful love : 
 And dearer yet they grow, when pleas'd I find 
 Their gentle mother to my wants fo kind. 
 Connected thus, I aft a focial part, 
 And live a life quite fuited to my heart ! 
 No folitary elf, and here I truft 
 At length to mingle with my native duft : 
 Rejoic'd if, like PETRUCHIO *, who of late 
 In his good matter's houfe refign'd to fate, 
 I too, thrice happy, fhould my matter have, 
 With all his family, attend my grave ; 
 Smiting their breafts, and faying, with a tear, 
 " A good and faithful fervant refteth here." 
 This be my praife ; and for this praife I'll live : 
 Your paftimes, LOBBIN, no fuch joys can give. 
 
 L O B B I N. 
 
 Why, PERIGOT, 'tis truth: you touch my heart; 
 Shepherd, indeed you chufe the better part, 
 
 * See the "Reflexions on Death." Chap. xvi. 
 
 I'll
 
 POEMS. 231 
 
 I'll think to-morrow well of what you fay, 
 But can't forego the pleafures of to-day ! 
 
 Thus, with a laugh, the dolt departing cry'd ; 
 While the good fliepherd fhook his head, and figh'd! 
 
 PASTORAL
 
 cj2 .POEM S. 
 
 PASTORAL THE FOURTH. 
 
 THE MOTHER. 
 
 / G O N T . A R G O L. 
 
 NOW, with their fickles on their fhoulders plac'd, 
 The reapers to the field delighted hafte ; 
 The falling wheat fills each induftrious hand, 
 And the brown Ihocks adorn the laughing land. 
 
 It chanc'd, as JEcox, who, worn out with toil, 
 Sequefter'd lives, in TH A NET'S fertile ifle; 
 Fair ifle, for plenty fam'd, whofe white cliffs round, 
 Roar the wild waves of ocean's realms profound : 
 " Of life meet emblem," oft the fage would cry, 
 Thofe waves when viewing with a thoughtful eye : 
 
 As from his little cot one morn he far'd, 
 To view the labours h no longer fhar'd ; 
 On the wheat- field, with wonder and delight, 
 He faw a pleafing, but unufual fight ; 
 A cradle caught his view ! with eager pace 
 Tho' tottering on his flair", he fought the place ; 
 And with his wither'd hand, flow turn'd afide 
 The humble curtains, where he ftrait efpy'd 
 A little innocent, in {lumber lay'd ! 
 He look'd and fmil'd, and fhook his fnowy head; 
 ' Ah lovely babe, I too am helplefs grown, 
 " Thy ftate, faid he, refembles much my own.'* 
 
 Full of the ills of infancy and age, 
 A thoufand thoughts his bufy mind engage : 
 When, turning at the ftubble's ruftling found, 
 The reaper, ARGOL, juft at hand he found : 
 
 ARGOL,
 
 POEMS. 233 
 
 ARGOL, a fwain of manly fenfe pofTeft, 
 
 Of upright heart, and fympathetic breaft. 
 
 *' ARGOL, faid he, for threefcore years and more 
 
 " My fcythe and fickle in thefe fields I bore ; 
 
 And let me tell thee, lad, but few could claim, 
 
 " For handling either a fuperior fame : 
 
 " But thro' thefe years, if mem'ry fen'es me right, 
 
 " Ne'er faw I in the fields fo fweet a fight ; 
 
 *' Behold that babe ! what innocence is fpread 
 
 " O'er its lov'd face what lively white and red! 
 
 " How came it here, and who the infant keeps, 
 
 " Infenfible of danger, while it fleeps ? 
 
 '* Falfe could a mother prove to fuch a care, 
 
 " Angels themfelves would watch delighted there." 
 
 ARGOL. 
 
 Look, Mooto, 'midft the reapers you farvey 
 A woman bear the burden of the day : 
 Mark how (he toils by true affedlion drawn, 
 The fame to fetting Sun from riiing dawn I 
 In her the mother of the babe you fee 
 Sweet infant, that, and fweeter mother, me : 
 The wife of honeft THYRSIS ; him you know, 
 Who feeds the flock of MYCO there below. 
 
 ^E G O N. 
 
 Then, lovely babe, thy lot is truly bleft, 
 Sleep on fecure ; of mothers thine the beft 1 
 ARGOL, I know her well; and oft employ'd 
 (While greater llrength my feeble frame enjoy'd, 
 And I fo far could walk) a pleafing hour, 
 In their neat cot but now I want the power : 
 
 H h So
 
 254 POEM 3 
 
 So weak I'm grown 'tis time to qnit the ftage ; 
 
 Sad is the burden, fon, of helplefs age! 
 
 And ah, poor babe, what ftorms remain for thee 
 
 To weather out on life's tempeftuous fea ! 
 
 Juft launch'd upon its waves, wild, deep and wide ; 
 
 While I (thank henv'n) almoft in harbour ride ! 
 
 Thy mother's cares, 'tis true, thy courfe will aid; 
 
 But all her cares that dangerous courfe will need. 
 
 A R G O L. 
 
 ^GON, on life whatever perils wait, 
 You know, we fhould not murmur at our ftate : 
 Much reverence and gratitude we owe 
 To Him, who fix'd us in our rank below : 
 And tho' 'tis certain, ftorms and rocks abound 
 In yon wide waters, yet a way is found 
 For ponderous vefTels, which the pilot's hand 
 Safely di reels to ev'ry diftant land. 
 So is it faid, - " if good inftruftions mow 
 " The path of wifdom, where the child mould go; 
 " Early train'd up, and travell'd in the way, 
 " Ne'er from the track deluded will he ftray." 
 And well, we know, ourTHYRSis' careful wife 
 Directs her children in the road of life : 
 You've feen her houfe, and therefore you can tell 
 How much in reading, working, they excel ; 
 How humble and good-manner'd, clean and neat, 
 On THANET'S ifle fuch children you'll not meet. 
 
 & G O N. 
 
 ARCOL, thy words are wife : go on, young fwain, 
 And every day increafc of wifdom gain , 
 
 Age
 
 POEMS. 235 
 
 Age, 'tis its weaknefs full of aches and pains, 
 Thinks of life's numerous evils, and complains. 
 
 I'll tell thee, ARGOL, if each mother ftrove 
 To train her children in their Maker's love ; 
 To teach thofe duties, which their place demands, 
 To give them honeft hearts, and working hands, 
 Like her, whofe little babe lies fleeping here ; 
 Lefs might we then life's vent'rous voyage fear. 
 Yes ; 1 have feen her, with her children round, 
 (And in the fight fereneft pleafure found) 
 Divide their feveral talks with mild command, 
 And give to induftry each little hand ; 
 While me, good mother, caib on each a look, 
 Their fole inftruftrefs or at work, or book : 
 So the fond hen, which to my mind (he brings. 
 Her chickens feeds, and broods beneath her wings. 
 
 In church, for never on a Sabbath-day 
 Is THY RSI s, or his family away, 
 How plealing is the fight ! all neat and clean, 
 Alike are parents and their children feen ; 
 And their behaviour a reproof how true 
 To farmer BROWN'S young loobies in next pew! 
 
 I've wonder'd oft, how this induflrious wife, 
 Amidft the labours of domeftic life, 
 Such time and pains can to her children fpare ; 
 Cloath with fuch neatnefs, teach them with fuch care : 
 While almoft all the cottage bairns around 
 In dirt, and rags, and ignorance are found ! 
 Yet THYRSIS earns not more than ether fv/ains; 
 And tho' (he labours with the utmofl pains, 
 Scanty, at beft, GOD knows, are women's gains. 
 
 H h 2 ARC
 
 236 POEMS. 
 
 A R G O L. 
 
 JEcoK, when anxious, as we ought, to live ; 
 What cannot chearful industry atchieve ? 
 And {hall we doubt, when, for our daily food 
 We ufe thofe means, which Faith pronounces good, 
 That He, who feeds the ravens when they cry, 
 Will not behold us with propitious eye ? 
 If Birds are from our Father's bounty fed, 
 Will He from Children hold their needful bread ? 
 Full of this faith, the cordial of the heart, 
 Our couple firft to heav'n perform their part : 
 At morn and eve the fuppliant knee they bend, 
 While round their little lifping-ones attend : 
 Then, looking ftill to GOD, with chearful eye, 
 To their life's labour gladly they apply. 
 
 'Twas but laft fummer MIR A learn'd to wield 
 The dented fickle in the wheaten field ; 
 A toil too hard for women, as we thought, 
 'Till MARIAN, from the North, the cuttom brought : 
 Soon as (he faw that late the fickle ply, 
 Joyful Ihe cry'd ' J too my ftrength will try : 
 *' The fickle will I take, and do my bell, 
 " My poor endeavours may perchance be bleft : 
 *' 'Twill make me happy bat a mite to earn; 
 * And ev'ry art of induftry I'd learn : 
 " For, fhall myTuyRsis, thro' the painful year, 
 * No refpite know, but toils inceflant bear, 
 " Nor I thofe toils, thofe pleafing toils partake, 
 *' For my fweet babes, and for my hufband's fake I 
 ^ Oh could I, much-lov'd mafter of my heart ! 
 '' In all thy labours bear an equal part ; 
 
 Could.
 
 POEMS. 237 
 
 ** Could I, dear pledges of our faithful love ! 
 
 " For you fuccefsful in my labours prove ; 
 
 " Labours would quickly lofe their name with me, 
 
 " And hardeft toils fmcereft pleafures be ! 
 
 " Bleft hope ! bleft MARIAN, to the field I go, 
 
 " To thee the hope, to thee the art I owe !" 
 
 Thus led by lovely virtue's pure intent, 
 The joyful mother to the reapers went : 
 And fure that GOD, who virtue loves to blefs, 
 Crown'd her approv'd endeavour with fuccefs : 
 For thro' the harveft chearfully ihe wrought, 
 And home more hire than any reaper brought : 
 For fhort of others tho' her ftrength might fall, 
 In application Ihe excell'd them all ! 
 No loit'rer: every moment fhe'd improve; 
 Such is the force of true maternal love ! 
 Now that the harveft is again come round, 
 Again, fair reaper, in the field (he's found : 
 And with her, as you fee, this pretty gueft, 
 Who waits for fuccour from her plenteous breaft : 
 THYRSIS each morn to field the cradle brings ; 
 A nd thus the babe, beneath its mother's wings, 
 Due nourifhnient fupply'd, fecurely fleeps, 
 Uninterrupted, while the matron reaps ! 
 
 JE G O N. 
 
 True mother, who herfelf the food fupplies, 
 The daintier lady to her child denies : 
 By luft, or pride, or folly led aftray, 
 Unnatural more, than monfters of the fea ! 
 Cruel alike both to themfelves and young, 
 Such mothers merit fcorn from ev'ry tongue : 
 
 Why
 
 238 POEMS. 
 
 Why doth the great Creator, wife and good, 
 Fill their fair breafts with fuch falubrious food, 
 That fgod if to their offspring they refufe, 
 And fores and ficknefs before duty chafe ? 
 Oh MIR A, beyond thefe, how art thou bleft, 
 Thy infant preffing fond thy yielding breaft ! 
 With fuch a woman, ARGOL, let me fay, 
 'Tis joy to fhare the labours of the day. 
 Sure, fenfible of this, they all unite 
 To make her toils, deferring mother ! light : 
 Sure, by each namelefs, by each gentle care 
 They mitigate the ills (he needs muft bear ? 
 
 Juft as he fpoke, the frailing mother came, 
 Sweet was her afpeft, and her words the fame : 
 Her tendernefs diffus'd a namelefs grace 
 O'er the fair features of her blooming face, 
 While at the cradle's fide me anxious flood; 
 When the juft-waken'd babe its mother view'dj 
 And, fmiling, with an eager joy, expands, 
 Sweet innocent! its little dimpled hands. 
 With rapt'rous blifs fhe caught it to her breaft, 
 And on the flubble-ground fat down to reft : 
 The crowing infant to the nipple clung, _ 
 While o'er it with fond joy the ravifh'd mother hung ! 
 
 The gocd old man, enchanted with delight, 
 Cry'd, " ARGOL, there, there, ARGOL, is a fight! 
 " Bleft mother ! may thy labours profperous prove : 
 " May all thy children well repay thy love!" 
 More he'd have faid ; but lo ! a tear would ftart, 
 And all his foul rofe throbbing in his heart : 
 The mother, pleas'd, beheld his burden'd eye, 
 And thank'd him with a tear of focial joy. 
 
 PASTORAL
 
 POEMS. 
 
 239 
 
 PASTORAL THE FIFTH. 
 
 THE HUSBAND AND WIFE. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. ELIZA. 
 
 AS, arm in arm, to fcent the fragrant air 
 From blofibm'd beans which evening breezes bear, 
 Fair CHARLOTTE and her friend ELIZA rove, 
 Maids fam'd for beauty both, and form'd for love ; 
 Juft at the village end, with trembling fear, 
 Rough founds contentious, and fhrill cries they hear : 
 Tho* frighted, they advance ; when, painful fight ! 
 They view their neighbour SIMS prepared for fight ; 
 With paffion raging, and by liquor fir'd, 
 The fingle combat furious he defir'd : 
 While, bath'd in tears, his tender wife withftands, 
 And cries, and trembles, as fhe holds his hands ; 
 Her little ftrength well nigh exhaufted, pleads, 
 While her fond heart with racking anguilh bleeds j 
 And, fruitlefs ev'ry winning motive found, 
 Points to their boy, their infant, on the ground ; 
 Pledge of their mutual faith : " Ah, cruel, fee, 
 ' And pity him, if you'll not pity me ! 
 " See, while I hold you, where your baby lies: 
 " Hard-hearted, turn, and view his ftreaming eyes.'* 
 Thus as flie fpoke, he turn'd : an afpedt mild 
 His fierce looks foften'd as he view'd the child : 
 Strait from his eyes the tears paternal ftart, 
 And all the father fill'd his melting heart : 
 Then nature triumph'd; to the child he fprung ; 
 Around his neck the child affrighted clung. 
 
 The
 
 240 POEMS. 
 
 The lovely maidens, at the fight well pleas'd, 
 With zeal humane the foft occafion feiz'd ; 
 And with the weeping wife affiduous join'd 
 To urge each motive which might fix his mind : 
 Nor urg'd in vain ; perfuaded he retreats, 
 While his big heart with varying pafiions beats : 
 And, thoughts of vengeance lab'ring in his breait, 
 He finks, exhaufted, to refreftung reft. 
 
 As now their walk intended they purfue, 
 " Here, CHARLOTTE, with a figh faid BETSY, view, 
 " View, CHARLOTTE, what corroding forrovvs wait 
 " Poor helplefs women in the marriage ftate ! 
 " Alas for us, in ev'ry ftate diftreft, 
 * When marry'd, wretched ; when alone, onbleft l n 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Hard lot, my BETSY : yet Pd rather bear 
 The taunts for ever, which old maidens fhare, 
 Than live enfiav'd throughout a wretched life, 
 The drunkard's, rake's, or tyrant's weeping wife ! 
 
 ELIZA. 
 
 But girls, in our degenerate days, who wed, 
 Muft with fuch vile affociates fhare their bed : 
 So void of principle our youth are grown 
 They ape the manners of the wkked town ! 
 Lords to- their tenants have their vices taught, 
 And fons and fervants have th' infeftion caught. 
 Can they but drink and riot, rake and fight ; 
 They feoff with carelefs fcorn at what is right. 
 
 CHARLOTT2. 

 
 POEMS. 241 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 How great the rife which girls in marriage run ! 
 And yet, hoy/ great their hafte to be undone ! 
 But fure the more the danger which we dare, 
 The greater in our choice ftiou'd be our care. 
 Yet to our fex impartial if we be, 
 We fhall not find them from jufl cenfure free : 
 Were they to virtue conftant in their choice, 
 Gave they their hands, where reafon gives her voice; 
 Were they more nice, diilinguiming, retir'd, 
 The men to emulation wou'd be fir'd ; 
 For they, be fure, will cultivate the arts, 
 They find molt likely to engage our hearts. 
 
 ELIZA. 
 
 I know not this: but, CHARLOTTE, well I know, 
 Men are perfidious, women are not fo : 
 For one bad woman, who fhall faithlefs prove, 
 Or to her marriage faith, or plighted love, 
 An hundred men : tho* yet fo young a maid, 
 I've caufe, you know, their falfehood to upbraid. 
 
 But, CHARLOTTE, fay, fhall I myfelf accufe, 
 Becaufe I liften'd to young WILLIAM'S vows : 
 Becaufe I thought incapable of wrong 
 His heart fo feeming honeft from his tongue? 
 Becaufe 1 gave him all MY heart! falfe fwain, 
 Or pay thy vows, or p'"'e my heart again ! 
 
 I i
 
 242 POEMS. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Fear not, iny BETSY; you will Ihortly find 
 Returning WILLIAM to your wifhes kind: 
 And, bleft with him, a pattern may you prove 
 Of conjugal fidelity and love ! 
 Like that bleft pair, who live at yonder farm 
 Oh how the thoughts of them my bofom warm ! 
 Yes, my dear friend, if, from the former fight, 
 Marriage appears in fables all bedight ; 
 Turn to that pair, in yon dear manfion bleft, 
 And marriage feems of ev'ry ftate the beft ! 
 This happy pair, their fondnefs to exprefs, 
 Labour to build each others happinefs. 
 No feparate joys, no feparate cares they know, 
 But mare in pleafure, as they fhare in woe : 
 Woe! They have none : imparted 'tis no more ; 
 While thus their joys are doubled o'er and o'er. 
 Bleft pair ! your loves with rapture, I review, 
 For fure all Eden is reftor'd to you ! 
 
 ELIZA. 
 
 I wonder not, my CHARLOTTE, you are fir'd,- 
 Who ever knew that pair, and not admir'd? 
 And who cou'd fail the higheft blifs to prove, 
 If fuch an hufband crown'd her faithful love? 
 Whene'er his wife is mention'd, you may fpy 
 Bright fatisfaftion gliften in his eye : 
 Of her perfedlicns with delight he tells ; 
 And on her praife with tongue enraptur'd dwells. 
 
 Where'er
 
 POEMS. 243 
 
 Whene'er he goes to market, or to fair, 
 You never find him idly loit'riag there : 
 Much more in alehoufe, treafuring for his wife 
 Vile drunkennefs at night, and noify ftrife : 
 His bufinefs done, you'll fee him homeward hafte 
 Well knowing that he comes a grateful gueft ; 
 And joy'd to think, within his honeft mind 
 He brings the pleafure, which he's fure to find. 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 While to the hufband juft, my BETSY, pray, 
 To equal merit, equal honour pay : 
 For wives contribute not than hufbands lefs, 
 Sure, my good friend, the marriage Hate to blefs : 
 Oft find we, if good hulbands make good wives, 
 Thefe, in return, reform bad hufbands' lives. 
 But, for our friends, it well may be confeft, 
 If bleft the wife, not lefs the hufband's blefl ; 
 Affectionate and mild you fee her mare 
 One only pleafure, as one only care. 
 Can me but crown her hufband with content, 
 Make light his troubles, or his joys augment; 
 She little heeds for all the world befide ; 
 Fond as at firfl, and as at firft a bride ; 
 A bride in neatnefs, ever nice and clean, 
 The heart me won, ftill ftudious to retain ! 
 And, happy in her hufband's high eiteem, 
 She lives, and thinks, and breathes alone for him ! 
 Ne'er in her hufband's abfence is me found 
 A goflip, tattling all. the village round : 
 
 I i 2 Fomenting
 
 244 POEMS. 
 
 Fomenting ftrife, and making many a foe : 
 Nor runs flie gadding to each fimple (how. 
 By better means his abfence fhe beguiles, 
 By needful bufinefs, and domeftic toils : 
 Caufing with tranfport his big heart to burn, 
 When, pleas'd furveying on his glad return, 
 His decent houmold in fair order dreft ; 
 He clafps his wife delighted to his breaft, 
 Thanks her kind care, and reads in her full eyes, 
 That toils thus recompenc'd are trueft joys ! 
 
 ELIZA. 
 
 Sure this bleftpair, who, "link'dinfriendfhip'stye, 
 Live each for each, as each for each wou'd die" 
 Kind nature form'd to make each other bleft ! 
 Or fure the halves have met for once at leaft !* 
 CHARLOTTE, you know the tale: my WILLIAM'S"! 
 
 lays, 
 When WILLIAM'S verfe could fpeak of BETSY'S ) 
 
 praife, 
 Told it us fweetly once, alas, in better days ! J 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 
 Ah BETSY ! and full oft the halves would meet, 
 Were women in their choice but more difcreet : 
 But if vile avarice or ftrong paffion lead 
 The willing victim to the nuptial bed ; 
 Or if that heart licentious rakes obtain, 
 Which modeft merit fruitlefs ftrives to gain j 
 
 * Alluding to Plato's Notion. 
 
 No
 
 POEMS. 245 
 
 No wonder wedlock is a ftatc accurft; 
 For the beft things corrupted, are the vvorft. 
 Bad men, or fcols, the idiot, or the rake, 
 No woman happy ever yet cou'd make : 
 Nor e'er unhappy, he, whofe manly breaft, 
 With fenfe, with foftnefs, with religion's bleih 
 
 ELIZA. 
 
 Poor women ! 'tis a maxim then with you, 
 That all their forrows to themfelves are due : 
 That neither heav'rt nor man the blame muft bear, 
 The woes of wedlock when they're doom'd to {hare : 
 Oh, CHARLOTTE, you are partial to the men ! 
 Yet freely will I own, not one in ten 
 Of our poor fex fuch miferies would prove, 
 If intereft lefs, and more confulting love. 
 Wretch that (he is, who muft not her defpife, 
 That MACRA, who in arms decrepit lies, 
 (Spring with old winter,) only to be feen 
 Dreft in fine cloaths, the paltry village queen ! 
 
 CHARLOTTE. 
 Scorn to all fuch ! and let all fuch be told, 
 They are but lawful proflitutes for gold: 
 Fools ! all true blifs for fplendor to forego: 
 A life of penance for a day of mow ! 
 Love, of each pleafure the perpetual fpring, 
 True love, my BETS v, is a different thing : 
 The heart's dear union, youth with youth combin'd, 
 Truth meeting truth, and mingling mind with mind! 
 
 Thus
 
 246 POEMS. 
 
 Thus highcft pleafures rife to pure efteem, 
 
 And hence of rapture flows the fparkling ftream ! 
 
 Hence too of virtue wells the living flood, 
 
 For " who, in marriage, in each ftate are good." 
 
 J Tis neighbour WATSON'S faying, and we prize 
 
 Herfayings, BET, for neighbour WATSON'S wife 
 
 And never did ftie know thro' her long life, 
 
 On either fide, a hufband or a wife, 
 
 Who in connubial tendernefs excell'd, 
 
 And yet in other focial duties fail'd. 
 
 , - - ( ' , f 
 
 ELIZA, 
 
 Our neighbours, CHARLOTTE, in the vale bel6w, 
 This pleafmg truth in livelieft colours fliow : 
 For not in marriage do they mine alone, 
 The praife of every virtue is their own : 
 And the fame goodnefs which inclines their bread 
 To make and to preferve each other bleft ; 
 Prompts them alike tofpread their comforts round 3 
 For private good fuch hearts can never bound ! 
 Parents more fond 'twere difficult to firuJ, 
 Or neighbours more folicitoufly kind : 
 Few to their fervants fuch attention give* 
 And none the wretched with more alms relieve ! 
 Then, for Religion, 'tis their joy: One day, 
 Thus with delight, I heard our neighbour fay, 
 " BETSY, we're not afham'd, my wife and I, 
 To kneel together to the throne on high : 
 Thence fprings our bleflings : and be fure, my fair, 
 They cannot fail, who feek for bleffings there : 
 
 But
 
 POEMS. 247 
 
 But they who wed, will curfe their haplefs fate, 
 If HE's defpls'd, who firft ordain'd the Hate." 
 
 Oh facred ftate ! oh bleft connubial love ! 
 In thy fweet train the fmiling virtues move ; 
 All fond to croud, and aft the faireft part, 
 Where truth affeftionate blends heart with heart ! 
 
 Thus as fhe fpoke, her face deep blumes dreft, 
 While all-tumultuous throbb'd her panting breaft ; 
 For lo! her WILLIAM o'er the ftyle juft by 
 Leap'd, laughing love and tranfport in his eye : 
 He hafles and greets the maids ; and tells his tale, 
 Why fo long abfent in the diftarit dale : 
 And ah, that prevalent the ftory prov'd 
 With BETSY, who can wonder that has lov'd? * 
 Cheerful and pleas'd they pafs'd the field along, 
 While many a fky-lark treated them with fong: 
 Much of true love, of marriage more they talk'd; 
 And oft again to thefe fame Meadows walk'd ; 
 'Till carne the happy day, when, joyful found! 
 The merry bells declar'd the village round 
 That their fond hands in wedlock were combin'd, 
 Whofe hearts had long in tender love been join'd. 
 Great (fays my legend) was the joy that day ; 
 The fhepherds blefl it, and each nymph look'd gay : 
 With flow'ry chaplets every crook was crown'd, 
 And every brow with rofy wreaths was bound: 
 They danc'd upon the green till night drew on; 
 When other rites were needful to be done : 
 Thrown was the flocking, ceremonies o'er, 
 And clos'd by jocund maids the facred door. 
 
 And
 
 248 POEMS. 
 
 And farther ftill, the rural ftory goes, 
 That long the lovers liv'd in fweet repofe ; 
 For tender truth, and virtuous faith renown 'd j 
 Bleffing and bleft a fouling race around : 
 And to the prefent hour this verfe is read, 
 On the plain grave-ftone o'er their relics lay'd: 
 
 " To thefe, whom death again did wed, 
 The grave's the fecond marriage- bed : 
 For tho' the hand of fate cou'd force 
 Twixt foal and body a divorce ; 
 It cou'd not fever man and wife, 
 Becaufe they both liv'd but one life. 
 Peace, -good reader, do not weep : 
 Peace,-* the lovers are afleep. 
 They, fweet turtles, folded lie 
 In the laft knot that love cou'd tie. 
 Let them fleep ; let them fleep on, 
 Till this ftormy night be gone ; 
 And the eternal morrow dawn ; 
 Then the curtain will be drawn ; 
 And they'll wake into a light, 
 Where day (hall never die in night.*" 
 
 * See Craftawi's Poems. 
 
 PASTORAL
 
 POEMS. 249 
 
 PASTORAL THE SIXTH. 
 
 THE BENEVOLENT MAN. 
 
 WILLIAM. JOSEPH. 
 
 CArelefsly fpread beneath a willow tree, 
 On the cool margin of the fedgy LEE, 
 WILLIAM, the Ihepherd, watch'd his fleecy care, 
 Tuning his flute to many a ruftic air : 
 His faithful dog lay by him on the ground, 
 And chirping grafshoppers leap'd lightly round. 
 When o'er the path-way to the bridge that leads, 
 Bedight in Sunday fuit, a neighbour fpeeds ; 
 Whofe hand fupports well-pleas'd his little fon, 
 By him with ftep unequal tripping on. 
 "JOSEPH, Where hafte you, with fuch fpeed, my friend ?" 
 Quoth WILLIAM, on his elbow as he lean'd : 
 ' And why thus dreft ? my little JOSEPH too 
 " What all this hurry the fine mew to view !" 
 
 JOSEPH. 
 
 No, WILLIAM in fuch times of general need, 
 With fuch a family as mine to feed, 
 'Twou'd ill become me, fure, to make fuch hafte 
 My time and money at vile fliews to wafte: 
 Far better bufmefs, thanks to gracious heav'n, 
 The fpeed you notice to my feet has giv'n ! 
 
 K k
 
 250 POEM .S. 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 What better bufinefs, JOSEPH? let me hear, 
 That in your pleafure I at leaft may mare ? 
 
 JOSEPH. 
 
 Why, our good fquire may heav'n indulgent fhed 
 Ten thoufand bleffings on his bounteous head 
 Defirous to diffufe amidft our youth, 
 With learning's light, the light of heavenly truth ; 
 And knowing well our poverty and pains, 
 How hard our labour, and how fmall our gains ; 
 Wifdom and pity ruling in his foul 
 For our poor children has endow'd a fchool ! 
 And JOSEPH here God's blefling on the boy, 
 Is chofen, WILL, the bounty to enjoy ! 
 A toward lad, he'll take his learning well, 
 'Twill pleafe the 'fquire to fee him, I can tell : 
 And fo I fpeed, as 'tis my place you know, 
 At once to thank him, and my fon to mow. 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 My fancy often on the thought hath run, 
 That our good fquire refembles much the fun ; 
 Who fheds on all around his rays divine, 
 Imparting life and luftre where they fhine. 
 So do his hands on all around difpenfe 
 The blefled beams of warm benevolence: 
 In good unwearied, he exerts each art 
 To blefs the life, and meliorate the heart ; 
 I 
 
 The
 
 POEMS. 251 
 
 The body's woe now ftudious to relieve, 
 
 Now, due inftruclion to the mind to give. 
 
 Yes, JOSEPH, of his fchool, I've heard before ; 
 
 And, if in merit aught could raife him more, 
 
 This his laft effort wou'd, methinks, approve 
 
 His goodnefs moft, and moft engage our love. 
 
 JOSEPH. 
 
 I, who ne'er knew of learning the delight- 
 Alas, for me ! who neither read nor write- 
 The more this great misfortune I deplore, 
 I feel his inftitution's worth the more. 
 Oh what fo bleft, fo ufeful and benign, 
 As on the darken'd mind with truth to mine: 
 To ope the door, by which the foul may rife 
 From the dark dungeon, where blind ign'rance lies: 
 May learn its duty, and fecurely tread 
 The paths, that to eternal glory lead ! 
 Bleft knowledge! and bleft charity! which brings 
 The envied pow'r to know fuch mighty things! 
 Bleft man ! whofe hands fuch benefits impart, 
 What joy muft live triumphant at his heart ! 
 He's like the fun and like the morning dew, 
 Warming, my WILLIAM, and refrefhing too ! 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 Refrefhing, JOSEPH? yes, he ne'er affords 
 Inadlive wiihes in unmeaning words : 
 Nor mocks the painful tendernefs of grief 
 With empty fighs the fhadows of relief! 
 
 K k 2 To
 
 252 POEMS. 
 
 To all his bounty freely is difplay'd, 
 
 Who want his pity, or who feek his aid ! 
 
 And with fuch kind humanity he gives, 
 
 As much his manner as his gift relieves ! 
 
 Nay, by his perfon he contributes more, 
 
 Than by his purfe, to benefit the poor: 
 
 Our humble cots he'll enter, and enquire 
 
 What ills we fuffer, or what good defire. 
 
 Do haplefs lofles caufe our anxious cares ? 
 
 Thofe lofles to our comfort he repairs : 
 
 Is there a quarrel ? foon he bids it ceafe, 
 
 And fooths the jarring parties into peace : 
 
 Are faithful pairs thro' poverty denied 
 
 The comforts, which by wedlock are fupplied? 
 
 The virtuous maid he portions, and furveys, 
 
 With joy, their blifs, and race, in future days. 
 
 Do any on the bed of ficknefs lie ? 
 
 Fit food and med'cine his kind hands fupply. 
 
 Do any fmart beneath affliction's rod ? 
 
 He fooths their forrows, and conduces to God, 
 
 The loving parent of the human race, 
 
 Whofe frown is mercy, and whofe fcourge is grace. 
 
 Ne'er by that houfe of refuge for the poor, 
 " Where age and want fit fmiling at the door j" 
 That houfe, the labour of his bounteous care, 
 I never pafs without a grateful tear : 
 Involuntary fwells my rifing breaft, 
 And the good founder with a figh is bleft : 
 
 Who
 
 POEMS. 253 
 
 Who, with fuch comfort, when all comfort flies, 
 Unfriended, helplefs, feeble age fupplies ! 
 
 JOSEPH. 
 
 Young as you are, and ftranger to the pain 
 By which poor men their families maintain; 
 A ftranger, WILLIAM, to the torturing fmart, 
 Which tears a tender father's bleeding heart, 
 While round his children croud, with weeping woe, 
 Afking the food, he hath not to beftovv : 
 You cannot even guefs, and I want words 
 To tell the rapture, which a gift affords, 
 By the ftill hand of modeft mercy giv'n, 
 Juft in due feafon, as if dropt from heav'n ! 
 Oh, WILLIAM, many fuch, the feafon paft, 
 When famine almoft laid our village wafte, 
 On fecret wings to my poor cottage flew, 
 But well from whence they took their flight I knew! 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 Mark you this river, how ferene and flow 
 Its deep ftill waters thro' the meadows flow : 
 While in our village the fmall mallow rill 
 For ever prattles down the pebbly hill. 
 In one an image of the fquire is feen, 
 In t'other of that Braggard, proud and vain ; 
 Who hates our matter : for his cancred breaft 
 By the foul fiend of envy is poffeft ! 
 
 JOSEPH.
 
 2 S 4 POEMS. 
 
 JOSEPH. 
 
 Alas, good WILLIAM ! 'tis a grief to fee, 
 That whiteft virtue cannot ccnfure flee : 
 'Tis nothing ftrange, that Devils God fhou'd hate : 
 But that frail creatures, in the felf-fame ftate, 
 Alike dependant, form'd alike to (hare 
 The fad viciffitude of grief and care ; 
 That mortal men in enmity mould fwell 
 'G ainit thofe in deeds of mercy who excell ; 
 Who ftrive, with pure benevolence renn'd, 
 To foften all the fufferings of their kind : 
 This fure is ftrange and ftranger ftill, to view, 
 What late example here has prov'd too true ; 
 Thofe who the common bounty need, and mare, 
 So mutually malicious and fevere. 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 You hint the poor blind widow fad to think, 
 That (he who ftood on defperation's brink, 
 Elind, helplefs, friendlefs, four young orphans round, 
 Now by our fquire's kind aid with comfort crown'd ; 
 That ftie the malice of the poor fhou'd raife; 
 That he fhou'd lofe the juft reward of praife ! 
 But what is human praife, or human blame ? 
 To heav'ns bleft candidate no doubt the fame: 
 Let God approve the action for the reft, 
 He'll find applaufe fufficient in his breaft. 
 
 JOSEPH.
 
 POEMS. 
 
 2 SS 
 
 JOSEPH. 
 
 And yet, methinks, it is but juft to fhew 
 To goodnefs the refpeft to goodnefs due : 
 Frail as I am, cou'd I diffufe my ftore, 
 Juft praife, I own, wou'd ftimulate me more; 
 I cannot, therefore, without fcorn behold, 
 Thofe who, to merit like our fquire's, are cold : 
 Unfeeling hearts ! but whofe licentious tongues 
 Could blame that deed, to which all praife belongs, 
 Are devils, and not men are devils dreft 
 In human mape, without a human breaft : 
 For is not man from fiends infernal known 
 By godlike, great benevolence alone ? 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 Yes, 'tis benevolence that makes him man, 
 And more will make him, clos'd life's little fpan; 
 Make him an angel ; as on earth 'twill give 
 Foretafte of joys, which angels felves receive: 
 For with benevolence true pleafure dwells, 
 Each grace that glows, each virtue that excells ! 
 Oh happy they, in ftate exalted plac'd, 
 Philanthropy's foul-warming joys to tafle : 
 We, JOSEPH, thrown beneath in life's low vale, 
 At diftance only can the glory hail! 
 For this we'll thankful be, and do our part ; 
 If not the pow'r, blefs God, we have the heart ! 
 
 JOSEPH.
 
 256 POEMS. 
 
 JOSEPH. 
 
 Much rather, WILLIAM, would I live pofleft 
 Of empty hands, and fympathetic breaft, 
 Than like old OSTENTATIOUS on the hill, 
 Poflefs the mighty pow'r without the will. 
 But " all have pow'r, in life however low, 
 " Kind a&s of mercy and of love to mow," 
 To farmer JOHNSON once our fquire reply'd, 
 Who mourn'd the power of doing good deny'd. 
 True were his words ; for in each ftate we need, 
 And therefore fhou'd afford each other aid j 
 In Chriftian kindnefs let us do our beft, 
 God knows our ftrength, and will excufe the reft: 
 You well remember, where a widow poor 
 Gave with a mite, than all the wealthy more. 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 How bleft a truth ! with right intention giv'n, 
 A cup of water fhall be mark'd in heav'n ! 
 See, 'tis not then the quantity, but heart, 
 To afts of love which merit can impart. 
 Bleft truth, my JOSEPH ! thus may we excell, 
 And poor in wealth, be rich in doing well. 
 
 JOSEPH. 
 
 But WILLIAM, think, what joy muft he pofTefs, 
 Who with the power, as well as heart to blefs, 
 To all his high benevolence extends, 
 The wretched comforts, the oppreft defends ; 
 
 The
 
 
 POEMS. 257 
 
 The naked deaths, the hungry fills with food- 
 In love unwearied, uniform in good ! 
 Let praife or cenfure on his deeds defcend, 
 Let difappointment or fuccefs attend : 
 Still he goes on and views with jufl regard, 
 That God, whofe approbation is reward. 
 
 ^ 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 JOSEPH, you've trac'd the caufe, from whence proceeds 
 His uniformity in virtuous deeds : 
 For ftedfaft at one mark whoever aim, 
 Thro' life's whole circle will be found the fame ! 
 JAMES, who from London t'other day came down, 
 Told me our fquire is more efteem'd in town 
 For his good aftions than amongft us here, 
 For not a charity but knows him there. 
 There, where the children of the poor are fed, 
 At once with heav'nly, and with earthly bread : 
 Where pain, and all the family of grief, 
 From fkilful med'cine find humane relief: 
 Where fafely fcreen'd in hofpitable cells, 
 From human view, pride-humbling phrenzy dwells : 
 Where lab'ring women 'midft their pangs can fmile, 
 And blefs the charity which fooths their toil : 
 Where infants, refcued from an earthly grave, 
 The tender mercy hymn which ftoop'd to fave : 
 Where penitents with tears redeem their fliame, 
 Reftor'd to God, their parents, and to fame. 
 Wherever good is done, or good defign'd, 
 His aid benignant you are fure to find : 
 The doleful prifons too, they tell me, fhare 
 His kindly vifits, and indulgent care: 
 
 L 1 Nay,
 
 258 POEMS. 
 
 Nay, and JAMES found it out, that oft he fends 
 Young men of toward parts, with meaner friends, 
 To fchool and college, where his aid provides 
 Tutors and learning, and all means betides. 
 
 JOSEPH. 
 
 A wond'rous man! if all the world he knew, 
 To all the world humanity he'd {hew: 
 No iel or party-principles confine, 
 The glowing radiance of his love divine : 
 A man, a fellow- creature, and diftreft, 
 Is pica fufficient to affedl his bread. 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 Yet, JOSEPH, I have heard that his eftate, 
 For one fo rich in bounty, is not great : 
 Not half fo great as his, of whom before 
 We fpoke, in money rich, in goodnefs poor ! 
 But right ceconomy, with great or fmall, 
 Doubles the income, and is all in all. 
 
 JOSEPH. 
 
 Ah, WILLIAM but God's bleffing is much more, 
 For this augments, nay, doubles all our ftore : 
 Who dare be bounteous, God will furely blefs 
 With conftant fuccour, and tenfold encreafe: 
 Their crufe o'erflowing, and augmented meal, 
 Miraculoufly bleft, ihall never fail ! 
 Our good man proves it and befides he flies 
 Thofe fcenes of ill, whence vaft expences rife : 
 He waftes no fortune on devouring vice, 
 On dogs or horfes, women, cards or dice. 
 
 i The
 
 POEMS. 259 
 
 The little boy, who much attention pay'd 
 To this encomium, which the fhepherds made; 
 Cried, "father, 'midil his praife, you fure forget 
 " The church, our fquire hath made fo fine and neat." 
 
 " Right, my good boy, faid WILLIAM, this too mows, 
 ' The living fountain whence his goodnefs flows : 
 " For love of God mufl kindle virtue's flame, 
 ' Or all benevolence becomes a name !" 
 
 Thus as he fpoke, a {haggling ewe, which flood 
 Too near the faithlefs margin of the flood, 
 Tumbled adown the bank into the deep, 
 When WILLIAM cried " alas, alas, my flieep 
 " One of the beft of all my flock ! if drown'd 
 " I'm ruin'd for 'tis worth above a pound!" 
 
 JOSEPH beheld it, nor delaying flood, 
 But leap'd, tho' Sunday-drefl, into the flood, 
 And caught the ewe; when anxious WILLIAM came, 
 Lean'd down, and fafe receiv'd it from the flream : 
 Then gave his hand with many a hearty thank, 
 And, lifting JOSEPH up the flippery bank, 
 Strait he conducts him to his cot juft by, 
 And changes all his dripping cloaths for dry. 
 Then to young JOSEPH, " for your father's fake, 
 This little hautboy as a prefent take : 
 " The rings are brafs, and boxen is the wood; 
 " Try it, my lad, you'll find the found is good : 
 " And always, when you touch it, bear in mind, 
 ' 'Twas by the beft means gain'd, by being kind." 
 
 L 1 2 DIGGON
 
 260 POEMS. 
 
 DIGGON DAVY'S RESOLUTION ON THE 
 DEATH OF HIS LAST COW.* 
 
 A PASTORAL. 
 
 DII MELIORA PUS, ERROREMQJJE HOSTIBUS ILLUM. 
 
 VIRG. 
 
 DIGGON DAVY. COLIN CLOUT. 
 
 BENEATH an hawthorn bufli, fecreted made, 
 The herdfman, DIGGON, doleful ply'd his fpade; 
 f The deep'ning grave conceal'd him to the head ; 
 Near him his cow, his favourite cow, lay dead : 
 When o'er the ileighb'ring ftile a fhepherd came, 
 The herdfman's friend, and COLIN was his name: 
 Touch'd with the fight, the kind and guilelefs fwain, 
 Sigh'd, fhook his head, and thus exprefs'd his pain. 
 
 COLIN. 
 
 How! MULLY gone* the fad mifchance I rue! 
 Ah! wretched DIGGON, but more wretched SUE ! 
 
 * This paftoral was firft written and published in the year 1747* 
 when thediftimper reigned amongft the horned cattle j and with a. 
 view to fatisfy a friend that Virgil had accurately described the fame 
 malady. 
 
 f" ^Humo tegere, ac foveis abfcondere difcant. 
 
 VIRG. Geor. III. v. 558.
 
 POEMS. 261 
 
 D I G G O N. 
 
 * How could I hope, where fuch contagion reigns, 
 Where one wide ruin fweeps the defart plains ; 
 Where every gale contains the feeds of death, 
 
 That DIG CON'S kine fhould draw untainted breath? 
 Vain hope, alas ! if fuch my heart had known, 
 Since MULLY'S gone, the laft of all my own. 
 No more mail SUSAN Ikim the milky ftream, 
 No more the cheefe-curd prefs, or churn the cream ; 
 No more the dairy mall my fteps invite, 
 So late the fource of plenty and delight : 
 Thither no more with SUSAN mall I ftray, 
 Nor from her cleanly hands receive the whey. 
 Sad plight is ours ! nor ours alone ; for all 
 Mourn the ftill meadow, and deferted ftall. 
 
 COLIN. 
 
 But have you, DIGGON, all thofe methods try'd, 
 By book-learn'd doftors taught, when cattle dy'd? 
 Or, tho' no doctor's remedies prevail, 
 Does the good bifhop's fam'd tar-water fail ? 
 
 DIGGON. 
 
 f Each art I try'd, did all that man could do ; 
 Med'cines I gave, like poifon med'cines flew: 
 
 * 'Hie morbo coeli miferanda coorta eft 
 Tempeftas. Ib. v. 478. 
 
 f- Profuit inferto Latices infundere cornu 
 Lenacos : ea vifa falus morientibus una. 
 
 Mox erat hoc ipfum exitio v. 509. 
 
 Quasfitajque nocent artesj ceflere Magiftri 
 
 Pbyllirides Chiron, Amythaoniufque Melampus, v. 549. 
 
 The
 
 262 POEMS. 
 
 The biftiop's drink, which fnatch'd mefrora the grave, 
 
 Giv'n to my cow, forgot its power to fave. 
 
 The dire difeafe increas'd by fwift degrees, 
 
 Till death freed MULLY ; death! which all things free*. 
 
 COLIN. 
 
 I would not, DIGGON, now your grief renew, 
 Yet wim to hear her iicknefs trac'd by you ; 
 How firft it leiz'd her, and what change its rage 
 Relentlefs wrought in each fucccflive ftage. 
 
 DIGGON. 
 
 * Deje&ed firft (he hung her drooping head, 
 Refus'd her meat, and from her pailure fled ; 
 
 f Then dull and languid feem'd her plaintive eye, 
 Her breath grew noifome, and her udder dry. 
 
 * Sin in procefTu, ccepit crudefcere morbus. 
 
 f Turn vero ardentes oculi, atque attiadus ab alto 
 Spiritus interdum gemitu gravis : imaque longo 
 Ilia fmgultu tendunt : it naribus ater 
 Sanguis & obfefias fauces premit afpera lingua, v. 504* 
 Non umbrae altorum nemorum, non mollia pofiunt 
 Prata movere animum ~.... at ima 
 
 Solvuntur latera, atque oculos flupor urget inertes, T. 519. 
 Nam neque erat coriis ufu. v. 559. 
 Dii meliora piis, erroremqre hoftibus ilium ! v. 513. 
 Ite mere, felix quondam pecus, ite capellae, Vine. Eel. I. 75. 
 Carmina nulla canam. v. 78. 
 At nos hinc alii fitientes ibimns afros, &c. ib. v. 65. 
 . Duri me martis in armis 
 
 Tela inter media atque adverfos detinet hoftes, Eel. X. T. 44. 
 
 Erft
 
 POEMS. 263 
 
 Erft fweet that breath as morning gales in May, 
 And full that uddei as of light the day. 
 Scorch'd with perpetual thirft, fhort fighs fhe drew, 
 Furr'd was her tongue, and to her mouth it grew : 
 Her burning noftiils putrid rheums diilill'd, 
 And death's ftrong agonies her bowels fill'd; 
 Each limb contracted, and a groan each breath, 
 LM eafe I wiih'd her, and it came in death: 
 Caft out, infedtejd, and abhorr'd by all; 
 See how the ufeful, and the beauteous fall ! 
 Not ev'n her fkin when living, fleek and red, 
 Can aught avail me, COLIN, now ihe's dead. 
 
 COLIN. 
 
 May heav'n, relenting, happier days beftow, 
 Sufpend the rod, and fmile away our woe ! 
 But if in juftice for our crimes we fmart, 
 If with affliction heav'n corrects the heart, 
 'Tis ours, fubmiffive to receive the ftroke, 
 Since to repine is only to provoke. 
 
 D I G G O N. 
 
 Hard is the tafk from murmurs to refrain, 
 Ev'n bleffings pad increafe the prefent pain. 
 Once in thefe vales my lowing herds were fed, 
 My table plenty crown'd, and peace my bed; 
 My jocund pipe then tun'd to amorous lays, 
 A kifs repaid me for a lover's praife. 
 Bleft times, farewell ! no more thofe herds are found, 
 No more my table is with plenty crown'd; 
 No more my bed the fleep of peace beftows, 
 No more my jocund flrain melodious flows: 
 
 A
 
 264 POEMS. 
 
 A lover's praife a kifs rewards no more, 
 
 Joy fpreads his wanton wings, and leaves the more: 
 
 Pale want remains, with all her meagre train, 
 
 And only fighs are echoed o'er the plain. 
 
 Far hence I'll fly, this ruftic garb foregoe, 
 
 And march in red, a foldier to the foe: 
 
 The French, whofe bofoms Papifh plots conceal, 
 
 My hand, made heavy by diflrefs, (hall feel ; 
 
 On Flander's plains I'll lofe domeftic care, 
 
 Defperate thro' want, and mighty thro' defpair. 
 
 And there, if heav'n at length my labours crown, 
 
 I'll fow falfe Frenchmen, and I'll reap renown. 
 
 SUSAN, farewell I 
 
 COLIN. 
 
 -'Sdeath ! yonder o'er the mead 
 The fquire's curs'd maftiff fcours with headlong (peed ! 
 See how my flock in wild confufion flies 
 Zooks, if I catch him by this hand he dies. 
 
 SUSAN
 
 POEM S. 265 
 
 SUSAN AND ROSALIND. 
 
 A PASTORAL. 
 
 DIGHT in their beft array, with blithfome mien, 
 The village youth now frolic on the green ; 
 To various fports, which thefe and thofe promote, 
 The live-long Whitfun-holy-day devote: 
 Here nymphs and fwains to ruftic meafures dance, 
 Snatch the ftol'n kifs, and interchange the glance ; 
 While hum'rous HOBBINOL aukward an ticks plays, 
 And moves loud laughter, as he threads the maze. 
 Some with tough cudgels feek the prize to win, 
 Some run, fome leap, fome wreftle;-^ and fomegrin: 
 The happy happier by the feafon grew, 
 But, ah! more wretched ROSALIND and SUE ; 
 Sad SUE and ROSALIND together ftray'd 
 From thefe gay crowds, and trod the lonely glade ; 
 Tir'd, and beneath an ancient oak reclin'd, 
 Alternate thus each eas'd a love-fick mind. 
 
 SUSAN. 
 
 Once at the foot of this o'erfhadowing tree 
 I fat with LUBBERKIN, my feat his knee; 
 He fung me ballads, which my kifs repaid, 
 And laughing SUSAN was an happy maid : 
 But true I wot that ancient faying, ROSE, 
 ' The greateft glee forebodes the ftiarpeil woes j" 
 I find it true by fad experience now, 
 Since faithlefs LVBBERKIN forgets hi* vpw. 
 
 M m ROSALINB.
 
 66 POEMS. 
 
 ROSALIND. 
 
 More wretched I, inconftant have I been ; 
 And what in love is half fo great a fin ! 
 Remorfe and anguifti on my vitals prey 
 No lover comes for him I chas'd away : 
 Alone I wander, and in fecret figh, 
 And mem'ry brings my fault for ever nigh. 
 I wilh, alas ! but ftill I wifh in vain, 
 The joys I flighted wou'd return again : 
 Loft by my fault, a keener pang I prove, 
 And pine with all that punimes in love. 
 
 SUSAN. 
 
 Late as I went to market in the cart, 
 I heard a drum it chill'd me to the heart. 
 My boding breaft prefag'd fome mifchief nigh, 
 And my limbs trembled, tho' I knew not why : 
 But when I faw the gaudy ferjeant ftand, 
 And holding, lovely LUBBER IN ! thy hand, 
 In Sunday fuit, and as a bridegroom gay, 
 My ftrength forfook me, and I fwoon'd away. 
 Still, ftill his looks fhall faithful memory bear ; 
 Ah ! ftill the pleafure and the pain I fliare. 
 His hat, which ever, till that morn, he wore 
 Flapp'd on all fides, or flapp'd at leaft before, 
 Now fmartly cock'd, and fmartly worn, difplay'd 
 One eye-brow, one was hid beneath the {hade ; 
 A green cockade adorn'd the button-fide, 
 And his face flulh'd with mingled joy and pride : 
 His dark brown hair, which hung uncomb'd fo late 
 O'er his broad fhoulders, negligent and ftraight, 
 Now ty'd behind, and curl'd at either ear, 
 Look'd like the captain's, who call'd JOAN " my dear." 
 
 I
 
 POEMS. 267 
 
 I gaz'd with pleafure> but the pleafure fled, 
 When foon he follow'd where the ferjeant led; 
 No more returning : now the dangerous fea 
 Flows a wide wafte 'twixt LUBBER KIN and me: 
 On foreign lands my abfent foldier's laid, 
 And wanton's pleas'd with fome outlandilh maid. 
 Oh happy fair! O LUBBERKIN, untrue, 
 How could'ft thou lift, and how forget thy SUE ! 
 
 ROSALIND. 
 
 When fond AMYNTAS woo'd me to be bleft, 
 I mock'd his paffion with a taunting jeft : 
 In vain his faithful paffion perfever'd ; 
 I heard him not, or flighted if I heard : 
 But when light ROGER, fam'd for guileful art, 
 Woo'd me, alas ! I gave him all my heart. 
 Sweet was his converfe to my lift'ning ear, 
 And fondly I believ'd his vow fincere. 
 AM YNTAS left me with a juft difdain, 
 Nor cou'd his abfence give my breaft a pain. 
 But, as to milk (ill luck wou'd have it fo) 
 Thro' goodman HODGSON'S clofe I chanc'd to go, 
 I caught young ROGER, 'midft the ofiers laid, 
 I caught him, SUSAN, with the parfon's maid ! 
 She fled ; he fmil'd ; and, mad with rage, I cry'd, 
 " Henceforth approach me not;" and he comply'd. 
 
 SUSAN. 
 
 Peace may return ; and from the diftant more 
 My foldier never to forfake me more. 
 O come, my LUBBERKIN ! and blefs'd with thee, 
 I'll join at Chriftmas in the general glee. 
 
 M m 2 Thou
 
 2 63 ? 6 E M S. 
 
 Thou, fkill'd in feats of war, fhalt win the prize, 
 Engage all wifhes, and attraft all eyes : 
 My envy'd arms fhall hold thee to my breaft, 
 And love and pride fhall join to make me bleft. 
 
 ROSALIND. 
 
 Oh! would AMY NT AS but return, he'd find 
 His grateful ROSALIND for ever kind. 
 Where, gentle Ihepherds! does my fhepherd ftray ? 
 I'll track his fteps thro* ev'ry winding way ; 
 Thro' every vale I'll hafte ; nor will I dread 
 The thickeft woods and darkeft groves to tread ; 
 And when the briars my tender feet fhall wound, 
 The blood, where'er I pafs, mall mark the ground. 
 This, when he fees, relenting mail he fay, 
 At length her pains have wafh'd her faults away. 
 Then but what arts mail footh the chearlefs day, 
 Till happier hours our forrows fhall o'erpay ? 
 
 SUSAN. 
 
 Let not the heart with hopelefs anguifh bend j 
 Soon changing fortune fhall our loves befriend : 
 At the fquire's wedding will I flily take 
 Three broken morfels of the bridal cake : 
 Dame DOBSON'S wedding ring I'll borrow too, 
 And thrice three times I'll pafs the morfels thro'. 
 Beneath thy pillow and my own when laid, 
 Such dreams fhall rife as footh the love-fick maid ; 
 Such dreams as promife more fubftantial blifs, 
 The real lover, and the waking kifs. 
 
 Pleas'dwith the flattering thought, they feek their cot, 
 A while the pains of haplefs love forgot.
 
 POEMS. 269 
 
 THE PARSONS. 
 
 AN ECLOGUE*. 
 
 A Small neat houfe, and little fpot of ground, 
 Where herbs and fruits,and kitchen ftuffwere found, 
 The humble vicar of NORTH-WILFORD blefs'd, 
 Small was his living but his heart at reft: 
 Unfeen, unblam'd, he pafs'd his time away, 
 He fmoak'd or rode, or mus'd, or walk'd all day : 
 Thro' all the year no anxious cares he knew, 
 But juft at Eafter, when he claim'd his due; 
 And then the furly rufticks churlifh pride 
 His well earn'd tythes difputed or denied. 
 The vicar, ftill preferring want to ftrife, 
 Gave up his dues to lead a peaceful life. 
 His garden once in penfive mood he fought, 
 His pipe attended, as a friend to thought; 
 And while the fmoak in eddies round him play'd, 
 A neighb'ring vicar ent'ring he furvey'd : 
 One like himfelf, a downright honeft prieft, 
 Whofe love of peace his fcanty dues decreas'd. 
 
 Suppofe the little ceremonies done, 
 And all the rites of lighting pipes begun ; 
 Suppofe the whiffs in fober fort flow round, 
 And both in mufing very deeply drown'd ; 
 
 * This little poem was written at the requeft of the author** 
 ever honoured father, a worthy country vicar, who felt much from 
 the evil here hinted at. 
 
 For
 
 270 POEMS. 
 
 For fo it was 'till thus the firfl good man, 
 
 Fetch'd a deep whiff, and anxioufly began. 
 
 FIRST PARSON. 
 
 Wou'd God, my friend ! his goodnefs had affign'd 
 Some lot more fuited to my feeling mind : 
 Lefs tho' my income, if from torture free, 
 Content would well fupply the lofs to me : 
 For all the PENCE, the little dues I glean, 
 Or raife my fcorn, my pity, or my fpleen. 
 I'll tell thee but e'en now a neighbour came, 
 Pale want diffus'd o'er all his meagre frame ; 
 Five pence the fum, he gave a milling o'er, 
 Kind fhook his head, and wifh'd he cou'd do more : 
 I turn'd away, nor cou'd from tears refrain ; 
 *Twas death to take it, to refufe it vain. 
 
 SECOND PARSON. 
 Such gentle manners more affeft the mind 
 Than the rough rudenefs of the bafer kind : 
 |uft ere I came, a ruftick braggart elf, 
 Proud of his purfe, and glorying in his pelf, 
 Approach'd, and bold demanded what to pay, 
 " What claims the prieft, whom we maintain to pray?'* 
 Th' account he gave me of his flock, I knew 
 Was half curtail'd, and fcarce one number true ; 
 Howe'er my filence favour'd the deceit, 
 And, fond of quiet, 1 conceal'd the cheat : 
 Yet when the fmall, the half-demand 1 made, 
 He bullied, fwore, and damn'd the preaching trade ; 
 All God's good houfhold with irreverence curs'd, 
 And me with foul abufe as far the worft ! 
 
 Thou
 
 POEMS. 271 
 
 Thou know'ft, my friend, what agonizing fmart, 
 Such brutal outrage gives the tender heart. 
 
 FIRST PARSON. 
 
 Too well, alas ! too fatally I know 
 From whence thefe complicated evils flow; 
 From tythes, from tythes, the clergy's woes arife, 
 They mar religion, nay, they rob the ikies. 
 
 Would God our monarch's ever-gracious hand 
 In this wou'd deign to blefs the wretched land : 
 Wou'd God, the tythes, like taxes might be paid, 
 A fix'd revenue by fome ftatute made : 
 How then wou'd blefl religion rear her head! 
 How thro' each village kindly virtue fpread ! 
 What fouls with heav'nly comforts would be bleft ! 
 How happy, then, parifluoners and prieft ! 
 
 Thus of true grievances the priefts repin'd, 
 And with their own fpoke all their brethren's mind. 
 When toll'd the bell, and to the church flow move 
 Six virgins, bearing one who died for love. 
 The grave debate was filenc'd by the bell ; 
 The vicars rofe, and kindly took farewell. 
 The firft his fermon feeks, and haftes away 
 The laft fad duties to the dead to pay : 
 From love he much advis'd the youthful throng, 
 Drew tears from all, and pleas'd, tho' preaching long ; 
 While flow his brother on his eafy pad, 
 Pac'd home full grave, and ruminating fad. 
 
 FINIS.

 
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