'VOL.T
Pnntcd for Ilarnfoii and C?
XViHJ'att-niofter-Row.
1781.
INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS.
BY THE EDITOR..' '
O O l n g has "Man, engroffin ev'ry art,
kar'd to rejeft the Female's rightful part;
As if to him, alone,, had been confin'd,
Heav'n's. greateft gift, a fcientifick mind.
-The rougher arts, 'tis true, men juftly claim ;
But let tnefmooth and tranquil paths to fame,
Which afk hot ftrength of body, but of mind,
Be, as the foul, to neither fex. confin'd.
.For tho' fometimes, the fair might eafy prove, .
Females have well in nobleft conflicts ftrove ;
As when Eliza Britain's fceptre fway'd,
And the aw'd world admir'd the ma_tchlefs maid ;
Yet willingly to man* the palm they yield,
From throne and fceptre, to the fword and mield ;
But in thofe arts which humanize the mind,
They boaft an equal pow'r with all mankind.
When fome Ipv'd fair-one tunes the vocal lay,
And the rapt foul with'pleafure melts away ;
Or,- as me raifes high th*. enchanting {train, .
Cecilia feems return'd to earth again,
While o'er the roagick Jceys her fingers trace
The founds ccleftial of th' immortal race j
A
Such
BEAUTIES OF POETRY*
.
Such as, to human fancy, muft improve
The namelefs raptures of the blefs'd above :
Where is the wretch fo hardy to deny,
But female fkill with boafted man's may vie!
The facred art of Poetry, we owe
To that blefs'd fource of chiefell blifs below,
The fond affe&ion which can live, alone,
Between two hearts that love has render'd one :
Where Nature feems to fpeak, with meaning plain,
* Thy joys, proud man, were without woman vain !
* Like thee, fhe feels each paffion of the heart,
* Her blifs as great as thine, as great her fmart ;
* And well fhe knows, with words of magick found,
f To check the rifmg hope, or heal the faithful wound,
' Then why refitfe them to an equal mare
' In arts which owe their being to the fair ?
' Say, canft thou meanly think that fcience ftrives
* To taint the female brcaft where moft it thrives ?
' Yet, if a fpark within your own refides,
' Imagine reafon ev'ry aftion guides ;
' Expeft diftin&ion from the lowly crowd,
' And fcorn to fear YOUR, virtue difallow'd !
' Unjuft it is regard the paft with mame ;
* And let them henceforth mare the road to fame.*
Happy for England, were each female mind,
To fcience more, and lefs to pomp inclin'd ;
If parents, by example, prudence taught,
And from their QUEEN the flame of virtue caught !
Skill'd in each art that ferves to polifh life,
Behold, in HER, a fcientifick wife!
Tho' moft entitled to the glare of drefs,
No private lady can regard it lefs :
Yet ftill fhe keeps the glorious golden mean,
And always wears what beft becomes a queen ;
Rich, tho' not tawdry ; elegant, tho' neat ;
And all her perfon, like her mind, compleat.
While.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 3
While, in each duty of domeftick life,
She yields not to the lefs-exahd wife ;
Attends, herfelf, the royal offspring's care,
And pours the virtuous precept in their ear ;
Teaches the duty which to God they owe,
And tells how poor the thanks they can beftow.
Nor doth herfelf neglect each day to join
Their much-lov'd prefence in the rites divine :
And oft her pious lips to Heav'n addrefs
The fervent wifh, that Britain's woes were lefs ;
That War might fheathe his deeply-crimfori'd fword,
And Peace, throughout the world, be once again reitor'd.
Whether we view her as a wife, poffefs'd
Of ev'ry charm to make her confort blefs'd ;
(New fource of envy in the breafts of thofe
His virtues, with his povy'r, have render'd foes :)
Or as a mother, chriftian, queen, or friend;
Alike we muft admire, alike commend !
But vain are words her merits to impart,
For CHARLOTTE'S virtues reign in ev'ry heart.
Great is the taflc my Genius has aflign'd,
And much it needs a more enlighten'd mind ;
To traverfe Nature's garden all around,
Where ev'ry weed and ev'ry flow'r is found ;
DilKnguift} well the properties of all,
And harm no grateful herb, however fmall:
Yet crop each painted pageant of a day,
That hardly blooms before it knows decay ;
Nor leave a fingle flow'r, tho' gay or fair,
Which owns a fcent lefs fragrant than the air;
Leaft it's foul breath contaminate the whole,
And make the food the poifon of the foul.
The talk is great, indeed ! But, when I fear,
My better Genius cries, ' Still perfevere !
' Think, by your means, each fair-one may adorn
* Her brow with rofes, fearlefs of the thcrn ;
A 2 ' M:y
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
May range thro' Nature's rich parterres with eafe,
And fafely pluck whatever flow'r me pleafe ;
Nor fear, hov/e'-er incautioufly fhe tread,
To place her foot upon the adder's head :
Aflur'd each plant or flow'r that meets her eyes,
Is to the virtuous mind a welcome prize.
E'en CHARLOTTE'S felf feme leifure hour may rove
In thofe delightful fcenes fhe muft approve,
With rapture view the fkilful Gard'ner's care,
And deem THY WORK a bleffing to the Fair!
Dare, then, proceed nor think your labours hard ;
For what of toil can merit fuch reward!'
THE FEMALE SEDUCERS.
BY MR. EDWARD MOORE.
) '~T~ A I S faid of widow, maid, and wife,
Ji That honour is a woman's life ;
Unhappy fex ! who cnly claim
A being in the breath of fame,
Which tainted, not the quick'ning gales
That fweep Sabea's fpicy vales,
Nor all the healing fweets reftore,
That breathe along Arabia's more.
The trav'ller, if he chance to ilray,
May turn uncenfur'd to his way ;
Polluted ftreams again are pure,
And deepell: \vounds admit a cure:
But woman no redemption knows ;
The wounds of hpnour never clofe !
Tho' diuant ev'ry hand to guide,
Nor fkill'd on life's tempeftuous tide,
If once her feeble bark recede,
Or deviate from the courfe decreed,
In
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 5
In vain fhe feeks the frien,dlefs fiiore,
Her fwifter folly flies before ;
The circling ports again!]: her clofc,
And fliut the wand'rer from repofe ;
Till, by confli&ing waves opprefs'd,
Her found'ring pinnace fmks to reft.
Are there no offerings to atone
For but a fingle rror ? None.
Tho* Woman is avow'd, of old,
No daughter of celeftial mould,
Her temp'ring not without allay,
And form'd but of the finer clay,
We challenge from the mortal dame
The ftrength angeiick natures claim ;
Nay, more ; for facred ftories tell,
That e'en immortal angels fell.
Whatever fills the teeming fphere
Of humid earth, and ambient air,
With varying elements endu'd,
Was form'd to fall, and rife renew'd.
The ftars no fix'd duration know ;
Wide oceans ebb, again to flow ;
The moon repletes her warning face,
All-beauteous, from her late difgrace ;
And funs, that mourn approaching night,
Refulgent rife with new-born light.
In vain may death and time fubdue,
While Nature mints her race anew,
And holds fome vital fpark apart,
Like virtue, hid in ev'ry heart ;
'Tis hence reviving warmth is fern
To clothe a naked world in green.
No longer barr'd by winter's cold.
Again the gates of life unfold ;
Again each infeft tries hi wing,
And lifts frefli pinions on the fpring ;
Again,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Again, from ev'ry latent root,
The bladed ftem and tendril ihoot,
Exhaling incenfe to the fides,
Again to perifli, and to rife.
And muft weak Woman, then, difown
The change to which a world is prone ;
In one meridian brightnefs fhine,
And ne'er, like ev'ning funs, decline ?
Refolv'd and firm alone? Is this
What we demand of Woman ! Yes.
But mould the fpark of veftal fire,
In feme unguarded hour expire ;
Or mould the nightly thief invade
Hefperia's chafte and facred made,
Of all the blooming fpoil poflefs'd,
The dragon Honour charm'd to reft ;
Shall Virtue's flame no more return r
No more with virgin fplendor burn ?
No more the ravag'd garden blow
With fpring's fucceeding bloflbm ? No.
Pity may mourn, but not reftore ;
And Woman falls, to rife no more !
Within this fublunary fphere,
A country lies no matter where ;
The clime may readily be found
By all who tread poetick ground :
A ftream, calPd Life, acrofs it glides,
And equally the land divides ;
And here of Vice the province lies,
And there the hills of Virtue rife.
Upon a mountain's airy ftand,
Whofe fammit look'd to either land,
An ancient pair their dwelling chofe,
As well for profpeft as repofe ;
For mutual faith they long were fam'd,
And Temp'rance and Religion nam'd.
A num'rous
.BEAUTIES OF POETRY.' 7
A num'rons progeny divine,
Confefs'd the honours of their line ;
But in a little daughter fair,
Was center'd more than half their care ;
For Heav'n, to gratulate her birth,
Gave figns of future joy to earth ;
White was the robe this infant wore,
And Chaftity the name (he bore.
As now the maid in ftature grew,
(A flow'r juft opening to the view)
Oft thro' her native lawns flie ftray'd,
And wreftling with the lambkins play'd.
Her looks diffufive fweets bequeath'd,
The breeze grew purer as me breath'd ;
The morn her radiant blufh afTnm'd,
The fpring with earlier fragrance bloom'd,
And Nature yearly took delight,
Like her, to drefs the world in white.
But when her rifmg form was feen
To reach the crifis of fifteen,
Her parents up the mountain's head,
With anxious ilep their darling led ;
By turns they fnatch'd her to their breait,
And thus the fears of age exprefs'd.
' O joyful caufe of many a care !
* O daughter, too divinely fair !
* Yon world, on this important day,
* Demands thee to a dang'rous way;
* A painful journey all muft go,
* Whofe doubted period none can know ;
' Whofe due direction who can find,
' Where Reafon's mute, and Senfe is blind ?
c Ah ! what unequal leaders thefe,
' Thro' fuch a wide perplexing maze !
' Then mark the warnings of the wife,
f And learn what love and years advife.
' Far
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
* Far to the right thy profpeft bend,
' Where yonder tow'ring hills afcend ;
' Lo, there the arduous path in view,
' Which Virtue and her fons purfue !
' With toil o'er lefs'ning earth they rife,
' And gain, and gain upon the Ikies.
' Narrow's the way her children tread;
' No walk, for pleafure fraoothly fpread ;
* But rough, and difficult, and fteep,
' Painful to climb, and hard to keep.
* Fruits immature thofe lands difpenfe,
' A food indelicate to fenfe,
Of tafte unpleafant; yet from thofe
4 Pure health, with chearful vigour flows,
* And ftrength, unfeeling of decay,
' Throughout the long laborious way.
* Hence, as they fcale that heavenly road,'
* Each limb is lighten'd of it's load ;
' From earth refining flill they go,
' And leave the mortal weight below ;
Then fpreads the ftrait, the doubtful clears,
' And fmooth the rugged path appears ;
* For cuftom turns fatigue to eafe,
' And, taught by Virtue; pain can pleafe.
' At length, the toilfome journey o'er,
* And near the bright celeflial fhore,
* A gulph, black, fearful, and profound,
' Appears, of either world the bound,
' Through darknefs leading up to light ;
' Senfe backward fhrinks, and fhuns the fight !
* For there the tranfitory train,
' Of time, and form, and care, and pain,
' And matter's grofs, encumb'ring mafs,
* Man's late afTociates, cannot pafs ;
* But finking, quit th' immortal charge,
* And leave the wond'ring foul at large j
' But
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 9
* Lightly Ihe wings her obvious way,
1 And mingles with eternal day.
' Thither, O thither wing thy fpeed,
' Though pleafure charm, or pain impede !
' To fuch th' All-bounteous Pow'r has giv'n,
* For prefent earth, a future heav'n j
' ,For trivial lofs, unmeafur'd gain,
* And endlefs blifs, for tranfient pain.
* Then fear, ah fear! to turn thy fight,
* Where yonder flow'ry fields invite ;
* Wide on the left, the path-way bends,
' And with pernicious eafe defcends ;
' There, fweet to fenfe, and fair to mow,
* New planted Edens feem to blow,
* Trees, that delicious poifon bear,
* For death is vegetable there.
' Hence is the frame of health unbrac'd,
' Each fmew flack'ning at the tafte,
' The foul to paffion yields her throne,
* And fees with organs not her own ;
' While, like the flumb'rer in the night,
* Pleas'd with the fhadowy dream of light,
* Before her alienated eyes
' The fcenes of Fairy-land arife :
' The puppet-world's amufing fhow,
' Dipp'd in the gayly-colour'd bow,
* Sceptres, and wreaths, and glittering things,
' The toys of infants, and of kings,
4 That tempt, along the baneful plain,
* The idly wife, and lightly vain,
Till verging on the gulphy more,
' Sudden they fink, and rife no more.
But lift to what thy fates declare ;
' Tho' thou art woman, frail as fair,
* If once thy fliding foot mould ftray,
* Once quit yon {Jeav'n-appomted way,
B * For
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
' For thee, loft maid ! for thee alone,
c Nor prayers mall plead, nor tears atone ;
' Reproach, fcorn, infamy, aiwi hate,
4 On thy returning fteps mall wait ;
' Thy form be loath'd by ev'ry eye,
' And ev'ry foot thy prefence fly 1'
Thus arm'd with words of potent found,
Like guardian angels plac'd around,
A charm by Truth divinely caft,
Forward our young advent'rer pafs'd.
Forth from her facred eye-lids fent,
Like morn, fore running radiance went y
While Honour, handmaid late aiGgn'd,
Upheld her lucid train behind.
Awe-ftruck, the much-admiring crowd
Before the virgin-vifion bow'd,
Gaz'd with an ever-new delight,
And caught frelh virtue at the fight ;
For not of earth's unequal frame
They deem'd the heaven-compounded dame ?
* If matter, fure the moft refin'd,
' High wrought, and temper'd into mind,
1 Some darling daughter of the day,
* And body'd by her native ray.'
Where-e'er me pafles, thoufands bend ;
And thoufands, where, flie moves, attend :
Har ways obfervant eyes confefs,
Her fteps purfuing praifes blefc ;
While, to the elevated maid,
Oblations, as to Heav'n, are paid.
'Twas on an ever-blythfome day,
The jovial birth of rofy May,
When genial warmth, no more fupprefs'd r
Now melts the froft in. ev'ry breaft,
The cheek with fecret fluming dyes,
And looks kind things from chafteft eyes j
TKe
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. n
The fun with healthier vifage glows,
Afide his clouded kerchief throws,
And dances up th' ethereal plain,
Where late he us'J to climb with pain ;
While Nature, as from bonds fet free,
Springs out, and gives a loofe to glee.
And now, for momentary reit,
The nymph her travell'd fteps reprefs'd,
Juft turn'd to view the ftage attain'd,
And glory'd in the height flae gain'd.
Out-ftretch'd before her wide furvey,
The realms of fweet perdition lay ;
And pity touch'd her foul with woe,
To fee a world fo loft below ;
When ftraight the breeze began to breathe
Airs gently wafted from beneath,
That bore commiflion'd witchcraft thence,
And reach'd her fympathy of fenfe ;
No founds of difcord, that difclofe
A people funk and loft in woes.
But as of prefent good pofiHs'd,
The very triumph of the blefs'd.
The maid in rapt attention hung,
While thus approaching Sirens fung.
Hither, faireft ! hither, hafte !
' Brighteft beauty, come and tafte
' What the pow'rs of blifs unfold ;
Joys, too mighty to be told !
' Tafte what extafies they give,
' Dying raptures tafte, and live !
' In thy lap, difdaining meafure,
' Nature empties all her treafure !
Soft defires, that fweetly languifli ;
Fierce delights, that rife to anguifli !
B 2 ' Faireft,
BEAUTIJES OF POETRY.
f Faireft, doft thou yet delay ?
' Brighteft beauty, come away !
' Lift not, when the froward chide,
' Sons of pedantry and pride ;
' Snarlers, to whofe feeble fenfe
' April funfhine is offence ;
* Age and Envy will advife
' E'en againft the joys they prize.
* Come! in pleafure's balmy bowl
4 Slake the thirftings of thy foul,
* Till thy raptur'd pow'rs are fainting
' With enjoyment paft the painting (
' Faireft, doft thou yet delay ?
' Brigfyteft beauty, come away !*
So fung the Sirens, as of yore,
Upon the falfe Aufonian more ;
And O for that preventing chain,
That bound Ulyfles on the main ;
That fo our fair-one might withftand
The covert ruin, now at hand !
The fong her charm'd attention drew,
When now the tempters flood in view j
Curiofity, with prying eyes,
And hands of bufy, bold emprize ;
Like Hermes, feather'd were her feet,
And like fore-running Fancy, fleet.
By fearch untaught, by toil untir'd,
To novelty fhe ftill afpir'd;
Taftelefs of ev'ry good poflefs'd,
And but in expectation blefs'd.
With her, aflbciate, Pleafure came,
Gay Pleafure, frolick-loving dame ;'
Her mien all fwimming in delight,
Her beauties half reveal'd to fight ;
Loofe
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 13
Loofe flow'd her garments from the ground,
And caught the kiffing winds around.
As erft Medufa's looks were kno\vn
To turn beholders into ftone ;
A dire reverfion her they felt,
And in the eye of Pleafure melt.
Her glance with fweet perfuafion charm'd;
Unnerv'd the ftrong, the fteel'd difarm'd ;
No fafety e'en the flying find,
Who, vent'rous, look but once behind.
Thus was the much-admiring maid,
While diftant, more than half betray'd,
With fmiles, and adulation bland,
They join'd her fide, and feiz'd her hand :
Their touch envenom'd fweets inftill'd,
Her frame with new pulfations thrill'd ;
While half confenting, half denying,
Reluftant now, and now complying,
Amidft a war of hopes and fears,
Of trembling wifhes, fmiling tears,
Still down, and down, the winning pair
Compell'd the ftruggling, yielding fair.
As when fome ftately vefTel bound
Toblefs'd Arabia's diitant ground,
Borne from her courfes, haply lights
Where Barca's flow'ry clime invites,
Conceal'd around whofe treach'rous land,
Jjurk the dire rqck, and dang'rous fand ;
The pilot warns with fail and oar
To Ihun the much-fufpefted fhore,
In vain ; the tide, too fubtly ftrong.
Still bears the wreftling bark along,
Till found'ring, fhe refigns to fate,
And finks, o'erwhelm'd, with all her freight.
So, baffling ev'ry bar to fin,
And Hcav'n's own pilot plac'd within,
Along
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Along the devious, fmooth defcent,
With pow'rs increafmg as they went,
The dames, accuftom'd to fubdue,
As with a rapid current drew,
And o'er the fatal bounds convey'd
The loft, the long reluctant maid !
Here ftop, ye fair-ones, and beware,
Nor fend your fond affecUons there ;
Yet, yet your darling, now deplor'd,
May turn, to you and Heav'n reftor'd ;
Till then, with weeping Honour wait,
The fervant of her better fate,
With Honour, left upon the ihore,
Her friend and handmaid now no more ;
Nor with the guilty world, upbraid
The fortunes of a wretch betray'd ;
But o'er her failings caft the veil,
Rememb'ring you yourfelves are frail !
And now, from all-enquiring light,
Fait fled the confcious Iliad es of night ;
The damfel, from a fhort repofe,
Confounded at her plight, arofe.
As when, with flumb'rous weight opprefs'd,
Some wealthy mifer finks to reft,
Where felons eye the glitt'ring prey,
And fteal his hoard of joys away ;
He, borne where golden Indus ftreams,
Of pearl, and quarry'd di'mond dreams,
Like Midas, turns the glebe to ore,
And ftands all rapt arajdft his ftore ;
But wakens naked, and defpoil'd
Of that for which his years had toil'd.
So far'd the nymph, her treafure flown,
And turn'd, like Niobe, to ftone :
Within, without, obfcure and void, ,
She felt all ravag'd, all deftroy'd.
And,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
And, ' O thou curs'd, infidious coaft !
Are thefe the bleffings thou canft boaft ?
Thefe, Virtue ! thefe the joys they find,
Who leave thy heav'n-topt hills behind ?
Shade me, ye pines ; ye caverns, hide ; "
Ye mountains cover me !' me cry'd.
Her trumpet Slander rais'd on high,
And told the tidings to the flcy ;
Contempt difcharg'd a living dart,
A fide-long viper to her heart ;
Reproach breath'd poifons o'er her face,
And foil'd and blailed ev'ry grace ;
Officious Shame, her handmaid new,
Still turn'd the mirror to her view ;
While thofe in crimes the deepeft dy'd,
Approach'd to whiten at her fide ;
And ev'ry lewd, infulting dame,
Upon her folly rofe to fame.
What mould me do ? Attempt once more
To gain the late deferted more ?
So trufting, back the mourner flew,
As fail the train of fiends purfue.
Again the farther fhore's attain'd.
Again the land of Virtue gain'd ;
But Echo gathers in the wind,
And fhows her initant foes behind.
Amaz'd, with headlong fpeed fhe tend?,
Where late fhe left an hoft of friends ;
Alas ! thofe fhrinking friends decline,
Nor longer own that form divine ;
With fear they mark the following cry,
And from the lonely trembler fly;
Or backward drive her on the coaft,
Where peace was wreck'd, and honour loft.
From earth thus hoping aid in vain,
To Heav'n not daring to complain,
$5 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
No truce by hoftile clamour gtv'n,
And from the face of friendfliip driv'n,
The nymph funk proftrate on the ground,
With ail her weight of woes around.
Enthron'd within a circling Ccy,
Upon a mount, o'er mountains high,
All radiant fate, as in a fhrine,
Virtue, firll effluence divine ;
Far, far above the fcenes of woe,
That rhut this cloud-wrapt'world below ;
Superior goddefs, -effence bright,
Beauty of uncreated light ;
Whom mould mortality furvey,
As doom'd upon a certain day,
The breath of frailty muil expire.
The world diffolve in living fire ;
The gems of heav'n, and folar flame^
Be quench'd by her eternal beam ;
And Nature, quick'ning in her eye,
To rife a new-born phoenix, die.
Hence, unreveal'd to mortal view,
A veil around her form me threw,
Which three fad fitters of the made,
Pain, Care, and Melancholy made.
Thro' this her all-enquiring eye,
Attentive from her ftation high,
Beheld, abandon'd to defpair,
The ruins of her fav'rite fair ;
And with a voice, whofe awful found
Appall'd the guilty world around,
BJd the tumultuous winds be {till.
To numbers bow'd each iift'ning hill,
Uncurl'd the furging of the mr t in,
And fmooth'd the thorny bed of pain ;
The golden harp of lieav'n me ftrung,
And thus the tuneful goddefs fung.
' Lovely
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
' Lovely penitent, arife ;
* Come, and claim thy kindred flcies !
' Come ! thy filler angels fay,
* Thou haft wept thy ftains away.
c Let Experience now decide,
'Twixt the good and evil try'd ;
' In the fmooth, enchanted ground,
' Say, unfold the treasures found !
Structures, rais'd by morning dreams ;
' Sands that tripp'd the flitting ftreams ;
1 Down, that anchors on the air ;
Clouds, that paint thtir changes there.
* Seas, that fmoothly dimpling lie,
' While the ftorm impends on high j
t Shewing in an obvious glafs,
Joys that in pofleflion pafs ;
' Tranfient, fickle, light and gay,
Flatt'ring only to betray ;
What, alas ! can life contain ?
1 Life ! like all it's circles, vain.
' Will the flork, intending reft,
' On the billow build her neft ?
Will the bee demand his ftore
* From the bleak and bladelefs more ?
' Man alone, intent to ftray,
* Ever turns from Wifdom's way,
' Lays up wealth in foreign land,
Sows the fea, and plows the fand.
Socti
BEAUTIES OF POETRY
Soon this elemental mafs,
Soon th' incumb'ring world mall pafs ;
Form be wrapt in wafting fire ;
Time be fpent, and life expire.
Then, ye boafted fons of men,
Where is your afylum then ?
Sons of Pleafure, fons of Care,
Tell me, mortals, tell me where ?
Gone, like traces on the deep ;
Like a fceptre grafp'd in fleep ;
Dews exhal'd from morning glades ;
Melting fnows, and gliding -{hades !
Pafs the world; and what's behind?
Virtue's gold, by fire refin'd ;
From an univerie deprav'd,
From the wreck of nature &v'd*
Like the life-fupporting grain,
Fruit of patience and of pain,
On the fwain's autumnal day,
Winnow'd from the chaff away.
Little trembler, fear no mof e ;
Thou haft plenteous crops in ftore J
Seed, by genial fofrows fown,
More than all thy fcorners own.
What, tho' hoftile earth defpife ;
Heav'n beholds with gentler eyes !
Heav'n thy friendlefs fteps mall guide,
Chear thy hours, and guard thy fide.
When
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
1 When the fatal trump fhall found,
* When th' immortals pour around,
' Heav'n mail thy return atteft,
* Hail'J by myriads of the blefs'd.
* Little native of the flues,
' Lovely penitent, arife ;
' Calm thy bofom, clear thy brow,
' Virtue is thy filler now !
f More delightful are my woes,
' Than the rapture plenfurc knows ; '
* Richer far the weeds, I bring,
Than the robes that grace a kinj.
* On my wars of fhorteft date,
' Crowns of endlcfs triumph wait ;
f On my cares, a period blefs'd ;
' On my toils, eternal reft.
' Come, with Virtue at thy fide;
' Come! be ev'ry bar defy'd,
* Till we gain our native more ;
* Sifter, come, and turn no more !'
THE ROSCIAD.
BY MR. CHARLES CHURCHILL.
RO S C I U S deceas'd, each high-afpiring play'r
Pufh'd all hib int'reil for the vacant chair.
The bufkin'd heroes of the mimick ftage
Jso longer whine in love, and rant in rage ;
< 2 . The
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
The monarch quits his throne, and condefcends 5
Humbly to court the favour of his friends ;
For pity's fake tells undeferv'd milhaps,
And their applaufe to gain, recounts his claps.
Thus the victorious chiefs of ancient Rome,
To win the mob, a fuppliant's form aflume ; IO
In pompous ftrain fight o'er th' extinguifh'd war>
And mew where honour bled in ev'ry fear.
But tho' bare merit might in Rome appear
-The itrongeft plea for favour, 'tis not here ;
We form our judgment in another way, 15
And they will beft fucceed, who befl can pay :
Thofe who would gain the votes of Britifti tribes,
Muil add to force of merit, force of bribes.
What can an after give ? In ev'ry age
Cam hath been rudely banifh'd from the ftage ; 20
Monarchs themfelves, to grief of ev'ry play'r.
Appear as often as their ima^e there ;
They can't, like candidate for other feat,
Pour feas of wine, and mountains raife of meat.
Wine ! they could bribe you with the world as foon ; 25
And of Roaft Beef they only know the tune :
But what they have, they give ; could Clive do more,
Tho' for each million he had brought home four ?
Shuter keeps open houfe at Southwark fair,
And hope^ the friends of humour will be there. 30
In Smithneld, Yates prepares the rival treat,
For thole who raughter love inftead of meat.
Footr, at Old Houfe, for even Foote will be
In felf-conceit an after, bribes with tea ;
Which Wilkinfon at fecond-hand receives, 35
And at the New pours water on the leaves.
The town divided, each runs fev'ral ways,
As paflion, humour, int'reft, party fways.
Things of no mcm.ent, colour of the hair,
Shape of a leg, complexion brown or fair, 40
A drefs
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. ci
A drefs well chofen, or a patch mifplac'd,
Conciliate favour, or create diftafte.
From galleries loud peals of laughter roll,
And thunder Shuter's praifes he's fo droll.
Embox'd, the ladies muft have fomething fmart; 45
Palmer ! O Palmer tops the janty part !
Seated in pit, the dwarf with aching eyes
Looks up, and vows that Barry's out of fize ;
Whilft to fix feet the vig'roas ftripling grown,
Declares that Garrick is another Coan. "5
When place of judgment is by whim fupply'd,
And our opinions have their rife in pride ;
When, in difcourfmg on each mimick el
We praife and cenfure with an eye to felf,
All muft meet friends, and Ackman bids as fair, 5S
In foch a court, as Garrick for the chair.
At length agreed all fquabbles to decide,
By fome one judge the caufe was to be try'd :
But this their fquabbles did afrefh renew ;
Who mould be judge in fuch a trial who ? 60
For Johnfon fome ; but Johnfon, it was fcar'd,
Would be too grave and Sterne too gay appcar'd.
Others for Francklin voted ; but 'twas known,
He ficken'd at all triumphs but his own.
For Colman many ; but the peevifli tongue
Of prudent age, found out that he was young.
For Murphy fome few pilf'ring wits declar'd,
Whilrt Folly clapp'd her hands, and Wifdom ihr'd.
To mifchief train'd, e'en from his mother'.> womb,
Grown old in fraud, tho' yet in manhood's bloom;
Adopting arts by which gay villains rife,
And reach the heights which honeft men defpifr ;
Mute at the bar, and in the fenate loud ;
Dull 'mongft the dulleft, proudeft of the proud ;
A pert, prim prater, of the northern race,
Guilt in his heart, and famine in his face,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Stood forth and thric; he Vv^v'd his lily jiand,
And thrice he twirl'd his tye, thrice fcrok'd liis band.
' At Friendfhip's call,' (thus oft, with trait'rous aim,
Men void of faith, ufurp Faith's facred name) 80
At FrienJfhip's cs.ll I come, by Murphy fent,
' Who thus, by me, develc-pes his inteat :
But left., transfas'd, trie Spirit faouid be loft,
' That fpirit which, in ilvrms of rhet'rick tcfs'd,
* Bounces about,, aad fiies like bottled beer, 85
' In h.5,3 own words his own intentions hear.
" Thanks to my {Heads but, to vile fortunes born,
*' No robes of fur thefe faouiders rauft adorn.
<' Vain your applaufe, no^id from thence I draw;
*' Vain all my wit, for what is wit in law ! 90
. " Twice, (curs'd remembrance I) twice I ftroye to gain
" Admittance 'mongft the .law-initrucled train,
" Who in the Temple and Gray's Inn prepare,
" For clients wretched feet, the legal fnare ;
" Dead to thofe arts which polifh and rsilne, 95
" Deaf to all worth, becaufe that worth was mine,
*' Twice did thofe blockheads ftartle at my name,
" And foul rejection gave me up to fhame ;
" To laws and lawyers then I bade adieu,
" And plans of far more lib'ral note purfue. ico
fc Vv'ho will, may be a judge ray kindling breaft
" Burns for that chair which Rofcius once poffefs'd.
** Here give your votes, your int'reft hers exert,
" And let fuccefs, for once, attend defert."
With ileek appearance, and with ambling pace, 105
And tvpe of vacant head with vacant face,
The Proteus Hill put in his modeft plea,:
' Let favour fpeak for others, worth for me.'
' o, like him, his various pow'r? could call
Into fo many ihapcs, and fhine in all ? no
V- : ^< could f-> nobly grace the motley 1L1,
' . aor, Doftor, Botanift-?
Knows
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 23"
Knows any one fo well fure no one knows
At once to play, prefcribe, compound, compofe ?
Who can But Woodward came Hill flipp'd away, 115
Melting, like ghofts, before the rifing day.
With that low cunning which in focb fupplies,
And amply too, the place of being wife,
Which Nature, kind indulgent parent ! gave
To qualify the blockhead for a knave ; 120
With that fmooth fklfhood, whofe appearance charms,
And reafon of each wholefome doub't difcrms ;
Which to the loweft depths of guile defcend?,
By vileft means pu-rfues the vileft end?,
Wears friendlhip's mafk for purpofes of'-fpite-, 125
Fawns in the day, and butchers in th^ night ;
With that malignant envy, which turns pale,
And fickens, eve'n if a friend prevail ;
Which merit arid fuc'cefs purfues with hate,
And damn's the worth it cannot imitate ; l^o
With the cold caution of a coward's fploen,
Which fears net guilt, but always fcek's a fcrecn ;
Which keeps this maxim ever in her vi?w
What's bafely done; mould be done fafely too ;
With that duH, rooted, callous impudence, i -55
Which, dead to fhame, and ev'ry nicef fenfe,
Ne'er blum'd, tinkers, in fpreading vice's fnare?,
She blunder'd on fome virtue unawares ;
With all thefe blefTmgs, which we feldoin find,
Lavilh'd by Nature on one happy rrtirld, j^.o
A motley figure, of the fribble tribe,
Which heart can fcafce conceive, or pen' defcribe,
Came fimp'ring on; to afcerta'in whofc'fex,
Twelve fage impanKeird matrons \vou!d perplex ;
Nor male, hdr fcittale ; neither, and yet both ; 145
Of neuter gender, tho' of Irifh growth ;
A fix foot fuckling, mincing in IT'S gait,
AfFc:led, peevifh, prim, and delicate !
Fearful
4 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Fearful it feem'd, tho' of athletick make,
Leil brutal breezes fhould too roughly lhake 150
It's tender form, and favage motion fpread
O'er it's pale cheeks the horrid manly red.
Much did it talk, in it's own pretty phrafe,
Of genius and of tafte, of play'rs and plays ;
Much too of writing which itfelf had wrote* 15$
Of fpecial merit, tho' of little note ;
For Fate, in a llrange humour, had decreed
That what it wrote, none but itfelf mould read :
Much, too, it chatter'd of dramatick laws,
Misjudging criticks, and mifplac'd applaufe ; 160
Then, with a feif-complacent, jutting air,
It fmiPd, it fmirk'd, it wriggled to the chair ;
And with an aukward brifknefs, not it's own.
Looking around, and perking on the throne,
Triumphant feem'd when that ftrange favage dame, 165
Known but to few, or only known by name,
Plain Common Senle, appear'dj by Nature there
Appointed, with Plain Truth, to guard the chair :
The pageant faw, and blaited with her frown,
To it's firft ftate of nothing melted down. 170
Nor mall the Mufe (for even there the pride
Of this vain nothing fhall be mortify *d)
Nor mall the Mufe (mould Fate ordain her rhymes,
Fond, pleafing thought 1 to live in after-times)
With fuch a trifler's name her pages blot ; ijc
Known be the character, the thing forgot ;
Let it, to difappoint each future aim,
Live without fex, and die without a name 1
Cold-blooded criticks, by enervate fires
Scarce hammer'd out, when Nature's feeble fires 180
Glimmer'a their laft ; whofe fluggim blood, half-froze,
Crcepr lab'ring thro' the veins ; whofe heart ne'er glows
With fancy-kindled heat a fervile race,
V7ho in mere want of fault all merit place j
Who
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 2 ;
Who blind obedience pay to ancient fchools 1 85
Bigots to Greece, and ftaves to mufty rules,
With folemn confequence declar'd, that none
Could judge that caufe, but Sophocles alone :
Dupes to their fancy'd excellence, the crewd,
Obfequious to the facred dictate, bow'd. 190
When from amidft the throng a youth flood forth,
Unknown his perfon, not unknown his worth :
His look befpoke applaufe ; alone he flood,
Alone he ftemm'd the mighty critick flood :
He talk'd of ancients as the man became, - 195
Who priz'd our own, but envied not their fame ;
With noble rev'rence fpoke of Greece and Rome,
And fcorn'd to tear the laurel from the tomb.
' But more than j aft to other countries grown,
* Muft we turn bafe apoftates to our own ? 200
Where do thefe words of Greece and Rome excel,
' That England may not pfeafe the ear as well ?
1 What mighty magick's in the place or air,
f That all perfections needs muft centre there ?
' In ftates, let ftrangers blindly be preferr'd ; 205
f In ftate of letters, Merit flvould be heard.
' Genius is of no country ; her pure ray
' Spreads all abroad, as gen'ral as the day ;
* Foe to reftraint, from place to place me flies,
' And may hereafter e'en in Holland rife. 210
* May not, (to give a pleafmg fancy fcope,
' And chear a patriot heart with patriot hope)
' May not fome great, extenfive genius, raife
' The name of Britain 'bove Athenian praife ;
* And, whilft brave thirft of fame his bofom warms, 215
' Make England great in letters as in arms ?
' There may there hath and Shakefpeare's mufe afpires
' Beyond the reach of Greece ; with native fires,
' Mounting aloft, he wings his daring flight,
* Whilft Sophocles below Hands trembling at his height. 220
D Why
26 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
' Why mould we then abroad for judges roam,
' When abler judges we may nd at home ?
' Happy in tragick and in comick pow'rs,
' Have we not Shakefpeare ? is not Johnfon ours ?
' For them, your, nat'ral judges, Britons ! vote; 225
' They'll judge like Britons, who like Britons wrote.'
He faid, and conquer'd Senfe refum'd her fway.
And difappointed pedants flalk'd away :
Shakefpeare and Johnfon, with deferv'd applaufe,
Joint judges were ordain'd to try the caufe. 230
Mean time the ftranger ev'ry voice employ'd,
To afk or tell his name Who is it r Lloyd.
Thus, when the aged friends of Job flood mute,
And, tamely prudent, gave up the difpute,
Elihu, with the decent warmth of youth, 235
Boldly flood forth the advocate of Truth,
Confuted Falfhood, and difabled Pride,
While baffled Age flood fnarling at his fide.
The day of trial's fix'd ; nor any fear
Left day of trial fhould be put off here. 240
Caufes but feldom for delay can call,
In courts where forms are few, fees none at all.
The morning came; nor find I that the fun,
As he on other great events hath done,
Put on a brighter robe than what he wore 245
To go his journey in the day before.
Full in the centre of a fpacious plain,
On plan entirely new, where nothing vain,
Nothing magnificent, appear'd, but Art,
With decent modefty perform'd her part, 2 $o
Rofe a tribunal ; from no other court
It borrow'd ornament, or fought fupport :
No juries here were pack'd to kill or clear;
No bribes were taken, nor oaths broken here ;
No gownfmen, partial to a client's caufe, 255
To their own purpofe turn'd the pliant laws ;
Each
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 2?
Each judge was true and fteady to his truft,
As Mansfield wife, and as old Fofter juft.
In the firft feat, in robe of various dyes,
A noble wildnefs flafhing from his eyes, 260
Sat Shakefpeare in one hand a wand he bore,
For mighty wonders fam'd in days of yore ;
The other held a globe, which to his will
Obedient turn'd, and own'd the matter's flcill :
Things of the nobleft kind his genius drew, 265
And look'd through Nature at a fmgle view ;
A loofe he gave to his unbounded foul,
And taught new lands to rife, new feas to roll ;
Call'd into being fcenes unknown before,
And paffing Nature's bounds, was fomething more. . 270
Next Johnfon fat, in ancient learning train'd,
His rigid judgment fancy's flights reftrain'd,
Corre&ly prun'd each wild luxuriant thought,
Mark'd out her courfe, nor fpar'd a glorious fault :
The book of Man he read with niceft art, 275
And ranfack'd all the fecrets of the heart ;
Exerted penetration's utmoft force,
And trac'd each paflion to it's proper fource ;
Then, ftrongly mark'd, in livclieft colours drew,
And brought each foible forth to publick view : 280
The coxcomb felt a lafti in ev'ry word,
And fools hung out, their brother fools deterr'd :
His comick humour kept the world in awe,
And Laughter frighten'd Folly more than Law.
But, hark ! the trumpet founds, the crowd gives way, 285
And the proceffion comes in juft array.
Now mould I, in fome fweet poetick Ime,
Offer up incenfe at Apollo's flirine,
Invoke the Mufe to quit her calm abode,
And waken mem'ry with a fleeping ode : 290
For how mould mortal man, in mortal verfe,
Their titles, merits, or their names, rehearfe !
D 2 But
3 BEAUTIES -OF POETRY.
But give, kind Dulnefs ! memory and rhyme,
We'll put off Genius till another time.
Firft, Order came with folemn ftep and flow, 295
IB meafur'd time his feet were taught to go :
Behind, from time to time, he caft his eye,
Left this mould quit his place, that ftep awry :
Appearances to fave, his only care ; s
So things feenv right, no matter what they are : - 300
In him his parents faw themfelves renewM,
Begotten by Sir Critick on Saint Prude.
Then come Drum, Trumpet, Hautboy, Fiddle, Flute ;
Next Snuffer, Sweeper, Shiftef, Soldiw, Mute :
Legions of angels all in white advance ; 305
Furies all fire, come forward in a dance ;
Pantomime figures then are brought to view,
Fools hand in hand with fools, go two by two.
Next came the Treafurer of either Houfe,
One with fall purfe, t'other with not a fous : 3 *o
Behind a group of figures awe create,
Set off with all th' impertinence of ftate ;
By lace and feather confecrate to fame,
Expletive kings and queens without a name.
Here Havard, all ferene, in the fame ftrains, 315
Leves, hates, and rages, triumphs, and complains ;
His eafy vacant face proclaim'd a heart
Which could not feel emotions, nor impart.
With him came mighty Davies on my life,
That Davies hath a very ppetty wife! 520
Statefman all over ! in plots famous grown I-
He mouths a fentence, as curs mouth a bone.
Next Holland came with truly tragick ftalk,
He creeps, he flies a hero mould not walk.
As if with Heav'n he warr'd, hi;, eager eyes 325
Planted their batteries againft the ikies ;
Attitude, aaion,.air, pauie, ftart, figh, groan,
He borrow'd, and made ufe of as hia own.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 29
By Fortune thrown on any other ftage,
He might perhaps have pleas'd an eafy age ; 330
But now appears a copy, and no more,
Of fomething better we have feen before.
The aftor who would build a folid fame,
Mult imitation's fervile arts difclaim ;
Adi from himfelf, on his own bottom ftand: 335
I hate e'en Garrick, thus, at fecond-hand.
Behind came King bred up in modeft lore,
Bdhful and young, he fought Hibernia's more;
Hibernia ! fam'd, 'bove ev'ry other grace,
For matchlefs intrepidity of face. 340
From her his features caught the gen'rous flame,
And bid defiance to all fenfe of fhame :
Tutor'd by her all rivals to furpafs,
'Mongft Drury's fbns he comes, and fhines in Brafs.
Lo, Yates '.without the leaft fineffe of art, 345
He gets applaufe :! wifh he'd get his part.
When hot impatience is in full career,
How vilely f Hark'e ! Hark'e !* grates the ear ;
When adlive fancy from the brain is fent,
And Hands on tip-toe for fome wiih'd event, 350
I hate thofe carelefs blunders, which recal
Sufpended fenfe, and prove it fiction all.
In characters of low and vulgar mould,
Where Nature's coarfeft features we behold,
Where, deftitute of ev'ry decent grace, 355
Unmanner'd jefts are blurted in your face ;
There Yates, with juftice ftricl, attention draws,
Afts truly from himfelf, and gains applaufe ;
But when to pleafe himfelf, or charm his faife,
He aims at fomething in politer Hfe, 36
When, blindly thwarting Nature's (fubborn plan,
He treads the ftage by way of gentleman,
The clown, who no one touch of breeding know,,
Looks like Tom Errand drefs'd in Clincher's cloath..
Foni
3 o BEAUTIES OT POETRY.
Fond of his drefs, fond of his perfon grown, 36 J
Laagh'd at by all, and to himfelf unknown,
From fide to fide he ftruts, he fmiles, he prates,
And feems to wonder what's become of Yates.
Woodward, endu'd with various tricks of face,
Great matter in the fcience of grimace, 370
From Ireland ventures, fav'rite of the town,
Lur'd by the pleafing profpecl of renown ;
A fpeaking Harlequin, made up of whim,
He Uvifts, he twines, he tortures ev'ry limb;
Plays to the eye with a mere monkey's art, 375
And leaves to fenfe the conqueft of the heart. '. \
We laugh, indeed ; but, on reflection's birth, .<.'.
We wonder at ourfelves, and curfe our mirth.
His walk of parts he fatally mifplac'd,
And inclination fondly took for talle ; 3^
Hence hath the town fo often feen difplay'd, --.' .
Beau in burlefque, high life in mafquerade.
But when bold wits, not fuch as patch up plays
Cold and correct, in thefe infipid days,
Some comick character, ftrong featur'd, urge 385
To probability's extremeft verge,
Where modeft judgment her decree fufpends,
And for a time nor cenfures nor commends ;
Where criticks can't determine on the fpot,
Whether it is in nature found or not; 390
There Woodward fafely fhall hi* pow'rs exert,
Nor fail of favour where he fhews defert ;
Hence he in Bobadil fuch praifes bore,
Such worthy praifes, Kitely fcarce had more.
By turns transform'd into all kind of fliapes, 395
Conftant to none, Foote laughs, cries, ftruts, and fcrapes :
Now in the centre, now in van or rear,
The Proteus fliifts, bawd, p?.rfon, auctioneer.
His ftrokes of humour, and hi burfts of fport,
Are all contain'din this one uvrd. DISTORT. 400
Doth
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 31
Doth a man flutter, look afquint, or halt,
Mimicks draw humour out of Nature's fault;
With perfonal defeats their mirth adorn,
And hang misfortunes out to publick fcorn.
E'en I, whom Nature caft in hideous mould, 405
Whom having made, me trembled to behold,
Beneath the load of mimickry may groan,
And find that Nature's errors are my own.
Shadows behind of Foote and Woodward came,
Wilkinfon this, Obrien was that name. 410
Strange to relate, but wonderfully true,
That even fhadows have their fhadows too!
With not a fingle comick pow'r endu'd,
The firft a mere mere mimick's mimick flood;
The laft, by Nature form'd to pleafe, who mows, 415
In Johnfon's Stephen, which way genius grows,
Self quite put off, affedls with too much art
To put on Woodward in each mangled part ;
Adopts his fhrug, his wink, his flare ; nay, more,
His voice, and croaks ; for Woodward croak'd before. 420
When a dull copier fimple grace neglecls,
And rells his imitation in defefts,
We readily forgive ; but fuch vile arts
Are double guilt in men of real parts.
By Nature form'd in her perverfeft mood, 4^5
With no one requifite of art endu'd,
Next Jackfon came Obferve that fettled glare,
Which better fpeaks a puppet than a play'r ;
Lift to that voice did ever difcord hear
Sounds fo well fitted to her untun'd ear ? 430
When, to enforce fome very tender part,'
The right-hand fleeps by inflindl on the heart,
His foul, of ev'ry other thought bereft,
Is anxious only where to place the left :
He fobs and pants, to foothe his weeping fpoufe ; 435
To foothe his weeping mother, turns and bows :
Aukward,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Aukward, embarrafs'd, ftiff, without the (kill
Of moving gracefully, or ftanding frill ;
One leg, as if fufpioious of his brother,
Defirous feems to run away from t'other. -440
Some errors, handed down from age to age,
Plead cuftom's force,' and ftill poffefs the ftage.
That's vile Should we a parent's- faults adore ;
And err, becaufe our fathers err'd before !
If, inattentive to the author's mind, 445
Some aftors made the jeft they could not find ;
If by low tricks they marr'd fair Nature's mien,
And blurr'd the graces of the fimple fcene ;
Shall we, if reafon rightly is employ'd,
Not fee their faults ; or, feeing, not avoid ? 45
When Falftaff Hands detefted in a lye,
Why, without meaning, rolls Love's glaffy eye ?
Why there's no caufe at leaft, no caufe we know
It was the fafhion twenty years ago.
Fafhion ! a word which knaves and fools may ufe, .455
.Their knavery and folly to excufe.
To copy beauties, forfeits all pretence
To fame ; to copy faults, is want of fenfe.
Yet (tho' in fome particulars he fails,
Some few particulars, where mode prevails) 460
If in thefe hallow'd times, when fober, fad,
All gentlemen are melancholy mad;
When 'tis not deem'd fo great a crime, by half,
To violate a veftal, as to laugh;
Rude mirth may hope prefumpt'ous to engage 465
An aft of toleration for the ftage;
And courtiers will, like reafonable creatures,
Sufpend vain fafhion, and unfcrew their features ;
Old Falftaff, play'd by Love, fliall pleafe once more,
And humour fet the audience in a roar. 470
Aftors I've feen, and of no vulgar name,
Who being from one part poffefs'd of fame,
Whether
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 33
Whether they are to laugh, cry, whine, or bawl.
Still introduce that fav'rite part in all.
Here, Love, be cautious ne'er be thou betray'd 475
To call in that wag Falftaff's dang'rous aid ;
Like Goths of old, howe'er he feems a friend,
He'll feize that throne you wifh him to defend.
In a peculiar mould by humour caft,
For Falftaff fram'd himfelf the firft and laft 480
He ftands aloof from all maintains his ftate,
And fcorns, like Scotfmen, to affimilate.
Vain all difguife too plain we fee the trick,
Tho' the knight wears the weeds of Dominick ;
And Boniface, difgrac'd, betrays the fmack, 485
In ANNO DOMINE, of Falitaff's fack.
Arms crofs'd, brows bent, eyes fix'd, feet marching flow,
A band of malcontents with fpleen o'erflow ;
Wrapt in conceit's impenetrable fog,
Which pride, like Phoebus, draws from ev'ry bog, 490
They curfe the managers, and curfe the town,
Whofe partial favour keeps fuch merit down.
But if fome man, more hardy than the reft,
Should dare attack thefe gnatlings in their neft,
At once they rife with impotence of rage, 49>
Whet their fmall ftings and buza about the ftage.
' 'Tis breach of privilege ! Shall any d~re
c To arm fatirick truth againil a play'r ?
* Prefcriptive rights we plead, time out of mind;
* Actors, unlafh'd themfelves, may laih mankind.' 500
What ! fhall Opinion, then, of Nature free,
And Hb'ral as the vagrant air, agree
To ruil in chains like thefe, impos'd by things
Which, lefs than nothing, ape the pride of kings ?
No tho' half poets with half players join, 505
To curfe the freedom of each honeft line ;
Tho' rage and malice dim their faded cheek,
What ths Mufe freely thinks, (he'll freely fpeajc ;
E With
34 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
With juft difdain of ev'ry paltry fneer,
Stranger alike to flattery and fear, 51^
In purpofe fix'd, and to herfelf a rule,
Publick contempt (hall wait the publick fool.
Aultin would always gliflen in French filks j
Ackman would Norris be and. Packer, Wilks;
For who, like Ackman, can with humour pleafe? 515
Who can, like Packer, charm with fprightly cafe ?
Higher than all the reft, fee Branfby ftrut,
A mighty Gulliver in Lilliput !
Ludicrous Nature ! which at once could mow
A man fo very high, fo very low. 520
If I forget thee, Blakes, or if I fay
Aught hurtful, may I never fee thee play 1
Letcriticks, with a fupercilious air,
Decry thy various merit, and declare
Frenchman is ftill at top but fcorn that rage, 525
Which, in attacking thee, attacks the age.
French follies, univerfally embrac'd,
At once provoke our mirth, and form our tafte.
Long from a nation ever hardly us'd,
At random cenfur'd, wantonly abus'd, 53.
Have Britons drawn their fport ; with partial view
Form'd gen'ral notions from the rafcal few ;
Condemn'd a people, as for vices known,
Which, from their country banifh'd, feek our own.
At length, howe'er, the flavim chain is broke, 535
And Senfe, awaken'd, fcorns her ancient yoke :
Taught by thee, Moody, we now learn to raife
Mirth from their foibles, from their virtues praife.
Next came the legion which our fummer Bayes
From alleys here and there contriv'd to raife, 540
. -Flum'd with vaft hopes, and certain to fucceed,
With wits who cannot write, and fcarce can read.
Vet'rans no more fupport the rotten caufe,
No more from Elliot's worth they reap applaufe;
Each
BEAUTIES OF POETRY 35
Each on himfelf determines to rely ; c^.c
Be Yates difbanded, and let Elliot fly.
Never did play'rs fo well an author fit,
To Nature dead, and foes declar'd to wit-
So bud each tongue, fo empty was each head,
So much they talk'd, fo very little faid, 550
So wond'rous dull, and yet fo wond'rous vain,
At once fo willing and unfit to reign,
That Reafon fwore, nor would the oath recal,
Their mighty mafter's foul inform'd them all.
As one with various difappointments fad, 555
Whom dulnefs only kept from being mad,
Apart from all the reft great M urphy came
Common to fools and wits the rage of fame.
What tho' the fons of Nonfenfe hail him Sire,
Auditor, Author, Manager, and Squire? 560
His reftlefs foul's ambition flops not there ;
To make his triumphs perfeft, dub him Play'r.
In perfon tall, a figure form'd to pleafe,
If fymmetry could charm, depriv'd of cafe :
When motionlefs he Hands, we all approve ; 565
What pity 'tis the thing was made to move !
His voice, in one dull, deep, unvary'd found,
Seems to break forth from caverns under ground;
From hollow chefl the low fepulchral note
Unwilling heaves, and ftruggles in his throat. 570
Could authors butcher'd give an aflor grace,
All muft to him refign the foremoft place.
When he attempts, in fome one fav'rite part,
To ape the feelings of a manly heart,
His honeft features the difguife defy, 575
And his face loudly gives his tongue the lye.
Still in extremes, he know: no happy mean,
Or raving mad, or ftupidly lerene:
In cold-wrought fcenes the lifelefs aftor flags ;
In paflion, tears the paffion into rag^. 580
F. z Can
3 6 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Can none remember ? Yes, I know all mutt,
When in the Moor he ground his teeth to duft,
When o'er the ftage he Folly's ftandard bore,
Whilft Common Senfe ftood trembling at the door.
How few are found with real talents blefs'd ! 585
Fewer with Nature's gifts contented reft.
Man from his fphere eccentrick ftarts aftray ;
All hunt for fame, but moft miftake the way.
Bred at St. Omer's to the fhuffiing trade,
The hopeful youth a Jefuit might have made, 590
With various readings ftor'd his empty fcull,
Learn'd without fenfe, and venerably dull ;
Or at fome banker's deflc, like many more,
Content to tell that two and two make four,
His name had ftood in city annals fair, 595
And prudent dulnefs mark'd him for a may'r.
What then could tempt thee, in a critick age,
Such blooming hopes to forfeit on a ftage ?
Could it be worth thy wondrous wafte of pains,^
To publifh to the world thy lack of brains ? 600
Or might not Reafon e'en to thee have mown,
Thy greateft praife had been, to live unknown?
Yet let not vanity like thine defpair ;
Fortune makes Folly her peculiar care.
A vacant throne high-plac'd in Smithfield view, 605
To facred Dulnefs and her nrft-born due,
Thither with hafte in happy hour repair, '
Thy birth-right claim, nor fear a rival there ;
Shuter himfelf mall own thy j after claim,
And venal Ledgers puff their Murphy's name ; 610
Whilft Vaughan or Dapper, call him which you will,
Shall blow the trumpet, and give out the bill.
There rule fecure from criticks and" from fenfe,
Nor once fliall Genius rife to give offence ;
Paternal peace mail blefs the happy more, 615
And little factions break thy reft no more.
From
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 37
From Covcnt Garden crowds promifcuous go,
Whom the Mufe knows not, nor defires to know :
Vet'rans they feem'd, but knew of arms no more
Than if, till that time, arms they never bore : 620
Like Weitminfter militia, train'd to fight,
They fcarcely knew the left hand from the right :
Afham'd among fuch troops to ihew the head,
wTkeir chiefs were fcatter'd, and their heroes fled.
Sparks, at his glafs fat comfortably down, 62$
To fep'rate frown from fmile, and fmile from frown.
Smith, the genteel, the airy, and the fmart,
Smith was juft gone to fchool to fay his part.
Rofs (a misfortune which we often meet)
Was faft afleep at dear Statira's feet ; 630
Statira, with her hero to agree,
Stood ou her feet as faft afleep as he.
Macklin, who largely deals in half-form'd founds,
Who wantonly tranfgrefTes Nature's bounds,
Whofe acting's hard, affected, and conllrain'd, 635
Whofe features, as each other they difdain'd,
At variance fet, inflexible and coarfe,
Ne'er know the workings of united force,
Ne'er kindly foften to each other's aid,
Nor mew the mingled pow'rs of light and fhade ; 40
No longer for a thanklefs ftage concern'd,
To worthier thoughts his mighty genius turn'd,
Harangu'd, gave lectures, made each fimple elf
Almoft as good a fpeaker as himfelf ;
Whilft the whole town, mad with miftaken zeal, 644
An aukward rage for elocution feel,
Dull cits and grave divines his praife proclaim,
And join with Sheridan's their Macklin's name.
Shuter, who never car'd a fmgle pin,
Whether he left out nonfenfe, or put in; 650
Who aim'd at wit, tho' levell'd in the dark,
The random arrow fcldom hit the mark,
A,
3 8 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
At Iflington, all by the placid ftream,
Where city fvvains in lap of dulnefs dream ;
Where quiet as her ftrains their ftrains do flow, 655
That all the patron by the bards may know,
Secret as night, with Rolt's experienc'd aid,
The plan of future operations laid,
Projected fchemes the fummer months to chear,
And fpin out happy folly thro' the year. 660
' -But think not, tho' thefe daftard chiefs are fled,
That Covent Garden troops mall want a head:
Harlequin comes, their chief ! See, from afar,
The hero feated in fantaftick car !
Wedded to Novelty, his only arms 656
Are wooden fwords, wands, talifmans, and charms :
On one fide Folly fits, by fome call'd Fun ;
And, on the other, his arch patron, Luu ;
Behind, for liberty athirft in vain,
Senfe, helplefs captive ! drags the galling chain ; 670
Six rude mif-fhapen beafts the chariot draw,
Whom Reafon loaths, and Nature never faw !
Monfters with tails of ice, and heads of fire,
Gorgons and Hydras, and Chymxras dire.
Each was beftrode by full as monftrous wight, 675
Giant, Dwarf, Genius, Elf, Hermaphrodite.
The town, as ufual, met him in full cry ;
The town, as ufual, knew no reafon why:
Hut famion fo diredb, and moderns raife,
On fafliion's mould'ring bafe, their tranfient praife. 680
Next, to the field a band of females draw
Their force, for Britain owns no Salique law :
Juft to their worth, we female rights admit,
Nor bar their claim to empire, or to wit.
Firft, giggling, plotting chamber-maids arrive, 685
Hoy dons and romps, led on by Gen'ral Clive ;
In fpite of outward blemiflies me fltone,
For humour fam'd, and humour all her own :
Eafy,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 39
Eafy, as if at home, the ftage (he trod,
Nor fought the critick's praife, nor fear'd his rod : 690
Original in fpirit, and in eafe,
She pleas'd, by hiding all attempts to pleafe :
No comick adlrefs ever yet could raife,
On humour's bafe, more merit or more praife.
With all the native vigour of fixteen, 695
Among the merry troop confpicuous feen,
See lively Pope advance in jig, and trip
Corinna, Cherry, Honeycomb, and Snip ;
Not without art, but yet to Nature true,
She charms the town with humour juft, yet new : 70*
Chear'd by her promife, we the lefs deplore
The fatal time when Clive fhall be no more.
Lo ! Vincent comes with fimple grace array'd,
She laughs at paltry arts, and fcorns parade :
Nature thro' her is by reflection mown, 705
Whilft Gay once more knows Polly for his own.
Talk not to me of diffidence and fear
I fee it all, but muft forgive it here ;
Defects like thefe, which modeft terrors caufe,
From impudence itfelf extort applaufe. 713
Candour and Reafon ftill take Virtue's part ;
We love e'en foibles in fo good a heart.
Let Tommy Arne, with ufual pomp of ftyle,
Whofe chief, whofe only merit's to compile,
Who, mennly pilf'ring here and there a bit, 715
Deals mufick out, as Murphy deals out wit,
Publifh propofals, laws for tafte prefcribe,
And chaunt the praife of an Italian tribe ;
Let him reverfe kind Nature's firft decrees,
And teach e'en Brent a method not to pleafe ; 720
But never mail a truly Britifti age
Bear a vile race of eunuchs on the ftage :
The boafted work's call'd National in vain,
If one Italian voice pollutes the ftrain.
Where
4 o BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Where tyrants rule, and flaves with joy obey,
Let flavifli minftrels pour th' enervate lay ;
To Britons far more noble pleafures fpring,
In native notes whilft Beard and Vincent fing.
Might figure give a title unto fame,
What rival fhould with Yates difpute her claim ?
But juftice may not partial trophies raife,
Nor fink the aftrefs in the woman's praife.
Still hand in hand her words and aftions go,
And the heart feels more than the features mow;
For thro' the regions of that beauteous face
We no variety of paffions trace ;
Dead to the foft emotions of the heart,
No kindred foftnefs can thofe eyes impart :
The brow, ftill fix'd in forrow's fullen frame,
Void of diftin&icn, marks all parts the fame.
What's a fine perfon, or a beauteous face,
Unlefs deportment gives them decent grace ?
Blefs'd with all other requisites to pleafe,
Some want the ftriking elegance of eafe ;
The curious eye their aukward movement tires ;
They feem like puppets led about by wires :
Others, like ftatues, in one pofture Hill,
Give great ideas of the workman's (kill ;
Wond'ring, his art we praife the more we view,
And only grieve he gave not motion too.
Weak, of themfelves, are what we beauties call ;
It is the manner which gives ftrength to all :
This teaches ev'ry beauty to unite,
And brings them forward in the nobleft light.
Happy in this, behold, amidft the throng,
With tranfient gleam of grace, Hart fweeps along.
If all the wonders of eternal grace,
A perfon finely turn'd, a mould of face,
Where, union rsre, Expreffion's lively force
With Beauty's foTteft mngick holds difcoune,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 41
Attraft the eye ; if feelings, void of art,
Rouze the quick paflions, and inflame the heart ;
If mufick fweetly breathing from the tongue,
Captives the ear, Bride rauft not pafs unfung.
When fear, which rank ill-nature terms conceit, 765
By time and cuftom conquer'd, ftiall retreat ;
When judgment, tutor'd by experience fage,
Shall fhoot abroad, and gather ftrength from age ;
When Heav'n in mercy mall the ftage releafe
From the dull {lumbers of a ftill-life piece ; 770
When fome ftale flow'r, difgraceful to the walk,
Which long hath hung, tho' wither 'd, on the ftalk.
Shall kindly drop, then Bride mall make her way,
And merit find a paffage to the day j
Brought into adlion, me at once fliall raife, 775
Her own renown, and juftify our praife.
Form'd for the tragick fcene, to grace the ftage
With rival excellence of love and rage,
Miilrefs of fiach foft art, with matchlefs fltill
To turn and wind the paffions as me will j 780
To melt the heart with fympathetick woe,
Awake the figh, and teach the tear to flow ;
To put on frenzy's wild diftrafted glare,
And freeze the foul with horror and dt-fpair ;
With juft defert enrolPd in endlefs fame, 785
Confcious of worth fuperior, Gibber caine.
When poor Alicia's madd'ning brains are rack'd,
And ftrongly imag'd griefi her mind diiiracl,
Struck with her gri.ef, I Catch tlie madnefs too,
My brain turns round, the headlefs trunk I view ! 790
The roof cracks; (hakes, and falls ! new horrors rife,
And Reafon bury'd in the 'ruin lies.
Nobly difdainful of -each flavim art,
She makes her firft attack upon the heart;
Pleas'd with the fummons, it receives her laws, 795
And all is filence, fympathy, applaufc.
F But
4 z BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
But when, by fond ambition drawn afide,
Giddy with praife, and puff'd with female pride,
She quits the tragick fcene, and in pretence
To comick merit breaks down Nature's fence, 8qo
I fcarcely can believe my ears or eyes,
Or find out Gibber thro' the dark difguife.
Pritchard, by Nature for the ftage defign'd,
In perfon graceful, and in fenfe refin'd ;
Her art as much as Nature's friend became, 805
Her voice as free from blemifh as her fame :
Who knows fo well in majefty to pleafe,
Attemper'd with the graceful charms of eafe ?
When Congreve's favour'd pantomime to grace,
She conies a captive queen of Moorilh race ; 810
When love, hate, jealoufy, defpair, and rage,
With wildeft tumults in her breaft engage,
Still equal to herfelf is Zara feen ;
Her paflions are the paflions of a queen.
When flie to murder whets the tim'rous Thane, 815
I feel ambition rufll through ev'ry vein ;
Perfuafion hangs upon her daring tongue,
My heart grows flint, and ev'ry nerve's new flrung.
In comedy f Nay, there,' cries Critick, ' hold !
' Pritchard's for comedy too fat and old: 820
1 Who can, with patience, bear the grey coquette,
' Or force a laugh with over-grown Julett?
' Her fpeech, look, aftion, humour, all arejuft,
' But then her age and figure give difguft.'
Are foibles, then, and graces of the mind, gej
lu real life, to fize or age confin'd?
Do fpirits flow, and is good-breeding plac'd,
In any fet circumference of waift?
As we grow old, doth affectation ceafe ;
Or gives not age new vigour to caprice? 830
If in originals thefe things appear,
Why fhould we bar them 'in the copy here ?
The
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 43
The nice punctilio-mongers of this age,
The grand minute reformers of the ftage,
Slaves to propriety of ev'ry kind, 835
Some ftandard meafure for each part fliould find;
Which when the beft of actors mall exceed,
Let it devolve to one of fmaller breed.
All Actors, too, upon the back mould bear
Certificate of birth time when place where ; 840
For how can criticks rightly fix their worth,
Unlefs they know the minute of their birth ?
An audience, too, deceiv'd, may find, too late,
That they have clapp'd an actor out of date.
Figure, I own, at firft may give offence, 845
And harfhly ftrike the eye's too curious fenfe ;
But when perfections of the mind break forth,
Humour's chafte fallies, judgment's folid worth;
When the pure genuine flame, by Nature taught,
Springs into fenfe, and ev'ry action's thought; 850
Before fuch merit all objections fly,
Pritchard's genteel, and Garrick's fix feet high.
Oft have I, Pritchard, feen thy wond'rous (kill ;
Confefs'd thee great, but find thee greater Hill ;
That worth which (hone in fcatter'd rays before, 855
Collected now, breaks forth witii double pow'r.
The Jealous Wife ! on that thy trophies raife,
Inferior only to the author's praife.
From Dublin, fam'd in legends of romance,
For mighty magick of enchanted Lince, 860
With which her heroes arm'd, victorious prove,
And like a flood, run o'er the land of Love,
Moflbp and Barry came names ne'er defign'd
By Fate in the fame fentence to be join'd.
Rais'd by the breath of popular acclaim, 865
They mounted to the pinnacle of fame ;
There the weak brain, made giddy with the height,
Spurr'd on the rival chiefs to mortal fight :
F z Thui
44 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Thus fportive boys, around fome bafon's brim,
Behold the pipe-drawn bladders circling fwim ; 870
But if, from lungs more potent, there arife
Two bubbles of a more than common fize,
Eager for honour, they for fight prepare,
Bubble meets bubble, and both fink to air.
Moflbp, attach'd to military plan, 875
Still kept his eye fix'd on his right-hand man ;
Whilft the mouth meafures words with feeming {kill,
The right-hand labours, and the left lies ftill ;
For he refolv'd on Scripture grounds to go,
What the right doth, the left-hand mall not know. 880
With ftudy'd impropriety of fpeech
He foars beyond the hackney critick's reach ;
To epithets allots emphatick ftate,
Whilft principals, ungrac'd, like lacquies, wait ;
In ways firft trodden by himfelf excels, 885
And Hands alone in indeclinables ;
Conjunction, prepofition, adverb, join,
To ftamp new vigour on the nervous line :
In monofyllables his thunders roll,
He, flie, it, and we, ye, they, fright the foul. 890
In perfon taller than die common fize,
Behold where Barry draws admiring eyes !
When laboring paflions, in his bofom pent,
Convulfive rage, and ftruggling heave for vent,
Spectators, with imagin'd terrors warm, goc
Anxious expel the burfting of the ftorm ;
But all unfit in fuch a pile to dwell,
His voice comes forth like Echo from her cell;
To fwell the tempeft needful aid denies,
And all adown the ftage in feeble murmurs dies. 900
What man, like Barry, with fuch pains can err,
In elocution, afticn, character?
What man could give, if Barry was not here,
Such well-applauded tendernefs to Lear ?
Who
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 45
Who elfe can fpeak fo very, very fine, 905
That fenfe may kindly end with cv'ry line ?
Some dozen lines before the ghoft is there,
Behold him for the folemn fcene prepare ;
See how he frames his eyes, poises each limb,
Puts the whole body into proper trim : 9:0
From whence we learn,- with no great ftretch of art,
Five lines hence comes a ghoft ; and, Ha ! a ftart.
When he appears moft perfect, ftill we find
Something which jars upon and hurts the mind :
Whatever lights upon a part are thrown, 915
We fee too plainly they are not his own :
No flame from Nature ever yet he caught,
Nor knew a feeling which he was not taught :
He rais'd his trophies on the bafe of art,
And conn'd his paflrons as he conn'd his part. 9-2*
Quin, from afar, lur'd by the fcent of fame,
A ftage leviathan, put in his claim,
Pupil of Betterton and Booth. Alone,
Sullen he walk'd, and deem'd the chair his own ;
For how mould moderns,- muflirooms of the day, 925
Who ne'er thofe mailers knew, know how to play ?
Grey-bearded vet'rans, who with partial tongue,
Extol the times when they themfelves were young ;
Who having loft all relilh for the ftage,
See not their own defefts, but lafli the age ; 9*30
Receiv'd, with joyful murmurs of applaufc,
Their darling chief, and lin'd his fav'rite caufe.
Far be it from the candid Mufe, to tread
Infulting o'er the aflies of the dead ;
But, juft to living merit, me maintains, 935
And dares the teft, whilft Garrick's genius reigns,
Ancients in vain endeavour to excel,
Happily prais'd, if they could aft as well.
But tho' prefcription's force we difallow,
Nor to antiquity fubmiflive bow ; 940
Tho f
46 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Tho' we deny imaginary grace,
Founded on accidents of time and place,
Yet real worth of ev'ry growth fhall bear
Due praife ; nor muft we, Quin, forget thee there.
His words bore fterling weight ; nervous and ftrong, 945
In manly tides of fenfe they roll'd along :
Happy in art, he chiefly had pretence
To keep up numbers, yet not forfeit fenfe.
No adtor ever greater heights could reach,
In all the labour'd artifice of fpeech. 950
Speech ! is that all ? And mall an ador found '
An univerfal fame on partial ground ?
Parrots themfelves fpeak properly by rote,
And in fix months my dog mall howl by note.
I laugh at thofe who, when the ftage they tread, 955
Negleft the heart to compliment the head ;
With ftrift propriety their care's confin'd
To weigh out words, while paflion halts behind :
To fyllable-difleaors they appeal,
Allow them accent, cadence fools may feel ; 960
But, fpite of all the criticifmg elves,
Thofe who would make us feel, mull feel themfelves!
His eyes in .gloomy focket taught to roll,
Proclaim'd the fullen habit of his foul :
Heavy and phlegmatick he trod the ftage, 965
Too proud for tendernefs, too dull for rage.
When Helor's lovely widow mines in tears,
Or Rowe's gay rake dependent virtue jeers,
With the fame caft of features he is feen
To chide the libertine, and court the queen. 970
From the tame fcene, which without paffion flows,
With juft defert his reputation rofe ;
Nor lefs he pleas'd, when, on fome furly plan,
He was, at once, the aftor and the man.
In Brute he (hone unequall'd : all agree, 975
Garrick's not half fo great a Brute as he.
Whew
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 47
When Cato's labour'd fcenes are brought to view,
With equal praife the aftor labour'd too ;
"For fllll you'll find, trace paflions to their root,
Small difference 'twixt the ftoick and the brute. 980
In fancy 'd fcenes, as in life's real plan,
He could not, for a moment, fink the man.
In whate'er caft his character was laid,
Self {till, like oil, upon the furface play'd.
Nature, in fpite of all his fkill, crept in : 985
Horatio, Dorax, Falftaff Hill 'twas Quin.
Next follows Sheridan a doubtful name,
As yet unfettled in the rank of fame :
This, fondly lavim in his praifes grown,
Gives him all merit, that allows him none. 999
Between them both we'll fteer the middle courfe,
Nor, loving praife, rob judgment of her force.
Juft his conceptions, natural and great,
His feelings ftrong, his words enforc'd with weight.
Was fpeech-fam'd Quin himfelf to hear him fpeak, 995
Envy would drive the colour from his cheek ;
But ftep-dame Nature, niggard of her grace,
Deny'd the focial pow'rs of voice and face.
Fix'd in one frame of features, glare of eye,
Paflions, like chaos, in confufion lie: 100*
In vain the wonders of his {kill are try'd
To form diftin&ions Nature hath deny'd.
His voice no touch of harmony admits,
Irregularly deep, and mrill, by fits ;
The two extremes appear like man and wife, 1005
Coupled together for the fake of ftrife.
His aftions always ftrong, but fometimes fuch,
That candour muft declare he ab too much.
Why muft impatience fall three paces back ?
Why paces three return to the attack ? 1010
Why is the right leg, too, forbid to ftir,
Unlcfs in motion femi-circular ?
Why
S BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Why muft the hero with the Nailor vie,
And hurl the clofe-clinch'd fift at nofe or eye ?
In Royal John, with Philip angry grown, 1015
I thought he would have knock'd poor Davies down.
Inhuman tyrant ! was it not a wame,
To fright a king fo harmlefs and fo tame ?
But, fpite of all defers, his glories rife,
And art, by judgment form'd, with Nature vies. 1020
-Behold him found the depth of Hubert's foul,
Whilft in his own contending paffions roll :
View the whole fcene, with critick judgment fcan,
And then deny him merit, if you can.
Where he falls fhort, 'tis Nature's fault alone ; 1025
Where he fucceeds, the merit's all his own.
Laft, Garrick came Behind him throng a train
Of fnariing Criticks, ignorant as vain.
One finds out ' He's of ftature fomewhat low j
' Your hero always fliould be tall, you know ; 1030
* True nat'ral greatnefs all confiils in height.'
Produce your voucher, Critick. ' Serjeant Kite.'
Another can't forgive the paltry arts
Ey which he makes his way to mallow hearts ;
Mere pieces of fmeffe, traps for applaufe. 1035
* Avaunt ! unnat'ral ftart, affecled paufe.'
For me, by Nature form'd to judge with phlegm,
I can't acquit by wholefale, nor condemn.
The befl things carried to excefs are wrong ;
The ftart may be too frequent, paufe too long ; 1040
But, only us'd in proper time and place,
Severeft judgment muft allow them grace.
If bunglers, form'd on imitation's plan,
Juft in the way that monkies mimick man,
Their copy'd fcene with mangled arts diigrace, IO45
And paufe and ftart with the fame vacant face,
We join the critick laugh ; thofe tricks v/e fcorn,
Which fpoil the fceaes they mean them to adorn j
But
BAUTIES OF POETRY. 49
ut when, from Nature's pure and genuine fource,
Thefe ftrokes of acting flow with gen'rous force, 1 050
When in the features all the foul's pourtray'd>
And paflions fuch as Garrick's are difplay'd,
To me they feem from quickeft feelings caught,
Each Hart is Nature, and each paufe is thought.
When reafon yields to paflion's wild alarms, 1055
And the whole ftate of man is up in arms,
What but a critick could condemn the play'r
For paufing here, when cooi f"enfe paufes there?
Whilft, working from the heart, the fire I trace,
And mark it ftrongly flaming to the face ; 1060
Whilft in each found I hear the very man,
I can't catch words, and pity thofc who can.
Let wits, like fpiders> from "the tortur'd brain
Fine-draw the critick-web with curious pain ;
The gods a kindnefs I with thanks muft pay 1065
Have form'd me of a coarfer kind of clay ;
Nor ftung with envy, nor with fpleen difeas'd,
A poor dull creature, ftill with Nature pleas'd :
Hence to thy praifes, Garrick, I agree,
And pleas'd with Nature, muft be pleas'd with thee. 1070
Now might 1 tell how filence reign'd throughout,
And deep attention hufli'd the rabble rout ;
How ev'ry claimant, tortur'd with defire,
Was pale as afties, or as red as fire ;
But, loofe to fame, the Mufe more limply afts, 1075
Rejeds all flourim, a,nd relates mere facls.
The judges, as the fev'ral parties came,
With temper heard, with judgment weigh'd each claim ;
And, in their fentence happily agreed,
In name of both, great Shakefpeare thus decreed. icSo
' If manly fenfe ; if Nature link'd with art;
* If thorough knowledge of the human heart ;
' If pow'rs of afting, vaft and unconfin'd ;
' If feweft faults with greateft beauties join'd ;
G ' If
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
If flrong expreflion, and ftrange pow'rs which lie " 10$$
Within the' magick circle of the eye ;
If feelings, which few hearts like his can know.
And which no face fo well as his can fhow,
Defcrve the preference Garrick ! take the chair j
Nor quit it till thou place ait equal there ! 1090
A NIGHT-^IECE.
BY MISS CARTER.
WHILE Night in folemn lhade inverts the pole,,
And calm, reflection foothea the pmfive foul ;
While reafon undifturb'd aflerts her fway,
And life's deceitful colours fade away ;
.To thee ! All-confcious Prefence I I devote
This peaceful interval of fober thought :
TT ,, r i r
Here all my better faculties confine ;
And be this hour of facred filence thine !
If, by the day's illufive fcenes milled,
My erring foul from Virtue's path has ftray'J j
Snar'd by example, or by paflion warm'd,
Some falfe delight 'my giddy fenfe has charm'd;
My calmer thoughts the wretched choice reprove,
And my beft hopes are center'd in thy love.
Depriv'd of this, can life one joy afford !
It's utmoft boaft, a Vain unmeaning word.
But, ah! how oft my lawlefs paflions rove,
And break thofe awful precepts I approve I
Purfue the fatal impulfe I abhor,
And violate the virtue I adore !
Oft, whf n thy better Spirit's guardian care
Warn'd my fond foul to fliun the tempting fnare,
My ftubborn will his gentle aid reprrfs'd,
And chcck'd the rifmg goodne in my breaft,
WML
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 51
Mad with vain hopes, or urg'd by falfe defires,
Still'd his foft voice, and quench'd his facred fires.
With grief opprefs'd, and proftrate in the dull,
Should'ft thou condemn, I own the fentence juft.
But, oh ! thy fcfter titles let me claim,
And plead my caufe by Mercy's gentle name.
Mercy ! that wipes the penitential tear.
And diflipates the horrors of defpair ;
From rigorous juftice fteals the vengeful hour,
Softens the dreadful attribute of Power,
Difarms the wrath of ao offended God,
And feals my pardon in a Saviour's blood!
All-powerful Grace, exert thy gentle fivay,
And teach my rebel paffions to obey ;
Left lurking folly, with infidious art,
Regain my volatile iaconftant heart !
Shall every high-refolve devotion frames,
Be only lifelefs founds and fpecious names ?
O rather, while thy hopes and fears controul.
In this ftill hour, each motion of my foul,
Secure it's fafety by a fudden doom,
And be the foft retreat of fleep my tomb !
Calm let me (lumber in that dark repofe,
Till the laft morn it's orient beam difclofe :
Then, when the great archangel's potent found
Shall echo thro' creation's ample round,
Wak'd from the fleep of death with joy furvey
The opening fplendors of eternal day.
G 2 THE
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
THE DEATH OF ARACHNE.
AN HERCI-COMI.-TRAGICK POEM.
BY JOHN* HAWKESWORTH, LL.D.
TH E (blinking brooks and ruflet meads complain'd-,
That fummer's tyrant, fervid Sirius, reign'd ;
Full weft the fun from heaven defcending rode,
And fix the fhadow on the dial mow'd.
Philo, tho 1 young, to mufing much inclin'd,
A fhamelefs floven, in his gown had din'd;
From table fneaking with a fheepifh face,
Before the circle was difmifs'd with grace,
And fmoaking now, his deflt with books o'erfpread,
Thick clouds of incenfe roll around his head :
His head, which fave a quarter's growth of hair,
His woollen cap long fince fcratch'd off, was bare j
His beard three days had grown, of golden hue ;
Black was his fhirt, uncomely to the view.
Crofs-legg'd he fat, and his ungarter'd hofe,
Of each lean limb half hide and half expofe :
His cheek he lean'd upon his hand ; below,
His nut-brown flipper hung upon his toe.
Now with abilrafted flight he climbs apace,
High and more high, .through pure unbounded fpace ^
Now mere privation fails the wings of thought,
He drops down headlong through the vaft of nought.
A friendly vapour Mathefis fupplies ;
Bprne on the furging fmoke, he joys to rife:
Matter thro' modes and qualities purfues ;
Now caught, entranc'd it's naked eflence views ;
Now wakes the vifion fading from his fight,
Leaves doubts behind, the mifls of mental night.
Exiiline
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 53
Exifting not, but poflible alone;
He deems all fubftance, and fufpefts his own.
Like wave by wave impell'd, now qneftions roll
Does foul in aught fubfilt, 6rll in foul?
Is fpace, extenilon, nothing- -but a name,
And mere idea Nature's mighty frame ?
All power, all forms, to intellect confin'd ;
Place, agent, fubjedt, inftrument combin'd?
Is fpirit diverfe, >yet from number free,
Conjoin'd by harmony in unity r
Truth's fpotlefs white, : what piercing eye defcries,
When the ray broken takes Opinion's dyes !
In vain now Philo feeks the facred light;
In chaos pluhg'd, where embryo fyftems fight.
In this dark hour, unnotic'd, Chloe came;
His ftudy-door admits the mining dame :
With Nature's charms, fhe join'd the charms of art,
Wife of his choice, and miftrefs of his heart.
What on her head me wore, ereft and high,
Unnam'd above, is call'd on earth a fly ;
In wanton ringlets her fair trefies fell,
Her breafts beneath tranfparent muflin fwell :
Studded with flaming gems a buckle bound
Th' embroider'd zone her flender vvaift around ;
Thence- to her feet a vaft rotund difplay'd
The mingling colours of the rich brocade ;
This aiding fancy, blending mame and pride,
Inflames with beauties it was meant to hide.
With carelefs eafe the nymph firft fnapp'd her fan,
Roll'd round her radiant eyes, and thus began.
* How canft thou, Philo, here delight to fit,
* Immers'd in learning, naftinefs, and wit ?
' Clean from the chert where various odours breathe,
' And dying rofes their laft fweets bequeath,
' A fhirt for thee, by my command, the maid
' Three hours ago before the fire difplay'd ;
TKc
54 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
The barber, waiting to renew thy face,
Holds thy wig powder'd in the pafteboard cafe ;
Thy filken breeches, and thy hofe of thread,
Coat, waiflcoat, all, lie ready on the bed.
* Renounce that odious pipe, this filthy eel!,
Where fiience, duft, and Pagan authors dwell ;
' Come 1 fhall the ladies wait in vain for thee ?
Come I tafte with us the charms of mirth and tea.*
As Philo heard confus'd the filver found, -
His foul emerges from the dark profound ;
On the bright vifton full he turn'd his eyes :
Touch'd, as he ga^'d, with pleafure and furprize.
The firft faint dawnings of a fmile appcar'd;
And now, in aft to fpeak, he ftrok'd his beard;
When, from a-fhelf juft o'er the fair-one's head,
Down dropt ARACHNE by the vifcous thread.
Back ftarts the nymph, with terror and difmay,
* The fpider ! oh !' was all that (he could fay.
At this the fage refum'd the look fevere.
Renounce, with woman's folly, woman's fear 1*
He faid ; and careful to the melf convey'd
The haplefs rival of th,e blue-ey'd maid.
Th' enormous deed aftoniiVd Chloe view'd,
And rage the crimfon on her cheek renew'd.
' Muft then,' faid fh,e, c fuch hideous vermin crawl,
' Indulg'd, protected, o'er the cobweb'd wall ?
' Deftroy her quickly here her life I claim ;
If not for love or decency, for fhame !'
Shame be to guilt!' replies the man of thought;
' To Haves of cuftom, ne'er by reafon taught ;
' Who fpare no life that touches not their own,
4 By fear their cruelty reftrain'd alone.
* No blamelefs infeft lives il's deftin'd hour,
* Caught in the murdering vortex of their power.
* For me, the virtues of the mind I learn
' From fage Arachne, for whofe life you burn j
' From
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 5;
* From her, when bufy all the fummer's day
She weaves the curious woof that fnares her prey,
* I learn fair induftry and art to prize,
* Admiring Nature providently wife ;
* Who, tho' her bounty unexhaufted flows,
* Not daily bread on idlenefs beftows.
' Arachne, 1H11 fuperior to defpair,
* Reftores with art what accidents impair,
< The thoufandth time the broken thread renewi,
' And one great end with fortitude purfues :
* To me her toil is ne'er rencw'd in vain,
* Taught what the wife by perfeverance gain ;
' Warm'd by example to the glorious ftrife,
" And taught to conquer in the fight of life.
' When now with reft amidft her labours crown'd,
' She watchful, patient, eyes the circle round ;
* I learn, whea toil has well deferv'd fuccefs,
* Hope's placid, calm expectance, to poflefs ;
* With care to watch, with patience ftill to wait,
* The golden moment, tho' delay 'd by Fate.'
Impatient Chloe thu again reply'd:
f How foon is eTror thro' each veil defcry'd !
* Still boafting rtfafon's power, how weak are we !
' How blind, alas ! to all we would not fee !
* Elfe how could Philo, in a Spider's caufe,
* Talk thus of mercy with deferv'd applaufe s
c Or call aught virtuous induftry and flcill,
* Exerted only to furprize and kill !
* The blamelefs infect, whom no murder feeds,
c For her, the victim of her cunning, bleeds ;
* Cunning ! which when to wifdom we compare,
' Is but to her, to- men what monkies are.'
Hold !' Philo cries; ' and know, the fame decree"
* Gave her the fly, which gives the lamb to thee ;
' Or why thofe -wings adapted to the fnare,
' Why interceptive hangs the net in air >
f As
i BEAUTIES O F P O E T. R YJ
* As plain in thefe the precept, " Kill and eat,"
As in thy fkill to carve the living treat.'
To this,' fhe cries, ' perfuade me, if you can ;
' Man's lord of all, and all was made for man.'
Varh thought 1 the child of ignorance and prid !
Difdainful fmiling, quickly he reply'd.
' To mart, vain reptile 1 tell me of what ufc
* Are all that Africk's peopled wafles produce ?
' The namelefs monfters of the fwarming feas,
* The pigmy nations wafted on the breeze ?
' The happy myriads, by his eyes unfeen,
That baflc in flowers, and quicken all the green ?
' Why live thefe numbers blefs'd in Nature's Hate ?
Why lives this Spider obj eft of thy hate?
* Why Man ? but life in common to pofiefs,
* Wide to diffufe the ftream of happinefs :
* Blefs'd itream 1 th' o'erflowing of the parent mu?d;
Great without pride, and without weaknefs kind.'
With downcaft eyes, and fighs, and modeft air,
Thus in foft founds reply'd the wily fair:
' This fatal fubtilty thy books impart,
* To baffle truth, when unfuftain'd by art ;
* For this, when Chloe goes at twelve to bed,
" Till three you fit in converfe with the dead ;
' No wonder, then, in vain my Cull's employ 'd
* To prove it beft that vermin be deftroy'd !
'But tho' you proudly triumph o'er my fex,
* Joy to confute, and reafon but to vex;
' Yet, if you love me, to oblige your wife,
* What could you lefs ! you'd take a Spider's life.
* Once, to prevent my wifhes, Philo flew ;
* But time, that alters all, has alter'd you.
1 Yet ftill unchang'd poor Chloe's love remains ;
* Thefe tears my witnefs, which your pride difdains ;
c Thefe tears, at once my witnefs and relief!'
Here paus'd the fair, all-eloquent- in grief.
He,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY! 7
H, who had often, and alone, o'erturn'd
Witlings, and fophifts, when his fury burn'd,
Now yields to love the fortrefs of his foul !
His eyes with vengeance on Arachne roll :
' Curs'd wretch ! thou poifonous quinteflence of ill,
' Thofe precious drops, unpunifh'd, fhalt thou fpill ?*
He faid ; and {looping, from his foot he drew,
Black as his purpofe, what was once a fhoe :
Now, high in air the fatal heel afcends,
Reafon's laft effort now the ftroke fufpends,
In doubt he flood when, breath'd from Chloe's breaft,
A flruggling figh her inward grief exprefs'd.
Fir'd by the found, ' Die ! forcerefs, flie !' he cry'd,
And to his arm his utmoft flfength apply'd :
Crufh'd falls the foe, one complicated wound,
And the fmote fhelf returns a jarring found.
On Ida's top thus Venus erft prevail'd,
When all the fapience of Minerva fail'd :
Thus to like arts a prey, as poets tell,
By Juno lov'd in vain, great Dido fell.
And thus, for ever, beauty fhallcontroul,
The faint's, the fage's, and the hero's foul.
But Jovfe with hate beheld th' atrocious dceJ,
And vengeance follows with tremendous fpced ;
In Philo's mind fhe quench'd the ray that fir'd
With love of fcience, and with verfe infpir'd ;
Expung'd at once the philofophick theme,
All fages think, and all that poets dream ;
Yields him, thus chang'cl, a vaflkl to the fair,
And forth (lie leads him with a viclor's air :
Drefs'd to her .wife, he mixes with the gay,
As much a trifle, and as vain as they ;
To fix their pow'r, and rivet fail the chain,
They lead where pleafure fpreads her foft domain. ;
Where, drown'd in mufick Reafon's hoarfer call,
Love fmiles triumphant in thy groves, Vauxhall.
H A FA*
t BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
A FATHER'S ADVICE TO HIS SON.
BY JOHN GILBERT COOPER, E S Q^.
DEEP in. a grove, by cyprefs fhaded,
Where mid-day fun had feldom flione,
Or noife the folemn fcene invaded,
Save fome afflicted Mufe's moan;
A fwain tow'rds full-ag'd manhood wending,
Sat forrowing at the clofe of day;
At whofe fond fide a boy attending,
Lifp'd half his father's cares away.
The father's eyes no objeft wrefted,
But on the fmiling prattler hung ;
Till, what his throbbing heart fuggefted,
Thefe accents trembled from his tongue.
' My youth's firft hopes, my manhood's treafure!
' My prattling innocent attend ;
* Nor fear rebuke, nor four difpleafure,
* A father's lovelieft name is Friend.
' Some truths, from long experience flowing,
' Worth more than royal grants, receive ;
* For truths are wealth of HeavVs beftowing,
' Which kings have feldom power to give.
' Since, from an ancient race defcended,
' You boaft an unattainted blood ;
4 By your's be their fair fame attended,
* And claim'by birthright to be good.
' In
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 59
c In love for every fellow-creature,
' Superior rife above the crowd ;
What moft ennobles human nature,
' Was ne'er the portion of the proud.
' Be thine the generous heart, that borrows
' From other's joys a friendly glow ;
c And for each haplefs neighbour's forrows,
' Throbs with a fympathetick woe.
' This is the temper moft endearing :
' Tho' wide proud Pomp her banners fpreads,
' An heavenlier power, good-nature bearing,
' Each heart in willing thraldom leads.
' Tafte not from fame's uncertain fountain,
* The peace-deftroying ftreams that flow ;
' Nor from ambition's dangerous mountain,
' Look down upon the world below.
' The princely pine on hills exalted,
' Whofe lofty branches cleave the fky,
* By winds long brav'd, at laft afTaulted,
' Is headlong whirl'd in duft to lie :
' Whilft the mild rofe, more fafely growing,
' Low in it's unafpiring vale,
' Amidft retirement's fhelter blowing,
' Exchanges fweets with every gale.
' Wifli not for beauty's darling features,
* Moulded by Nature's fondling power ;
' For faired forms 'mong human creatures,
' Shine but the pageants of an hour.
Hz- 'I faw
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
I faw the pride of all the meadow,
' At noon, a gay Narciffus, blow
Upon a river's bank, whofe ftiadow
' Bloom'd in the filver waves below ;
' By noon-tide's heat it's youth was wafted,
f The waters as they pafs'd, complain'd*
' At eve it's glories all were blafted,
' And not one former tint remain'd.
' Nor let vain wit's deceitful glory
* Lead you from wifdom's path aftray :
* What genius lives renown'd in ftory,
To happinefs who found the way ?
' In yonder mead, behold that vapour,
Whofe vivid beams illufive play :
Far off, it feems a friendly taper,
1 To guide the traveller on his way ;
' But ftiould fome haplefs wretch purfuing,
' Tread where the treach'rous meteors glow,
' He'd find, too late his rafhnefs rueing,
* That fatal quickfauds lurk below.
In life, fuch bubbles nought admiring,
' Gilt with falfe light, and fill'd with air,
' Do you, from pageant crowds retiring,
' To peace, in virtue's cot, repair :
e ^ There feek the never-wafted treafure,
' Which mutual love and friendfhip give ;
Domeftick comfort, fpotlefs pleafure !
f And blefs'd,'and bleffing, you will live.
If
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
If Heav'n with children crowns your dwelling,
As mine it's bounty does with, you; .
' In fondnefs fatherly excelling,
' Th' example you have felt, pur/ue.'
He paus'd for, tenderly carefilng
The darling of his wounded heart,
Looks had means only of exprefling
Thoughts language never could impart.
Now night her mournful mantle fpreading,
Had rob'd with black th' horizon round,
And dank dews from her treffes medding,
With genial moifture bath'd the ground :
When back to city follies flying,
'Midft cuftom's flaves he liv'd refign'd ;
His face, array'd in fmiles, denying
The true complexion of his mind :
For ferioufly around furveying
Each character in youth and age,
Of fools betray'd, and knaves betraying,
That play'd upon this human flage;
(Peaceful himfelf, and undefigning)
He loath'd the fcenes of guile and ftrife,
And felt each fecret wifh inclining
To leave this fretful farce of life.
Yet, to whate'er above was fated,
Obediently he bow'd his foul ;
For, what All-bounteous Heav'n created,
He thought Heav'n only fhould controul.
ELEGY;
6t BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
ELEGY;
DESCRIBING THE SORROW OF AN INGENUOUS MIND, ON THE
MELANCHOLY EVENT OF A LICENTIOUS AMOUR.
BY W. SHENSTONE, ESQ^
WH Y mourns my friend ? why weeps his downcaft eye ?
That eye where mirth, where fancy us'd to flrine !
Thy chearful meads reprove that fwelling figh ;
Spring ne'er enamell'd fairer meads than thine.
Art thou not lodg'd in Fortune's warm embrace ?
Wert thou not form'd by Nature's partial care?
Blefs'd in thy fong, and blefs'd in every grace
That wins the friend, or that enchants the fair ?
* Damon,' faid he, ' thy partial praife reltrain ;
' Not Damon's friendfhip can my peace reftore ;
* Alas ! his very praife awakes my pain,
' And my poor wounded bofom bleeds the more.
' For, oh 1 that Nature on my birth had frown'd !
' Or Fortune fix'd me to foine lowly cell !
' Then had my bofom 'fcap'd this fatal wound,
Nor had I bid thefe vernal fweets fare we J.
But led by Fortune's hand, her darling child,
' My youth her vain Ikentious blifs admir'd ;
* In Fortune's train the Syren Flattery fmil'd,
' And raflily hallov/'d all her queen infpir'd.
* Of folly fbdious, e'en of vices vain,
Ah, vices I gilded by the rich and gay !
' I chas'd the guilelefs daughters of the plain;
Nor dropp'd the chafe, till JefTy was my prey.
' Poor,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 63
* Poor, artlefs maid ! to (lain thy fpotlefs name,
* Expence, and art, and toil, united ftrove ;
*' To lure a breaft that felt the pureft flame,
Suftain'd by virtue, but betray'd by love.
f Schooled in the fcience of love's mazy wiles,
' I cloath'd each feature with affeded fcorn ;
' I fpoke of jealous doubts, and fickle fmiles,
' And, feigning, left her anxious and forlorn.
' Then, while the fancy'd rage alarm'd her care,
' Warm to deny, and zealous to difprove;
' I bade my words the wonted foftnefs wear,
' And feiz'd the minute of returning love.
' To thee, my Damon, dare I paint the reft?
' Will, yet, thy love a candid ear incline ?
' Aflur'd, that virtue, by misfortune prefs'd,
' Feels not the fharpnefs of a pang like mine.
' Nine envious moons matar'd her growing fhame ;
* Ere while to flaunt it in the face of day :
' When, fcorn'd by virtue, ftigmatiz'd by fame,
* Low at my feet defponding Jefly lay.
" Henry," me faid, " by thy dear form fubdu'd,
" See the fad relicks of a nymph undone !
" I find, I find each rifing fob renew'd ;
" I figh in fhades, and ficken at the fun.
" Amid the dreary gloom of night, I cry,
" When will the morn's once pleafmg fcencs return ?
' Yet what can morn's returning ray fupply,
" But foes that triumph or, but friends that mourn !
Alas!
64- BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
" Alas ! no more the joyous morn appears,
" That led the tranquil hours of fpotlefs fame ;
* For I have fteep'd a father's couch in tears,
" And ting'd a mother's glowing cheek with mamc.
*' The vocal birds that raife their matin -ftraih,
" The fportive lambs ihcreafe my penfive moan ;
' All feem to chafe me from the chearful plain,
" And talk of truth and innocence alone.
" If thro' the garden's flow'ry tribes I ftray,
" Where bloom the jafmines that could once allare
' Hope not to find delight in us," they fay,
" For we are fpotlefs, Jefly ; we are pure."
" Ye flowers ! that well reproach a nymph fo frail,
" Say, could ye with my virgin fame compare ?
" The brighteft bud that fcents the vernal gale,
" Was not fo fragrant, and was not fo fair.
" Now the grave old alarm the gefitler young ;
" And all my fame's abhorr'd contagion flee;
" Trembles each lip, and faukers every tongue,
" That bids the morn propitious fmile on me.
" Thus, for your fake, I fliun each human eye ;
" I bid the fweets of blooming. youth adieu :
" To die I languifh, but I dread to die,
" Left my fad fate fhauld nouriih pangs for you.
" Raife me from earth, the ^pangs of want remove,
" And letmefilent feek fome friendly more ;
" There only, banifh'd frcrn the form I love,
" My weeping virtue fhall relapfe no more.- .
BEAUTIES OF POETRt."
** Be but my friend I I aflt no dearer name ;
Be fuch the meed of fome more artful fair :
f " Nor could it heal my peace, or chafe my (hame*
" That pity gave what love refus'd to mare.
*' Force not my tongue to aflc it's fcanty bread j
" Nor hurl thy Jefly to the vulgar crew :
*' Not fuch the parent's board at which I fed ;
tf Not fuch the precept from his lips I drew I
** Haply, when age has filver'd o'er my hair,
" Malice may karn to feorn fo mean a fpoil ;
" Envy may flight a face no longer fair,
" And pity welcome to my native foil !"
She fpoke nor WM I born of favage race ;
* Nor could thefe hands a niggard boon aflign r
Grateful me clafp'd me in a laft embrace,
* And vow'd to waftc her life in pray'rs for mine-
I faw her foot the lofty bark afcend ;
' I faw her breaft with every paflion heave :
5 I left her torn from every earthly friend ;
' Oh ! my hard bofom, which could bear to leare !
f Brief let me be the fatal ftorm arofe ;
' The billows rag'd ; the pilot's art was vain :
O'er the tall maft the circling furges clofe ;
My Jefly floats upon the wat'ry plain J
c And - fee my youth's impetuous fires decay I.
* Seek not to flop reflection's bitter tear ;
But warn the frolick, and inftruft the gay,
' From Jefly, floating on her wat'ry bier !
I AN
6gx BEAUTIRS .OF .P.DT.R.Y.
AN EPISTLE TO THE REV. MR.
OCCASIONID BY
HIS LATE PUBLICATION IN FAVOUR OF POLYGAMY,
'
WTSJ
THELYPHTHORA ; OR, A TREATISfi OX -FEMALE RUIN.
BY THE REV. MR. VVNNI,
A Bard, O MA BAN, tho' to thee unknown, '
Pleas'd real worth in any breaft-to own ; 3 -
A Bard who oft, attendant on thylore, *
Has heard thee truths of Sacred-Writ exploije ; .
Now to thine ear prefers his humble ftrain,
Nor deems the gen'caus labour fliall be vain. s
Born in an ae when difiipation's fway
Proves that our virtue and our -fame decay, < '
Prompt to fugpprt Religion's drooping caufe,
Bold you ftarid forth, and point to Heav'n's own laws.
And well, indeed, in a degen'rate age, *
A theme like yours might pious minds engage.
Love ! the firil foother of all human woe, '
Love ! the chief blifs that mortals tafte below,
By Luft adult'rous driv'n, alas ! retires,
And Hymen's torch, inverted thus, expires ! *
Man ftill delights from fair to fair to rove,
Woman prefers Variety to Love ; " . >.
The nuptial ties they break with eager hands,,
As Samfon did the Philiftean bands.
To check this torrent, in your Work we rind,
A bold defign connubial blifs to bind.
To Science bred, with Scripture Learning fraught.
You lay down rules from diftant ages brought,
From Holy Writ as well as Reafon trac'd,
With all the force of flow'ry periods grac'd,
Yoa
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
You tell us, ' Man, tho' ftyl'd the lord of all,
' Is by the weaker fex ftill held in thrall,
' Becaufe to One alone his vows he gives,
' And ftill (if juft) to One devote J lives :
' While Heav'a itfelf, ena&ing no fuch laws,
' Has left him free to vindicate his caufe ;
' To mew the fex he is their proper head,
* And take, at pleafure, numbers to his bed.'
Hard were the- talk, thro' various books to rove,
And Negatives by Implication prove !
Scripture, indeed, does a wide neld-difplay,
A field where thoufands tread, where thoufands ftray :
Then let not human pride refufe to 'own
Errors to which all human-kind are prone.
The Mufe with candour mall your fteps attend,
Blame where me muft ; and where me can, commend. T .
The Patriarchs, and Judea's Kings, 'tis true,
Had many wives, yet kept their Law in view ;
But at Creation's earlieft birth, we find,
One Eve was only to'one Adam join'd.
No forms could then prevail, for none were known,
Where fimple Nature was the bond alone.
But Time brought forms, the truth of man to prove,
And by Religion join thofe join'd by Love.
Our Chriftiau Laws their excellence maintain,
Beyond all thofe wHttk mark'd out Nature's reign ;
Or thofe of oH from thund'ring Sinai giv'n,
E'en to the people favour'd moft by Heav'n.
Heathens obferv'd the Chriftians modeft lives,
Who ftill difclaim'd Plurality of Wives * ;
* Celfus, and other Heathens, obferveil the chaftity of the lives of Chrif-
t'ans. It was alfo obferved, that though celibacy was not prefcribed to the
clergy, yet a biihop, pried or deacon, having-buried his firft wife, was not al-
lowed to marry again ; which fome think to be the true meaning of Paul's
advice to Timothy j that a bijbop ftx/uld bt tbi bujband of eat wife: con-
trary to Mr. Madan's conlhucYion of the text.
I 2 Whethef
68 BEAUTIES OF
Whether by Precept or Example taught,
Tis plain, at leaft, they afted as they thought.
While fome, more ftridt, a Single life defir'd,
And oft to defarts, woods, and caves, retir'd.
Such were the primitive and fimpk times,
Unknown to modern wit, and modern crimes :
The Wife was fubjeft ; while, with gentle fway 4
The Hufband taught the weaker to obey.
Nor yet did Man, with an unhallow'd flame,
To more than One put in his modeft claim:
But Mahomet's new fe<5l a law allow'd,
Well fram'd to captivate the giddy crowd ;
He taught that wild variety to prove,
Where fierce delight takes place of real love *.
Such are the proofs which on our fenfes break s
Js Scripture filent ?- then let Reafon fpeak.
Go, ranfeck other climes, fearch Afia round,
Where in it's, height Polygamy is found ;
There may you fee the men tyrannick fway,
And beauteous flaves reluftantly obey ;
There may you find excefs the fav'rite theme,
And ev'ry pafiion rejgning in extreme f.
But not to fcenes like thefe is Love confin'dj,
Nor fickle paffions, changing with the wind :
Love nourifh.es a pure and facred fire,
Fann'd by eftetm, tho' kindled by defep !
From youth to age, true love will ftill remain.
Attend in ficknefs, foothe the he'd of pain ;
Thro' all life's vary'd paths it's kindnefs (hew,
But moft where toils and dreaded dangers grow !
* We find by the Koran, that this Grand Impoftor does not allow women
to have immortal fouls ; he therefore picks out wives for his faints from the
Houries, or fabled Daughters of P^radife.
f- In confequence of this, it is well known, that whilft numbers of women
are {hut up in the Harams, perpetual jealou/ies prevail among them ; and
their haughty lord, though he may gratify at pleafure hi* inordinate pa.TionSj
can never experience the fupreme felicity of having a fair companion, a conftant
lover, and a tender friend.
For
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 69
for living ftreams, as the parch'd heifer burns ;
As to the polar ftar the needle turns ;
As Echo, pleas'd, repeats the dying voice ;
So the touch'd heart is faithful to it's choice !
A flame thus true, e'en infidels might own,
Shews conftant Love mull fix on one alone :
Still, Dove-like, to the tender partner join'd,
Jn death united, as in life combin'd.
Then let not Fancy's labyrinth enfnare,
And lead us from the perfect and the fair.
Love is the -law of Nature beft exprefs'd,
'Tis Heav'n's own emblem in the human breaft ;
When either fex confefs his kind controul,
And thus become ' one life, one heart, one foul *.'
Nature, and Nature's God, o'er all the earth,
Have form'd us nearly equal at our birth f ;
But were there many wives for man defign'd,
Nature would multiply the female kind ;
Elfe why mould we adopt, in this alone,
* Th' enormous faith, of many made for one ?'
That faith let flaves in Eaftern climates hold,
Who barter beauty, ill-exchang'd for gold :
While Britain's fons, of manners more refin'd.
After t the gen'ral rights of human-kind ;
Whate'er their vices, Tyranny defpife,
Nor once invade the Liberty they prize ?
Be this their boaft ; nor, MAD AN, thou difdain
The folemn truths that deck this humble ftrain :
The gen'rous mind, ftill to convi&ion free,
Can it's own faults, if truly painted, fee.
* Milton's Paradifc Loft.
J- It is generally faid, that there are about fourteen malei born to thirteen
females ; which difference, is fuppofed to be intended by Providence to fupply
the places of fuch of the men as perifli by war or other accidents to which wo-
men are not fo liable. Some have indeed urged, that this fmall difproportion
flill leaves the males more numerous : they forget, however, the number* of
\vomen who dk in childbirth, and of difcafcs peculiar to the fcx.
Zeal
7 o BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Zeal was thy motive, we that zeal commend,
TJio' not direfted to it's proper end.
Then ftill proceed where Virtue points the way
And bright Religion beams her facred ray :
But in the path obfcure forbear to tread j
And tho' inform'd, yet fear to be mifled ;
But fear ftill more, left others headlong run
To trace thofe paths where virtue is undone.
* All flefti is frail !' We fhould the weak regard,
Who take their Teacher's word for God's award.
' Order is Heav'n's firft law * ;' be that obey'd :
Jn Chriftian laws this order is difplay'd ;
And by it's rules, if rightly underftood,
The Private centres in the Publick good."
Such rules let us adopt, and keep the road
Thro' which our wife forefathers fought their God.
To virtuous aftions let our lives be giv'n ;
And, pure of heart, leave we the reft to Heav'n.
-
DAMON TO DELIA;
OK SEEING THE FIRST PLEDGE OF THEIR MUTUAL LOVE
BU1LPING A CARD HOUSE.
'
A SIMILE.
BY M R. THOMAS BELLAMY,
VIEW, my love, our tender charmer,
Rearing up the paper pile ! . :
Now a thoufand fears alarm her ;
Flutt'ring, trembling, all the while.
* Pope's Eflay on Man.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY, 5
Soon, to pretty Polly's thinking,
All her wifhes will be crown'd :
Fate denies ! the fabrick finking,
Spreads a little ruin round 1
Thus fond man, himftflf deluding,
Building fancy'd joys on high;
Lo ! fome fudden care intruding,
All his airy profpefts die!
Lighter than the wat'ry bubble
Are the -tranfports earth can give ;
Mix'd with forrow, pain and trouble,
Ever riftng while \ve live.
THE PARISH CLERK.
'
BY MR. W. VERNON.
I.
TT E T courtly bards, in polifh'd phrafe, endite
* ' Soft madrigals, to celebrate the fair ;
Or paint the fplendor of a birth-day night,
Where peers^and dames in mining robes appear :
The talk be mine neglefted worth to praife,
Alas ! to often found, in thefe degen'rate days.
il.
O gentle Shenftone ! could the felf-taught Mufr,
Who joys, like thine, in rural ftiades to itray,
Could me, like thine, while fhe her theme purfurs,
With native beauties deck the pleaiing lay ;
Then mould the humble Clerk of Barton-Dean,
An equal meed of praife with thy School-jmitrcfs gain.
HI. En-
ra- BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
III.
Ent'ring the village, in a deep-worn way,
Hard by an aged oak, his dwelling {lands ;
The lowly roof is thatch, the walls are clay j
All rudely rais'd by his forefathers hands :
Obferve the homely hut as you pafs by.
And pity the good man that lives fo wretchedly.
IV.
Vulcanian artifl here, with oily brow
And naked arm, he at his anvil plies,
What time Aurora in the eaft docs glow,
And eke when Vefper gilds the weftern flues :
The bellows roar, the hammers loud refound,
And from the tortur'd mafs the fparkles fly around.
V.
Hither the truant fchool-boy frequent wends,
And flily peeping o'er the hatch is feen
To note the bick'ring workman, while he bends
The Heed's ftrong fhoe, or forms the fickle keen.
Unthinking, little elf, what ills betide,
Of breech begalled fore, and cruel talk befidc !
VI.
A deep hiftorian, well I wot, is he,
And many tomes of ancient lore has read,
Of England's George, the fiow'r of chivalry,'
Of Merlin's Mirror, and the Brazen Head ;
With hundred legends more, which to recite
Would tire the wtfeft uurfe, and fpend the longeft night.
VII.
To Nature's Book he ftudioufly applies;
And oft, confulted by the anxious fwain;
With wiftful gaze reviews the vaulted flcies,
And fhews the figns of fure impending rain,.
Or thunder gather'd in the fervid air,
Or if the harveft-montli will be ferene and fair,
VIII. Th
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 73
VIII. -
The various phafes of the moon he knows,
And whence her orb derives it's filver flieen,
From what ftrange caufe the madding Heygre flows,
By which the peafants oft endanger'd been,
As in their freighted barks they carelefs glide,
And view th' inverted trees in Severn's chryftal tide.
IX.
Returning late at eve from wake or fair,
Among a fort of poor unletter'd fwains,
He teaches them to name each brighter ftar,
And of the northern lights the caufe explains ;
Recounts what comets have appear'd of old,
Portending dearth, and war, and mis'ries manifold.
X.
Around his bending fhoulders graceful flow
His curling filver locks, the growth of years ;
Supported by a ftaffhe \valketh flow,
And fimple neatnefs in his mien appears ;
And every neighbour that perchance he meets,
Or young or old be they, with- courtefy he greets.
XI.
A goodly fight, I wot, it were, to view
The decent Parim Clerk on Sabbath-day,
Seated, beneath the Curate, in his pew,
Or kneeling down with lifted hands to pray ;
And ever and anon, with clofe of pray'r,
He anfwereth, Amen ! with fober folemn air.
XII.
Such times an ancient fuit of bhck he wear;,
Which from the Curate's wardrobe did defceni :
Love to his Clerk the pious Curate bears,
Pities his wants, and wifhcth to befriend ;
But what, alas ! can (lender fal'ry do,
Encumber'd by a wife, and children not a few ?
K XIII. Thro'
7 4 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
XIIT.
Thro' ev'ry feafon of the changing year,
His ftricl regard for Chriftian rites is feen,
The holy church he decks with garlands fair,
Or birchen boughs, or yew for ever green ;
On ev'ry pew a formal fprig is plac'd,
And with a fpacious branch the pulpit's top is grac'cl.
XIV.
At Chriftmas tide, when ev'ry yeoman's hall
With ancient hofpitality is blefs'd,
Kind invitations he accepts from all,
To (hare the plenteous, mirth-abounding feaft ;
The Chriftmas feaft imperfel would appear,
Except their good old gueft, the Parim Clerk, was there.
XV.
Then, when the mellow beer goes gaily round,
And curls of fmoke from lighted pipes afpire,
When chearful carols thro' the room refound,
And crackling logs augment the blazing fire,
His honeft heart with focial joy o'erflows,
And many- a merry tale he on his friends bellows.
XVI.
When fmit with mutual IOA^C, the youth and maid
To weave the lacred nuptial knot agree,
Pleas'd he attends to lend his ufefut aid,
And fee the rites perform'd'with decency:
He gives the bride, and joins their trembling hands, . i
While with the fervice-book the Curate gravely '{lands.
XVII.
Then, while the merry bells the fteeple make,
Ringing in honour of the happ- pair,
To notes of gladnefs 'while the minftrels wake,
And lads and lafTes the rich bride-cake mare ;
O may the youthful bard a vi.rnon gaii
To whom the rural fags if "virtues- did explain.
XVIII. When
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 75
XVIII.
When from the church returns the blithefome train,
A fpicy cake two gentle maidens bring j
Which, holding o'er the bride-, they break in twain,
And all conjoin'd this nuptial ditty fmg :
' Joy to the wedded pair ! health, length of days !
' And may they, blefs'd by Heav'a, a goodly houihold raife/
XIX.
At eve, the lovely condefcending bride,
Will take the ring which on her finger dunes,
And thro' the facred circlet nine times flide
The fragrant gift, repeating myftick lines ;
(The myftick lines we may not here make known,
Them mail the Mufe reveal to virgins chafte alone.)
XX.
The flocking thrown, as ancient rules require,
Leave the glad lovers to compleat their joy j
And to thy pillow filently retire,
Where clofe beneath thy head the charm muft lie :
Rais'd by the pow'r of Love, in vifion gay,
Thy future fpoufe fhall come in holiday array.
XXL
And, foft approaching, with the mildeft air,
Thy yielding lips fhall modeftly embrace;
O, fweet illufion ! wilt thou difappear ?
Alas, it flies ! the morning fprings apace !
The blufhing lover fees the light with pain,
And longs to recompofe, and woo his dream again.
XXII.
O, time relentleft ! foe to ev'ry joy !
How all declines beneath thy iron reign !
Once could our Clerk to fweeteft melody
Attune the harp, and charm the lift'ning plain :
Or with his mellow voice the pfalm could raife,
And fill the echoing choir with notes of facred f.n.iie.
K 2 XXIII. But
7 6 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
XXIII.
But now, alas ! his every power decays,
His voice grows hoarfe, long toil has cramp'd his hands,
No more he fills the echoing choir with praife,
No more to melody the harp commands :
Sadly he mourns the dulnefs of his ear,
And when a mailer plays, he prefles clofe to hear.
XXIV.
Late, o'er the plain, by chance or fortune led,
The penfive fwain who does his annals write,
Him in his humble cottage viilted,
And learn'd his ftory, with fmcere delight ;
For chiefly of himfelf his converfe ran,
As mem'ry well fupply'd the narrative old man.
XXV.
His youthful feats with guiltlefs pride he told,
In rural games what honours erft he won ;
How on the green he threw the wreftlers bold ;
How light he leap'd, and O ! how fwift he run.
Then, with a figh, he fondly turn'd his praife
To rivals now no more, and friends of former days.
XXVI.
At length, concluding with reflexions deep
' Alas ! of life few comforts now remain ;
c Of what I was, I but the veftige keep,
' Impair'd by grief* by penury, and pain :
* Yet let me not arraign juft Heav'n's decree ;
4 The lot of human-kind, as man, belongs to me.
XXVII.
' Beneath yon aged yew-tree's folemn fliade,
' V/hofe twifted roots above the greenfward creep ;
* There, freed from toils, my pious father laid,
' Enjoys a filent, unmolefted fleep :
' And there my only fon with HIM I gave
' All comfort of my age, untimely to the grave.
XXVIII. ' "In
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 77
XXVIII.
* In that fweet earth, when nature's debt is paid,
* And leaving life, I leave it's load of woes,
My neighbours kind, I truft, will fee me laid,
' In humble hope of mercy, to repofe :
< Evil and few, the patriarch mourn'd his days,
' Nor mall a man prefume to vindicate his ways.'
AN ELEGY ON A PILE OF RUINS.
BY MR. J. CUNNINGHAM.
N the full profpect yonder hill commands,
O'er forefts, fields, and vernal-coated plains ;
The veftige of an ancient abbey ftands,
Clofe by a ruin'd cattle's rude remains.
Half buried, there, lie many a broken buft,
And obeliflc, and urn, o'crthrown by Time ;
And many a cherub, there, defcends in duft
From the rent roof, and portico fublime.
The rivulets, oft frighted at the found
Of fragments, tumbling from the tow'rs on high ;
Plunge to their fource in fecret caves profound,
Leaving their banks and pebbly bottoms dry.
Where rev'rend fhrines in Gothick grandeur flood,
The nettle, or the noxious nightfliade, fpreads ;
And afhlings, wafted from the neighb'ring wood,
Thro' the worn turrets wave their trembling heads.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
There Contemplation, to the crowd unknown,
Her attitude compbs'd, and afped fweet 1
Sits mufmg on a monumental ftone,
And poin-ts to the Memento at her feet.
Soon as fage ev'ning check'd day's funny pride,
I left the mantling made, in moral mood ;
And, feated by the maid's fequefter'd fide,
Thus figh'd, the mould'ring ruins as I view'd.
Inexorably calm, with, filent pace,
Here Time has pafs'd what ruin marks his Way !
This pile, now crumbling o'er it's hallow'd bafe,
Turn'd not his ftep, nor could his courfe delay.
Religion rais'd her fupplicating eyes
In vain ; and Melody, her fong fublime :
In vain Philofophy, with maxims wife,
Would touch the cold unfeeling heart of Time.
Yet the hoar tyrant, tho' not mov'd to fpare,
Relented when he ftruck it's finifh'd pride ;
And partly the rude ravage to repair,
The tott'ring tow : rs with twifted ivy tied.
How folemn is the cell o'ergrown with mofs,
That terminates the view yon cloifter'd way !
In the crufh'd wall, a time-corroded crofs,
Religion like, ftands mould'ring in decay !
Where the mild fun, thro' faint-encypher'd glafs,
Illum'd with mellow light that brown-brow' d aifie ;
Many rapt hours might Meditation pafs,
Slow moving 'twixt the pillars of the .pile ! .
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 79
And Piety, with myftick-meaning beads,
Bowing to faints on ev'ry fide inurn'd,
Trod oft the folitary path, that leads
Where now the facred altar lies o'erturn'd !
Thro' the grey grove, betwixt thofe with'ring trees,
'Mongft a rude group of monuments, appears
A marble-imag'd matron on her knees,
Half wafted, like a Niobe in tears.
Low levell'd in the duft her darling's laid !
Death pitied not the pride of youthful bloom ;
Nor could maternal piety diffuade,
Or foften the fell tyrant of the tomb.
The relicks of a mitred faint may reft,
Where, mould'ring in the niche, his flatue ftands ;
Now namelefs, as the crowd that kifs'd his veft,
And crav'd the benetliclion of his hands.
Near the brown arch, redoubling yonder gloom,
The bones of an illuftrious chieftain lie ;
As trac'd upon the time-unletter'd tomb,
The trophies of a broken fame imply.
Ah ! what avails, that o'er the vaffal plain,
His rights and rich demefues extended wide !
That honour, and her knights, ..compos'd his train,
And chivalry ftood marfhall'U by. his fide !
Tho' to the clouds his caftle feem'd to climb,
And frown'd defiance on the deip'ratu foe ;
Tho' deem'd invincible, the conqueror, Time, / : ify
Levell'd the fabrick, as the foundf,. low
Vt Where
o BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Where the light lyre gave many a foft'ning found,
Ravens and rooks, the birds of difcord, dwell ;
And where Society fat fweetly crown'd,
Eternal Solitude has nx'd her cell.
The lizard, and the lazy lurking bat,
Inhabit now, perhaps, the painted room,
Where the fage matron and her maidens fat,
Sweet-finging at the filver- working loom.
The traveller's bewilder'd on a wafte j
And the rude winds inceflant feem to roar,
Where, in his groves with arching arbours grac'd,
Young lovers often figh'd in days of yore.
His aqueducts, that led the limpid tide
To pure canals, a chryftal cool fupply !
In the deep dufl their barren beauties hide :
Time's thirft, unquenchable, has drain'd them dry !
Tho' his rich hours in revelry were fpent,
With Comus, and the laughter-loving crew ;
And the fweet brow of Beauty, ftill unbent,
Brighten'd his fleecy moments as they flew :
Fleet are the fleecy moments ! fly they mud ;
Not to be ftay'd by mafque, or midnight roar I
Nor Ihall a pulfe amongil that mould'ring dull,
Beat wanton at the fmilcs of beauty more 1
C?>n the deep ftatefman, fkill'd in great defign,
Protraft, but for a day, precarious breath ?
Or the tun'd follower of the facred Nine,
Soothe, with his mtjpdy, infatiate Death ?
No
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. Si
No tho* the palace bar her golden gate,
Or monarchs plant ten thoufand guards around,
Unerring, and unfeen, the fhaft of Fate
Strikes the devoted viUm to the ground !
What then avails ambition's wide-ftretch'd wing,
The fchoolman's page, or pride of beauty's bloom!
The crape-clad hermit, and the rich-rob'd king,
Levell'd, lie mix'd promifcuous in the tomb.
The Macedonian monarch, wife and good,
Bade, when the morning's rofy reign began,
Courtiers mould call, as round his couch they flood,
' Philip ! remember thou'rt no more than man.
' Tho' glory fpread thy name from pole to pole ;
* Tho' thou art merciful, and brave, and juft ;
' Philip, reflect, thou'rt porting to the goal
' Where mortals mix in uiidiftinguifh'd duft !'
So Saladin, for arts and arms renown'd,
(Egypt and Syria's wide domains fubdu'd)
Returning with imperial triumphs crown'd,
Sigh'd, when the perifhable pomp he view'd;
And as he rode, high in his regal car,
In all the purple pride of conqueft drefs'd ;
Confpicuous, o'er the trophies gain'd in war,
Plac'd, pendent on a fpear, his burial veft :
While thus the herald cry'd ' This fon of power,
' This Saladin, to whom the nations bow'd ;
' May, in the fpace of one revolving hour,
' Boaft of no other fpoil, but yonder fhroud 1*
L Search
82 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Search where ambition rag'd, with rigour fteel'd ;
Where flaughter, like the rapid lightning, ran ;
And fay, while .memory weeps the blood-ftain'd field,
Where lies the chief, and where the common man ?
Vain are the pyramids, and motto'd ftones,
A'nd monumental trophies rais'd on high !
For time confounds them with the crumbling bones_,
That mix'd in hafty graves unnotic'd lie.
Refts not, beneath the turf, the peafant's head,
Soft as the lord's beneath the labour'd tomb ?
Or fleeps one colder, in his clofe clay bed,
Than t'other, in the wide vault's dreary womb ?
Hither let Luxury lead her loofe-rob'd train j
Here flutter Pride, on purple-painted wings :
And, from the moral profpeft, learn how vain
The wilh, that fighs for fublunary things !
THE THREE WARNINGS.
BY MRS. THRALE:
TH E tree of deepeft root is found
Leaft willing ilill to quit the ground ;
'Twas therefore faid, by ancient fages,
That love of life increas'd with years
So much, that in our latter, ftages,
When pains grow fliarp, and ficknefs rages,
The greateft love of life appears.
This great afFe&ioa to believe,
Which all confefs, but few perceive,
If old afTertions can't prevail,
Be pleas 'd to hear a modern tale.
When
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
When fports went round, and all were gay,
On neighbour Dobfon's wedding-day,
Death call'd afide the jocund groom
With him into another room ;
And looking grave, ' You 'mull,' fays he,
' Quit your fweet bride", and come with me.'*
' With you ! and quit my Sufan's fide !
' With you !' the hapfefs hulband cry'J : .
* Young as I am ! 'Tis monftrous hard !
' Betides, in truth, I'm not prepar'd :
' My thoughts on other matters go,
' This is my wedding-night, you know.'
What more he urg'd I have net heard,
His reafons could not well be ftronger j
So Death the poor delinquent fpar'd,
And left to live a little longer.
Yet calling up a ferious look,
His hour-glafs trembled while he fpoke,
* Neighbour,' he faid, ' farewel ; no more
' Shall Death difturb your mirthful hour :
' And farther, to avoid all blame
' Of cruelty upon my name,
To give you time for preparation,
* And fit you for your future ftation,
' Three feveral Warnings you mail have,
* Before you're fummon'd to the grave :
* Willing for once I'll quit my prey,
' And grant a kind reprieve ;
' In hopes you'll have no more to fay,
' But when I call again this way,
' Well pleas'd the world will feave.*
To thefe conditions both confentcd,
And parted perfe&ly contented.
L 2 What
84 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
What next the hero of our tale befel,
How long he liv'd, how wife, how well,
How roundly he purfu'd his courfe,
And fmoak'd his pipe, and ftrok'd his horfe,
The willing mufe mall tell :
He chaffer'd then, he bought, he fold,
Nor once perceiv'd his growing old,
Nor thought of Death as near ;
His friends not falfe, his wife no mrew,
Many his gains, his children few,
He pafs'd lib hours in peace :
But while he view'd his wealth increafr,
While thus along Life's dufty road
The beaten track content he trod,
Old Time, whofe hafte no mortal fpares,
UncalPd, unheeded, unawares,
Brought on his eightieth year.
And now, one night, in raufmg mood,
As all alone he fate,
Th> unwelcome meflenger of Fate
Once more before him flood.
Half kill'd with anger and furprize,
' So foon return'd !' old Dobfon cries.
' So foon, d'ye call it !' Death replies :
Surely, my friend, you're but in jeft !
' Since I was here before,
'Tis fix and thirty years, at leaft,
' And you ire now fourfcore.'
So much the worfe,' the clown rejoin'd j
' To fpare the aged would be kind :
However, fee your fearch be legal ;
* And your authority is't regal ?
* Elfe you are come on a fool's errand,
With but a Secretary's warrant.
' BeiJdes,
BEAUTIES "OF POETRY.
Befides, yon promis'd me Three Warnings,
Which I hare look'd for nights and mornings !
Bat for that lofs of time and cafe,
* I can recover damages.'
I know/ cries Death, .* that, at the beft,
I feldom am a welcome gueft ;
Bat donl be captious, friend, at leafl:
I little thought you'd ftffl be able
* To ftump about your farm and ftable ;
* Your years hare run to a great length;
I wifc you joy,, tho', of your flrength !'
Hold,' fays the farmer ; < not fb faft,
* I hare been lame thefe four years paJL'
And no great wonder,' Death replies ;
* However, yon ftifl keep your eyes ;
* And fure, to fee one's lores and friends,
' For legs and arms would make amends.'
Perhaps,' fays Dobfon, fo it might,
But latterly Pre loft my fight.'
This is a (hocking ftory, faith ;
Yet there's fbme comfort fH,' fays Death :
' Each ftrires your fadnefs to amnfe ;
' I warrant you hear all the news.'
There's none,' cries he ; 'and if there were,
I'm grown fo deaf, I could not hear.'
Nay, then !' the fpedre ftern rejoin'd,
' Thefe are nnjnfUfiable yearnings ;
If you are Lame, and Deaf, and Blind,
* You're had your Three fnfficient Warnings/
' So come along, no more we'll part ;'
He faid, and touch 'd him with his dart ;
And now, old Dobfon turning pale,
Yields to hi* fate fo ends my talc.
A LET-
8$ .BEAUTIES OF POETRY;
A LETTER FROM CAMBRIDGE
T o
A YOUNG GENTLEMAN" AT ETON SCHOOL.
BY DR LITTLETON.
THOUGH plagu'd with algebraick lectures,
And aftronomical conjectures,
Wean'd from the fweets of poetry
To fcraps of dry philofophy,
You fee, dear Sir, I've found a tune
T* exprefs my thoughts to you in rhime :
For why, my friend, mould diftant parts,
Or times, disjoin united hearts;
Since, though by intervening fpace
Depriv'd of fpeaking face to face,
By faithful emifTary, letter,
We may converfe as well, or better ?
And, not to ftretch a narrow fancy,
To mew what pretty things I can fay,
(As fome will ftrain a fimile,
Firft work it fine, and then apply ;
Tag Butler's rhimes to Prior's thoughts,
And chufe to mimick all their faults ;
By head and moulders bring in a flick,
To mew their knack at hudibraftick:)
I'll tell you, as a friend and crony,
How here I fpend my time and money ;
For time and money go together,
As fure as "weathercock and weather ;
And thrifty guardians all allow
This grave reflection to be true,
That
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. S 7
That whilft we pay fo dear for learning
Thofe weighty truths we've no concern in,
The fpark who fquanders time away
In vain purfuits, and fruitlefs play,
Not only proves an arrant blockhead,
But, what's much worfe, is out of pocket.
Whether my conduft bad or good is,
Judge from the nature of my ftudies.
No more majeftick Virgil's heights,
Nor tow'ring Milton's loftier flights,
Nor courtly Flaccus's rebukes,
Who banters vice with friendly jokes ;
Nor Congreve's life, nor Cowley's fire,
Nor all the beauties that confpire
To place the greeneft bays upon.
Th' immortal brows of Addifon ; v
Prior's inimitable eafe,
Nor Pope's harmonious numbers pleafe ;
Homer, indeed, (for criticks mew it)
Was both philofopher, and poet ;
But tedious philofophick chapters
Quite ftifle my poetick raptures j
And I to Phoebus bade adieu
When firft I took my leave of you.
Now algebra, geometry,
Arithmetick, aftronomy,
Opticks, chronology, and ftaticks,
All tirefome parts of mathematicks ;
With twenty harder names than thefe,
Difturb my brain, and break my peace.
All feeming inconfiftencies
Are nicely folv'd by a's, and b's ;
Our eye-fight is difprov'd by prifms,
Our arguments by fyllogifms.
If I mould confidently write
This ink is black, this paper white ;
Or,
re BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
Or, to exprefs myfelf yet fuller,
Should fay, that black or white's a colour ;
They'd contradift it, and perplex one
With motion, rays, and their reflexion ;
And folve th' apparent falfhood by
The curious texture of the eye.
Should I the poker want, -and take it,
When't looks as hot as fire can make it,
And burn my finger, and my coat,
They'd flatly tell me, 'tis not hot r
* The fire,' fay they, ' has in't, 'tis true,
' The pow'r of caufing heat in you ;
But no more heat's in fire that heats you,
* Than there is pain in flick that beats you.'
Thus, too, philofbphers expound
The names of odour, tafle, -and found :
The falts and juices in all meat,
Affeft the tongues of them that eat,
And by fome fecret poignant power
Give them the tafle of fweet, and four.
Carnations, violets, and roCes,
Caufe a fenfation in our nofes ;.
But then there's none of us can tell
The things themfelves have tafte or fmell,
So, when melodious Mafon fmgs,
Or Gethring tunes the trembling firings,
Or when the trumpet's brifk alarms
Call forth the chearful youth to arms,
Convey'd thro' undulating air,
The mufick's only in the ear.
We're told how planets roll on high,
How large their orbits, and how nigh ;
1 hope in little time to know
Whether the moon's a cheefe, or no ;
Whether the man in't, as fome tell ye,
With beef and carrots filjs his belly ;
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 8 9
Why, like a lunatick confin'd,
He lives at diftance from mankind ;
When he, at one good hearty make,
Might whirl his prifon off his back ;
Or, like a maggot in a nut,
Full bravely eat his pafTage out.
Who knows what vaft difcoveries
Fronvfuch enquiries might arife ?
But feuds, and tumults in the nation,
Difturb fuch curious fpeculation.
Cambridge, from furious broils of ftate,
Forefees her near-approaching fate ;
Her fureft patrons are remov'd,
And her triumphant foes approv'd.
No more ! this due to friendmip take,
Not idly writ for writing's fake ;
Nor longer queftion my refpeft,
Nor call this fhort delay, negleft ;
At leaft excufe it, when you fee
This pledge of my fincerity ;
For one who rhimes to make you eafy,
And his invention {trains to pleafe you,
To (hew his friendmip cracks his brains,
Sure is a madman if he feigns.
TO MRS. GILLMAN.
BY DR. LANGHORNE.
WITH fenfe enough for half your fex befide ;
With juft no more than neceflary pride ;
With knowledge caught from Nature's living page,
Politely learn'd, and elegantly fage ;
Alas ! how piteous, that in fuch a mind
So many foibles free reception find !
M Can
90 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Can fuch a mind, ye gods ! admit DISDAIN ;
Be PARTIAL, ENVIOUS, COVETOUS, and VAIN !
Unwelcome truth ! to love, to blindnefs clear !
Yet, GILLMAN, bear it while you blufh to hear.
That in your gentle breaft DISDAIN can dwell,
Let knavery, meannefs, pride, that feel it, tell !
With PARTIAL eye a friend's defedls you fee,
And look with kindnefs on my faults and me.
And does no ENVY that fair mind o'erfhade ;
Does no fhort figh for greater wealth invade ;
When filent merit wants the foftering meed,
And the warm wifh fuggefts the virtuous deed ?
Fairly the charge of VANITY you prove,
Vain of each virtue of the friends you love.
What charms, what arts of magick have confpir'd,
Of power to make fb many faults admir'd ?
THE HISTORY OF PORSENNA,
KING OF RUSSIA.
IN TWO BOOKS.
BY THE REV. DR. LISLE.
-Arva, beata
Petamus arva, divites et infulas. HOR. EPOD. xvn
BOOK I.
IN Ruflla's frozen clime, fome ages fmce,
There dwelt, hiilorians fay, a worthy prince,
Who to his people's good confin'd his care,
And fix'd the bafis of his empire there ;
Enlarg'd their tr.ide, the lib'ral arts improv'd,
Made nations happy, and himfelf belov'd ;
To
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 91
To all the neighb'ring ftatcs a terror grown,
The dear delight and glory of his own.
Not like thofe kings, who vainly feek renown
From countries ruin'd, and from battles won ;
Thofe mighty Nimrods, who mean laws defpife,
Call murder but a princely exercife ;
And, if one bloodlefs fun mould fteal away,
Cry out, with Titus, they have loft a day j
Who, to be more than men, themfelves debafe, "\
Beneath the brute, their Maker's form deface, >
Raifmg their titles by their God's difgrace. 3
Like fame to bold Eroftratus we give,
Who fcorn'd by lefs than facrilege to live ;
On holy ruins rais'd a lafting name,
And in the temple's fire diffus'd his fhame.
Far diff'rent praifes, and a brighter fame,
The virtues of the young Porfenna claim j
For by that name the Ruffian king was known,
And fure a nobler ne'er adorn'd the throne.
In war he knew the deathful fword to wield,
And fought the thickeft dangers of the field ;
A bold commander ! but, the ftorm o'erblown,
He feem'd as he were made for peace alone ;
Then was the golden age again reflor'd,
Nor lefs his juftice honour'd than his fword.
All ne^dlefs pomp and outward grandeur fpar'd,
The deeds that grac'd him were his only guard ;
No private views beneath a borrow 'd name ;
His and the publick intereft were the fame.
In wealth and pleafure let the fubjeft live,
But virtue is the king's prerogative-;
Porfenna there without a rival ftood,
And would maintain his right of doing good.
Nor did his perfon lefs attraftion wear,
Such majefty and fweetnefs mingled there ;
M 2 Heav'n
* BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Heav'n with uncommon art the clay refin'd,
A proper manfion for fo fair a mind ;
Each look, each action, bore peculiar grace,
And love itfelf was painted on his face.
In peaceful time lie fuffer'd not his mind
To ruft in floth, though much to peace inclin'd ;
Nor wanton in the lap of pleafure lay.
And, loft to glory, loiter'd life away ;
But active riling ere the prime of day,
Through woods and lonely defarts lov'd to ftray ;
With hounds and horns to wake the furious bear,
Or rouze the tawny lion from his laire ;
To rid the foreft of the favage brood,
And whet his courage for his country's good !
One day, as he purfu'd the dang'rous fport,
Attended by the nobles of his court,
It chanc'd a beaft of more than common fpeed
Sprang from the brake, and through the defart fled.
The ardent prince, impetuous as the wind,
Rum'd on, and left his lagging train behind.
Fir'd with the chace, and full of youthful blood,
O'er plains, and vales, and woodland wilds he rode,
Urging his courfer's fpeed ; nor thought the day
How wafted, nor how intricate the way :
Nor, till the night in dufky clouds came on,
Reftrain'd his pace, or found himfelf alone.
Miffing his train, he ftrove to meafure back
The road he came, but could not find the track ;
Still turning to the place he left before,
And only lab'ring to be loft the more.
The bugle horn, which o'er his fhoulders hung,
So loud he winded, that the foreft rung :
In vain ; no voice but echo from the ground,
And vocal woods made mock'ry of the found.
And now the gath'ring clouds began to fpreael
O'er the dun face of night a deeper made ;
And
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 93
And the hoarfe thunder, growling from afar,
With herald voice proclaim'd th' approaching war ;
Silence awhile enfu'd then by degrees
A hollow wind came mutt'ring through the trees.
Sudden the full-fraught fky difcharg'd it's flore,
Of rain and rattling hail, a mingled fhow'r ;
The adlive lightning ran along the ground ; "\
The fiery bolts by fits were hurl'd around, >
And the wide foreits trembled at the found.
Amazement feiz'd the prince : where could he fly ;
No guide to lead, no friendly cottage nigh !
Penfive and unrefolv'd awhile he flood,
Beneath the fcanty covert of the wood ;
But, drove from thence, foon fally'd forth again,
As chance direfted, on the dreary plain ;
Conftrain'd his melancholy way to take %
Through many a loathfome bog, and thorny brake, v
Caught in the thicket, flound'ring in the lake. J
Wet with the ftorm, and wearied with the way,
By hunger pinch'd, himfelf to beafts a prey ;
Nor wine to chear his heart, nor fire to burn,
Nor place to reft, nor profpecl to return :
Drooping and fpiritlefs, at life's defpair,
He bade it pafs, not worth his farther care ;
When fuddenly he fpy'd a diftant light, _
That faintly twinkled through the gloom of night, C
And his heart leap'd for joy, and blefs'd the welcome fight, j
Oft-times he doubted, it appear'd fo far,
And hung fo high, 'twas nothing but a ftar,
Or kindled vapour wand'ring thro' the fky,
But ftill prefs'd on his fteed, ftill kept it in his eye ;
Till, much fatigue, and many dangers paft,
At a huge mountain he arriv'd at laft.
There, lighting from his horfe, on hands and knees,
Grop'd out the darkfome road, by How degrees,
Crawling
94 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Crawling or clamb'ring o'er the rugged way ;
The thunder rolls above, the flames around him play ;
Joyful at length he gain'd the fteepy height,
And found the rift whence fprang the friendly light.
And here he ftopp'd to reft his wearied feet,
And weigh the perils he had ftill to meet ;
Unftieath'd his trufty fword, and dealt his eyes
With caution round him, to prevent furprize ;
Then fummon'd all the forces of his mind,
And ent'ring boldly caft his fears behind :
Refolv'd to pufh his way, whate'er withftood,
Or perilh bravely as a monarch fhou'd.
While he the wonders of the place furvey'd,
And thro' the various cells at random ftray'd,
In a dark corner of the cave he view'd
Somewhat that in the fhape of woman Hood ;
But more deform'd than dreams can reprefent
The midnight hag, or poet's fancy paint
The Lapland witch, when me her broom beftrides>
And fcatters ftorms and tempefts as ihe rides.
She look'd, as Nature made her to difgrace
Her kind, and caft a blot on all the race.
Her fhrivel'd fkin with yellow fpots befmear'd
Like mouldy records feem'd ; her eyes were blear'd ;
Her feeble limbs with age and palfy fhook ;
Bent was her body, haggard was her look :
From the dark nook out crept the filthy crone ;
And, propp'd upon her crutch, came tott'ring on.
The prince in civil guife approach'd the dame,
Told her his piteous cafe, and whence he came ;
And, till Aurora mould the fhades expel,
Implor'd a lodging in her friendly cell.
' Mortal ! whoe'er thou art,' the fiend began ;
And as (he fpake, a deadly horror ran
Thro' all his frame ; his cheeks the blood forfook,
Chatter'd his teeth, his knees together ftruck.
* Whoe'er
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 95
* Whoe'er thou art, that with prefumption rude,
' Dar'ft on our facred privacy intrude ;
And without licence in our court appear,
' Know, thou'rt the firft that ever enter'd here !
' But fince thou plead'ft excufe, thou'rt hither brought
' More by thy fortune than thy own default ;
* Thy crime, tho' great, an eafy pardon finds,
' For mercy ever dwells in royal minds :
' And, would you learn from whofe indulgent hand
' You live, and in whofe awful prefence ftand,
' Know farther, thro* yon wide-extended plains
* Great Eolus the king of tempefts reigns,
* And in this lofty palace makes abode,
' Well fuited to his ftate, and worthy of the god.
' The various elements his empire own,
' And pay their humble homage at his throne ;
' And hither all the ftorms and clouds refort,
' Proud to encreafe the fplendor of his court.
' His queen am I, from whom the beauteous race
* Of winds arofe, fweet fruit of our embrace 1*
She fcarce had ended, when, with wild uproar,
And horrid din, her fons impetuous pour
Around the cave ; came ruihing in amain
Lybs, Eurus, Boreas, all the boift'rous train ;
And clofe behind them on a whirlwind rode,
In clouded majefty, the bluft'ring god :
Their locks a thoufand ways were blown about ;
Their cheeks like full-blown bladders ftrutted out;
Their boafting talk was of the feats they'd done,
Of trees uprooted, and of towns o'erthrown;
And when they kindly turn'd them, to accoft
The prince, they almoft pierc'd him with their froft.
The gaping hag in fix'd attention flood,
And at the clofe of every tale, cried ' Good 1*
Blefling with outftretch'd arms each darling fon.
In due proportion to the mifchief done.
And
9 6 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
And where,' faid flic, does little Zephyr ftray ?
' Know ye, my fons, your brother's rout to-day?
' In what bold deeds does he his hours employ ?
' Grant Heav'n no evil has befal'n my boy !
' Ne'er was he known to linger thus before.'
Scarce had flie fpoke, when at the cavern door
Came lightly tripping, in a form more fair
Than the young poet's fond ideas are,
When fir'd with love he tries his utmoft art
To paint the beauteous tyrant of his heart.
A fatin veil his flender fliape confm'd,
Embroider'd o'er with flow'rs of every kind,
Flora's own work, when firft the goddefs ftrove
To win the little wanderer to her love.
Of burnifli'd iilver were his fandals made,
Silver his bufkins, and with gems o'erlaid ;
A faffron-colour'd robe behind him flow'd,
And added grace and grandeur as he trod.
His wings than lilies whiter to behold,
Sprinkled with azure fpots, and ftreak'd with gold ;
So thin their form, and of fo light a kind,
That they for ever danc'd and flutter'd in the wind.
Around his temples, with becoming air,
In wanton ringlets, curl'd his auburn hair,
And o'er his moulders negligently fpread ;
A wreath of fragrant rofes crovvn'd his head.
Such his attire ; but, O ! no pen can trace,
No words can mew the beauties of his face ;
So kind! fo winning ! fo divinely fair !
Eternal youth and pleafure fiourifli there !
There all the little loves and graces meet,
And ev'ry thing that's foft, and ev'ry thing that's fweet !
' Thou vagrant,' cry'd the dame in angry tone,
' Where could'ft thou loiter thus fo long alone !
' Little thoM car'ft what anxious thoughts moleft,
' What pangs are lab'-ring in a mother's breaft !
Well
BEAUTIES OF POETRY* 97
r Well do you fliew your duty by your hafte,
' For thou of all my fons art always laft ;
* A child lefs fondled would have fled more faft.
' Sure 'tis a curie on mothers, doom'd to mourn,
* Where belt they love, the leaft and worft return !'
' My dear mamma,' the gentle youth reply'd,
And made a low obeifance, ' ceafe to chide,
' Nor wound me with your words ; for well you know
' Your Zephyr bears a part in all your woe ;
' How great muft be his forrow, then, to learn
' That he himfelf's the caufe of your concern !
* Nor had I loiter'd thus, had I been free ;
* But the fair Princefs of Felicity
' Entreated me to make fome fhort delay ;
'And aik'd by her, who could refufe to flay ?
' Surrounded by the damfels of her court,
' She fought the lhady grove, her lov'd refort :
' Frefh rofe the grafs, the flow'rs were mix'd between,
' Like rich embroid'ry on a ground of green ;
' And in the midft, protected by the fhade,
' A cryftal ftream in wild meanders play'd ;
' While on it's banks, the trembling leaves among,
' A thoufand little birds in concert fung.
' Clofe by a mount, with fragrant fhrubs o'ergrown,
On a cool moffy couch fhe laid her down ;
* Her air, her poflure, all confpir'd to pleafe ;
' Her. head, upon her fnowy arm at eafe
* Rcclin'd, a. ftudy'd careleflhefs exprefs'd;
' Loofe lay her robe, and naked heav'd her bread.
' Eager I flew to that delightful place,
' And pour'd a fhow'r of kifies on her face ;
' Now hove.r'd o'er her neck, her breaft, her arms,
' Like bees o'er flow'rs, and tafted all her charms ;
f- And then her lips, and then her cheeks I try'd,
. And fann'd and wanton'd round on every fide.
N " O Zephyr I"
98 BEAUTIES OF POETRV.
" O Zephyr !" cry'd the fair, " thou charming boy,
" Thy prefence only can create me joy ;
" To me thou art beyond expreffion dear,
" Nor can I quit the place while thou art here !"
' Excufe my weaknefs, Madam, when I fwear "i
* Such gentle words, join'd with fo foft an air,
* Pronounc'd fo fweetly from a mouth fb fair,
' Quite ravifh'd all my fenfe ; nor did I know
' How long I ftay'd, or when or where to go !
' Meanwhile the damfels debonnair and gay,
' ' Prattled around, and laugh'd the time away :
* Thefe, in foft notes, addrefs'd the ravifh'd ear,
' And warbled out fo fweet, 'twas heav'n to hear }
' And thofe in rings, beneath the greenwood made,
' Danc'd to the melody their fellows made.
* Some ftudious of themfelves, employ'd their care
* In weaving flow'ry wreathes to deck their hair ;
f While others to fome fav'rite plant convey'd
' Refrefiiing fhpw'rs, and chear'd it's drooping head.
* A joy fo general fpread through all the place,
. ' Such fatisfa&ion dwelt on every face,
' The nymphs fo kind, fb lovely look'd the queen,
f That never eye beheld a fweeter fcene !'
Porfenna, like a ftatue fix'd appear'd,
And, rapt in filent wonder, gaz'd and heard :
Much he admir'd the fpeech, the fpeaker morei
And dwelt on ev'ry word, and griev'd to find it o'er.
* O gentle youth !' he cry'd, proceed to tell,
' In what fair country does this princefs dwell ;
' What region unexplor'd, what hidden coaft,
* Can fo much goodnefs, fo much beauty boaft !'
To whom the winged god with gracious look,
Numberlefs fweets diffufing while he fpoke,
Thus anfwer'd kind : ' Thefe happy gardens lie -\
Far hence remov'd, beneath a milder Iky ; v
f Their name the kingdom of Felicity,
Sweet
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
99
Sweet fcenes of endleTs blifs, enchanted ground,
A foil for ever fought, but feldom found ;
Though in the fearch all human kind in vain
Weary their wits, and wafte their lives in pain.
In different parties, diff'rent paths they tread,
As reafon guides them, or as follies lead ;
Thefe wrangling for the place they ne'er {hall fee,
Debating thofe, if fuch a place there be;
But not the wifeft, nor the beft, can fay
Where lies the point, or mark the certain way.
Some few, by Fortune favour'd for her-fport,
Have fail'd in fight of this delightful port ;
In thought already feiz'd the blefs'd abodes,
And in their fond delirium rank'd with gods.
Fruitlefs attempt ! all avenues are kept
By dreadful foes, fentry that never flept.
Here, fell Detraction darts her pois'nous breath
Fraught with a thoufand flings, and fcatters death ;
Sharp-fighted Envy there maintains her poft,
And fliakes her flaming brand, and ftalks around the coaft.
Thefe on the helplefs bark their fury pour,
Plunge in the waves, or dam againft the more ;
Teach wretched mortals they were doom'd to mourn,
And ne'er muft reft but in the filent urn. !
' But fay, young monarch, for what name you bear,
Your mien, your drefs, your perfon, all declare ;
And though I feldom fan. the frozen North,
Yet I have heard of brave Porfenna's worth.
My brother Boreas through the world has flown,
Swelling his breath to fpread forth ypur renown ;
Say, would you chufe to vifit this retreat,
And view the world where all thefe wonders meet ?
Wim you fome friend o'er that tempeftuous fea
To bear you fafe ! Behold that friend in me.
My aftive wings mail all their force employ,
And nimbly waft you to the realms of joy ;
N 2 < A?
DO BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
' As once, to gratify the god of love,
' I bore fair Pfyche to the Cyprian grove ;
* Or as Jove's bird, defcending from on high,
' Snatch'd the young Trojan trembling to the flcy.
*" There perfeft blifs thou may'ft for ever fhare,
' 'Scap'd from the bufy world, and all it's care ;
' There, in the lovely princefs, thou fhalt find
' A miflrefs ever blooming, ever kind !'
All extafy, on air Porfenna trod,
And to his-bofom ftrain'd the little god ;
With grateful fentiments his heart o'erflow'd,
And in the warmeft words millions of thanks beftow'd.
When Eolus, in furly humour, broke
Their flridl embrace, and thus abruptly fpoke.
' Enough of compliment ; I hate the fport
' Of mqanlefs words : this is no human court,
' Where plain and honeft are difcarded quite,
' For the more modifh title of polite ;
'- Where, in fbft fpeeches, hypocrites impart
' The venom'd ills that lurk beneath the heart ;
' In friendfnip's holy guife their guilt improve,
' And kindly kill with fpecious mew of love.
' For us my fubjefts are not us'd to wait,
' And waite their hours, to hear a mortal prate ;
' They rmift abroad before the rifing fun,
* And hie 'em to the feas ! there's mifchief to be done.
' Excufe my plainnefs, Sir ; but bufmefs ftands ;
' And we have ftorms and mipwrecks on our hands !'
He ended frowning ; and the noify rout,
Each to his feveral cell went puffing out :
But Zephyr, far more courteous than the reft,
To his own bow'r convey'd the royal guelt ;
There on a bed of rofes, neatly laid,
Beneath the fragrance of a myrtle made,
His limbs to needful reft the prince apply'd,
His fweet companion flumb'ring by his fide.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
BOOK II.
*^TO fooner in her filver chariot rote
* The ruddy morn, than, fated with repofe,
The prince addrefs'd his hoft ; the god awoke,
And leaping from his couch, thus kindly fpoke :
* This early call, my lord, that chides my flay,
* Requires my thanks, and I with joy obey.
* Like you, I long to reach the blifsful coaft,
' Hate the flow night, and mourn the moments loft.
' The bright Rofmda, lovelieft of the fair
f That croud the princefs' court, demands my care ;
f E'en now, with fears and jealoufies o'erborne,
' Upbraids, and calls me cruel and forfworn.
' What fweet rewards on all my toils attend,
< Serving at once my miftrefs and my friend !
' Juft to my love, and to my duty too,
' Well paid in her, well pleas'd in pleafmg you !'
This faid, he led him to the cavern gate,
And clafp'd him in his arms, and poiz'd his weight ;
Then balancing his body here and there,
Stretch'd forth his agile wings, and launch'd in air,
Swift as the fiery meteor from on high
Shoots to it's goal, and gleams athwart the flcy.
Here with quick fan his la,b'ring pinions play ;
There glide at eafe along the liquid way ;
Now lightly Ikim the plain with even flight ;
Now proudly foar above the mountain's height.
Spiteful Detraction, whofe envenom'd hate
Sportb with the fufPrings of the good and great,
Spares not our prince ; but, with opprobrious fneer.
Arraigns him of the heinous fin of fear ;
That he, fo try'd in arms, whofe very name
Infus'd a fecret panick where it came ;
fc'ea
02 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
E'en he, as high above the clouds he flew,
And fpy'd the mountains lefs'ning to the view,
Nought round him but the wide-expanded air,
Helplefs, abandon'd to a ftripling's care,
Struck with the rapid whirl, and dreadful height*
Confefs'd fome faim alarm, fbme little fright.
The friendly god, who inftar.tly divin'd
The terrors that poflefs'd his fellow's mind,
To calm his troubled thoughts, and cheat the way,
Defcrib'd the nations that beneath them lay;
The name, the climate, and the foil's encreafe,
Their arms in war, their government in peace ;
Shew'd their domeitick arts, their foreign trade,
What int'reft they purfu'd, what leagues they made.
The fweet difcourfe fo charm'd Porfenna's ear,
That, loft in joy, he had no time for fear.
From Scandinavia's cold inclement waftr,
O'er wide Germapia's various realms they pafs'd,
And now on Albion's fields futpend their toil,
And hover for a while, and blefs the foil.
O'er the gay fcene the prince delighted hung,
And gaz'd in rapture, and forgot his tongue ;
Till burfling forth at length, ' Behold,' cry'd he*
' The promis'd ifle, the land I long'd to fee !
* Thofe plains, thofe vales, and fruitful hills, declare
' My queen, my charmer, muft inhabit there ','
Thus rav'd the monarch ; and the gentle guide,
Pleas'd with his error, thus in fmiles reply'd.
* I muft applaud, my lord, the lucky thought ; ~
* E'en I, who know th' original, am caught, C
* And doubt my fenfes, when I view the draught. j
1 The flow-afcending hill, the lofty wood
' That mantles o'er it's brow, the filver flood
' Wand'ring in mazes through the flow'ry mead,
' The herd that in the plenteous paflures feed,
' And
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 103
And ev'ry objeft, ev'ry fcene excites
Frefh wonder in my foul, and fills with new delights :
* Dwells chearful Plenty there, and learned Eafe,
' And Art with Nature feems at ftrife to pleafe.
' There Liberty, delightful goddefs, reigns,
' Gladdens each heart, and gilds the fertile plains j
' There firmly feated may ihe ever fmile,
' And fliow'r her bleffings o'er her fav'rite ifle !
* But fee ! the rifmg fun reproves our Hay.'
He faid, and to the ocean wing'd his way,
Stretching his courfe to climates then unknown,
Nations that fwelter in the burning zone.
There in Peruvian vales a moment Itay'd,
And fmooth'd his wings beneath the citron (hade ;
Then fwift his oary pinions ply'd again,
Crofs'd the new world, and fought the Southern main ;
Where, many a wet and weary league o'erpafs'd,
The wim'd-for paradife appear 'd at laft.
With force abated now they gently fweep
O'er the fmooth furface of the mining deep ;
The Dryads hail'd them from the diftant more,
The Nereids play'd around, the Tritons fwam before j
While foft Favonius their arrival greets,
And breathes his welcome in a thoufand fweets.
Nor pale difeafe, nor health-confiuning care,
Nor wrath, nor foul revenge, can enter there ;
No vapour's foggy gloom imbrowns the fky ;
No tempelts rage, no angry lightnings fly ;
But dews and foft-refreming airs are found,
And pure etherial azure mines around.
Whate'er the fweet Sabaean foil can boaft,
Or Mecca's plain, or India's fpicy coaft ;
What Hybla's hills, or rich Ebalia's fields,
Or flow'ry vale of fam'd Hymettus yields ;
Or what of old th' Hefperian orchard grac'd ;
All that was e'er delicious to the tafte,-
Sweet
oi BEAUTIES OF P O E T R Vi [
Sweet to the fmell, or lovely to the view,
Collected there, with added beauty grew.
High-tow'ring to the heav'ns the trees are feen,
Their bulk immenfe, their leaf for ever green ;
So clofely interwove, the tell-tale fun
Can ne'er defcry the deeds beneath them done,
But where by fits the fportive gales divide
Their tender tops, and fan the leaves afide.
Like a fmooth carpet, at their feet lies fpread
The matted grafs, by bubbling fountains fed ;
And on each bough the feather'd choir employ
Their melting notes, and nought is heard but joy.
The painted flow'rs exhale a rich perfume,
The fruits are mingled with eternal bloom ;
And Spring and Autumn hand in hand appear,
Lead on the merry months, and join to cloath the year.
Here, o'er .the mountain's maggy fummit pour'd,
From rock to rock the tumbling torrent roar'd,
While beauteous Iris, in the vale below,
Paints on the rifmg fumes her radiant bow.
Now through the meads the mazy current ftray'd,
Now hid it's wand'rings in the myrtle lhade ;
Or in a thoufand veins divides it's ftore,
Viilts each plant, refremes ev'ry ftow'r ;
O'er gems and golden iknds in murmurs flows,
And fweetly foothes the fad,, and lulls to foft repelfe.
If hunger call, no fooner can the mind
Exprefs her will to needful food inclii'd,
But in fome cool recefs, or op'mnj; glade,
The feats are plac'd, -the tables neatly laid ;
And inftantly, convey'd by rnagick hand,
In comely rows the coftly ditties ftand ;
Meats of all kinds that Nature can impart,
Prepar'd in all the niceft forms of art.
A troop of fprightly nymphs array'd in green,
With flow'ry chaplets.crown'd, come fcudding in ;
With
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 105
With fragrant bloflbms thefe adorn the feaft,
Thofe with officious zeal attend the gueii ;
Beneath his feet the filken carpet fpread,
Or fprinkle liquid odours o'er his head.
Others in ruby cups with rofes bound,
Delightful ! deal the fparkling neftar round ;
Or weave the dance, or tune the vocal lay ;
The lyres refound, the merry minftrels play ;
Gay health, and youthful joys o'erfpread the place
And fwell each heart, and triumph in each face.
So, when embolden'd by the vernal air,
The bufy bees to blooming fields repair,
For various ufe employ their chymick pow'r,
One culls the fnowy pounce, one fucks the flow'r ;
Again to different works returning home,
Some fteeve the honey, fome ered the comb :
All for the gen'ral good in concert ftrive,
And ev'ry foul's in motion, ev'ry limb's alive.
And now defcending from his flight, the god
On the green turf releas'd his precious load ;
There, after mutual falutations paft,
And endlefs friendmip vow'd, they part in hafle j
Zephyr impatient to behold his love>
The prince in raptures wand'ring through the grove j
Now fkipping on, and finging as he went,
Now flopping fhort to give his tranfports vent ;
With fudden gufts of happinefs opprefs'd,
Or ftands entranc'd, or raves like one pofTefs'd :
His mind afloat, his wand'ring fenfes quite
O'ercome with charms, and frantick with deliglit ;
From fcene to fcene by random fteps convey'd,
Admires the diftant views, explores the fecret made ;
Dwells on each fpot, with eager eye devours
The woods, the lawns, the buildings, and the bow'rs ;
New fweets, new joys at ev'ry glance a.rife,
And ev'ry turn creates a frelh furprize;
O Clofc
io6 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Clofe by the borders of a rifmg wood,
In a green vale a cryftal grotto flood ;
And o'er it's fide, beneath a beechen (hade,
In broken falls a filver fountain play'd.
Hither, attracted by the murm'ring ftream,
And cool recefs, the pleas'd Porfenna came ;
And, on the tender grafs reclining, chofe
To wave his joys awhile, and take a fhort repofe.
The fcene invites him, and the wanton breeae
That whifpers thro' the vale, the dancing trees,
The warbling birds, and rills that gently creep,
All join their mufick to prolong his fleep.
The princefs for her morning walk prepar'd,
The female troops attend, a beauteous guard.
Array'd in all her charms appear'd the fair j
Tall was her ftature, unconfin'd her air ;
Proportion deck'd her limbs, and in her face
Lay love inflirin'd, lay fweet attractive grace,
Temp'ring the awful beams her eyes convey'd,
And like a lambent flame around her play'd.
No foreign aids, by mortal ladies worn,
From Ihells and rocks her artlefs charms adorn :
For grant that beauty were by gems encreas'd,
'Tis render'd more fufpefted at the leaft ;
And foul defeats, that would efcape the fight,
Start from the piece, and take a ilronger light.
Her chefnut hair, in carelefs rings, around
Her temples wav'd, with pinks and jaf'mine crown'd ;
And, gather'd in a lilken cord behind,
Curl'd to the waift, and floated in the wind ;
O'er thefe a veil of yellow gawze (he wore,
With amaranths and gold embroider'd o'er.
Her fnowy neck, half naked to the view,
Gracefully fell ; a robe of pu. pie hue
Hung loofely o'er her (lender fliape, and try'd
To lhade thofe beauties that it could not hide.
The
ftitcll.
R,bHh'd as du- A>1 il.WfU.bP llarrton ,V (T.]ai.' 1, 1 7 1
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 107
The damfels of her train with mirth and fong
Frolick behind, and laugh and fport along.
The birds proclaim their queen from every tree ;
The beads run frifking thro' the groves to fee ;
The Loves, the Pleafures, and the Graces, meet
In antick rounds, and dance before her feet.
By whate'er fancy led, it chanc'd that day
They thro' the fecret valley took their way;
And, to the cryftal grot advancing, fpy'd
The prince extended by the fountain's fide.
He look'd as, by fome fkilful hand exprefs'd,
Apollo's youthful form retir'd to reft ;
When, with the chace fatigu'd, he quits the wood,
For Pindus' vale, and Aganippe's flood ;
There fleeps fecure, his carelefs limbs difplay'd
At eafe, encircled by the laurel fliade ;
Beneath his head his fheaf of arrows lie j
His bow unbent hangs negligently by.
The flumb'ring prince might boaft an equal grace,
So turn'd his limbs, fo beautiful his face.
Waking, he flarted from the ground in hafte,
And faw the beauteous choir around him plac'd;
Then, fummoning his fenfes, ran to meet
The queen, and laid him humbly at her feet.
' Deign, lovely princefs, to behold,' faid he, *
One who has travers'd all the world, to fee C
' Thofe charms, and worfhip thy divinity : J
' Accept thy flave, and with a gracious fmile
Excufe his rafhnefs, and reward his toil.'
Stood motionlefs the fair with mute furprize,
And read him over with admiring eyes;
And, while me fledfaft gaz'd, a pleafmg fmart
Ran thrilling thro' her veins, and reach'd her heart.
Each limb me fcann'd, confider'd every grace,
And fagely judg'd him of the phcenix race.
O 2 An
io8 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
An animal like this me ne'er had known,
And thence concluded there could be but one :
The creature, too, had all the phcenix' air ;
None but the phcenix could appear fo fair.
The more fhe look'ci, the more me thought it true}
And call'd him by that name, to mew me knew.
' O handfome phcenix ! for that fuch you are,
' We know ; your beauty does your breed declare j
* And I with forrow own, thro' all my coaft,
' No other bird can fuch perfection boaft ;
' For Nature form'd you fingle and alone :
f Alas ! what pity 'tis there is but one !
f Were there a queen fo fortunate to mew
' An aviary of charming birds like you,
* What envy would her happinefs create
' In all who faw the glories of her ftate !'
The prince laugh'd inwardly, furpriz'd to find
So flrange a fpeech, fo innocent a mind.
The compliment, indeed, did fome offence
To reafon, and a little wrong'd her fenfe :
He could not let it pafs ; but told his name,
And what he was, and whence, and why he came j
And hinted other things of high concern
For him to mention, and for her to learn ;
And fhe'd a piercing wit, of wond'rous reach,
To comprehend whatever he could teach.
Thus, hand in hand, they to the palace walk,
Picas 'd and inftrufted with each other's talk.
Here, mould I tell the furniture's expence,
And all the ftrufture's vaft magnificence,
Defcribe the woj's of mining fapphire made,
With emerald and pearl the floors inlaid,
And how the vaulted canopies unfold
A mimick heav'n, and flame with gems and gold ;
Or how Felicity regales her gueft,
The wit, the mirth, the mufick, and the feaft j
And
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 109
And on each part beftow the praifes due ;
'Twou'd tire the writer, and the reader too.
My amorous tale a fofter path purfues ;
Love, and the happy pair, demand my mufe !
O could her art in equal terms exprefs
The lives they lead, the pleafures they poflefs !
Fortune had ne'er fo plenteoufly before
Beftow'd her gifts, nor can me lavim more.
'Tis heav'n itfelf, ''tis extafy of blifs,
Uninterrupted joy, untir'd excefs ;
Mirth following mirth, the moments dance away ;
Love claims the night, and friendfliip rules the day.
Their tender care no cold indiff'rence knows ;
No jealoufies difturb their fweet repofe ;
No ficknefs, no decay ; but youthful grace
And conftant beauty mines in either face.
Benumbing age may mortal charms invade,
Flow'rs of a day, that do but bloom and fade :
Far difPrent here, on them it only blows
The lily's white, and fpreads the blu filing rofe ;
No conqueft o'er thofe radiant eyes can boaft ;
They, like the ftars, mine brighter in it's froft ;
Nor fear it's rigour, nor it's rule obey ;
All feafons are the fame, and every month is May.
Alas ! how vain is happinefs below !
Man, foon or late, mult have his mare of woe ;
Slight are his juys, and fleeting as the wind ;
His griefs wound home, and leave a fting behind.
His lot, dilHnguifh'd from the brute, appears
Lefs certain by his laughter than his tears ;
For ignorance too oft our pleafure breeds,
But forrow from the reas'ning foul proceeds.
If man on earth in endlefs blifs could be,
The boon, young prince, had been beftow'd on thee :
Bright (hone thy ftars, thy fortune flourifh'd fair,
And feem'd fecure beyond the reach of care ;
And
io BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
And fo might ftill have been, but anxious thought
Has dafh'd thy cup, and thou muft tafte the draught.
It fo befel, as on a certain day
This happy couple toy'd their time away,
He aflc'd how many charming hours were flown,
Since on her flave her heav'n of beauty (hone.
Should I confult my heart,' cry'd he, ' the rate
* Were fmall ; a week would be the utmoft date :
'But when my mind reflects on adlions paft,
' And counts it's joys, time muft have fled more faft.
' Perhaps I might have faid, three months are gone.'
* Three months !' reply'd the fair, ' three months alone !
' Know, that three hundred years have roll'd away,
* Since at my feet the lovely phoenix lay.'
' Three hundred years !' re-echo'd back the prince,
' A whole three hundred years compleated fuice
' I landed here ! O whither then are flown
' My deareft friends, my fubjefts, and my throne ?
' How ftrange, alas ! how alter'd fhall I find
* Each earthjy thing, each fcene I left behind !
' Who knows me now ? on whom fhall I depend
' To gain my rights ? where fhall I find a friend ?
' My crown, perhaps, may grace a foreign line,
' A race of kings, that know not me nor mine ;
4 Who reigns, may wifh my death ; his fubjefb treat
* My claim with fcorn, ,and call their prince a cheat !
* Oh, had my life been ended as begun !
' My deflin'd ftage, my race of glory run,
I mould have died well pleas'd ; my honour'd name
Had liv'd, had flourifh'd in the lift of fame !
Reflecting now, my mind with horror fees
The fad furvey, a fcene of fhameful eafe ;
' The odious blot, the fcandal of my race ;
* Scarce known, and only mention'd with difgrace 1*
The fair beheld him with impatient eye,
And, red with angsr, made this warm reply.
c Ungrate-
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. m
* Ungrateful man ! is this the kind return
* My love deferves ? and can you thus with fcorn
' Rejeft what once you priz'd ? what once you fwore
* Surpafs'd all charms, and made e'en glory poor ?
What gifts have I beftow'd, what favours {hewn !
' Made you partaker of my bed and throne ;
' Three centuries preferv'd in youthful prime,
' Safe from the rage of Death, and injuries of Time !
' Weak arguments ! for glory reigns above
' The feeble ties of gratitude and love.
' I urge them not, nor would requeft your flay ;
' The phantom glory calls, and I obey ;
' All other virtues are regardlefs quite,
Sunk and abforb'd in that fuperior light.
* Go then, barbarian ! to thy realms return,
* And mew thyfelf unworthy my concern !
'Go, tell the world, your tender heart could give
' Death to the princefs, by whofe care you live.'
At this a deadly pale her cheeks o'erfpread,
Cold trembling feiz'd her limbs, her fpirits fled;
She funk into his arms : the prince was mov'd,
Felt all her griefs, for ftill he greatly lov'd.
He figh'd, he wifh'd he could forget his throne,
Confine his thoughts, and live for her alone ;
But glory (hot him deep, the venom'd dart
Was fix'd within, and rankled at his heart;
He could not hide it's wounds, but pin'd away
Like a fick flow'r, and languiiVd in decay.
An age no longer like a month appears,
But ev'ry month becomes an hundred year?.
Felicity was griev'd, and could not bear
A fcene fo chang'd, a fight of fo much care.
She told him, with a look of cold difdain,
And feeming eafe, as women well can feign,
He might depart at will ; a milder air
Would mend his health, he was no prh'ner there:
She
ii2 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
She kept him not, and wifti'd he ne'er might fini
Caufe to regret the place he left behind ;
Which once he lov'd, and where he ftill mud own,
He had at lead fome little pleafure known.
If thefe prophetick words awhile deftroy
His peace ; the former balance it in joy.
lie thank'd her for her kind concern, but chofe
To quit the place, the reft let Heav'n difpofe.
For Fate, on mifchiefs bent, perverts the will,
And firfl infatuates whom it means to kill.
Aurora now, not as flie wont to rife,
In gay attire ting'd with a thoufand dyes,
But fober-fad in folemn ftate appears,
Clad in a dufky veil bedew'd with tears.
Thick mantling clouds beneath her chariot fpread,
A faded wreathe hangs drooping from her head.
The fick'ning fun emits a feeble ray,
Half drown'd in fogs, and ftruggling into day.
Some black event the threat'ning fkies foretel.
Porfenna rofe to take his laft farewel.
A curious vert the mournful princefs brought,
And armour by the Lemnian artiil wrought ;
A mining lance with fecret virtue ftor'd, ' .
And of refiftlefs force a magick fword ;
Caparifons and gems of wond'rous price ;
And loaded him with gifts, and good advice :
But chief me gave, and what he moll would need,
The fieeteft of her ftud, a flying fteed.
' The fwift Grifippo,' faid th' amided fair,
(Such was the courfer's name) ' with fpced (hall bear,
' And place you fafely in your native air;
' Aflift again ft the foe ; with matohlefs might
' Ravage the field, and turn the doubtful fight :
' With care protect you till the danger ceafe,
' Your truft in war, your ornament in peace.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 113
' But this, I warn, beware ; whate'er fhall lay
4 To intercept yo'ur courfe, or tempt your Iky,
' Quit not your (addle, nor your fpeed abate,
' Till fafely landed at your palace gate.
* On this alone depends your weal or woe ;
' Such is the will of Fate, and fo the gods forefhew/
He in the fofteft terms repaid her love,
And vow'd, nor age nor abfence fhould remove
His conftant faith ; and fure (he could not blame
A fhort divorce due to his injur'd fame.
The debt difcharg'd, then mould her foldier come
Gay from the field, and flufh'd with conquefl, home ;
With equal ardour her affection meet,
And lay his laurels at his miftrefs' feet.
He ceas'd ; and, fighing, took a kind adieu :
Then urg'd his fteed. The fierce Grifippo flew ;
With rapid force outftripp'd the lagging wind.
And left the blifsful mores and weeping fair behind ;
Now o'er the feas purfu'd his airy flight,
Now fcour'd the plains, and climb'd the mountain's height.
Thus driving on at fpeed, the prince had run
Near half his courfe ; when, with the fetting fun,
As thro' a lonely lane he chanc'd to ride,
With rocks and bufhes fenc'd on either fide,
He fpy'd a waggon full of wings, that lay
Broke and o'erturn'd acrofs the narrow way.
The helplefs driver, on the dirty road
Lay ftruggling, crufh'd beneath th' incumbent load.
Never in human fhape was feen before
A wight fo pale, fo feeble, and (b poor.
Comparisons of age would do him wrong,
For Neftor's felf, if plac'd by him, were young.
His limbs were naked all, and worn fo thin,
The bones feem'd ftarting thro* the parchment (kin;
His eyes half drown'd in rheum, his accents weak ;
.Bald was his head, and furrow'd was his cheek.
P The
114 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
The confcious fteed ftopp'd ftiort in deadly fright,
And back recoiling, ftretch'd his wings for flight ;
When thus the wretch, with fupplicating tone,
And rueful face, began his piteous moan ;
And, as he fpake, the tears ran trickling down.
' O gentle youth, if pity e'er inclin'd
' Thy foul to gen'rous deeds ; if e'er thy mind
' Was touch'd with foft diftrefs, extend thy care
' To fave an old man's life, and eafe the load I bear.
' So may propitious Heav'n your journey fpeed,
' Prolong your days, and all your vows fucceed !*
Mov'd with the pray'r, the kind Porfenna ftay'd,
Too nobly-minded to refufe his aid ;
And, prudence yielding to fuperior grief,
Leap'd from his fteed, and ran to his relief;
Remov'd the weight, and gave the prisoner breath,
Juft choak'd, and gafping on the verge of death.
Then reach'd his hand ; when lightly with a bound
The grizly fpedtre vaulting from the ground,
Seiz'd him with fudclen gripe : th' aftoniih'd prince
Stood horror-ftruck, and thoughtlefs of defence.
' O king of Ruffia !' with a thund'ring found.
Bellow'd the ghaftly fiend, ' at length thou'rt found.
' Receive the ruler of mankind ; and know,
' My name is Time, thy ever-dreaded foe.
* Thefe feet are founder'd, and the wings you fee
* Worn to the pinions in purfuit of thee ;
* Thro' all the world in vain for age's fought,
* Bat Fate has doom'd thee now, and thou art caught!"
Then round his neck his arms he nimbly caft,
And feiz'd him by the throat, and grafp'd him faft ;
Till forc'd at length the foul forfook it's feat,
And the pale breathlefs corfe fell bleeding at his feet.
Scarce had the curfed fpoiler left his prey,
When, fo it chanc'd, young Zephyr pafs'd that way j
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. u;
Too late his prefence to affift his friend,
A fad, but helplefs witnefs of his end.
He chafes, and fans, and ftrives in vain to cure
His ftreaming wounds ; the work was done too fure.
Now lightly with a foft embrace uprears
The lifelefs load, and bathes it in his tears ;
Then to the blifsful feats with fpeed conveys,
And graceful on the mofTy carpet lays
With decent care, clofe by the fountain's fide,
Where firft the princefs had her phoenix fpy'd.
There with fweet flovv'rs his lovely limbs he flrew'd,
And gave a parting kifs, and fighs and tears beftow'd.
To that fad folitude the weeping dame,
Wild with her lofs, and fwoln with forrow, came.
There was me wont to vent her griefs, and mourn
Thofe dear delights that muft no more return.
Thither that morn, with more than ufual care,
She fped, but O what joy to find him there 1
As juft arriv'd, and weary with the way,
Retir'd to foft repofe her hero lay.
Now near approaching, fhe began to creep
With careful fteps, loth to diiturb his fleep ;
Till quite o'ercome with tendernefs, fhe flew,
And round his neck her arms in tranfport threw.
But, when fhe found him dead, no tongue can tell
The pangs fhe felt ! fhe fhriek'd ! and, fwooning, fell I
Waking, with loud laments me pierc'd the fkies,
And fill'd th' affrighted foreft with her cries.
That fatal hour the palace gates fhe barr'd,
And fix'd around the coaft a ftronger guard ;
Now rare appearing, and at diftance feen,
With crowds of black misfortunes plac'd between ;
Mifchiefs of every kind, corroding care,
And fears, and jealoufies, and dark defpair.
P 2 And
i* BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
And fince that day (the wretched world muft own
Thefe mournful truths by fad experience known)
No mortal e'er enjoy'd that happy clime,
And every thing on earth fubmits to Time.
WINDSOR FOREST.
TO T H I
RIGHT HON. GEORGE J.ORD LANSDOWN.
BY MR. POPE.
TH Y forefts, Windfor ! and thy green retreats,
At once the monarch's and the mufe's feats,
Invite my lays. Be prefent, fylvan maids !
Unlock your fprings, and open all your lhades.
Granville commands ; your aid, O Mufes, bring !
What mufe for Granville can refufe to iing ?
The groves of Eden, vanifh'd now fo long,
Live in defcription, and look green in fong :
Thefe, were my breatt infpir'd with equal flame,
Like them in beauty, mould be like in fame.
Here hills and vales, the woodland and the plain,
Here earth and water leem to Arive again ;
Not, chaos-like, together crufh'd and bruis'd,
But, as the worW, harmonioully confus'd :
Where order in variety we fee,
And where, tho' all things differ, all agree.
Here waving groves a chequer'd fcene difplay,
And part admit, and part exclude the day ;
As fome coy nymph her lover's warm addrefs
Nor quite indulges, or can quite reprefs.
There, interfpers'd in lawns and op'ning glades,
Thin tree:, arife that fhun each other's (hades.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. i, 7
Here in full light the ruflet plains extend ;
There, wrapt in clouds, the bluifh hills afcend.
E'en the wild heath difplays her purple dyes, 25
And 'midft the defart, fruitful fields arife,
That crown'd with tufted trees and fpringing corn,
Like verdant ifles the fable wafte adorn.
Let India boaft her plants, nor envy we
The weeping amber, or the balmy tree, 30
While by our oaks the precious loads are borne,
And realms commanded which thofe trees adorn.
Not proud Olympus yields a nobler fight,
Tho' gods afTembled grace his tow'ring height,
Than what more humble mountains offer here, 35
Where, in their bleflings, all thofe gods appear.
See Pan with flocks, with fruits Pomona crown'd,
Here blufhing Flora paints th' enamell'd ground,
Here Ceres' gifts in waving profpeft ftand,
And nodding tempt the joyful reaper's hand ; 4*
Rich Induftry fits fmiHng on the plains,
And Peace and Plenty tell, a STUART reigns.
Not thus the land appeared in ages paft,
A dreary defart, and a gloomy wafte,
To favage beafts, and favage laws a prey y 45
And kings more furious and fevere than they ;
Who claim'd the ikies, difpeopled air and floods,
The lonely lords of empty wilds and woods :
Cities laid wafte, they ftorm'd the dens and caves,
(For wifer brutes were backward to be flaves.) 50
What could be free, when lawlefs beafts obey'd,
And e'en the elements a tyrant fway'd ?
In vain kind feafons fwell'd the teeming grain,
Soft (how'rs diftill'd, and funs grew warm in vain ;
The fwain with tears his fruftrate labour yields, 55
And famiih'd dies amidft his ripen'd fields.
What wonder then, a beaft or fubjeil flain,
Wer equal crimes, in a defpotick reign ?
Both
& BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Both doom'd alike, for fportive tyrants bled,
But while the-fubjeft ftarv'd, the bealt was fed. 60
Proud Nimrod fint the bloody chace began,
A mighty hunter, and his prey was man :
Our haughty Norman boafts that barb'rous name,
And makes his trembling flaves the royal game.
The fields are ravifh'd from th' induftrious fwains, 6r
From men their cities, and from gods their fanes:
The levell'd towns with weeds lie cover'd o'er,
The hollow winds thro' naked temples roar,
Round broken columns clafping ivy twin'd,
O'er heaps of ruin italk'd the ftately hind, 70
The fox obfcene to gaping tombs retires,
And favage howlings fill the facred choirs.
Aw'd by his Nobles, by his Commons curs'd,
Th' oppreflbr rul'd tyrannick where he durft ;
Stretch'd o'er the poor and church his iron rod, 75
And ferv'd alike his vafTals and his God.
Whom e'en the Saxon fpar'd, and bloody Dane,
The wanton viftims of his fport remain.
But, fee ! the man who fpacious regions gave
A wafte for beafts, himfelf deny'd a grave ! 80
Stretch'd on the lawn his fecond hope furvey,
At once the chafer, and at once the prey :
Lo, Rufus, tugging at the deadly dart,
Bleeds in the foreft like a wounded hart.
Succeeding monarchs heard the fubje&s cries, 85
Nor faw difpleas'd the peaceful cottage rife.
Then gath'ring flocks on unknown mountains fed,
O'er fandy wilds were yellow harvefts fpread,
The foreft wonder'd at th' unufual grain,
And fecret tranfport touch'd the confcious fwain. 90
Fair Liberty, Britannia's goddefs, rears
Her chearful head, and leads the golden years.
Ye vig'rous fwains ! while youth ferments your bicod,
And purer fpiiit.- fwell the fprigiuly flood,
Now
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. , I9
Now range the hills, the gameful woods befet, oc
Wind the fhrill horn, or fpread the waving net.
When milder autumn fummer's heat fucceeds,
And in the new-morn field the partridge feeds,
Before his lord the ready fpaniel bounds,
Panting with hope, he tries the furrow'd grounds j loo
But when the tainted gales the game betray,
Couch'd clofe he lies, and meditates the prey :
Secure they ttuft th' unfaithful field befet,
Till hov'ring o'er 'em fweeps the fwelling net.
Thus (if fmall things we may with great compare) 105
When Albion fends her eager fons to war,
Some thoughtlefs town, with eafe and plenty bleft,
Near, and more near, the cldfing lines invert ;
Sudden they feize th' amaz'd defencelefs prize,
And high in air Britannia's ftandard flies. 1 10
See ! from the brake the whirring pheafant fprings,
And mounts exultirtg on triumphant wings :
Short is his joy ; he feels the fiery wound,
Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground.
Ah ! what avails his glofly, varying dyes, 1 15
His purple crefl, and fcarlet-circled eys,
The vivid green his ihining plumes unfold,
His painted wings, and breaft that flames with gold !
Nor yet, when moift Ar&urus clouds the flcy,
The woods and fields their pleanng toils deny. 1 20
To plains with well-breath'd beagles we repair,
And trace the mazes of the circling hare :
(Beafts, urg'd by us, their fellow-bealls purfue,
And learn of man each other to undo !)
With flaught'ring guns th' unweary'd fowler roves, 125
When frofts have whiten'd all the naked groves ;
Where doves in flocks the leaflefs trees o'erfliade,
And lonely woodcocks haunt the wat'ry glade.
He lifts the tube, and levels with his eye ;
Straight a fhort thunder breaks the-frozen (ky : I -,0
Oft.
129 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Oft, as in airy rings they fkim the heath,
The clam'rous lapwings feel the leaden death ;
Oft, as the mounting larks their notes prepare,
They fall, and leave their little lives in air.
In genial Ipring, beneath the quiv'ring made,
Where cooling vapours breathe along the mead,
The patient fiftier takes his filent ftand,
Intent, his angle trembling in his hand :
With looks unmov'd, he hopes the fcaly breed,
And eyes the dancing cork and bending reed.
Our plenteous dreams a various race fupply,
The bright-ey'd perch, with fins of Tyrian dye ;
The filver eel, in mining volumes roll'd ;
The yellow carp, in fcales bedropp'd with gold ;
Swift trouts, diverfify'd with crimfon ftains ;
And pikes, the tyrants of the wat'ry plains.
Now Cancer glows with Phoebus' fiery car :
The youth rufh eager to the fylvan war,
Swarm o'er the lawns, the foreft walks furround,
Rouze the fleet hart, and chear the opening hound.
Th' impatient courfer pants in every vein,
And pawing, feems to beat the diftant plain f
Hills, vales, and floods, appear already crofs'd,
And ere he ftarts, a thoufand fteps are loft.
See the bold youth ftrain up the threat'ning fteep,
Rufii through the thickets, down the vallies fweep,
Hang o'er their courfers heads with eager fpeed,
And earth rolls back beneath the flying fteed.
Let old Arcadia boaft her ample plain,
Th' immortal huntrefs, and her virgin-train ;
Nor envy, Windfor ! fmce thy fliades have feen
As bright a goddefs, and as chafle a queen ;
Whofe care, like her's, protects the fylvan reign,
The earth's fair light, and emprefs of the main.
Here too, 'tis fung, of old Diana ftray'd,
And Cynthus' top forfook for Windfor ftade ;
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 121
Here was me feen o'er airy waftes to rove,
Seek the clear fpring, or haunt the pathlefs grove ;
Here, arm'd with filver bows, in early dawn,
Her bufkin'd virgins trac'd the dewy lawn. 170
Above the reft a rural nymph was fam'd,
Thy offspring> Thames ! the fair Lodona nam'd ;
(Lodona's fate, in long oblivion caft,
The mufe mall fmg, and what me fings mall laft.)
Scarce could the goddefs from her nymph be known, 17$
But by the crefcent, and the golden zone.
She fcorn'd the praife of beauty, and the care j
A belt her waift, a fillet binds her hair ;
A painted quiver on her moulder founds,
And with her dart the flying deer me wtmndsi lie
It chanc'd, as eager of the chace, the maid \
Beyond the foreft's verdant limits ftray'd,
Pan favv, and lov'd ; and> burning with defire,
Purfu'd her flight ; her flight increas'd his fire.
Not half fo fwift the trembling doves can fly, 185
When the fierce eagle cleaves the liquid Iky ;
Not half fo fwiftly the fierce eagle moves,
When thro' the clouds he drives the trembling doves ;
As from the god fhe flew with furious pace,
Or as the god, more furious, urg'd the chace. toe
Now fainting, finking, pale, the nymph appears ;
Now clofe behind, his founding fteps fhe hears ;
And now his fhadow reach'd her as me run,
His fhadow lengthen'd by the fetting fun ;
And now his fhorter breath, with fultry air, I or
Pants on her neck, and fans her parting hair.
In vain on Father Thames fhe calls for aid,
Nor could Diana help her injur'd maid.
Faint, breathlefs, thus fhe pray'd, nor pray'd in vain ;
k Ah, Cynthia 1 ah tho' banilh'd from thy train, 200
' Let me, O let me, to the fhades repair,
* My native fhadei there weep, and murmur there^'
O She
2z BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
She faid ; and melting as in tears fhe lay,
In a foft filver ftream difiblv'd away.
The filver ftream her virgin coldnefs keeps, 205
For ever murmurs, and for ever weeps ;
Still bears the name the haplefs virgin bore,
And bathes the foreft where fhe rang'd before.
In her chafte current oft the goddefs laves,
And with celeftial tears augments the waves. 210
Oft in her glafs the mufmg fhepherd fpies
The headlong mountains and the downward flues,
The wat'ry landfcape of the pendant woods,
And abfent trees that tremble in the floods j
In the clear azure gleam the flocks are feen, 215
And floating forefts paint the waves with green,
Thro' the fair fcene roll flow the ling'ring ftreams,
Then foaming pour along, and rufli into the Thames.
Thou, too, great father of the Britifli floods !
With joyful pride furvey'ft our lofty woods ; 220
Where tow'ring oaks their growing honours rear,
And future navies on thy fhores appear,
Not Neptune's felf, from all her ftreams, receives
A wealthier tribute, than to thine he gives.
No feas fo rich, fo gay no banks appear, 225
No lake fo gerrtle, and no fpring fo clear.
Nor Po fo fwells the fabling poet's lays,
While led along the fkies his current ftrays,
As thine, which viflts Windfor's fam'd abodes,
To grace the manfion of our earthly gods : 230
Nor all his ftars 'above a luftre mow,
Like the bright beauties on thy banks below ;
Where Jove, fubdu'd by mortal paflion ftill,
Might change Olympus for a nobler hill.
Happy the man whom this bright court approves, 23 J
Hie fov'reigirfavours, and his country loves :
Happy next him, who to thefe (hades retires,
Whom Nature charms, and whom the Mafe infpires ;
Whom
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 123
Whom humbler joys of home-felt quiet pleafe,
Succefiive ftudy, exercife, and eafe. 240
He gathers health from herbs the foreft yields,
And of their fragrant phyfick fpoils the fields :
With chymick art exalts the min'ral pow'rs,
And draws the aromatick fouls of flow'rs :
Now marks the courfe of rolling orbs on high ; 2^5
O'er figur'd worlds now travels with his eye ;
Of ancient writ unlocks the learned {tore,
Confults the dead, and lives paft ages o'er :
Or wand'ring thoughtful in the filent wood,
Attends the duties of the wife and good, 250
T' obferve a mean, be to himfelf a friend,
To follow nature, and regard his end ;
Or looks on heav'n with more than mortal eyes,
Bids his free foul expatiate in the ikies,
Amid her kindred ftars familiar roam, 255
Survey the region, and confefs her home !
Such was the life great Scipio once admir'd,
Thus Atticus, and Trumbal thus retir'd.
Ye facred Nine ! that all my foul pofiefs,
Whofe raptures fire me, and whofe vifions blefs, 260
Bear me, O bear me to fequefler'd fcenes,
The bovv'ry mazes, and furrounding greens ;
To Thames's banks which fragrant breezes fill,
Or where ye mufes fport on Cooper's Hill.
(On Cooper's Hill eternal wreathes mail grow, 265
While lafts the mountain, or while Thames mail flow)
I feeni thro' confecrated walks to rove,
I hear foft mufick die along the grove :
Led by the found, I roam from lhade to made,
By god-like poets venerable made. 270
Here his firft lays majeftick Denham fung;
There the laft numbers flow'd from Cowley's tongue.
O early loft ! what tears the river fhed,
When the fad pomp along his banks was led !
2 Hii
124 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
His drooping fwans on ev'ry note expire,
And on his willows hung each mufe's lyre.
Since fate relentlefs ftopp'd their heav'nly voice,
No more the forefts ring, or groves rejoice ;
Who now mall charm the {hades where Cowley ftrung
His living harp, and lofty Denham fung ?
But hark ! the groves rejoice, the foreft rings !
Are thefe reviv'd ? or is it Granville fings ?
'Tis yours, my lord, to blefs our foft retreats,
And call the mufes to their ancient feats ;
To paint anew the flow'ry fylvan fcencs,
To crown the forefts with immortal greens,
Make Windfor hills in lofty numbers rife,
And lift her turrets nearer to the flues ;
To fmg thofe honours you deferve to wear,
And add new luftre to her filver flar.
Here noble Surrey felt the facred rage,
Surrey, the Granville of a former age :
Matchlefs his pen, victorious was his lance,
Bold in the lifts, and graceful in the dance :
In the fame fhades the Cupids tun'd his lyre,
To the fame notes, of love, and foft defire ;
Fair Geraldine, bright object of his vow,
Then fill'd the groves, as heav'nly Mira now.
Oh, would'ft thou fing what heroes Windfor bore,
What kings firft breath'd upon her winding more,
Or raife old warriors, whofe ador'd remains
Jn weeping vaults her hallow'd earth contains !
With Edward's ats adorn the mining page,
Stretch his long triumphs down thro' ev'ry age,
Draw monarch's chain'd, and Creffi's glorious field,
The lilies blazing on the regal fhield :
Then, from her roofs when Verrio's colours fall,
And leave inanimate the naked wall,
Still in thy fong mould vanquifh'd France appear,
And bleed for ever under Britain's fpear.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 125
Let fofter ftrains ill-fated Henry mourn,
And palms eternal flourilh round his urn.
Here o'er the martyr-king the marble weeps,
.And, faft befide him, once-fear'd Edward fleeps :
Whom not th' extended Albion could contain, 3*5
From old Belerium to the northern main,
The grave unites ; where e'en the great find reft,
And blended lie th' oppreflbr and th' oppreft !
Make facred Charles's tomb for ever known,
(Obfcure the place, and un-infcrib'd the ftone) 320
Oh, rad acurs ? d ! what tears has Albion fhed !
Heav'ns, what new wounds ! and how her old have bled !
She faw her fons with purple deaths expire,
Her facred domes involv'd in rolling fire,
A dreadful feries of inteftine wars, 32;
Inglorious triumphs, and difhoneft fears ;
At length, great Anna faid ' Let difcord ceafe !*
She faid, the world obey'd, and all was peace !
In that blefs'd moment, from his oozy bed,
Old Father Thames advanc'd his rev'rend head. 330
His trefles dropp'd with dews, and o'er the ftream
His mining horns diffus'd a golden gleam :
Grav'd on his urn appear'd the moon, that guides
His fwelling waters, and alternate tides ;
The figur'd ftreams in waves of filver roll'd, 335
And on their banks Augufta rofe in gold.
Around his throne the fea-born brothers flood.
Who fwell with tributary urns his flood !
Firft, the fam'd authors of his ancient name,
The winding Ifis, and the fruitful Thame : 340
The Kennel fwift, for filver eels renown'd ;
The Loddon flow, with verdant alders crown 'd ;
Cole, whofe dark ftreams his flow'ry iflands lave ;
And chalky Wey, that rolls a milky wave :
The blue, tranfparent Vandalis appears ; 345
The gulphy Lee his fedgy trefles rears ;
And
z6 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
And fallen Mole, that hides his diving flood ;
And filent Darent, ftain'd with Danifh blood.
High in the midft, upon his urn reclin'd,
(His fea-green mantle waving with the wind) 35C
The god appear'd : he turn'd his azure eyes
Where Windfor domes and pompous turrets rife ;
Then bow'd, and fpoke; the winds forget to roar,
And the hufh'd waves glide foftly to the more.
' Hail, facred Peace ! hail, long-expeded days, 355
< That Thames's glory to the ftars fliall raife !
' Tho' Tiber's ftreams immortal Rome behold,
' Tho' foaming Hermus fwells with tides of gold,
' From heav'n itfelf the fev'n-fold Nilus flows,
' And harvefts on a hundred realms bellows ; 360
' Thefe now no more iha.ll be the mufe's themes,
' Loft in my fame, as in the fea their ftreams.
f Let Volga's banks with iron fquadrons mine,
' And groves of lances glitter on the Rhine,
' Let barb'rous Ganges arm a fervile train, 36^
' Be mine the bleflings of a peaceful reign ;
' No more my fons mail dye with Britifli blood
* Red Iber's fands, or liter's foaming flood :
Safe on my ihore each unmolefted fwain
' Shall tend the flocks, or reap the bearded grain; 370
' The fhady empire fliall retain no trace
' Of war or blood, but in the fylvan chace ;
' The trumpet fleep, while chearful horns are blown,
And arms employ'd on birds and beafts alone.
* Behold ! th' afcending villa's on my iide, 375
' Prcjecl long madows o'er the cryftal tide.
* Behold ! Augufta's glitt'ring fpires encreafe,
' And temples rife, the beauteous works of peace.
' I fee, I fee, where two fair cities bend
Their ample bow, a new Whitehall afcend ! 380
' There mighty nations mall enquire their doom,
The world's great oracle in times to come ;
There
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. n ?
There kings fhall fue, and fuppliant ftates be feen
Once more ttf bend before aBritifh queen.
f Thy trees, fair Windfor ! now fhall leave their woods 385
And half thy forefts rufti into the floods ;
Bear Britain's thunder, and her crofs difplay,
To the bright regions of the rifing day ;
Tempt icy feas, where fcarce the waters roll,
Where clearer flames glow round the frozen Pole ; 390
Or under fouthern fkies exalt their fails,
Led by new flars, and borne by fpicy gales !
For me the balm fhall bleed, and amber flow,
The coral redden, and the ruby glow,
The pearly fhell it's lucid globe infold, 395
And Phoebus warm the rip'ning ore to gold.
The time fhall come, when free ais feas or wind,
Unbounded Thames fhall flow for all mankind,
Whole nations enter with each fwelling tide,
And feas but join the regions they divide ; 400
Earth's diftant ends our glory 'fhall behold,
And the new world launch forth to feek the old.
Then fhips of uncouth form fhall ftem the tide,
And feather'd people croud -my wealthy-fide,
And naked youths and painted chiefs admire 405
Our fpeech, our colour, and our flrange attire !
Oh, ftretch thy reign, fair Peace 1 from fKor.e. < to,-Jhore >
Till conquefl ceafe, and flav'ry be no more ;
Till the freed Indians, in their native grotfes A
Reap their own fruits, and woo their fable loves,,
Peru once more a race of kings behold,
And other Mexico's be roof 'd with gold !
Exil'd by thee, from earth to deepeft hell,
In brazen bonds, fhall barbVous difcord dwell :
Gigantick pride, pale terror, gloomy tare, 415
And mad ambition, fhall attend her th-rc :
There purple vengeance bath'-d in gore retire:,
Her weapons blunted, and extinct her fires :
There
it8 BEAUTIES OF POETRY;
' There hateful envy her own fnakes fhall feel,
' And perfecution mourn her broken wheel ; $i&
* There faftion roar, rebellion bite her chain,
' And gafping furies thirft for blood in vain.'
Here ceafe thy flight, nor with unhallow'd lays
Touch the fair fame of Albion's golden days :
The thoughts of gods let Granville's verfe recite, 42^
And bring the fcenes of op'ning fate to light :
My humble mufe, in unambitious ftrains,
Paints the green forelts and the flow'ry plains,
Where Peace defcending bids her olives fpring,
And fcatters bleffings from her dove-like wing. 430
E'en I more fweetly pafs my carelefs days,
Pleas'd in the filent fhade with empty praife ;
Enough for me, that to the lift'ning fwains
Firil in thefe fields I fung the fylvan ftrains*
HYMN TO THE CREATOR.
BY THE REV. MR. MERRICK.
GOD of my health ! whofe bounteous care
Firft gave me power to move,
How mall my thankful heart declare
The wonders of thy love !
While voicl of thought and fenfe I lay,
Duft of my parent earth,
Thy breath inform'd the fleeping clay,
And call'd me into birth.
From thee my parts their fafhion took*
And ere my life begun,
Within the volume of thy book
Were written one by one,
Thy
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 129
Thy eye beheld in open view
The yet unfinifh'd plan ;
The fhadowy lines thy pencil drew.
And form'd the future man.
O may this frame, that rifing grew
Beneath thy plaftick hands,
Be ftudious ever to purfue
Whate'er thy will commands !
The foul that moves this earthly load,
Thy femblance let it bear,
Nor lofe the traces of the God
That ftamp'd his image there !
THE PLEASURES OF CONTEMPLATION.
BY MRS. DARWAL, FORMERLY MISS WHATLEY.
OU E E N of the halcyon breaft, and heaven-ward eye,
Sweet Contemplation, with thy ray benign
Light my lone paflage thro' this vale of life,
And raife the fiege of Care ! This filent hour
To thee is facred, when the ftar of eve,
Like Dian's virgins trembling ere they bathe,
Shoots o'er the Hefperian wave it's quivering ray.
All nature joins to fill my labouring breaft
With high fenfations : aweful filence reigns
Above, around ; the founding winds no more
Wild thro' the fluctuating foreft fly
Withguft impetuous ; Zephyr fcarcely breathes
Upon the trembling foliage ; flocks and herds,
Retir'd beneath the friendly ihade repofe,
, Faun'd by oblivion's wing. Ha ! is not this,
R This
i 3 o BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
This the dread hour, as ancient fables tell,
When flitting fpirits, from their prifons broke,
By moon-light glide along the dufky vales,
The folemn church-yard, or the dreary grove ;
Fond to revifit their once-lov'd abodes,
And view each friendly fcene of paft delight !
Satyrs, and fawns, that in iequefter'd woods
And deep-embowering fhades delight to dwell;
Quitting their caves, where in the reign of day
They fleep in filence, o'er the daified gre'en
"Purfue their gambols, and with printlefs feet
Chafe the fleet fhadows o'er the waving plains.
Dryads, and Naiads, from each fpring and grove,
Trip blithfome o'er the lawns ; or, near the fide
Of mofly fountains, fport in Cynthia's beams.
The fairy elves, attendant on their queen,
With light fleps bound along the velvet mead,
And leave the green impreifion of their dance
Jn rings myfterious to the patting fwain ;
While the pellucid glow-worm kindly lends
Her filver lamp to light the feftive fcene.
From yon majeilick pile, in ruin great,
Whofe lofty towers once on approaching foes
Look'd item defiance, the fad bird of night,
In mournful accent, to die moon complains :
Thcfe towers with venerable ivy crown'd,
And mouldering into ruin, yield no more
A fafe retirement to the hoftile bands ;
Eut there the lonely bat, that Ihuns the day,
Dwells in dull folitude ; and fcreamiug thence
Wheels the night raven fhrill, with hideous note
Portending death to the deje&ed fwain.
Each plant and flo'.v'ret bath'd in evening dews,
Exhale refreming fweets : from the fmooth lake,
On whole ftill bofom fleeps the tall tree's fhade,
The moon's foft rays jrefle&ed mildly Ihine.
Now
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 131
Now towering Fancy takes her airy flight
Without reflraint, and leaves this earth behind ;
From pole to pole, from world to world fhe flies ;
Rocks, feas, nor flcies, can interrupt her courfe.
Is this what men, to thought eftrang'd, mifcal
Defpondence ? this dull melancholy's fcene ?
To trace the Eternal Caufe thro' all his works,
Minutely and magnificently wife ?
Mark the gradations which thro' Nature's plan
Join each to each, and form the vaft defign ?
And tho* day's glorious guide withdraws his beams
Impartial, chearing other fkies and (Lores ;
Rich intellect, that fcorns corporeal bands,
With more than mid-day radiance gilds the fcene :
The mind, now refcu'd from the cares of day,
Roves unreitrain'd thro' the wide realms of fpace;
Where (thought ftupendous !) fyitems infinite,
In regular confufion taught to move,
Like gems befpangle yon etherial plains !
Ye fons of pleafure, and ye foes to thought,
Who fearch for blifs in the capacious bowl,
And blindly woo intemperance for joy ;
Durfl ye retire, hold converfe with yourfelves,
And in the filent hours of darknefs court
Kind Contemplation with her peaceful train j
How would the minutes dance on downy feet,
And unperceiv'd the midnight taper wafte,
While intellectual pleafure reign'd fupreme !
Ye mufes, graces, virtues, heaven-born maiJ^
Who love in peaceful foliuide to dwell
With meek-ey'd innocence, and radiant truth,
And blufhing modefly ; that frighted fly
The dark intrigue, and midnight mafquerade ;
What is this pleafure which enchants mankind ?
'Tis noife, 'tis toil, 'tis frenzy ; like the cup
R 2 Of
132 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Of Circe, fam'd of old; who taftes it finds
Th' etherial fpark divine to brute transform'd.
And now, me.thinks, I hear the libertine
With fupercilious leer cry, ' Preach no more
' Your mufty morals ; hence, to defarts fly,
' And in the gloom of folitary caves
* Aufterely dwell : what's life, debarr'd from joy ?
* Crown, then, the bowl ; let Mufick lend her aid,
' And Beauty her's, to foothe my wayward cares.'
Ah ! little does he know the nymph he ftyles
A foe to pleafure ; pleafure is not more
His aim than her's ; with him me joins to blame
The hermit's gloom, and favage penances ;
Each focial joy- approves. Oh ! without thee,
Fair Friendfhip, life were nothing ; without thee,
The page of fancy would no longer charm,
And folitude difguft e'en penfive minds.
Nought I condemn, but that excefs which clouds
The mental faculties, to foothe the fenfe :
Let Reafon, Truth, and Virtue, guide thy fteps.
And every blefling Heav'n beftows, be thine !
VERSES
ADDBESSID TO
HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS GEORGE PRINCE OF WALES**
BY MR. J. MACAULAY.
WHILE gen'ral plaudits of deferv'd renown
(The hero's glory, and the patriot's crown)
Proclaim the day to Britifli virtue dear,
And hail the produce of an added year ;
* Thefe Verfes were preferred at Windfor to His Royal Highnefs the
Prince of Wales, on the morning of his late birth-day, Auguft 12. 1780, when
he entered his nineteenth year.
Permit
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 133
Permit the nrufe, in no fedu&ive ftrains,
From rural {hades and fummer-fmiling plains,
To fpeak the wifh that fires each gen'rous breaft,
Of joy the founder, and of love the teft.
Ere yet bright Phoebus gilds the ruddy eaft,
To floth a ftranger, and a foe to reft,
Why does the f\vain, with unremitting toil,
Guide the (harp plough-mare thro' the yielding foil ?
Why does his nervous frame each ihock defy,
And dare the rigour of th* inclement fey ;
Ere yet confirm'd the doubtful fpring is feen,
And the chill blaft fweeps o'er the dewy green ?
Does not his eye in future fcene behold
The fpacious fields enrich'd with waving gold?
Does not the blifsful hope infpire his breaft,
Of rifing barns with plenteous harveft prefs'd ?
Swift to his view in gay fuccefiion rife,
The bright productions of autumnal fkies.
Deck'd in their richeft drefs the plains appear,
And all the glories of the ripen' d year.
'Tis thus, great Sir, with hopes like thefe pofiefs'd,
(Each fond emotion kindling in her breaft)
Has Britain view'd her prince with anxious eyes,
And joy'd to fee each genuine virtue rife.
From tend'reft infancy to childhood brought,
She bade each grace inform the rifing thought :
More vig'rous grown, fhe hail'd the blooming moot,
And the rich promife of the riper fruit.
But now matur'd me fees her profpeft rife.
Beneath the genial warmth of Britifh fkies.
Sees the long courfe of gen'rous culture pad,
And hopes the harveft of her toils at laft :
To future glories lifts her dazzl'd view,
And bids thofe future glories reft on You.
Nor vain her hopes for fure, if aught can charm
The human foul ; if gen'rous thought can warm
The
134 BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
The youthful breaft, and bid each virtue there
Sprout forth redundant to th'enlivening air,
'Tis Publick Love ! by nobleft deeds exprefs'd !
The god-like tenant of the hero's breaft !
By this infpir'd, each ancient chief of fame
Gain'd the vaft honour of a deathlefs name ;
By this upheld, amidft her patriot-band,
What fplendid triumphs grac'd the Argive land !
By this Imperial- Rome was taught to rife,
And Eaftern grandeur mone in Latian fkies.
Beneath this fun, emerging to the day,
Each glory mining with redoubl'd ray,
Majeftick Britain rofe Hail, native land !
Strong to fubdue, and fkilful to command.
No hoftile force mail make thy ftedfaft bafe,
Nor fecret guile thy well-form'd plans deface ;
While thine own fons, by publick virtue fir'd,
By glory charm'd, by liberty infpir'd,
Stand forth thy guardians, nations league in vain,
Britain mall fway the trident of the main ;
And wond'ring foes, in deep conviction, fee
The force of Britifh unanimity.
Be this, O George ! be this thy nobleft aim ;
By this afcent purfue the heights of fame !
Princes, like Heav'n, mould wide around difpenfe
The rich profusion of benevolence.
Great in their people's love, and wifely juft,
The beft depofits of the nobleft truft.
While, by each virtue rais'd, each grace refin'd, -\
Bv Heav'n advanc'd, they prove what Heav'n defign'd, >
The rulers and the faviours of mankind. 3
Thus, when by hoary age and toil opprefs'd,
Your gracious Sire mail feek immortal reft ;
When, call'd by Heav'n, he joyfully lays down
A temp'ral circlet for an endlefs crown ;
Your
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 135
Your virtues then fhall Britain's lofs fupply,
And bid affli&ion dry the ftreaming eye :
Brunfwick again (hall grace Britannia's throne,
Great in paternal fame> and fpotlefs in his own !
THE PROGRESS OF POETRY.
BY MRS. MADAN.
Vitis ut arborlbus decorl eft, ut vitibus uvs;
Ut gregibus tauri, fegetes ut pinguibus arvis ;
Tu decus omne tuis. vif.6.
UNE QJJAL, how (hall I the fearch begin,
Or paint with artlefs hand the awful fcene ?
Thro' paths divine with fteps adventurous tread,
And trace the mufes to theirjfountain-head ?
Ye facred Nine, your mighty aid impart,
AIM my numbers, and enlarge my heart !
Direct my lyre, and tune each trembling firing,
While Poetry's exalted charms I fing ;
How, free as air, her drains fpontaneous move,
Kindle to rage, or melt the foul to love :
How her firft emanations dawn'd, difclofe ;
And where, great fource of verfe ! bright Phoebus firft arofe.
Where nature warmth and genius has deny'd,
In vain are art's ftifF languid powers apply'd.
Unforc'd the mufes fmile, above controul :
No art can tune the inharmonius foul.
Some rules, 'tis true, unerring, you may cull,
And void of life, be regularly dull ;
Correctly flat may flow each ftudied rhime,
And each low period indolently chime.
A common ear, perhaps, or vulgar heart,
Such lays may pleafe the labour'd work of art!
Far
BEAUTIES OF POEtRY.
Far other ftrains delight the polifh'd mind,
The ear well judging, and the tafte refin'd.
To blend in heavenly numbers eafe and fire,
An Addifon will afk, a Pope require :
Genius alone can force, like theirs, beftow,
As ftars, unconfcious of their brightnefs, glow.
Hail Greece ! from whence the fpark etherial came,
That wide o'er earth diffus'd it's facred flame;
There the firft laurel form'd a deathlefs (hade,
And fprung immortal for thy Homer's head.
There the great bard the rifing wonder wrought,
And plann'd the Iliad in his boundlefs thought ;
By no mean fteps to full perfedion grew,
But burft at once refulgent to the view.
Who can unmov'd the warm defcription read,
Where the wing'd fhaft repels the bounding fteed ?
Where the torn fpoils of the rapacious war,
With mocking pomp adorn the victor's car ?
When, from fome hoilile arm difmifs'd, the reed
On the mark'd foe directs it's thirfty {peed,
Such ftrength, fuch a&ion, ftrikes our eager fight,
We view, and fhudder at it's fatal flight ;
We hear the ftraighten'd yew recoiling ftart,
And fee thro' air glide fwift the whizzing dart !
When higher themes a bolder ftrain demand,
Life waits the poet's animating hand :
There, where majeftick, to the fanguin'd field,
Stern Ajax ftalks behind his feven-fold fhield ;
Or where, in polifh'd arms feverely bright,
Pelides dreadful rufhes to the tight ;
With- martial ardour breathes each kindling page
The direful havock and unbounded rage,
The clafh of arms tumultuous from afar,
And all that fires the hero'? foul to war !
Bold Pindar next, with matchlefs force ami f re
Divinely circled, wak'd the founding lyre,
Unbound
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 137
Unbound by rule, he urg'd each vigorous lay,
And gave his mighty genius room to play :
The Grecian games employ his daring ftrings,
In numbers rapid as the race he fings.
Mark, Mufe, the confcious made and vocal grove,
Where Sappho tun'd her melting voice to love,
While Echo each harmonious drain return'd,
And with the foft-complaining Lefbian mourn'd.
With rofes crown'd, on flowers fupinely laid,
Anacreon next the fprightly lyre efTay'd,
In light fantaftick meafures beat the ground,
Or dealt the mirth-infpiring juice around.
No care, no thought, the tuneful Teian knew.
But mark'd with blifs each moment as it flew.
Behold the foil, where fmooth Clitumnus glides.
And rolls thro' fmiling fields his duftile tides ;
Where fwoln Eridanus in flate proceeds,
And tardy Mincio wanders thro' the meads ;
Where breathing flowers ambrofial fweets diflil,
And the foft air with balmy fragrance fill.
O Italy ! tho' joyful plenty reigns,
And Nature laughs amid thy bloomy plains ;
Tho' all thy fhades poetick warmth infpire,
Tune the rapt foul, and fan the facred fire ;
Thofe plains and fhades fhall reach th' appointed date,
And all their fading honours yield to fate :
Thy wide renown, and ever-blooming fame,
Stand on the bafis of a nobler claim ;
In thee his harp immortal Virgil flrung,
Of fhepherds, flocks, and mighty heroes fung.
Sec Horace, lhaded by the lyrick wreathe,
Where every grace and all the mufes breathe;
Where courtly eafe adorns each happy line,
And Pindar's fire and Sappho's foftnefs join.
Politely wife, with calm well-govern'd rage,
He lafh'd the reigning follies of the age j
S Witk
138 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
With wit, not fpleen, indulgently fevere,
To reach the heart he charm'd the liflening ear-
When foothing themes each milder note employ,
Each milder note fwclls foft \o love and joy ;
Smooth as the fame-prefaging doves * that fpread
Prophetick wreathes around his infant head.
Ye numerous bards unfung (whofe various lays
A genius equal to your own mould praife)
Forgive the Mufe, who feels an inbred flame
Refiflle.fs, to exalt her country's fame ;
A foreign clime me leaves and turns her eyes
Where her own Britain's favourite towers arife ;
Where Thames rolls deep his plenteous tides around,
His banks with thick -afcending turrets crown'd ;
Yet not thefe fcenes th' impartial mufe could boaft^
Were liberty, thy great diftinclion, loft.
"Britannia, hail ! o'er whofe luxuriant plain,
For the free natives waves the rip'ning grain :
'Twas facred Liberty's celeftial fmile
Firft lur'd the mufes to thy generous ifle ;
'Twas Liberty beftow'd the power to fmg,
And bid the verfe-rewarding laurel fpring.
Here Chaucer firft his comick vein difplay'd,
And merry tales in homely guife convey'd ;
TJnpolim'd beauties grac'd the artlefs fong,
Tho' rude the di&ion, yet the fenfe was llrong.
To fmoother drains chaftifmg tunelefs profe,
In plain magnificence great Spencer rofe ;
In forms diilinft, in each creating line,
The virtues, vices, and the paffions mine :
Subfervient Nature aids the poet's rage,
And with herfelf infpires each nervous page.
Exalted Shakefpeare, with a boundlefs mind,
Rang'd far and wide ; a genius unconfin'd !
* Vide Hor. Lib. iii. Ode iv,
Thq
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
The paffions fway'd, and captive led the heart,
Without the critick's rules, and void of art :
So fome fair clime, by fmiling Phoebus blefs'd,
And in a thoufand charms by Nature drefs'd,
Where limpid flreams in wild meanders flow,
And on the mountains tow'ririg forefts grow,
With lovely landfcapes lures the ravifh'd fight,
While each new fcene fupplies a new delight :
No induftry of man, no needlefs toil,
Can mend the rich uncultivated foil;
While Cowley's lays with fprightly vigour move*
Around him wait the gods of verfe and love ;
So quick the crouding images arife,
The bright variety diftracls oUr eyes ;
Each fparkling line, where fire with fancy flows,
The rich profufion of his genius mows.
To Waller, next, my wandering view I bend,
Gentle, as flakes of feather'd fnow defcend :
Not the fame fnow, it's filcnt journey done,
More radiant glitters in the rifmg fun.
O happy nymph ! who could thofe lays demand*
And claim the care of this immortal hand :
In vain might age thy heavenly form invade,
And o'er thy beauties caft an envious (hade ;
Waller the place of youth and bloom fupplies>
And gives exhauftlcfs luftre to thy eyes ;
Each mufe aflifting rifles every grace,
To paint the wonders of thy matchlefs face.
Thus, when at Greece, divine Apelles ftrove
To give to earth the radiant queen of love,
From each bright nymph fome dazzling charm he took
This fair-one's lips, another's lovely look ;
Each beauty pleas'd, a fmile, or air beftows,
Till all the goddefs from the canvas role.
Immortal Milton, hail ! whofe lofty ftraih
With confcious ftrength does vulgar t|iemes difdain;
S 2
HO BEAUTIES O* POETRY.
Sublime afcended thy fuperior foul,
Where neither lightnings flam, nor thunders roll ;
Where other funs drink deep th' eternal ray,
And thence to other worlds tranfmit the day;
Where, high in ether, countlefs planets move,
And various moons, attendant, round them rove.
O bear me to thofe foft, delightful fcenes,
Where Ihades far-fpreading boaft immortal greens ;
Where paradife unfolds her fragrant flowers,
Her fweets unfading, and celeftial bowers ;
Where Zephyr breathes amid the blooming wild,
Gentle as Nature's infant-beauty fmil'd ;
Where gaily reigns one ever-laughing fpring ;
Eden's delights ! which thou alone couldft fmg.
Yet not thefe fcenes could bound his daring flight ;
Born to the talk, he rofe a nobler height.
While o'er the lyre his hallow'd fingers fly,
Each wonderous touch awakens raptures high,
Thofe glorious feats he boldly durft explore,
Where faith alone, till then, had power to foar.
Smooth glide thy waves, O Thames, while I rehearfe
The name that taught thee firft to flow in verfe *;
Let facred filence hufli thy grateful tides,
The ofier ceafe to tremble on thy fides ;
Let thy calm waters gently fteal along;
Denham this homage claims, while he infpires my fong.
Far as thy billows roll, difpers'd away
To diftant climes, the honour'd name convey :
Not Xanthus can a nobler glory boaft,
In whofe rich ftream a thoufand floods are loft.
The ftrong, the foft, the moving, and the fweet,
In artful Dryden's various numbers meet ;
.Aw'd by his lays, each rival bard retir'd :
So fades the moon, pale, lifelefs, unadmir'd >
* Sir John Denliam's Cooper's Hill.
When
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 141
When the bright fun burfts glorious on the fight,
With radiant luftre, and a flood of light.
The comick mufe, with lively humour gay,
In Congreve's ftrains does all her charms difplay.
She rallies each abfurd impertinence,
And without labour laughs us into fenfe.
The follies of mankind ihe fets to view,
In fcenes ftill pleafmg, and for ever new.
Sure Heaven, that deftin'd William to be great,
The mighty bulwark of the Britifh ftate,
The fcourge of tyrants, guardian of the law,
Beftow'd a Garth, defigning a Naflau !
Wit, eafe, and life, in Prior blended, flow,
Polite as Granville, foft as moving Rowe ;
Granville, whofe lays unnumber'd charms adorn,
Serene and fprightly as the opening morn :
Rowe, who the fpring of every palfion knew,
And from our eyes call'd for^h the opening dew 5
Still mail his gentle mufe our fouls command,
And our warm'd hearts confefs his Ikilful hand.
Be this the leaft of his fuperior fame,
Whofe happy genius caught great Lucan's flame,
Where noble Pompey dauntlefs meets his doom,
And each free ftrain breathes Liberty and Rome.
O Addifon, lamented, wond'rous bard !
The god-like hero's great, his belt reward :
Not all the laurels reap'd on Blenheim's plains
A fame can give like thy immortal ftrains *.
While Cato diftates in thy awful lines,
Czefar himfelf with fecond luftre mines :
As our rais'd fouls the great diftrefs purfue,
Triumphs and crowns ftill leflen in our view ;
We trace the vidor with difdainful eyes,
And all that made a Cato bleed, deipife.
* The CampVfcTu'.
j 4 3 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
The bold pindariclc, and foft lyrick mufe,
Breath'd all her energy in tuneful Hughes I
Mufick herfelf did on his lines beftow
The polifh'd luftre, and enchanting flow !
His fweet cantatas, and melodious fong,
Shall ever warble on the fkilful tongue !
When nobler themes a loftier ftrain require,
His bofom glow'd with more than mortal fire !
Not Orpheus' felf * could in fublimer lays
Have fung th" omnipotent Creator's praife.
Damafcus* moving fate, difplay'd to view,
From every eye the ready tribute drew :
Th' attentive ear the bright Eudocia f charms,
And with the generous love of virtue warms ;
She feems above the ills fhe greatly bears,
While Phocyas' f woes command our gufhing tears.
Abudah f mines a pattern to mankind 1
In him the hero and the man are join'd !
High on the radiant lift, fee 1 Pope appears,
With all the fire of youth, and ftrength of years ;
Where'er fupreme he points the nervous line,
Nature and art in bright conjunction mine.
How juft the turns 1 how regular the draught !
How fmooth the language ! how refin'd the thought !
Secure beneath the made of early bays,
He dar'd the thunder of great Homer's lays ;
A facred heat inform'd his heaving breaft,
And Homer in his genius ftands confefs'd :
To heights fublime he rais'd the pond'rous lyre,
And our cold ifle grew warm with Grecian fire I
Fain would I now th' excelling bard reveal,
Ajnd point the feat where all the mufes dwell ;
* Sec Mr. Hughes's Ode, entitled, An OJe to the Creator of the World,
ccafioned by the Fragments of Orpheus .
f Chara&eri in bis tragedy entitled The Siege of Damafcus.
Where
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 143
Where Phoebus has his warmeft (miles beftow'd,
And who moft labours with th' infpiring god :
But while I ftrive to fix the ray divine,
And round that head the laurel'd triumph, twine,
Unnumber'd bards diftraft my dazzled fight,
And my firft choice grows faint with rival light.
So the white road that ftreaks the cloudlefs ikies,
When filver Cynthia's temperate beams arife,
Thick fet with ftars, o'er our admiring heads
One undilUnguifh'd ftreamy twilight fpreads;
Pleas'd we behold from heaven's unbounded height,
A thoufand orbs pour forth promifcuous light :
While all around the fpangled luftre jflows,
In vain we ftrive to mark which brighteft glows j
From each the fame enlivening Iplendors fly,
And the diffufive glory charms the eye.
AN E L E <? Y,
WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD.
BY MR. GRAY.
TH E curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd wind flowly o'er the lea.
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darknefs and to me.
Now fades the glimmering landfcape on the fight,
And all the air a folemn ftilnefs holds,
ave where the beetle wheels his droning flight, v
And drowfy tinklings lull the diftant folds ;
Save
H BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower,
The moping owl does to the moon complain
Of fuch, as wand'ring near her fecret bower,
Moleft her ancient folitary reign.
Beneath thofe rugged elms, that yew-tree's (hade,
Where heaves the turf in many a mould'ring heap,
Each in his narrow cell for ever laid,
The rude forefathers of the hamlet deep.
The breezy call of incenfe-breathing morn,
The fwallow twitt'ring from the ftraw-built Ihed,
The cock's flirill clarion, or the echoing horn,
No more mail rouze them from their lowly bed.
For them no more the blazing hearth fhall burn,
Or bufy houfewife ply her evening care;
No children run to lifp their fire's return,
Or climb his knees the envy'd kifs to fliare.
Oft did the harveft to their fickle yield,
Their furrow oft the ftubborn glebe has broke;
How jocund did they drive their team afield 1
How bow'd the woods beneath their fturdy flroke !
Let not ambition mock their ufeful toil,
Their homely joys, and deftiny obfcure ;
Nor grandeur hear, with a difdainful fmile,
The ihort and ample annals of the poor.
The boaft of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Await alike th' inevitable hour :
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Nor
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. I 4S
Nor you, ye proud, impute to thefe the fault,
If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raife,
Where thro' the long-drawn ifle and fretted vault
The pealing anthem fwells the note of praife.
Can ftoried Urn 'or animated buft
Back to it's manfion call the fleeting breath >
Can honour's voice provoke the filent duft,
Or flatt'ry foothe the doll cold ear of death ?
Perhaps in this negle&ed fpot is laid
Some heart once pregnant with celeftial fire ;
Hands, that the rod of empire might have fway'd*
Or wak'd to extafy the living lyre.
But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page
Rich with the fpoils of time did ne'er unrol j
Chill Penury reprefs'd their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the foul.
Full many a gem of pureft ray ferene,
The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear :
Full many a flower is born to blufh unfeen,
And wafte it's fweetnefs on the defart air.
Some village-Hampden, that with dauritlefs bread
The little tyrant of his fields withstood;
Some mute inglorious Milton here may reft,
Some Cromwell guiltlefs of his country's blood*
Th' applaufe of lift'ning feriates to command,
The threats of pain and ruin to defpife ,
To fcatter plenty o'er a fmiling land,
And read their hift'ry in a nation's eyes>
146 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Their lot forbad : nor circumfcrib'd alone
Their growing virtues, but their crimes confin'd j
Forbad to wade through Slaughter to a throne,
And fhut the gates of mercy on mankind,
The ftruggling pangs of confcious truth to hide,
To quench the blufhes of ingenuous mame,
Or heap the Ihrine of luxury and pride
With incenfe kindled at the mufe's flame.
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble ftrife,
Their fober wifhes never learn 'd to ftray;
Along the cool, (equefter'd vale of life,
They kept the noifelefs tenor of their way.
Yet e'en thefe bones from infult to proteft,
Some frail memorial ftill creeled nigh, |
With uncouth rhymes and ftiapelefs fculpture deck'd >
Implores the palling tribute of a figh
Their name, their years, fpelt by th' unletter'd mufe,
The place of fame and elegy fupply :
And many a holy text around Ihe (trews,
That teach the ruftick moralift to die.
For who, to dumb forgetfulnefs a prey,
This pleafing anxious being e'er refign'd ;
Left the warm precin&s of the chearful day,
Nor caft one longing, ling'ring look behind ?
On fome fond breaft the parting foul relies,
Some pious drops the clofing eve requires;
E'en from the tomb the voice of nature cries,
E'en in our afhes live their wonted fires.
For
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
For thee, who mindful of th' unhonour'd dead
Doft in thefe lines their artlefs tale relate j
If chance, by tonely contemplation led,
Some kindred fpirit (hall enquire thy fate,
Haply fome hoary-headed fwain may fay,
' Oft have we feen him, at the peep of dawn,
' Brufhing with hafty fteps the dews away,
' To meet the fun upon the upland lawn.
* There, at the foot of yonder nodding beech,
' That wreathes it's old fantaftick roots fo high,
' His liftlefs length at noon-tide would he ftretch,
' And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
' Hard by yon wood, now fmiling as in fcorn,
' Mutt'ring his wayward fancies he would rove :
Now drooping, woeful, wan, like one forlorn,
* Or craz'd with care, or crofs'd in hopelefs love.
One morn I mifs'd him on the cuftom'd hill,
' Along the heath, and near his fay'rite tree :
* Another came ; nor yet befide the rill,
' Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he.
' The next, with dirges due, in fad array,
' Slow through the church-way path we faw him borne
* Approach, and read (for thou can'ft read) the lay,
Grav'd on the ftone beneath yon aged thorn. '
THE EPITAPH.
T.T ERE refts his head upon the lap of earth,
A A youth to fortune and to fame unknown ;
Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth,
And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.
T 3 Larg
148 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Large was his bounty, and his foul fmcere,
Heav'n did a recompence as largely fend :
He. gave to mis'ry all he had, a tear,
He gain'd from He.av'n ('twas all he wifh'd) a friend.
No farther feek his merits to difclofe.,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode,
(There they alike in trembling hope repofe.)
The bofom of his Father and his God.
A PASTORAL BALLAD.
IN FOUR PARTS.
BY W. SHENSTONE, E S Q^
Arbufta humilefque myricje. VIKG;
I. ABSENCE.
YE fhepherds fo chearful and gay,
Whofe flocks never carelefsly roam,
Should Corydon's happen to ftray,
Oh, call the poor wanderers home.
Allow me to mufe and to figh,
Nor talk of the change that ye find j
None once was fb watchful as I :
I have left my dear Phyllis behind.
Now I know what it is to have flrove
With the torture of doubt and defire ;
What it is, to admire and to love,
And to leave her we love and admire,
Ah,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Ah, lead forth my flock in the morn,
And the damps of each evening repel :
Alas ! I am faint and forlorn ;
I have bade my dear Phyllis farewel.
Since Phyllis vouchfaf 'd me a look,
I never once dream'd of my vine ;
May I lofe both my pipe and my crook,
If I knew of a kid that was mine!
I priz'd every hour that went by,
Beyond all that had pleas'd me before ;
But now they are paft, and I figh,
And I grieve that I priz'd them no more
But why do I languish in vain !
Why wander thus penfively here?
Oh ! why did I come from the plain,
Where I fed on the fmiles of my dear ?
They tell me, my favourite maid,
The pride of that valley, is flown ;
Alas ! where with her I have ftray'd,
I could wander with pleafure alone.
When forc'd the fair nymph to forego,
What anguifh I felt at my heart 1
Yet I thought but it might not be fo
'Twas with pain that me faw me depart.
She gaz'd, as I flowly withdrew ;
My path I could hardly difcern ;
So fweetly me bade me adieu,
I thought that ftie bade me return.
The pilgrim that journies all day
To vifit fome far diftant fhrine,
Jf he bear but a relique away,
, Is happy, nor heard to repine.
BEAUTIES OF POETRTv
Thus, widely remov'd from the fair,
Where my vows, my devotion, I owe,
Soft hope is the relique I bear,
And my folace wherever I go.
II. HOP E.
TIT Y banks they are furnim'd with bees,
^ Whofe murmur invites one to fleep j
My grottoes are fliaded with trees,
And my hills are white-over with fheep.
I feldom have met with a lofs,
*Such health do my fountains beftow ;
My fountains all border'd with mofs,
Where the hare-bells and violets grow.
Not a pine in my grove is there feen,
But with tendrils of woodbine is bound r
Not a beech's more beautiful green,
But a fweet-briar entwines it around.
Not my fields, in the prime of the year,
More charms than my cattle unfold :
Not a brook that is limped and clear,
But it glitters with fifhes of gold.
One would think me might like to retire
To the bower I have labour'd to rear ;
Not a fhrub that I heard her admire,
But I hafted and planted it there.
Oh, how fudden the jeflamine ftrove
With the lilac to render it gay !
Already it calls for my love,
To prune the wild branches away.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 151
From the plains, from the woodlands and groves,
What {trains of wild melody flow !
How the nightingales warble their loves
From thickets of rofes that blow !
And when her bright form mall appear,
Each bird mail harmonioufly join
In a concert fo foft and fo clear,
As me may not be fond to refign.
I have found out a gift for my fair ;
I have found where the wood-pigeons breed :
But let me that plunder forbear ;
She will fay, 'twas a barbarous deed.
For he ne'er could be true, me averr'd,
Who could rob a poor bird of it's young :
And I lov'd her the more, when I heard
Such tendernefs fall from her tongue.
I have heard her with fweetnefs unfold,
How that pity was due to a dove ;
That it ever attended the bold ;
And me call'd it the filter of love.
But her words fuch a pleafure convey,
So much I her accents adore,
Let her fpeak, and whatever me fay,
Methinks I mould love her the more.
Can a bofom fo gentle remain
Unmov'd, when her Corydon fighs !
Will a nymph that is fond of the plain,
Thefe plains and this valley defpife i
Dear regions of filence and made !
Soft fcenes of contentment and eafe I
Where I could have pleafingly ftray'd.
If aught in her abfonce could pleafe.
But
I 5 2 BEAUTIES OF POETRVi"
But where does my Phyllida ftray ?
And where are her grots and her bowers ?
Are the groves and the rallies as gay,
And the (hepherds as gentle as ours ?
The groves may perhaps be as fair,
And the face of the rallies as fine ;
The fwains may in manners compare,
But their love is not equal to mineT
III. SOLICITUDE.
TX7 H Y will you my pafllon reprove ?
Why term it a folly to grieve ?
Ere I mew you the charms of my love,
She is fairer than you can believe.
With her mien (he enamours the brave ;
With her wit (he engages the free ;
With her modefty pieafes the grave ;
She is every way pleafmg to me.
To fee, as my fair-one goes by,
Some hermit peep out of his cell,
How he thinks on his youth with a figh !
How fondly he wifhes her well !
On him (he may fmile if fhe pleafe,
'Twill warm the cold bofom of age ;
But ceafe, gentle Phyllida, ceafe !
Such foftnefs would ruin the fage.
you that have been of her train,
Come and join in my amorous lays ;
I could lay down my life for the fwain
That will fmg but a fong in her prai'e.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 153
When he fmgs, may the nymphs of the town
Come trooping, and liften the while ;
Nay, on him let not PhylHda frown ;
k But I cannot allow her to fmile.
For when Paridel tries in the dance
Any favour with Phyllis to find,
O how, with one triviafg'iance,
Might /he ruin the peace of my mind !
In ringlets he drefTes his hair,
And his crook is beftudded around ;
And his pipe O may Phyllis beware
Of a magick there is in the found !
*Tis his with mock paflion to glow ;
'Tis his in fmooth tales to unfold,
' How her face is as bright as the fnow,
' And her bofom, be fure, is as cold :
' How the nightingales labour the ftrain,
' With the notes of his charmer to vie ;
( How they vary their accents in vain,
' Repine at her triumphs, and die.'
To the grove or the garden he ftrays,
And pillages every fweet ;
Then fuiting the wreathe to his lays,
He throws it at Phyllis 's feet.
' O Phyllis,' he whifpers, more fair,
' More fweet than the jefikmine's flower !
What are pinks, in a morn, to compare?
' What is eglantine after a mower ?
c Then the lily no longer is white ;
' Then the rofe is depriv'd of it's bloom j
c Then the violets die with defpite,
' And the woodbines give up their perfume.'
U Thus
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Thus glide the foft numbers along,
And he fancies no fhepherd his peer ;
Yet I never mould envy the fong,
Were not Phyllis to lend it an ear.
Let his crook be with hyacinths bound,
So Phyllis the trophy defpife ;
Let his forehead with laurels be crown'd,
So they (hine not in Phyllis's eyes.
The language that flows from the heart
Is a ftranger to Paridel's tongue ;
Yet may me beware of his art,
Or fure I muft envy the fong.
IV. DISAPPOINTMENT.
& fiiepherds, give ear to my lay,
And take no more heed of my iheep :
They have nothing to do but to flray j
I have nothing to do, but to weep.
Yet do not my folly reprove ;
She was fair and my paffion begun ;
She fmil'd and I .could not but love ;
She is faithlefs and I am undone.
Perhaps I was void of all thought ;
Perhaps it was plain to forefee,
That a nymph ib compleat would be fought
By a fwain more engaging than me.
Ah ! love every hope can infpire ;
It banifhes wifdom the while ;
And the lip of the nymph we admire.
Seems for ever adorn'd with a fmilf,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
She is faithlefs, and I am undone I
Ye that witnefs the woes I endure,
Let reafon inftruft you to fhun
What it cannot inftruft you to cure.
Beware how ye loiter in vain,
Amid nymphs of an higher degree :
It is not for me to explain,
How fair and how fickle they be.
Alas ! from the day that we met,
What hope of an end to my woes ;
When I cannot endure to forget
The glance that undid my repofe !
Yet time may diminifh the pain :
The flower, and the fhrub, and the tree,
Which I rear'd for her pleafure in vain,
In time may have comfort for me.
The fweets of a dew-fprinkled rofe,
The found of a murmuring ftream,
The peace which from folitude flows,
Henceforth mall be Corydon's theme.
High tranfports are fhewn to the fight,
But we are not to find them our own ;
Fate never beftow'd fuch delight,
As I with my Phyllis had known !
ye woods, fpread your branches apace ;
To your deepeft recefles I fly ;
1 would hide with the beafts of the chace ;
I would vanifh from every eye.
Yet my reed mail refound thro' the grove
With the fame fad complaint it begun ;
How me fmil'd, and I could not but love ;
Was faithlefs, and I am undone !
U z THE
156 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
THE PARTRIDGES.
AN ELEGY.
WRITTEN ON THE LAST OF AUGUST.
BY THE REV. MR. PRATT.
HA R D by yon copfe that fldrts the flow'ry vale,
As late I walk'd to tafte the ev'ning breeze,
A plaintive murmur mingled in the gale,
And notes of forrow echo'd thro' the trees.
Touch'd by the penfive found, I nearer drew ;
But my rude ftep increas'd the caufe of pain !
Soon o'er my head the whirring partridge flew,
Alarm'd ; and with her flew an infant train.
But mort th' excurfion ; for, unus'd to play,
Feebly the unfledg'd wings th' efiay could make :
The parent, flielter'd by the clofing day,
Lodg'd her lov'd covey in a neighb'ring brake.
Her cradling pinions there me amply fpread,
And hufh'd th' affrighted family to reft j
But ftill the late alarm fuggefted dread,
And clofer to their feath'ry friend they prefs'd.
She, wretched parent ! doom'd to various woe,
Felt all a mother's hope, a mother's care ;
With grief forefew the dawn's impending blow,
And, to avert it, thus preferr'd her pray'r.
O Thou ! who e'en the fparrow doft befriend ;
' Whofe providence protedls the harmlefs wren ;
4 Thou, God of birds! thefe innocents defend,
From the vile fport of unrelenting men.
For
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 157
For foon as dawn fhall dapple yonder flcics,
The flaught'ring gunner, with the tube of fate,
* While the dire dog the faithlefs ftubble tries,
Shall perfecute our tribe with annual hate.
' O may the fun, unfann'd by cooling gale,
' Parch with unufual heat th' undewy ground ;
So fhall the pointer's wonted cunning fail,
' So fhall the fportfman leave my babes unfound.
* Then fhall I fearlefs guide them to the mead ;
Then fhall I fee with joy their plumage grow ;
Then fhall I fee (fond thought !) their future breed,
And every tranfport of a parent know!
But if fome viftim muft endure the dart,
' And fate marks out that vi&im from my rate,
' Strike, ftrike the leaden vengeance thro' this heart,
' Spare, fpare my babes ; and I the death embrace !*
THE SQUIRE AND THE PARSON.
i
AN ECLOGUE.
BY SOAME JENYNS,
BY his hall chimney, where in rufty grate
Green faggots wept their own untimely fate,
In elbow-chair the penfive fquire reclin'd,
Revolving debts and taxes in his mind:
A pipe juft fill'd, upon a table near
Lay by the London Evening flain'd with beer,
With half a bible, on whofe remnants torn
Each parifh round was annually forfworn.
The gate now claps, as evening juft grew dark,
Tray flarts, and with a growl prepares to bark ;
But
, 5 S BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
But foon difcerning, with fagacious nofe,
The well-known favour of the parfon's toes,
Lays down his head, and finks in foft repofe.
The doftor entering, to the tankard ran,
Takes a good hearty pull, and thus began :
PARSON.
Why fit'ft thou, thus forlorn and dull, my friend,
Now war's rapacious reign is at an end ?
Hark, how the diftant bells infpire delight !
See, bonfires fpangle o'er the veil of night !
s o^u IRE.
What's peace, alas ! in foreign parts, to me ?
At home, nor peace nor plenty can I fee ;
Joylefs, I hear drums, bells, and fiddles found,
'Tis all the fame four millings in the pound.
My wheels, tho' old, are clogg'd with a new tax;
My oaks, tho' young, muft groan beneath the axe :
My barns are half unthatch'd, untiled my houfe,
Loft by this fatal ficknefs all my cows :
See, there's the bill my late damn'd law-fuit coft !
Long as the land contended for and loft :
E'en Ormorul's Head. I cjfn frequent no more,
So fhort my pocket is, fo long the fcore ;
At mops all round I owe for fifty things
This comes of fetching Hanoverian kings.
PARSON.
I muft confefs the times are bad, indeed !
No wonder when we fcarce believe our creed ;
When purblind Reafon's deem'd the fureft guide,
And heaven-born Faith at her tribunal try'd :
When all church-power is thought to make men flaves,
Saints, martyrs,, fathers, all call'd fools and knaves,
sqjr i R E.
Come, preach no. more, but drink and hold your tongue.
I'm for the church : but tHink the parfons wrong.
PAR-
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 159
PARSON.
See there ! Free-thinking now fo rank is grown,
It fpreads infe&ion thro' each country town ;
Deiftick feoffs fly round at rural boards,
Squires, and their tenants too, prophane as lords,
Vent impious jokes on every facrcd thing
Come, drink !
PARSON.
Here's to you, then ; to church and king.
sqju i R E.
Here's church and king ; I hate the glafs mould ftand ;
Tho' one takes tithes, and t'other taxes land.
PARSON.
Heaven with new plagues will fcourge this finful nation,
Unlefs we foon repeal the toleration,
And to the church reftore the convocation.
s qjir IRE.
Plagues we mould feel fufficient, on my word,
Starv'd by two houfes, prieft-rid by a third.
For better days we lately had a chance,
Had not the honeft Plaids been trick'd by France.
PAR SON.
Is not moft gracious George our faith's defender?
You love the church, yet wiih for the Pretender !
8 QJ7 IRE.
Preferment, I fuppofe, is what you mean;
Turn Whig, and you, perhaps, may be a dean :
But you muft firft learn how to treat your betters.
What's here ? fure fome ftrange news; a boy with letters !
O ho ! -here's one, I fee, from Parfon Sly :
* My reverend neighbour Squab being like to die,
* I hope, if Heaven mould pleafe to take him hence,
' To aflc the living would be no offence.'
PARSON.
Have you not fwore, that I mould Squab fucceed ?
Think how for this I taught your fons to read ;
How
160 BEAUTIES Of POETRY.
How oft difcover'd pufs on new-plough'd land;
How oft fupported you with friendly hand,
When I could fcarcely go, nor could your worlhip ftand
s QJ; i R E .
'Twas yours, had you been honeft, wife, or civil ;
Now e'en go court the bifliops or the devil.
PARSON.
If I meant any thing, now let me die ;
I'm blunt, and cannot fawn and cant, not I,
Like that old prefbyterian rafcal Sly.
I am, you know, a right true-hearted Tory,
Love a good glafs, a merry fong, or ftory.
s QJU IRE.
Thou art an honefl dog, that's truth, indeed ;
Talk no more nonfenfe, then, about the creed.
I can't, I think, deny thy firft requeft :
'Tis thine ; but firft, a bumper to the befl.
PARSON.
Molt noble fquire, more generous than your wine,
How pleafing's the condition you aflign !
Give me the fparkling, glafs, and here, d'ye fee,
With joy I drink it on my bended knee.
Great Queen f ! who governeft this earthly ball,
And mak'ft both kings, and kingdoms, rife and fall {
Whofe wonderous power in fecret all things rules,
Makes fools of mighty peers, and peers of fools ;
Difpenfes mitres, coronets, and ftars ;
Involves far diftant realms in bloody wars,
Then bids the fnaky trefles ceafe to hifs,
And gives them peace again nay, giv'ft us this ;
Whofe health does health to all mankind impart :
Here's to thy much-lov'd health !
s Qju IRE, rubbing his hands.
-* With all my heart.
\ Madam de Pompadour.
.1
.BEAUTIES OF POETRY, 161
THE POOR MAN'S PLAYER.
WRITTEN IN MDCCLXVI.
ADDRESSED TO THE EARL OF CHATHAM.
BY DR. ROBERTS.
AMIDST the more important toils of ftate,
The counfels labouring in thy patriot foul,
Tho' Europe from thy voice expeft her fate,
And thy keen glance extend from pole to pole :
Chatham ! nurs'd in ancient Virtue's lore,
To thefe fad ftrains incline a favouring ear ;
Think on the God, whom thou and I adore,
Nor turn unpitying from the poor man's prayer \ 4
Ah, me ! how blefs'd was once a peafant's life !
No lawlefs paflkm fwell'd my even breaft :
Far from the ftormy waves of civil ftrife,
Sound were my Cumbers, and my heart at reft.
1 ne'er for guilty, painful pleafures rov'd,
But taught by Nature, and by choice, to wed>
From all the hamlet cull'd whom beft I lov'd,
With her I ftaid my heart, with her my bed.
To gild her worth, I aflt'd no wealthy power,
My toil could feed her, and my arm defend ;
In youth, or age, in pain, or pleafure's hour,
The fame fond hufband, father, brother, friend,
X And
162 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
And me, the faithful partner of my care,
When ruddy evening ftreak'd the weftern fky,
Look'd tow'rds the uplands, if her mate was there,
Or thro' the beech-wood caft an anxious eye :
Then, careful matron, heap'd the maple board
With favoury herbs, and pick'd the nicer part
From fuch plain food as Nature could afford,
Ere fimple Nature was debauch'd by Art;
While I, contented with my homely chear,
Saw round my knees my prattling children play j
And oft, with pleas'd attention, fat to hear
The little hifbry of their idle day.
But ah ! how chang'd the fcene ! On the cold ftones
Where wont at night to blaze the chearful fire,
Pale Famine fits, and counts her naked bones,
Still fighs for food, flill pines with vain defire.
My faithful wife, with ever-dreaming eyes.
Hangs on my bofom her dejected head ;
My helplefs infants raife their feeble cries,
And from their father claim thir daily bread*
Dear tender pledges of my honeft love,
On that bare bed behold your brother lie :
Three tedious days with pinching want he {trove,
The fourth, I faw the helplefs cherub die.
Nor long mall ye remain. With vifage four
Our tyrant lord commands us from our home ;
And arm'd with cruel Law's coercive power,
Bids me and mine o'er barren mountains roam.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. ,63
Yet never, Chatham, have I pafs'd a day
In riot's orgies, or in idle eafe ;
Ne'er have I facrific'd to fport and play,
Qr wifh'd a pamper'd appetite to pleafe.
Hard was my fate, and conftant was my toil;
Still >?ith the morning's orient light I rofe,
fell'd the flout oak, or rais'd the lofty pile,
Parch'd in the fun, in dark December froze.
Js it that Nature with a niggard hand
Witholds her gifts from thefe onee-favour'd plains?
JIas God, in vengeance to a guilty land,
Sent dearth and famine to her labouring fwains?
Ah, no! yon hill, where daily fweats my brow,
A thoufand flocks^ a thoufand herds adorn ;
Von field, where late I drove the painful plough,
Feels all her acres crown'd with wavy corn.
But what avails that o'er the furrow'd foil
In autumn's heat the yellow harvefts rife,
Jf artificial want elude my toil,
Untafted plenty wound my craving eyes, ?
What profits, that at diftance I behold
My wealthy neighbour's fragrant fmpke afreixd,
If ftill the griping cormorants withold
The fruits which rain and genial feafons fend ?
If thofe fell vipers of the publick weal
Yet unrelenting on our bowels prey j
If ftill the curfe of penury we feel,
And in. the midll of plenty pine away ?
X 2
,54 BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
In every port the veflel rides fee u re,
That wafts our harveft to a foreign fhore :
While we the pangs of prefling want endure,
The fons of ftrangers riot on our tore.
O generous Chatham ! ftop thofe fatal fails,
Once more with out-ftretch'd arm thy Britons fave ;
Th* unheeding crew but wait for favouring gales,
O ftop them, ere they ftem Italia's wave !
From thee alone I hope for inftant aid,
'Tis thou alone canft fave my children's breath ;
O deem not little of our cruel meed !
Q hafle to help us ! for delay is death.
So may nor fpleen nor envy blaft thy name,
Nor voice prophane thy patriot afts deride ;
Still may'ft thou ftand the fir ft in hone ft fame,
Unftung by folly, vanity, or pride !
So may thy languid limbs with firength be brac'd.
And glowing health fupport thy a&ive foul ;
With fair renown thy publick virtue grac'd,
Far as thou bad'ft Britannia's thunder roll.
Then ' Joy to thee, and to thy children peace,'
The grateful hind fliall drink from Plenty's horn :
And while they fhare the cultur'd land's increafe,
The poor Hull blefs the day when Pitt was born !
EPISTLE
BEATJTIES OF POETRY. X 6;
EPISTLE.
IORO WILLIAM RUSSEt, TO LORD WILLIAM CAVENDISH *.
BY GEORGE CANNING, E S Q^
LO S T to the world, to-morrow doom'd to die,
Still for my country's weal my heart beats high.
Tho' rattling chains ring peals of horror round,
While night's black fliades augment the favage found.,
'Midft bolts and bars the active foul is free,
And flies, unfetter'd, Cavendifh, to thee !
Thou dear companion of my better days,
When hand in hand we trod the paths of praife ;
When, leagu'd with patriots, we maintain'd the caufe
Of true religion, liberty, and laws ;
Difdaining down the golden ftream to glide,
But bravely ftemm'd Corruption's rapid tide ;
Think not I come to bid thy tears to flow,
Or melt thy generous foul with tales of woe !
No! view me firm, unfhaken, undifmay'd,
As when the welcome mandate I ebey'd.
Heavens ! with what pride that moment I recal !
Who would no* wifh, fo honour'd, thus to fall !
When England's Genius, hovering o'er, infpir'd
Her chofen fons, with love of Freedom fir'd,
Spite of an abjeft, fervile, penfion'd train,
Minions of power, and worfhippers of gain,
* This Epiflle is fuppofed to have been written by Lord RufTcl, on Friday
Sight, July zo, 1683, in Newgate ; that prifon having been the place of his
fonfinement fwr foroe days immediately preceding his execution*
To
i66 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
To fave from bigotry it's deftin'd prey,
And fhield three nations from tyrannick fway.
*Twas then my Cavendifh caught the glorious flame,
The happy omen of his future fame ;
Adorn'd by Nature, perfected by Art,
The cleareil head, and warmeft, nobleft Heart,
His words, deep finking in each captiv'd ear,
Had power to make e'en Liberty more dear.
While I, unflcill'd in oratory's lore,
Whofe tongue ne'er fpeaks but when the- heart runs o'er.
In plain blunt phrafe my honeft thoughts exprefs'd,
Warm from the heart, and to the heart addrefs'd.
Juftice prevail'd ; yes, Juftice, let me fay,
Well pois'd her fcales on that aufpicious day.
The watchful fhepherd fpies the wolf afar.
Nor trufts his flock to try th' unequal war :
What tho* the favage crouch in humble guife,
And check the fire that flames from his eyes,
Should once his barbarous fangs the fold invade,
Vain were their cries, too late the fhepherd/s aid ;
Thirftitig for blood, he knows not how to fpare,
His jaws diftend, his fiery eye-balls glare.
While ghaftly Defolation, ftalking round,
With mangled limbs beftrews the purple ground,
Now, memory, fail ! nor let my mind revolve.
How England's peers annull'd the juft refolve^
Againfl her bofom aim'd a deadly blow,
And laid at once her great Palladium low I
Degenerate nobles ! Yes ; by Heaven I fwear,
Had Bedford's felf appear'd delinquent there,
And join'd, forgetful of his country's claims,
To thwart th' exclufion of apoftate James,
All filial ties had then been left at large,
And I myfelf the firft to urge the charge!
Such the fix'd fentiments that rule my foul,
Time canrjot change, nor tyranny controut j
While
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 167
While free, they hung upon my penfive brow,
Then my chief care, my pride and glory now ;
Foil'd, I fubmit, nor think the meafure hard,
For confcious virtue is it's own reward.
Vain then is force, and vain each fubtle art,
To wring retraftion from my tortur'd heart ;
There lie, in marks indelible engrav'd,
The means whereby my country muft be fav'd :
Are to thine eyes thofe characters unknown ?
To read my inmoft heart, confult thine own ;
There wilt thou find this facred truth reveal'd,
Which mail to-morrow with my blood be feal'd,
' Seek not infirm expedients to explore,
'But banafh James, or England is no more.'
Friendmip her tender offices may fpare,
Nor ftrive to move the unforgiving pair,
Hopelefs the tyrant's mercy-feat to climb
Zeal for my country's freedom, is my crime !
Ere that meets pardon, lambs with wolves mail range,
Charles be a faint, and James his nature change.
Prefs'd by my friends, and Rachael's fond defires *,
(Who can deny what weeping love requires !)
Frailty prevail'd, and for a moment quell'd
Th* indignant pride that in my bofom fwell'd ;
I fu'd the weak attempt I blufh to own
I fu'd for mercy, proftrate at the throne.
O ! blot the foible out, my noble friend !
With human firmnefs, human feelings blend !
When love's endearments fofteft moments feize,
And love's dear pledges hang upon the knees,
When Nature's ftrongeft ties the foul entral,
(Thou canft conceive, for thou haft felt them all !)
Let him refift their prevalence w-ho can ;
He muft, indeed, be more or lefs than man !
* Lady Rschael Ruflel, his w!fe. K Sec h<a Ltf:er..
Yet
i63 BEAUTIES OF POETRY*
Yet let me yield my Rachael honour due,
The tendereil wife, the nobleft heroine too I
Anxious to fave her hufband's honeft name,
Dear was his life, but dearer ftill his fame 1
When fuppliant prayers no pardon could obtain,
And, wond'rous ftrange ! e'en Bedford's gold prov'd vain.
The informer's part her generous foul abhorr'd,
Tho' life preferv'd had been the fure reward ;
Let impious Efcrick aft fuch treacherous fcenes,
And fhrink from death by fuch opprobrious means.
O my lov'd Rachael ! all-accomplim'd fair !
Source of my joy, and foother of my care !
Whofe heavenly virtues, and unfading charms,
Have blefs'd thro' happy years my peaceful arms 1
Parting with thee -into my cup was thrown ;
It's harfheft dregs eife had not forc'd a groan !
But all is o'er thele eyes have gaz'd their laft
And now the bitternefs of death is part.
Burnet and Tillotfon, with pious care,
My fleeting foul for heavenly blifs prepare ;
Wide to my view the glorious realms difplay,
Pregnant with joy, and bright with endlefs day.
Charm'd, as of old when Ifrael's prophet fung,
Whofe words diftill'd like manna from his tongue,
While the great-bard fublimeft truths explor'd,
Each raviih'd hearer wonder'd and ador'd ;
So rapt, fo charm'd, my foul begins to rife,
Spurns the bafe earth, and feems to reach the flues !
But when, defending from the facred theme,
Of boundlefs power, and excellence fupreme,
They would, for man, and his precarious throne,
Exa& obedience, due to Heaven alone,
Forbid refiftance to his worft commands,
And place God's thunderbolts. in mortal hands 5
The vifion finks to life's contracted fpan,
And rifing paffion fpeaks me ftill a man.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 169
What ! ihall a tyrant trample on the laws,
And flop the fourde whence all his power he draws !
His country's rights to foreign foes betray,
Lavifh her wealth, yet ftipulate for pay !
To mameful falfhoods venal flaves fuborn,
And dare to laugh the virtuous man to fcorn !
Deride religion, juftice, honour, fame,
And hardly know of honefly the name !
In luxury's lap lie fcreen'd from cares and pains,
And only toil to forge his fubje&s chains !
And {hall he hope the publick voice to drown,
The voice which gave, and can refume his crown !
When Confcience bares her horrors, and the dread
Of fudden vengeance, buriling o'er his head,
Wrings his black foul ; when injur'd nations groan,
And cries of millions make his tottering throne ;
Shall flattering churchmen foothe his guilty ears,
With tortur'd texts, to calm his growing fears ;
Exalt his power above th' etherial climes,
And call down Heaven to fandify his crimes !
O impious doftrine ! Servile priefts away !
Your prince you poifon, and your God betray.
Haplefs the monarch, who, in evil hour,
Drinks from your cup the draught of lawlefs power !
The magick potion boils within his veins.
And locks each fenfe in adamantine chains ;
Reafon revolts, infatiate third enfues,
The wild delirium each frefh draught renews ;
In vain his people urge him to refrain,
His faithful fervants fupplicate in vain ;
He quaffs at length, impatient of controul.
The bitter dregs that lurk within the bowl.
Zeal your pretence, but wealth and power your aims,
You e'en could make a Solomon of James.
Behold the pedant, thron'd in aukwaxd itate,
Abforb'd in pride, ridiculoufly great j
Y Hi.
1 70 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
His courtiers feem to tremble at his nod,
His prelates call his voice, the voice of God ;
Weaknefs and vanity with them combine,
And James believes his majefty divine.
Prefumptuous wretch ! Almighty Power to (can,
While every action proves him lefs than man \
By your delufions to the fcaffbld led,
Martyr'd by you, a royal Charles has bled.
Teach, then, ye fycophants ! O teach his fon,
The gloomy paths of tyranny to fhun !
Teach him to prize religion's facred claim,
Teach him how virtue leads to honeit fame j
How freedom's wreathe a monarch's brows adorns,
Nor, bafely fawning, plant his couch with thorns.
Point to his view his people's love alone,
The folid bafis of his ftedfaft throne ;
Chofen by them their deareft rights to guard,
The bad to piinim, and the good reward,
Clement and juft let him the fceptre fway,
And willing fubjedls mail with pride obey,
Shall vie to execute his high commands,
His throne their hearts, his fword and fhield their hands.
Happy the prince ! thrice firmly fix'd his crown !
Who builds on publkk good his chafte renown ;
Studious to blefs, who knows no fecond aim,
His people's intereft, and his own, the fame ;
The eafe of millions refts upon his cares,
And thus Heav'n's high prerogative he fhares.
Wide from the throne the blefs'd contagion fpreads,
O'er all the land it's gladdening influence fheds ;
Faction's difcordant founds are heard no more,
And foul Corruption flies th' indignant Ihore.
His minillers with joy their courles run,
And borrow luftre from the royal fun.
But mould fome upitart, train'd in Slavery's fehbbl,
Learn'd in the maxims of defpotick rule,
Full
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. , 7 ,.
Full fraught with forms, and grave pedantick pride,
(Myfterious cloak, the minds defe&s to hide !)
Sordid in fmall things, prodigal in great,
Saving for minions, fquandering for the ftate
Should fuch a mifcreant, born for England's bane,
Obfcure the glories of a profperous reign ;
Gain, by the femblance of each praifeful art,
A pious prince's unfufpecling heart ;
Envious of worth, and talents not his own,
Chafe all experienc'd merit from the throne ;
To guide the helm a motley crew compofe,
Servile to him, the king's and country's foes ;
Meanly defccnd each paultry place to fill,
With tools of power, and panders to his will ;
Brandiftiing high the fcorpion fcourge o'er all,
Except fuch flaves as bow the knee to Baal
Should Albion's fate decree the baneful hour,
Short be the date of his deteited power !
Soon may his fovereign break his iron rods,
And hear his people for their voice is God's !
Ceafe then your wiles, ye fawning courtiers, ceafe !
Suffer your rulers to repofe in peace :
By reafon led, give proper names to things,
God made them men, the people made them kings ;
To all their adls but legal powers belong,
Thus England's monarch never can do wrong ;
Of right divine let foolifli Filmer dream,
The publick welfare is the law fupreme.
Lives there a wretch, whofe bafe degen'rate foul
Can crouch beneath a tyrant's ftern controul ?
Cringe to his nod, ignobly kifs the hand
In galling chains that binds his native land ?
Purchas'd by gold, or aw'd by flavifli fear,
Abandon all his anceftors held dear ?
Tamely behold that fruit of glorious toil,
England's Great Charter, made ,1 ruffian's fpoil ;
Y 2 Hear,
2 EEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Hear, unconccrn'd, his injur'd country groan,
Nor ftretch an arm to hurl him from the throne ?
Let fuch to Freedom forfeit all their claims,
And Charles's minions be the flaves of James !
But foft awhile Now, Cavendifh, attend
The warm effufions of thy dying friend ;
Fearlefs who dares his inmoft thoughts reveal,
When thus to Heaven he makes his laft appeal.
' All-gracious God, whofe goodnefs knows no bounds !
' Whofe power the ample univerfe furrounds !
' In whofe great balance, infinitely juft,
* Kings are but men, and men are only duft ;
' At thy tribunal, low thy fuppliant falls,
* And here condemn'd/on thee for mercy calls !
' Thou hear'ft not, Lord, an hypocrite complain !
' And fure with thee hypocrify were vain ;
' To thy all-piercing eye the heart lies bare,
' Thou know'ft my fins, and, knowing, ftill canft fpare !
' Though partial power it's minifters may awe,
* And murder here by fpecious forms of law ;
' The axe, which executes the harm decree,
' But wounds the flefh, to fet the fpirit free !
' Well may the man a tyrant's frown defpife,
' Who, fpurning earth, to heaven for refuge flies ;
' And on thy mercy, when his foes prevail,
' Builds his firm truft that rock can never fail !
' Hear then, Jehovah ! hear thy fervant's prayer !
' Be England's welfare thy peculiar care !
' Defend her laws, her worfhip, chafle and pure,
' And guard her rights while heaven and earth endure t
' O let not ever fell tyrannick fway
* His blood-ftain'd ftandard on her mores difplay !
< Nor fiery zeal ufurp thy holy name,
' Blinded with blood, and wrapt in rolls cf flame !
' In vain let Slavery make her threat'ning chain,
' And Perfecution wave her torch m vain !
c Arife,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 173
1 Arife, O Lord ! and hear thy people's call !
' Nor for one man let three great kingdoms fall !
c O that my blood may glut the barbarous rage
' Of Freedom's foes, and England's ills affuage !
c Grant but that prayer, I afk for no repeal,
* A willing vi&im for my country's weal !
' With rapt'rous joy the crimfbn ftream (hall flow,
' And my heart leap to meet the friendly blow 1
* But fhould the fiend, tho' drench'd with human gore,
' Dire Bigotry, infatiate, thirft for more ;
' And, arm'd from Rome, feek this devoted land ;
* Death in her eye, and bondage in her hand :
r Blaft her fell purpofe ! blaft her foul defires !
' Break fhort her f\vor3, and quench her horrid fires!
Raife up fome champion, zealous to maintain
The facred compact by which monarchs reign !
Wife to forefee all danger from afar,
* And brave to meet the thunders of the war !
' Let pure religion, not to forms confin'd,
* And love of freedom, fill his generous mind !
' Warm let his breaft with fparks celeftial glow,
* Benign to man, the tyrant's deadly foe !
c While finking nations reft upon his arm,
* Do thou the great Deliverer mield from harm !
' Infpire his councils ! aid his righteous fword !
Till Albion rings with Liberty reilor'd !
' Thence let her years in bright fuccefiion run !
* And Freedom reign coeval with the fuu !'
'Tis done, my Cavendifh ; Heav'n has heard my prayV:
So fpeaks my heart, for all is rapture there.
To Belgia's coaft advert thy ravifh'd eyes,
That happy coaft whence all our hopes arife !
Behold the Prince, perhaps thy future king !
From whofe green years matured bleffings fpring ;
Whofe youthful arm, when all-o'erwhelming power
Ruthlefs march'd forth his country to devour,
With
I 7 4 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
With firm-brac'd nerve repell'd the brutal force,
And ftopp'd th'unweildy giant in his courfe.
Great William, hail ! who fceptres could defpife,
And fpurn a crown with tinretorted eyes !
O when will princes learn to copy thee,
And leave mankind, as Heaven ordain'd them, free !
Hafle, mighty chief! our injur'd rights reftore !
Quick fpread thy fails for Albion's longing more !
Hafte, mighty chief! ere millions groan enflav'd ;
And add three realms to one already fav'd !
While Freedom lives, thy memory mail be dear,
And reap frefh honours each returning year ;
Nations preferv'd (hall yield immortal fame,
And endlefs ages blels thy glorious name !
Then mail my Cavendifh, foremoft in the field,
By juftice arm'd, his fword confpicuous wield ;
While willing legions croud around his car,
And rum impetuous to the righteous war.
On that great day be every chance defy'd,
And think thy Ruflel combats by thy fide ;
Nor, crown'd with victory, ceafe thy generous toil,
Till firmeft peace fecure this happy ifle.
Ne'er let thine honeft, open heart, believe
Profeffions fpecious, forg'd but to deceive ;
Fear may extort them, when refources fail,
But O ! rejeft the bafelefs, flattering tale.
Think not that promifes or oaths can bind,
With folemn ties, a Rome-devoted mind ;
Which yields to all the holy juggler faith,
And deep imbibes the bloody, damning faith.
What tho* the bigot raife to heaven his eyes,
And call th' Almighty witnefs from the ikies !
Soon as the wiilv'd occafion he explores,
To plant the Roman crofs on England's mores,
All, all will vanilh, while his priefts applaud,
And faint the perjurer for the pious fraud !
Far
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. ' 175
Far let him fly thefe freedom-breathing climes,
And feek proud Rome, the fofterer of his crimes ;
There let him ftrive to mount the Papal chair,
And fcatter empty thunders in the air,
Grimly prefide in fuperftition's fchool,
And curfe thofe kingdoms he could never rule.
Here let me paufe, and bid the world adieu,
While heaven's bright mansions open to my view !
Yet ftill one care, one tender care remains ;
My bounteous friend, relieve a father's pains !
Watch o'er my fon, inform his waxen youth,
And mould his mind to virtue and to truth ;
Soon let him learn fair liberty to prize,
And envy him who for his country dies ;
In one fhort fentence to comprize the whole,
Transfufe to his the virtues of thy foul.
Preferve thy life, my too, too generous friend,
Nor feek with mine thy happier fate to blend !
Live for thy country, live to guard her laws ;
Proceed, and profper, in the glorious caufe ;
While I, tho' vanquifh'd, fcorn the field to fly,
But boldly face my foes, and bravely die !
Let princely Monmouth courtly wiles beware,
Nor truft too far to fond paternal care ;
Too oft dark deeds deform the midnight cell,
Heaven only knows how noble Eflex fell !
Sidney yet lives, whofe comprehenfive mind
Ranges at large thro' fyftems unconfin'd ;
Wrapt in himfelf, he fcorns the tyrant's power,
And hurls defiance even from the Tower ;
With tranquil brow awaits th' unjuft decree 1 ,
And, arm'd with virtue, looks to follow me.
Cavendim, farewel ! May Fame our names entwine t
Thro' life I lov'd thee dying, I am thine ;
With pious rites let duft to duft be thrown,
And thus infcribe my monumental ftone :
' Here
176 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Here RUSSEL lies, enfranchis'd by the grave !
He priz'd his birthright, nor would live a flave.
Few were his words, but honeft and fincere,
' Dear were his friends, his country Hill more dear ;
In parents, children, wife, fupremely blefs'd,
'But that one paffion fwallow'd all the reft ;
To guard her freedom was his only pride ;
' Such was his love, and for that love he dy'd.
Yet fear not thou, when Liberty difplays
Her glorious flag, to fleer his cour/e to praife ;
For know, (whoe'er thou art that read'ft his fate,
' And think'ft, perhaps, his fufferings were too great !}
Blefs'd as he was, at her imperial call,
' Wife, children, parents, he refign'd them all ;
Each fond affection then forfook his foul,
' And Amor Patriae occupied the whole ;
In that great caufe he joy'd to meet his doom,
Blefs'd the keen axe, and triumph'd o'er the tomb !'
The hour draws near But what are hours to me ?
Hours, days, and years hence undiflinguim'd flee I
Time, and his glafs, unheeded pafs away,
Abforb'd and loft in one vaft flood of day !
On Freedom's wings my foul is borne on high,
And foars exulting to it's native Iky !
THE WINTER'S WALK.
BY DR. JOHNSON.
BEHOLD, my fair, where'er we rove,
What dreary profpedls round us rife;
The naked hill, the leaflefs grove,
The hoary ground, the frowning ikies !
Nor
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 177
Nor only through the wafted plain,
Stern winter, is thy force confefs'd;
Still wider fpreads thy horrid reign,
I feel thy power ufurp my breaft.
Enlivening hope, and fond defire,
Refign the heart to fpleen and care ;
Scarce frighted fove maintains her fire,
And rapture faddens to defpair.
In groimdlefs hope, and caufelefs fear,
Unhappy man ! behold thy doom ;
Still changing with the changeful year,
Tke flave of funftiine and of gloom.
Tir'd with vain joys, and falfe alarms,
With mental and corporeal ftrife,
Snatch me, my Stella, to thy arms,
And fcreen me from the ills of life !
THE AUTHOR'S ACCOUNT
OF HIS
JOURNEY TO IRELAND.
TO MR. JOHN ELLIS.
BY MOSES MENDEZ,
DEAR SIR, Dublin, July 5, 1744.
BY the lyre of Apollo, the locks of the mufes,
And the pure lucid ftream Aganippe produces,
My Ellis, I love thee, then pay me in kind,
Let the thought of a friend never flip from your mind ;
Z So
, 7 8 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
So may fancy and judgment together combine,
And thy bofom be fill'd with an ardour divine ;
That thy brows may the laurel with juftice ftill claim,
And the temple of liberty mount thee to fame.
If it e'er can give pleafure to know my career,
When proud London I left with intentions fo queer.
Accept it in verfe. On the very firft day
When the queen of warm paffions precedes the fair May ;
When, fo cuftom prefcribes, and, to follow old rules,
One half of mankind makes the other half fools ;
From the town I firft breath'd in, I fally'd in hafte,
Thro' Highgate, and Finchley, and Barnet, I pafs'd:
At St. Alban's I din'd with a laughing gay crew,
Not compleat was the fet without Tucker and you.
Where * the Eighth of our Harries defer ted his mate,
And procur'd a full fentence againft his old Kate,
Our brifk company fupp'd, while our wine gave a fpring,
And tho' at the Crown, we ne'er thought of the King.
The morrow fucceeding I got from my bed,
As a fheet, all the roads were with fnows overfpread;
But the gods, who will never abandon a poet,
As oft has been faid, condefcended to mow it:
In a coach and fix horfes the ftorm I defy'd ;
And, left by my friends, thro* the tempeft I ridf .
Newport-Pagnel receiv'd me, and gave me a dinner,
And a bed at Northampton was prefs'd by a finner :
No figns of fair weather, the Weft-Chefter coach
At nine the next morning, a welcome approach,
Prefents frefh example j I travell'd all day,
At Crick eat my dinner, at Coventry lay ;
I tremble whene'er I reflect on the roads
That lead to thofe dirty worm-eaten abodes,
Where a woman f rode naked their taxes to clear,
And a taylor for peeping paid damnably dear ;
* Dunftable. f Lady Codlna.
For
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 179
For two parliaments fam'd *, which intail a difgrace,
And have left their foul manners to poifon the place.
Next morning the fun, with a face of red hue,
Had clear'd up th' expanfe, and array'd it in blue,
When I left the vile town, 'gainft which ever I'll rail,
While Meriden f offers no humble regale ;
But near Mixal Park din'd at houfe of mean fame,
And at night to the field of flain carcafles came J ;
Tho' full old are thy tow'rs, yet receive my juft praife,
May the ale be recorded, and live in my lays !
Thy Gothick cathedral new homage ftill claims,
Nor refufe I thy due, tho' repair'd by King James .
I forgot to advife you, the fky being clear,
'Twas at Coventry firft I afcended my chair,
But, alas ! on the morrow, how difmal the light !
For the day had aflum'd all the horrors of night ;
The clouds their gay vifage had chang'd to a frown,
And in a white mantle cloath'd Litchfield's old town ;
But at noon all was o'er, when intrepid and bold
As a train-band commander, or FalftafF of old,
And proudly defying the wind and the fnow,
When the danger was paft, I determin'd to go.
At Stone I repos'd, but at Oufley I din'd,
Whefre our reck'ning was cheap, and the landlord was kind :
Next morning we fally'd, and Staffordfhire loft ;
But not ill entertain'd by a Ceihian hoft.
On the banks of the Wevcr, at Namptwich, renown'd
For an excellent brine pit, our dinner we found j
* A parliament was held here in the reign of Henry IV. called Partii-
mtntum Indoliarum j and another in that of Henry VI. called Dlaballcum.
{ Meriden is famous for ale.
J Campus Cada-vcrum, was the ancient name for LitchficU, on account of
4 perfecution there in the days of Diotlefian.
King James II.
Z 2 The
o BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
The wine was not bad, tho' the ale did difpleafe,
And an un&uous defert was ferv'd up of old cheefe ;
But as time will not tarry, our courfe we refume,
And St. George's dragoons take their feats in our room * :
So travejling onwards, with pleafure we fee
Old Caerleon fo famous o'er-looking the Dee ;
Four days there we refted ; and, blithefome and gay,
Forgot the bad weather we met on the way ;
Then old Chefter, farewel, till I fee thee again,
And can ftroll thro' thy flreets without dreading the rain f
May thy river ftill fwell J, better pleas'd with his charge,
Than when Edgar was row'd by eight kings in hi$ barge !
Be the maidens all virtuous who drink of thy tide,
And each virgin in bloom be affianc'd a bride !
May the heart and the hand at the altar be join'd,
And no matron complain that a hufband's unkind !
Let their bounty to ftrangers refound in each fong j
Be Barnftone their copy, they cannot go wrong.
O'er the cuts of the river our track we purfue,
And old Flint in the profpeft now rifes to view ;
How ftrange to behold ! here our language is fled ;
To converfe with thefe people 's to talk to the dead ;
And a Turk or Chinefe is as well underftood
By thefe roifters, who boaft of CadwalladarY blood,
As an Englifhmau here, who is certainly undone,
If he thinks to make ufe of the language of London.
From Flint we depart with our landlord and guide,
Who fhew'd us that kindnefs which courts never try'd ;
* General St. George's dragoons were marching up to London, and a party
of them juft came in when we were leaving it.
f The ftreets of Cheiler have fiiops on each fide coveted over; which, if not
beautiful to the eye, 51 leaft preferve one from the rain.
} People are wow employed to make the Rivr Dee navigable up to the
tfwn.
^ Robert Barnftune, Efq. who ufed me with the utrooft hofpitality.
The
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 181
The caftle where Richard * his grandeur laid down,
And betray'd his own life by furrend'ring the crown:
Now the well f we furvey, where a virgin J of old
To all flame but religion's was Ufelefs and colJ j
When in vain princely Cradoc had offef'd his bed.
The mercilefs heathen e'en chopp'd off her he^d :
Hence the ftones are diftain'd with the colour of blood,
And each cripple is cur'd who will bathe in the flood.
Thus the rankeft abfurdity brain ean conceive,
Superftition impofes, and crowds will believe !
Turn from legends and nonfenfe to fee a gay fight,
Where the meadows of Clewyn the fenfes delight,
And excufe that I aim not to point out the place,
Left my numbers too lowly the landfcape difgrace.
At Rhyland we dine, and a caftle we view,
Whofe founder I'd name if the founder I knew ;
But our hoft gives the word, and we hurry away,
Left the length of the journey out-run the flioft day j
Now afcend Penmenrofe, oh ! beware as you rife,
What a profpecl: of horror, what dreadful furprize !
See that height more fublime, which no footfteps e'er try'd!
There the ocean roars loudly ; how awful hi pride !
How narrow the path ! obferve where you tread,
Nor ftumble the feet, nor grow dizzy the head ;
If you flip, not mankind can avert your fad doom,
Dalh againft the rough rocks, and the fea for your tomb
The danger is paft, and now Conway's broad beach,
Fatigu'd and difmay'd, with great gladnefs we reach ;
In a leaky old boat we were wafted fafe o'er
(Tho' two drunkards our fteerfmen) to th' oppofite ihore.
* It was at this place that Richard was prevailed upn to refign the crown.
f Holywdl.
$ St. Winifred, pa.troncfs pf Wale*.
Tke vale of Clewyn.
Here
i8a BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Here the town and the river are both of a name,
And boaft the Firft Edward, who rais'd her to fame :
There a fupper was order'd, which no one could touch.
This too little was boil'd, and that roafted too much ;
To his chamber full hungry each pilgrim retreats,
And forgets his loft meal 'twixt a pair of Welch meets.
A cattle hard by I with pleafure behold,
Which kings had long dwelt in, or giants of old ;
But the daw, and each night-bird, now builds up her neft,
And with clamours and fhrieks the old manfion infeft.
We waken'd at four, and our hoft left us here,
As the worft ways were paft, fo but fmall was our fear ;
We follow'd our route, and crofs'd Penmenmaur's fide,
Where the prudent will walk, but the bolder will ride.
Still above us old rocks feem to threaten a fall,
And prefent to fpe&ators the form of a wall.
Now Bangor we reach oh ! if e'er thou hadft fame,
Tho' lawn fleeves thou beftow'ft, on my life, 'tis a fhame !
There we crofs o'er an arm of the fea, and caroufe
On the oppofite more at an excellent houfe ;
Thro' Anglefea's ifland we rattle our chaife,
While the goats all in wonder feem on us to gaze ;
For be pleas'd to obferve, and with diligence note,
That 'twas here firft in Wales that I met with a goat.
O'er roads rough and craggy our journey we fped,
Nor baited again till we reach'd Holyhead.
The next day, at noon, in the Wyndham we fail,
And the packet danc'd brilk with a profperous gale.
We at ten pafs'd the Bar * ; in the wherry confin'd,
Which fwims on no water, and fails with no wind.
Till near two we fat curfmg ; in vain they may row,.
Not a fnail is fo fiuggifn, nor tortoife fo flow ;
Till a boat took us in, and at length fet us down
At the quay of St George in St. Patrick's chief towi) :
* Dubliu Bar*
Thence
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. i! 3
Thence I wrote to my friend, nor believe what thofc fay,
Or too fond to find fault, or too wantonly gay,
Who with taunts contumelious this ifland o'erload,
As with bogs and with blunders and nonfenfe full ftow'd ;
For, believe me, they live not unblefs'd with good air,
And their daughters are beauteous, and fons debonair :
Here tho' Bacchus too often difplays his red face,
Yet Minerva he holds in the ftrifteft embrace ;
Nor the maiden is coy ev'ry charm to refign ;
And the ivy and laurel peep forth from the vine.
Thus I've told you in verfe the whole progrefs I took,
As true as if fworn in full court on the book :
Let me know how in London you meafure your time;
'Twill be welcome in profe, but twice welcome in rhyme.
PRAYER FOR INDIFFERENCE.
BY MRS. GREVILLZ,
OF T I've implor'd the gods in vain,
And pray'd till I've been weary :
For once, I'll feek my wim to gain
Of Oberon the fairy.
Svfeet airy being, wanton fprite,
Who lurk'ft in woods unfeen ;
And oft by Cynthia's filver light,
Trip'ft gaily o'er the green ;
If e'er thy pitying heart was mov'd,
As ancient ftories tell ;
And for th' Athenian maid * who lov'd,
Thou fought'ft a wondrous fpell ;
* $C Midfummcr Night's Dream.
O deign
i$ 4 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
O deign once more t' exert thy power I
Haply fome herb or tree,
Sovereign as juice of weftern flower *,
Conceals a balm for me.
I aflc no kind return of love,
No tempting charm to pleafe ;
Far from the heart thofe gifts remove,
That figh for peace and eafe !
Nor peace, nor eafe, the heart can know,
That, like the needle true,
Turns at the touch of joy or woe ;
But, turning, trembles too.
Far as diftrefs the foul can wound,
'Tis pain in each degree :
'Tis blifs but to a certain bound ;
Beyond, is agony.
Then take this treach'rous fenfe of mine,
Which dooms me ftill to fmart ;
Which pleafure can to pain refine,
To pain new pangs impart.
O, hafte to fhed the fovereign balm,
My fhatter'd nerves new firing;
And for my gueit, ferenely calm,
The nymph Indifference bring !
At her approach, fee Hope, fee Fear,
See Expeftation fly !
And Difappointment in the rear,
That blafts the promisM joy.
* See Midfummer Night's Dream.
The
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 185
The tear which Pity taught to flow,
The eye (hall then difown ;
The heart that melts for others woe,
Shall then fcarce feel it's own.
The wounds which now each moment bleed,
Each moment then mail clofe ;
And tranquil day's mall fall fiicceed
To nights of calm repofe.
O Fairy Elf! out grant me this,
This one kind comfort fend ;
And fo may never-fading blifs
Thy flow'ry paths attend !
So may the glow-worm's glimm'ring light
Thy tiny footfteps lead
To fome new region of delight,
Unknown to mortal tread !
And be thy acorn goblet fill'd
With heavVs ambrofial dew ;
From fweeteft, frelheft flow'rs diftill'd,
That fhed frefh fweets for you !
And what of life remains for me,
I'll pafs in fober eafc ;
Half-pleas'd, contented will I be,
Content but half to pleafe.
Aa THE
186 BEAUTIES OF POETRY".
THE FAIRY'S ANSWER
T.O MRS, GREVILLE.
BY THE COUNTESS OF C
WITHOUT preamble, to my friend,
Thefe hafty lines I'm bid to fend,
^ Or give, if I am able ;
I dare not hefitate to fay,
Tho' I have trembled all the day,
It looks fo like a fable.
Lnft night's adventure is my theme,
And mould it ftrike you as a dream,
Yet foon it's high import
Muft make you own the matter fach,
So delicate, it were too much
To be compos'd in fport.
The moon did fhine ferenely bright,
And every ftar did deck the night,
While Zephyr fann'd the trees ;
No more aflail'd my mind's repofe,
Save that yon ftream, which murmuring flows,
Did echo to the breeze.
Enrapt in folemn thought, I fate,
Revolving o'er the turns of Fate,
Yet void of hope or fear ;
When, lo ! behold an air)' throng,
With lighteft fteps, and jocund fong,
Surpriz'd my eye and ear.
A form
B.EAUTIES OF POETRY.
A form fuperior to the reft,
His little voice to me addrefs'd,
And gently thus began :
' I've heard ftrange things from one of you,
* Pray tell me if you think 'tis true,
' Explain it Jf you can.
* Such incenfe has perfum'd my throne,
' Such eloquence my heart has won^
I think I guefs the hand !
' I know her wit and beauty too,
'But why me fends a prayer fo new
I cannot underftand.
To light fome flames, and fome revive,
' To keep fome others juft alive,
* Full oft I am implor'd ;
' But, with peculiar power to pleafe,
* To fupplicate for nought but eafe,
' 'Tis odd, upon my word !
Tell her, with fruitlefs care I've fought ;
' And tho' my realms, with wonders fraught,
' In remedies abound,
* No grain of cold Indifference
* Was ever yet ally'd to Senfe,
In all my Fairy round.
' The regions of the fky I'd trace,
I'd ranfack every earthly place,
' Each leaf, each herb, each flower,
' To mitigate the pangs of Fear,
* Difpel the clouds of black Dcfpair,
' Or lull the reftlefs hour !
A a 2 'I would
iSS BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
' I would be generous, as I'm juft,
f But I obey, as others muft,
' Thofe laws which Fate has made :
' My tiny kingdom how defend,
' And what might be the horrid ertd
' Should man my ftate invade 1
' 'Twould put your mind into a rage,
*. And fuch unequal war to wage
' Suits not my regal duty !
' I dare not change a firft decree,
' She's doom'd to pleafe, nor can be free !
\ Such is the lot of Beauty.'
This faid, he darted o'er the plain,
And after follow'd all his train ;
No glimpfe of him I find :
But fure I am, the little fprite,
Thefe words, before he took his flight,
Imprinted on my mind.
TQ A LADY BEFORE MARRIAGE.
BY MR. TICK EL.
OH ! form'd by Nature, and refin'd by Art,
With charms to win, and fenfe to fix the heart I
By thoufands fought, Clotilda, can'ft thou free
Thy crowd of captives, and defcend to me ?
Content in fhades obfcure to wafte thy life,
A hidden beauty, and a country wife !
O liften while thy fummers are my theme !
Ah, foothe thy partner in his waking dream I
In
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. iS 9
in fome fmall hamlet on the lonely plain,
Where Thames, thro' meadows, rolls his mazy train ;
Pr where high Windfor, thick with greens array'd.
Waves his old oaks, and fprcads his ample ihade,
Fancy has figur'd out our calm retreat :
Already, round the vifionary feat,
Our limes begin to moot, our flow'rs to fpring ?
The brooks to murmur, and the birds to ling.
Where doft thou lie, thou thinly-peopled green ;
Thou namelefs lawn, and village yet unfeen ;
Where fons, contented with their native ground,
Ne'er travel farther than ten furlongs round ;
And the tann'd peafant, and his ruddy bride,
Were born together, and together died !
Where early larks bell tell the morning-light,
And'only Philomel difturbs the night !
'Midft gardens here my humble pile mall rife,
With fweets furrounded of ten thoufand dyes ;
All favage where th' embroider'd gardens end,
The haunt of echoes mall my woods afcend ;
And, O ! if Heaven th' ambitious thought approve,
A rill mail warble crofs the gloomy grove ;
A little rill, o'er pebbly beds convey'd,
Gufh down the deep, and glitter thro' the glade !
What chearing fcents thofe bord'ring banks exhale !
How loud that heifer lows from yonder vale !
That thrufh, how fhrill ! his note fo clear, fo high,
He drowns each feather'd minftrel of the iky.
Here let me trace, beneath the purpled morn,
The deep-mouth'd beagle, and the fprightly horn ;
Or lure the trout with well-diflembled flies,
Or fetch the flutt'ring partridge from the flues :
Nor mall thy hand difdain to crop the vine,
The downy peach, or flavour'd neftarine ;
Or rob the bee-hive of it's golden hoard,
And bear th' unbought luxuriance to thy board.
Some-
190 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Sometimes my books by day fliall kill the hours,
While from thy needle rife the filken flow'rs ;
And thou, by turns, to eafe my feeble fight,
Refume the volume, and deceive the night.
O ! when I mark thy twinkling eyes opprefs'd,
Soft whifp'ring, let me warn my love to reft ;
Then watch thee, charm'd, while fleep locks every fenfe.
And to fweet Heav'n commend thy innocence.
Thus reign'd our fathers o'er the rural fold,
Wife, hale, and honeft, in the days of old ;
Till courts arofe, where fubftance pays for mow,
And fpecious joys are bought with real woe.
See Flavia's pendants, large, well fpread, and right ;
The ear that wears them hears a fool each night :
Mark how th' embroider'd col'nel fneaks away,
To fhun the with'ring dame that made him gay.
That knave, to gain a title, loft his fame ;
That rais'd his credit by a daughter's fhame :
This coxcomb's ribband cofl him half his land ;
And oaks unnumbcr'd bought that fool a wand.
Fond man, as all his forrows were too few,
Acquires ftrange wants that Nature never knew !
By midnight-lamps he emulates the day,
And fleeps, perverfe, the chearful funs away ;
From goblets high embofs'd his wine muft glide;
Round his clos'd fight the gorgeous curtain Hide ;
Fruits, ere their time, to grace his pomp, muft rife,
And three untafted courfes glut his eyes.
For this are Nature's gentle calls withitood,
The voice of confcience, and the bonds of blood !
This, Wifdora, thy reward for ev'ry pain !
And this, gay Glory, ail thy mighty gain !
Fair phantoms, woo'd and fcorn'd from age to age,
Since bards began to laugh, or prieils to rage :
/vnd yet, juft curfe on man's afpiring kind,
Prone to ambition, to example blind,
Our
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Our children's children mall our fleps purfue,
And the fame errors be for ever new !
Meanwhile, in hope a guiltlefs country fwain,
My reed with warblings chears th' imagin'd plain.
Hail, humble fhades, where truth and filence dwell !
Thou, noify town, and faithlefs court, farewel !
Farewel ambition, once my darling flame !
The thirft of lucre, and the charm of fame !
In life's bye-road, that winds thro' paths unknown.
My days, tho' number'd, fhall be all my own !
Here fhall they end (O might they twice begin !)
And all be white the fates intend to fpin.
THE CIT'S COUNTRY-BOX.
BY MR. ROBERT LLOYD,
Vos fapere ct folos aio bcne vivere, quorum,
Confpicitur nitidis fundata petunia villis. wo.
TH E wealthy cit, grown old in trade,
Now wifhes for the rural made,
And buckles to his one-horfe chair
Old Dobbin, or the founder'd mare ;
While wedg'd in clofely by his fide.
Sits Madam, his unwieldy bride,
With Jacky on a ftool before 'em,
And out they jog in due decorum.
Scarce paft the turnpike half a mile,
' How all the country feems to fmile !'
And as they (lowly jog together,
The cit commends the road and weather ;
While Madam doats upon the trees.
And longs for ev'ry houfe me fe*s.
Admires
i 9 z BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Admires it's views, it's fituatiorr,
And thus me opens her oration.
What fignifies the loads of wealth,
* Without that richeft jewel, health ?
* Excufe the fondnefs of a wife,
' Who doats upon your precious life !
' Such eafelefe toil, fuch conftant care,
' Is more than human ftrength can bear :
* One may obferve it in your face
* Indeed, my dear, you break apace j
' And nothiug can your health repair,
' But exercife, and country air.
* Sir Traffick has a houfe, you know,
* About a mile from Cheney Row :
' He's a good man, indeed, 'tis true,
* But not fo warm, my dear, as you ;
' And folks are always apt to fneer
' One would not be out-done, my dear I*
Sir Traffick's name fo well apply'd,
Awak'd his brother merchant's pride j
And Thrifty, who had all his life
Paid utmoft deference to his wife,
Confefs'd her arguments had reafon ;
And by th' approaching fummer feafon,
Draws a few hundreds from the flocks,
And purchafes his Country-box.
Some three or four miles out of town,
(An hour's ride will bring you down)
He fixes on his choice abode,
Not half a furlong from the road ;
And fo convenient does it lay,
The ftages pafs it ev'ry day :
And then fo fnug, fo mighty pretty,
To have a houfe fo near the city !
Take but your places at the Boar,
You're fet down at the very door.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 193
Well then, fuppofe them fix'd at laft,
White-warning, painting, fcrubbing part ;
Hugging themfelves in eafe and clover,
With all the fufs of moving over ;
Lo, a new heap of whims are bred,
And wanton in iny lady's head !
' Well ; to be fure, it muft be own'd,
* It is a charming fpot of ground :
' So fweet a diftance for a ride,
' And all about fo countrify'd !
* 'Twould come to but a trifling prke
' To make it quite a paradife !
* I cannot bear thofe nafty rails,
' Thofe ugly, broken, mouldy pales :
* Suppofe, my dear, inftead of thefe,
' We build a railing all Chinefe ;
' Altho' one hates to be expos'd,
' 'Tis difmal to be thus enclos'd :
' One hardly any objeft fees
* I wifh you'd fell thofe odious trees.
' Objects continual paffing by,
* Were fomething to amufe the eye ;
* But to be pent within the walls,
* One might as well be at St. Paul's.
' Our houfe, fceholders would adore,
* Was there a level lawn before,
' Nothing it's views to incommode,
* But quite laid open to the road ;
' While ev'ry tiav'ller in amaze,
' Should on our little manfion gaze ;
' And pointing to the choice retreat,
* Cry, " That's Sir Thrifty's country-feat !"
No doubt her arguments prevail,
For Madam's TASTE can never fail.
Blefs'd age ! when all men may procure
The title of a connoifTeur ;
B b Whra
$94 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
When noble and ignoble herd
Are govern'd by a fmgle word ;
Tho', like the royal German dames,
It bears an hundred Chriftian names-
AS Genius, Fancy, Judgment, Gout,
Whim, Caprice, Je ne fcai quoi, Virtu ;
Which appellations all defcribe
TASTE, and the modern tafteful tribe.
Now bricklay'rs, carpenters, and joiners,
With Chinefe artifts and defigners,
Produce their fchemes of alteration,
To work this wond'rous reformation.
The ufeful dome, which fecret flood,
Embofom'd in the yew-tree's wood,
The trav'ller with amazement fees
A temple Gothick or Chinefe,
With many a bell and tawdry rag on^
And crefted with a fprawling dragon;
A wooden arch is bent aftride
A ditch of water, four feet wide,
With angles, curves, and zigzag lines,
From Halfpenny's exadl defigns :
In front, a level lawn is feen,
Without a Ihrub upon the green ;
Where Taile would want it's firft great Iaw 4
But for the fltulking, fly ha-ha;
By whofe miraculous affiftance
You gain a profpeft two fields diftance.
And now from Hyde-Park-Corner come
The gods of Athens and of Rome.
Here fquabby Cupids take their places,
With Venus, and the clumfy Graces ;
Apollo there, with aim fo clever,
Stretches his leaden bow for ever ;
And there, without the pow'r to fly,
Stands fix'd a tip-toe Mercury.
The
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 195
The villa thus compleatly grac'd,
All own, that Thrifty has a tafle ;
And Madam's female friends and coufins,
With common -council-men, by dozens>
Flock ev'ry Sunday to the feat,
To flare about them, and to eat.
THE HOUSE OF SUPERSTITION.
A VISION.
BY MR. DEN TON.
I.
WHEN Sleep's all-foothing hand, with fetters foft^
Ties down each fenfe, and lulls to balmy reft*
Th' internal pov/'r, creative Fancy, oft
Broods o'er her treafures in the formful breaft.
Thus, when no longer daily cares engage,
The bufy mind purfues the darling theme ;
Hence angels whifper'd to the flurab'ring fage,
And gods of old infpir'd the hero's dream :
Hence as I flept, thefe images arofe
To Fancy's eye ; and join'd, this fairy fcene compofe,
II.
As, when fair morning dries her pearly tears,
The mountain lifts o'er mifls it's lofty head ;
Thus, new to fight, a Gothick dome appears
With the grey ruft of rolling years o'erfpread.
Here Super ftition holds her dreary reign,
And her lip-labour 'd orifons me plies
lu tongue unknown j when morn bedews the plain,
Or ev'ning fkirts with gold the weftem fkies ;
To the dumb flock me bends, or fculptur'd wall,
And many a crofs (he makes, and many a bead lets fall:
B b * III. Near
196 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
III.
Near to the dome a rnagick pair refide,
Prompt to deceive, and practis'd to confound ;
Here hoodwink'd Ignorance is feen to bide,
Stretching in darkfome cave along the ground,
No objeft e'er awakes his ftupid eyes,
Nor voice articulate arrefts his ears,
Save when beneath the moon pale fpeclres rife,
And haunt his foul with vifionary fears ;
Or when hoarfe winds incavern'd murmur round,
And babblmg echo wakes, and iterates the found.
IV.
Where boughs entwining form an artful made,
And in faint glimm'rings juff admit the light,
There Error fits in borrow'd white array 'd,
And in Truth's form deceives the tranfient fight,
A thoufand glories wait her op'ning day,
Her beaming luftre when fair Truth imparts :
Thus Error would pour forth a fpurious Jay,
And cheat th' unpraftis'd mind with mimick arts;
She cleaves with magick wand the liquid fkies,
Eids airy forms appear, and fcenes fantaftick rife.
V.
A porter deaf, decrepid, old, and blind,
Sits at the gate, and lifts a lib'ral bowl
With wine of wond'rous pow'r to lull the mind,
And check each vig'rous effort of the foul :
Who'er un'wares (hall ply his thirfty lip,
And drink in gulps the lufcious liquor down,
Shall haplefs from the cup delufion ftp,
And objefts fee in features not their own.
Each way-worn traveller that hither came,
He lav'd with copious draughts, and Prejudice his name.
VI. Within.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. rof
VI.
Within a various race are feen to wonne,
Props of her age, and pillars of her ftate,
Which erfl were nurtur'd by the wither'd crone,
And born to Tyranny, her grifly mate :
The firft appear'd in pomp of purple pride,
With triple crown erecl, and throned high ;
Two golden keys hang dangling by his fide,
To lock or ope the portals of the fky ;
Crouching and proftrate there (ah ! fight unmeet!)
The crowned head would bow, and lick his dufty feet.
VII.
With bended arm he on a book reclin'd,
Fail lock'd with iron clafps from vulgar eyes j
Heav'n's gracious gift to light the wand'ring mind,
To lift fall'n man, and guide him to the ikies !
A man no more, a god he would be thought,
And 'mazed mortals blindly muft obey;
With flight of hand he lying wonders wrought,
And near him loathfome heaps of reliques lay : *
Strange legends would he read, and figments dire
Of Limbus' prifon'd (hades, and purgatory fire.
VIII.
There meagre Penance fate, in fackcloth clad,
And to his breaft clofe hugg'd the viper, Sin ;
Yet oft, with brandim'd whip would gaul, as mad,
With voluntary ftripes his flirivell'd fldn.
Counting large heaps of o'er-abounding good
Of faints that dy'd within the church's pale,
With gentler afpeft there Indulgence flood,
And to the needy culprit would retail ;
There too, ftrange merchandize ! he pardons (old,
And treafon would abfolve, and murder purge with gold!
IX. Whh
i 9 S BEAUTIES OF POfcTRY.
IX.
With fhavcn crown, in a fequefter'd cell,
A lazy lubbard there was feen to lay ;
No work had lie, fave fome few beads to tell,
And indolently fnore the hours away.
The namelefs joys that blefs the nuptial bed,
The myflick rites of Hymen's hallow'd tye,
Impure he deems, and from them flarts with dread^i
As crimes of fouleft liain, the deepeft dye :
No focial hopes hath he, no focial fears,
But fpends in lethargy devout the ling'ring years*
X.
Gnaming his teeth in mood of furious ire,
Fierce Perfecution fate, and with ftrong breath
Wakes into living flame large heaps of fire,
And feafts on murders, mafTacres, and death*
Near him was plac'd Procruftes' iron bed
To ftretch or mangle to a certain fize :
To fee their writhing paiiis each heart muft bleed,
To hear their: doleful flirieks and piercing cries ;
Yet he beholds them with unmoiften'd eye^
Their writhing pains his fport, their moans his melody^
XI.
A gradual light diffusing o'er the gloom,
And flow approaching with majeftick pace,
A lovely maid appears in beauty's bloom,
With native charms and unaffe&ed grace :
Her hand a clear refle&irig mirrour mows,
In which all objefts their true features wear;
And on her cheek a blufh indignant glows
To fee the horrid forc'ries pra&is'd there :
She friatch'd the volume from the tyrant's rage,
Unlock'd it's iron clafps, and op'd the heav'nly page.
XII; My
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
XII.
f Afy name is Truth, and you, each holy feer,
' That all my Heps with ardent gaze purfue,
f Unveil,' me faid, ' the facred myft'ries here,
' Give the celeflial boon to publick view.
' Tho' blatant Obloquy, with lep'rous mouth,
* Shall blot your fame, and blaft the generous deed,
f Yet in revolving years fome lib'ral youth
* Shall crown your virtuous aft with glory's meed ;
* Your names adorn'd in Gilpin's * polifh'd page
With each hiftorick grace, (hall mine thro 1 ev'ry age 1
XIII.
f With furious hate, tho' fierce relentlefs pow'r
' Exert of torment all her horrid fkill ;
* Tho' your lives meet too foon the fatal hour,
' Scorching in flames, or writhing on the wheel;
f Yet when the dragon f in the deep abyfs
* Shall lie, faft bound in adamantine chain,
f Ye with the Lamb mail rife to ceafelefs blifs,
' Firft-fruits of death, and partners of his reign ;
' Then mall repay the momentary tear,
? The great fabbatick reft, the Millennary Year !*
* The Rev. Mr. William Gilpin, author of the Lives of Bernard Gilpin
and Bifhcp Latimer, and of the Lives of Wicklifte and the principal of his
followers.
f See Rev. chap. xx. and the learned and ingenious Bifhop of Briftol's corn-
Rent upon it, in the third volume of his Diflertation on the Prophecies.
DUN-
2PQ BEAUTIES OF P O E T R V.
DUNNOTTER CASTLE.
BY MISS SCOTT.
DUNN OTT E R's ruin'd pride, and falling towers,
I fmg, O Walker * ! and the fong is yours.
With you I wander'd o'er the mofs-grown domes ;
Still o ; er the fcene with you my fancy roams ;
Still the idea rifes to my view,
With gloomy grandeur, pleafure ever new !
The rolling main, the rock's ftupendous height,
.& ttriking profpeft ! fwim before my fight.
In flowing verfe now be the fcene difplay'd,
Mufe, Fancy, Memory, I crave your aid !
High on a rock, projecting from the land,
The caftle ftood, and ftill it's ruins ftand ;
Wide o'er the German main the profpeft bent,
Steep is the path, and rugged the afcent ;
And when with labour climb'd the narrow way,
Long founding-vaults receive you from the day.
There hung the huge port-cullis, there the bar,
Drawn on the iron-gate, defy'd the war.
Ah, great Dunnotter ! once of ftrength the feat !
Once deem'd impregnable ! thou yield'ft to Fate !
Nor rocks, ncr feas, nor arms, thy gates defend ;
Thy pride is fallen, thy ancient glories end !
Up from the gate we climb the flipp'ry way,
Still falling turrets, mould'ring towers, furvey ;
The walls and caves with various mofs o'ergrown.
And threat'ning nods on high the loofen'd ftone.
Slowly we mount, thro' broken arches creep,
And gain at laft the fummit of the fteep ;
* The Pcv. Mr. Walker, miniftcr of the parifli of Dunnotter.
Curious
BEAUTIES OF PdETRY. ao i
Curious around the airy height we gaze,
There the great well it's ample round difplays,
A vafi circumference, and depth profound,
Now fill'd with ruins of the falling mound.
There flood the palace, rais'd in air fiiblime,
On rows of vaults that feem'd to mock at Time ;
Yet he afTerts his power, and claims his prey ;
They break, they fall ! what can refill his fway !
Here, thro' innumerable vaults we run,
Cold, dreary, damp, impervious to the fun,
Brown with the rufl of years ; and from their tops
Inceflantly the oozing moiftiire drops.
We leave the gloom, the wheeling fleps afcend,
Our walk along the rooflefs palace bend ;
Here, thro' the long apartments as we pafs,
The foft wind whittles thro' the waving grafs,
That cloaths the pavement, crowns the naked walls,
Of broken turrets and deferted halls.
Here, once the feat of many a mighty name,
The jack-daws chatter, and the fea-fowl fcream I
Here dwelt great Ogilvie, and held the tower,
The laft that yielded to th' ufurper's power ;
By honefl craft from hence the crown convey'd,
And Caledonia's gems in fafety laid :
Nor hopes of favour, nor the threats of power,
Could (hake his foul, or his fix'd heart allure.
Firm as the rocks, he and his daring wife
Endur'd the torture, fcorning flumeful life ;
And kept the charge, till Heav'n their king reilor'd;
Then fent, uninjur'd, to their rightful lord.
Glorious defenders of the regal gold,
Illuftrious Caledonians, patriots bold !
With joy your heroifm I rehearfe,
And give your mem'ry all I can a verfe.
O may this land your guardian care engage, -,
Your great example fire with gen'rous rage, C
And rouze to glorious deeds each future age '. j
C c Thou,
202 BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
Thou, B arras, hear ! and deign t' approve the lays,
That arm thy valiant anceftors to praife !
Now turning from the walls, high o'er the fteep
Impending cliff, we view the boundlefs deep ;
All round the winding coaft, black rocks arife,
And with uncouth variety furprize :
The waves roll flow and filent to the more,
Then lafh the craggy beach, and fullen roar ;
From rock to rock the breaking furge rebounds,
While endlefs echoes catch and fwell the founds.
The green fea here with ceafelefs fury raves,
And toffes high in air her raging waves j-
Burfting they fall with loud repeated mock,
And in white torrents pour along the rock ;
Whilft oft from more in peace the ocean lies,
Ting'd with the colour of the glowing fkies,
The gentle breezes fport upon the deep,
And, murm'ring foft, the vaft expanfion fweep ;
R.efulgent Phoebus, hi meridian height,
Enrobes the lucid waves with mellow light ;
The fparkling beams on the fmall furface play,
And flfeams of foam float on the wat'ry way.
Here let defcription ceafe ; but ftill prolong
Thy tafk, O Mufe ! and moralize the fong.
Think, all who gaze on fam'd Dunnotter's wall,
Like it (hall all terreftrial glories fall !
Youth flies apace, frail beauty meets decay j
The mighty's ftrength, like ice, mall melt away.
Riches take wings ; and Fame's far-founding boafty
Shall die away the pride of pow'r be loft.
Health, pleafure, life, fhall pafs, a fading flow'r,
Sport of a day, and pageant of an hour !
Fix not on thefe thy heart ; but rife fublime,
And feek a blifs, unmov'd by fate or time :
Virtue alone can give eternal joy,
No chance can alter, no pofleflion cloy !
Virtue.
BEA-UTIES OF POETRY. 203
Virtue, like this great rock, ftands firmly brave,
And fcorns the ebb or flow of Fortune's wave ;
Unmov'd the dorms of life can calmly bear,
Collected in itfel and void of fear !
E'en when thefe rocks and feas mall pafs away,
And that bright orb no longer rule the day,
Virtue mall ftand the teft, like gold refin'd,
And beam immortal radiance on the mind ;
Thro' endlefs ages gain increafmg ftore *
Of light and life, of joy, and active pow'r, >
And bloom when time and nature arc no more ! J
ON THE DEATH OF LADY COVENTRY.
B Y M R. M A S O N.
TH E midnight clock has toll'd ; and hark, the bell
Of death beats flow ! heard ye the note profound^
It paufes now ; and now, with rifing knell,
Flings to the hollow gale it's fullen found.
Yes ; Coventry is dead. Attend the ftrain,
Daughters of Albion ! ye that, light as air,
So oft have tripp'd in her fantaftick train,
With hearts as gay, and faces half as fair ;
For Hie was fair beyond your brighteft bloom ;
(This Envy owns, fmce now her bloom is fled ;}
Fair as the forms that, wove in Fancy's loom,
Float in light vifion round the poet's head.
Whene'er with foft ferenity me fmil'd,
Or caught the orient blulh of quick furprize,
How fweetly mutable, how brightly wild,
The liquid luftre darted from her eyes }
C c 2 Each
4 BEAUTIES OF POETRY/
Each look, each motion, wak'd a new-born grace,
That o'er her form it's transient glory caft :
Some lovelier wonder foon ufurp'd the place,
Chas'd by a charm flill lovelier than the laft.
That bell again ! It tells us what me is ;
On what me was, no more the ftrain prolong :
Luxuriant Fancy paufe ! an hour like this,
Demands the tribute of a ferious fong.
Maria claims it from that fable bier,
Where cold and wan the flumb'rer relts her head $
In ftill fmall whifpers to Refieclion's ear,
She breathes the folemn didlates of the dead.
O catch the awful notes, and lift them loud !
Proclaim the theme, by fage, by fool rever'd ;
Hear it, ye young, ye vain, ye great, ye proud!
'Tis Nature fpeaks, and Nature will be heard.
Yes ; ye mail hear, and tremble as you hear,
While, high with health, your hearts exulting leap j
E'en in the midft of Pleafure's mad career,
The mental monitor mail wake and weep \
For fay, than Coventry's propitious ftar,
What brighter planet on your births arofe ;
Or fave of Fortune's gifts an ampler mare,
In life to lavifli, or by death to lofe !
Early to lofe ; while borne on bufy wing,
Ye fip the neftar of each varying bloom :
Nor fear, while balking in the beams of fpring,
The wint'ry florm that fweeps you to the tomb.
Think of her fate ! revere the heav'nly hand
That led her hence, tho' foon, by fteps fo flow :
Long at her couch Death took his patient ftand,
And menac'd oft., and oft witheld the blow ;
To give Pvefleftion 'time, with lenient art,
Each fond delufion from her foul to fteal ;
Teach her from Folly peaceably to part,
And wean her from a world flie iov'd fo well.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. * O |
Say, are ye fure his mercy lhall extend
To you fo long a fpan ? Alas, ye figli !
Make then, while yet ye may, your God your friend,
And learn with equal eafe to fleep or die !
Nor think the Mufe, whofe fober voice ye hear.
Contracts with bigot-frown her fullen brow;
Cafts round Religion's orb the miib of fear,
Or fhades with horrors, what with fmiles fhould glow.
No ; fiie would warm you with feraphick fire,
Heirs as ye are of heav'n's eternal day ;
Would bid you boldly to that heav'n afpire,
Not fink and flumber in your cells of clay.
Know, ye were form'd to range yon azure field,
In yon etherial founts of blifs to lave ;
Force then, fecure in Faith's protecting fhield,
The fting from Death, the vicVry from the Grave !
Is this the bigot's rant ? Away, ye Vain,
Your hopes, your fears in doubt, in dulnefs deep :
Go foothe your fouls in ficknefs, grief, or pain,
With the fad folace of eternal fleep !
Yet will I praife you, triflers as ye are,
More than thofe preachers of your fav'rite creed,
Who proudly fwell the brazen throat of war,
Who form the phalanx, bid the battle bleed ;
Nor wifli for more : who conquer, but to die.
Hear, Folly, hear ! and triumph in the tale !
Like you they reafon, not like you enjoy
The breeze of blifs that fills your filken fail:
On Pleafure's glitt'ring ftream ye gaily fleer
Your little courfe to cold Oblivion's fhore ;
They dare the ftorm, and thro' th' inclement year,
Stem the rough furge, and brave the torrent's roar.
Is it for glory ? That juft Fate denies :
Long muft the warrior moulder in his fhroud,
Ere from her trump the heav'n-breath'd accents rife,
That lift the hero from the fighting crowd !
Is
*o6 BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
Is it his grafp of empire to extend ?
To curb the fury of infulting foes ?
Ambition, ceafe ; the idle conteft end :
'Tis but a kingdom thou canft win or lofe.
And why muft murder'd myriads lofe their all !
(If life be all ;) why Defolation lour,
With famim'd frown, on this affrighted ball,
That thou may'ft flame the meteor of an hour ?
Go, wifer ye, that flutter life away,
Crown with the mantling juice the goblet high ;
Weave the light dance, with feftive freedom gay,
And live your moment, fince the next ye die !
Yet know, vain fcepticks, know, th' Almighty mind,
Who breath'd on man a portion of his fire,
Bade his free foul, by earth nor time connn'd,
To heav'n, to immortality afpire.
Nor (hall the pile of hope his mercy rear'd,
By vain philofophy be e'er deftroy'd :
Eternity, by all or wifli'd or fear'd,
Shall be, by all, or fuffer'd or enjoy'd J
NOTE, In a book of French verfes, intided, Oeu-uris du Pbllofcpce de fani
jSouci, and lately reprinted at Berlin by authority, under the title of Poejtei
Di-vcrjes, may be found an Eputle to Marfhal Keith, written profeffedly
againft the immortality of the foul. By way of fpecimen of the whole, take
the following lines.
De Pavenir, cher Keith, jugeons par le pafle :
Comme avant que je fufle il n'avoit point penfe ;
De meme, apn>s ma mort. quand toutes mes parties
Par la corruption feront aneanties,
Par un meme deftin il ne penfera plus !
Non, rien n'eil plus certain, foyons-en convaincu.
It is to this Epiftie, that tke latter part of the Elegy alludes.
THE
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 207
THE SEASONS.
IN FOUR PASTORALS.
BY MR. BREREWOOD.
I. SPRING.
WHEN, approach'd by the fair dewy fingers of Spring,
Swelling buds open firft, and look gay ;
When the birds on the boughs by their mates fit and fing,
And are danc'd by the breeze on each fpray :
When gently defcending, the rain in foft mowers,
With it's moifture refrefhes the ground ;
And the drops, as they hang on the plants and the flowers,
Like rich gems beam a luftre around :
When the wood-pigeons fit on the branches and coo;
And the cuckoo proclaims with his voice,
That Nature marks this for the feafon to woo,
And for all that can love to rejoice :
In a cottage at night may I fpend all my time,
In the fields and the meadows all day,
With a maiden whofe charms are as yet in their prime,
Young as April, and blooming as May !
When the lark with fhrill notes (ings aloft in the morn,
May my faireft and I fweetly wake,
View the far diftant hills, which the fun-beams adorn*
Thn arife, and our cottage forfake.
When
* BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
When the fun Ihines fo warm, that my charmer and t
May recline on the turf \vithout fear,
Let us there all vain thoughts and ambition defy,
While we breathe the firft fweets of the year.
Be this fpot on a hill, and a fpring from it's fide
Bubble out, and transparently flow,
Creep gently along in meanders, and glide
Thro' the vale ftrew'd with daifies below.
While the bee fties from bio/Tom to bloffom^ an
And the violets their fweetnefs impart,
Let me hang on her neck, and fo tafte from her lips
The rich cordial that thrills to the heart.
While the dove fits lamenting the lofs of it's mate*
Which the fowler has caught in his fnares,
May we think ourfelves blefs'd that it is not our fate
To endure fuch an abfence as theirs.
May I liilen to all her foft, tender, fweet notes,
When me fmgs, and no founds interfere,
But the warbling of birds, which in ftretching their throats
Are at ftrife to be louder than her.
When the daifies, and cowflips, and primrofes blow,
And chequer the meads and the lawns,
May we fee bounding there the fwift light-footed doe,
And purfue with our eye the young fawns.
When the lapwings, juft fledg'd, o'er the'turf take their ru
And the firftlings are all at their play,
And the harmlefs young Iambs Ikip about in the fan,
Let us then be as frolkk as they,
When
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 209
When I talk of my love, mould I chance to efpy
That me feems to miftruft what I fay,
By a tear that is ready to fall from her eye,
With my lips let me wipe it away.
If we lit, dr" we walk, may I caft round my eyes,
And let no fingle beauty efcape ;
But fee none to create fo much love and furprize,
As her eyes; and her face, and her fhape.
Thus each day let us pafs, till the buds turn to leaves,
And the meadows around ds are mown ;
When the lafs on the fweet-fmelling haycock receives
What me afterwards blulhes to own.
When evenings grow cool, and the flow'rs hang their heads
With the dew, then no longer we'll roam ;
With my arm round her waift, in a path thro' the meads,
Let. Us haften to find our way home.
When the birds are at rooft* with their heads in their wings,
Each one by the fide of it's mate;
When a mill that arifes, a drowfinefs brings
Upon all but the owl and the bat :
When foFt reft is requir'd, and the ftars lend their light,
And all nature lies quiet and ftill ;
When no found breaks the facred repofe of the night,
But, at diftance, the clack of a mill :
With peace for our pillow, and free from all noife,
So that voices in whifpers are known ;
Let us give and receive all the namelefs foft joys
That are mus'd on by lovers alone.
D d SUM-
210
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
W
II. S U M M E R.
HERE the light cannot pierce, in a grove of tall tree*.
With my fair-one as blooming as May,
Undiflurb'd by all found, but the ftghs of the breeze,
Let me pafs the hot noon of the day.
When the fun, left intenfe, to the westward inclines.
For the meadows the groves we'll forfake,
And fee the rays dance as inverted he mines,
On the face of fome river or lake :
Where my faireft and I, on it's verge as we pafi,
(For 'tis (he that muft ftill be my theme)
Our two ihadows may view on the watery glafs,
While the fifh are at play in the ftream.
May the herds ceafe to low, and the lambkins to bleat,
When me fmgs me fome amorous (train ;
All be filent, and hufti'd, unlefs echo repeat
The kind words and fweet founds back again.
And when we return to our cottage at night,
Hand in hand as we fauntering ftray,
Let the moon's filver beams thro' the leaves give us light*
Juft dired us, and chequer our way.
Let the nightingale warble it's notes in our walk,
As thus gently and (lowly we move ;
And let n fmgle thought be exprefs'd in our talk,
But of friendfhip improv'd into love.
Thus enchanted each day with thefe rural delights,
And fecure from ambition's alarms,
Soft love and repofe mall divide aH our nights,
And each morning (hall rife with new charms.
III. AU-
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 211
111. AUTUMN.
fT* H O* the feafons muft alter, ah ! yet let me find,
* What all muft cpnfefs to be rare,
A female ftill chearful, and faithful and kind,
The bleffings of Autumn to Ihare.
Let one fide of our cottage, a flourifhing vine
Overfpread with it's branches and {hade ;
Whofe clutters appear more tranfparent and fine,
As it's leaves are beginning to fade.
When the fruit makes the branches bend down with it's load,
In our orchard furrounded with pales ;
Ju a bed of clean ftraw let our apples be ftow'd,
For a tart that in winter regales.
When the vapours that rife from the earth in the morn
Seem to hang on it's furface like fmoke,
Till difpers'd by the fun that gilds over the corn,
Within doors let us prattle and joke.
But when we fee clear all the hues of the leaves,
And at work in the fields are all hands,
Some in reaping the wheat, others binding the (heaves,
Let us carelefsly ftroll o'er the lands.
HOW pleafmg the fight of the toiling they make,
To colleft what kind Nature has feut !
Heaven grant we may not of their labour partake ;
But, oh ! give us their happy content.
And fometimes on a bank, under made, by a brook,
Let us filently fit at our eafe,.
And there gaze on the ftream, till the fift\ on the hook
Struggles hard to. procure it's releafe.
D d z And
12 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
And now, when the hulbandman fings harveft-home,
And the corn's all got into the houfe ;
When, the long wifh'd-for time of their meeting is come,
To frolick, and feaft, and caroufe :
When the leaves from the trees are begun to be fhed,
And are leaving the branches all bare,
Either llrew'd at the roots, fhrivcll'd, wither'd, and dead,
Or elfe blown to and fro in the air :
When the ways are fo. miry, that bogs they might feem.
And the axle-tree's ready to break,
While the waggoner whittles in flopping his team,,
And then claps the poor jades oil the neck:
Ih the morning let's follow the cry of the hounds,
Or the fearful young covey befet ;
Which tho' tkulking in ftubble and weeds on the grounds,
Are becoming a prey to the net.
Let's enjoy all the pleafure retirement affords,
Still amus'd with thefe innocent fports,
Nor once euvy the pomp of fine ladies and lords,
With their grand entertainments in courts.
In the ev'ning, when lovers are leaning on ftyl.es,
Deep engag'd in fome amorous chat,
.And 'tis very well known by his grin and her fmiles,
What they both have a mind to be at :
To our dwelling, tho' homely, well-pleas'd to repair,
Let our mutual endearments revive ;
And let no iingle aftion or look but declare,
How contented and happy we live.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY 313
Should ideas arife that may ruffle the foul,
Let foft mufick the phantoms remove;
For 'tis harmony only has force to controul.
And unite all the paffions in love.
With her eyes but half open, her cap all awry,
When the lafs is preparing for bed,
And the fieepy dull clown, who fits nodding juft by.
Sometimes roufes and fcratches his head :
In the night when 'tis cloudy, and rainy, and dark f
And the labourers fnore as they lie,
J^ot a noife to difturb us, unlefs a dog bark
In the farm, or the village hard by :
At the time of fweet reft, and of quiet like this,
Ere our eyes are clos'd up in their lids,
JL,et us welcome the feafon, and tafte of that blifs
Which the fun-fliine and day-light forbids !
IV. WINTER.
\\7 HEN the trees are all bare, not a leaf to be feen,
And the meadows their beauty have loft ;
When Nature's difrob'd of her mantle of green,
And the ftreams are faft bound with the froft :
While the peafant ina&ive ftands mivering with cold,
As bleak the winds northernly blow ;
And the innocent flocks run for warmth to the fold,
With their fleeces befprinkled with fnow :
In the yard, when the cattle are fodder'd with ftraw,
And they fend forth their breath in a fteam ;
And the neat-looking dairy-maid fees fhe muft thaw
Flakes of ice that me finds in the cream :
When
I 4 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
When the fweet country-maiden, as frefh as a rofe,
As me carelefsly trips often flides,
And the rufticks laugh loud, if by falling (he mows
All the charms that her modefty hides ;
When the lads and the lafles for company joined.
In a crowd round the embers are met,
Talk of fairies and witches that ride on the wind,
And of ghofts, till they're all in a fweat :
Heav'n grant, in this feafon, it may be my lot.
With the nymph whom I love and admire ;
While the icicles hang from the eaves of my cot,
I may thither in fafety retire !
Where in neatnefs and quiet and free from furprize,
We may live, and no hardfhips endure ;
J'Jor feel any turbulent paffions arife,
But fuch as each other may cure !
VERSES
ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY.
BY MR. J. MACAULAY.
IN vain, dear Flavilla, in vain ftill you try,
Inconftant, each feminine art :
Thofe flutt'ring deluftons may catch the fond eye,
But they ne'er will entangle the heart.
The fetters too {lender affe&ion to bind,
Our reafon will break with difdain :
The heart that to beauty it's freedom refign'd,
From caprice mall receive it again.
Wkile
BfiAUTIES OF POETRY.
While down the light dance, in Pleafure's gay court,
Fantaftick you trip it along ;
The faireft allow'd, where the fair ones refort,
The gayeit of all the gay throng ;
O why in that face, where each beauty is feen,
Should Folly her ftandard difplay ?
Or wild Affe&ation disfigure that mien,
Where the Graces confpicuoufly play ?
Ah, no ! to your greater perfections be juft j
By thefe you may charm at your will :
To youth, wit, and beauty, your conquefts entruft,
Which levity only can kill.
For pleafure in vain the inconflant may rove
Thro' all the wide regions of art :
Their happinefs only can permanent prove,
Whofe tranfports arife from the heart.
RETIREMENT.
AN ODE.
BY DR. BEATTIE.
SHOOK from the purple wings of even
When dews impearl the grove, .
And from the dark'ning verge of heaven
Beams the fweet ftar of Love ;
Laid on a daify-fprinkled green,
Befide a plaintive ftream,
A meek-ey'd youth of ferious mien
Indulged this folemn theme.
Yc
216 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
* Ye cliffs, in hoary grandeur pil'd
' High o'er the glimmering dale !
* Ye groves, along whole windings wild
' Soft fighs the fadd'ning gale !
* Where oft lone Melancholy ftrays,
By wilder 'd Fancy fway'd,
* What time the wan moon's yellow rays
Gleam thro' the chequer'd fhade !
* To you; ye waftes, whofe artlefs charms
* Ne'er drew Ambition's eye,
' 'Scap'd a tumultuous world's alarms^
' To your retreats I fly :
* Deep in your moft fequefter'd bower,
* Let me my woes refign ;
* Where Solitude, mild modeft power,
' Leans on her ivy'd fhrine.
' How mall I woo thee, matchlefs fair,
' Thy heavenly fmile how win !
* Thy fmile, that fmoothes the brow of Care^
' And ftills each ftorm within !
* O wilt thou to thy favourite grove
' Thine ardent votary bring,
* And blefs his hours, and bid them move;
Serene on filent wing !
Oft let Remembrance foothe his mind
' With dreams of former days,
* When foft on Leifure's lap reclin'd,
* He carolPd fprightly lays :
c Blefs'd days ! when Fancy fmil'd at Carey
When Pleafure toy'd with Truth,
* Nor Envy, with malignant glare,
* Had harm'd his fimple youth.
T Twas
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
'Twas then, O Solitude ! to thee
* His early vows were paid,
' From heart fincere, and warm, and free,
1 Devoted to the (hade:
* Ah ! why did Fate his fteps decoy
' In thorny paths to roam,
' Remote from all congenial joy !
' O take thy wanderer home !
' Henceforth thy awful haunts be mine !
* The long abandon'd hill ;
' The hollow cliff, whofe waving pine
' O'erhangs the darkfome rill ;
' Whence the fcar'd owl, on pinions grey,
' Breaks from the ruftling boughs,
' And down the lone vale fails away
' To (hades of deep repofe.
' O while to thee the woodland pours
' It's wildly warbling fong,
' And fragrant from the wade of flowers
' The Zephyr breathes along ;
' Let no rude found invade from far,
' No vagrant foot be nigh,
* No ray from Grandeur's gilded car
* Flam on the ftartled eye !
' Yet if fome pilgrim, 'mid the glade,
' Thy hallow'd bowers explore,
' O guard from" harm his hoary head,
And liften to his lore !
' For he of joys divine (hall tell,
* That wean from earthly woe,
* And triumph o'er the mighty fpell
' That chains this heart below.
E e 'For
2i8 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
' For me no more the path invites
* Ambition loves to tread ;
' No more I climb thofe toilfome heights,
' By guileful Hope mifled :
* Leaps my fond flutt'ring heart no more
' To Mirth's enlivening ftrain ;
' For prefent pleafure foon is o'er>
' And all the paft is vain I*
AMYNTOR AND THEODORA;
OR, THE HERMIT.
IN THREE CANTOS.
TO MRS. MALLET.
r p H OU faithful partner of a heart thy own,
Whofe pain or pleafure fprings from thine alone j
Thou, true as honour, as companion kind,
That in fweet union harmonize thy mind;
Here, while thy eyes for fad Amyntor's woe,
And Theodora's wreck, with tears overflow,
O may thy friend's warm wifli, to Heav'n preferr'd
For thee, for him by gracious Heav'n be heard !
So her fair hour of fortune fliall be thine
Unmix'd, and all Amyntor's fondnefs mine:
So thro' long vernal life, with blended ray,
Shall Love light up, and Friend/hip clofe our day ;
Till fummon'd late this lower heav'n to leave,
One figh mall end us, and one earth receive !
FA R in the wat'ry wafte, where his broad wave
From world to world the vaft Atlantick rolls
On from the piny mores of Labrador
To frozen Thule eaft, her airy height
Aloft
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 219
Aloft to heav'n remotefl Kilda lifts, 5
Laft of the fea-girt Hebrides, that guard,
In filial train, Britannia's parent coaft.
Thrice happy land ! tho' freezing on the verge
Of Arftick fkies, yet blamelefs ftill of arts
That polifh to deprave eacli fofter clime, 10
With fimple nature, fimple virtue, blefs'd !
Beyond Ambition's walk, where never War
Uprear'd his fanguine ftandard, nor unfheath'd,
For wealth or pow'r, the defolating fword ;
Where Luxury, foft Syren, who around ic
To thoufand nations deals her nedar'd cup
Of pleafing bane, that foothes at once and kills,
Is yet a name unknown ; but calm content,
That lives to reafon, ancient faith, that binds
The plain community of guilelefs hearts 20
In love and union, innocence of ill,
Their guardian genius ; thefe the pow'rs that rule
This little world, to all it's fons fecure,
Man's happieft life ; the foul ferene and found
From paffion's rage, the body from difeafe, 25
Red on each cheek behold the rofe of health,
Firm in each finew Vigour's pliant fpring,
By temp'rance brac'd to peril and to pain,
Amid the floods they ftem, or on the fleep
Of upright rocks their ftraining fteps furmount, 30
For food or paftime j thefe light up their morn,
And clofe their eve in flumber fweetly deep,
Beneath the north, within the circling fwell
Of ocean's raging found ; but laft and beft,
What Av'rice, what Ambition, mall not know, 35
True Liberty is theirs, the heav'n-fent gueft,
Who in the cave, or on th* uncultur'd wild,
With Independence dwells and peace of mind,
In youth, io age, their fun that never fets.
Daughter of Heav'n and Nature, deign thy aid, 40
E e 2 Spontaneous
220 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Spontaneous Mufe ! O, whether from the depth
Of ev'ning foreit, brown with broadeft made,
Or from the brow fublime of vernal Alp
As morning dawns, or from the vale at noon,
By fome foft ftream that flides with liquid foot 45
Thro' bow'ry groves, where Infpiration fits
And liftens to thy lore, aufpicious come !
O'er thefe wild waves, o'er this unharbour'd more,
Thy wing high-hovering fpread, and to the gale,
The Boreal fpirit breathing lib'ral round 50
From echoing hill to hill, the lyre attune
With anfw'ring cadence free, as beft befeems
The tragick theme my plaintive verfe unfolds.
Here good Aurelius and a fcene more wild
The world around, or deeper folitude 1 55
AfRiftion could not find Aurelius here,
(By fate unequal and the crjme of war
Expell'd his native home, the facred vale
That faw him blefs'd, npw wretched and unknown !)
Wore out the flow remains of fetting life 60
In bitternefs of thought ; and with the furge,
And with the founding ftorm, his murmur'd moan
Would often mix Oft as remembrance fad
Th' unhappy paft recall'd, a faithful wife,
Whom love firft chofe, whom reafon long endear'd, 65
His foul's companion and his fofter friend,
With one fair daughter, in her rofy prime,
Her dawn of op'ning charms, defencelefs left
Within a tyrant's grafp ! his foe profefs'd,
By civil madnefs, by intemp'rate zeal 70
For diff'rir.g rites,, imbitter'd into hate
And cruelty remorfelefs ! Thus he liv'd,
If this was life ! to load the blaft with fighs,
Hung o'er it's edge, to fwell the flood with tears,
At midnight hour; for midnight frequent heard 75
The lonely mourner, defolate of heart,
Pour
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 221
Pour all the hufband, all the father forth
In unavailing anguifh, ftretch'd along
The naked beach, or fhiv'ring on the cliff,
Smote with the wint'ry pole in bitter ftcrm, 80
Hail, fnow, and ftiow'r, dark-drifting round his head !
Such were his hours, till time, the wretch's friend,
Life's great phyfician, fkill'd alone to clofe,
Where forrow long has wak'd, the weeping eye,
And from the brain, with baleful vapours black, 85
Each fullen fpe&re chafe, his balm at length,
Lenient of pain, thro' every fever'd pulfe
With gentleA hand infus'd. A penfive calm
Arofe, but unaffur'd ; as after winds
Of ruffling wing the fea fubfiding flow 90
Still trembles from the ftorm. Now Re*afon firft
Her throne rcfuming, bid Devotion raife
To heav'n his eye, and thro' the turbid mifts,
By fenfe dark-drawn between, adoring own,
Sole arbiter of fate, one Caufe Supreme, 95
All-juft, All-wife, who bids what ftill is belt
In cloud or funfhine ; whofe fevereft hand
Wounds but to heal, and chaftens to amend.
Thus in his bofom, ev'ry weak excefs,
The rage of grief, the fellnefs of revenge, loo
To healthful meafure tempered and reduc'd
By Virtue's hand, and in her bright'ning beam
Each error clear'd away, as fen-born fogs
Before th' afcending fun ; thro' faith he lives
Beyond Time's bounded continent, the walks 105
Of Sin and Death : anticipating heav'n
In pious hope, he feems already there,
Safe on her facred more ; and fees beyond,
In radiant view, the world of light and love,
Where Peace delights to dwell ; where one fair morn no
Still orient fmiles, and one diffufive fpring,
That fears no ftorm, and mall no winter know,
Th' im-
zz BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
Th' immortal year empurples. If a figh
Yet murmurs from his breaft, 'tis for the pangs
Thofe deareft names, a wife, a child, muft feel,
Still fuff'ring in his fate ; 'tis for a foe,
Who, deaf himfelf to mercy, may of Heav'n
That mercy, when moft wanted, afk in vain.
The fun, now ftation'd with the lucid Twins,
O'er ev'ry fouthern clime had pour'd profufe
The rofy year, and in each pleating hue
That greens the leaf, or thro' the blofibm glows
With florid light, his fairelt month array'd ;
While Zephyr, while the filver-footed dews,
Her foft attendants, wide o'er field and grove
Frefh fpirit breathe, and fhed perfuming balm :
Nor here, in this chill region, on the brow
Of winter's wafte dominion, is unfelt
The ray ethereal, or unhail'd the rife
Of her mild reign. From warbling vale and hill,
With wild thyme flow'ring, betony and balm,
Blue lavender, and carmel's fpicy root *,
Song, fragrance, health, ambrofiate ev'ry breeze.
But high above, the feafon full exerts
It's vernant force in yonder peopled rocks,
To whofe wild folitude, from worlds unknown,
The birds of paflage tranfmigrating come,
Unnumber'd colonies of foreign wing,
At Nature's fummons, their aerial ftate
Annual to found, and in bold voyage fleer
O'er this wide ocean, thro' yon pathlefs fky,
One certain flight to one appointed fliore, /
By Heav'n's directive fpirit here to raife
Their temporary realm, and form fecure,
* The root of this plant, otherwife named argatilis fylvaticvs, is aro-
matick, and by the natives reckoned cordial to the ftomach. Sec Mar-
lin'j Wefiern Ifles of Scotland, p. j8o.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 223
Where food awaits them copious from the wave, 14.5
And fhelter from the rock, their nuptial leagues ;
Each tribe apart, and all on tafks of love,
To hatch the pregnant egg, to rear and guard
Their helplefs infants, pioufly intent.
Led by the day abroad, with lonely ftep, Ijo
And ruminating fweet and bitter thought,
Aurelius, from the weftern bay, his eye
Now rais'd to this amulive fcene in air,
With wonder mark'd ; now caft with level ray
Wide o'er the moving wildernefs of waves, 155
From pole to pole thro' boundlefs fpace diffus'd,
Magnificently dreadful ! where at large
Leviathan, with each inferior name
Of fea-born kinds, ten thoufand thoufand tribes,
Finds endlefs range for pafture and for fport. l5o
Amaz'd he gazes, and adoring owns
The Hand Almighty, who it's channell'd bed
Immeafurable funk, and pour'd abroad,
Fenc'd with eternal mounds the fluid fphere,
With ev'ry wind to waft large commerce on, 165
Join pole to pole, confociate fever'd worlds,
And link in bonds of intercourfe and love
Earth's univerfal family. Now rofe
Sweet ev'ning's folemn hour : the fun declin'd
Hung golden o'er this nether firmament, 170
Whofe broad cerulean mirror, calmly bright,
Gave back his beamy vifage to the fky
With fplendour undiminim'd, and each cloud,
White, azure, purple, glowing round his throne
In fair aerial landfcape. Here, alone, 175
On earth's remoteft verge Aurelius breath'd
The healthful gale, and felt the fmiling fcene
With awe-mix'd pleafure mufing as he hung
In filence o'er the billows hum'd beneath ;
When, lo ! a found amid the wave- worn rocks, 180
Deaf-
4 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Deaf-murmuring rofe, and plaintive roll'd along
From cliff to cavern, as the breath of winds,
At twilight hour, remote and hollow heard
Thro' wintry pines high waving o'er the fteep
Of iky-crown'd Apenine : the fea-pie ceas'd
At once to warble.; fcreaming from his neft
The fulmar foar'd,. and mot a weflward flight
From more to fea ; on came, before her hour,
Invading Night, and hung the troubled iky
With fearful blacknefs round * ^ fad Ocean's face
A curling undulation fluv'ry fwept
From wave to wave ; and now impetuous rofe
Thick cloud and ftorm, and ruin on his wing,
The raging South, and headlong o'er the deep
Fell horrible, with broad defcending blaft.
Aloft, and fafe beneath a fhelt'ring cliff,
Whofe mofs-grown fummit on the diftant flood
Projected frowns, Aurelius flood appall'd,
His ilunn'd ear fmote with all the thund'ring main,
His eye with mountains furging to the ftars,
Commotion infinite ! Where yon laft wave
Blends with the fky it's foam, a mip in view
Shoots fudden forth, fteep-falling from the clouds,
Yet diftant feen and dim, till onward borne
Before the blaft, each growing fail expands,
Each maft afpires, and all th' advancing frame
Bounds on his eye diftinct : with marpen'd ken
It's courfe he watches, and in awful thought
That Pow'r invokes whofe voice the wild winds hear,
Whofe nod the farge reveres, to look from heav'n,
And fave who elie mult perilh, vvretclred men,
In this dark hour, amid the dread abyfs,
With fears amaz'd, by horrors compsfs'd round !
But, O ! ill-omen'ci, death-devoted heads !
* Sift Martin's Voyage to St. K.;;<b., p 5?.
BEAUTIES OF POETRYr 22 j.
For Death beftrides the billow, nor your own z 1 5
Nor others offer'd vows can flay the flight
Of infant Fate. And, lo ! his fecret feat,
Where never fun-beam glimmer'd, deep amidil
A cavern's jaws voraginous and vail,
The llormy Genius of the deep forfakes, a 20
And o'er the waves, that roar beneath his frown>
Afcending baleful, bids the tempeil fpread,
Turbid and terrible with hail and rain,
It's blackeft pinion, pour it's loud'ning blafts
In whirlwind forth, and from their loweft depth 425
Upturn the world of waters. Round and round
The tortur'd fhip, at his imperious call,
Is wheel'd in dizzy whirl; her guiding helm
Breaks (hort; her mails in cradling ruin fall,
And each rent fail flies loofe in diilant air. 230
Now, fearful moment ! o'er the found'ring hull
Half ocean heav'd, in one broad billowy curve
Steep from the clouds with horrid made impends-
Ah ! fave them, Heav'n! it burfls in deluge down
With boundlefs undulation! ihore and fky 23-
Rebellow to the roar: at once ingulph'd,
Veflel and crew beneath it's torment fweep
Are funk, to rife no more! Aurelius wept ;
The tear unbidden dew'd his hoary cheek :
He turn'd his ftep; he fled the fatal fcene, 240
And brooding in Atd filence o'er the fight
To him alone difclofs'd, his wounded heart
Pour'd out to Heav'n in fighs: ' Thy will be done,
' Not mine, Supreme Difpofer of Events!
* But death demands a tear, and man mufl feel 245
f For human woes : the reit fubmiflion hecks/
Not diflant far, where this receding bay *
Looks northward on the pole, a rocky arch
* See Marian's Voyage to St, Killa, p. ao
F f Expand?
22 6 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Expands it's felf-pois'd concave; as the gate
Ample, and broad, and pillar'd mafTy-proof,
OF fome unfolding temple : on it's height
Is heard the tread of daily-climbing flocks,
That o'er the green roof fpread, their fragrant food
Untended crop. As thro* this cavern'd path,
Involv'd in pcnfive thought, Aurelius pafs'd,
Struck with fad echoes from the founding vault
Remurmur'd ihrill, he ftopp'd, he rais'd his head,
And faw th' affembled natives iu a ring,
With wonder and with pity bending o'er
A fhipwreck'd man. All motionlefs on earth
He lay : the living luftre from his eye,
The vermil hue extinguiih'd from his cheek,
And in their place, on each chill feature fpread,
The fhadowy cloud and ghaftlinefs of death
With pale fufFufion fate. So looks the moon,
So faintly wan, thro' hov'ring mifts at eve,
Grey autumn's train. Fait from his hairs difUH'd
The briny wave, and clofe within his grafp
Was clench'd a broken oar, as one who long
Had ftemm'd the flood with agonizing breaft,
And ilriiggled firong for life. Of youthful prime
He feem'd, and built by Nature's noblefl hand,
Where bold proportion and where foft'ning grace
Mix'd in each limb, and harmoniz'd his frame.
Aurelius from the breathlefs clay his eye
To ITeav'n, imploring, rais'd ; then, for he knew
That life, within her central cell retir'd,
May lurk unfeen, diminifh'd but not quench'd,
He bid tranfport it fpeedy thro' the vale
To his poor cell, that lonely flood and low,
Safe from the north,, beneath a floping hill ;
An antique frame, orbicular, and rais'd
On columns rude ; it's roof with rev'rend mofs
Light-fhaded o'er j it's front in ivy hid,
Plate HI.
I u Aw Art *rrt.bT Hwrtfui ,1 (T Feb.1.1781 . /////. yW/Wr^'/;
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 217
That mantling crept aloft. With pious hand 285
They turn'd, they chafd his frozen limbs, and fum'd
The vap'ry air with aromatick fmells j
Then drops of fov'reign efficacy, drawn
From mountain plants, within his lips infus'd.
Slow from the mortal trance, as men from dreams 290
Of direful vifion, fhudd'ring he awakes,
While life to fcarce-felt motion faintly lifts
His flutt'ring pulfe, and gradual o'er his cheek
The rofy current wins it's refluent way.
Kecov'ring to new pain, his eyes he turn'd 295
Severe on heav'n, on the furrounding hills
With twilight dim, and on the crowd unknown,
Diflblv'd in tears around, then clos'd again,
As loathing light and life. At length, in founds
Broken and eager, from his heaving breaft 3co
Diftraclion fpoke ' Down, down with ev'ry fail !
* Mercy, f\veet Heav'n !rr-Ha ! now whole ocean fweeps
* In tempefl o'er our heads rMy foul's laft hope !
4 We will not part Help ! help ! yon wave, behold !
' That fwells betwixt, has borne her from my fight! 305
O for a fun to light this black abyfs !
* Gone loft for ever loft !' He cea&'d. Amaze
And trembling on the pale affiftants fell ;
Whom now with greeting and the words of peace
Aurelius bid depart. A paufe enfu'd, 310
Mute, mournful, folemn. On the ftranger's face
Obfervant, anxious, hung his fix'd regard ;
Watchful, his ear each murmur, ev'ry breath,
Attentive feiz'd ; now eager to begin
Confoling fpeech, now doubtful to invade 315
The facred Jilence due to ?rief fuprem?|
Then thus at laft : ' O, from devouring feas
' By miracle efcap'd ! if, with thy life,
* Thy fenfe, return'd, can yet difcern the Hand,
' All-wonderful, that thro' yon raging fea, 320
F f a Von
228 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Yon whirling weft of tempeft, led thee fafe,
' That 'Hand divine with grateful awe confefs,
* With proftrate thanks adore! When thou, alas !
* Waft number'd with the dead, and clos'd within
* Th' unfathonrd gulph ; when human hope was fled, 325
* And human help in vain th' Almighty Voice
* ^Then bade Deftru&ion fpare, and bade the deep
f Yield up it's prey ; that by his mercy fav'd,
' That mercy, thy fair life's remaining race,
4 A monument of wonder as of love, 330
' May juftify to all the fans of men,
* Thy brethren, ever prefent in their need!
* Such pratfe delights him moft-
He hears me not.
' Some fecret anguifh, fome tranfcendent woe, 335
' Sits heavy on his heart, and from his eyes,
* Thro' the clos'd lids, now rolls in bitter ftream !
Yet fpeak thy foul, affliaed as thou art !
* For know, by mournful privilege, 'tis mine,
* Myfelf moft wretched, and in forrow's ways 340
.* Severely train'd, to mare in ev'ry pang
* The wretched feel, to foothe the fad of heart,
* To number tear for tear, and groan for groan,
' With ev'ry fon and daughter of diftrefs.
* Speak then, and give thy lab'ring bofom vent : 345
* My pity is, my friendmip mall be, thine,
* To calm thy pain, and guide thy virtue back,
* Thro' reafon's paths, to happinefs and heav'n 1'
The Hermit thus: and, after fome fad paufe
Of mufing; wonder, thus the man unknown. 350
* What have I heard! On this untravell'd Ihor.e,
f Nature's laft limit, hemm'd with oceans round
* Howling and harbourlefs, beyond all faith
* A comforter to find, whofe language wears
' The garb of civil life ; a friend whofe breaft 355
' The gracious meltings of ftveet pity move !
f Amaze-
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
229
f Amazement all ! my grief to filence charm'd,
c Is loft in wonder. But, thou good unknown!
' If woes for ever wedded to defpair,
' That wi{h no cure, are thine, behold, in me 36*
' A meet companion: one whom earth and Heav'n
' Combine to curfe ; whom never future morn
' Shall light to joy, nor ev'ning with repofs
* Defcending made O, fon of this wild world!
' From focial converfe tho' for ever barr'd, 365
* Tho' chill'd with endlefs winter from the pole,
Yet warm'd by goodnefs, form'd to tender fenfe
* Of human woes beyond what milder climes,
f By fairer funs attemper'd, courtly boaft;
' O fay, did e'er thy breaft, in youthful life, 37^
' Touch'd by a beam from beauty all-divine,
' Did e'er thy bofom her fweet influence own,
* In pleafmg tumult pour'd thro' ev'ry vein,
* And panting at the heart, when firft our eye
' Receives impreffion ? then, as paffion grew, 375
' Did Heav'n, confenting to thy wifli, indulge
* That blifs no wealth can bribe, no pow'r beftow,
* That blifs of angels, love by love repaid?
* Heart ftreaming full to heart in mutual flow
* Of faith and friendfhip, tendernefs and truth! 380
* If thefe thy fate diftinguim'd, thou wilt then,
' My joys conceiving, image my defpair,
* How total ! how extreme ! for this, all this,
* Late my fair fortune, wreck'd on yonder flood,
' Lies loft and bury'd there! O, awful Heav'n ! 385
* Who to the wind and to the whelming wave
' Her blamelefs head devoted, thou alone
' Canft tell what I have loft ! O, ill-flair' d maid !
* O, moft undone Amyntor!' Sighs and tears,
And heart-heav'd groans, at this his voice fupprefs'd : 390
The reft was agony and dumb defpair.
Now o'er their heads damp night her flormy gloom
Spread,
o BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Spread, ere the glimm'ring twilight was expir'd,
With huge and heavy horror clofmg round
In doubling clouds on clouds. The mournful fcene,
The moving tale, Aurelius deeply felt;
And thus reply'd, as one in nature flcill'd,
With foft-afTenting forrow in his look,
And words to foothe, not combat hopelefs love.
Amyntor! by that Heav'n who fees thy tears,,
' By faith and friendfhip's fympathy divine,
' Could I the forrows heal I more than fliare,
' This bofom, trull me, fhould from thine transfer
It's ftiarpeft grief. Such grief, alas! how juft !
' How long in filent anguifti to defceud,
f When reafon and when fondnefs o'er the tomb
Are fellow-mourners ! He who can refign,
? Has never lov'd ; and wert thou to the fenfe,
The facred feeling of a lofs like thine,
Cold and infenfible, thy breaft were then
No manfion for humanity, or thought
Of noble aim. Their dwelling is with love
' And tender pity, whofe kind tear adorns
The clouded cheek, and fancHfies the foul
They foften, not fubdue. We both will mix,
Ecr her thy virtue lov'd, thy truth laments,
Our focial fighs ; and, ftill as morn unveils
The bright'ning hill, or ev'ning's mifty made
It's brow obfcures, her gracefulnefs of form,
Her mind all lovely, each ennobling each,
< Shall be our frequent theme : then {halt thou hear
'? From me, in fad return, a tale of woes
So, terrible Amyntor, thy pain'd heart,
Amid it's own, will fliudder at the ills
That mine has bled with '.But, behold I the dark
' And^ drowfy hour fteals faft upon our talk :
Here break we off; and thou, fad mourner ! try
Thy weary limbs, thy wounded mind, to balm
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
' With timely fleep : each gracious wing from heav'n,
' Of thofe that minifter to erring man,
Near-hov'ring, hu/h thy paffions into calm ;
' Serene thy flumbers with prefented fcenes
' Of brighteft vifion ; whifper to thy heart
* That holy peace which goodnefs ever (hares;
' And to us both be friendly as we need!'
CANTO II.
^ midnight rofe, and o'er the gen'ral fcene,
Air, ocean, earth, drew broad her blackeft veil,
Vapour and cloud. Around th* unfleeping ifle
Yet howl'd the whirlwind, yet the billow groan'd,
And in mix'd horror to Amyntor's ear
Borne thro' the gloom, his mrinking fenfe appall'd.
Shook by each blaft, and fwept by ev'ry wave,
Again pale mem'ry labours in the ftorm;
Again from her is torn whom more than life
His fondnefs lov'd. And now another fhow'r Jo
Of forrow o'er the dear unhappy maid
EfFufive ftream'd, till late, thro' ev'ry pow'r
The foul fubdu'd funk fad to flow repofe ;
And all her dark'ning fcenes, by dim degrees,
Were quench'd in total night: a paufe from pain 1
Not long to laft ; for Fancy, oft awake
While Reafon fleeps, from her illufive cell
CalPd up wild fhapes of vifionary fear,
Of vifionary blifs, the hour of reft
To mock with mimick fhews. And, lo ! the deeps 20
In airy tumult fwell : beneath a hill
Amyntor heaves off overwhelming feas,
Or rides, with dizzy dread, from cloud to cloud.
The billow's back : anon, the fhadowy world
Shifts to fome ooundlefs continent unknown, 15
Where folitary, o'er the ftarlefs void,
Dumb
i 3 2 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Dumb Silence broods. Thro' heaths of dreary lengthy
Slow on he drags his flagg'ring flep infirm
With breathlefs toil; hears torrent floods afar
Roar thro' the wild; and j4 plung'd in central caves, 36
Falls headlong many a fathom into night.
Yet there, at once, in all her living charms,
And bright'ning with their glow the brown abyfs,
Rofe Theodora. Smiling, in her eye
Sate, without cloud, the foft-confenting foul> 35
That, guilt unknowing, had no wilh to hide ;
A fpring of fudden myrtles flow'ring round
Their walk embower'd ; while nightingales beneath
Sung fpoufals, as along th' enamell'd turf
They feem'd to fly, and interchang'd their fouls, 49
Melting in mutual foftnefs. Thrice his arms
The fair encircled ; thrice me fled his grafp,
And fading into darknefs mix'd with air
O, turn! O, ftay thy flight !' fo loud he cry'd,
Sleep and it's train of humid vapours fled. 4$
He groan'd, he gaz'd around ; his inward fenfe
Yet glowing with the vifion's vivid beam,
Still on his eye the hov'ring fhadow blaz'd ;
Her voice ftill murmur'd in his tinkling ear,
Grateful deception ! till returning thought 5<3
Left broad awake, amid th' incumbent lour
Of mute and mournful night, again he felt
His grief inflam'd throb frefh in ev'ry vein.
To frenzy flung, upftarting from his couch,
The vale, the more, with darkling ftep he roam'd, 5$
Like fome drear fpectre from the grave unbound ;
Then foaling yonder cliff", prone o'er it's brow
He hung, in aft to plunge amid the flood.
Scarce from that height difcern'd. Nor Reafon's voice,
Nor ow'd fubmiflion to the will of Heav'n, 60
Reftrains him ; but as pafllon whirls his thought,
Fond expectation, that perchance efcap'd,
Tho'
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 233
THo^ pafiing all belief, the frailer fluff,
To which himfelf had borne th' unhappy fair,
May yet be feen. Around o'er fea and more 65
He roll'd his ardent eye, but nought around
On land or wave within his ken appears,
Nor fluff, nor floating corfe, on which to fhed
The laft fad tear, and lay the cov'ring mold !
And now, wide open'd by the wakeful hours 70
Heav'n's orient gate, forth on her progrefs comes
Aurora fmiling, and her purple lamp
Lifts high o'er earth and fea ; while, all unveil'd,
The vaft horizon on Amyntor's eye
Pours full it's fcenes of wonder, wildly great, 75
Magnificently various. From this fteep
Diffus'd immenfe, in rolling profped lay
The northern deep : amidft, from fpace to fpace,
Her num'rous ifles, rich gems of Albion's crown,
As flow th' afcending mifts difperfe in air, 80
Shoot gradual from her bafom ; and beyond,
Like diilant clouds blue-floating on the verge
Of ev'ning ikies, break forth the dawning hills.
A thoufand landfcapes, barren feme and bare,
Rock pil'd on rock, amazing, up to heav'n, 8;
Of horrid grandeur : fome with founding afh,
Or oak broad fhadowing, or the fpiry growth
Of waving pine high-plum'd ; and all beheld
More lovely in the fun's adorning beam,
Who now, fair rifing o'er yon eaitern cliff, 90
The vernal verdure tinctures gay with gold.
Meanwhile Aurelius, wuk'd from fweet repofe,
Repofe that Temp'rance fheds in timely dews
On all who live to her, his mt-urnful guelt
Came forth to hail, as hofpitable rites 95
And virtue's rule enjoin ; but firll to Him,
Spring of all charity, who gave the heart
With kindly fenfe to glow, his matin fong,
G g Superior
234 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Superior duty, thus the fage addrefs'd :
' Fountain of light ! from whom yon orient fun
' Firft drew his fplendour ! Source of life and love !
* Whofe fmile now wakes o'er earth's rekindling face
' The boundlefs blufh of fpring ; O Firft and Beft !
' Thy eflence tho' from human fight and fearch,
* Tho' from the climb of all created thought
' Ineffably remov'd, yet man himfelf,
* Thy loweft child of Reafon, man may read
' Unbounded pow'r, intelligence fupreme,
* The Maker's hand, on all his works imprefs'd
* In characters coeval with the fun,
And with the fun to laft ; from world to world,
' From age to age, in ev'ry clime, difclos'd,
* Sole revelation thro' all time the fame.
' Hail, univerfal Goodnefs ! with full ftream
f For ever flowing from beneath the throne
' Thro' earth, air, fea, to all things that have life ;
' From all that live on earth, in air and fea,
* The great community of Nature's fons,
' To thee, firft Father, ceafelefs praife afcend !
* And in the rev'rent hymn my grateful voice
* Be duly heard, among thy works not leaft,
' Nor loweft, with intelligence inform'd,
' To know thee, and adore ; with free-will crown'd,
' Where Virtue leads, to follow and be blefs'd.
' O, whether by thy prime decree ordain 'd
' To days of future life ; or whether now
' The mortal hour is inftant, Hill vouchfafe,
' Parent and friend, to guide me blamelefs on
r Thro' this dark fcene of error and of ill,
* Thy truth to light me, and thy peace to chear :
' All elfp, of me unaflc'd, thy will fupreme
' Withold or grant, and let that will be done.'
This from the foul in filence brenth'd fmcere,
The hill's fteep fide with firm elaftjck ftep
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 235
Tie lightly fcal'd ; fuch health the frugal board, 135
The morn's frelh breath that exercife refpires
In mountain walks, and confcience free from blame,
Our life's heft cordial can thro' age prolong.
There, loft in thought, and felf- abandon 'd, lay
The man unknown, nor heard approach his hoft, 140
Nor rais'd his drooping head. Aurelius, mov'd
By foft companion, which the favage fcene>
Shut up and barr'd amid furrounding feas
From human commerce, quicken'd into fenfe
Of {harper forrow, thus apart began. 145
' O fight, that from the eye of Wealth or Pride,
' E'en in their hour of vaineft thought, might draw
' A feeling tear ! whom yefterday beheld
'* By love and fortune crown'd, of all poflefs'd
' That fancy, tranc'd in fairell vifion, dreams ; l^o
* Now loft to all, each hope that foftens life,
' Each blifs that chears ; there on the damp earth fpread,
* Beneath a heav'n unknown, behold him now !
' And let the gay, the fortunate, the great,
' The proud, be taught what now the wretched feel> 155
' The happy have to fear. O man forlorn !
* Too plain I read thy heart, by fondnefs drawn
' To this fad fcene, to fights that but inflame
* It's tender anguifh !'
* Hear me, Heav'n' ! exclaim'd 1 60
The frantick mourner. ' Could that anguifh rife
' To madnefs and to mortal agony,
* I yet would blefs my fate ; by one kind pang,
* From what I feel, the keener pangs of thought
' For ever freed. To me the fun is loll ; 165
' To me the future flight of days and years
' Is darknefs, is despair But who complains,
' Forgets that he can die. O, fainted maid !
' For fuch in heav'n thou art, if from thy feat
' Of holy reft, beyond thefe changeful flues, 170
G g 2 'If
236 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
* If names on earth moft facred once and dear,
' A. lover and a friend, if yet thefe names
' Can wake thy pity> dart one guiding ray
' To light me where, in cave or creek, are thrown
' Thy lifelefs limbs, that I O grief fupreme 1 175
* O fate remorfelefs ! was thy lover fav'd
' For fuch a tafk ! that I thofe dear remains,
' With maiden rites adorn'd, at laft may lodge
' Beneath the halknv'd vault, and weeping there
' O'er thy cold urn, await the hour to clofe 180
' Thefe eyes in peace, and mix this duft with thine !*
' Such, and fo 4Jre, J reply'd the cordial friend
In Pity's look and language, ' fuch, alas !
' Were late my thoughts : whate'er the human heart
' Can moft afflict, grief, agony, defpair, 185
'.Have all been mine, and with alternate war
' This bofom ravag'd. Hearken then, good youth !
' My ftory mark ; and, from another's fate,
' Pre-eminently wretched, learn thy own,
' Sad as it fecms, to balance and to bear ! 190
In me, a m?.n behold whofe morn ferene,
' Whofe noon of better life, with honour fpent,
' In virtuous pnrpnfe or in honeft aft,
' Drew fair diilinclion on my publick name
' From thofe among mankind, the nobler few, 195-
* Whofe praife is fame ; but there, in that true fource
* Whence happinefs with pureil ftream defcends,
' In home-found peace and love, fupremely blefs'd !
' Union of hearts, confent cf wedded wills,
' By friendmip knit, by mutual faith fecur'd, 200
e Our hopes and fears, our earth and heav'n, the fame !
' At laft, Amyntor, in my failing age
' Fall'n from fuch height, and with the felon herd,
' Robbers and outlaws, number'd thought that Hill
' Stings deep the heart, and cloathes the cheek with fhame ! 205
' Then doom'U to feel v^hat guilt alone fhould fear,
The
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 237
* The hand of publick vengeance ; arm'd by rage,
' Not juftice ; rais'd to injure, not redrefs ;
* To rob, not guard ; to ruin, not defend ;
* And all, O fov'reign Reafon ! all deriv'd 210
' From pow'r that claims thy warrant to do wrong !
' A right divine to violate unblam'd
* Each law, each rule, that, by himfelf obferv'd,
' The God prefcribes whofe fanclion kings pretend !
O Charles ! O monarch ! in long exile train'd, 215
' Whole hopelefs years th' oppreflbr's hand to know
' How hateful and how hard ; thyfelf reliev'd,
' Now hear ! thy people, groaning under wrongs
' Of equal load, adjure thee by thofe days
' Of want and woe, of danger and defpair, 220
' As Heav'n has thine, to pity their diftrefs !
4 Yet from the plain good meaning of my heart
' Be far th' unhallow'd licenfe of abufe ;
* Be far the bitternefs of faintly zeal,
* That impious hid behind the patriot's name 215
' Mafques hate and malice to the legal throne,
' In juftice founded, circumfcrib'd by laws,
' The prince to guard but guard the people too j
' Chief, one prime good to guard inviolate,
* Soul of all worth, and fum of human blifs, 230
' Fair Freedom ! birthright of all thinking kinds ;
Reafon's Great Charter, from no king deriv'd,
* By none to be rcclaim'd, man's right divine ;
' Which God, who gave, indelible pronounc'd !
' But if, difclaiming this his heav'n-own'd right, 235
This firft, belt tenure, by which monarchs rule ;
' If, meant, the bleffing, he becomes the bane,
' The wolf, not (hepherd, of his fubjea-flock,
' To grind and tear, not flicker and protect,
Wide-wafting where he reigns to fuch a prince 24*
' Allegiance kept were treafon to mankind,
* And loyalty revolt from virtue's law :
For
238 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
* For fay, Amyntor! does juft Heaven enjoin
* That we mould homage hell ? or bend the knee
4 To earthquake or volcano, when they rage,
* Rend earth's firm frame, and in one boundlefs grave
* Ingulph their thoufands ? Yet, O grief to tell !
Yet fuch, of late, o'er this devoted land
* Was publick rule. Our fervile ftripes and chains,
* Our lighs and groans refounding from the deep
Of wint'ry hill, or wafte untravell'd heath,
' Laft refuge of our wretchednefs, not guilt,
' Proclaim'd it loud to Heav'n : the arm of pow'r
' Extended fatal but to crufli the head
' It ought to fcreen, or with a parent's love
Reclaim from error ; not with deadly hate,
* The tyrant's law, exterminate who err.
' In this wide ruin were my fortunes funk ;
' Myfelf, as one contagious to his kind,
* Whom Nature, whom the focial life, renounc'd,
* Unfummon'd, f unimpleaded, was to death,
* To fhameful death ! adjudg'd ; againft my head
' The price of blood proclaim'd, and at mv heels
' Let loofe the murd'rous cry of human hounds :
' And this blind fury of commiffion'd rage,
' Of party vengeance, to a fatal foe,
' Known and abhorr'd for deeds of direft name,
' Was giv'n in charge ; a foe whom blood-ftain'd zeal
' For what O hear it not, all-righteous Heav'n !
' Left thy rous'd thunder burft for what was deem'd
' Religion's caufe, had favag'd to a brute
' More deadly fell than hunger ever ftung
* To prowl in wood or wild. His band he arm'd,
* Sons of perdition ! miscreants with all guilt
' Familiar, and in each dire art of death
* Train'd ruthlefs up : as tigers on their prey
' On my defencelefs lands thofe fiercer beafts
1 Devouring fell j nor ihat'feiquefter'd ihade,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 239
* That fvveet recefs, where Love and Virtue long
' In happy league had dwelt, which War itfelf 280
< Beheld with rev'rence, could their fury 'fcape ;
' Defpoil'd, defac'd, and wrapp'd in waiteful flames:
' For flame and rapine their confuming march
* From hill to vale by daily ruin mark'd.
' So, borne by winds along, in baleful cloud, 28$
* Embody'd locufts from the wing defcend
' On herb, fruit, flow'r, and kill the rip'ning year ;
* While, wafle behind, deftruftion on their track
' And ghaftly famine wait. My wife and child
* He dragg'd, the ruffian dragg'd O Heav'n ! do I, 299
' A man, furvive to tell it ! At the hour
' Sacred to reft, amid the fighs and tears
* Of all who faw and curs'd his coward rage,
' He forc'd, unpitying, from their midnight-bed,
' By menace, or by torture, from their fears 295
' My laft retreat to learn, and ftill detains
' Beneath his roof accurs'd, that beft of wive^
' Emilia! and our only pledge of love,
' My blooming Theodora ! Manhood there
' And nature bleed. Ah ! let not bufy thought 300
' Search thither, but avoid the fatal coaft :
' Difcov'ry there, once more my peace of mind
' Might wreck, once more to defperation fmk
* My hopes in Heav'n !' He faid : but, O fad Mufe !
Can all thy moving energy of pow'r 305
To make the heart, to freeze th' arrefled blood,
With words that weep, and ftrains that agonize ;.
Can all this mournful magick of thy voice
Tell what Amyntor feels ! ' O Heav'n ! art thou
' What have I heard ? Aurelius! art thou he ? 310
' Confufion ! horror! that moft wrong'd of men 1
' And, O moft wretched too ! alas \ no more,
' No more a father on that fatal flood
' Thy Theodora^-' At thefe wor^s he fellj
A deadly
240 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
A deadly cold ran freezing thro' his veins, 315
And life was on the wing, her loath'd abode
For ever to forfake.. As on his way
The traveller, from heav'n by lightning ftruck,
Is fix'd at once immoveable, his eye
With terror glaring wild, his ftiff'ning limbs 320
In fudden marble bound ; fo flood, fo look'd,
The heart-fmote parent at this tale of death,
Half utter'd, yet too plain ! No figh to rife,
No tear had force to flow; his fenfes all,
Thro' all their pow'rs fufpended, and fubdu'd 325
To chill amazement. Silence for a fpace
Such difmal filence faddens earth and (ky
Ere firft the thunder breaks on either fide
Fill'd up this interval fevere. At laft,
As from fpme vifion that to frenzy fires 33*
The fleeper's brain, Amyntor waking wild,
A poniard, hid beneath his various robe,
Drew furious forth ' Me, me !' he cry'd, ' on me
* Let all thy wrongs be vifited, and thus
* My horrors end !' then madly would have plung'd 335
The weapon's hoftile point. His lifted arm
Aurelius, tho' with deep difmay, and dread,
And anguifli (hook, yet his fuperior foul
Collecting, and refuming all himfelf,
Seiz'd fudden ; then perilling, with ftrift eye, 340
And beating heart, Amyntor's blooming form,
Nor from his air or feature gath'ring aught
To wake remembrance, thus at length befpoke :
* O dire attempt ! who'er thou art, yet ftay
' Thy hand felf-violent, nor thus to guilt, 345
' If guilt is thine, accumulating add
* A crime that Nature ihrinks from, and to which
* Heav'n has indulg'd no mercy. Sov'reign Judge !
* Shall man firit violate the law divine,
That plac'd him here dependent on thy nod, . 350
' Refign'd,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 241
* Refign'd, unmurm'ring, to await his hour
* Of fair difmillion hence ; fhall man do this,
' Then dare thy prefence, rufli into thy fight,
'Red with the fin, and recent from the ftain,
* Of unrepented blood ! Call home thy fenfe ; 355
' Know what thou art, and own his hand molt juft
* Rewarding or afflicling. But, fay on :
c My foul, yet trembling at thy frantick deed,
' Recals thy words, recals their dire import ;
' They urge me on, they bid me aflc no more. ;,';?
What would I aflc ? My Theodora's fate,
* Ah, me ! is known too plain. Have I then finn'd,
Good Heav'n ! beyond all grace ! But mall I blame
* His rage of grief ; and in myfelf admit
' It's wild excefs ? Heav'n gave her to my wim ; 365
* That gift Heav'n has refum'd ; righteous in both :
* For both, his providence be ever blefs ; d !'
By fhame reprefs'd, with rifing wonder fill'd,
Amyntor, flow-recovering into thought,
Submiffive on .his knee the good man's hand 370
Grafp'd clofe, and bore with ardour to his lips.
His eye, where fear, confufion, rev'rence, fpoke,
Thro' fwelling tears, what language cannot tell,
Now rofe to meet, now ihunn'd the Hermit's glance,
Shot awful at him, till the various fwell 375
Of paflion ebbing', thus he fault'ring fpoke :
' What haft thou done ? why fav'd a wretch unknown !
' Whom knowing, e'en thy goocbiefs muft abhor.
* Miftaken man ! the honour of thy name,
1 Thy love, truth, duty, all muft be my foes. 380
' I am Aurelius ! turn that look afide,
' That brow of terror, while this wretch can fay,
* Abhorrent fay, he is Forgive me, Heav'n !
' Forgive me, Virtue ! if J would renounce
' Whom Nature bids me rcv'rence by hu-r bond, 38$
* Rolando's fon j by your more facred ties,
H h * Aa
24 2 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
' As to his crimes an alien to his blood ;
* For crimes like his '
Rolando's fon ! Juft Heav'n !
Ha ! here, and in my pow'r ! A war of thoughts, 390
' All terrible arifmg, makes my frame
' With doubtful conflift. By one ftroke to reach
' The father's heart, tho' feas are fpread between,
' Were great revenge ! Away! Revenge? on whom?
' Alas ! on my own foul ; by rage betray 'd 395
' E'en to the crime my reafon moft condemns
' In him who ruin'd me !' Deep-mov'd he fpoke,
And his own poniard o'er the proftrate youth
Sufpended held ; but as the welcome blow,
With arms difplay'd, Amyntor feem'd to court, 40x3
Behold, in fndden confluence gath'ring round,
The natives flood, whom kindnefs hither drew,
The man unknown with each relieving aid
Of love and care, as ancient rites ordain,
To fuccour and to ferve. Before them came 405
Montano, venerable fage ! whofe head
The hand of Time with twenty winter's fnow
Had fhower'd, and to whofe intellectual eye
Futurity, behind her cloudy veil,
Stands in fair .light difclos'd. Him, after paufe, 410
Aurelius drew apart, and in his care
Amyntor plac'd, to lodge him and fecure;
To fave him from himfelf, as one with grief
Tempeiluous, and with rage, diftemper'd deep :
This done, nor waiting for reply, alone '415
He ibught the vale, and his calm cottage gain'd.
CANTO III.
HE R E Hilda's fcuthern hills their fummit lift
With triple fork to heav' n, the mounted fun
Full, from the midmoft, fhot in dazzling ftream
* ' His
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 243
His noon-tide ray : and now, in lowing train,
Were feen flow-pacing weftward o'er the vale, c
The milky mothers, foot purfuing foot,
And nodding as thy move, their oozy meal,
The bitter healthful herbage of the Ihore,
Around it's rocks to graze * j for, ftrange to tell !
The hour of ebb, tho' ever varying found, 10
As yon pale planet wheels from day to day
Her courfe inconftant, their fure inltin& feels,
Intelligent of times, by Heav'n's own hand,
To all it's creatures equal in it's care,
Unerring mov'd. Thefe figns obferv'd, that guide 15
To labour and repofe a fimple race,
Thefe native iigns to due repaft at noon,
Frugal and\plain, had warn'd the temp'rate ifle,
All but Aurelius : he, unhappy man !
By Nature's voice folicited in vain, 20
Nor hour obferv'd, nor due repaft partook.
The child no more ! the mother's fate untold !
Both in black profpefl rifing to his eye :
'Twas anguilh there ; 'twas here diftra&ing doubt !
Yet after long and painful conflift borne, 25
Where nature, reafon, oft the doubtful fcale
Inclin'd alternate, fummoning each aid
That virtue lends, and o'er each thought infirm
Superior rifing, in the might of Him
Who ftrength from weaknefs, as from darknefs light, 30
Omnipotent can draw, again refign'd,
Again he facrific'd to Heav'n's high will
Each foothing weaknefs of a parent's breaft,
* The cows often feed on the alga marina, and they can diftinguiflj exaflJy
the tide of ebb from the tide of flood, though, at the fame time, they are not
within view ofthefliore. When the tide has ebbed about two hours, then
they ftcer their courfe diredlly to the neareft fhore, in their ufual order, one
after another. I had occafion to make this obfcrvation thirtt":n times iii one
week. Martin's Weftern Iflcs of Scotland, p. 156.
H h 2 The
244 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
The figh foft mem'ry prompts, the tender tear,
That ftreaming o'er an object lov'd and loft
With mournful magick tortures and delights,
Relieves us while it's fweet oppreiTion loads,
And by admitting, blunts the lling of woe.
As reafon thus the mental ftorm feren'd,
And thro' the darknefs fhot her fun-bright ray
That ftrengthens while it chears, behold from far
Amyntor flow approaching ! on his front
O'er each funk feature forrow had diffus'd
Attraction fweetly fad : his noble port,
Majeftick in diftrefs, Aurclius mark'd ;
And, unrefifting, felt his bofom flow
With focial foftnefs. Straight before the door
Of his mofs-filver'd cell they fate them down
In counterview ; and thus the youth began :
With patient ear, with calm attention, mark
* Amyntor's ftory ; then, as juftice fees,
* On either hand her equal balance weigh,
' Abfolve him or condemn. But, oh ! may I
A father's name, when truth forbids to praife,
* Unblam'd pronounce ! that name to ev'ry fon
' By Heav'n made facred, and by Nature's hand,
* With honour, duty, love, her triple pale,
* Fenc'd ftrongly round, to bar the rude approach
Of each irrev'rent thought! The'fe eyes, alas !
' The curs'd effects of fonguinary zeal
' Too near beheld, it's madnefs how extreme,
' How blind it's fury ! by the prompting prieft,
' Each tyrant's ready inftrument of ill,
' Train'd on to holy mifchief : fcene abhorr'd !
' Fell Cruelty let loofe in Mercy's name ;
' Intolerance, while o'er the free-born mind
* Her heavieft chains were caft, her iron fcourge
' Severeft hung, yet daring to appeal
< That Pow'r \yhofe law is meeknefs, and for deeds
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 245
That outrage Heav'n, belying Heav'n's command ! 70
' Flexile of will, misjudging, tho' Sincere,
Rolando caught the fpread infection, plung'd
Implicit into guilt, and headlong urg'd
His courfe unjuft to violence and rage ;
Unmanly rage ! when nor the charm divine ~j
Of beauty, nor the matron's facred age,
Secure from wrongs, could innocence fecure,
Found rev'rence or diftin&ion : yet, fuftain'-d
By confcious worth within, the matchlefs pair
Their threat'ning fate, imprifonment, and fcorn, So
And death denounc'd, unfhrinking, unfubdu'd
To murmur or complaint, fuperior bore,
With patient hope, with fortitude refign'd,
Not built on pride, not courting vain applaufe ;
But calmly conftant, without effort great, J8j
What Reafon dictates, and what Heav'n approves.
' But how proceed, Aurelius ? in what founds
Of gracious cadence, cf afluafive pow'r,
My farther ftory cloath ? O could I fteal
From Harmony her fofteft-warbled ftrain 90
Of melting air, or Zephyr's vernal voice,
Or Philomela's fong, when love diflblves
To liquid blandimment his ev'ning lay,
All nature fmiling round! then might I fpeak ;
Then might Amyntor, unoffending, tell 95
How unperceiv'd and fecret thro' his brcaft,
As morning rifes o'er the midnight made,
What firft was ow'd humanity to both,
Afiifling piety and tender thought,
Grew fwift and filent into love for one ; 100
My fole offence if love can then offend,
When virtue lights, and rev'rence guards it's flame.
' O Theodora ! who thy world of charms,
That foul of fweetnefs, that foft glow of youth,
Warm on thy cheek, and beaming from thine eye, 105
4 UxynoY'4
$ BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
' Unmov'd could fee ! that dignity of eafe,
' That grace of air, by happy nature thine !
* For all in thee was native ; from within
* Spontaneous flowing, as fome equal ftream
' From it's unfailing fource ! and then, too, feen n*
* In milder lights ; by Sorrow's fhading hand
* Touch'd into pow'r more exquifitely foft,
By tears adorn'd, intender'd by diftrefs.
c O fweetnefs without name ! when Love looks on
' With Pity's melting eye, that to the foul 115
* Endears, ennobles, her whom Fate afflicts,
* Or Fortune leaves unhappy ! paffion then
' Refines to virtue ; then a purer train
* Of heav'n-infpir'd emotions, undebas'd
' By felf-regard, or thought of due return, 129
* The breaft expanding, all it's pow'rs exalt
' To emulate what Reafon beft conceives
* Of love celeftial, whofe prevenient aid
' Forbids approaching ill, or gracious draws,
' When the lone heart with anguifti inly bleeds, 125
From pain it's fting, it's bitternefs from woe \
' By this plain courtihip of the honeft heart
< To pity mov'd, at length my pleaded vows
* The gentle maid, with unrelu&ant ear,
* Would oft admit ; would oft endearing crown I^Q
' With fmiles of kind aflent, with looks that fpoke,
' In bluftiing foftnefs, her chafte bofom touch'd
* To mutual love. O Fortune's faireft hour !
* O feen, but not enjoy'd ; juft hail'd, and loft
* It's flatt'ring brightnefs ! Theodora's form, 135
* Event unfear'd ! had caught Rolando's eye ;
' And Love, (if wild Defire, of Fancy born,
e By furious paffions nurs'd, that facred name
* Profanes not) Love his ftubborn breaft diflblv'd
' To tranfient goodnefs. But my thought ihrinks back* 140
* Reluctant to proceed ; and filial awe
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. | 4 f
' With pious hand, would o'er a parent's crime
* The veil of filence and oblivious night
* Permitted throw. His impious fuit repell'd,
c Aw'd from her eye, and from her lip fevere 145
' Dafh'd with indignant fcorn each harbour'd thought
' Of foft emotion, or of focial fenfe,
' Love, pity, kindnefs, alien to a foul
' That bigot rage embofoms, fled at once,
* And all the favage re-aflum'd his breaft. 153
" 'Tis juft !" he cry'd ; " who thus invites difdain,
" Deferves repulfe ; he who, by flave-like arts,
" Would meanly fteal what force may nobler take,
' And, greatly daring, dignify the deed :
*' When next we meet, our mutual blufh to fpare, 155
" Thine from diflembling, from bafe flatt'ry mine,
" Shall be my care." This threat, by brutal fcorn
Keen'd and imbitter'd, terrible to both,
' To one prov'd fatal. SilentAvafting grief,
' The mortal worm that on Emilia's frame 160
* Had prey'd unfeen, now deep thro' all her pow'rs
It's poifon fpread, and kill'd their vital growth.
* Sick'ning, (he funk beneath this double weight
' Of fhame and horror. Dare I yet proceed?
' Aurelius ! O moft injur'd of mankind ! 165
' Shall yet my tale, exafperating, add
' To woe new anguifli ! and to grief defpair !
' She is no more !'
* O Providence fevere !'
Aurelius fmote his breaft, and groaning cry'd ; 170
But curb'd a fecond groan, repell'd the voice
Of froward grief, and to the Will Supreme,
In juftice awful, lowly bending his,
Nor figh, nor murmur, nor repining plaint,
By all the war of Nature tho' aflaiPd, 175
Efcap'd his lips. ' What! mall \ve from Heav'n's grace
' With life receiving happinefs, our mare
Of
* BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
* Of ill refufe ? and are afflictions aught
'But mercies in difguife ? th' alternate cup,
* Medicinal tho' bitter, and prepaid
c By Love's own hand for falutary ends.
* But, were they ills indeed, can fond complaint
* Arreft the wing of time ? Can grief command
* This noon-day fun to roll his flaming orb
f Back to yon eaftern coaft, and bring again
' The hours of yefterday ? or frcm the womb
* Of that unfounded deep the bury'd corfe
To light and life reflore r Blefs'd pair ! farewel !
* Yet, yet a few Ihort days of erring grief,
* Of human fondnefs fighing in the breaft,
* And forrow is no more. Now, gentle youth I
' And let me call thee fon, (for, O that name
* Thy faith, thy fricndfliip, thy true portion borne
' Of pains for me, too fadly have deferv'd !)
f On with thy tale : 'tis mine when Heav'n afflids
" To hearken and adore.' The patient man
Thus fnoke. Amyntor thus his ftory clos'd :
' As dumb with anguifli round the bed of" death
' Weeping we knelt, to mine me faintly rais'd
' Her doling eyes, then fixing, in cold gaze,
' On Theodora's face" O fave my child !'
' She faid ; and, mrinking from her pillow, flept
* Without a groan, a pang ! In hallow'd earth
* I fa\v her fhrqiufed ; bade eternal peace
* Her fliade receive ; and, with the trueil tears
' Affection ever wept, her dull bedew'd.
' What then remain'd for honour or for love ?
* What, but that fcene of violence to fly,
' With guilt profan'd, and terrible with death ;
* Rolando's fatal roof. Late at the hour,
', When fliade and Alence o'er this nether orb
' With drowzieft influence reign, the wsining moon
' Afcending mournful in. the mi;' night fphere,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 249
' On that drear foot, within whofe cavern'd womb
' Emilia fleeps, and by the turf that veils 215
' Her hoilour'd clay, alone and kneeling there
c I found my Theodora ! thrill'd with awe,
' With facred terror, which the time, the place,
' Pour'd on us, fadly-folemn, I too bent
' My trembling knee, and lock'd in her's my hand 220
1 Acrofs her parent's grave. " By this dread fcene !
' By night's pale regent ! by yon glorious train
' Of ever-moving fires that round her burn !
'' By Death's dark empire ! by the fheeted duft
' That once was man, now mould'ring here below ! 225
' But chief by her's, at whofe notturnal tomb
' Rev'rent we kneel ! and by her nobler part,
' Th' unbody'd fpirit hov'ring near, perhaps
' As witnefs to our vows ! nor time, nor chance,
' Nor aught but Death's inevitable hand, 230
' Shall e'er divide our loves !" I led her thence,
To where, fafe ftation'd in a fecret bay,
Rough of defcent, and brown with pendent pines
That murmur'd to the gale, our bark was moor'd.
Wefail'd: But, O my father ! can I fpeak 235
What yet remains ! Yon ocean, black with ftorm,
It's ufelefs fails rent from the groaning pine !
The fpeechlefs crew aghaft ! and that loft fair !
Still, ftill I fee her ! feel her heart pant thick !
And hear her voice, in ardent vows to Heav'n, 240
For me alone preferr'd ! as on my arm
Expiring, finking with her fears, me hung 1
I kifs'd her pale cold cheek ; with tears adjur'd,
And won at laft with fums of proffer'd gold,
The boldeft mariners this precious charge 245
Inftant to fave, and in the fkifffecur'd,
Their oars acrofs the foamy flood to ply
With unremitting arm. I then prepar'd
To follow her. That moment from the deck
* I i A fea
o BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
* A fea fwell'd o'er, and plung'd me in the gulph ! 250
f Nor me alone ; it's broad and billowing fweep
' Muft have involv'd her too. Myfterious Heav'n !
' My fatal love on her devoted head
' Drew down it muft be fo ! the judgment due
' To me and mine; or was Amyntor fav'd 255
' For it's whole quiver of remaining wrath !
' For ftorms more fierce ! for pains of fharper fting !
* And years of death to come !' Nor farther voice
Nor flowing tear his high-wrought grief fupply'd ;
With arms outfpread, with eyes in hopelefs gaze 260
To heav'n uplifted, motionlefs and mute
He ilood, the mournful femblance of defpair.
The lamp of day, tho' from mid-neon declin'd,
Still flaming with full ardour, fhot on earth
Oppreffive brightnefs round, till in foft fteam, 265
From Ocean's bofom his light vapours drawn,
With grateful intervention o'er the fky
Their veil diffufive fpread, the fcene abroad
Soft-lhadowing, vale and plain and dazzling hill.
Aurelius with his gueft the weftern clifF 27CX
Afcending flow, beneath it's marble roof.
From whence in double ftream a lucid fource
Roll'd founding forth, and where with dewy wing
Frefli breezes play'd, fought refuge and repole,
Till cooler hoars arife. The fubjeft ifle 2-5
Her village capital, where Health and.- Peace
Are tutelary gods, her fmall domain
Of arable and pailoje, vein'd with ftreams
That branching bear refremful moifture on
To field and mead ; her ilraw-roof'd temple rood, 280
Where Piety, not Pride, adoring kneels;
Lay full in view : from fcene to fcene around
Aurelius gaz'd, and fighing, thus began.
' Not we alone ; alas '. in ev'ry clime
f The human race are funs of forro\v born ; 285
< Hehs
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 251
' Heirs of tranfmitted labour and difeafe,
Of pain and grief, from fire to fon deriv'd,
* All have their mournful portion ; all muft bear
' Th' impos'd condition of their mortal (late,
' Viciflitude of fufFring. Caft thine eye 290
' Where yonder vale, Amyntor, Hoping fpreads
' Full to the noon-tide beam it's primrofe lap,
From hence due eaft.' Amyntor look'd, and faw,
Not without wonder at a fight fo ftrange,
Where thrice three females, earnelt each, and arm'd 295
With rural inilruments, the foil prepar'd
For future harveft. Thefe the trenchant fpade,
To turn the mould, and break th' adhefive clods,
Employ'd afliduous ; thofe, with equal pace,
And arm alternate, ftrew'd it's frefh lap white 300
With fruitful Ceres ; while, in train behind,
Three more th' incumbent harrow heavy on
O'er-labour'd drew, and clos'd the toilfome tafk.
' Behold !' Aurelius thus his fpeech renew'd,
' From that foft fex, too delicately fram'd 305
* For toils like thefe, the tafk of rougher man,
' What yet necefiity demands fevere.
' Twelve funs have purpled thefe encircling hills
' With orient beams, as many nights along
' Their dewy fummits drawn th* alternate veil 310
' Of darknefs, fmce, in unpropitious hour,
' The hufbands of thofe widow'd mates, who now
' For both mull; labour, launch'd, in queft of food,
' Their ifland-fkiff advent'rous on the deep :
' Them, while the fweeping net fccure they plung'd 315
* The finny race to fnare, whofo foodful fhoals
* Each creek and bay innumerable croud,
'As annual on from more to more they move
' In wat'ry caravan ; them, thus intent,
' Dark from the fouth a guft of furious wing, 320
Upfpringing, drove to fea, and left in tears
I i 2 Thii
253 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
' This little world of brothers and of friends !
' But when, at ev'ning hour, disjointed planks,
' Borne on the furging tide, and broken oars,
' To fight, with fatal certainty, reveal'd 325
' The wreck before furmis'd, one gen'ral groan
* To heav'n afcending, fpoke the gen'ral breaft
With fharpeft anguifh pierc'd. Their ceafelefs plaint,
Thro' thefe hoarfe rocks on this refounding fliore,
' At morn was heard; at midnight too, were feen, 33*
' Difconfolate on each chill mountain's height
' The mourners fpread, exploring land and fea
' With eager gaze; till from yon lefTer ifle,
Yon round of mofs-clad hills, Borera nam'd,
Full north, behold ! above the foaring lark 335
* It's dizzy cliffs afpire, hung round and white
< With curling milts at laft, from yon hoar hills,
* Inflaming the brown air with fuJden blaze
* And ruddy undulation, thrice three fires,
Like meteors waving in a moonlefs flcy, 340
* Our eyes, yet unbelieving, faw diftindl,
* Succeflive kindled, and from night to night
' Renew'd continuous. Joy, with wild excefs,
' Took her gay turn to reign ; and Nature now
' From rapture wept ; yet ever and anon ' 345
* By fad conjefture damp'd, and anxious thought,
' How from yon rocky prifbn to releafe
' Whom the deep fea immures (their only boat
* Deflroy'd) and whom th' inevitable fiege
* Of hunger mall affauk, But hope fuftains 3^0
The human heart ; and now their faithful wives,
' With love-taught {kill, and vigour not their own,
* On yonder field th' autumnal year prepare *.'
* The Author who relates this ftory add?, that the produce of grain that
-fr.afon was the moft plentiful tbey had feen for many years before. Vide
Martin's Description of the Wcftcrn Jfles of Scotland, p. 286.
Amyntor,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. * S3
Amyntor, who the tale diftrefsful heard
With fympathizing forrow on himfelf, 355
Oa his feverer fate, now pond'ring deep,
Rapt by fad thought the hill unheeding left,
And reach'd, with fwerving ftep, the diftant Arand.
Above, around, in cloudy circles wheel'd,
Or failing level on the polar gale 360
That cool with ev'ning rofe, a thoufand wings,
The fummer nations of thefe pregnant cliffs,
Play'd fportive round, and to the iun outfpread
Their various plumage, or in wild notes Jiail'd
His parent-beam that animates and chears 365
All living kinds : he, glorious from amidft
A pomp of golden clouds, th' Atlantick flood
Beheld oblique, and o'er it's azure breaft
Wav'd one unbounded blufli ; a fcene to ftrike
Both ear and eye with wonder and delight ! 370
But, loft to outward fenfe, Amyntor pafs'd
Regardlefs on, thro' other walks convey'd
Of baleful profpeft, which pale Fancy rais'd
JncefTant to herfelf, and fabled o'er
With darkeft night, meet region for defpair ! 375
Till northward, where the rock it's fea-walh'd bafc
Projects athwart, and. flints the bounded fcene,
Rounding it's point, he rais'd his eves, and faw,
At diftance faw, defcending on the ihore,
Forth from their anchor'd boat, of men unknown jSo
A double band, who by their geftures ftrange
There fix'd with wond'ring ; for at once they knelt
With hands upheld } at once to Heav'n, as feem'd.
One gen'ral hymn pour'd forch of vocal praife ;
Then flowly rifmg, forward mov'd their fteps : 385
Slow as they mov'd, behold ! amid the train,
On either fide fupported, onward came,
Pale, and of piteous look, a penfive maid,
AS pne by wafting fickuefs fore afl^il'd.
2 54 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Or plung'd in grief profound. ' Oh ! all ye Powers !' 39*
Amyntor, ftartling, cry'd, and fhot his foul
In rapid glance before him on her face :
* Illusion \ no, it cannot be. My blood
* Runs chill ; my feet are rooted here ! and, fee !
' To mock my hopes, it wears her gracious form ! 395
4 The fpirits who this ocean waile and wild
4 Still hover round, or walk thefe ifles unfeen,
* Prefenting oft.in pidlur'd vifion ftrange
4 The dead or abfent, have yon fhape adorn'd
4 So like my love, of unfubilantial air, 409
- 4 Embody'd, featur'd it with all her charms !
4 And, lo ! behold, it's eyes are fix'd on mine
4 With gaze tranfported ! Ha ! me faints ! Ihe falls !'
He ran, he flew ! his clafping arms receiv'd
Her finking weight : 4 O earth, and air, and fea ! 405
4 'Tis flic ! 'tis Theodora ! Pow'r Divine,
' Whofe goodnefs knows no bound, thy hand is here,
* Omnipotent in mercy 1' As he fpoke,
Adown his cheek, thro' fhiv'ring joy and doubt,
The tear faft- fall ing ftream'd. 4 My love ! my life ! 410
* Soul of my wifhes ! fav'd beyond all faith !
' Returned to life and me ! O fly, my friends ;
4 Fly, and from yon tranflucent fountain bring
' The living ftream ! Thou dearer to my foul
* Than all the fumlefs wealth this fea entombs, 415
4 My Theodora ! yet awake ; 'tis I,
4 'Tis poor Amyntor calls thee!' At that name,
That potent name, her fpirit from the verge
Of death recall'd, fhe, trembling, rais'd her eyes ;
Trembling, his neck with eager grafp entwin'd, 420
And murmur'd out his name, then funk again ;
Then fwoon'd upon his bofom, thro' excefs
Of blifs unhop'd, too mighty for htr frame.
The rofe-bud thus, that to the beams ferene
Of
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 255
Of morning glad unfolds her tender charms, 425
Shrinks and expires beneath the noon-day blaze.
Moments of dread fufpenfe but foon to ceafe I
For now, while on her face thefe men unknown
The ftream, with cool afperfion, bufy call,
His eyes beheld, with wonder and amaze, 433
Beheld in them, his friends ! th' advent'rous few,
Who bore her to the fkiff ! whofe daring fkill
Had fav'd her from the deep ! As o'er her cheek
Rekindling life, like morn, it's light diffus'd
In dawning purple, from their lips he learn'd 435
How to yon ifle, yon round of mofs-clad hills,
Borera nam'd, before the tempefl borne,
Thefe iflanders, thrice three, then prifon'd there,
(So Heav'n ordain'd) with utmoft peril run,
With toil invincible, from fhelve and rock 440
Their boat preferv'd, and to this happy coaft
It's prow directed fafe. He heard no more ;
The reft already known, his ev'ry fenfe,
His full-collecled foul, on her alone
Was fix'd, was hung enraptur'd, while thefe founds, 445
This voice, as of an angel, pierc'd his ear.
' Amyntor! O my life's recover'd hope !
' My foul's defpair and rapture! Can this be!
' Am I on earth ; and do thefe arms indeed
' Thy real form infold ? Thou dreadful deep ! 450
' Ye ftiores unknown ! ye wild-impending hills !
' Dare I yet truft my fenfe! O yes, 'tis he!
' 'Tis he himfelf ! My eyes, my bounding heart,
/ Confefs their living lord ! What (hall I fay !
' How vent the boundlefs tranfport that expands 455
' My lab 'ring thought ! th' unutterable blifs,
' Joy, wonder, gratitude, that pain to death
' The breaft they charm '.Amyntor ! O fupport
' This fwimming brain ; I would not now be torn
' Again from life and thee, nor caufe thy heart 460
' A fecondl
5 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
' A fecond pang !' At this dilated high
The fwell of joy, moft fatal where it's force
Is felt moft exquifite, a timely vent
Now found, and broke in tender dews away
Of heart-relieving tears. As o'er it's charge, 46^
With fhelt'ring wing, folicitoufly gooti,
The guardian Genius hovers ; fo the youth,
On her lov'd face affiduous and alarm'd,
In filent fondnefs dwelt, while all his foul
With trembling tendernefs of hope and fear 470
Pkafingly pain'd, was all employ 'd for her;
The rous'd emotions warring in her breaft,
Attempering, to compofe, and gradual fit
For farther joy her foft impreflive frame.
* O happy ! tho' as yet thou know'ft not half 475
The blifs that waits thee ! But, thou gentle mind,
' Whofe figh is pity, and whofe fmile is love,
' For all who joy or forrow, arm thy breaft
With that beft temp'rance, which from fond excefs,
* When rapture lifts to dang'jous height it's pow'rs, 489
* Refteclive guards. Know then and let calm thought
On wonder wait fafe refug'd in this ifle,
' Thy godlike father lives 1 and, lo ! but curb,
* Reprefs the tranfport that o'erheaves thy heart ;
'Tis he look yonder he, whofe rev'rend fteps 485
' The mountain's fide defcend!' Abrupt from his
Her hand ftie drew ; and, as^on wings upborne,
Shot o'er the fpace between. He faw, he knew,
Aftonifh'd knew, before him, on her knee,
His Theodora ! To his arms he rais'd 49*
The loit, lov'd fair, and in his bofcm prefs'd.
' My father 1 .' ' O my child!' at once they cry'd;
Nor more: the reft extatick filence fpoke ;
And Nature from her inmoft leat of fenfe
Beyond all utt'ranc6 mov'd. On this blcfs'u fcene, 49^
Where emulous in. either bofom ilrove
Adoring
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 257.
Adoring gratitude, earth, ocean, air,
Around with foft'ning afpeft feem'd to fmile,
And Heav'n, approving, look'd delighted down.
Nor theirs alone this blifsful hour ; the joy, <joo
With inftant flow, from (hore to fliore along
DifFufive ran, and all th' exulting ifle
About the new-arriv'd was pour'd abroad,
To hope long loft ! by miracle regain'd !
In each plain bofom Love and Nature wept; - 05
While each a fire, a hufband, or a friend,
Embracing, held and kifs'd.
Now, while the fong,
The choral hymn, in wildly-warbled notes,
What Nature dictates when the full heart prompts, 5-10
Beft harmony, their grateful fouls effus'd
Aloud to Heav'n, Montano, rev'rend feer !
(Whofe eye prophetick, far thro' Time's abyfs,
Could (hoot it's beam, and there the births of Fate,
Yet immature, and in their caufes hid, 515
Illumin'd fee) a fpace abftrafted flood ;
His frame with fhiv'ry horror ftirr'd, his eyes
From outward vifion held, and all the man
Entranc'd in wonder at th' unfolding fcene,
On fluid air, as in a mirror feen, 520
And glowing radiant to his mental fight.
' They fly !' he cry'd ; ' they melt in air away,
' The clouds that long fair Albion's heav'n o'ercaft !
' With tempeft delug'd, or with flame dcvour'd,
' Her drooping plains ; while dawning rofy round 52 ^
' A purer morning lights up all her fkies !
* He comes ! behold, the Great Deliv'rer comes !
Immortal William ! borne triumphant on,
' From yonder orient, o'er propitious feas,
' White with the fails of his unnumberM fleet, 530
A floating foreft, ftretch'd from fhore to more !
See ! with fpread wing Britannia's Genius flies
K k ' Before
8 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Before his prow, commands the fpeeding gales
* To waft him on, and o'er the hero's head,
Inwreath'd with olive, bears the laurel crown ;
' Blefs'd emblem, peace with liberty reftor'd !
* And, hark ! from either ftrand, which nations hide,
' To welcome in true Freedom's day renew'd,
' What thunders of acclaim ! Aurelius ! man
By Heav'n belov'd, thou, too, that facred fun
Shalt live to hail ; malt warm thee in his ihine I
* I fee thee on the flow'ry lap diffus'd
' Of thy lov'd vale, amid a fmiling race
From tliis blefs'd pair to fpring ; whom equal faith,
And equal fondnefs, in foft league mail hold
From youth to rev'rend age, the calmer hours
Of thy laft day to fweeten and adorn,
* Thro' life thy comfort, and in death thy crown !'
LAURA;
01,
THE COMPLAINT.
AW ELEGY.
BY DR. MARRIOTT.
YE groves, with venerable mofs array'd,
That o'er yon caverns ftretch your pendent fhade.
Where facred Silence lulls the rural vale,
And Love in whifpers tells his tender tale ;
Ye lonely rocks ; ye ftreams that ever flow,
Still as my tears, and conftant as my woe ;
To you, behold, the wretched Laura flies,
And haunts thofe feats from whence her forrows rife ;
Wheitf,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 159
Where, loft to lore, hovr often has me ftray'd !
When the fond lover led his blaming maid,
When his foft lips, too eloquent his art,
Pour'd the warm with, and breath'd out all his heart J
Ah, once lov'd feats 1 your pleating fcenes are o'er,
Nor can you charm, fince he can love no more ;
Tho' fmile your lawns with vernal glories crown'd,
In vain gay Nature paints th' enamell'd ground ;
While thro' your folitary paths I rove,
A prey to grief, to ficknefs, and to love.
Tho' gentle zephyrs fan the bending bowers,
Tho' breathes the incenfe of your opening flowers,
Nor opening flowers, nor gentle zephyrs charm,
Nor beauteous fcenes a grief like mine difarm :
Fade every flower, and languim ev'ry fenfe,
Ye have no fweets for fallen innocence !
Tom by remorfe, fad viftim of defpair,
Where mall I turn ? or where addrefs my prayer ?
Far as the morn it's early beam difplays,
Or where the ftar of evening darts it's rays ;
Far as wide earth is ftretch'd, or oceans roll,
Where blow the winds, or heaven inverts the pole.
In vain my fluttering foul would wing it's way ;
Stern Care purfues, where'er the wretched ftray.
Soft God of Sleep, whofe ever-peaceful reign
Lulls earth, and heav'n, and all th' extended main,
Powerful to give the labouring heart to reft,
To wipe the tear, and heal the wounded breaft,
Say, by what crime offended, flies from me,
Invok'd, thy itnpropitious deity ?
Or dooms, on racks of wildeft Fancy torn,
In dreams, my agonizing foul to mourn ?
Why am I oft on angry billows tofs'd,
Now in fome wide and dreary defart loft?
Why yet in life infernal tortures feel,
Bound by fierce demons to fome rapid wheel ?
K k 2 Now
z6o BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Now feem to climb, while hills on hills arife,
In vain ; or fall in tempers from the ikies :
Tread burning plains, or fwim in feas of fire,
Juft reach the more, then fee the more retire !
As oft, dear youth ! thy pleafing form appears ;
I ftretch my arms, and wake diflblv'd in tears ;
Yet waking Fancy all that lofs fupplies,
And ftill I view thee with a lover's eyes ;
Entranc'd in thought, o'er all thy charms I gaze,
See thy bright eyes diffufe their fofteft rays,
Hang on thy hand, and on thy breaft reclin'd,
Play with thy locks that waver with the wind ;
Joy in thy joy, or in thy forrows join,
And on thy lips my fpirit mix with thine.
Now o'er dark wilds or rugged rocks we ftray,
Love lights the gloom, and fmooths the dreary way ;
Now on foft banks our weary limbs repofe,
Where every flower of vernal beauty glows ;
But light as air, each pleafing vifion flew,
Swift as the fun difpels the morning dew ;
While with the day returns the fenfe of woe :
We wake more wretched when the cheat we know.
Imagination ! miflrefs of the foul,
What powers unfeen the aftive mind controul ?
And fill the waving thought, or bufy fleep ?
Where not a breeze diiturbs the tranquil deep,
Nor lofty pines thro' all the foreft move,
Why ftir the motions of refifllefs love ?
Urg'd by the golden morn, the night recedes,
And year to year in changeful courfe fucceeds ;
Nor night, nor mom, nor years to me reftore
The peace which Laura's heart poflefs'd before ;
Involv'd in clouds one darkfome fcene I view;
Bleed the fame wounds, and all my pains renew.
O boalt of Laura's long-forgotten praife !
Paft are the triumphs of my happier days,
When
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 261
When plac'd fupreme on Beauty's radiant throne,
I faw with confcious pride each heart my own ;
Where'er I turn'd, a thoufand nymphs admir'd ;
Whene'er I fmil'd, a thoufand fwains expir'd :
I fpoke, 'twas mufick dwelt upon my tongue;
I mov'd a goddefs, and an angel fung.
My carelefs Heps in joys were taught to rove ;
Each voice was flattery, and each look was love;
But Beauty's power, too mighty long to laft,
Fled on the wings of rapid time, is paft.
As fome proud veflel to the profperous gale
Her ftreamer waves, and fpreads the filken fail,
While filver oars, to flutes foft breathing, fweep,
With meafur'd ftrokes, the fcarcely heaving deep ;
But foon tempeftuous clouds the fcene deform,
And the loud furge remurmurs to the ftorm :
Thus big with hope, from dark fufpicion free,
I fail'd with tranfport on Life's fummer fea ;
The gay attendants of my happy ftate,
The Smiles, the Graces round were feen to wait,
And all the moments, as they fwiftly flew,
Shower 3 d down foft joys, and pleafures ever new.
How chang'd this fleeting image of a day !
How fets in awful gloom the ev'ning ray !
While, fix'd on earth her eye in fad fufpenfe,
Pours the deep figh, incefiant Penitence.
If youthful charms decay with age or pain,
Beauty, thy crouded worfhippcrs how vain !
Why then fuch crowds of incenfe round afcendf
Why proftrate monarchs at thy altars bend ?
Why earth's and ocean's mighty bounds explore
At once to win thee, and increafe thy power ?
Let fad example Reafon's dictates aid !
Here fee what ruin grief and love have made ;
E'en Love, who lives by Beauty's fmiles carefj'd,
Bafks in her eyes, and wantons on her breaft,
With
* BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
With cruel force the fatal (haft employs,
And fooneft what he moil adores deftroys.
How cold I feel life's idle current flow,
Where once the dancing fpirits- lov'd to glow ?
No- more thefe eyes with youthful rapture Ifhine,
Nor cheeks foft blufhing fpeak a warmth divine j
Graceful no more amid the feftive dance
My fteps with eafy dignity advance,
And all the glofly locks, whofe ringlets fpread^
Q*er my fair neck, the honours of my head,
Ceafe the neat labours of my hand to know ;
IH fuits the care of elegance with woe I
Why did not Nature, where fhe gave Co chars*
With unrelenting pride my bofom arm ?
Why was my foul it's tender pity taught,
Each foft affeftion, and each generous thought ?
Hence fpring my fbnrows, hence with fighs I ppovr
How feeble woman, and how fierce is love I
In unavailing ftreams my tears are fhed j
Sad Laura's blifs is with Lorenzo fled.
For thee, falfe youth, was every joy refign'd,
Young health, fweet peace, and innocence of mind ;
Are thefe the conftant vows thy tongue profefs'd,
When firft thy arms my yielding beauties prefs'd?
TTrtrs did thy kifs difpel my empty fears,
Or winning voice delight my raptarM ears ;
Thus fwore thy lips, by ocean, earth, and iky ;
By hell's dread powers, and Heaven's all-piercing eye? 1
Yawns not th? c^rave for thee ? why ITeeps the ftorm
To blaft thy limbs, and rend tny perjur'd form ?
Unmov'd, O faithlefs ! can)! thou hear my pain,
Like the proud rocks which brave th' unwearied main ?
Snoncr the fliipwreck*d pilot fhall appeafe
With fighs and howling winds, with tears the feas,
Tjtrin Laura's prayers thy heart unfeeling move,
O loft to fame, to honour, and to love I
Nurs'd
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. z$j
Nurs'd in dark caverns, on feme mountain wild*
To cruel manhood grew the daring child,
No female breaft fupply'd thy infant food,
But tygers growling o'er their favage brood.
Curs'd be that fatal hour thy charms were feen,
While yet this mind was gailtlefs and ferene !
With thee, falfe man, I urg'd my hafty flight,
And dar'd the horrors of tempeftuous night,
Nor fear'd with thee thro' plains unknown to rore,
Deaf to the dilates of paternal love.
In vain for me a parent's tears were fhed,
And to the grave defcends his hoary head !
When at my feet entranc'd my lover lay,
And pour'd in tender fighs his foul away,
Fond, foolifh heart ! to think the tale divine;
Why ftarted not my hands when prefs'd in thine ?
Too well remembrance paints the fatal hour
When Love, great conqueror, fummon'd all his power ;
When bolder grown, your glances flafh'd with fire,
And your pale lips all trembled with defire ;
Back to my heart my blood tumultuous flew,
From every pore diftill'd the chilling dew,
When Shame prefaging fpoke each future pain.
And ftruggling Virtue arm'd my foul in vain !
But, O let filence all my weaknefs veil,
And burning bluflies only tell the tale !
Ah, faithlefs man ! and thou more wretched maid !
To guilt, and grief, and mifery betray'd !
Far flies thy lover : to fome dulant plain
Now cleaves it's bounding bark the peaceful main ;
Avenging Heaven, that heard the vows he fwore,
Bid howl the blackening florin, and thunder roar,
Till waves on waves in tumbling mountains roll,
Now fink to hell, and now afcend the pole ;
Then on fome plank o'er foaming billows borne,
Trembling, his perjur'd faith the wretch lhall mourn ;
But
264 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Hut mourn in vain his vigorous arm mall fail,
Guilt fink him down, and angry Heav'n prevail ;
No friendly hand to earth his limbs convey,
But dogs and vultures tear the bloated prey !
Yet, ah, fond heart ! avert, kind Heaven, the ftrok,
My heart denies what trembling lips have fpoke.
The varying accents real nature prove,
And only fliew how wild a thing is love.
Go, much-lov'd youth ! with every blefling crown'd,
And Laura's wilhes ever guard thee round.
Me to the filent fhades, and fad retreat,
Where love's expiring flames forget their heat,
Death wooes all-powerful: ere he parts the clew,
Once more thy Laura bids her love adieu ;
Bids health and affluence every blifs afford,
Bids thee be lov'd, be happy, and ador'd !
In eafe, in mirth, glide each glad hour away ;
No pain to fpot thy fortune's cloudlefs day ;
No iigh to fwell, no tear to flow for me !
O grant, Heaven, all ! but grant thee conflancy !
Yet from my hand this laft addrefs receive ;
This Lift addrefs is all that hand can give.
In vain thy bark with fpreading canvas flies,
If thefe fad lines mail meet thy confcious eyes,
Ancix taught with winning eloquence to move,
The winds and waters waft the voice of love ;
That voice, (O grant what dying lips implore !)
Afks but one tear from thee, and afks no more !
Then world, farewel ! farewel life's fond defires,
Falfe fluttering hopes, and love's tormenting fires.
Already, Death, before my clofmg eyes
Thy airy forms and glimmering fhades arife.
Hark ! hear I not for me yon pafiing bell
Toll forth, with frequent paufc, it's fuilen knell ?
W;dti not for me yon fexton on his fpade,
Blithe whirling o'er the grave his toil has made?
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 265
Say, why yon hearfe with fading flowers is crown'd,
And midnight gales the deep-mouth'd dirge refound ?
Hail, filter worms ! and thou my kindred duft^
Secure to you my weary limbs I tnift.
Dim burns life's lamp ; O Death ! thy work compleat,
And give my foul to gain her laft retreat.
Such as before the birth of Nature fway'd,
Ere fpringing light the firft Great Word obey'd.
Let ulence reign ; come, Fate, exert thy might ;
And, Darknefs, wrap me in eternal night!
FINE SIGHTS;
OR, THE COUNTESS OF COVENTRY IN ELYSIUM.
WRITTEN IN THE YEAR MDCCLX.
BY DR. KENRICK.
ON the banks of the Styx, as a beautiful ghoft,
In refemblance the made of the Goddefs of Love^
Was revolving the days when a countefs and toaft
She flaunted about in the regions above ;
News arriv'd, which foon made all Elyfium to ring,
That the Fates a great monarch had fummon'd to reft,
In calling Old England's late father and king
To a crown of reward in the realms of the blefs'd.
My lady was vex'd to be robb'd of th' occafion,
By dying before him fo mal-a-propos,
Of feeing his royal young heir's coronation,
And making a party herfelf in the fhow.
L 1 She
2 66 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
S.he therefore in hafte flcipp'd away to the ferry
* Here, Charon ! you're empty ; come, take over me ;
' I'm refolv'd to go back to the world in your wherry,
' The only fine fight I e'er mifs'd of, to fee.'
Old Charon moft civilly bow'd to my lady;
Stepp'd out of his wherry, and handed her in ;
But finding me wanted a pafs, was as ready
Her ladyfhip roughly to turn out again.
Then fkudding away to the court in a hurry,
Direct, for a paflport, to Pluto me ran j
And put Madam Proferpine into a flurry,
Who thought me was come to feduce her good man.
Gloomy Dis grimly fmil'd at the lady's requeft,
But more at her whimfical motive and reafon;
And, having malignly a mind for a jeft,
Reprefented her fuit as a thing out of feafon.
' I -cannot,' faid he, lady fair,' with a frown,
' Indulge ev'ry ghoft in it's wanton defire ;
' But if for their fakes wife or hufband come down,
' I then might reftore the fond fouls they require.
e Since Orpheus, however, in rifque of his life,
' Long ago made us Hare with his mufick and pafllon,
' Not a foul hath come down, or for hufband or wife ;
' So that journies of this kind are quite out of faihion.
f Yet, as you're a beauty, the favour I grant ye ;
' But wherefore again mould you covet on earth,
' To mix with a crowd, that perhaps only want ye
* To make you the theme of impertinent mirth ?
Befides,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 267
' Befides, pretty lady, you're greatly miftaken,
' If pleafure you promife yourfelf in the fight ;
f For, unfeen by your friends, by admirers forfaken,
' There's none will regard an impalpable fprite.'
' Nay, nay !' quoth the countefs, ' if that be the cafe,
' Take your paflport again ; I'll have no more chagrin :
' A fig for fine fights, if unfeen one's fine face !
' What fignifies feeing, if one is not feen !'
THE CONTENTED PHILOSOPHER.
BY THE REV. MR. CUNNINGHAME.
DEEP filence reign'd, and dewy Night
Her filver veftment wore ;
The weftern gale breath'd calm delight,
And bufy day was o'er :
To hail Reflexion's hour I rofe,
Each throbbing care at reft ;
For facred Peace in mild repofe
Had lull'd my anxious breaft.
The breezy mount, the mifty vale,
Alternately I ftray'd ;
The Gothick fpire, the lonely cell,
My wandering eye furvey'd :
Till, where the trembling beams of night
O'er limpid currents play'd,
Meandering fix'd my roving fight
On deep Retirement's lhade,
1,1 z The
2 6$ BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
The unambitious dome, conceal'd,
Fear'd no intrufive foes ;
From Jeep-embowering trees reveal'd
The feat of calm repofe.
'Twas Sophron's grove, an aged fire,
Who, vers'd in Wifdom's lore,
Now tun'd his confecrated lyre,
To clofe. the filent hour.
The hallow'd ftrain inflam'd my breaft,
I gain'd the ruftick cell ;
The courteous father blefs'd his gueft,
Then gave th' inftru&ive tale.
* How falfe the aim of erring life !
' How fruitlefs the employ !
' That treads the pompous maze of flrife,,
In quejt of folid joy !
*. The plumy tribes unceafing
' Each verdant bough furvey ;
* But fix at laft their leafy home,
' Where fxlence wooes their flay :
' Where no alarming hinds invade,
' No fear their peace deftroys ;
' Remote in the fequefter'd fhade,
' They rear their callow joys.
' Thus reftlefs Nature loves to range,
' Thro' life's gay fcenes to rove ;
' Till Reafon prompts the happier change/
* To Contemplation's grove !
Whejo
BEAUTIES QF POETRY. 269
f When Fqrtune fmil'd, when Pleafure woo'd,
' How indolently gay,
f Life's tranfitory ftream I view'd
' Unheeded wafte away !
f The gay delufive dream once o'er,
' Calm Reafon's thoughts arife ;
f Obey'd the monitorial power,
That whifper'd, " Now, be wife !'*
f This filent grove my fearch furvey'd,
' Where Peace difplays her charms :
< How free Contentment's humble (hade
f From Fortune's wild alarms !
f Now free from each fantaftick flrife,
' Untroubled and ferene,
f I wait the doling hour of life,
' To leave it's empty fcene :
f For tides of blifs, that boundlefs roll
Around th' Eternal throne,
* Shall waft the perfevering foul
' To joys on earth unknown !
But, lo ! the fading ftars declare,
The eaftern herald blows,
f The hour of rofy morn is near,
' And Nature claims repofe.'
J figh'd, and thought it foon to part
From Wifdom's ivy'd cell ;
How ill my fympathizing heart
Could bid the fage, Farewel.
For
?7 BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
For wealth, be fouling peace my {hare !
With friendfhip's generous love ;
And, loft to each ambitious care,
Be mine the flowery grove !
There ftudious thought would wear the day,
In each inftru&ive page ;
Or happier fpeed the hours away,
In converfe with the fage.
Taught by the awful voice of Truth,
Life's fyren fnares to fly,
By Reafon's card conduft my youth,
And like my Sophron die !
THE BASTARD,
BY RICHARD SAVAGE,
IN gayer hours, when high my fancy ran,
The Mufe exulting, thus her lay began.
' Blefs'd be the Baftard's birth ! thro' wond'rous ways,
' He mines excentrick, like a comet's blaze !
* No fickly fruit of faint compliance He !
' He ! ftamp'd in Nature's mint of extafy !
? He lives to build, not boaft a generous race ;
* No tenth tranfinitter of a foolifh face.
' His daring hope no fire's example bounds ;
' His firft-born lights no prejudice confounds.
' He, kindling from within, requires no flame ;
- ' He glories in a Baftard's glowing name.
' Born to himfelf, by no pofleffion led,
* In freedom fofter'd, and by Fortune fed ;
Ner
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. t?l
' Nor guides, nor rules, his fov'reign choice controul,
' His body independent as his foul.
' Loos'd to the world's wide range; enjoin'd no aim;
' Prefcrib'd no duty, and afiign'd no name :
' Nature's unbounded fon, he ftands alone,
* His heart unbiafs'd, and his mind his own !
* O Mother, yet no mother ! 'tis to you,
' My thanks for fuch diftinguifh'd claims are due.
' You, unenflav'd to Nature's narrow laws,
' Warm championefs for Freedom's facred caufe,
From all the dry devoirs of blood and line,
' From ties maternal, moral and divine,
' Difcharg'd my grafping foul, pum'd me from more,
' And launch'd me into life without an oar.
' What had I loft, if conjugally kind,
' By nature hating, yet by vows confin'd,
' Untaught the matrimonial bounds to flight,
' And coldly confcious of a hufband's right,
' You had faint-drawn me with a form alone,
' A lawful lump of life by force your own !
' Then, while your backward will retrench'd defire,
' And unconcurring fpirits lent no fire,
' I had been born your dull, domeftick heir ;
f Load of your life, and motive of your care :
' Perhaps been poorly rich, and meanly great ;
' The flave of pomp, a cypher in the ftate ;
' Lordly neglectful of a worth unknown,
' And flumb'ring in a feat by chance my own.
' Far nobler bleflings wait the Baftard's lot ;
' Conceiv'd in rapture, and with fire begot !
* Strong as Neceffity, he ftarts away,
c Climbs againft wrongs, and brightens into day \*
Thus, unprophetick, lately mifinfpir'd,
I fung ; gay flutt'ring Hope my fancy fir'd ;
Inly fecure, thro' confcious fcorn of ill,
Nor taught by Wifdom how to balance will,
RaJhly
3 BEAUTIES OF POETRYj
Rafhly deceiv'd, I faw no pits to fhun ;
But thought, to purpofe, and to aft, were one;
Heedlefs what pointed cares pervert his way,
Whom caution arms not, and whom woes betray :
But now expos'd, and fhrinking from diftrefs,
I fly to melter, while the tempefts prefs ;
My Mufe to grief refigns the varying tone,
The raptures languiih, and the numbers groan !
O Memory ! thou foul of joy and pain !
Thou aftor of our paffions o'er again !
Why doft tLou aggravate the wretch's woe ?
Why add continuous fmart to every blow ?
Few are my joys ; alas ! how foon forgot !
On that kind quarter thou invad'ft me not }
While fharp and numberlefs my forrows fall*
Yet thou repeat'ft and multiply'ft 'em all !
Is chance a guilt ; that my difaft'rous heart>
For mifchief never meant, muft ever fmart ?
Can felf-defence be fin ? Ah, plead no more !
What tho' no purpos'd malice ftain'd thee o'er;
Had Heav'n befriended thy unhappy fide,
Thou had'ft not been provok'd or, thou had'ft died*
Far be the guilt of homefhed blood from all,
On whom, unfought, embroiling dangers fall 1
Still the pale dead revives, and lives to me ;
To me ! thro' Pity's eye condemn'd to fee.
Remembrance veils his rage, but fwells his fate ;
Griev'd I forgive, and am grown cool too late.
Young, and unthoughtful then ; who knows, one day^
What ripening virtues might have made their way 1
He might have liv'd, till Folly died in lhame,
Till kindling Wifdom felt a thirft for fame.
He might perhaps his country's friend have prov'd ;
Both happy, gen'rous, candid, and belov'd :
He might have fav'd fome worth, now doom'd to fall )
And I, perchance, in him, have murder'd alL
O fate
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 273
O fate of late repentance ! always vain :
Thy remedies but lull untying pain.
Where fhall my hope find reft ! No mother's care
Shielded my infant innocence with prayer ;
No father'o guardian hand my youth maintain'd>
Call'd forth my virtues, or from vice reftrain'd.
Is it not thine to fnatch fome pow'rful arm,
Firft to advance, then fcreeu from future harm ?
I am return'd from death> to live in pain ;
Or would imperial Pity fave in vain ?
Diftruft it not : what blame can Mercy find,
Which gives at once a life, and rears a mind ?
Mother, mifcall'd, farewel ! of foul fevere.
This fad reflection yet may force one tear :
All I was wretched by, to you I ow'd 5
Alone from ftrangers ev'ry comfort flow'd !
Loft to the life you gave, your fon no more,
And now adopted, who was doom'd before ;
New-born, I may a nobler mother claim,
But dare not whifper her immortal name :
Supremely lovely, and ferenely great !
Majeftick mother of a kneeling ftate !
Queen of a people's heart, who ne'er before
Agreed yet now with one confent adore !
One conteft yet remains in this defire,
Who moft mail give applaufe, where all admire.
ROBIN.
A PASTORAL ELEGY.
BY CAPT. JOHN DOfiSON.
DO W N by the brook which glides thro' yonder vale,
His hair all matted, and his cheeks all pale,
Robin, fad fwain, by love and forrow pain'd,
Of flighted vows, and Sufan, thus complaLn'd.
M m * Hear
274 BEAUTIES OF POETRV.
' Hear me, ye groves, who faw me blefs'd fo late ;
' Echo, you hills, my fad reverfe of fate ;
' Ye winds, that bear my fighs, foft murmurs fend ;
' Come pay me back, ye ftreams, the drops I lend :
* And you, fweet Sufan, fource of all my fmart,
' Beftow fome pity on a broken heart,
' Happy the times, by painful memory blefs'd,
When you pofleffing, Robin all poffefs'd !
' Pafs'd by your fide, each day brought new delight,.
' And one fweet (lumber fhorten'd every night.
' My play your fervice, for no toil feem'd hard,
' When your kind favour was the hop'd reward.
' I rofe to milking, though 'twas ne'er fo cool ;
' I call'd the cows up ; I kept off the bull :
' Home on my head I bore the pail upright j.
' The pail was heavy, but love made it light ;
' And when you fpilt the milk, and 'gan to cry,
' I took the blame, and fimply faid " 'Twas I."
' When by the haycock's fide you fleeping lay,
' Sent by good angels, there I chanc'd to ftray,.
' Jufl as a loathfcme adder rear'd his creft,
' To dart his poifon in your lily breaft,
' Straight with a ftone I crufh'd the monfter's head ;
' You wak'd, and iinted, though you found him dead f
' Then, from the pond, I water brought apace,
* My hat brimful, and dafh'd it in your face :
' Still, blue as bilberry, your cold lips did quake>
* Till my warm kifTes call'd the cherry back.
c When, looking thro' his worftup's garden-gate,
' Ripe peaches tempted, and you long'd to eat ;
* Tho' the grim maftiff growl'd, and fternly ftalk'd,
' Tho' guns were loaded, and old Madam walk'd ;
f Nor dogs nor darknefs, guns or ghofts, could fright,
' When Robin ventur'd for his Sue's delight :
1 Joyful of midnight, quick I poft away,
* Leap the high wall, and fearlefs pluck the prey ;
* Down
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 2?5
Down in your lap a plenteous fhower they fall ;
Glad you receiv'd them, and you eat them all.
When fair-day came,, I donn'd my Sunday fuit,
Brufh'd the beft pillion clean, and faddled Cutt.
Then ap we got ; you clung about my waifl;
Pleas'd to be hugg'd, I charg'd yoa clip me faft ;
And when you loos'd your hold, and backwards flipp'd,
I lield you-r petticoats, and never peep'd.
The pofied garters, and the top-knot fine,
The golden gingerbread, and all was mine :
I paid the pappet-fhow, the cakes', the fack ;
And, fraught with fairings, brought you laughing back.
Sufan but fpoke, and each gay flower was there,
To drefs her bough-pot, or adorn her hair j
For her the chdiceft of the woods I cull,
Sloes, hips, and ftrawberries, her bellyful ;
My hoard of apples I to her coufefs'd ;
My heart was her's, well might (he have the reft.
And Sufan well approv'd her Robin's care :
Yes, you was pleas'd ; at leaft you faid you were.
In love's foft fire you feem'd like me to burn,
And footh'd my fondnefs with a kind return.
At our long table, when we fat to dine ?
You ftretch'd your knees, and mingled feet with mine ;
With fattell bacon you my trencher ply'd,
And flic'd my pudding from the plummy fide :
And well I wot, when our fmall-beer was ftale,
You ftole into the barn, and brought me ale.
But, oh ! the foldier, blafter of my hopes !
(Curfe on pretending kings, and Papifli popes !)
He came from Flanders with the red-coat crew,
To fight with rebels, and he conquer'd you.
His dowlas ruffles, and his copper lace.
His brickduit ftockings, and his brazen face ;
Thefe are the charms for which you flight my youth 4
Charms much too potent for a maiden's truth, !
T> m z ' Scon
276 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
* Soon on the feather'd fool you turn'd your eyes;
* Eager you liften'd to the braggart's lyes ;
' And, fcorning me, your heart to him refigo,
* Your faithlefs heart, by vows and fervice mine.
' True, he is gone, by our brave duke's command,
' To humble Britain's foe: in foreign land :
' Ah, what is that ! the fpoiler bears away
' The only thing for which 'twas worth to flay.
* But forrow's dry ; PI! flake it in the brook
' O well-a-day ! how frightful pale I look !
" Care's a confumer," (fo tha faying fpeaks ;)
' The faying's true, I read it in my cheeks.
' Fye ! I'll be chearful, 'tis a fancied pain ;
' A flame fo conflant cannot meet difdain :
I'll wafli my face, and make off foul defpair j
My love is kind !-^-alas, I would fhe were!
' Well fays our parfon ; and our parfon faid,
" True love, and tithes, mould ever well be paid."
f Sufan, from you my heart fhall never roam,
If your's be wandering, quickly call it home.'
TO THX RIGHT HON.
LADY ANNE COVENTRY.
VPON VIEWING HER FINE CHIMNEY-PIECE Op SHELL-
WORK.
BY MR. SOMERVILLE.
TH E greedy merchant plows the fea for gain,
And rides exulting o'er the watery plain ;
While howling tempefts, from their rocky bed,
Indignant break around his careful head.
The royal fleet the liquid wafte explores,
And fpeaks in thunder to the trembling mores }
The
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 377
The voice of wrath awak'd, the nations hear,
The vanquifh'd hope, and the proud viftors fear;
Thofe quit their chain, and thefe refign their palm.
While Britain's awful flag commands a calm.
The curious fage, nor gain nor fame purities,
With other eyes the boiling deep he views j
Hangs o'er the cliff inquifitive to know
The fecret caufes of it's ebb and flow ;
Whence breathe the winds that rurfle it's fmooth face.
Or ranks in clafles all the fifty race,
From thofe ^enormous mongers of the main,
Who in their world, like other tyrants, reign,
To the poor cockle-tribe, that humble band.
Who cleave to rocks, or loiter on the ftrand.
Yet even their fliells the Forming Hand divine
Has, with diflinguifli'd luftre, taught to fliine.
What bright enamel ! and what various dyes !
What lively tints delight our wondering eyes !
Th' Almighty Painter glows in every line :
How mean, alas ! is Raphael's bold defign,
And Titian's colouring, if compar'd to thine!
Juftly Supreme ! let us thy power revere,
Thou fill'ft all fpace ! all-beauteous every where !
Thy rifmg fun with blu{hes paints the mern ;
Thy mining lamps the face of night adorn ;
Thy flowers the meads, thy nodding trees the hills ;
The vales thy paftures green, and bubbling rills :
Thy coral groves, thy rocks that amber weep,
Deck all the gloomy manfions of the deep ;
Thy yellow fands, diftinft with golden ore,
And thefe thy variegated fliells, the ihore !
To all thy works iuch grandeur haft thou lent,
And fuch extravagance of ornament.
For the falfe traitor, man, this pomp and (how ?
A fcene fq gay, for us poor worms below ?
No!
278 BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
No ! for thy glory all thefe beauties rife ;
Yet may improve the good, inftruft the wife.
You, Madam, fprung from Beaufort's royal line,
Who, loft to courts, can in your clofet fhine,
Beft know to ufe each bleffing he beftows,
Beft know to praife the Power from whence it flows.
Shells in your hand the Parian rock defy,
Or agate, or ^Egyptian porphyry ;
More glofly they, their veins of brighter dye.
See '. where your riling pyramids afpire ;
Your guefts, furpriz'd, the mining pile admire !
In future times, if fome great Phidias rife,
Whofe chiflel with his miftrefs Nature vies,
Who, with fuperior (kill, can lightly trace,
In the hard marble block, the fofteil face ;
To crown this piece, fo elegantly neat,
Your well-wrought bufto lliall the whole compleat j
O'er your own work from age to age prefide,
Jt's author once, and then it's greateft pride,
THE YOUNG WIDOW.
BY MR. CHARLES DENIS.
HU L S E fhook his head ; poor Damon lay a dying 3
And clofe by his bed-fide his wife fat crying :
f O ftay !' me faid ; and muft we part !
' My foul, like thine, is on the wing :
Methinks, I feel Death's iron dart ;
' But, oh ! 'tis that which wounds thy heart,
' That bears to mine the fting !'
Her grief was great, fo was her moan,
And much to die me feem'd inclin'd j
Howe'er, me let him go alone,
And prudently remain'd behind.
A week, or fo, was paft and gone,
Still fh,e continu'd weeping on,
When
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 279
When to her houfe her father came,
And thus addrefs'd the mournful dame :
My child,' faid he, ' enough of tears you've fhed ;
' Think of the living, and forget the dead.
' Another fpoufe don't ftartle at the word,
} Tis but a fecond ; you may have a third !
' As foon as decency permits,
' I have a hufband to propofe ;
' Young, handfome, rich, juft one of thofe
* That's form'd to cure a widow's fits.*
Ah, Sir ! is this a father's part,
' To wound afrefh a bleeding heart ?
Shall I another hufband wed ? V .
' Oh, no ! my only love is dead :
' Nor will I other wedding have,
Till I am bedded in his grave I* > :
The father left her to digeft
The wife and prudent things he faid ;
He put the hufband in her head,
And Time, he knew, would do the reft.
The cares of mourning next took place,
To drefs her grief, and fuit her face :
'Twas Cupid's thought ; for what exceeds
A pretty widow in her weeds !
And now each looking-glafs could tell
That black became her vaftly well.
The fmiles and graces, that were fcar'd away,
With all the band of little loves,
And Cytherjea's doves,
Came dropping in each day.
The father, if report fays true,
Another vifit made, ere mourning over ;
I'm glad, my dear,' faid he, ' fo well to find you !'
But mention'd not a word of the new lover :
At which fhe blufh'd ' Mud I then, Sir, remind you ?
The
2 8e BEAUTIES OF POET&V.
" The thing's too ferious to be made a joke of :
Where is the hufband, pray, that once you fpoke of r*
Wide is the difference, as you fee it here,
*Twixt widow of a. day, and widow of a year.
All lenient Time expands his wings,
Away he flies with human cares ;
Then back, full fraught with joy, repairs,
And every balmy comfort brings.
Time checks the mourning hufband's fighs ;
'Tis he congeals the falling tear,
To form the lovely lucid leer,
Which fparkles in a widow's eyes.
.ON OCCASION OF THE PEACE.
WRITTEN IN THK YEAR M DCC LXII.
BY THE REV. MR. FRANCIS FAWKES.
Peace o'er the world her olive wand extends,
And Uyhite-rob'd Innocence from heaven defeends. FOPS.
ADIEU, the horrors of deftruclive war,
,L\, And mad Bellona in her iron car !
But welcome to our fmiling fields again,
Sweet Peace ! attended with thy jocund train,
Truth, Virtue, Freedom, that can never cloy,
And all the pleafing family of Joy.
Thofe fchemes purfu'd, which Pitt fo wifely plann'd,
Conqueft has fhower'd her bleffings on the land ;
And Britain's fons more laurels have obtain'd,
Than all her Henry's, or her Edward's gain'd.
George faw with joy the peaceful period given,
And bow'd obedient to the will of Heaven :
Awful
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 2 Si
Awful he rofe to bid diflention ceale,
And all the warring world was calm'd to peace ;
Thus did the roaring waves their rage compofe,
When the great father of the floods arole.
Then came Aftrea mild, our ifle to blefs,
Fair queen of virtue, and of happinefs !
Then came our troops, in fighting fields renown'd,
And mark'd with many an honourable wound.
The tender fair one, long by fears opprefs'd,
Now feels foft raptures rifing in her breaft,
The blooming hero of her heart to view,
And hear him bid the dangerous camp adieu.
The widow'd bride, that long on grief had fed,
And bath'd with weeping the deferted bed,
Glad that the tumults of the war are o'er,
That terror, rage, and rapine are no more,
Greets her rough lord, fecure from hollile harms.
And hopes an age of pleafure in his arms :
While he, with pompous eloquence, recites
Dire fcenes of cailles ftorm'd, and defperate fights ;
Or tells how Wolfe the free-born Britons led,
How Granby conquer'd, and the Houfliold fled ;
She, to the pleafing dreadful tale intent,
Now fmiles, now trembles, for the great event.
O curs'd ambition, foe to human good,
Pregnant with woe, and prodigal of blood !
Thou fruitful fource, whence ftreams of forrow flow,
What devaftations to thy guilt we owe !
Where'er thy fury riots, aJl around
Confufion, havock, and dread deaths abound :
Where Ceres flourifli'd, and gay Flora finiKd,
Behold a barren, folitary wild !
To ftately cedars, thorns and briars fucceed,
And in the garden fpreads the noxious weed ;
Where cattle paftur'd late, the purple plain,
Sad fccne of horror ! teems with heroes flain ;
N n Where
282 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Where the proud palace rear'd it's haughty head,
Deep in the dult, fee crumbling columns fpread ;
See gallant Britons in the field expire,
Towns turn'd to alhes, fanes involv'd in fire !
Thefe deeds" the guilt of ram Ambition tell,
And bloody Difcord, furious fiend of hell !
Ye baneful fillers, with your frantick crew,
Hence fpeed your flight, and take your laft adieu,
Eternal wars in barbarous worlds to wage j
There vent your inextinguifhable rage.
But come, fair Peace, and be the nation's bride,
And let thy filler Plenty grace thy fide ;
O come ! and with thy placid prefence chear
Our drooping hearts, and flay for ever here.
Now be the mrill ftrife-ftirring trumpet mute ;
Now let us liflen to the fofter lute :
The fhepherd now his numerous flocks mall feed,
Where war relentlefs doom'd the brave to bleed ;
On ruin'd ramparts mail the hawthorn flower,
And mantling ivy clafp the nodding tower ;
Unufual harvefts wave along the dale,
And the bent fickle o'er the fword prevail.
No more mall fktes with riv::! rage contend,
But Arts their empire o'er the world extend ;
Ingenuous Arts, that humanize the mind,
And give the brighteft polifh to mankind !
Then mall our chiefs in breathing marble Hand,
, And life feem rhrting from the fculptor's hand ;
Then lovely nymphs in living pifture rife,
The faireft faces, and the brighteft eyes :
There polifh'd Lane * no lofs of beauty fears ;
Her charms, ftill mellowing with revolving years,
Shall, e'en on canvas, youthful hearts engage,
And warm the cold indifference of age :
* The Hon. Mn. Lane, daughter of the Right Hon. Lord Chancellor
Henley, and wife to th- Hon. Mr. Lane.
Thea
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 283
Then the firm arch (hall (tern the roaring tide.
And join thofe countries which the ftreams divide !
Then villas rife of true Palladian proof,
And the proud palace rear it's ample roof;
Then ftatelier temples to the flcies afcend,
Where mix'd with nobles mighty kings may bend,
Where Poverty may fend her fighs to Heaven,
And Guilt return, repent, and be forgiven.
Such are the fruits which facred Peace imparts,
Sweet nurfe of liberty and learned arts !
Thefe me reftores O ! that^fhe could reftore
Life to thofe Britons who now breathe no more;
Who in th' embattled field undaunted flood,
And greatly perifh'd for their country's good ;
Or who, by rage of angry tempefls tofs'd,
In whirlpools of the whelming main were loll.
Ye honour'd (hades of chiefs untimely (lain !
Whofe bones lie fcatter'd on fome foreign plain ;
That now perchance by lonely hind are feen
In glittering armour gliding o'er the green ;
Ye ! that beneath the cold cerulean wave
Have made the watery element your grave,
Whofe wandering fpirits haunt the winding more,
Or ride on whirlwinds while the billows roar,
With kind protection ftill our iile defend,
(If fouls unbodied can protection lend)
Still o'er the king your (hadowy pinions fpread,
And in the day of danger (hield his head ;
Your bright examples (hall our pattern be,
To make us valiant, and to keep us free.
N n z AMINTA.
284 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
A M I N T A.
AN I L E G Y.
BY THE REV. MR. GERRARD.
AN o'ergrown wood my wandering fteps invade,
With furface mantled in untrodden fnow ;
Dire haunt ! for none but favage moniters made,
Where frofts defcend, and howling tempcfts blow,
Here, from the fearch of bufy mortals ftray'd,
My woe-worn foul mall hug her galling chain :
For fure, no foreil boafls too deep a made,
No haunt too wild, for mifery to remain.
O my Aminta ! dear diftrafting name !
Late all my comfort, all my fond delight ;
Still writhes my fouf beneath it's torturing flame,
Still thy pale image fills my aching fight !
When mall vain Memory (lumber o'er her woes?
When to oblivion be her tale refign'd ?
When mail this fatal form in death repofe,
Like thine, fair victim, to the duft confign'd ?
Again the accents faulter on my tongue ;
Again, to tear the confcious tear fuccceds ;
From iharp reflection is the dagger fprung,
And Nat-ire, wounded to the centre, bleeds.
Ye bitter ikies ! upon the tale defcend ;
Ye blafts, tho' rude your vifits, lend an ear j
Around, ye gentler oaks, your branches bend ;
And, as ye liften, drop an icy tear !
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
*Twas when the ftep with confcious pleafure roves,
Where round the fhades the circling woodbines throng ;
When Flora wantons o'er th' enamell'd groves,
And feather'd choirs indulge the amorous fong :
Infpir'd by duteous love, I fondly ftray'd,
Two milk-white doves officious to enfnare ;
Beneath a filent thicket as they play'd,
A grateful prefent for my fofter fair.
But, ah ! in fmiles no more they met my fight,
Their ruffled heads lay gafping on the ground :
Where my dire emblem ! a rapacious kite
Tore their foft limbs, and ftrew'd their plumes around*
The tear of pity Hole irtto my eye ;
While ruder paflions in their turn fucceed ;
Forbid the viftims unreveng'd to die,
And doom the author of their wrongs to bleed*
With hafty ftep, enrag'd, I homewards ran ;
Curfe on my fpeed ! th' unerring tube I brought J
That fatal hour, my date of woe began,
Too fharp to tell, too horrible for thought !
Difaft'rous deed ! irrevocable ill !
How mail I tell the anguim of my fate I
Teach me, remorfelefs monfters, not to feel,
Inftrudl me, fiends and furies, to relate I
Wrathful behind the guilty (hade I ftole,
I rais'd the tube the clamorous woods refound-*
Too late I faw the idol of my foul,
Struck by my aim, fall ftmeking to the ground !
tftf
&6 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
No other blifs her foul allow'd but me ;
(Haplefs the pair that thus indulgent prove!)
She fought concealment from a fliady tree,
In amorous filence to obferve her lov.
I ran ; but O ! too foon I found it true !
From her ftain'd breaft life's crimfon ftream'd apace ;
From her wan eyes the fparkling luftres flew ;
The Ihort-liv'd rofes faded from her face !
Gods ! could I bear that fond reproachful look,
That ftrove her peerlefs innocence to plead !
But partial death awhile her tongue forfook,
To fave a wretch that doom'd himfelf to bleed.
While I, diftrafted, prefs'd her in my arms,
And fondly ftrove t' imbibe her lateft breath ;
c O fpare, ram love !' me cry'd, ' thy fatal charms,
' Nor feck cold fhelter in the arms of death.
1 Content beneath thy erring hand I die !
f Our fates grew envious of a blifs fo true ;
' Then urge not thy diflrefs when -low I lie,
' But in this breath receive my lail adieu 1*
No more me fpake, but droop'd her lily head !
In death (he ficken'd breathlefs haggard pale !
While all my inmoft foul with horror bled,
And afk'd kind vengeance from the pafling gale.
Where flept your bolts, ye lingering lightnings fay !
Why riv'd ye not this felf-condemned breaft !
Or why, too paflive Earth, didft thou delay !
To ftretch thy jaws, and crufh me into reft?
Low
3EAUTIES OF POETRY. 287
Low in the duft the beauteous corfe I plac'd,
Bedew'd and foft with many a falling tear ;
With fable yew the riling turf I grac'd,
And bade the cyprefs mourn in filcnce near.
Oft as bright morn's all-fearching eye returns,
Full to my view the fatal fpot is brought ;
Thro' fleeplefs night my haunted fpirit mourns,
No gloom can hide me from diftrafting thought.
When, fpotlefs vi&im, ftiall my form deca y !
This guilty load, fay, when mall I refign !
When (hall my fpirit wing her chearlefs way,
And my cold corfe lie treafur'd up with thine !
THE AFRICAN PRINCE,
IN ENGLAND, TO ZARA AT HIS FATHER'S COURT.
WRITTEN IN THE YEAR MDCCXLIX.
BY DR. DODD.
PRINCES, my fair, unfortunately great,
Born to the pompous vaflalage of itate,
Whene'er the publick calls, are doom'd to fly
Domeftick 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 dow'r :
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'
288 BEAUTIES OF POETRY..
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 ftutn.
Ah ! why diftinguifli'd from the happier crowd,
To me the blifs of millions difallow'd ?
Why was I Singled 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 well my mem'ry can thefe fcenes renew,
We met to figh, to weep our laft adieu.
That confcious palm, beneath whofe tow'ring made
, So oft our vows of mutual love were made ;
Where hope fo oft anticipated joy,
And plann'd, of future years, the beft 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 breafl :
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 blefs'd 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 fbme peaceful more,
Where love's the bufmefs of immortal life,
And happy fpirits only guefs at ftrife.
* If in fome dillant land my prince mould find
Some nymph more fair,' you cry'd, c as Zara kind-'
Myfterious doubt ! which could at once impart
Belief to mine, and anguifli to thy heart.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 289
Still let me triumph in the fear exprefs'd,
The voice of love that whifper'd in thy bread :
Nor call me cruel; for my truth mall prove
'Twas but the vain anxiety of love.
Torn from thy fond embrace, the flrand I gain,
Where mourning friends inflift fuperfluous pain ;
My father there his ftruggling fighs fupprefs'd,
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 purfu'd !
' If, when the gracious gods my fon reftore,
* Thefe eyes mall fleep in death, to wake no more ;
' If then thefe limbs, that now in age decay,
' Shall mould'ring mix with earth's parental clay ;
' 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 boalt a monarch's godlike ftate !
Subject, alike, the peafant and the king,
To life's dark ills, and care's corroding lling.
From guilt and fraud, that flrike in filence fure,
No mield 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 cafe, a thoufand fervants round,
My wants prevented, and my wimes crown'd,
No painful labours ftretch'd the tedious day,
On downy feet my moments danc'd away.
Where'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 1
O o What
290 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
What dreadful change ! abandon'd and alone,
The fhouted prince is now a flave unknown ;
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 !'
Unwholefome fcraps my ftrength but half fuftain'd,
From corners glean'd, and e'en by dogs difdain'd ;
At night I mingled with a wretched crew,
Who, by long ufe, with woe familiar grew ;
Of manners brutiih, mercilefs, and rude,
They mock'd my fufferings, and my pangs renew'd:
In groans, not fleep, I pafs'd the weary night,
And rofe 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 blefs'd,
And fill'd with love my intervals of reft,
Short tho' they were, my foul had never known
One fecret wifli to glitter on a throne ;
The toilfome day had heard no figh of mine,
Nor ftripes, nor fcorn, had urg'd me to repine.
A monarch, ftill beyond a monarch blefs'd,
Thy love my diadem, my throne thy breaft ;
My courtiers, watchful of my looks, thy eyes,
Should mine, perfuade, and flatter, and advife ;
Thy voice my muilck, and thy arms mould be
Ah ! not the prifon of a fiave in me !
Could I with infamy content remain,
And wi(h thy lovely form to iliare my chain ?
Could this bring eafe ! Forgive th* unworthy thought,
And let the love that finn'd atone the fault.
Could
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 291
Gould I, a flave, and hopelefs to be free,
Crawl, tamely recent from the fcoiirge, 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 Heav'n, of me let Zara learn.
The wretch, the fordid hypocrite, who fold
His charge, an unfufpe&ing prince, for gold,
That Juftice mark'd, whofe eyes can never fleep,
And death commifiion'd, fihote 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 hafle commanded, and the flave was freed.
No more Britannia's cheek, the blufh of mame,
Burns for my wrongs, her king reftores her fame !
Propitious gales, to Freedom's happy more
Waft me triumphant, and the prince reftore j
Whate'er is great and gay around me fhine,
And all the fplendor of a court is mine !
Here Knowledge, too, by piety refin'd,
Sheds a bright radiance o'er my bright'ning mind;
From earth I travel upward to the flcy ;
I learn to live, to reign, yet more to die.
O ! I have tales to tell of Love Divine ;
Such blifsful tidings ! they (hall foon be thine.
I long to tell thee, what, amaz'd, I fee,
What habits, buildings, trades, and polity !
How art and nature vie to entertain
Jn publick fhows, and mix delight with pain.
O o 2 O Zara !
292 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Zara! here, a ftory like my own *,
With mimick fkill, in borrow'd names, was mown ;
An Indian chief, like me, by fraud betray'd,
And partner in his woes an Indian maid.
1 can't recal the fcenes, 'tis pain too great ;
And, if recail'd, mould mudder to relate !
To write the wonders here, I ftrive in vain ;
Each word would afk a thoufand to explain.
The time (hall come, O fpeed the lingering hour t
When Zara's charms mall lend defcription pow'r ;
When plac'd befide thee in the cool alcove,
Or thro' the green favannahs as we rove,
The frequent kifs mail interrupt the tale,
And looks mail fpeak my fenfe, tho' language fail.
Then (hall the prodigies that round me rife,
Fill thy dear bofom with a fweet furprize ;
Then all my knowledge to thy faithful heart.
With danger gain'd, fecurely I'll impart^
Methinks I fee thy changing looks exprefs
Th' alternate fenfe of pleafure and diflrefs 3
As all the windings of my fate I trace,
And wing thy fancy fwift from place to place.
Yet where, alas ! has flatt'ring thought convey'4
The ravifh'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 pow'r mall 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.
Farewel ! thy prince ftill lives, and ftill is free :
Farewel 1 hope all things, and remember me.
* He alludes to the play of Oroonoko ; at which he was prefent, and Co af-
fected as to be unable to continue; during it's performance, in the houfe.
ZARA,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
295
Z A R A,
AT THK COURT OP ANAMAEOE, TO THE AFRICAN
WHEN IN ENGLAND.
BY THE SAME.
SHOULD I the language of my heart conceal,
Nor warmly paint the paffion that I feel ;
My rifmg wifh fliould groundlefs fears confine,
And doubts ungen'rous chill the glowing line ;
Would not my prince, with nobler warmth, difJain
That love, as languid, which could Hoop to feign ?
Let guilt difTemble in my faithful breaft
Love reigns unblam'd, and be that love confefs'd.
I give my bofom naked to thy view,
For what has fharne 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 P
O ! art thou fafe on Britain's happy more,
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, hold ! barbarians of the nerceft kind !
Fear Heav'n's red lightning 'tis a prince ye bind!
A prince whom no indignities could hide,
They kpew, prefumptuous \ and the gods dcfy'd.
Where'er
194 BEAUTIES OF POETRT.
Where'er he moves, let Icve-join'd reverence rife,
And all mankind behold with Zara's eyes 1
Thy breaft alone, when bounding'o'er the wav<
To Freedom's climes, from flavery and Haves';
Thy breaft alone the pleafing thought could frame
Of what I felt, when thy dear letters came :
A thoufand times I held them to my breaft,
A thoufand times my lips the paper prefs'd :
My full heart panted with a joy too ftrong,
And ' Oh, my prince!' dy'd fault'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 blefs'd deluiion fpread.
* Come, come, my prince ! my charmer! hafte away;
' Come, come !' I cry'd, ' thy Zara blames thy ftay.
' For thee the fhrubs their richeft fweets retain;
' For thee new colours wait to paint the plain ;
' For thee cool breezes linger in the grove ;
The birds expect 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 charm?,
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, uniting majefty with love !'
Too foon, alas ! the blefs'd delufion flies j
Care fwells my breaft, and forrow fills my eye*.
Ah ! why do thy fond words fuggeft a fear ;
Too vaft, too numerous, thofe already here !
Ah ! why with doubts torment my bleeding breaft,
Of feas which ftorms-controul, and foes infeft !
My heart, iu all this tedious abfence, knows
No thoughts but thofe of feas, and ftorms., and foes.
Ead*
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. z 95
Each joylefs morning, with the rifing fun,
Quick 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 exprefs'd,
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 ;
Day follow'd day, the wifh'd to-morrow came,
My hopes, doubts, fears, anxieties, the fame:
At length ' O Power Supreme ! whoe'er thou art,
' Thy fhrine the fey, the fea, the earth, or heart ;
' Since every clime, and all th' unbounded main,
' And hoftile barks, and ftorms, are thy domain,
' If faithful paflicm 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 !
Together then, and emulous to praife,
' A flowery altar to thy name we'll raife j
' There, firft and laft, 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 I fondly hope one joy to prove,
' Midft all the wild anxieties of love ?
Had fate in other mould thy Zara form'd,
And my bold breaft in manly friendlhip warm'd,
How had I glow'd exulting at thy fide !
How all the (hafts of adverfe fate defy'd !
Or yet a woman, and not nerv'd for toil,
With thee, O had I turn'd a burning foil !
6 BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
In the cold prifon had I lain with thee,
In love ftill 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 fliouldft thou bid thy love remember thee ?
Thine all my thoughts have been, and ftill mall be.
Each night the cool favannahs have I fought,
And breath'd the-fondnefs of enamour'd thought ;
The curling breezes murmur'd as I figh'd,
And hoarfe, at diitance, roar'd my foe, the tide :
My bread ftill haunted by a motley train,
Now doubts, now hopes prevail'd, now joy, now pain !
Now fix'd I ftand, my fpirit fled to thine,
Nor note the time, nor fee the fun decline !
Now rou7,'d I ftart, and wing'd with fear I run ;
In vain, alas ! for 'tis myfelf I fiiun !
When kindly fleep it's lenient balm fupply'd,
And gave that comfort waking thought deny'd.
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 !
Heaven'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,
Bonie 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 !'
4 'Tis done, 'tis done !' refounded through the ikies.
And quick aloft the car began to rife ;
Ten thoufand beauties crouded on my fight,
Ten. thoufand glories beam'd a dazzling light.
My
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
My thoughts could bear no more, the vilion 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 flruggling bread ;
Sure we mall meet again, again be blefs'd.
Hope all,' thou fay'ft, I live, and flill am free ;'
O then prevent thofe hopes, and hafte to me !
Eafe all the doubts thy Zara's bofom knows,
And kindly ftop the torrent of her woes.
But, that I know too well thy gen'rous heart,
One doubt, than all, more torment would impart : f
'Tis this. In Britain's happy courts to mine,
Amidft a thoufand blooming maids, is thine :
But thou a thoufand blooming maids among,
Art ftill thyfelf, incapable of wrong ;
No outward charm can captivate thy mind,
Thy love is friendfhip heighten'd and rehn'd ;
'Tis what my foul, and not my form in/pires,
And burns with fpotlefs and immortal fires.
Thy joys, like mine, from confcious truth arife,
And, known thefe 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 pleafmg tears, and be with joy dillrefs'd ?
Let me ftill 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 delire;
My pen denies my laft fare\vel to write,
Still, ftill * Return,' my wimful thoughts indite:
O hear, my prince, thy love, thy miftrefs call,
Think o'er each tender name, and hear by all!
P p O pleafing
298 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
O 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 !
ON MR. NASH's PICTURE
AT FULL LENGTH, BETWEEN THE BUSTS OF SIR ISAAC
NEWTON AND MR. POPE, AT BATH.
BY THE EARL OF CHESTERFIELD.
TH E old Egyptians hid their wit
In hieroglyphick drefs,
To give men pains in fearch of it,,
And pleafe themfelves with guefs.
Moderns, to hit the felf-fame path,
And exercife their parts,
Place figures in a room at Bath :
Forgive them, God of Arts !
Newton, if I can judge aright,
All Wifdom does exprefs ;
His knowledge gives mankind delight,
Adds to their happinefs.
Pope is the emblem of true Wit,
The funfhine of the mind ;
Read o'er his works in fearch of it,
You'll endlefs pleafure find.
Nafh
BEAUTIES OF POETRY, 299
Nafh reprefents man in the mafs,
Made up of wrong and right ;
Sometimes a king, fcm crimes an afs ;
Now blunt, and now polite.
The picture plac'd the hurts between,
Adds to the thought much ftrength ;
Wifdom and Wit are little feen,
But Folly's at full length,
AMABELLA*.
BY MR. JERNINGHAM.
HARMODIUS breath'd the rural air, nor found
His ruddy health with length of years decreafe :
By duty prompted, Amabella crown 'd
His filver forehead with the wreath of peace :
By partial Nature franvd in Beauty's mould,
Adorn'd with every grace, unfpoil'd' by art,
To Friendmip's circle Mill did fhe unfold
The lovelier beauties of a feeling heart.
Endear'd to all flie met, each welcome day,
By Fortune's hand, with various bleffings fraught :
When, lo ! her gaiety's accuftom'd ray
Was quench'd, untimely, with the gloom of thought.
* The fubjecl of this poem is founded on a circumflance that happened du-
ring the late war. A young lady, not meeting with the concurrence of her
Delations in favour of an officer for whom (lie exprelll-J her regard, wa-; pi."
upon, by his folicitations, to confcnt to a clandestine marriage ; which to*!:
place on the day he fet out to join his regiment alroaJ, where he was unfor-
tunately killed in an engagement.
P p 2 \VJ.at
300 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
What fix'd the bofom-thorn, affliction knows,
Where Peace fat brooding as the gentle dove ;
What blafted on her cheek the fummer rofe,
Or flow difeafe, or unfuccefsful love,
Remain'd unknown. 'Tvvas by the many guef>'d,
That love to her foft vows had prov'd unkind ;
Beyond the power of her weak frame opprefs'd,
Infanity o'erthrew her lovely mind.
At length recovering, yet to grief devote,
To folitude flie gave th' unfocial day ;
Like a pale vot'ry from the world remote,
Unchear'd, unvifited of Pleafure's ray.
Oft did Harmodius (at her ftate difmay'd)
Solicit from his child her fecret pain :
Her vague reply Hill from his queltion ftray'd.
And ,each repeated effort prov'd in vain.
To fpeed the moments of the loitering hour,
And by their plaintive ftrains perchance allur'd,
Within a fpacious myrtle-woven bower,
Two turtle doves the penfive fair fecur'd.
' Ye little captives,' would me often fay,
' Tho' hrre fecluded from the fields of air,
Thro' yonder vernal grove forbid to flray,
* And join the kindred train that wanton there ;
' 'Gainft you the gunner never lifts his arm,
f Nor o'?r this manfion does the falcon fail ;
' You live imronfcious of the ftorm's alarm,
* The rain impetuous, and the beating hail.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. JQJ
* Nor here, by kind Compafiion unimprefs'd,
' The fchool-boy ever rears his impious hand,
c To fill with agony the feather'd breaft,
' And raze the little dome? that love had plann'd.'
Their harmlefs joys difeafe too foon effac'd :
One fatal morn, her Turturella's mate
She found, with flagging wing fubdu'd, opprefs'd,
And juft, juft finking at the blow of Fate :
While down her cheek Compaffion's mower diftill'd.
She gently rais'd it to her anxious breall ;
But Death's cold blaft life's crimfon current chill'd,
And thus the fair her breathlefs bird addrefs'd :
* Ill-fated turtle, round whofe peaceful bower
' The jocund loves fo lately wont to play ; ;
* How funk, alas ! in youth's exulting hour,
To fell difeafe, to death th' untimely prey !
' How filent is the voice, which, void of art,
' Along the tender day war heard to coo !
How ftill, how frozen is the conftant heart,
' Which to it's dear companion beat fo true !
* That dear companion, that now widow'd dove,
' To fcreen from every harm be mine the care ;
' And while (he mourns her ne'er-reviving love,
* Her grief to me the mourner will endear :
' Like thee, a widow too, condemn 'd to mourn ;
' No more to me does life unfold it's charms !
* Death, death forbids him ever to return !'
She faid and funk into th' attendant's arms.
Her,
2 BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
Her, Avift relapfmg to her former ftate,
With boding fears, approach'd the ferving train :
This fcene's dread period tremblingly they wait,
Nor were their boding fears indulg'd in vain.
Awakening from her trance, around me threw,
Diftrefsful fair, her much diforder'd eyes ;
And wildering faid * Repeat that kind adieu !
* Ah, no ! from love to war, to death he flies.
* Did ye not hear the clafh of hoftile fpears ?
' Ah, mark ye not that breaft-plate ftain'd with gore ?
4 What groan was that which pierc'd thefe fearful ears ?
' He falls, he falls ! my warrior is no more !
' Nor was, O Heaven ! his Amabella near,
' To foothe his pain, and echo figh to figh ;
' Drop on the gaping wound a balmy tear,
' Kifs his cold lip, and clofe his fading eye !'
Of her diftrefs th' alarm'd Harmodius taught,
With trembling fteps approach'd th' unconfcious fair- :
' Give me,' he cry'd, with grief paternal fraught,
' Give me, Q Amabel! to foothe thy care.
' Say, what afHi&ion has thy foul imprefa'd ?
' Reveal what ftorm thy bofom'd calmnefs breaks !
' Reveal and thus relieve this anguifh'd breaft !
The tender father to his daughter fpeaks !'
AMABELLA.
' Ah, what avails the praife the brave obtain !
' Thro' his white bofom rum'd the hoftile fteel ;
* 'Twas his to fwell the number of the (lain,
' And mine Affliction's keeneft point to feel!'
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
HARMODIUS.
* Her roving thought no trace of reafon bears :
' To her rack'd mind, O Heav'n ! thy peace impart !
* A loving parent bathes thy cheek with tears ;
' Harmodius holds thee to his breaking heart !'
AMABELLA.
' To thee, I grateful kneel, O generous feer !
' Who doft, to one unknown, thy care extend !
' Along thy path may Peace her olives rear,
* And Heaven, iu battle, fhield thy dearefl friend !
' For me, who droop beneatli Misfortune's mower,
I had a father now, alas ! a foe
' Thoul't bluih to hear in forrow's darkefl hour,
' He leaves his child abandon'd to her woe !
' But to thy heart, that's fram'd of fofter mould,
' What can to thee a wretch like me endear !
' The fpring, the motive of thy love unfold ;
' Say., fay, for me why flows that friendly tear !
Yet foft awhile methinks that hoary brow,
* That plaintive voice Ah, bear with my diiirefs !
' Or much remembrance is effac'd, or now,
' A tender father's tear-dew'd cheek I prefs !'
HARMODIUS.
* On knees of gratitude I blefs the ikies,
' That Amabella to herfelf reftore !
AMABELLA.
' Ah, wherefore doft thou joy ! thy daughter dies :
Support me to yon couch I can no more
f I feel, I feel the pulfe of life retire !
* Ah, deign to hear thy dying child reveal,
f What, in rebellion to thy juft defire,
Lock'd in her bread, me dar'd fo long conceal !
'Bv
4 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
( By thce unfancHon'd, did I plight my love,
' And, all to thee unknown, a bride became,*
HARMODIUS.
* Harmodius will to both a father prove.'
AMABELLA.
' To him thy pardon thou caiift ne'er proclaim !
' Three fleeting hours had fcarcely call'd me bride,
' When hie was fummon'd to the martial plain ;
' And there forgive thefe tears in beauty's pride,
The much-lamented valiant youth was (lain.
e What tho* unworthy of thy care I prove,
' To thy remembrance let thy child be dear ;
* Thy kind companion let the daughter move,
When this weak frame mall prefs th' untimely bier-
More would fiie fay her voice began to fail,
From her faint eye life's lingering fpark retir'd ;
The ripening cherry on her lip grew pale,
She heav'd a figh and in that figh expir'd.
A BRITISH PHILIPPICK:
OCCASIONED BY THE INSULTS OF THE SPANIARDS, AK
THE PRESENT PREPARATIONS FOR WAR.
BY DR. AKENSIDE.
WHENCE this unwonted tranfport in my breail ?
Why glow my thoughts, and whither would the Mufe
Afpire with rapid wing? Her country's caufe
Demands her efforts ; at that facred call
iihe fummons all her ardour, throws afide
The
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 305
The trembling lyre, and with the warrior's trump
She means to thunder in each Britifh ear ;
And if one fpark of honour or of fame,
Difdain of infult, dread of infamy,
One thought of publick virtue yet furvive,
She means to wake it, rouze the gen'rous flame,
With patriot zeal infpirit ev'ry breaft,
And fire each Britifh heart with Britim wrongs !
Alas, the vain attempt ! what influence now
Can the Mnfe boaft ? or what attention now
Is paid to fame or virtue ? Where is now
The Britim fpirit, generous, warm and brave ;
So frequent wont from tyranny and woe
To free the fuppliant nations ? Where, indeed !
If that protection, once to ftrangers giv'n,
Be now witheld from fons ! Each nobler thought
That warm'd our fires, is loft and buried now
In luxury and av'rice. Baneful vice i
How it unmans a nation ! Yet I'll try,
I'll aim to make this vile degen'rate floth ;
I'll dare to rouze Britannia's dreaming fons
To fame, to virtue, and impart around
A generous feeling of compatriot woes.
Come, then, the various powers of forceful fpeech!
All that can move, awaken, fire, tranfport ;
Come, the bold ardour of the Theban bard i
Th' arouring thunder of the patriot Greek !
The foft perfuafion of the Roman fage !
Come, all ! and raife me to an equal height,
A rapture worthy of my glorious caufe !
Left my beft efforts failing, mould debafe
The facred theme; for with no common wing
The Mufe attempts to foar. Yet, what need thefe ?
My country's fame, my free-born Britifh heart,
Shall be my beft infpirers, raife my flight
High as the Theban's pinion, and with more
Q Than
5 e6 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Than Greek or Roman flame, exalt my foul.
Oh ! could I give the vail ideas birth,
Expreflive of the thoughts that flame within,
No more mould lazy Luxury detain
Our ardent youth ! no more mould Britain's fons
Sit tamely paflive by, and carelefs hear
The prayers, fighs, groans, (immortal infamy !)
Of fellow Britons, with oppreffion funk,
In bitternefs of foul demanding aid,
Calling on Britain, their dear native land,
The land of liberty ; fo greatly fam'd
For juft redrefs; the land fo often dy'd
With her bell blood, for that arouzing caufe,
The freedom of her fons ; thofe fons that now,
Far from the manly bleffings of her fway,
Drag the vile fetters of a Spanifli lord !
And dare they, dare the vanquifh'd fons of Spain
Enflave a Briton ? Have they then forgot,
So foon forgot, the great, th' immortal day,
When refcu'd Sicily with joy beheld
The fwift-wing'd thunder of the Britifh arm
Difperfe their navies ? When their coward bands
Fled, like the raven from the bird of Jove,
From fwift impending vengeance fled in vain :
Are thefe our lords ! And can Britannia fee
Her foes oft vanquim'd, thus defy her pow'r,
Infult her ftandard, and inflave her fons,
And not arife to justice ? Did our fires,
Unaw'd by chains, by exile, or by death,
Preferve inviolate her guardian rights,
To Britons ever facred ! that their fons
Might give them up to Spaniards! Turn your eyes,
Turn ye degen'rate, who with haughty boaft
Call yourfelves Britons, to that difmal gloom,
That dungeon dark and deep, where never thought
Of joy or peace can enter ; fee the gates
Harm-
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 307
Harfh-creaking open ! what an hideous void,
Dark as the yawning grave ! while ftill as death
A frightful filence reigns: there on the ground
Behold your brethren chain'd like hearts of prey ;
There mark your num'rous glories, there behold
The look that fpeaks unutterable woe ;
The mangled limb, the faint, the deathful eye,
With famine funk ; the deep heart-burfting groan
Supprefs'd in filence ; view the loathfome food,
Refus'd by dogs ! and oh, the flinging thought !
View the dark Spaniard glorying in their wrongs ;
The deadly prieft triumphant in their woes,
And thundering worfe damnation on their fouls ;
While that pale form, in all the pangs of death,
Too faint to fpeak, yet eloquent of all,
His native Britifh fpirit yet untam'd,
Raifes his head, and with indignant frowns
Of great defiance, and fuperior fcorn,
Looks up, and dies ! Oh, I am all on fire !
But let me fpare the theme, left future times
Should blufh to hear, that either conquer'd Spain
Durft offer Britain fuch outrageous wrong,
Or Britain tamely bore it !
Defcend, ye guardian heroes of the land !
Scourges of Spain, defcend ! Behold your fons!
See how they run the fame heroick race,
How prompt, how ardent in their country's caufe !
How greatly proud t' afTert their Britifh blood,
And in their deeds refletl their father's fame !
Ah, would to Heaven ! ye did not rather fee,
How dead to virtue in the publick caufe !
How cold, how carelefs, how to glory deaf,
They fhame your laurels, and belye their birth !
Come, yc great fpirits, Cavendifh, Rawleigh, Blake !
And ye 'of later name, your country's pride,
Oh, come ! difperfe thefe lazy fumes of floth,
2 Teack
308 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Teach Britifh hearts with Britifh fires to glow !
In wakening whifpers rouze our ardent youth,
Blazon the triumphs of your better days,
Paint all the glorious fcenes of rightful war,
In all it's fplendours ; to their fwelling fouls
Say how ye bow'd th* infulting Spaniards pride !
Say how ye thunder'd o'er their proftrate heads !
Say how ye broke their lines, and fir'd their ports !
Say how not death, in all it's frightful mapes.
Could damp your fouls, or fhake the great relblve
For Right and Britain ! Then difplay the joys
The patriot's foul exalting, while he views
Tranfported millions hail with loud acclaim
The guardian of their civil, facred rights;
How greatly welcome to the virtuous man
Is death for others good ; the radiant thoughts
That beam celeltial on his palling foul,
Th' unfading crowns awaiting him above,
Th' exalting plaudit of the Great Supreme,
Who in his aftions with complacence views
His own reflected fplendour ! then defcend,
Tho' to a lower > yet a nobler fcene ;
Paint the juft honours to his reliques paid,
Shew grateful millions weeping o'er his grave j
While his fair fame in each progrefiive age
For ever brightens ; and the wife and good
Of every land, in univerfal choir,
With richeft incenfe of undying praife,
His urn encircle ; to the wondering world
His num'rous triumphs blazon ; while with awe,
With filial rev'rence in his fteps they tread,
And copying every virtue,- every fame,
Tranfplant his glories into fecond life,
And, with unfparing hand, make nations blefs'd
By his example ! Vaft, immenfe rewards,
For all the turmoils which the virtuous mind
Encounters
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 309
Encounters here ! Yet, Britons, are ye cold ?
Yet deaf to glory, virtue, and the call
Of your poor injur'd countrymen ? Ah, no !
I fee ye are not ; every bofom glows
With native greatnefs, and in all it's flats
The Britifh fpirit rifes. Glorious change !
Fame, Virtue, Freedom, welcome ! Oh, forgive
The Mufe, that ardent in her facred caufe,
Your glory queition'd J She beholds with joy,
She owns, me triumphs in her wifh'd miftake !
See ! from her fea-beat throne, in awful march
Britannia tow'rs : upon her laurel creft,
The plumes majeftick nod ; behold fhe heaves
Her guardian fhields, and terrible in arms.,
For battle (hakes her adamantine fpear;
Loud at her foot the Britiih lion roars,
Frighting the nations ; haughty Spain full foon
Shall hear and tremble ! Go then, Britons, forth,
Your country's daring champions ! tell your foes.
Tell them in thunders o'er their proftrate land,
You were not born for flaves ! Let all your deeds
Shew that the fons of thofe immortal men,
The ftars of {hming ftory, are not flow
In Virtue's path to emulate their fires,
T' aflert their country's rights, avenge her fons,
And hurl the bolts of juitice on her foes !
TO A LADY,
OH A LANDSCAPE OF HER DRAWING.
BY MR. PARRAT.
BEHOLD the magick of Therefa's hand !
A new creation blooms at her command.
Touch'd into life the vivid colours glow,
Jpatch the warm flrcam, and quicken as they flow.
The
3 io BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
The ravifh'd fight the pleafmg landfcape fills,
Here fink the vallies, and there rife the hills.
Not with more horror nods bleak Calpe's height,
Than here the pi&ur'd rock aflounds the fight.
Not Thames more devious-winding leaves his fource,
Than here the wand'ring rivers fhape their courfe.
Obliquely lab'ring runs the gurgling rill ;
Still murm'ring runs, or feems to murmur flill.
An aged oak, with hoary mofs o'erfpread,
Here lifts aloft it's venerable head ;
There overlhadowing hangs a facred wood,
And nods inverted in the neighb'ring flood.
Each tree as in it's native foreft fhoots,
And blufhing bends with Autumn's golden fruits.
Thy pencil lends the rofe a lovelier hue,
And gives the lily fairer to our view.
Here fruits and flow'rs adorn the varied year,
And paradife with all it's fweets is here.
There Hooping to it's fall a tow'r appears,
With tempefts fliaken, and a weight of years:
The daified meadow, and the woodland green,
In order rife, and fill the various fcene.
Some parts, in light magnificently drefs'd,
Obtrufive enter, and ftand all confefs'd ;
Whilft others, decently in (hades are thrown,
And by concealing, make their beauties known.
Alternate thus, and mutual is their aid,
Their lights owe half their luftre to the {hade.
So the bright fires that light the milky way,
Loft and extinguifh'd in the folar ray ;
In the fun's abfence pour a flood of light,
And borrow all their brightnefs from the night.
To cheat c\ur eyes, how well doft thou contrive !
Each objeft here feems real and alive.
Not more refembling life the figures ftand,
Form'd by Lyfippus, or by Phidias' hand.
Unuumbei
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 311
Unnumber'd beauties in the piece unite,
Rulh on the eye, and croud upon the fight :
At once our wonder and delight you raife ;
We view with pleafure, and with rapture praife.
HYMN TO SOLITUDE.
BY MISS WHATELY.
NO W genial Spring o'er lawn and grove
Extends her vivid power,
Now Phoebus (nines with mildeft beams,
And wakes each fleeping flower.
Soft breezes fan the fmiling mead,
Kind dews refrefh the plain ;
While Beauty, Harmony, and Love,
Renew their chearful reign.
Now far from bufmefs let me fly,
Far from the crouded feat
Of Envy, Pageantry, and Power,
To fome obfcure retreat :
Where Plenty flieds with liberal hand
Her various bleffings round ;
Where laughing Joy delighted roves,
And rofeate Health is found.
Give me to dimb the mountain's brow,
When morn's firft blufhes rife ;
And view the fair extenfive fcene
With Contemplation's eyes.
And
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
And while the raptur'd woodland choir
Pour forth their love-taught lays j
I'll tune the grateful mattin fong
To my Creator's praife.
He bade the folar orb advance
To chear the gloomy fky ;
And at the gentle voice of Spring
Made hoary Winter fly.
He drefs'd the groves in fmiling green,
Unlock'd the ice-bound rill ;
Bade Flora's pride adorn the vale,
And herbage crown the hill.
To that All-gracious Source of Light,
Let early incenfe rife,
While on Devotion's wing th foul
Afcends her native fkies :
And when the rapid car of day
Illumes the fartheft weft,
When Sleep diflblves the captive's chains,
And Anguim finks to reft j
Then let me range the fhadowy lawns,
When Vefper's filver light
Plays on the trembling ftreams, and gilds
The fable veil of night.
When every earthly care's at reft,
And mufing Silence reigns ;
Then aftive Fancy takes her flight
Wide o'er th' ether ial plains ;
Soars
BEAUTIES ofr POETRY. 3 i 3
Soars thro' the tracklcfs realms of fpace,
Sees endlefs fyftems roll ;
Whilft all harmonioufly combine
To form one beauteous whole.
All hail, fweet Solitude ! to thee,
In thy fequefter'd bower,
Let me invoke the Paftoral Mufe>
And every fylvan power.
Dear, penfive nymph, the tender thought
And deep refearch is thine ;
*Tis thine to heal the tortur'd breaft,
And form the great defign.
On thy ftill bofom let me reft,
Far from the clang of war ;
Where ftern Oppreffion's bloody chahls
Precede the vigor's car :
Here fold me in thy facred arms.
Where Albion's happy plains
Exulting tell the nations round
A Britifh Brunfwick reigns.
Here let me hail each rifmg fun,
Here view each day's decline :
Be fame and fway my fovereign's lot
Be peace and freedom mine !
R * CQOPER'
3 i 4 BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
COOPER'S HILL.
BY SIR JOHN DENHAM.
SURE there are poets which did never dream
Upon Parnaflus, nor did tafte the ftream
Of Helicon ; we therefore may fuppofe
Thofe made not poets, but the poets thofe ;
And as courts make not kings, but kings the court,
So where the Mufes and their train refort,
Parnaflus ftands ; if I can be to thee
A poet, thou Parnaflus art tome:
Nor wonder, if (advantag'd in my flight,
By taking wing from thy aufpicious height)
Through untrac'd ways and airy paths I fly,
More boandlefs in my fancy than my eye ;
My eye, which fwift as thought contracts the fpace-
That lies between, and firft falutes the place
Crown'd with that facred pile, fo vaft, fo high,
That whether 'tis a part of earth, or iky,
Uncertain feems, and may be thought a proud
Afpiring mountain, or defcending cloud.
Paul's, the late theme of fuch a Mufe * whofe flight
Has bravely reach'd and foar'd above thy height r
Now fhalt thou ftand, tho' fword, or time, or fire,
Or zeal more fierce than they, thy fall confpire,
Secure, whilft thee the beft of poets fmgs,
Preferv'd from ruin by the beft of kings.
Under his proud furvey the city lies,
And like a mift beneath a hill doth rife;
Whofe ftate and wealth, the bufmefs and the Crowd,
Seems at this diftance but a darker cloud ;
* Mr. Waller.
An<f
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 315
And is to him who rightly things efteems,
No other in effedl than what it feems ;
Where, with like hafte, tho' fev'ral ways, they run,
Some to undo, and fome to be undone :
While luxury and wealth, like war and peace,
Are each the others ruin, and increafe ;
As rivers loft in feas, fome fecret vein
Thence re-conveys, there to be loft again.
Oh, happinefs of fweet retir'd content !
To be at once fecure, and innocent.
Windfor the next (where Mars with Venus dwells,
eauty with ftrength) above the valley fwells
Into my eye, and doth itfelf prefent
With fuch an eafy and unforc'd afcent,
That no ftupendous precipice denies
Accefs, no horror turns away our eyes ;
But fuch a rife, as doth at once invite
A pleafure and a reverence from the fight.
Thy mighty mailer's emblem, in whofe face
Sate meeknefs, heighten'd with majeftick grace ;
Such feems thy gentle height, made only proud
To be the bafis of that pompous load,
Than which, a nobler weight no mountain bears,
But Atlas only which fupports the fpheres.
When Nature's hand this ground did thus advance,
'Twas guided by a wifer pow'r than chance ;
Mark'd out for fuch an ufe, as if ? twere meant
T' invite the builder, and his choice prevent.
Nor can we call it choice, when what we chufe,
Folly or blindnefs only cou'd refufe.
A crown of fuch majeftick tow'rs does grace
The gods great mother, when her heav'nly race
Do homage to her, yet (he cannot boaft
Among that num'rous, and celeftial hoft,
More heroes than can Windibr, nor doth Fame's
Jmmortal book record more noble names.
R r z Not
i6 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Not to look back fo far, to whom this ifle
Owes the firlt glory of fo brave a pile.
Whether to Caefar, Albanad, or Brute,
The Britifh Arthur, or the Dauifh Knute,
(Tho* this of old no lefs conteft did move,
Than when for Homer's birth fev'n cities ftrove ;
Like him in birth, thou ftiould'rt be like in fame,
As thine his fate, if mine had been his flame :)
But whofoe'er it was, Nature defign'd
Firft a brave place, and then as brave a mind.
Not to recount thofe fev'ral kings, to whom
It gs.ve a cradle, or to whom a tomb ;
But thee, great Edward, and thy greater fon *<
(The lilies which his father wore, he won)
And thy Bellona f, who the confort came
Not only to thy bed, but to thy fame,
She to thy triumph led one captive king J,
And brought that fon, which did the fecond bring.
Then didll thou found that order (whether love
Or viclory thy royal thoughts did move)
Each was a nuble caufe, and nothing lefs
Than the defign, has been the great fuccefs;
Which foreign kings, and emperors eftecm
The feconu honour to their diadem.
Had thy great deftiny but giv'n thee {kill
To know, as well as pow'r to adl her will,
That from thofe kings who then thy captives wcre >
In after-t : m?s fhould fpring a royal pair,
Who mould poflefs all that thy mighty pow'f,
Or thy defires more mighty, did devour :
To whom their better fate referves whate'er
The viclor hopes for, or the vanquiih'd feari
* Edward III. and the Black Prince.
}- Queen Phili, j-a.
t The Kin.i:> of France and Scotland.
That
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 317
That blood, which thou and thy great grandfire filed.
And all that fince thefe filler nations bled,
Had been unfpilt, had happy Edward known
That all the blood he fpilt had been his own.
When he that patron chofe in whom are join'd
Soldier and martyr, and his arms confin'd
Within the azure circle, he did feem
But to foretel, and prophefy of him,
Who to his realms that azure round hath join'd,
Which Nature for their bound at firft defign'd.
That bound, which to the world's cxtrcmeft ends,
Endlefs itfelf, it's liquid arms extends.
Nor doth he need thofe emblems which we paint,
But is himfclf the foldier and the faint.
Here mould my wonder dwell, and here my praife,
But my fix'd thoughts my waud'ring eye betrays,
Viewing a neighb'ring hill, whofe top of late
A chapel crown'd, till in the common fate
Th' adjoining abbey fell : (may no fuch florin.
Fall on our times, where ruin mull reform !)
Tell me, my Mufe, what monftrous dire offence,
What crime could any Chriftian king incenfe
To fuch a rage ? Was : t luxury, or lull ?
Was he fo temperate, fo chafte, fo juft?
Were thefe their crimes ? They were his own much more :
But wealth is crime enough to him that's poor ;
Who having fpent the treafures of his crown,
Condemns their luxury to feed his own.
And yet this al, to varnifli o'er the (name
Of facrilege, muft bear devotion's name.
No crime fo bold, but would be underflood
A real, or at leaft a feeming good :
Who fears not to do ill, yet fears- the name,
And free from confcience, is a flave to fame :
Thus he the church at once protects and fpoils ;
But princes fwords are fharper than their uyles.
And
3i3 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
And thus to th' ages pall he makes amends,
Their charity deftroys, their faith defends.
Then did religion, in a lazy cell,
In empty, airy contemplations dwell ;
And like the block, unmoved lay : but ours.
As much too a&ive, like the ftork devours.
Is there no temp'rate region can be known,
Betwixt their frigid, and our torrid zone ?
Cou'd we not wake from that lethargick dream,
But to be refllefs in a worfe extreme ?
And for that lethargy was there no cure,
But to be caft into a calenture ?
Can knowledge have no bound, but muft advance
So far, to make us wiih for ignorance ?
And rather in the dark to grope our way,
Than led by a falfe guide to err by day ?
Who fees thefe difmal heaps, but would demand,
What barbarous invader fack'd the land ?
But when he hears, no Goth, no Turk did bring
This defolation, but a Chriilian king ;
When nothing, but the name of zeal, appears
'Twixt our beft aftions and the worft of theirs,
What does he think our facrilege wou'd fpare,
When fuch th' effects of our devotions are?
Parting from thence, 'twixt anger, fhame, and fear,
Thole for what's paft, and this for what's too near,
My eye, defcending from the hill, furveys
Where Thames among the wanton vallies ftrays.
Thames, the moll lov'd of all the Ocean's fons.
By his old fire, to his embraces runs ;
Hailing to pay his tribute to the fea,
Like mortal life to meet eternity.
Tho' with thofe ftreams he no refemblance hold,
Whofe foam is amber, and their gravel gold ;
His genuine and lefs guilty wealth t* explore,
Search not his bottom, but furvey his fhore ;
O'er
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 31,
O'er which he kindly fpreads his fpacious wing,
And hatches plenty for th' enfuing fpring.
Nor then deftroys it with too fond a ftay,
Like mothers which their infants overlay :
Nor with a fudden and impetuous wave,
Like profufe kings, refumes the wealth he gave.
No unexpected inundations fpoil
The mower's hopes, nor mock the plowman's toil ;
But godlike his unweary'd bounty flows ;
Firft loves to do, then loves the good he does.
Nor are his bleffings to his banks confin'd.
But free, and common, as the (ea or wind ;
When he to boaft, or to difperfe his {lores,
Full of the tributes of his grateful fhores,
Vifits the world, and in his flying tow'rs
Brings home to us, and makes both Indies GUI'S j
Finds wealth where 'tis, beftows it where it wants,
Cities in defarts, woods in cities plants.
So that to us no thing, no place is ftrange,
While his fair bofom is the world's exchange.
O could I flow like thee, and make thy ftream
My great example, as it is my theme !
Tho' deep, yet clear ; tho' gentle, yet not dull ;
Strong without rage, without o'er-flowing full.
Heav'n her Eridanus no more fhall boaft,
Whofe fame in thine, like lefler currents loft ;
Thy nobler ftreams mail vifit Jove's abodes,
To mine among the ftars *, and bathe the gods.
Here Nature, whether more intent to pleafe
Us or herfelf, with ftrange varieties,
(For things of wonder give no lefs delight
To the wife maker's, than beholder's fight:
Tho' thefe delights from fev'ral caufes move j
For fo our children, thus our friends we love)
The Forefl.
Wifely
o BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Wifely (he knew, the harmony of things,
As well as that of founds, from difcord fprings,
Such was the difcord, which did firft difperfe
Form, order, beauty, through the univerfe;
While drynefs, moiiture, coldnefs, heat refifts,
All that we have, and that we are, fubfifts :
While the fteep horri J roughnefs of the wood,
Strives with the gentle calmnefs of the flood;
Such huge extremes when Nature doth unite,
Wonder from thence refults, from thence ddighf.
The ftream is fo tranfparent, pure, and clear,
That had the felf-enamour'd youth * gaz'd here,
So fatally deceiv'd he had nut been,
While he the bottom, not his face had feen.
But his proud head the airy mountain hides
Among the clouds ; his moulders and his fides
A fhady mantle clothes ; his curled brows
Frown on the gentle ftream, which calmly flows j
While winds and ftorms his lofty forehead beat t
The common fate of all that's high of great.
Low at his foot a fpacious plain is plac'd,
Between the mountain and the ftream embrac'd i
Which {hade and (belter from the hill derives,
While the kind river wealth and beauty gives ;
And in the mixture of all thefe, appears
Variety, which all the reft endears.
This fcene had fome bold Greek or Britim bard
Beheld of old, what ftories had we heard
Of fairies, fatyrsj and the nymphs, their dames ;
Their feafts, their revels, and their am'rous flames
'Tis (till the fame, altho' their airy fhape
All but a quick poetick fight efcape.
There Faunus and Sylvanus keep their courts
And thither all th horned hoft reforts
* Narciffun
To
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 321
To graze the ranker mead ; that noble herd,
On whofe fublime and fhady fronts is rear'd
Nature's great mafter-piece ; to fhew how foon
Great things are made, but fooner are undone.
Here have I feen the king, when great affairs
'Gave leave to flacken, and unbend his cares,
Attended to the chace by all the flbw'r
Of youth, whofe hopes a nobler prey devour ;
Pleafure with praife and danger they would buy,
And wifh a foe that would not only fly.
The flag, now confcious of his fatd growth,
At once indulgent to his fear and floth,
To fome dark covert his retreat had made,
Where nor man's eye nor Heaven's fhould invade
His foft repofe ; when th' unexpected found
Of dogs and men his wakeful ear does wound :
Rouz'd with the noife, he fcarce believes his ear,
Willing to think th' illufions of his fear
Had giv'n this falfe alarm; but ftraight his view
Confirms, that more than all he fears is true.
Betray'd in all his ftrengths, the wood befet ;
All inftruments, all arts of ruin met ;
He calls to mind his ftrength, and then his fpeed ;
His winged heels, and then his armed head ;
With thefe t' avoid, with that his fate to meet :
But fear prevails, and bids him truft his feet.
So faft he flies, that his reviewing eye
Has loft the chafers, and his ear the cry ;
Exulting, till he finds their nobler fcnfe
Their difproportion'd fpeed does recompenfe ;
Then curfes his confpiring feet, whofe fcent
Betrays that Safety which their fwiftnefs lent.
Then tries his friends : among the bafer herd,
Where he fo lately was obey'd and fear'd,
His fafety feeks ; the herd, unkindly wife,
Or chafes him from thence, or from him flies.
S f Like
pa BEAUTIES OF POETKV.
Like a declining ftatefman, left forlorn
To his friends pity, and purfuers fcorn;
With fhame remembers, while himfelf was one
Of the fame herd, himfelf the fame had done.
Thence to the coverts, and the confcious groves,
The fccnes of his pail triumphs, and his loves ;
Sadly fun-eying where he rang'd alone
Prince of the foil, and all the herd his own ;
And like a bold knight-errant did proclaim
Combat to afl, and bore away the dame ;
And taught the woods to echo to the ftream
His dreadful challenge, and his claihing beam.
Yet faintly now declines the fatal ftrife;
So much his love was dearer than his life.
Now ev'ry leaf, and ev'ry moving breath,
Prefents a foe, and ev'ry foe a death.
Weary'd, forfaken, and purfu'd, at laft,
All fafety in defpair of fafety plac'd,
Courage he thence refumes, refolv'd to bear
All their affaults, fince 'tis in vain to fear.
And now too late he wiihes, for the fight,
That fcrength he wafted in ignoble flight r
But when he fees the eager chace rene\v'd,
Himfelf by dogs, the dogs by men purfu'd ;
He ftraight revokes his bold refolve, and more
Repents his courage than his fear before ;
Finds that uncertain ways unfafefl are,
And doubt a greater mifchief than defpair.
Then to the ftream, when neither friends, nor force,
Nor fpeed, nor art avail, he mapes his courfe ;
Thinks not their rage fo defperate t' allay
An element mor? mercilefs than they;
But fearlefs they purfne, nor can the flood
Quench their dire third alas ! they thirft for blood.
So, tow'rdi a fliip the oar-finn'd gallies ply,
Which wanting lea to ride, or wind to fly.
Stand*
B'EAUTIES OF POETRY. 323
Stands but to fall reveng'd on thofe that dare
Tempt the laft fury of extreme defpair.
So fares the ftag, among th' enraged hounds,
Repels their force, and wounds returns for \vcunds.
And as a hero, whom his bafer foes
In troops furround, now thefe afiails, now thofe,
Thb' prodigal of life, difdains to die
By common hands ; but if he can defcry
Some nobler foe approach, to him he calls,
And begs his /ate, and then contented falL.
So when the king a mortal fhaft lets fly
From his unerring hand, then glad to die,
i'roud of the wound, to it refigns his blood,
And ftains the chryfta! with a purple flood.
This a more innocent, and happy chace,
Than when of old, but in the felf-fame place,
Fair Liberty purfu'd *, and meant a prey ,
To lawless power, here turn'd, and ftood at bay.
When in that remedy all hope was plac'd
Which was, or mould have been at leaft, the laft.
Here was that charter feal'd f, wherein the crown
All marks of arbitrary pow'r lays down ;
Tyrant and flava, thofe names of hate and fear,
The happier ftyle of king and fubjeft bear :
Happy, when both to the fame centre move,
When kings give liberty, and fubjefts love.
Therefore, not long in force this charter ftood ;
Wanting that feal, it mult be feal'd in blood.
The fubjedls arin'd; the more their princes gave,
Th' advantage only took, the more to crave :
Till kings by giving, give themfelvcs away,
And e'en that pow'r, that mould deny, betray.
Runny-Mead, where that Great Charter xvas fi.ft fealcd.
f Magna Charta.
Sf* * Who
324 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Who gives conftrain'd, but his own fear reviles,
' Not thank'd, but fcorn'd ; nor are they gifts, but
Thus kings, by grafping more than they could hold,
Firft made their fubjefls, by oppreflion, bold ;
And popular fway, by forcing kings to give
More than was fit for fubjefts to receive,
Ran to the fame extremes ; and one exc?fs
Made both, by ftriving to be greater, lefs.
When a calm river 'rais'd with fudden rains,
Or fnows difiblv'd, o'erflows th' adjoining plains,
The hufbandmen, with high-rais'd banks, fecurc
Their greedy hopes, and. this he can endure :
But if with bays and dams they ftrive to force
His channel to a nev or narrow courfe ;
No longer then within his banks he dwells,
Firft tf> a torrent, then a deluge fwells ;
Stronger and fiercer, by reftraint he roars,
And knows no bound, but makes his pow'r his fhores
O L L I O *:
AN ELEG1ACK ODE.
BY MR. MICK LE.
H?JC Jovem fentire, Deofque cunclos.
Spcm bonam certarfique domum reporto. Hon.
A A H E peaceful evening breathes her balmy ftore,
JL The playful fchool-boys wanton o'er the green :
Where fpreading poplars (hade the cottage-door,
The villagers in ruftick joy convene,
* It has been often faid, that Fidlion is the mod proper field for poetry. If it
is always fo, the writer of this little piece acknowledges it is a circumftanee againft
him. The following Ode was firft luggefted, and the ideas contained in it raifed,
on revifuing the ruins and woods that had been the fcene of his eaily amufements,
wiih a dcfcrvin brother who died in his twcnty-fint year.
Amid
. BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Amid the fecret windings of the wood,
With folemn Meditation let me ftray ;
This is the hour when, to the wife and good,
The heavenly maid repays the toils of day.
The river murmurs, and the breathing gale
Whifpers the gently- waving boughs among;
The (tar of evening glimmers o'er the dale,
And leads the filent hoft of heaven along.
HOW bright, emerging o'er yon broom-clad heigkt^
The /ilver emprefs of the night appears !
Yon limpid potol reflects a ftream of light,
And faintly in it's breaft the woodland bears.
The waters tumbling o'er their rocky bed,
Solemn and conftant, from yon dell refound ;
The lonely hearths blaze o'er the diftant glade;
The bat, low-wheeling, Ccims the duflty ground.
Auguft and hoary, o'er the doping dale,
The Gothick abbey rears it's fculptur'd towers ;
Dull through the roofs refounds the whittling gale,
Dark Solitude among the pillars lours.
Where yon old trees bend o'er a place of graves,
And folemn made a chapel's fad remains,
Where yon fcath'd poplar through the window waves,
And, twining round, the hoary arch fuftains;
There oft, at dawn, as one forgot behind,
Who longs to follow, yet unknowing where,
Some hoary fhepherd, o'er his fiaff reclin'd,
Pores on the graves, and fighs a broken prayer.
High
3?6 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
High o'er the pines, that with their darkening fhade
Surround yon craggy bank, the caftle rears
It's crumbling turrets : ftill it's towery head
A warlike mieji, a fullen grandeur wears.
So, midfl the fnow of age, a boaftful air
Still on the war-worn veteran's brow attends ;
Still his big bones his youthful prime declare,
Tho' trembling o'er the feeble crutch he bends.
Wild round the gates the dulky wall-flowers creep,
Where oft the knights the beauteous dames have led ;
Gone is the bower, the grot a ruin'd heap,
Where bays and ivy o'er the fragments fpread.
Twas here our fires, exulting from the fight,
Great in their bloody arms, march'd o'er the lea,
Eying their refcu'd fields with proud delight !
Now loft to them ! and, ah ! how chang'd to me !
This bank, the river, and the fanning breeze,
The dear idea of my Pollio bring ;
So mone the moon through thefe foft nodding trees,
When here we wander 'd in the eves of fpring.
When April's fmiles the flowery lawn adorn,
And modeft cowflips deck the ftreamlet's fide ;
When fragrant orchards to the rofeate morn
Unfold their bloom, in heaven's ewn colours dy'd :
So fair a bloflbm gentle Pollio wore,
Thefe were the emblems of his healthful mind ;
To him the letter'd page difplay'd it's lore,
To him bright Fancy al} her wealth refign'd ;
Him,
.BEAUTIES OF POETR?. 337
Him, with her pureft flames the Mufe cndow'd,
Flames never to th' illiberal thought ally'd ;
The facred filters led where Virtue glow'd
In all her charms ; he faw, he felt, and dy'd.
Oh, partner of my infant griefs and joys !
Big with the fcenes now paft, my heart o'erflows 3
Bids each endearment, fair as once to rife,
And dwells luxurious on her melting woes :
Oft with the rifing fun, when life was new,
Along the woodland have I roam'd with thee ;
Oft by the moon have brufh'd the evening dew>
When all was fearlefs innocence and glee.
The feinted well, where yon bleak hill declines,
Has oft been confcious of thofe happy hours j
But now the hill, the river crown'd with pines.
And fainted well, have loft their chearing powers:
For thou art gone. My guide, my friend! oh, where,
Where haft thou fled, and left me here behind !
My tendereft wifli, my heart to thee was bare,
Oh, now cut off each pafTage to thy mind !
How dreary is the gulph ! how dark, how void,
The tracklefs mores that never were repafs'd!
Dread feparation ! on the depth untry'd,
Hope faulters, and the foul recoils aghaft !
Wide round the fpacious heavens I caft my eyes :
And mall thefe ftars glow with immortal fire!
Still mine the lifelefs glories of the fldes !
And could thy bright, thy living foul expire !
Far
& BEAUTIES -OF i*Ofi k;
Far be the thought ! The pleafures mofl fublime;
The glow of frieridihip, and the virtuous tear,
The towering wifh that fcorns the bounds of time^
Chill'd in. this vale of death, but languifh here.
So plant the vine on Norway's wint'ry hind,
The languid ftrangcr feebly buds, and dir :
Yet there's a clime where Virtue mall expand
With godlike ftrer.gth beneath her native fkies!
The lonely fliepherd on the mountain's fide,
With patience waits the rofy opening day;
The mariner at midnight's darkfome tide,
With chearful hope expeds the morning rays
Thus I, on life's ftorm-beaten ocean tofs'd,
In mental viiion view the happy fhore,
Where Pollio beckons to the peaceful coaft,
Where fate and death divide the friends no more *
Oh, that fome kind* fome pitying kindred fhadej
Who now, perhaps, frequents this folemn grove^
Would tell the awful fecrets of the dead,
And from my eyes the mortal film remove !
Vain is the wifh yet furely not in vain
Man's bofom glows with that celeftial fire,
Which fcorns earth's luxuries, which fmiles at
And wings his fpirit with fttblime dcfire !
To fan this fpark of Heaven, this ray divine,
Still, O my foul ! ftill be thy dear employ ;
Still thus to wander thro' the fhades be thine,
And fwell thy breaft with vifionary joy !
BEAUTIES OF POETRY 329
So to the dark-brow'd wood, or facred mount,
In ancient days, the holy feers retir'd ;
And, led in vifion, drank at Siloe's fount.
While rifing extafies their bofoms hVd :
Reftor'd creation bright before them rofe,
The burning defarts fmil'd as Eden's plains,
One friendly fhade the wolf and lambkin chofe,
The flowery mountain fung, ' Meffiah reigns !'
Tho* fainter raptures my cold breaft infpire,
Yet let me oft frequent this folemn fcene ;
Oft to the abbey's fhatter'd walls retire,
What time the moonfhine dimly gleams between ;
There, where the crofs in hoary ruin nods,
And weeping yew's o'erfhade the letter'd Hones,
While midnight filence wraps thefe drear abodes,
And foothes me wandering o'er my kindred bones j
Let kindled Fancy view the glorious morn,
When from the burfting graves the juft (hall rife,
All Nature fmiling, and by angels borne,
Meffiah's crofs far blazing o'er the fkies !
ODE TO INDEPENDENCE.
BY DR. SMOLLETT.
STROPHE.
TH Y fpirit, Independence, let me /hare !
Lord of the lion-heart and eagle-eye,
Thy fteps I follow with my bofom bare,
Nor heed the ftorm that howls along the flcy.
Deep in the frozen regions of the north,
A goddefs violated brought thee forth,
Immortal
333 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Immortal Liberty, whofe look fublime
Hath bleach'd the tyrant's cheek in ev'ry varying clime j
What time the iron-hearted Gaul
With frantick Super ftition for his guide,
Arm'd with the dagger and the pall,
The fans of Woden to the field defy'd ;
-The ruthlefs hag, by Wefer's flood,
In Heaven's name urg'd lh' infernal blow,
And red the ftream begun to flow :
The vanquifh'd were baptiz'd with blood *.
ANTISTROPHE.
The Saxon prince in horror fled
From altars ftain'd with human gore ;
And Liberty his routed legions led
In fafety to the bleak Norwegian fliore :
There in a cave afleep flie lay,
Lull'd by the hoarfe refounding main ;
When a bold favage pafs'd that way,
Impell'd by deftiny, his name Difdain.
Of ample front the portly chief appear'd ;
The hunted bear fupply'd a fhaggy veft,
The drifted fnow hung on his yellow beard,
And his broad flioulders brav'd the furious blafh
He ftopp'd ; he gaz'd ; his bofom glow'd,
And deeply felt th' impreffion of her charms :
He feiz'd th' advantage Fate allow'd,
And ftraight comprefs'd her in his vigorous anns.
STROPHE.
The curlieu fcream'd ; the tritons blew
Their fliells to celebrate the ravifh'd rite 5
Old Time exulted as he flew ;
And Independence faw the light.
* Baftlx'd with llozd, &c.] Charlemaigne obliged four thoufand Saxon
prifoners to embrace the Chriftian religion, and immediately after they were
baptized, ordered their throats to be cut. Their Prince Vi tiki ad fied for fhel-
ter to Gotiick King of Denmark'
Th<
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 33l
The light he faw in Albion's happy plains ;
Where, under cover of a flowering thorn,
While Philomel renew'd her warbled ftrains,
Th' aufpicious fruit of ftol'n embrace was born.
The mountain dryads feiz'd with joy
The fmiling infant to their charge confign'd;
The Dorick Mufe carefs'd the fav'rite boy ;
The hermit, Wifdom, ftor'd his op'ning mind.
As rolling years matur'd his age,
He flourifiVd bold and fmewy as his fire ;
While the mild pafilons in his breaft afluage
The fiercer flames of his maternal firei.
ANTISTROPHE.
Accomplim'd thus, he wing'd his way,
And zealous rouz'd from pole to pole,
The rolls of right eternal to difplay,
And warm with patriot thoughts th' afpirirtg foul.
On defart ifles * 'twas he that rais'd
Thofe fpires that gild th' Adriatick wave,
Where tyranny beheld amaz'd
Fair Freedom's temple, where he mark'd her grave.
He iteel'd the blunt Bardavian's arms
To burft th' Iberian's double chain f ;
And cities rear'd, and planted farms,
Won from the fkirts of Neptune's wide domain.
He, with the generous rufticks, fate
On Uris' rocks in clofe divan f ,
And wing'd that arrow fure as fate
Which afcertain'd the facred rights of man.
. * On defart ijlcs, Sec.] Although Venice was built a confidcrable time before
the sera here afiigned for the birth of Independence, the Republitk had not
yet attained to any great degree of power and fple.ndour.
f To burjl tb' Iber:an'i double chain, &c.] Th; Low Countries were not
only opprefl'ed by grievous taxations, but likcwifc threatened with the cftablifh-
ment of the inquifition, when the Seven Provinces revolted, and (hook off the
yoke of Spain.
J On Urit' rocks, &c.] Alluding to the known ftory of William Tell and his
affociates, the fathers and founders of the Confederacy of the Swifs Cantons.
T t 2 STROTHE.
532 SEAUTIES OF P,OETRY.
STROPHE.
Arabia's fcorching fands he crofs'd *,
Where blafted Nature pants fupine,
Conductor of her tribes aduft,
To Freedom's adamantine fhrine ;
And many a Tartar hord forlorn, aghaf! f ;
He fnatch'd from under fell Oppreflion's wing ;
And taught, amidft the dreary wafte,
Th' all-chearing hymns of Liberty to fing.
He virtue finds, like precious ore,
DirTus'd thro' ev'ry bafer mould ;
E'en now he Hands on Calvis' rocky fhore,
And turns the drofs of Corfica to gold f.
He, guardian genius, taught my youth
Pomp's tinfel'd liv'ry to defpife :
My lips by him chaftis'd to truth
Ne'er paid that homage which the heart denies.
ANTISTROPHE.
Thofe fculptur'd halls my feet mail never tread
Where varnifli'd vice and vanity combin'd,
To dazzle and feduce their banners fpread,
And forge vile fhackles for the free-born mind :
Where Infolence his wrinkled front, uprears,
And all the flowers of fpurious fancy blow,
And Title his ill-woven chaplet wears,
Full often wreath'd around the mifcreant's brow :
* Arabia's f:arcb:ng funds, &c.] The Arabs, rather than refign their inde-
pendency, have often abandoned their habitations, and encountered all the
horrors of the defart.
f And nary a Tartar bard, &C.J From the tyranny of Jenghis-Kha,
Timur-Bec, and other eaftern conquerors, whole tribes of Tartars were ufed w
fly into the remoteft waftes of Cathay, where no army would follow them.
I And turns the drc,fi of Ccrjica, &c.J The nobli ftand made by PafchaJ
Paoli and his aflbciates againft the ufurj>ation of the French king, muft endear
them to all the foas of liberty and independence.
Wherever
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 333
Wherever dimpling Falfliood, pert and vain,
Prefents her cup of ftate profeffion's froth,
And pale Difeafe, with all his blalted train,
Torments the fons of Gluttony and Sloth.
STROPHE.
In Fortune's car behold that minion ride,
With either India's glittering fpoils opprefs'd :
So moves the fumpter-mule, in harnefs'd pride,
That bears the treafure which he cannot tafte.
For him let venal bards difgrace the bay,
And hireling minftrels wake the tinkling ftring ;
Her fenfual fnares let faithlefs Pleafure lay,
And all her gingling bells fantaftick Folly ring :
Difquiet, doubt, and dread fhall intervene ;
And Nature, ftill to all her feelings juft,
In vengeance hang a damp on every fcene,
Shook from the baleful pinions of Difguft.
ANTISTROPHE.
Nature I'll court in her fequefter'd haunts,
By mountain, meadow, ftreamlet, grove, or cell,
Where the pois'd lark his evening ditty chaunts,
And Health and Peace, and Contemplation, dwell.
There Study (hall with Solitude recline,
And Friendfhip pledge me to his fellow-fwains ;
And Toil and Temperance fedately twine
The (lender chord that fluttering life fuftains ;
And fearlefs Poverty mall guard the door,
And Tafte unfpoiPd the frugal table fpread ;
And Induftry fupply the humble ftore,
And Sleep unbrib'd his dews refreflung fhed :
White-mantled Innocence, etherial fprite,
Shall chafe far off the goblins of the night,
And Independence o'er the day prefide,
Propitious power ! my patron and my pride !
ODE
334 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
ODE TO A SINGING BIRD.
BY MR. RICHARDSON.
o
Thou that glad'ft my lonefome hours
With many a wildly warbled fong,
When Melancholy round me lours,
And drives her fullen ftorms along;
When fell Adverfity prepares
To lead her delegated train,
Pale Sicknefs, Want, Remorfe, and Pain,
With all her hoft of carking cares ;
The fiends ordain'd to tame the human foul,
And give the humbled heart to Sympathy's controul !
Sweet foother of my mifery, fay,
Why dolt thou clap thy joyous wing ?
Why doft thou pour that artlefs lay ?
How canft thou, little prifoner, fing?
Haft thou not caufe to grieve
That man, unpitying man ! has rent
From thee the boon which Nature meant
Thou fhould'ft, as well as he, receive ?
The power to woo thy partner in the grove ;
To build where inftinft points ; where chance directs, to rove.
Perchance, unconfcious of thy fate,
And to the woes of bondage blind,
Thou never long'ft to join thy mate,
Nor wiflieft to be unconfm'd ;
Then how relentlefs he,
And fit for every foul offence,
Who could bereave fuch innocence
Of life's belt bleffing, Liberty !
Who lur'd thee, guileful, to his treacherous fnare,
To live a tuneful fiave, and diflipate his care !
But
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 335
But why for thee this fond complaint?
Above thy matter thou art blefs'd !
Art thou not free ? Yes ; calm Content,
With olive fceptre, fways thy breaft :
Then deign with me to live ;
The falcon with infatiate maw,
With hooked bill and griping claw,
Shall ne'er thy deftiny contrive;
And every tabby foe mail mew in vain,
While penlively demure me hears thy melting {train.
Nor mall the fiend, fell Famine, dare
Thy wiry tenement aflail ;
Thefe, thefe mail be my conftant care,
The limpid fount, and temp'rate meal :
And when the blooming fpring
In chequer'd liv'ry robes the fields,
The faireft flow'rets Nature yields
To thee officious will I bring ;
A garland rich thy dwelling mail entwine,
And Flora's frefheft gifts, thrice happy bird ! be thine.
From drear Oblivion's gloomy cave
The powerful Mufe mall wreft thy name,
And bid thee live beyond the grave ;
This meed me knows thy merits claim ;
She knows thy liberal heart
Is ever ready to difpenfe
The tide of bland Benevolence,
And Melody's foft aid impart ;
Is ready flill to prompt the magick lay,
Which huihes all pur griefs, and charms our pains away.
Erewhile.
33 6 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Erewhile, when brooding o'er my foul
Frown'd the black demons of Defpair,
Did not thy voice that power controul,
And oft fupprefs the rifing tear ?
If Fortune mould be kind,
If e'er with affluence I'm blefs'd,
I'll often feek fome friend diftrefs'd ;
And when the weeping wretch I find,
Then, tuneful moralift, I'll copy thee,
And folace all his woes with focial fympathy ! *
ELEGIES.
BY DR. DELAP.
ELEGY I.
AH, flay ! Thy wand oblivious o'er my eyes
Yet wave, mild power of fleep ! My prayer is vain J
She flies ; the partial nurfe of Nature flies,
With all her foothing, vifionary train !
Then let me forth, and near yon flowering thorn
Tafte heaven's pure breath ; while, rob'd in amber veft,
Frefli from her, watery couch, the youthful morn
Steals on the {lumbers of the drowzy eaft.
Lo ! at her prefence, the ftrong arm of toil,
With glittering fickle mows the prime of May ;
While yon poor hirelings, for the mine's rude foil,
Leave to their fleepiug babes their cots of clay.
With fturdy flep, they chearly whittle o'er
The path that flings acrofs the reedy plain,
To the deep caverns of that yawning moor,
Whofe fhaggy breaft abhors the golden grain.
There,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 337
There, in her green drefs, Nature never roves,
Spreads the gay lawn, nor lifts the lordly pine ;
They fee no mslting clouds refrefh the groves,
No living landfcape drawn by Hands Divine :
But many a fathom from the funny breeze,
Their painful way in central night they wear ;
Heave the pilc'd axes on their bended knees,
Or, fide-long, the rough quarry flowly tear.
Yet while damp vapours chill each reeking brow,
How loudly laughs the jovial voice of mirth ;
Pleas'd that the wages of the day allow
A focial blaze to chear their evening hearth !
There the chafte houfewife, with maternal care.
Her thrifty diftaff plies, in grave attire ;
Blefs'd to behold her ruddy offspring wear
The full refemblance of their fturdy fire.
To fpread with fuch coarfe fare their homely board ;
As fits the genius of their little fate,
Free from .thofe ills that haunt their pamper'd lord :
To be unhappy, we muft firfl be great.
In thefe dark caves, where Heav'n's paternal hand,
Far from the world their private cradle laid,
They toil fecure ; the florins that ilrike the land
With wild difmay, roll harmlefs o'er their head.
For who, the load of weary life to bear,
Woti'd from thcfe murky manfions chafe the flave ?
Who ceafe to breathe Heav'n's pure and chcarful air,
To be but living tenants of the grave ?
U u Yet
338 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Yet harafs'd as they are, their face ftill wears
The reverend comelinefs of green old age ;
No ftains their mind from worldly fcience bears :
Their ray of knowledge gleams from Nature's page.
The few plain rules her fimple leflbns give,
They ftill thro' life with pleas'd attention ply ;
Their helplefs offspring bid them wifti to live,
Their breathlefs parents bid them learn to die.
And furely Heaven, whofe penetrating fight
Pierces the foul, and reads it's inmoft groan,
Muft fee Content, with more fincere delight,
Toil in the mine, than triumph on the throne.
See Charles *, more pleas'd, within the convent's gloom,
Seeking the flaves calm nights, their temp'rate days,
And peaceful paflage to the private tomb,
Than diadem'd with glory's crimfon rays.
E'en the proud fage, whofe deep myflerious brain
Has reafon'd all the balm of hope away ;
Convinc'd that learning's but ingenious pain,
Might hail their happier lot, and fighing fay
f O had I thus, within the dark profound,
' By daily labour earn'd my daily food ;
' Or with yon feedman fow'd the quick'ning ground,
' Or cleav'd with ponderous axe the groaning wood i
' Full many an hour, that now, tho' fped with art,
' On flow and dufky pinions fullen flies ;
* Full many an anxious wifh, or pang of heart,
' That Reafon's boafted anodyne defies,
* Charles V. of Spain, who in the full blaze of his glory refgned the throne
t& his fon Philip, and retir'd to a coiivent in Eftremadura.
Had
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Had ne'er been born. Nor had th' uneafy mind,
' Pent in the prifon of" this mortal mould,
c Felt it's etherial energy confin'd,
' It's brighteft funfhine in dark clouds enroll'd.
* But native fenfe her modeft courfe had run ;
' Her faintly luftre untaught virtue fpread ;
' Health crown'd my toils ; and, ere the day was done,
' Sound fleep beneath fome alder's ruftling made.
Then, as I ftole down life's declining hill,
' Here nature's gifts had furnifh'd nature's needs ;
' The brook's cold beverage every latent ill
' Had ftarv'd, that cloyfter'd Contemplation feeds.
' Till in the peaceful made of this lone bower,
' Or near yon Ihatter'd tower, in filence laid,
* The orient orb, that watch'd my natal hour,
' Had brightly glitter'd o'er my mouldering head.'
ELEGY II.
TO SICKNESS.
TT O W blythe the flowery graces of the fpring
* From Nature's wardrobe come : and hark how gay
Each glittering infeft, hovering on the wing,
Sings it's glad welcome to the fields of May !
They gaze with greedy eye each beauty o'er ;
They fuck the fweet breath of the bluming rofe ;
Sport in the gale, or fip the rainbow mower :
Their life's mort day no paufe of pleafure knows.
U u 2 L5kf
340 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Like their's, dread Power, my chearful morn difplay'd
The flattering promife of a golden noon ;
Till each gay cloud, that fportive Nature fpread,
Died in the gloom of thy diftemper'd frown.
Yes; ere I told my two and twentieth year,
Swift from thy quiver flew the deadly dart ;
Harmlefs it pafs'd 'mid many a blythe compeer,
And found it's fated entrance near my heart.
Pale as I lay beneath thy ebon wand,
I faw them rove thro' Pleafure's flow'ry field :
J faw Health paint them with her rofy hand,
Eager to burfl my bonds, but forc'd to yield.
Yet while this mortal cot of mouldering clay
Shakes at the ftroke of thy tremendous power,
Ah, muft the tranfient tenant of a day
Bear the rough blaft of each tempeftuous hour !
Say, ftiall the terrors thy pale flag unfolds,
Too rigid queen ! unnerve the foul's bright powers j
Till with a joylefs fmile the eye beholds
Art's magick charms, and Nature's fairy bowers t
No ; let me follow dill, thofe bowers among,
Her flowery footfteps, as the goddefs goes ;
Let me, juft lifted 'bove th' unletter'd throng,
llead the few books the learned few compofe :
And fuffer, when thy awful pleafure calls
The foul to lhare her frail companion's fmart ;
Yet fuffer me to tafte the balm that falls
From Friendfhip's tongue, fo fweet upon the heart.
Then,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 34,
Then, tho' each trembling nerve confefs thy frown,
E'en till this anxious being fhall become
But a brief name upon a little ftone,
Without one murmur I embrace my doom.
For many a virtue, fhelter'd from mankind,
Lives calm with thee, and lord o'er each defire ;
And many a feeble frame, whofe mighty mind
Each mufe has touch'd with her immortal iire.
E'en he *, fole terror of a venal age,
The tuneful bard, whofe philofophick foul,
With fuch bright radiance glow'd on Virtue's page,
Learn'd many a leflbn from thy moral fchool.
He too f, who ' mounts, and keeps his diftant way,'
His daring mind thy humanizing glooms
Have temper'd with a melancholy ray,
And taught to warble Vild the village tombs.
Yes, goddefs ; to thy temple's deep recefs
I come ; and lay for ever at it's door
The fyren throng of Follies numberlefs,
JJor wifh their flattering fongs mould foothe me more.
Thy decent garb mail o'er my limbs be fpread,
Thy hand mall lead me to thy fober train,
Who here retir'd, with penfive Pleafure tread.
The filent windings of thy dark domain,
Hither the cherub Charity mail fly
From her bright orb, and brooding o'er my mind,
For mifery raife a fympathizing figh,
Pardon for foes, and love for human kind ;
* Mr. Pope. f Mr. Cr.iy,
Then,
34 2 BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
Then, while Ambition's trump, from age to age,
It's flaughter'd millions boafts ; while Fame mall rear
Her deathlefs trophies o'er the bard and fage,
Be mine the widow's figh, the orphan's prayer!
DEATH.
T
BY CHARLES EMILY, ESQ..
I.
H E feflive roar of laughter, the warm glow
Of brifk-ey'd joy, and friendfhip's genial bowl,
Wit's ,'^u.fon'd converfe, and the liberal flow
Of unfufpicious youth, profufe of foul,
Delight not ever ; from the boifterous fcene
Of riot far, and Comus' wild uproar,
From Folly's crowd, whofe vacant brow ferene
Was never knit to Wifdom's frowning lore,
Permit me, ye time-hallow'd domes, ye piles
Of rude magnificence, your folemn reft,
Amid your fretted vaults and length 'ning ides,
Lonely to wander ; no unholy gueft,
That means to break, with facrilegious tread,
The marble flumbers of your monumented dead.
II.
Permit me with fad mufings, that infpire
Unlabour'd numbers apt, your filence drear
Blamelefs to wake, and with th' Orphean lyre
Fitly attemper'd, foothe the mercilefs ear
Of Hades, and ftern Death, whofe iron fway
Great Nature owns thro' all her wide domain ;
All that with oary fin cleave their fmooth way
Thro' the green bofom of the fpawny main,
And
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 343
And thofe that to the {beaming ether fpread,
In many a wheeling glide, their feathery fail ;
And thofe that creep; and thofe that ftatelier tread,
That roam o'er foreft, hill, or browzed dale ;
The viftims each of ruthlefs fate muft fall ;
E'en God's own image, Man, high paramount of all.
III.
And ye, the young, the giddy, and the gay,
That ftartle from the fleepful lid of light
The curtain'd reft, and with the diflbnant bray
Of Bacchus, and loud jollity, affright
Yon radiant goddefs, that now fhoots among
Thefe many-window'd ifles her glimmering beam ;|
Know, that or ere it's ftarr'd career along
Thrice mail have roll'd her filvery-wheeled team,
Some parent bread may heave the anfwering figh,
To the flow paufes of the funeral knoll ;
E'en now black Atrppos, with fcowling eye,
Roars in the laugh, and revels o'er the bowl,
E'en now in rofy-crowned Pleafure's wreath
Entwines in adder folds all unfufpefled Death.
IV.
Know, on the ftealing wing of time mall flee
Some few, fome Ihort-liv'd years and all is paft ;
A future bard thefe awful domes may fee,
Mufe o'er the prefent age as I the lait ;
Who mouldering in the grave, yet once like you
The various maze of life were feen to tread,
Each bent their own peculiar to purfue,
As cuftom urg'd, or wilful nature led ;
Mix'd with the various crowd's inglorious clay,
The nobler virtues undiftinguifli'd lie ;
No more to melt with Beauty's heav'n-born ray,
No more to wet Companion's tearful eye,
Catch from the poet raptures not their own,
And feel the thrilling melody of fweet renown.
V. Where
344 BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
V.
Where is the mafter-hand, whofe femblant art
ChifTel'd the marble into life, or taught
From the well-pencil'd portraiture to ftart
The nerve that beat with foul, the brow that thought !
Cold are the iingers-that in ftone-fix'd trance
The mute-attention rivetting, to the lyre
Struck language : dimm'd the poet's quick-ey'd glance,
All in wild raptures flashing heaven's own fire.
Shrunk is the- fmew'd energy, that ftrung
The warrior arm ! Where fleeps the patriot breaft
Whilome that heav'd impaflion'd ! where the tongue
That lanc'd it's lightning on the towering creft
Of fcepter'd infolence, and overthrew
Giant Oppreffion, leagu'd with all her earth-born crew !
VI.
Thefe now are paft : long, long, ye fleeting years,
Purfue, with glory wing'd, your fated way,
Ere from the womb of time unwelcome peers
The dawn of that inevitable day,
When wrapt in fhrouded clay their warmeft friend
The widow'd virtues mail again deplore,
When o'er his urn in pious grief mall bend
His Britain, and bewail one patriot more ;
For foon muft thou, too foon! who fpread'ft abroad
Thy beaming emanations unconfin'd,
Doom'd, like fome better angel fent of God
' To fcatter bleffings over humankind,
Thou too muft fall, O Pitt ! to fiiine no more,
And tread thofe dreadful paths a Faulkland trod before !
VII.
Faft to the driving winds the marmall'd clouds
Sweep difcontinuous o'er th' etherial plain ;
Another ftill upon another crouds,
All haftening downward to their native main.
Thu
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 345
1 hus pafies o'er, thro' varied life's career,
Man's fleeting age ; the feafons, as they fly,
Snatch from us in their courfe, year after year.
Some fweet conne&ion, fome endearing tie.
The parent, ever-honour'd, ever dear,
Claims from the filial brcafl the pious figh ;
A brother's urn demands the kiridred tear,
And gentle forrows gufli from Friendmip's eye;
To-day we frolick in the rofy bloom
Of jocund youth- 'the morrow knells us to the tomb,
VIII.
Who knows how foon, in this fepulchral fpot.
Shall Heaven to me the drear abode affign !
How foon the paft irrevocable lot
Of thefe that reft beneath me, mall be mine ?
Haply, when Zephyr to thy native bourn
Shall waft thee o'er the ftorm'd Hibernian wave,
Thy gentle breaft, my Taviftock *, mall mourn
To find me fleeping in the fenfelcfs grave.-
No more the focial leifure to divide,
In the fweet intercourfe of foul and foul,
Blythe, or of graver brow ; no more to chide
The ling'ring years impatient as they roll,
Till all thy cultuf'd virtue's fliall difplay,
Full bloflbm'd, their bright honours to the gazing da/.
IX.
Ah, deareft youth! thefe vows, perhaps unheard,
The rude wind fcatters o'er the billowy main ;
Thefe prayers, at Friendmip'o holy mrine preferr'd,
May rife to grafp their father's knees in vain.
* Francis, Marquis of Taviftock, only fon to the Duke of Bedford ; whofe
death, which happened on the aad of March 1767, was occaliofied by a fall
from his horfe, which he received while hunting a few days before. Mr.
Emily was Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, and had been tutor to
the Marquis : he died in the year 1762, being (fen M.ijor of the Surry militia }
five years before the melancholy accident which deprived the world of his
Oeblc and univerfally lamented pupil.
X X Soon,
S4 6 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Soon, foon may nod the fad funereal plume
With folemn horror o'er thy timelefs hearfe,
And I furvive to grave upon thy tomb
The mournful tribute of memorial verfe !
That leave to Heaven's decifion : be it thine,
Higher than yet a parent's wiih.es flew,
To foar in bright pre-eminence, and mine
With felf-earn'd honours, eager to purfue,
Where glory, with her clear unfully'd rays,
The well-born fpirit lights to deeds of mightiefl praife.
X.
'Twas me thy god-like Ruffel's bofom fteel'd
With confidence untam'd, in his laft breath
Stern-fmiling. She, with calm compofure, held
The patriot axe of Sidney, edg'd with death.
Smit with the warmth of her impulfive flame,
Wolfe's gallant virtue flies to worlds afar,
Emulous to pluck frelh wreaths of well-earn'd fame
From the grim frowning brow of laurel'd war.
'Twas fhe, that on the morn of direful birth,
Bare'd thy young bofom to the fatal blow,
Lamented Armytage * ! the bleeding youth !
O bathe him in the pearly caves bclo\v,
Ye Nereids and ye Nymphs of Camus hoar,
Weep for ye oft have feen him on your haunted more.
XI.
Better to die with glory than recline
On the foft lap of ignominious peace,
Than yawn out the dull droning life fupine
In monkim apathy and gowned eafe.
Better employ'd, in honour's bright career,
The leaft divifion on the dial's round,
Than thrice to compafs Saturn's live-long year,
Grown old in floth, the burden of the ground ;
* Sir T?hn Armytage, member of parliament for the city of York, who
was'klllcd at St. CAS, in the year 1758.
Than
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 347
Than tug with fweating toil the flavifh oar
Of unredeem'd affliction, and fuftain
The fev'rous rage of fierce difeafes fore
Unnumber'd, that in fympathetick chain
Hang ever thro' the thick circumfluous air,
All from the drizzly verge of yonder ftar-girt fphere,
XII.
Thick in the many-beaten road of life,
A thoufand maladies are pofted round,
With wretched man to wage eternal ftrife
Unfeen, like ambufh'd Indians, till they wound.
There the fwoln Hydrop ftands, the wat'ry Rheum,
The Northern Scurvy, Blotch with lep'rous fcale ;
And moping ever in the cloifter'd gloom
Of learned Sloth, the bookifti Afthma pale :
And the fhunn'd Hag unfightly, that ordain'd
On Europe's fons to wreak the faithlefs fword
Of Cortez, with the blood of millions ftain'd,
O'er dog-ey'd luft the tort'ring fcourge abhor'd
Shakes threat'ning ; fmce the while fhe wing'd her flight
From Amazon's broad wave, and Andes' fnow-clad height.
XIII.
Where the wan daughter of the yellow year,
The chatt'ring Ague chill, the writhing Stone,
And he of ghaftly feature, on whofe ear
Unheeded croaks the death-bird's warning moan,
Marafmus ; knotty Gout ; and the dead life
Of nervelefs Palfy ; there, on purpofe fell
Dark brooding, whets his interdicted knife,
Grim Suicide, the damned fiend of hell.
There, too, is the ftunn'd Apoplexy pight *,
The bloated child of gorg'd Intemperance foul ;
Self-wafting Melancholy, black as night
pouring, and foaming fierce with hideous howl
* Placed.
X 2 The
34 8 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
The dog Hydrophoby, and near allied
Scar'd Madnefs, with her moon-ftruck eye-balls flaring wide,
XIV.
There, ftretch'd one huge, beneath the rocky mine *.
With boiling fulphur fraught, and {mouldering fires j
He, the dread delegate of Wrath Divine,
E'er while that flood o'er Taio's hundred fpires
Vindi&ive ; thrice he wav'd th' earth-fliaking wand,
Powerful as that the foil of Amram bore,
And thrice he rais'd, aud thrice he check'd his hand.
He ftruck, the rocking ground with thund'rous roar
Yawn'd ! Here from ftreet to flreet hurries, and there
NQW runs, now flops, then fhrieks and fcours amain, .
Staring Diftraftion : many a palace fair,
With millions finks ingulph'd, and pillar'd fane ;
Old Ocean's fartheft waves confefs the mock ;
E'en Albion trembled, confcious, on his ftedfaft rock,
XV,
The meagre Famine there ; and, drunk with blood,
Stern War ; and the loath'd monfter, whom of yore
The flimy Naiad of the Memphian flood
Engend'ring, to the bright-hair'd Phcebus bore,
Foul Peftilence, that on the wide-ftretch'd wings
Of Commerce fpeeds from Cairo's fwarthy bay
His weftering flight, and thro' the iick air flings
Spotted Contagion ; at his heels Difmay
And Defolation urge their fire-wheel'd yoke
Terrible ; as long of old, when from the height
Gf Paran came unwrath'd the Mightieft, /hook
Earth's firm nx'd bafe tottering ; thro' the black night
Glanc'd the flafli'd lightnings' j heaven's rent roof abroad
Thunder'd ; and univerfal nature felt it's God.
* A!!u.ib?2 to the earthquake at LIfbon,
XVI. Who
BEAUTIES OF FOETKY.
XVI.
Who on that fcene of terror, on that hour
Of rouzcd indignation, lhall xvithftand
Th' Almighty, when he meditates to fhovver
The burfting vengeance o'er a guilty land !
Canft thou, fecure in Reafon's vaunted pride,
Tongue-doughty mifcreant, who but now didft gor
With more than Hebrew rage th' innocent fide
Of agonizing mercy, bleeding fore ;
Canft thou confront, with ftedfaft eye unaw'd.
The fworded judgment {talking far and near ?
Well may'ft thou tremble, when an injur'd God
Difclaims thee guilt is ever quick of fear
Loud whirlwinds howl in Zephyr's fofteft breath ;
And every glancing meteor glares imagin'd death.
XVII.
The good alone are fearlefs, they alone
Firm and collected in their virtue, brave
The wreck of worlds, and look unfluinking dowa
On the dread yawnings of the rav'nous grave :
Thrice happy ! who the blamelefs road along
Of honeft praife hath reach'd the vale of death ;
Around him, like miniftrant cherubs, throng
His better actions ; to the parting breath
Singing their blefled requiems ; he the while
Gently repofmg on fome friendly breaft,
Breathes out his benizons ; then with a fmile
Of foft complacence, lays him down to reft,
Calm as the flumbering infant : from the goaj
Free and unbounded flies the difembody'd foul.
XVIH.
Whether fome delegated charge below,
Some much-lov'd friend it's hovering carr may claim.
Whether it heaven-ward foars, again to know
That long- forgo tten, country whence i
3 5 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Conjecture ever, the misfcatur'd child
Of letter'd arrogance, delights to run
Thro' Speculation's puzzling mazes wild,
And all to end at laft \vhere it begun.
Fain would we trace, with Reafon's erring clue,
The darkfome paths of deftiny aright :
In vain ; the talk were eafier to purfue
The tracklefs wheelings of the fwallow's flight.
From mortal ken himfelf th' Almighty mrouds,
Pavilion 'd in thick night and circumambient clouds.
THE GEN-EALOGY OF CHRIST,
AS IT IS REPRESENTED ON THE EAST WINDOW OF WIN-
CHESTER COLLEGE CHAPEL.
WRITTEN WHEN AT WIN TON SCHOOJ.
BY DR. LOWTH.
AT once to raife our reverence and delight,
To elevate the mind, and pleafe the fight,
To pour in virtue at th' attentive eye,
And waft the foul on wings of extafy ;
For this the painter's art with nature vies,
And bids the vifionary faint arife ;
Who views the facred forms in thought afpires.
Catches pure zeal, and, as he gazes, fires ;
Feels the fame ardour to his breaft convey'd,
Is what he fees, and emulates the made.
Thy ftrokes, great Artift, fo fublime appear,
They check our pleafare with an awful fear ;
While, thro' the mortal line, the God you trace,
Author himfelf, and Heir of Jefle's race ;
Jn raptures we admire thy bold defign,
And, as the fubjeft, own the hand divine.
While thro' thy work the rifir.g day fhall ftream,
So long fhall hit thy honour, praife, and name.
And
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 3qt
And may thy labours to the Mufe impart
Some emanation from her filler art,
To animate the verfe, and bid it ihine
In colours eafy, bright, and ilroag, as thine.
Supine on earth an awful figure lies,
While foftefl (lumbers feem to feal his eyes ;
The hoary fire Heaven's guardian care demands,
And at his feet the watchful angel {lands.
The form augufl and large, the mien divine,
Betray the founder of Meifiah's line *.
Lo ! from his loins the promis'd llem afcends.
And high to Heaven it's facred boughs extends :
Each limb productive of fome hero fprings,
And blooms luxuriant with a race of kings.
Th' eternal plant wide fpreads it's arms around,
And with the mighty Branch the myflick top is crown'J.
And lo ! the glories of th' illuilrious line,
At their firfl dawn with ripen'd fplendours mine,
In David all exprefs'd ; the good, the great,
The king, the hero, and the man compleat.
Serene he fits, and fweeps the golden lyre,
And blends the prophet's with the poet's fire.
See ! with what art he flrikes the vocal firings,
The God, his theme, iufpiring what he fmgs !
Hark ! or our ears delude us ; from his tongue
Sweet flows, or feems to flow, fome heavenly fong.
O ! could thine art arrefl the fleeting found,
And paint the voice in magick numbers bound ;
Could the warm fun, as erfl when Memnon play'd,
Wake with his rifing beam the vocal fhade :
Then might he draw th' attentive angels down,
Bending to hear the lay, fo fweet, fo like their own.
On either fide the monarch's offspring fhine,
And fome adorn, and fome difgrace their line.
* Jefle.
Here
S 2 BEAUTIES OF
Here Ammon glories ; proud, inceftuous lord !
This hand fuftains the robe, and that the fword.
Frowning and fierce, with haughty ftrides he tow'rs*
And on his horrid brow defiance lours.
There Abfalom the ravifh'd fceptre fways,
And his ftol'n honour all his mame difplays :
The bafe ufurper youth ! who joins in one
The rebel iubjeft, and th' ungrateful fon.
Amid the royal race, fee Nathan ftand :
Fervent he feems to fpeak, and lift his hand ;
His looks th' emotion of his foul difclofe,
And eloquence from ev'ry gefture flows.
Such, and fo ftern he came, ordain'd to bring
Th' ungrateful mandate to the guilty king :
When, at his dreadful voice, a fudden fmart
Shot thro' the trembling monarch's confcious heart j
From his own lips condemn'd ; fevere decree !
Had his God prov'd fo ftern a Judge as he.
But man with frailty is ally'd by birth ;
Confummate purity ne'er dwelt on earth :
Thro* all the foul tho' virtue holds the rein.
Beats at the heart, and fprings at ev'ry vein ;
Yet ever from the cleareft fource have ran
Some grofs allay, fome tinfture of the man.
But who is he deep mufing? In his mind
He feems to weigh, in Reafon's fcales, mankind I
Fix'd Contemplation holds his fteady eyes !
I know the fage ; the wifeft of the wife *.
Blefs'd with all man could wifh, or prince obtain,
Yet his great heart pronounc'd thofe bleffings vain,
And lo ! bright glittering in his facred hands,
In miniature the glorious templd ftands.
Effulgent frame ! ftupendous to behold !
Gold the ftrong valves, the roof of burnifli'd gold $
* Solomon*
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
353
The wandering ark, iii that bright dome infhrin'd,
Spreads the ftrong light, eternal, unconfiu'd !
Above, th' unutterable glory plays ;
Prefence Divine ! and the full-ftreaming rays V
Pour thro' reluftant crowds intolerable blaze.
But ftern oppreffion rends Reboam^s reign ;
See the gay prince, injurious, proud, and vain !
Th' imperial fceptre totters in his hand,
And proud rebellion triumphs in the land.
Curs'd with corruption's ever-fruitful fpring,
A beardlefs fenate, and a haughty king.
There Afa, good and great, the fceptre bears,
Juftice attends his peace, fuccefs his wars :
While Virtue was his fword, and Heaven his (Held,
Without controul the warrior fwept the field ;
Loaded with fpoils, triumphant he return'd,
And half her fwarthy fons fad Ethiopia mourn'd.
But fince thy flagging piety decay'd,
And barter'd God's defence for human aid ;
See their fair laurels wither on thy brow !
Nor herbs nor healthful arts avail thee now ;
Nor is Heaven chang'd, apoltate prince, but thou !
No mean atonement does this lapfe require ;
But fee the fon, you muft forgive the fire :
He, the juft prince * ; with ev'ry virtue blefs'd
He reign'd, and goodnefs all the man poffefs'd ;
Around his throne fair happinefs and peace
Smooth'd ev'ry brow, and fmil'd in ev'ry face.
As when along the burning wafte he ftray'd,
Where no pure ftreams in bubbling mazes play'd,
Where Drought, incumbent on the thirfty ground,
Long fmce had breath'd her fcorching blafts around ;
The prophet f calls, th' obedient floods repair
To the parch'd fields, for Jofaphat was there.
I
Jotphat.
Yy The
35* BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
The nevv-fprung waves, in many a gurgling vein,
Trickle luxurious thro' the fucking plain ;
Frefh honours the reviving fields adorn,
And o'er the defart Plenty pours her horn.
So, from the throne his influence he fheds,
And bids the Virtues raife their languid heads ;
Where'er he goes, attending Truth prevails,
Oppreffion flies, and Juftice lifts her fcales.
See, on his arm, the royal eagle (land,
Great type of conqueft and fupreme command ;
Th' exulting bird diiKnguifh'd triumph brings,
And greets the monarch with expanded wings :
Fierce Moab's fons prevent th' impending blow,
Rum on themfelves, and fall without the foe.
The pious hero vanquifh'd Heav'n by prayer j
His faith an army, and his vows a war.
Thee, too, Ozias, fates indulgent blefs'd,
And thy days fhone, in faireft aftions drefs'd ;
Till that rafh hand, by fome blind frenzy fway'd,
Unclean, the facred office doift invade :
Quick o'er thy limbs the furfy venom ran,
And hoary filth befprinkled all the man.
Tranfmiffive worth adorns the pious fon *,
The father's virtues with the father's throne.
Lo ! there he ftands ; he who the rage fubdu'd
Of Ammon's fons, and drench'd his fword in Mood ?
And doft thou, Ahaz, Judah's fcourge, difgrace,
With thy b&fe front, the glories of thy race ?
See the vile king his iron fceptre bear-
His only praife attends the pious heir f ;
He, in whofe foul the virtues all confpire,
The belt good fon, from the moft wicked fire.
And, lo ! in Hezekiah's golden reign,
Long exil'd Piety returns again :
Jotham. f Herekiah.
Again,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 35 ;
Again, in genuine purity me mines,
And with her prefence gilds the long-negleled fhrines.
Ill-ftarr'd does proud Affyria's impious Lord *
Bid Heaven to arms, and vaunt his dreadful fword ;
His own vain threats th' infulting king o'erthrow,
But breathe new courage on the generous foe.
Th' avenging Angel, by Divine command,
The fiery fword full-blazing in his hand,
Lean'd down from Heav'n : amid the ftorni he rode,
March'd Peftilence before him ; as he trod,
Pale Defolation bath'd his fteps in blood.
Thick wrapt in night, through the proud hoft he pafs'd,
Difpenfmg death, and drove the furious blaft ;
Nor bade Deftruclion give her revels o'er,
Till the gorg'd fword was drunk with human gore.
But what avails thee, pious prince ; in vain
Thy fceptre refcu'd, and th' Aflyrian (lain J
E'en now the foul maintains her lateft ftrife,
And Death's chill grafp congeals the fount of life.
Yet fee, kind Heaven renews thy brittle thread,
And rolls full fifteen fummers o'er thy head ;
Lo ! the receding fun repeats his way,
And, like thy life, prolongs the falling day.
Tho' Nature her inverted courfe forego,
The day forget to reft, the time to flow,
Yet mail Jehovah's fervants ftand fecvjre,
His mercy fix'd, eternal mall endure ;
On them her ever-healing rays mall mine ;
More mild, and bright, and fure, O fun ! than thine.
At length, the long-expecled prince behold !
The laft good king, in ancient days foretold,
When Bethel's altar fpoke his future fame,
Rent to it's bafe at good Jofiah's name.
* Sennacherib.
Y y 2 Blf ft.
356 BEAUTIES OF POETRV.
Bleft, happy prince ! o'er whofe lamented urn,
In plaintive fong, all Judah's daughters mourn ;
For whom fad Sion's fofteft forrow flows,
And Jeremiah pours his fweet melodious woes,
But now fall'n Sion, once the fair and great,
Sits deep in duft, abandon'd, defolate ;
Bleeds her fad heart, and ever ftream her eyes,
And anguifh tears her with convulfive fighs.
The mournful captive fpreads her hands in vain ;
Her hands, that rankle with the fervile chain ;
Till he, great chief* ! in Heaven's appointed time,
Leads back her children to their native clime.
Fair Liberty revives with all her joys,
And bids her envy'd walls fecurely rife.
And thou, great hallow'd dome, in ruin fpread,
Again fhall lift fublime thy facred head :
But ah ! with weeping eyes, the ancients view
A faint refemblance of the old in you.
No more th } effulgent glory of thy God
Speaks awful anfwers from the myftick cloud ;
No more thine altars blaze with fire divine,
And Heaven has left thy folitary fhrine :
Yet, in thy courts, hereafter {halt thou fee
Prefence immediate of the Deity,
The light himfelf reveal'd, the God confefs'd in thee !
And now, at length, the fated term of years
The world's defire have brought ; and lo ! the God appears.
The heavenly babe the Virgin Mother bears,
And her fond looks confefs the parent's cares ;
The pleafing burden on her breaft me lays,
Hangs o'er his charms, and with a fmile furveys.
The infant fmiles, to her fond bofom prefs'd,
And wantons, fportive, on the mother's breaft :
ZorobabH.
A ruliant
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 357
A radiant glory fpeaks hirh all divine,
And in the child the beams of Godhead flunc !
But now, alas ! far other views difclofe
The blackeft comprehenfive fcene of woes.
See where man's voluntary facrifice
Bows his meek head, and God Eternal dies !
Fix'd to the crofs, his healing arms are bound, ^
While copious Mercy ftreams from ev'ry wound.
Mark the blood-drops that life-exhaufting roll,
And the ftrong pang that rends the ftubborn foul !
As all death's tortures, with fevere delay,
Exult and riot in the nobleft prey !
And can'ft thou, ftupid man, thofe forrows fee,
Nor mare the anguifli which he bears for thee ?
Thy fin, for which his facred flefh is torn,
Points ev'ry nail, and fliarpens ev'ry thorn ;
Can'ft thou ? while Nature fmarts in ev'ry wound,
And each pang cleaves the fympathetick ground !
Lo ! the black fun, his chariot backward driven.
Blots out the day, and periflies from Heaven :
Earth, trembling from her entrails, bears a part,
And the rent rock upbraids man's ftubborn heart ;
The yawning grave reveals his gloomy reign,
And the cold clay-clad dead ftart into life again.
And thou, O tomb, once more (halt wide difplay
Thy fatiate jaws, and give up all thy prey :
Thou, groaning earth, (halt heave, abforpt in flame,
As the laft pangs convulfe thy labouring frame ;
When the fame God unihrouded thou malt fee,
Wrapt in full blaze of power and majefty,
Ride on the clouds ; whilft, as his chariot flies,
The bright effufion ftreams thro' all the flues.
Then mail the proud difTolving mountains glow,
And yielding rocks in fiery rivers flow :
The molten deluge round the globe mail roar,
And all man's arts and labour be no more.
Then
35$ BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Then ftull the fplendours of th' enliven'd glafs
Sink undiftingui&'d in the burning mafs.
And O ! till earth and feas, and heaven decay,
Ne'er may that fair creation fade away ;
May winds and ftorms thofe beauteous colours fpare,
Still may they bloom, as permanent as fair ;
AH the vain rage of wafting time repe! 5
And his tribunal fee, whofe crofs they paint fb well !
TO WINTER.
BY MR. WOTY.
WHAT ! tho' thou com'ft in fable mantle clad,
Yet, Winter ! art thou welcome to my eye ;
Thee here I hail, tho' terrors round thee wait.
And winds tempeftuous howl along the fcy.
But {hall I then fo foon forget the days,
When Ceres led me thro' her wheaten mines ;
When Autumn pluck'd me, with his tawny hand>
Empurpled clufters from ambrofial vines !
So foon forget, when up the yielding pole
I faw afcend the filver-bearded hop ;
When Summer, waving high her crown of hay,
Pour'd o'er the mead her odorif 'rous crop !
I rnuft forget them ; and thee too, O Spring !
Tho' many a chaplet thou haft weav'd for me :
For now, prepar'd to quit th' enchanting fcene,
Cold, weeping Winter ! I come all to thee.
Hail
BEAUTIES OF POETRY, 359
Hail to thy rolling clouds, and rapid ftorms !
Tho* they deform fair Nature's lovely face :
Hail to thy winds, that fweep along the earth !
Tho' trees they root up from their folid bafe.
How fickiied over is the face of things !
Where is the fpice-kifs of the fouthern gale 1
Where the wild rofe, that fmiPd upon the thorn,
The mountain flow'r, and lily of the vale !
How gloomy 'tis to caft the eye around,
And view the trees difrob'd of ev'ry leaf;
The velvet path grown rough with clotting Ihow'rs,
And ev'ry field depriv'd of ev'ry Iheaf !
How far more gloomy, o'er the rain -beat heath,
Alone to travel in the dead of night !
No twinkling ftar to gild the arch of heav'n,
No moon to lend her temporary light :
To fee the lightning fpread it's ample meet,
And view the wild wafte thro* its liquid fire,
To hear the thunder rend the troubled air,
As Time itfelf and Nature would expire.
-And yet, O Winter ! has thy poet feen
Thy face as fmooth, and placid as the Spring ;
Has felt, with comfort felt the beam of heav'n,
And heard thy vallies and thy woodlands ring ;
What time the Sun with burnim'd locks arofe,
The long-loft charms of Nature to renew,
When pearls of ice bedeck'd the grafiy turf,
And tree-tops floated in the filver-dew.
Father
3 6o JSEAUTtES OF POETRY.
Father of heav'n and earth ! this change is thine i
By thee the feafons in gradation roll ;
Thou great Omnifcient Ruler of the world !
Thou Alpha and Omega of the whole I
Here humbly bow we down our heads to thee j
'Tis ours the voice of gratitude to raife :
Thine to diffufe thy bleffings o'er the land ;
Thine to receive the incenfe of our praife !
Pure if it rifes from the confcious heart,
With thee for ever does the fymbol live
Tho' fmall for all thy love is man's return,
Thou aflc'ft no more than he has pow'r to give.
THE HERMIT.
BY DR. GOLDSMITH.
>"T^ URN, gentle Hermit of the dale,
JL And guide my lonely way
To where yon taper chears the vale
With hofpitable ray.
' For here forlorn and loft I tread,
' With fainting fteps and flow ;
* Where wilds, immeafurably fpread,
* Seem length'ning as I go.'
' Forbear, my fon,' the Hermit cries,
To tempt the dang'rous gloom >
* For yonder phantom only flies
To lure thee to thy doom.
Hen
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 361
* Here to the houfelefs child of want
' My door is open ftill ;
* And tho' my portion is but fcant,
' I give it with good will.
' Then turn to-night, and freely fhare
' Whate'er my cell bellows ;
' My rufliy couch and frugal fare,
' My bleffing and repofe.
' No flocks that range the valley free
' To (laughter I condemn ;
' Taught by that Power that pities me,
' I learn to pity them :
* But from the mountain's grafiy fide
' A guiltlefs feaft I bring ;
* A fcrip with herbs and fruits fupply'd,
' And water from the fpriug,
* Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego ;
' All earth-born cares are wrong :
* Man wants but little here below,
' Nor wants that little long.'
Soft as the dew from heaven dcfcends,
His gentle accents fell :
The modeft ftranger lowly bends.
And follows to the cell.
Far in a wildernefs obfcure
The lonely manfion lay ;
A refuge to the neighb'ring poor>
And ftrangers led aitray.
Z 2 No
3 6z BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
No (lores beneath it's humble thatch
Requir'd a matter's care ;
The wicket op'ning with a latch
Receiv'd the harmlefs pair.
And now when bufy crowds retire
To take their evening reft,
The Hermit trimm'd his little ftre,
And chear'd his penfive gueft ;
And fpread his vegetable ftore,
And gayly prefs'd, and fmil'd ;
And, (kiU'd in legendary lore,
The ling'ring hours beguil'd.
Around in fympathetick mirth
It's tricks the kitten tries,
The cricket chirrups in the hearth,
The crackling faggot flies.
But nothing could a charm impart*
To foothe the ftranger's woe ;
For grief was heavy at his heart,
And tears began to flow.
His rifing cares the Hermit fpy'd,
With anfwering care opprefs'd :
' And whence, unhappy youth,' he cry'd,
' The forrows of thy bread ?
From better habitations fpurn'd,
' Reluftant doft thou rove ?
Or grieve for friendlhip unreturn'd,
Or unregarded love ?
HateV.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 3 6 3
Alas ! the joys that fortune brings
' Are trifling, and decay ;
And thofe who prize the paultry things
' More trifling Hill than they.
* And what is Friendfhip but a name,
' A charm that lulls to fleep ;
' A fhade that follows wealth or fame,
' And leaves the wretch to weep ?
' And Love is flill an emptier found,
c The modern fair-one's jeft ;
' On earth unfeen, or only found
* To warm the turtle's ncft.
* For mame, fond youth ! thy forrows hufli,
* And fpurn the fex !' he faid :
But while he fpoke, a rifing blum
His love-lorn gueft betray'd.
Surpriz'd he fees new beauties rife,
Swift mantling to the view,
Like colours o'er the morning flcies,
As bright, as tranfient too.
The bamful look, the rifing breaft,
Alternate fpread alarms ;
The lovely ftranger ftands confefs'd
A maid in all her charms.
* And, ah! forgive a ftranger rude,
' A wretch forlorn,' me cry'd,
Whofe feet unhallow'd thus intrude
' Where Heaven and you refide !
Z z a 'But
364. BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
' But let a maid thy pity {hare,
' Whom love lias taught to ftray ;
' Who feeks for reft, but finds defpair
' Companion of her way.
' My father liv'd befide the Tyne,
' A wealthy lord was he ;
* And all his wealth was mark'd as mine. ;
' He had but only me.
* To win me from. his tender arms
' Unnumber'd fuitors came ;
* Who prais'd me for imputed charms,
And felt, or feign'd a flame.
' Each hour a mercenary crowd
With richeft proffers ftrove ;
* Among the reft young Edwin bow'd,
' But never talk'd of love.
* In humble, fimpleft habit clad,
No wealth or power had he ;
' Wifdom and worth were all he had,
* But thefe were all to me.
' The blofibm opening to the day,
* The dews of heaven refin'd,
* Could nought of purity difplay
' To emulate his mind.
* The dew, the bloilbms of the tr.ee,
' With charms inconftant mine :
* Their charms were his ; but, woe to me !
Their conftancy was mine.
For
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 365
For Hill I try'd each fickle art,
' Importunate and vain ;
* And while his paflion touch'd my heart,
* I triumph'd in his pain :
Till quite deje&ed with my fcorn,
' He left me to my pride ;
* And fought a folitude forlurn,
' In fecret, where he died.
' But mine the forrow, mine the fault!
And well my life mall pay ;
' I'll feek the folitude he fought,
' And ftretch me where he lay !
' And there forlorn, defpairing hid,
' I'll lay me down and die j
' 'Twas fo for me that Edwin did,
And fo for him will I !'
* Forbid it, Heaven!' the Hermit cry'd,
And clafp'd her to his brcaft :
The wond'ring fair-one turn'd to chide,
'Twas Edwin's felf that prefs'd.
* Turn, Angelina, ever clear ;
' My charmer, turn to fee
f Thy own, thy long-loll Edwin here,
Reftor'd to love and thee.
' Thus let me hold thee to my heart,
' And every care refign :
' And mail we never, never part,
' My life my all that's mine !
No,
366 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
No, never from this hour to part ;
* We'll live and love fo true,
* The figh that rends thy conftant heart
f Shall break thy Edwin's too !'
THE ENTHUSIAST.
AN ODE.
BY WILLIAM WHITEHEAD, E S Qi
ON C E, I remember well the day,
'Twas ere the blooming fweets of May
Had loft their frefheft hues ;
When every flower on every hill,
In every vale, had drank it's fill
Of funmine and of dews.
In'fiiort, 'twas that fweet feafon's prime,
When Spring gives up the reins of Time,
To Summer's glowing hand,
And doubting mortals hardly know
By whofe command the breezes blow
Which fan the fmiling land.
'Twas then, befide a green-wood made,
Winch cloath'd a lawn's afpiring head,
I urg'd my devious way,
With loit'ring fteps, regardlefs where,
So foft, fo genial was the air,
So wond'rous bright the day.
AnJ now my eyes with tranfport rove
O'er all the blue expanfe above,
Unbroken by a cloud !
And
BEAUTIES OF POETRY 367
And now beneath delighted pafs,
Where winding thro' the deep-green grafs
A full-brimm'd river flow'd.
I flop, I ga7e ; in accents rude,
To thee, fereneft Solitude,
Burft forth th' unbidden lay :
' Be gone, vile world ! the learn'd, the wife,
' The great, the bufy I defpife,
* And pity e'en the gay.
Thefe, thefe are joys alone,' I cry;
4 'Tis here, divine Philofbphy,
Thou deign'lt to fix thy throne !
* Here Contemplation points the road,
* Thro' Nature's charms, to Nature's God !
' Thefe, thefe are joys alone !
' Adieu, ye vain low-thoughted cares,
' Ye human hopes, and human fears,
' Ye pleafures and ye pains !'
While thus I fpake, o'er all my foul
A philofophick calmnefs ftole,
A ftoick ftillnefs reigns.
The tyrant paflions all fubfide,
Fear, anger, pity, fhame and pride,
No more my bofom move ;
Yet ftiil I felt, or feem'd to fel,
A kind of vifionary zeal
Of univerfal love.
When, lo ! a voice, a voice I hear !
'Twas Reafon whifper'd in my ear
Thefe monitory ftrain<; :
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
What mean 'ft thou, man ? would'ft tjioa unbind
The ties which conftitute thy kind,
' The pleafures and the pains ?
4 The fame Almighty Power unfeeri,
c Who fpreads the gay or folemn fceiie
To Contemplation's eye,
Fix'd ev'ry movement of the foul,
' Taught ev'ry wim it's deftin'd goal,
' And quicken'd ev'ry joy.
' He bids the tyrant paflions rage,
' He bids them war eternal wage,
' And combat each his foe ;
' Till from difienfions concords rife,
' And beauties from deformities,
' And happinefs from woe.
' Art thou not man, and dar'ft thou find
' A blifs which leans not to mankind , ?
* Prefumptuous thought and vain !
Each blifs unmar'd is unenjoy'd ;
' Each power is weak, unlefs employ'd
* Some focial good to gain.
Shall light and made, and warmth and air,
With thofe exalted joys compare
Which aaive Virtue feels !
When on me drags, as lawful prize,
Contempt, and Indolence, and Vice,
* At her triumphant wheels.
As reft to labour ftill fucceeds
To man, whilil Virtue's glorious deeds
' Employ his toilfome day ;
This
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 3 6 9
* This fair variety of things,
* Are merely life's refreihing fprings,
' To foothe him on his way.
c Enthuiiaft, go ! unilring thy lyre,
* In vain thou fing'ft, if none admire,
' How fweet foe'er the ftrain.
* And is uot thy o'erflowing mind,
* Unlefs thou mixeft with thy kind,
' Benevolent in vain ?
* Enthufiaft, go! try every fenfe;
* If not thy blifs, thy excellence,
' Thou yet haft learn'd to fcan ;
' At leaft thy wants, thy weaknefs know,
' And fee them all uniting fhow,
* That man was made for man.'
THE CURE OF SAUL.
A SACRED ODE.
BY D R. B R O W N.
* T T ENGEANCE, arife from thy infernal bed,
V ' And pour thy tempeft on his guilty head !'
Thus Heaven's decree, in thunder's found,
Shook the dark abyfs profound.
The unchain'd Furies come !
Pale Melancholy ftalks from hell :
Th' abortive offspring of her womb,
Defpair and Anguifh, round her yell.
By fleeplefs terror Saul poflefs'd,
Deep feels the fiend within his tortur'd breaft.
3 A Midnight
370 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Midnight fpe&res round him howl :
Before his eyes
In troops they rife ;
And feas of horror overwhelm his foul.
' Hafle ! to JefiVs fon repair ;
He belt can fweep the lyre,
Wake the folemn-founding air,
* And lead the vocal choir :
' On every firing foft-breathing raptures dwell,
' To foothe the throbbings of the troubled breait ;
' Whofe magick voice can bid the tides of pafllon fwell,
' Or lull the raging ftorm to reft.'
Sunk on his couch, and loathing day,
The heaven-forfaken monarch lay :
To the fad couch the fhepherd now drew near ;
And, while th' obedient choir flood round,
Prepar'd to catch the foul-commanding found,
He dropp'd a generous tear.
' Thy pitying aid, O God, impart !
' For !o, thy poifon'd arrows drink his heart !'
The mighty fong from Chaos rofe :
Around his throne the formlefs atoms fleep,
And drowzy darknefs broods upon the deep.
' Confufion, wake !
' Bid the realms of Chaos make !
' Rouze him from his dread repofe !'
Hark ! loud Difcord breaks her chain :
The hoftile atoms clam with deaf'ning roar ;
Her hoarfe voice thunders thro' the drear domain,
And kindles every element to war.
" Tumult ceafe !
" Sink to peace !
" Let there be light !" th' Almighty faid : '
Aad
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 3?I
' And lo, the radiant fun,
' Flaming from his orient bed,
c His endlefs conrfe begun !
' See, the twinkling Pleiads rife :
* Thy ftar, Orion, reddens in the Ikies ;
' While flow around the northern plain,
' Arfturus wheels his nightly wane.'
Thy glories, too, refulgent moon, he fung ;
Thy myftick mazes, and thy changeful ray :
' O, faireft of the ftarry throng !
' Thy fblemn orb of light
' Guides the triumphant car of Night
* O'er filver clouds, and Iheds a fofter day !
* Ye planets, and each circling conftellation,
' In fongs harmonious tell your generation !
' Oh ! while yon radiant feraph turns the fpheres,
' And on the ftedfaft pole-ftar ftands fublime ;
' Wheel your rounds
To heavenly founds,
And foothe his fong-enchanted ears
' With your celeftial chime.'
In dumb furprize the lift'ning monarch lay ;
(His woe fufpended by fweet Mufick's fway;)
And awe-ftruck, with uplifted eye,
Mus'd on the new-born wonders of the fky.
' Lead the foothing verfe along;
' He feels, he feels the power of fong !
* Ocean haftens to his bed ;
< The lab'ring mountain rears his rock-encumberM hfad:
' Down his ftcep and thaggy fide,
The torrent rolls his thundering tide ;
3 A 2 c Then
37 z BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
' Then, fmooth and clear, along the fertile plain
' Winds his majeftick waters to the diftant main.
' Flocks and herds the hills adorn ;
' The lark, high foaring, hails the morn.
' And while along yon crimfon-clouded fteep
' The flow fun fteals into the golden deep,
' Hark ! the folemn nightingale
' Warbles to the woodland dale.
' See, defcending angels mower
' Heaven's own blifs on Eden's bower :
' Peace on Nature's lap repofes ;
' Pleafure ftrews her guiltlefs rofes ;
' Joys divine in circles move,
' Link'd with Innocence and Love.
' Hail, happy Love, with Innocence combin'd!
All hail, ye fmlefs parents of mankind !'
They paus'd : the monarch, proftrate on his bed,
Submiffive, bow'd his head;
Ador'd the works of boundlefs power Divine :
Then, anguifh-ftruck, he cry'd, (and fmote his breaft)
' Why, why is Peace the welcome gueft
' Of ev'ry heart but mine I*
' Now let the folemn numbers flow,
* Till he feel that guilt is woe.'
' Heavenly harp, in mournful ftrain,
* O'er yon weeping bower complain :
' What founds of bitter pangs I hear !
' What lamentations wound mine ear !
* In vain, devoted pair, thefe tears ye fhed ;
' Peace with Innocence is fled :
* The meflengers of Grace depart ;
' Death glares, and (hakes the dreadful dart !
* Ah, whither fly ye, by yourfelves abhorr'd,
* To faun that frowning cherub's fiery fword !
' Lo
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 373
* Lo!
' Haplefs, haplefs pair,
' Goaded by defpair,
* Forlorn, thro' defart climes they go !
' Wake, my lyre ! can Pity deep,
' When Heaven is mov'd, and angels weep !
' Flow, ye melting numbers, flow;
* Till he feel that guilt is woe.'
The king, with pride, and fhame, and anguiih torn,
Shot fury from his eyes, and fcorn.
The glowing youth,
Bold in truth,
(So ftill mould virtue guilty power engage)
With brow undaunted met his rage.
See, his cheek kindles into generous fire !
Stern, he bends him o'er his lyre;
And, while the doom of guilt he fings,
Shakes horror from the tortur'd firings,
' What founds of terror and diftrefs
* Rend yon howling wildernefs !
' The dreadful thunders found !
' The forked lightnings flam along the ground !
' Why yawns that deep'ning gulph below ?
' 'Tis for Heaven's rebellious foe !
* Fly, ye fons of Ifrael, fly ;
' Who dwells in Korah's guilty tents muft die !
* They fink ! Have mercy, Lord ! Their cries
' In dreadful tumult rife !
* Hark ! from the deep their loud laments I hear !
* They leflen now, and leffen on the ear !
* Now, deftruftion's ftrife is o'er |
* The countlefs hoft
( For ever loft !
* The gulph is clos'd ! Their cries are heard no more !
< But
37 4 BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
Bat ah, my lyre! what accents can relate
Sinful man's appointed fate 1
* He comes, he comes ! th' avenging God I
' Clouds and darknefs round him roll:
* Tremble, earth ! ye mountains, nod !
' He bows the Ikies, and {hakes the pole.
' The gloomy banners of his wrath unfurl'd,
He calls the floods, to drown a guilty world.
" Ruin, lift thy baleful head ;
" Roazc the guilty world from fkep ;
*' Lead up thy billows from their cavern'd bed,
" And burft the rocks that chain thee in the deep !""
' Now, th" impetuous torrents rife ;
' The hoarfe-afcending deluge roars ;
' Down ralh the cataracts from the fkies;
* The fwelling waves o'envhelm the fhores.
* Juft, O God, is thy decree !
* Shall guilty man contend with thee !
' Lo, Hate and Envy, fea-entomb'd,
* And Rage with Luft in ruin fleep;
' And fcoffing Luxury is doom'd
' To glut the vail and ravenous deep !
' In vain from Fate th' aftonifh'd remnant flies :
" Shrink, ye rocks I Ye oceans, rife!"
The tottering cliffs no more the floods, controul;
* Sea, following fea, ingulphs the ball :
' O'er the funk hills the wat'ry mountains roll,
' And wide Deftrnction fwallows all.
Now fiercer let th' empafTi&n'd numbers glow :
' Swell the fong, ye mighty choir !
* Wing your dreadful darts with fire !
' Hear me, monarch ! Guilt is woe I*
Thus while the frowning fhepherd pour'd along
The deep impetuous torrent of his fong ;
Saul,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 37 -
Saul, ftung by dire defpalr,
Gnafh'd his teeth, and tore his hair :
From his blood, by horror chill'd,
A cold and agonizing fweat diftill'd ;
Then, foaming with unutterable fmart,
He aim'd a dagger at his heart.
His watchful train prevent the blow;
And call each lenient balm to foothe his fraatick woe;
But pleas'd, the fhepherd now beheld
His pride by Heaven's own terrors qsell'd;
Then bade his potent lyre controul
The mighty ftonn that rent his foul.
' Ceafe your cares ! the body's pain
' A fweet relief may find;
' But gums and lenient balms are vain,
' To heal the wounded mind.
' Come, fair Repentance, from the Ikies ;
' O fainted maid, with upcaft eyes !
* Defcend, in thy celeftial fliroud,
' Vefted in a weeping cloud !
* Holy Guide, defcend, and bring
' Mercy from th' Eternal King !
* To his foul your beams impart,
' And whifper comfort to his heart !
* They come. O king, thine ear incline !
' Liiten to their voice divine:
' Their voice (hall every pang compofe,
* To gentle forrow foothe thy woes ;
* Till each pure wifh to heaven mall foar,
' And Peace return, to part no more I
Behold, obedient to their great command,
The lifted dagger quits his trembling hand !
Smooth'd is his brow, where fallen Care
And furrow'd Horror couch'd with fc.ll Defpair :
No
376 , BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
No more his eyes with fury glow ;
But heavenly grief fuCceeds to hell-born woe.
' See, the figns of grace appear I
' See the foft relenting tear,
Trickling at fweet. Mercy's call !
' Catch it, angels, ere it fall !
' And let the heart-fent offering rife,
' Heaven's bed-accepted facriffce !'
Yet, yet again ! Ah ! fee, the pang returns !
Again with inward fire his heaving bofom burns !
' Now, fhepherd, wake a mightier ftrain ;
* Search the deep heart-rending pain ;
4 Till the large floods of forrow roll,
' And quench the tortures of his foul.'
' Almighty Lord, accept his pang fincere !
Let heavenly hope difpel each dark temptation !
' And, while he pours the penitential tear,
' O vifit him with thy falvation !
' Stoop from heaven, ye raptur'd throng !
* Sink, ye fwelling tides of fong !
' For lo ! diflblv'd by Mufick's melting power,
Celeftial Sorrow rolls her plenteous mower :
' O'er his wan cheek the colours rife,
' And beams of comfort brighten in his eyes.
' Happy king, thy woes are o'er !
' Thy God ihall wound thy foul no more :
' The pitying Father of mankind,
' Meets the pure-returning mind.'
' No more (hall black Defpair afflifl his foul !
* Each gentler found, ye (hepherds, now combine ;
' Sweetly let the numbers roll ;
' Soothe him into hope divine.
< Now
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 377
' Now lowly let the ruftick meafure glide,
' To quell the dark remains of felf-confuming pride ;
' Till Nature's home-fprung blelftngs he confefs,
* And own that calm content is happinefV
' Ye woods and lakes, ye cliffs and mountains !
* Haunted grots, and living fountains !
' Liften to your fliepherd's lay,
' Whofe artlefs carols clofe the day.
' Bounding kids around him throng ;
' The fteep rock echoes back his fottg :
* While all unfeen to mortal eye,
* Sliding down the evening fky,
' Holy Peace, tho' born above,
' Daughter of Innocence and Love,
' Quits her throne and manfion bright,
' Her crown of ftars and robe of light,
* Serene, in gentle fmiles array'd,
* To dwell beneath his palm-tree (hade.
* Hail, meek angel ! awful gueft !
f Still pour thy radiance o'er my breaft !
* Pride and Hate in courts may mine ;
' The fhepherd's calm and blamelefs tent is thine !'
' Softly, foftly breathe your numbers^
' And wrap his weary'd foul in flumbers !' *
Gentle fleep becalm his breaft,
And clofe his eyes in healing reft !
Defcend, celeftial vifions, ye who wait,
God's miniftring powers, at Heaven's eternal gate !
' Ye, who nightly vigils keep,
And rule the filent realms of fleep,
Exalt the juft to joys refin'd,
And plunge in woe the guilty mind,
f Defcend ! Oh, waft him to the Ikies,
And open all Heaven's glories to his eyes !
3 B ' Beyond
37 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
' Beyond yon ftarry roof, by feraphs trod,
' Where Light's unclouded fountains blaze ;
* Where choirs immortal hymn their God,
' Intranc'd in extafy of ceafelefs praife.
' Angels, heal his anguifti !
' Your harps and voices join !
' His grief to blifs mail languifh,
' When footh'd by founds divine.'
' Behold, with dawning joy each feature glows !
' Sec, the blifsful tear o'erflows !
' The fiend is fled ! Let Mufick's rapture rife :
' Now, Harmony, thy ev'ry nerve employ ;
' Shake the dome, and pierce the flues ;
4 Wake him, wake him into joy !'
What power can ev'ry Paflion's throne controul ?
What power can boaft the charm divine,
To fall the tempeft of the foul ?
Celeftial Harmony, that mighty charm is thine !
She, heavenly-born, came down to vifit earth,
When from God's eternal throne
The beam of all-creative Wifdom fhone,
And fpake fair Order into birth.
At Wifdom's call me robe'd yon glitt'ring fides,
Attun'd the fpheres, and taught confenting orbs to rife.
Angels wrapt in wonder ftood,
And faw that all was fair, and all was good.
'Twas then, ye fons of God, in bright array,
Ye mouted o'er creation's day':
Then kindling into joy,
The morning ftars together fung ;
And thro' the vaft ethereal fky
Seraphick hymns and loud hofannahs rung.
THE
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
THE BIRTH OF THE SQUIRE.
AN ECLOGUE.
BY M R. G A Y.
YE fylvau Mufes ! loftier ftrains recite ;
Not all in fhades and humble cotes delight.
Hark ! the bells ring ; along the diftant grounds
The driving gales convey the fwelling founds :
Th' attentive fwain, forgetful of his work,
With gaping wonder leans upon his fork.
What fudden news alarms the waking morn ?
To the glad Squire a hopeful heir is born.
Mourn, mourn, ye flags ! and all ye beafts of chafe !
This hour deftruftion brings on all your race.
Sec the pleas'd tenants duteous off'rings bear,
Turkeys and geefe, and grocer's fweeteft ware ;
With the new health the pond'rous tankard flows,
And old Oftober reddens ev'ry nofe.
Beagles and fpaniels round his cradle Hand,
Kifs his moift lip, and gently lick his hand ;
He joys to hear the fhrill horn's echoing founds,
And learns to lifp the names of all the hounds.
With frothy ale to make his cup o'erflow,
Barley mall in paternal acres grow ;
The bee fhall fip the fragrant dew from flow'rs,
To give metheglin for his morning hours ;
For him the cluft'ring hop mall climb the poles,
And his own orchard fparkle in his bowls.
His fire's exploits he now with wonder hears ;
The monftrous tales indulge his greedy ears :
How, when youth ftrung his nerves and warm'd his veins,
He rode the mighty Nimrod of the plain?.
3 B a Hr
380 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
He leads the flaring infant thro' the hall ;
Points out the horny fpoils that grace the wall ;
Tells how this flag thro' three whole counties fled,
What rivers fwam, where bay'd, and where he bled,
Now he the wonders of the fox repeats,
Defcribes the defp'rate chafe, and all his cheats ;
How, in one day, beneath his furious fpeed,
He tir'd feven courfers of the fleetell breed ;
How high the pale he leap'd, how wide the ditch,
When the hound tore the haunches of the witch *.
Thefe flories, which defcend from fon to fon,
The forward boy fhall one day make his own.
Ah 1 too fond mother ! think the time draws nigh
That calls the darling from thy tender eye ;
How fnall his fpirit brook the rigid rules,
And the long tyranny of grammar fchools ?
Let younger brothers o'er dull authors plod,
Lafh'd into Latin by the tingling rod :
No, let him never feel that fmart difgrace ;
Why fhould he wifer prove than all his race ?
When rip'ning youth with down o'erfliades his chin,
And ev'ry female eye incites to fin,
The milk-maid (thoughtlefs of her future fhame)
With fmacking lip fhall raife his guilty flame :
The dairy, barn, the hay-loft, and the grove,
Shall oft' be confcious of their flolen love.
But think, Prifcilla, on that dreadful time,
When pangs an,d wat'ry qualms fhall own thy crime ;
How wilt thou tremble, when thy nipple's prefs'd,
To fee the white drops bathe thy fwelling breail !
Nine moons fliall publicly divulge thy fhame,
And the young Squire foreflal a father's name.
When twice twelve times the reaper's fweeping hand
With levell'd harvefls has beflrown the land,
* The moft common acc'drnt to ff-crtfmen, to hunt a witoh in t!:e (h-p'
of a hare.
On
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 381
Q fam'd St. Hubert's feaft, his winding horn
Shall chear the joyful hound and wake the morn :
This memorable day his eager fpeed
Shall urge with bloody heel the rifing fteed.
O check the foamy bit ! nor tempt thy fate ;
Think on the murders of a five-bar gate !
Yet, prodigal of life, the leap he tries ;
Low in the duft his grov'ling honouf lies :
Headlong he falls, and on the rugged ftone
Diftorts his neck, and cracks the collar-boue.
O, vent'rous youth ! thy thirft of game allay ;
May'ft thou furvive the perils of this day !
He mall furvive ; and in late years be feat
To fnore away debates in Parliament.
The time fhall come when his more folid fenfe.
With nod important, mail the laws difpenfe;
A Juftice with grave juftices (hall fit ;
He praife their wifdom, they admire his wit.
No greyhound fhall attend the tenant's pace,
No rufty gun the farmer's chimney grace ;
Salmons (hall leave their coverts void of fear,
Nor dread the thievifh net or triple fpear ;
Poachers fhall tremble at his awful name,
Whom vengeance now o'ertakes for murdcr'd game.
Affift me, Bacchus ! and ye drunken pow'rs !
To fing his friendmips and his midnight hours.
Why doft thou glory in thy ftrength of beer,
Firm-cork'd, and mellow'd till the twentieth year,
Brew'd or when Phoebus warms the fleecy fign,
Or when his languid rays in Scorpio fhine ?
Think on the mifchiefs which from hence have fprung !
It arms with curfes dire the wrathful tongue ;
Foul fcandal to the lying lip affords,
And prompts the mem'ry with injurious words.
O, where is wifdom, when by this o'erpower'd ?
The ftate is cenfur'd, and the maid deflower 'd !
And
& BEAUTIES O.F POETRY.
And wilt thou ftill, O Squire ! brew ale fo ftrong?
Hear then the dictates of prophetick fong.
Methinks I fee him in his hall appear,
Where the long table floats in clammy beer ;
'Midft mugs and glafles fliatter'd o'er the floor,
Dead drunk, his fervile crew fupinely fnore;
Triumphant, o'er the proftrate brutes he ftands,
The mighty bumper trembles in his hands ;
Baldly he drinks ; and, like his glorious fires,
In copious gulps of potent ale expires, !
THE MOURNING MUSE OF ALEXIS.
A PASTORAL,
LAMENTING THE DEATH OF (^JTEEN MARY.
VRITTZN IN MDCXCJV.
BY MR. CONQREVE.
Inf-indum regim jubes renovare dolorem. Vitc
MENALCAS.
BEHOLD, Alexis ! fee this gloomy (hade,
Which feems alone for Sorrow's flicker made,
Where no glad beams of light can ever play,
But night, fucceeding night, excludes the day ;
Where nex'er birds with harmony repair,
And lightfome notes, to chear the dulky air,
To welcome day, or bid the fun farewel,
By morning lark or evening Philomel.
No violet here, nor daify, e'er was feen,
No f\veetly-budding flower, nor fpringing green j
For fragrant myrtle and the blufliing rofe,
Here baleful yew with deadly cyprefs grows.
Here,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. jjj,
Here, then, extended on this wither'd mofs,
We'll lie, and thou (halt fmg of Albion's lofs ;
Of Albion's lofs, and of Paftora's death,
Begin thy mournful fong, and raife thy tuneful breath,
ALEXIS.
Ah, woe too great ! ah, theme which far exceeds
The lowly lays of humble fliepherds reeds !
O could I fmg in verfe of equal ftrain
With the Sicilian bard or Mantuan fwain,
Or melting words and moving numbers chufr.
Sweet as the Britim Colin's Mourning Mule ;
Could I, like him, in tuneful grief excel,
And mourn like Stella for her Allrophel ;
Then might I raife my voice, (fecure of ftill)
And with melodious woe the vallies fill ;
The lift'ning echo on my fong ftaould wait,
And hollow rocks Paftora's name repeat;
Each whittling wind and murm'ring ftream mould tell,
How lov'd me liv'd, and how lamented fell.
MEN'ALCAS.
Wert thou with ev'ry bay and laurel crown'd,
And high as Pan himfelf in long renown'd,
Yet would not all thy art avail to mow
Verfe worthy of her name or of our woe :
But fuch true paffion in thy face appears,
In thy pale lips, thick fighs, and gufhing tear-,
Such tender ibrrow in thy heart I read,
As (hall fupply all flcill, if not exceed.
Then leave this common form of dumb ditfrefs,
Each vulgar grief can fighs and tears exprefs ;
In fweet complaining notes thy paffion vent,
And not ia fighs, but word? explaining fighs, larrrnT.
ALEXIS.
Wild be my words, Menalcas, wild my thought,
Artlafs as Nature's notr-s in birds untaught :
BouniJefs
384. BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Boundlefs my verfe, and roving be my {trains,
Various as flow'rs on unfrequented plains.
And thou, Thalia ! darling of my breaft,
By whom infpir'd, I fung at Comus' feall,
While in a ring the jolly rural throng
Have fate and fmil'd to hear my chearful fong,
Be gone, with all thy mirth and fprightly lays !
My pipe no longer now thy pow'r obeys :
Learn to lament, my Mufe ! to weep and mourn,
Thy fpringing laurels all to cyprefs turn ;
Wound with thy difmal cries the tender air,
And beat thy fnowy breaft and rend thy yellow hair :
Far hence, in utmoft wilds, thy dwelling chufe ;
Be gone, Thalia ! Sorrow is my mufe.
' I mourn Paftora dead ; let Albion mourn,
And fable clouds her chalky cliffs adorn.'
No more thefe woods {hall with her fight be blefs'd,
Nor with her feet thefe flow'ry plains be prefs'd ;
No more the winds mall with her trefies play,
And from her balmy breath fteal fweets away ;
No more thefe rivers chearfully mall pafs,
Pleas'd to reflect the beauties of her face,
While on their banks the wond'ring flocks have flood,
Greedy of fight, and negligent of food.
No more the nymphs ihall with foft tales delight
Her ears, no more with dances pleafe her fight ;
Nor ever more fhall fwain make fong of mirth,
To blefs the joyous day that gave her birth:
Loft is that day, which had from her it's light, ^ r ^^
For ever loft with her in endlefs night ;
In endlefs night, and arms of Death, me lies;
Death in eternal {hades has Ihut Paftora's eyes.
Lament, ye nymphs ! and mourn, ye wretched fwairis I
Stray, all ye flocks ! and defart be, ye plains I
Sigh, all ye winds ! and weep, ye cryftal floods !
Fade, all ye flow'rs I and wither, all ye woods !
* I mourn
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 385
r I mourn Paftora dead ; let Albion mourn,
" And fable clouds her chalky cliffs adorn.'
Within a difmal grot, which damps furround,
All cold flie lies upon th' unwholefome ground ;
The marble weeps, and with a filent pace
It's trickling tears diftil upon her face.
Falfely ye weep, ye rocks', and falfely mourn,
For never will you let the nymph return ;
With a feign'd grief the falthlefs tomb relents.
And, like the Crocodile, it's prey laments.
O me was heav'nly fair in face and mind !
Never in nature were fuch beauties join'd :
Without all mining, and within all white ;
Pure to th6 fenfe, and pleafmg to the fight ;
Like fome rare flow'r, whofe leaves all colours yield,
And opening is with fweeteft odours fill'd.
As lofty pines o'ertop the lowly reed,
So did her graceful height all nymphs exceed ;
To which excelling height (he bore a mind,
Humble as ofiers bending to the wind.
Thus excellent (he was
Ah, wretched fate ! fhe was, but is no more.
Help me, ye hills and vallies, to deplore !
* I mourn Paftora dead ; let Albion mourn,
* And fable clouds her chalky cliffs adorn.*
From that blefs'd earth on which her body lies,
May blooming flow'rs with fragrant fwcets arife !
Let myrrha, weeping aromatick gum,
And ever-living laurel, made her tomb !
Thither let all th' induftrious bees repair,
Unlade their thighs, and leave their honey there !
Thither let fairies with their train refort,
Negleft their revels and their midnight fport ;
There in unufual waitings wafte the night,
And watch her by the fiery glow-worm's light!
3 C There
3 36 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
There may no difmal yew nor cyprefs grow,
Nor holly-bam, nor bitter elder's bough ;
Let each unlucky bird far build his neft,
And diftant dens receive each howling beaft:
Let wolves be gone, be ravens put to flight,
With hooting owls, and bats, that hate the light !
But let the lighing doves their forrows bring,
And nightingales in fw^et complainings fmg ;
Let fwans from their fqrfaken rivers fly,
And, fick'ning at her tomb, make hafte to die,
That they may help to .ling her elegy :
Let Echo, too, in mimick moan deplore,
And cry with me, Paftpra is no more !
' I mourn Paftora dead. ; let Albion mourn,
' And fable clouds her chalky diffs adorn.'
And fee, the heav'ns to weep in dew prepare,
And heavy mifts obfcure the burden'd air ;
A fudden damp o'er all the plain is fpread,
Each lily folds it's, leaves, and hangs it's head j
On ev'ry tree the blofibms turn to tears,
And ev'ry bough a weeping moifture bears ;
Their wings the feather'd airy people droop,
And flocks beneath their dewy fleeces ftoop.
The rocks are cleft, and new-defcending rills
Furrow the brows of all th' impending hills ;
The water-gods to floods their riv'lets turn,
. And each with ftreaming eyes fupplies his wanting urn.
The Fauns forfake the woods, the Nymphs the grove.
And round the plain in fad diilra&ions rove ;
In prickly brakes their tender limbs they tear,
And leave on thorns their locks of golden hair.
With their (harp nails themfelves the Satyrs wound,
And tug their ftiaggy beards, and bite with grief the ground.
Lo, Pan himfelf, beneath a blafted oak
Deje&ed lies, his pipe in pieces broke :
See
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 387
See Pales weeping, too, in wild defpair,
And to the piercing winds her bofom bare.
And fee yon fading myrtle, where appears
The Queen of Love, all bath'd in flowing tears ;
See how me wrings her hands, and beats her breaft,
And tears her ufelefs- girdle from her waift !
Hear the fad murmurs of her fighing doves ;
For grief they figh, forgetful of their loves !
Lo, Love himfelf, with heavy woes opprefs'd !
See how his forrowt fwell his tender bread !
His bow he breaks, and wide his arrows flings,
And folds his little arms, and hangs his drooping wiugs ;
Then lays his limbs upon the dying grafs,
And all with tears bedews his beauteous face:
With tears, which from his folded lids arife ;
And even Love himfelf has weeping eyes.
All nature mourns ; the floods and rocks deplore,
And cry with me, Paflrora is no more !
' I mourn Paftora dead; let Albion moqrn,
' And fable clouds her chalky cliffs adorn.'
The rocks can melt, and air in mifls cafc mqurn.
And floods can weep, and winds to fighs cart turn ;
The birds in fongs their forrows can difclofe,
And nymphs and fwains in words can tell their woes :
But, oh ! behold that deep and wild defpair
Which neither winds can mow, nor floods, nor air. .
See the great Shepherd, chief of all the,fwains.
Lord of thefe woods and wide-extended plains,
Stretch'd on the ground, and clofe to earth his face,
Scalding with tears th* already faded grafs j
To the cold clay he joins his throbbing bread.
No more within Paftora's arms to reft !
No more ! for thofe once foft and circling arm*
Themfelves are clay, and cold are all her charms :
Cold are thofe lips, which he no more muft kifs,
And cold that bofom, once all downy blifs ;
3 C a On
388 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
On whofe foft pillows, lull'd in fweet delights,
He us'd in balmy fleep to lofe the nights.
Ah ! where is all that love and fondnefs fled i
Ah ! where is all that tender fweetnefs laid i
To duft muft all that heav'n of beauty come !
And muft Paftora moulder in the tomb!
Ah, Death ! more fierce and unrelenting far
Than wildeft wolves or favage tigers are ;
With lambs and fheep their hungers are appeas'd.
But rav'nous Death the Shepherdefs has feiz'd.
* I mourn Paflora dead ; let Albion mourn,
' And fable clouds her chalky cliffs adorn.*
But fee, Menalcas, where a fudden light
With wonder ftops my fong and ftrikes my fight !
And where Paftora lies it fpreads around,
Shewing all radiant bright the facred ground ;
While from her tomb behold a flame afcends
Of whiteft fire, whofe flight to heav'n extends !
On flaky wings it mounts, and quick as fight,
Cuts thro' the yielding air with rays of light ;
Till the blue firmament at laft it gains,
And fixing there, a glorious ftar remains :
' Fairefl it fhines of all that light the fkies,
* AS once on earth were feen Paftora's eyes.'
A FAIRY TALE.
IN THE ANCIENT ENGLISH STYLE.
BY DR. PARNLLL.
I
N Britain's ifle, and Arthur's days,
When midn !:t fairies daunc'd the maze,
Liv'a x-dwin of the green }
Fdwio
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 3 S
Edwin, I wis, a gentle youth,
Endow'd with courage, fenfe and truth.
Though badly fhap'd he'd been.
His mountain back mote well be faid,
To meafure height again ft his head.
And lift itfelf above ;
Yet, fpite of all that Nature did
TO make his uncouth form forbid,
This creature dar'd to love.
He felt the charms of Edith's eyes,
Nor wanted hope to gain the prize,
Could ladies look within :
Jut one Sir Topaz drefs'd with artj
And if a fhape could win a heart,
He had a ihape to win.
Edwin, if right I read my fong,
With flighted paflion pac'd along,
All in the moony light ;
3 Twas near an old enchanted court,
Where fportive fairies made refort
To revel out the night.
His heart was drear, his hope was crofs'd,
'Twas late, 'twas far, the path was loft
That reach'd the neighbour- town ;
With weary fteps he quits the (hades,
Refolv'd the darkling dome he treads.
And drops his limbs adown.
But fcant he lays him on the floor,
When hollow winds remove the door,
And trembling rock* the ground :
And
BEAUTIES, OF POETRY.
And well I ween, to count aright,
At once a hundred tapers light
On all the walls around.
Now founding tongues aflail his ear;
N;ow founding feet approachen near;
And now the founds increafe ;
And from the corner where he lay,
tie fees a train profufely gay
Come prankling o'er the place.
But (truft me. Gentles !) never yet
Was dight a mafquing half fo neat,
Or half fo rich before ;
The country lent the fweet perfumes,
The fea the pearl, the fky the plumes.
The town it's filken ftore.
Now whilft he gaz'd, a .gallant drefs'd
In flaunting robes above the reft,
With awful accent cry'd ;
' What mortal of a wretched mind,
* Whofe fighs infeft the balmy wind,
' Has here prefum'xl to hide ?.'
At this the fwain, whofe venturous foul
No fears of magick art controul, .
Advanc'd in open fight ;
* Nor have I caufe of dreed,' he faid,
* Who view, by no preemption led,
' Your revels of the night.
* 'Twas grief, for fcorn of faithful love,
* Which made my rteps unweeting rove
* Amid the nightly dew.'
'Tis
BEAUTIESOF POETRY. 391.
'Tis well,' the gallant cries again ;
' We fairies never injure men
' Who dare to tell us true.
Exalt thy love-deje&ed heart, -
1 Be mine the taflc, or ere we part,
' To make thee grief refign :
* Now take the pleafure of thy chaunce ;
' Whilft I with Mab, my partner, daunce,
' Be little Mable thine.'
He fpoke, and all a fudden there
Light mufick floats in wanton air ;
The monarch leads the queen :
The reft their fairy partners found ;
And Mable trimly tript the ground
With Edwin of the
The dauncing paft, the board was Lu4
And fiker fuch a feaft was made,
As heart and lip defire ;
Withouten hands the difhej fly,
The glafles with a wim come nigh,
And with a wiih retire.
But now, to pleafe the fairy king,
Full every deal they laugh and fing,
And antick feats devife ;
Some wind and tumble like an ape,
And other fome tranfmute their fhape
In Edwin's wondering eyes.
Till one at laft, that Robin hight,
Renown 'd for pinching maids by night,
Has bent him up aloof;
BEAUTIES OF POETRY
And full againft the beam he flung-,
Where by the back the youth he hung,
To fpraul unneath the roof.
From thence, * Reverfe my charm,* he crie?,
* And let it fairly now fuffice
' The gambol has been fhdwn.*
But Oberon anfwers with a fmile,
* Content thee, Edwin, for a while,
* The 'vantage is thine own.*
Here ended ail the phantom-play ;
They fmeh the frelh approach of day,
And heard a cock to crow :
The whirling wind that bore the crowd
Has clapp'd the door, arid whittled loud,
To warn them all to go.
Then fcreaming all at once they fly,
And all at once the tapers die ;
Poor Edwin falls to floor :
Forlorn his Hate, and dark the place;
Was never wight in fuch a cafe
Through all the land before*
But fbon as Dan Apollo role,
Full jolly creature home he goes,
He feels his back the lefs ;
His honeft tongue and fteady mind
Had rid him of the lump behind,
Which made him want fuccefs-
With lufty livelyhed he talks;
He feems a dauncirig as he walks:
His ftory foon took wind;
And
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 393
And beauteous Edith fees the youth
Endow'd with courage, fenfe and truth.
Without a bunch behind.
The ftory told, Sir Topaz mov'd,
The youth of Edith erft approv'd.
To fee the revel fcene :
At clofe of eve he leaves his home,
And wends to find the ruin'd dome
All on the gloomy plain.
As there he bides, it fo befel,
The wind came ruftling down a dell,
A making feiz'd the wall ;
Up Spring the tapers as before,
The fairies bragly foot the floor,
And mufick fills the hall.
But certes, forely funk with woe,
Sir Topaz fees the eMn mow,
His fpirits in him die :
When Oberon crys, ' A man is near !
* A mortal paflion, cleeped fear,
' Hangs flagging in the flcy.*
With that Sir Topaz, haplefs youth !
In accents faultering, ay for ruth,
Intreats them pity graunt ;
For als he been a mifter wight,
Betray'd by wandering in the night
To tread the circled haunt.
Ah, lofel vile !' at once they roar ;
' And little fltill'd of fairie lore ;
Thy caufe to come we know :
3 D Now
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
1 Now has thy'keftrell courage fell;
' And fairies, fmce a lye you tell,
' Are free to work thee woe.'
Then Will, who bears the \vifpy fire
To trail the fwains among the mire,
The caitiff upward flung ;
There, like a tortoife in a (hop,
He dangled from the chamber-top,
Where whilome Edwin hung.
The revel now proceeds apace,
Deftly they frifk it o'er the place,
They fit, they drink, and eat ;
The time with frolick mirth beguile,
And poor Sir Topaz hangs the while
Till all the rout retreat.
By this the ftars began to wink;
They fhriek, they fly, the tapers fink.
And down ydrops the knight :
For never fpell by fairie laid
With ftrong enchantment bound a glade
Beyond the length of night.
Chill, dark, alone, adreed, he lay ;
Till up the welkin rofe the day.
Then deem'd the dole was o'er:
But wot ye well his harder lot !
His feely back the bunch had got
Which Edwin loft afore!
This tale a Sybil-nurfe ared:
She foftly ftroak'd my youngling head,
And when the tale was done,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY, 39J
Thus fome are born, my fon,' fhe cries,
With bafe impediments to rife,
* And fome are born with none.
' But virtue can itfelf advance
' To what the favourite fools of chance
' By fortune fcem defigu'd ;
' Virtue can gain the odds of fate,
* And from itfelf fhake off the weight
' Upon th* unworthy mind.'
THE FABLE OF JQTHAM.
TO THE BOROUGH-HUNTERS.
BY RICHARD OWEN CAMBRIDGE, ESQ._
Jotham's fable of the trees is the oldeft that is extant, and as beautiful as
any which have been made fince that time.
ADDISO^.
JUDGES, CHA?. IX.
OL D Plumb, who though blefs'd in his Kentifh retreat,
Still thrives by his oilfhop in Leacjenhall Street,
With a Portugal merchant, a knight by creation,
.from a borough in Cornwall receiv'd invitation.
Well afTur'd of each vote, well equip'd from the AJley,
In quefl of eleftion-adventures they fally.
Tho' much they difcours'd, the long way to beguile,
Of the earthquakes, the Jews, and the change of the ftyle,
Of the Irifh, the flocks, and the lott'ry committee,
They came filent and tir'd into Exeter city.
Some books, pr'ythee, landlord, to pafs a dull hour !
' No nonfenfe of parfons, or methodifts four ;
* No poetical fluff, a damn'd jingle of rhymes,
'But fome pamphlet that's new, and a touch on the times.'
3 D 2 O Lord,. 1
39 6 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
' O Lord !' fays mine holt, ' you may hunt the town rotmd,
' I queftion if any fuch thing can be found ;
* I never was aflc'd for a book by a gueft ;
' And I'm fure I have all the great folk in the Weft.
' None of thefe, to my knowledge, e'er call'd for a book.
But fee, Sir, the woman with fifh, and the cook !
* Here's the fatteft of carp ; fhall we drefs you a brace ?
* Would you have any foals, or a mullet or plaice ?'
' A place,' quoth the knight, ' we muft have, to be fure,
* But firft let us fee that our borough's fecure.
We'll talk of the plate when we've fettled the poll ;
* \ hey may drefs us for fupper the mullet and foal.
But do you, my good landlord, look over your fhelves,
' For a book we muft have, we're fo tir'd of ourfdves.'
' In troth, Sir, I ne'er had a book in my life,
But the prayer-book and bible I bought for my wife.'
' Well ! the bible muft do : but why don't you take in
* Some monthly collection the new Magazine ?'
The bible was brought, and laid out on the table,
And open'd at Jotham's moft appofite fable.
Sir Freeport 1 e t an with this verfe, tho' no rhyme
' The trees of the foreft went forth on a time,'
(To what purpofe our candidates fcarce could expeft,
For it was not, they found, to tranfplant but ELECT ;)
' To the ^live and fig-tree their deputies came,
' But by both were refus'd, and their aufwer the fame :
* Quoth the olive, " Shall I leave my fatnefs and oil
* For an unthankful office, a Jignify'd toil ;"
" Shall I leav, ' quoth the fig-tree, " my fweetnefs and fruit,
' T j be envy'd or flav'd in fo vain a purfuit !"
* Thus reburr ~d and furpriz'd they apply to the vine :
He anfwer d, - f S lull I leave my grapes and my wine,
" (Wine, the fevertign cordial of god and of man !)
" To be m-iie or th?. tool or the head of a clan 2"
* At laft, as it a : w.'/s falls out in a fcramble,
' The muu ^-ve tne cry for ' A bramble ! a bramble. !
" A bramble
BEAUTIES OF POETRY 397
' A bramble for ever !" O chance unexpected !
* But bramble prevail'd, and was duly elefted.'
' O ! ho !' quoth the knight, with a look moft profound,
' Now I fee there's fome good in good books to be found.
' I wifh I had read this fame bible before ;
Of long miles, at the leaft, 'twould have fav'd us fourfcore.
* You, Plumb, with your olives and oil might have ftaid,
' And myfelf might have tarry'd my wines to unlade.
' What have merchants to do from their bufmefs to ramble !
* Your ele&ioneer-errant mould ftill be a bramble."
Thus ended at once the wife comment on Jothum,
And our citizens jaunt to the borough of Gotham.
THE TRANSFORMATION OF LYCON
AND EUPHORMIUS.
BY WILLIAM MELMOTH, E S Q^
DEEM not, ye plaintive crew, that fuffer wrong,
Ne thou, O man ! who deal'ft the tort, mifwcen
The equal gods, who Heaven's fky-manfions throng,
(Though viewlefs to the eyne they diftant ftiecn)
Spectators recklefs of our aftious been.
Turning the volumes of grave fages old,
Where auncient faws in fable may be feen,
This truth I fond in paynim tale enroll'd ;
Which for enfample drad, my mufe mail here unfold.
What time Arcadia's flow'ret vallies fam'd,.
Pelafgus, firft of monarchs old, obey'd ;
There wonn'd a wight, and Lycon was he nam'd,
Unaw'd by conference, of no gods afraid,
39$ BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Ne juftice ruPd his heart, ne mercy fway'd.
Some held him kin to that abhorred race,
Which heaven's high towers with mad emprize aflay'd ;
And fome his cruel lynage did ytrace
From fell Erynnis join'd in Pluto's dire embrace.
But he, perdy, far other tale did feign,
And claim'd alliaunce with the Sillers nine ;
.And deem'd himfelf (what deems not pride fo vain ')
The peeriefs paragon of wit divine:
Vaunting that every foe mould rue it's tine.
Right dougMy wight ! yet, footh, withouten fmart,
All powerlefs fell the lofel's fhafts malign :
*Tis Virtue's arm to wield Wit's heavenly dart,
Point it's keen barb with force, and fend it to the heart.
One only impe he had, Paftora night,
Whofe fweet amenaunce pleas'd each fhepherd's eye :
Yet pleas'd fhe not bafe Lycon's evil fprite,
Tho' blame in her not Malice moten fpy,
Clear, without fpot, as fummer's doudlefs fky.
Hence poets feign'd, ' Lycean Pan array'd
* In Lycon's form, enflant'd with paffion high,
* Deceiv'd her mother in the covert glade,
' And from the ftoPn embrace yfprong the heavenly maid:'
Thus fabling they. Meanwhile, the damfel fair
A fhepherd youth remark'd, as o'er the plain
She deffly pac'd along fo debonair ;
Seem'd fhe as one of Dian's chofen train.
Full many a fond excufe he knew to feign,
In fweet canverfe to while with her the day,
Till love unwares his heedlefs heart did gain.
Nor dempt he, firnple wight, no mortal may
The blinded god, once harbour'd, when he lift, forefay.
Now
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 399
Now much he meditates if yet to fpeak,
And now refolves his paflion to conceal :
* But Cure/ quoih he, ' my feely heart will break,
* If aye I fmother what I aye muft feel !'
At length, by hope embolden'd to reveal,
The labouring fecret dropped from his tong.
Whiles frequent fmgults check'd his falt'ring tale,
In modeft wife her head Paftora hong :
For never maid more chafte infpired fhepherd's fong.
Wkat needs me to recount, in long detail,
The tender parley which thefe lemans held?
How oft he vow'd his love her ne'er mould fail ;
How oft the ftream from forth her eyne outwell'd,
Doubting if conftancy yet ever dwell'd
In heart of youthful wight. Suffice to know,
Each rifing doubt he in her bofom quell'd.
So parted they, more blithfome both, I trow :
For rankling love conceal'd, me feems, is deadly woe.
Eftfoons to Lycon fwift the youth did fare,
(Lagg'd ever youth when Cupid urg'd his way?)
And ftraight his gentle purpofe did declare,
And footh the mount'naunce of his herds difplay;
Ne Lycon meant his fuiten to fbrefay :
' Be thine, Paftora,' quoth the mafker fly,
And twice two thoufand fheep her dower ftiall pay.'
Beat then the lover's heart with joyaunce high ;
Ne dempt that aught his blifs could now betray,
Ne guefs'd that foul deceit in Lycon's bofome lay.
So forth he yode to feck his reverend fire ;
(The good Euphormius, fhepherds him did call)
How fweet Paftora did Xis bofome fire !
Her worth, her promis'd flocks, he tolien all.
< Ah!
4 o9 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
' Ah ! nere, my fon, let Lycon thee enthrall,'
Reply'd the fage, in wife experience old ;
* Smooth is his tongue, but full of guile withal*
c In promife faithlefs, and in vaunting bold :
' Ne ever lamb of his will bleat within thy fold.*
With words prophetick thus Euphormius fpake :
And fadl confirm'd what wifdom thus foretokh
Full many a mean devife did Lycon make,
The hoped day of fpoufal to with-hold,
Framing new trains when nought mote ferve his old.
Nath'lefs he vow'd, Cyllene cloud-topt hill
Should fooner down the lowly delve be roll'd,
Than he his plighted promife nould fulfil :
But when, perdy, or where, the caitive fayen nill.
Whiles thus the tedious funs had journey'd round,
Ne ought mote now the lovers hearts divide,
Ne truft was there, ne truth in Lycon found ;
The maid with matron Juno for her guide,
The youth by Concord led, in fecret hy'd
To Hymen's facred fane : the honeft deed
Each god approv'd, and clofe the bands were ty'd;
Certes, till happier moments mould fucceed,
No prying eyne they weenM their emprize mote areed.
But prying eyne of Lycon 'twas in vain
(Right pradtick in difguife) to hope beware*
He trac'd their covert fteps to Hymen's fane,
And joy'd to find them in his long-laid fnare.
Algates, in femblaunt ire, he 'gan to Iwear,
And roaren loud as in difpleafaunce high ;
Then out he hurlen forth his daughter fair,
Forelore, the houfelefs child of Miiery,
Expos'd to killing cold, and pinching penury.
Ah!
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 4 ci
Ah ! whither now fhall fad Pafbra wend,
To want abandon'd and by wrongs opprefs'd ?
Who fhall the, wretched out-cafl's teen befriend ?
Lives Mercy then, if not in parent's breaft ?
Yes, Mercy lives, the gentle goddefs blefs'd,
At Jove's right-hand, to Jove for ever dear ;
Aye at his feet fhe pleads the caufe diflrefs'd,
To forrow's plaints fhe turns his equal ear,
\iid wafts to heaven's flar-throne fair Virtue's filent tear.
'Twas SHE that bade Euphorrhius quell each thought,
That well mote rife to check his generous aid :
Tho' high the torts which Lycon him had wrought,
Tho' few the flocks his humble paftures fed,
When as he learn'd Paftora's haplefs iled,
His breaft humane with wonted pity flows ;
He op'd his gates, the naked exile led
Beneath his roof, a decent drapet throws
O'er her cold limbs, and foothes her undeferved \vues.
Now loud-tongu'd Rumor bruited round the tale ;
Th' aftonied fwains uneath could credence give,
That in Arcadia's unambitious vale
A faytor falfe as Lycon e'er did live :
But Jove (who in high heaven does mortals prive,
And every deed in golden ballance weighs)
To earth his flaming charfet baden drive,
And down defcends, enwrapt in peerlefs blaze,
To deal forth guerdon meet to good and evil ways.
Where Eurymanthus, crowh'd with many a wood,
His filver ftream through daify'd vales does lead,
Stretch'd on the flowery marge, in rccklefs^mood,
Proud Lycon fought by charm of jocund Vccd
t BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
To lull the dire remorfe of tortious deed ;
Him Jove accofts, in reverend femblaunce dight
Of good Euphormius, and 'gan mild areed
Of compaft oft confirm'd, of fay yplight,
Of nature's tender tye, of facred rule of right.
With lofty eyne, half loth to look fo low,
Him Lycon view'd, and with fwol'n furquedry
'Gan rudely treat his facred eld ; when now
Forth flood the God confefs'd that rules the fky,
In fudden fheen of drad divinity :
And ' Know, falfe man,' the lord of thunders faid,
* Not unobferv'd by Heaven's all-perfent eye
' Thy cruel deeds ; nor mall be unappay'd.
Go ! be in form that belt befeems thy thews, array'd.'
Whiles yet he fpake th' affrayed trembling wight
Tranfmew'd to blatant beaft, with hideous howl
Rufh'd headlong forth, in well-deferved plight,
'Midft dragons, minotaurs, and fiends, to prowl ;
A wolf in form, as erft a wolf in foul !
To Pholoe, foreft wild, he hy'd away,
The horrid haunt of favage monfters foul :
There helplefs innocence is fUll his prey,
Thief of the bleating fold, and fhepherd's dire difmay.
Tho' Jove to good Euphormius' cot did wend,
. Where peaceful dwelt the man of virtue high,
Each fhepherd's praife, and eke each fhepherd's friend,
In every aft of fweet humanity ;
Him Jove approaching in mild majefly,
Greeted all hail ! then bade him join the throng
Of glitt'rand lights that gild the glowing fky :
There fhepherd's nightly view his orb yhong,
Where bright he fhines eterne, the brighteft flars emong.
LOVE
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 403
LOVE ELEGIES.
BY MR. HAMMOND.
ELEGY I.
T^ A R E W E L that liberty our fathers gave ;
-i/ In vain they gave, their fons receiv'd in vaiu !
I faw Nesera; and, her inftant flave,
Tho' born a Briton, hugg'd the fervile chain.
Her ufage well repays my coward heart !
Meanly fhe triumphs in her lover's fliame }
No healing joy relieves his conflant fmart,
No fmile of love rewards the lofs of fame.
Oh! that, to feel thefe killing pangs no more,
On Scythian hills I lay, a fenfelefs ftone !
Was fix'd a rock amidft the wat'ry roar,
And in the vaft Atlantick flood alone !
Adieu, ye Mufes -or my pafllon aid ;
Why mould I loiter by your idle fpring?
My humble voice would move one only maid,
And fhe contemns the trifles which I fmg !
I do not afk the lofty Epick ftrain.
Nor ftrive to paint the wonders of the fphere:
I only (ing one cruel maid to gain
Adieu, ye Mufes, if fhe will ot hear!
No more in ufelefs innocence I'll pine :
Since guilty prefents win the greedy fair,
I'll tear it's honours from the broken fhrine j^
But chiefly thine, O Venus, will I tear.
3 E 2 Dcceiv'd
404 BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
Deceiv'd by thee, I lov'd a beauteous maid,
Who bends on fordid gold her low defires :
Nor worth nor paffion can her heart perfuade,
But love mail aft what avarice requires!
Unwife, who firfl (the charm of nature loft)
With Tyrian purple foil'd the fnowy fheep;
Unwifer ftill, who feas ami mountains Crofs'd,
To dig the rock, and fearch the pearly deep ',
Thefe coftly toys our f:lly fair furprize;
The mining follies cheat their feeble fight :
Their hearts, fecure in trifles, love defpife ;
'Tis vain to court them, but more vain to write',
Why did the gods conceal the little mind
And earthly thought beneath a heav'nly face !
Forget the worth that dignifies mankind,
Yet fmooth and polifh fo each outward grace !
Hence all the blame that Love and Venus, bear ;
Hence pleafure fhort, and anguifh ever long :
Hence tears and fighs ; and hence the peevifh fair,
The froward lover hence this angry fong.
ELEGY II.
ADIEU, ye walls, that guard my cruel fair 1
No more I'll fit in rcfy fetters bound :
My limbs have learn'd the weight of arms to bear,
My rouzing fpirits feel the trumpet's found.
Few are the maids that now on merit fmile,
On fpoil and war is bent this iron age ;
Yet pain and Jcith attend on war and fpoil,
Unfated vengeance and remorfelefs rage.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 4 oj
"To purchafe fpoil, e'en Love itfelf is fold ;
Her lover's heart is leaft Neajra's care :
And I thro' war muft feek detefted gold,
Not for myfelf, but for my venal fair;
That while (he bends beneath the weight of drefs,
The ftiffen'd robe may fpoil her eafy mien ;
And art, miftaken, make her beauty lefs,
While ftill it hides fome graces better feen !
But if fuch toys can win her lovely fmile,
Her's be the wealth of Tagus' golden fand ;
Her's the bright gems that glow in India's foil,
Her's the black fons of Africk's fultry land!
To pleafe her eye, let every loom contend;
For her be rifled Ocean's pearly bed ! .
But where, alas ! would idle Fancy tend,
And foothe with dreams a youthful poet's head
Let others buy the cold unloving maid,
In forc'd embraces aft the tyrant's part;
While I their felfifh luxury upbraid,
And fcorn the perfon, where I doubt the heart!
Thus warm'd by Pride, I think I love no more,
And hide in threats the weaknefs of my mind:
l\\ vain tho' Reafon fly the hated door,
Yet Love, the coward Love, ftill lags behind.
ELEGY III.
OH O UL D Jove defcend in floods of liquid ore,
And golden torrents ftream from every part,
That craving bofom ftill would heave for more ;
'JStot all the god could fatisfy thy hc.irt.
Bat
406 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
.But may thy folly, which can thus difdain
My honeft love, the mighty wrong repay ;
May midnight fire involve thy fordid gain,
And on the mining heaps of rapine prey !
May all the youths, like me, by love deceiv'd,
Not quench the ruin, but applaud the doom;
And, when thou dy'ft, may not one heart be griev'd,
May not one tear bedew thy lonely tomb !
But the deferving, tender, generous maid,
Whofe only care is her poor lover's mind ;
Tho' ruthlefs age may bid her beauty fade,
In every friend to love, a friend fhall find!
And when the lamp of life will burn no more,
When dead me feems as in a gentle fleep;
The pitying neighbour fhall her lofs deplore,
And round the bier aflembled lovers weep !
With flow'rj garlands, each revolving year
Shall ftrew the grave where truth and foftnefs reft;
Then home returning drop the pious tear,
And bid the turf lie eafy on her breaft.
ELEGY IV.
TX J HI L E calm you fit beneath your fecret made,
And lofe in pleafing thought the fummer dayj
Or tempt the wifn of fome unpraftis'd maid,
Whofe heart at once inclines and fears to ftray:
The fprightly vigour of my youth is fled;
Lonely and fick, on death is all my thought.
Oh, fpare, Perfephone *, this guiltlefs head !
Love, too much love, is all thy fuppliant's fault.
* "The goddefs of Death.
No
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 407
No virgin's eafy faith I e'er betray'd,
My tongue ne'er boafted of a feign'd embrace ;
No poifons in the cup have I convey'd,
Nor veil'd deftruclion with a friendly face.
No fecret horrors gnaw this quiet breaft,
This pious hand ne'er robb'd the facred fane;
I ne'er difturb'd the God's eternal reft
With curfes loud, but oft have pray'd in vain.
No Health of time has thinn'd my flowing hair,
Nor age yet bent me with his iron hand :
Ah ! why fo foon the tender bloflbm tear,
Ere Autumn yet the ripeu'd fruit demand!
Ye gods ! whoe'er, in gloomy fhades below,
Now (lowly tread your melancholy round,
Now wand'ring, view the baleful rivers flow.
And mufing, hearken to their folemn found :
Oh, let me (till enjoy the chearful day,
Till many years unheeded o'er me roll'd,
Pleas'd in my age, I trifle life away,
And tell how much we lov'd, ere I grew old!
But you, who now with feftive garlands crown'd.
In chace of pleafure the gay moments fpend;
By quick enjoyment heal Love's pleafing wound,
Aad grieve for nothing, but your abfent
ELEGY V.
VT7ITH wine, more wine, deceive thy matter's care,
* * Till creeping flumber foothe his troubled breaft;
Let not a whifper ftir the filcnt air,
If haplefs Love a while confent to reft.
Untoward
3 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Untoward guards befet my Cynthia's doors,
And cruel locks th' imprifon'd fair conceal :
May lightnings blaft whom Love in vain implores,
And Jove's own thunder rive thofe bolts of fteel !
Ah, gentle door, attend my humble call,
Nor let thy founding hing-e our thefts betray ;
So all my curfes far from thee mall fall!
We angry lovers mean not half we fay.
Remember now the flow'ry wreaths I gave,
When firft I told thee of my bold defires :
Nor thou, O Cynthia, fear the watchful {lave;
Venus will favour what herfelf infpires.
She guides the youths who fee not where they tread j
She mews the virgin how to turn the door,
Softly to fteal from off her filent bed,
And not a ftep betray her on the floor,
The fearlefs lover wants no beam of light,
The robber knows himj nor obftru&s his way j
Sacred he wanders thro' the pathlefs night,
Belongs to Venus, and can never ftray.
I fcbrn the chilling wind, and beating rain, .
Nor heed cold watchings on the dewy groundi
If all the hardfhips I for Love fuftain,
With Love's victorious joys at laft be crowh'd:
With fudden ftep let none our blifs furprize,
Or check the freedom of fecure delight !
Ram man beware, and (hut thy curious eyes,
Left angry Venus fnatch their guilty fight !
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 409
Bet fhould'ft thou fee, th' important fecret hide,
Tho' queftion'd by the powers of earth and heav'n;
The prating tongue (hall Love's revenge abide,
Still fue for grace, and never be forgiv'n.
A wizard dame, thy lover's ancient friend,
With magick charm has deaPd thy hufband's ear ;
At her command I faw the ftars defcend,
And winged lightnings flop ia mid career.
I faw her ftamp, and cleave the folid ground,
While ghaftly fpeclres round us wildly roam ;
I faw them hearken to her potent found,
Till fcar'd at day they fought their dreary home.
At her command the vig'rous fummer pines,
And wint'ry clouds obfcure the hopeful year ;
At her ftrong bidding, gloomy winter mines,
And vernal rofes on the fnows appear.
She gave thefe charms which I on thee beflow;
They dim the eye, and dull the jealous mind:
For me they make an hufband nothing know;
For me, and only me, they make him blind.
But what did mod this faithful heart furprize,
She boafted that her fkill could fet it free :
This faithful heart the boafted freedom flies ;
How could it venture to abandon thee !
ELEGY VI.
HP HOUSANDS would feek the lafting peace of Death,
* And in that harbour fhun the florin of care :
Officious Hope ftill holds the fleeting breath;
She tells them ftill to-morrow will be fair.
3 F She
4 id BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
She tells me, Delia, I fhall thee obtain:
But can I liften to her fyren fong,
Who fev'n flow months have dragg'd my painful chain,
So long thy lover, and defpis'd fo long ?
By all the joys thy deareft Celia gave,
Let not her once-lov'd friend unpity'd burn :
So may her afhes find a peaceful grave,
And fleep uninj ur'd in their facred urn.
To her I firil avow'd my tim'rous flame,
She nurs'd my hopes, and taught me how to fue$
She ftill wou'd pity what the wife might blame,
And feel for weaknefs which me never knew.
Ah, do not grieve the dear lamented ftiade,
That hov'ring round us all my fufPrings hears ;
She is my faint to her my pray'rs are made,
With oft repeated gifts of flow'rs and tears.
To her fad tomb at midnight I retire,
And lonely fitting by the filent ftone,
I tell it all the griefs my wrongs infpire;
The marble image feems to hear my moan*
Thy friend's pale ghoft fhall vex thy fleeplefs bed.
And {land before thee all in virgin white ;
That ruthlefs bofom will difturb the dead,
And call forth pity from eternal night.
' Ceafe, cruel man, the mournful theme forbear,
Tho' much thou fuffer, to thyfelf complain ;
' Ah! to recall the fad remembrance fpare,
' One tear from her, is more than all thy pain !*
ELEGY
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 4 ,,
ELEGY VIL
O W Delia breathes in woods the fragrant air,
Dull are the hearts that ftill in town remain;
Venus herfelf attends on Delia there,
And Cupid fports amid the fylvan train.
Oh, with what joy my Delia to behold,
I'd prefs the fpade, or wield the weighty prong ;
Guide the flow plough-fhare thro' the ftubborn mould,
And patient goad the loit'ring ox along.
The fcorching heats I'd carelefsly defpife,
Nor heed the blifter s on my tender hand :
The great Apollo wore the fame difguife,
Like me fubdu'd to Love's fupreme command.
No healing herbs cou'd foothe their matter's pain*
The art of phyfick loft and ufelefs lay;
To Pencus* ftream, and Tempe's fhady plain,
He drove his herds beneath the noon-tide ray*
Oft with a bleating lamb in either arm,
His blufhing fifter* faw him pace along;
Oft wou'd his voice the filent valley charm,
Till lowing oxten broke the tender fong.
Where are his triumphs? where his warlike toil?
Where by his darts the creited Python flain ?
Where are his Delphi ? his delightful ifle?
The god himfelf is grown a cottage fwain !
# The Goddcfs Diana.
3 F 2 O, Ceres,
4 ia BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
O, Ceres, in your golden fields no more,
With harveft's chearful pomp my fair detain !
Think what for loft Proferpma * you bore,
And in a mother's anguifh feel my paint
Our wifer fathers left their fields unfown :
Their food was acorns, love their fole employ*
They met, they lilcd, they ftaid but till alone,
And in each valley fnatch'd the honeft joy !
No wakeful guard, no doors to flop defae!
Thrice happy times! But, oh! I fondly rave:
Lead me to Delia; all her eyes infpire
I'll do I'll plough or dig as Delia's Have.
ELEGY VIII.
3\ H, what avails thy lover's pious care I
*"* His lavifli incenfe clouds the fky in vain;
Nor wealth nor greatnefs was his idle pray'r,
For thee alone he pray'd,, thee hop'd to gain I
With thee I hop'd to wafte the pleafmg day,
Till in thy arms an age of joy was paft ;
Then old with love infenfibly decay,
And on thy bofom gently breathe my lalt !
I fcorn the Lydian river's golden wave,
And all the vulgar charms of human life;
I only afk to live my Delia's flave,
And when I long have ferv'd her, call her wife :
* The daughter of Ceres, taken from her by Pluto.
I only
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 413
I only aflc, of her I love pofiefs'd,
To fink o'ercome with blifs, in fafe repofe.
To (train her yielding beauties to my bread,
And kifs her wearied eye-lids till they clof*.
Attend, O Juno, with thy fober ear;
Attend, gay Venus, parent of defire:
This one fond wifti if you refufe to hear,
Oh, let me with this figh of love expire !
ELEGY IX.
TJTE who cou'd firft two gentle hearts unbind,
And rob a lover of his weeping fair;
Hard was the man but harder, in my mind,
The lover ftill, who dy'd not of defpair.
With mean difguife let others nature hide,
And mimick virtue with the paint of art;
I fcorn the cheat of reafon's foolifh pride,
And boaft the graceful weaknefs of my heart.
The more I think, the more I feel my pain,
And learn the more each heav'nly charm to prize ;
While fools, too light for paflion, fafe remain.
And dull fenfation keeps the ftupid wife.
Sad is my day, and fad my lingering night,
When wrapt in filent grief I weep alone ;
Delia is loft, and all my pafl; delight
Is now the fource of unavailing moan !
Where is the wit that heighten'd beauty's charms?
Where is the face that fed my longing eyes?
Where is the fliape that might have blefs'd my arms?
Where all thofe hopes relcntlefs Fate denies?
When,
4 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
When, fpent with endlefs grief, I die at laft,-
Delia may come, and fee my poor remains
Oh, Delia ! after fuch an abfence part,
Canft thou ftill love, and not forget my pains ?
Wilt thou in tears thy lover's corfe attend ?
With eyes averted light the folemn pyre ;
Till all around the doleful flames afcend;
Then, flowly finking, by degrees expire ?
To foothe the hov'ring foul be thine the care,
With plaintive cries to lead the mournful band;
In fable weeds the golden vafe to bear,
And cull my alhes with thy trembling hand.
Panchaia's odours be their coftly feaft,
And all the pride of Afia's fragrant year;
Give them the treafures of the fartheft eaft,
And, what is ftill more precious, give thy tear.
Dying for thee, there is in death a pride :
Let all the world thy haplefs lover know;
No filent urn the noble paffion hide,
But deeply graven thus my fufPrings mow:
* Here lies a youth borne down with love and care,
' He cou'd not long his Delia's lofs abide ;
c Jo? left his bofom with the parting fair,
' And when he durft no longer hope, he dy'd.*
ELEGY X.
*"Tp HIS day, which faw my Delia's beauty rife,
Shall more than all our facred days be blefs'd \
The world, enamour'd of her lovely eyes,
Shall grow as good and gentle as her breaft.
By
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 415
By all our guarded fighs and hid deftres,
Oh, may our guiltlefs love be Hill the fame !
J urn, and glory in the pleafing fires,
If Delia's bofom mare the mutual flame.
Thou, happy genius of her natal hour,
Accept her incenfe, if her thoughts be kind ;
But let her court in vain thy angry power,
If all our vows are blotted from her mind :
And thou, O Venus, hear my righteous pray'r,
Or bind the fhepherdefs or loofe the fwain !
Yet rather guard them both with equal care,
And let them die together in thy chain !
What I demand perhaps her heart defires,
But virgin tears her nicer tongue reftrain;
The fecret thought, which blufliing love infpires,
The confcipus eye can full as well explain.
ELEGY XI.
HP H E man, who fharpen'd firlt the warlike fteel,
How fell and deadly was his iron heart !
He gave the wound encount'ring nations feel,
And death grew ftronger by his fatal art.
Yet not from fteel debate and battle rofe,
'Tis gold o'erturns the even fcale of life j
Nature is free to all, and none were foes,
Till partial Luxury began the ftrife,
Let fpoil and vi&ory adorn the bold,
While I inglorious neither hope nor fear;
Periili the thirfl of honour, thiril of gold,
Ere for my abfence Delia lofe a tear!
Why
4 ,6 B'EAUTIES OF POETRY.
Why fhou'd the lover quit his pleafing home,
In fearch of danger on fome foreign ground ;
Far from his weeping fair ungrateful roam,
And rifle in ev'ry ftroke a double wound ?
Ah ! better far, beneath the fpreading (hade,
With chearful friends to drain the fprightly bowlj
To fing the beauties of my darling maid,
And on the fweet idea feaft my foul !
Then, full of love, to all her charms retire,
And fold her blaming to my eager breafl ;
Till, quite o'ercome with foftnefs, with defire,
Like me fhe pants, fhe faints, and finks to refl
ELEGY XII.
O fecond love mail e'er my heart furprize ;
This folemn league did firft our paffion bind :
Thofc, only thou, canft pleafe thy lover's eyes,
Thy voice alone can foothe his troubled mind.
Oh, that thy charms were only fair to me,
Difpleafe all others, and fecnre my reft;
No need of envy let me happy be,
I little care that others know me blefs'd.
With thee in gloomy defarts let me dwell,
Where never human footftep mark'd the ground 5
Thou, light of life, all darknefs canft expel,
And feem a world, with folitude around.
I fay too muchmy heedlefs words reftore ;
My tongue undoes me in this loving hour: .
Thou know'ft thy ftrength, and thence infulting more,
Wilt make me feel the weight of all thy pow'r.
Whate'er
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 417
Whate'er I feel, thy flave I will remain,
Nor fly the burden I am form'd to bear:
In chains I'll fit me down at Venus' fane ;
She knows my wrongs, and will regard my pray'r.
ELEGY XIII.
T E T others boaft their heaps of mining gold,
And view their fields with waving plenty crown'd j
Whom neighb'ring foes in conftant terror hold,
And trumpets break their (lumbers never found.
While, calmly poor, I trifle life away;
Enjoy fweet leifure by my chearful fire :
No wanton hope my quiet fhall betrayj
But, cheaply blefs'd, I'll fcorn each vain defire.
With timely care I'll fow my little field,
And plant my orchard with it's matter's hand;
Nor blufh to fpread the hay, the hook to wield
Or range my flieaves along the funny land.
If late at duflc, while carelefsly I roam,
I meet a flrolling kid, or bleating lamb;
Under my arm I'll bring the wand'rer home,
And not a little chide it's thoughtlefs dam.
What joy to hear the tcmpeft howl in vain,
And clafp a fearful miilrefs to ray brealU
Or, lull'd to {lumber by the beating rain,
Secure and happy, fink at laft to reil !
Or if the fun in flaming Leo rule,
By mady rivers indolently ftray;
And with my Delia, walking fide by fide,
Hear how they murmur as they glide away!
3 G What
4PT BEAUTIES OF POETR'Y.
What joy to wind along the cool retreat,
To flop and gaze on Delia as I go !
To mingle fweet difcourfe with kifles fweet,
And teach my lovely fcholar all I know !
Thus pleas*d at heart, and not with Fancy's dream.
In filent happinefs I reft unknown ;
Content with what I am, not what I feem,
I live for Delia and myfelf alone.
Ah, foolifh man ! who thus of her poflefs'd,
Could float and wander with ambition's windy
And, if his outward trappings fpoke him blefs'd,
Not heed the ficknefs of his confcious mind-
With her I fcorn the idle breath of praife,
Nor truft to happinefs that's not our own :
The fmile of fortune might fufpicion raife,
But here I know that I am lov'd alone.
Stanhope, in wifdom as in wit divine,
May rife and plead Britannia's glorious caufe;
With fleady rein his eager wit confine,
While manly fenfe the deep attention draws !
Let Stanhope fpeak his lift'ning country's wrong,
My humble voice ihall pleafe one partial maid y
For her alone I pen my tender fong,
Securely fitting in his friendly mad?.
Stanhope mail come, and grace his rXiral friend 1"
Delia mall wonder at her noble gueft;
With blaming awe the riper fruit commend,
And for her hufband's patron cull the beft,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 4157
Htr's be the care of all my little train,
While I with tender indolence am blefs'd,
The fav'rite fubjeft of her gentle reign,
By love alone diftinguifh'd from the reft.
For her I'll yoke my oxen to the plow,
In gloomy forefts tend my lonely flock ;
For her, a goat-herd, climb the mountain's brow,
And fleep extended on the naked rock !
Ah ! what avails to prefs the ftately bed,
And far from her midil taflelefs grandeur weep ;
By marble fountains lay the penlive head,
And, while they murmur, ftrive in vain to fleep !
Delia alone can pleafe, and never tire,
Exceed the paint of thought in true delight ;
With her, enjoyment wakens new defire,
And equal rapture glows thro' ev'ry night !
Beauty and worth in her alike contend,
To charm the fancy and to fix the mind :
In her, my wife, my miftrefs, and my friend,
I tafle the joys of fenfe and reafon join'd.
On her I'll gaze when others' loves are o'er,
And dying, prefs her with my clay-cold hand !
Thou weep'ft already, as I were no more ;
Nor can that gentle breaft the thought withftand.
Oh, when I die, my lateft moments fpare,
Nor let thy grief with fharper torments kill !
Wound not thy cheeks, nor hurt that flowing hair ;
Tho* I am dead, my foul (hall love thee ftill !
3 Q 2 Oh,
* BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Oh, quit the room ! oh, quit the deathful bed !
Or thou wilt die fo tender is thy heart !
O leave me, Delia, ere thou fee me dead ;
Thefe weeping friends will do thy mournful part !
Let them, extended on the decent bier,
Convey the corfein melancholy Hate;
Thro' all the village fpread the tender tear,
While pitying maids our wond'rous loves relate \
ELEGY XIV.
T ~\7 HAT fcenes of blifs my raptur'd fancy fram'd,
In fome lone fpot with Peace and thee retir'd!
Tho' Reafon then my fanguine fondnefs blam'd,
I ftill believ'd what flatt'ring Love infpir'd !
But now my wrongs have taught my humbled mind,
To dangerous blifs no longer to pretend :
In books, a calm but fix'd content to find
Safe joys, that on ourfelves alone depend,
With them, the gentle moments I beguile
In learned eafe and elegant delight ;
Compare the beauties of each different ftyle,
Each various ray of wit's diffufive light :
Now mark the ftrength of Milton's facred lines,
Senfe rais'd by genius, fancy rul'd by art;
Where all the glory of the Godhead mines,
And earlieil innocence inchants the heart.
Now, fir'd by Pope and virtue, leave the age
In low purfuit of felf-undoing wrong;
And trace the author thro' his moral page,
Whofe blamelefs life ftill anfwers to his fong.
if
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
If time and books my lingering pain can heal,
And reafon fix it's empire o'er my heart ;
My patriot breaft a nobler warmth fliall feel,
And glow with love where weaknefs has no part.
Thy heart, O Lyttelton, fhall be my guide;
It's fire Jhall warm me, and it's worth improve :
Thy heart, above all envy, and all pride,
Firm as man's fenfe, and foft as woman's love.
And you, O Weft! with her your partner dear,
Whom focial mirth and ufeful fenfe commend;
With learning's feail my drooping mind (hall chear,
Glad to efcape from Love to fuch a friend.
But why fo long my weaker heart deceive !
Ah, ftill I love in Pride and Reafon's fpite '.
No books, alas ! my painful thoughts relieve j
And while I threat, this Elegy I write.
ELEGY XV.
/~\ H, form'd alike to ferve us and to pleafe ;
^^ Polite with honefty, and learn'd with eafe ;
With heart to aft, with genius to retire ;
Open, yet wife; tho' gentle, full of fire:
With thee I fcorn the low conftraint of art,
Nor fear to trull the follies of my heart !
Hear then from what my long defpair arofe,
The faithful ftory of a lover's woes.
When, in a fober melancholy hour,
Reduc'd by Sicknefs under Reafon's pow'r,
J view'd my ftate, too little weigh'd before,
And Love himfelf could flatter me no more,
My
!3 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
My Delia's hopes I would no more deceive,
But whom my paifion hurt, thro' friendfhip leave:
I chofe the cold eft words my heart to hide,
And cure her fex's weaknefs thro' it's pride.
The prudence which I taught, I ill purfu'd;
The charm my reafon broke, my heart renew'd.
Again, fubmiffive to her feet I came ;
And prov'd, too well, my paffion, by my fhame :
While me, fecure in coldnefs, or difdain,
Forgot my love, or triumph'd in it's pain;
Began with higher views her thoughts to raife,
And fcorn'd the humble poet of her praife !
She let each little lye o'er truth prevail,
And ftrengthen'd, by her faith, each groundlefs tale
Believ'd the groffeft arts that malice try'd ;
Nor once, in thought, was on her lover's fide.
Oh, where were then my fcenes of fancy'd life !
Oh, where the friend, the miftrefs, and the wife !
Her years of promis'd love were quickly paft;
Not too revolving moons could fee them laft !
To Stow's delightful fcenes I now repair,
In Cobham's fmile to lofe the gloom of care !
Nor fear that he my weaknefs mould defpife,
In nature learned, and humanely wife.
There Pit, in manners foft, in friendfhip warm,
With mild advice my lift'ning grief mall charm:
With fenfe to counfel, and with wit to pleafe ;
A Roman's virtue, with a courtier's eafe !
Nor you, my friend, whofe heart is ftill at reft,
Contemn the human weaknefs of my breaft :
Reafon may chide the faults (he cannot cure,
And pains, which long we fcorn'd, we oft endure.
Tho' wifer cares employ your ftudious mind;
Form'd with a foul fo elegantly kind,
Your breaft may lofe the calm it long has known,
And learn my woes to pity, by it's own.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY 423
THE MOUSE'S PETITION*.
FOUND IN THE TRAP WHERE HE HAD BEEN CONFINED
ALL NIGHT.
BY MISS AIKINf.
Parcere fubjeftis, & debellare fuperbos. Vl6.
OH ! hear a penfive prifoner's prayer,
For liberty that fighs ;
And never let thine heart be (hut
Againft the wretch's cries.
For here forlorn and fad I fit,
Within the wiry grate ;
And tremble at th' approaching morn,
Winch brings impending fate.
If e'er thy breaft with Freedom glow'rf,
And fpurn'd a tyrant's chain,
Let not thy ftrong o'ppreflive force
A free-born moufe detain.
Oh! do not ftain with guiltlefs blood,
Thy hofpitable hearth ;
Nor triumph that thy wiles betray'd
A prize fo little worth.
* To Doftor Prieftley.
The author is concerned fo find, that what v,-as intended as the petition- of
Mercy againft Juftice, has been conftrued :> the plea of Humanity agiiiMt Cruelty.
She is certain that cruelty could never be apprehended from the gentleman to
*'hom this is addrclfcd ; and the poor a'nimat would have lufiei-vd more a* the
icli:n vf Joinvftick economy, than of philofophicaJ curigh: ; .
f Now Mrs. Barbauld.
The
424 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
The fcatter'd gleanings of a feafl
My frugal meals fupply :
But if thine unrelenting heart
That (lender boon deny,
The chearful light, the vital air,
Are bleffings widely given ;
Let nature's commoners enjoy
The common gifts of Heaven.
The well-taught philofophick mind
To all companion gives ;
Cafts round the world an equal eye,
And feels for all that lives.
If mind, as ancient fages taught,
A never-dying flame,
Still fhifts thro' matter's varying forms,
In every form the fame:
Beware, left, in the worm you crufli,
A brother's foul you find;
And tremble, left thy lucklefs hand
Diflodge a kindred mind.
Or, if this tranflent gleam of day
Be all of life we (hare ;
Let Pity plead within thy breaft,
That little all to (pare.
So may thy hofpitable board
With health and peace be crown 'd ;
And every charm of heart-felt eafe,
Beneath thy roof be found.
to,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 425
So, when deftruftion lurks unfeen,
Which men like mice may mare ;
May fome kind angel clear thy path,
And break the hidden fnare.
THE INDIAN PHILOSOPHER.
BY DR. WATTS.
^Y mould our joys transform to pain?
Why gentle Hymen's filken chain
' A plague of iron prove ?
' Good Gods ! 'tis ftrange, the chain that binds
' Millions of hands, mould leave their minds
' At fuch a loofe from love !'
In vain I fought the wond'rous caufe ;
Search'd the wide fields of nature's laws,
And urg'd the fchools in vain :
Till deep in thought, within my breail
My foul retir'd, and fl umber drefs'd
A bright inftru&ive fcene.
O'er the wide land, and crofs the tide,
On Fancy's airy wing I ride ;
Sweet rapture of the mind !
Till on the banks of Ganges' flood,
In a tall ancient grove I flood,
For facred ufe defign'd.
Hard by, a venerable prieft,
Ris'n with his god, the fun, from reft,
Began his morning fong :
3 H Thrice
4 :6 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Thrice he conjur'd the murm'ring ftream;
The birth of fouls was all his theme,
And half divine his tongue.
He fang th' eternal rolling flame ;
That vital mafs that's ftill the fame,
Does all our minds compofe:
Whence fhap'd in twice ten thoufand frames,
Whence differing fouls of different names
And different paflions rofe.
' The mighty Pow'r that form'd the mind,
' One mould for ev'ry two defign'd ;
' Then blefs'd the new-born pair :
" This be a match for this," he faid ;
* Then down he fent the fouls he made,
' To feek them bodies here.
* But parting from their warm abodes,
* They loft their fellows on the roads,
' And never join'd their hands :
* O cruel chance, arid crofling fates !
'Our Eafterri fouls have loft their mates
On Europe's barbarous lands !*
Thus fang the wond'rous Indian bard;
My liftening ear attentive heard,
Whilft Ganges ceas'd tq flow:
' Sure, then,* faid I, ' could I but fee
* The gentle nymph that twin'd with me,
* I might be happy too ! r
Some courteous angel tell me where,
What diftant lands the unknown fair,
Or diftant feas detain ;
-
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 4r
Swift as the wheel of nature rolls,
I'd fly to meet and mingle fouls,
And wear the joyful chain.
THE FORCE OF RELIGION;
OR, VANQUISHED LOVE.
IN TWO BOOKS.
BY DR. YOUNG,
Cratior et pulchro veniens in corpore virtus. vin
BOOK I.
Ad ccelum ardentia lamina tollens,
Lumina ; nam teneras arcebant vincula palmas. VTR
FROM lofty themes, from thoughts that foar'd on high,
And open'd wond'rous fcenes above the (ky,
My Mufe, defcend ! indulge my fond defire ;
With fofter thoughts my melting foul infpire,
And fmooth my numbers to a female's praife :
A partial world will liften to my lays,
While Anna reigns, and fets a female name,
Unrivall'd in the glorious lifts of Fame.
Hear, ye fair daughters of this happy land !
Whofe radiant eyes the vanquim'd world command :
Virtue is beauty ; but when charms of mind
With elegance of outward form are join'd ;
When youth makes fuch bright obje&s flill more bright,
And Fortune fets them in the ftrongeft light,
'Tis all of heav'n that we below may view,
And all but adoration is your due.
Fam'd female virtue did this ifle adorn
Ere Ormond, or her glorious queeai, was born ;
H 2
428 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
When now Maria's pow'rful arms prevailed,
And haughty Dudley's bold ambition fail'd,
The beauteous daughter of great Suffolk's race,
In blooming youth, adorn'd with ev'ry grace,
Who gain'd a crown by treafon not her own,
And innocently fill'd another's throne,
Hurl'd from the fummit of imperial ftate,
With equal mind fuftain'd the ftroke of Fate. '
But how will Guilford, her far dearer part,
Wjth manly reafon fortify his heart ?
At once fhe longs, and is afraid to know ;
Now fwift fhe moves, and now advances flow,
To find her lord ; and, finding, paffes by,,
Silent with fear, nor dare fhe meet his eye,
Left that, unafk'd, in fpeechlefs grief difclofe
The mournful fecret of his inward woes.
Thus, after ficknefs, doubtful of her face,
The melancholy virgin ihun's the glafs.
At length, with troubled thought, but look ferene,
And forrow foften'd by her heav'nly mien,
She clafps her lord, brave, beautiful, and young,
While tender accents melt upon her tongue ;
Gentle and fweet as vernal Zephyr blows,
Fanning the lily or the blooming rofe.
Grieve not, my Lord ; a crown indeed is loft !
* What far outfljines a crown we ftill may boaft ;
* A mind compos'd, a mind that can difdain
* A fruitlefs forrow for a lofs fo vain.
* Nothing is lofs, that virtue can improve
* To wealth eternal, and return above ;
* Above, where no diftinction mail be known
* 'Twixt him whom ftorms have fliaken from a throne,
' And him who, bafking in the fmiles of Fate,
' Shone forth in all the fplendour of the great :
4 Nor can I find the difference here below ;
' I lately was a queen I flill am To,
While
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 429
While Guilfowl's wife : thee rather I obey,
' Than o'er mankind extend imperial f\vay.
' When we He down in fome obfcure retreat,
* Incens'd Maria may her rage forget ;
And I to death my duty will improve,
' And what you mifs in empire add in love !
' Your godlike foul is open'd in your look,
' And I have faintly your great meaning fpoke.
' For this alone I'm pleas'd I wore the crown,
To find with what content we lay it down.
' Heroes may win, but 'tis a heav'nly race
' Can quit a throne with a becoming grace.'
Thus fpoke the faireft of her fex, and chear'd
Her drooping lord, whofe boding bofom fear'd
A darker cloud of ills would burft, and med
Severer vengeance on her guiltlefs head.
Too juft, alas ! the terrors which he felt ;
For, lo ! a guard ! forgive him if he melt
How (harp her pangs, when fever'd from his fide !
The moft fincerely lov'd and loving bride
In fpace confin'd, the Mufe forbears to tell ;
Deep was her anguim, but me bore it well :
His pain was equal, but his virtue lefs ;
He thought in grief there could be no excefs.
Penfive he fat, o'ercaft with gloomy care,
And often fondly clafp'd his abfent fair ;
Now, filent, wander'd thro' his rooms of ftate,
And ficken'd at the pomp, and tax'd his fate,
Which thus adorn'd, in all her mining ftore,
A fplendid wretch, magnificently poor.
Now on the bridal-bed his eyes were caft,
And anguifh fed on his enjoymenti pad ;
Each recollefted pleafurc made him fmart,
And ev'ry tranfport ftabb'd him to the heart.
That happy moon which fummon'd to delight,
That moon which fhone on his dear nuptial night !
Which
450 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Which few him fold her yet untamed charms,
(Deny'd to princes) in his longing arms ;
Now fees the tranfient biefling Meet away,
Empire and love, the vifion of a day !
Thus, in the Britilh clime, a fammer-florra
Will oft the fmiliag face of heav'n deform ;
The winds with violence at once defcend,
Sweep fiow'rs and fruits, and make the foreft bend ;
A fudden winter, while the fun is near,
O'ercomes the feafon, and inverts the year.
But whither is the captive borne away,
The beautecus captive ! from the chearful day ?
The fcene is chang'd, indeed ! before her eyes
Ill-boding looks and unknown horrors rife.;
For pomp and fplendour, for her guard and crown,
A gloomy dungeon, and a keeper's frown :
Black thoughts, each morn, invade the lover's bread ;
Each night a ruffian locks the queen to reft.
Ah, mournful change, if judg'd by vulgar minds '.
But Suffolk's daughter it's advantage finds.
Religion's force divine is beft difplay'd
In deep defertion of all human aid :
To fuccour in extremes is her delight,
And chear the heart when terror ftrikes the fight.
We, difbelieving our own fenfes, gaze,
And wonder what a mortal's heart can raife
To triumph o'er misfortunes, fmile in grief,
And comfort thofe who come to bring relief :
We gaze ; and. as we gaze, wealth, fume, decay,
And all the world's vain glories fade away !
Againft her cares fhe rais'd a dauntlefs mind ;
And with an ardent heart, but moft refign'd,
Deep in the dreadful gloom, with pious heat,
Arr.id the f.lence of her dark retreat,
Addrcfs'd her God ' Almighty Pow'r Divi:
' 'Tis thine to raife, and to deprefs is thine ;
' With
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 43 ,
' With honour to light up the name unknown,
' Or to put out the luftre of a throne.
' In my fhort fpan, both fortunes I have prov'd;
' And tho* with ill frail nature will be mov'd,
' I'll bear it well : (O ftrengthen me to bear !)
' And if my piety may claim thy care ;
' If I remember'd, in youth's giddy heat,
' And tumult of a court, a future ftate,
O favour, when thy mercy I implore,
' For one who never guilty fceptre bore ! '
'Twas I receiv'd the crown ; my lord is free :
* If it muft fall, let vengeance fall on me ;
' Let him furvive, his country's name to raife,
' And in a guilty land to fpeak thy praife !
' O may th' indulgence of a father's love,
' Pour'd forth on me, be doubled from above !
' If thefe are fefe, I'll think my pray'rs fucceed,
' And blefs thy tender mercies whilft I bleed.'
'Twas now the mournful eve before that day
In which the queen to her full wrath gave way ;
Thro' rigid juftice rufli'd into offence,
And drank, in zeal, the blood of innocence.
The fun went down in clouds, and fcem'd to mourn
The fad neceffity of his return ;
The hollow wind, and melancholy rain,
Or did, or was imagin'd to complain ;
The tapers caft an inaufpicious light ;
Stars there were none, and doubly dark the night.
Sweet Innocence in chains can take her rell :
Soft flumber gently creeping thro' her breaft,
She finks ; and in her fleep is re-enthron'd,
Mock'd by a gaudy dream, and vainly crown 'J.
She views .her fleets and armies, feas and land,
And ftretches wide her (hadow of command :
With royal purple is her vifion hung ;
By phantom hods are fliouts of conquefl rung ;
Low
432 .BEAUTIES OF POETRY*
Low at her feet the fuppliant rival lies ;
Our pris'ner mourns her fate, and bids her rife.
Now level beams upon the waters play'd,
Glanc'd on the hills, and weftward caft the made;
The bufy trades in city had began
To found, and fpeak the painful life of man.
In tyrants breafts the thoughts of vengeance rouze,
And the fond bridegroom turns him to his fpoufe.
At this firil birth of light, while morning breaks,
Our fpouielefs bride, our widow'd wife awakes :
Axvakes and fmiles ; nor night's impofture blames ;
Her real pomps were little more than dreams !
A fhort-liv'd blaze, a lightning quickly o'er,
That dy'd in birth, that fiione, and were no more !
She turns her fide, and foon refumes a ftate
Of mind well fuited to her alter'd fate ;
Serene, tho' ferious ; when dread tidings come
(Ah, wretched Guilford !) of her inftant doom.
Sun, hide thy beams ! in clouds as black as night
Thy face involve ; be guiltlefs of the fight !
Or hafte more fwiftly to the weitern main,
Nor let her blood the confcious day-light ftain !
Oh, how fevere ! to fall fo new a bride,
Yet blufhing from the prieit, in youthful pride ;
When Time had juit matur'd eacli perfeft grace,
And open'd all the wonders of her face 5
To leave her Guilford dead to all relief,
Fond of his woe, and obftinate in grief.
Unhappy fair ! whatever fancy drew,
(Vain promis'd bleflings !) vanifh from her view.
No train of chearful days, endearing nights ;
No fweet domeftick joys, and chafte delights ;
Pleafures that bloflfom e'en from doubts and fears,
And blifs and rapture rifmg out of cares :
No little Guilford, with paternal grace,
Lull'd on her knee, or fmiling in her face ;
Who,
BEAUTIES -OF POETRY. 43,
Who, when her deareft father (hall return,
From pouring tears on her untimely urn,
Might comfort to his filver hairs impart,
And fill her place in his indulgent heart ;
As where fruits fall quick-rifmg bloflbms fmile,
And the blefs'd Indian of his cares beguile.
In vain thefe various reafons jointly prefs
To blacken death, and heighten her diftrefs ;
She thro' th' encircling terrors darts her fight
To the blefs'd regions of eternal light,
And fills her foul with peace : to weeping friends
Her father and her lord me recommends,
Unmov'd herfelf. Her foes her air furvey,
And rage to fee their malice thrown away.
She foars ! now nought on earth detains her care
But Guilford, who ftill ftruggles for his mare :
Still will his form importunately rife,
Clog and retard her tranfport to the ikies.
As trembling flames now take a feeble flight,
Now catch the brand with a returning light ;
Thus her foul onward, from the feats above
Falls fondly back, and kindles into love.
At length (he conquers in the doubtful field ;
That Heav'n fhe feeks will be her Guilford's fliield.
Now Death is welcome ! his approach is flow ;
'Tis tedious longer to cxpeft the blow.
Oh, mortals ! fliort of fight, who think the part:
O'erblown misfortune ftill fliall prove the laft :
Alas ! misfortunes travel in a train,
And oft in life form one perpetual chain ;
Fear buries fear, and ills on ills attend,
Till life and forrow meet one common end.
She thinks that fhe has nought but death to fear,
And death is conquer'd. Worfe than death is near :
Her rigid trials are not yet compleat ;
The news arrives of her great father's fate.
3 I Sh
434 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
She fees his hoary head, all white with age,
A viftim to th* offended monarch's rage.
How great the mercy,, had ihe breath'd her laft
Ere the dire fentence on her father pafs'd !
A fonder parent nature never knew,
And as his age increas'd his fondnefs grew.
A parent's love ne'er better was beftow'd ;
The pious daughter in her heart o'erflow'd.
And can me from all weaknefs Hill refrain,
And ftill the firmnefs of her foul maintain ?
Impoflible ! a figh will force it's way ;
One patient tear her mortal birth betray :
She fighs and weeps ! but fo me weeps anyl fighs,
As filent dews defcend, and vapours rife. ;
Celeftiai Patience ! how doft thou defeat
The foe's proud menace, and elude his hate J
While Paflion takes his part, betrays our peace^
To death and torture fwells each flight difgrace ;
By not oppofing thou doft ills deftroy,
And wear thy conquer'd forrows into joy
Now me revolves within her anxious mind
What woe ftill lingers in referve behind :
Griefs rife on griefs, and ihe can fee no bound,
While nature lafts, and can receive a wound.
* The fword is drawn ; the queen to rage indin'd,
' By mercy, nor by piety confin'd:
' What mercy can the zealot's heart afTuage,
* Whofe piety itfelf converts to rage ?'
She thought, and figh'd ; and now the blood began
To leave her beauteous cheek all cold and wan :
New forrow dimm'd the luftre of her eye,
And on her cheek the fading rofes die.
' Alas ! mould Guilford too r' When now fne's brought
To that dire view, that precipice of thought ;
While there fhe trembling Hands, nor dares look down,
Nor can recede, till Heav'n's decrees are known,
Cure
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 43i
Cure of all ills, till now, her lord appears
But not to chear her heart, and dry her tears !
Not now, as ufual, like the rifing day,
To chafe the fhadows and the damps away ;
But, like a gloomy ftorm, at once to fweep
And plunge her to the bottom of the deep.
Black were his robes, deje&ed was his air,
His voice was frozen hy his cold defpair ;
Slow, like a ghoft, he mov'd with folemn pace ;
A dying palenefs fat upon his face.
Back flie recoil'd, me frnote her lovely breaft,
Her eyes the anguifh of her heart confefs'd ;
Struck to the. foul, me ftagger'd with the wound,
And funk, a breathlefs image, to the ground.
Thus the fair lily, when the fky's o'ercaft.
At firft but fhudders in the feeble blaft ;
But when the winds and weighty rains defcend
The fair and upright ftem is forc'd to bend,
Till broke, at length, it's fnowy leaves are flied.
And ftrew with dying fweets their native bed.
BOOK II.
Hie pistntis honos? fie nos in fceptra reponis ? TIRO.
TT E R Guilford claims her, beautiful in death,
* And with a kifs recalls her fleeting breath.
To tapers thus, which by a blaft expire,
A lighted taper, touch'd, reftores the fire.
She rear'd her fwimming eye, and faw the light;
And Guilford, too, or (he had loath'd the fight.
Her father's death me bore, defpis'd her own,
But now flie muft, flie will have leave to groan.
' Ah, Guilford!' fhe began, and would have fpoke,
But fobs rufli'd in, and ev'ry accent broke :
3X2 Reafon
43 6 BEAUTIES OF POETRf.
Reafon itfelf, as gufts of paffion blew,
Was ruffled in the tempeft, and withdrew.
So the youth loft his image in the well,
When tears upon the yielding furface fell ;
The fcatter'd features flid into decay,
And fpreading circles drove his face away.
To touch the foft afFe&ions, and controul
The man-ly temper of the braveft foul,
What with afflicted beauty can Compare,
And drops of love diftilling from the fair ?
It melts us down ; our pains delight beftow,
And we with fondnefs languifh o'er our woe.
This Guilford prov'd j and, with excefs of pamy
And pleafure too, did to his bofom ftrairr
The weeping fair ; funk deep in foft defire,
Indulg'd his love, and nws'd the raging fire :
Then tore himfelf away ; and, ftanding wide,
As fearing a relapfe of fondnefs, cry'd,
With ill-diflembled grief, My life, forbear!
* You wound your Guilford with each cruel tear ;
* Did you not chide my grief? reprefs your own,
f Nor want companion for yourfelf alone.
f Have you beheld how, from the diftant main,
' The thronging waves roll on, a num'rous train,
c And foam, and bellow, till they reach' the more,
' There burft their noify pride, and are no more ?
* Thus the'fucceffive flows of hn man race,
Chac'd by the coming, the preceding chace ;
' They found and fwell, their hatrghty heads thty'itar,
e Then fall and flatten, break and difappcar;
' Life is a forfeit we muft ihortly pay,
' And where's the mighty lucre of a day ?
' Why fliould you mourn my fate ? 'tis moft tmkiird ;
c Your own you bore with an unfhaken mind :
{ And which 5 , can you imagine, was the dart
* That drank moft blood, funk deepeft in my -heart?'
i ' I car.-
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 4J 7
I cannot live without you ; and my doom
* I meet with joy, to ftiare erne common tomb.
* And are, again, your tears profufely fpilt?
' Oh ! then my kindnefs blackens to my guilt ;
' It foils, itfelf if it recall your pain :
' Life of my life ! I beg you to refrain !
The load which Fate impofes you increase, ,
' And help Maria to deftroy my peace !'
But, oh ! againft hinifelf his labour turn'd ;
The more he comforted, the more me mourn'd.
Compaflion fwells our grief; words foft and kind
But foothe our weaknefs, and difiblve the mind.
Her forrow flow'd in ftreams : nor her's alone ;
While that he blam'd, he yielded to his own.
Where are the fmiles me wore when me, fo late,
Hail'd him great partner of the regal ftate ;
When orient gems around her temples blaz'd,
And bending nations on the glory gaz'd ?
'Tis now the queen's command they both retreat,
To weep with dignity, and mourn in Hate:
She forms the decent mifery with joy,
And loads with pomp the wretch (lie would deftroy.
A fpacious hall is hung with black ; all light
Shut out, and noon-day, darken'd into night :
From the mid-roof a lamp depends on high,
Like a dim crefcent in a clouded fey ;
It Iheds a quiv'riiig, melancholy gloom,
Which only (hews the dafknefs of the room.
A mining axd is on the table laid,
A dreadful fight! and glitters thro' the fhad.
In this fad fcene the lovers are confin'd,
A fcene of terrors to a guilty mind!
A fcene that would have damp'd with rifmg cares,
And quite extinguifh'd every love but theirs.
What can they do ? they fix their mournful eyes-
Then Uuilford thus, abruptly : ' I dcfpife
'An
43? BEAUTIES OF POET-R-V.
' An empire loft; I fling away the crown;
' Numbers have laid that bright delufion down ;
But where's the Charles, or Dioclefian where,
' Could quit the blooming, wedded, weeping fair?
' Oh! to dwell ever on thy lip ! to ftand
In full pofleflion of thy fnowy hand !
And, thro' th' unclouded cryftal of thy eye,
' The heav'nly treafures of thy mind to fpy !
' Till rapture reafon happily deftroys,
' And my foul wanders thro' immortal joys !
' Give me the world, and a/k me where's my blifs ;
' I clafp thee to my breaft, and anfwer, " This."
' And mall the grave ' He groans, and can no more.
But all her charms in filence traces o'er :
Her lip, her cheek, and eye, to wonder wrought ;
And, wond'ring, fees, in fad prefaging thought,
From that fair neck, that world of beauty, fall,
And roll along the dull, a ghaftly ball !
Oh ! let thofe tremble who are greatly blefs'd ;
For who but Guilford could be thus.diftrefs'd?
Come hither, all you happy, all you great !
From flow'ry meadows, and from rooms of flate j
Nor think I call your pleafures to deftroy,
But to refine, and to exalt your joy :
Weep not ; but, fmiling, fix your ardent care
On nobler titles than the brave or fair.
Was ever fuch a mournful, moving fight !
See, if you can,, by that dim, trembling light.
Now they embrace ; and, mix'd with bitter woe,
Like Ifis and her Thames, one ftream they flow :
Now they ftart wide ; fix'd in benumbing care,
They ftiffen into ftatnes of defpair.
Now, ten4erly fevere, and fiercely kind,
They rufh at once ; they fling their cares behind,
And clafp, as if to death ; new vows repeat,
And, quite wrapp'd up in love, forge: their fate.
A fhort
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 43*
A fhort delation ! for the raging pain
Returns, and their poor hearts muft bleed again.
Mean time the queen new cruelty decreed ;
But ill content that they mould only bleed.
A prieft is fent, who, with infidious art,
Inftills his poifon into Suffolk's heart ;
And Guilford drank it: hanging on the breaft,
He from his childhood was with Rome pofiefs'd.
When now the minifters of Death draw nigh,
And in her deareft lord me firft muft die,
The fubtle prieft, who long had watch'd to find
The moft unguarded pafies of her mind,
Befpoke her thus : ' Grieve not; 'tis in your pow'r
' Your lord to refcue from this fatal hour.'
Her bofom pants ; (he draws her breath with pain ;
A fudden horror thrills thro' ev'ry vein :
Life feems fufpended, on his \vords intent,
And her foul trembles for the great event.
The prieft proceeds : ' Embrace the faith of Rome,
And ward your own, your lord's, and father's doom.'
Ye bleffed fpirits ! now your charge fuftain ;
The paft was eafe ; now firft me fuffers pain.
Muft me pronounce her father's death ? muft me
Bid Guilford bleed ? It muft not, cannot be !
It cannot be ! but 'tis the Chriftian's praife,
Above impoffibilities to raife
The weaknefs of our nature, and deride
Of vain philofophy the boafted pride.
What tho' our feeble fmews fcarce impart
A moment's fwiftnefs to the feather'd dart ;
Tho' tainted air our vig'rous youth can break,
And a chill blaft the hardy warrior make ;
Yet are we ftrong. Hear the loud tempeft roar
From eaft to weft, and call us weak no more ;
The lightning's unrefifted force proclaims
Our might, and thunders raife our humble names :
'Tis
440 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
'Tis our Jehovah fills the heav'ns ; as long
As he mall reign Almighty we are ftrong.
We, by devotion, borrow from his throne,
And almoft make Omnipotence our own :
We force the gates of heav'n by fervent pray'r,
And cafl forth triumph out of man's defpair.
Our lovely mourner, kneeling, lifts her eyes,
And bleeding heart, in filence, to the flues ;
Devoutly fad then, bright'ning, like the day,
When fudden winds fweep fcatter'd clouds away,
Shining in majefty, till now unknown,
And breathing life arid fpirit fcarce her own,
She, rifmg, fpeaks : ' If thefe the terms '
Here Guilford, cruel Guilford! (barb'rous man !
Is this thy love !) as fwift as lightning ran,
O'erwhelm'd her, with ternpeftuous forrow fraught,
And ftifled in it's birth, the mighty thought.
Then, burfting frefh into a flood of tears,
Fierce, refolute, delirious with his fears,
His fears for her alone, he beat his bread,
And thus the fervour of his foul exprefs'd :
Oh ! let thy thought o'er our paft converfe rove,
And fhew one moment uninflam'd with love !
' Oh ! if thy kindnefs can no longer laft,
In pity to thyfelf forget the paft !
' Elfe wilt thou never, void of fhame and fear,
' Pronounce his doom whom thou haft held fo dear.
' Thou, who haft took me to thy arms, and fwore
' Empires were vile, and Fate could give no more ;
That to continue was it's utmoft pow'r,
' And makehe future like the prefent hour :
' Now call a ruffian, bid his cruel fword
Lay wide the bofora of thy worthlefs lord ;
Transfix his heart (fmce you it's love difclaim)
' And flam his honour with a traitor's name.
This
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 441
' This might perhaps be borne without remorfe,
c But fure a father's pangs will have their force !
* Shall his good age, fo near it's journey's end,
' Thro' cruel torment to the grave defcend?
' His mallow blood all iflue at a wound,
' Warn a flave's feet, and fmoke upon the ground ?
' But he to you has ever been fevere ;
* Then take your vengeance ' Suffolk now drew near,
Bending beneath the burden of his care,
His robes neglefted, and his head was bare.
Decrepit Winter, in the yearly ring,
Thus {lowly creeps to meet the blooming Spring :
Downward he call a melancholy look,
Thrice turn'd to hide his grief, then faintly fpoke.
* Now deep in years, and forward in decay,
' That axe can only rob me of a day :
' For thee, my foul's defire ! I can't refrain ;
' And mall my tears, my laft tears, flow in vain ?
' When you mail know a mother's tender name,
' My heart's' diitrefs no longer will you blame!'
At this, afar his burfting groans were heard ;
The tears ran trickling down his filver beard :
He fnatch'd her hand, which to his lips he prefs'd,
And bid her plant a dagger in his bread ;
Then, finking, call'd her piety unjuft,
And foil'd his hoary temples in the duft.
Hard-hearted men ! will you no mercy know ?
Has the queen brib'd you to diftrefs her foe ?
O, weak deferters to Misfortune's part,
By falfe afteftion thus to pierce her heart !
When fiie had foar'd, to let your arrows fly,
And fetch her bleeding from the middle fky.
And can her virtue, fpringing from the ground,
Her flight recover, and difdain the wound ;
When cleaving love, and human int'reft, bind
The broken force of her afpiring mind ?
3K As
442
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
As round the gen'rous eagle, which in vain
Exerts her ftrength, the ferpent wreaths his train,
Her ftruggling wings entangles, curling plies
His pois'nous tail, and ftings her as me flies.
While yet the blow's firil dreadful weight flie feels,
And with it's force her refolution reels;
Large doors, unfolding with a mournful found,
To view difcover, welt'ring on the ground,
Three headlefs trunks of thofe whofe arms maintain'd,
And in her wars immortal glory gain'd :
The lifted axe afmr'd her ready doom,
.And filent mourners fadden'd all the room.
Shall I proceed, or here break off my tale,
Nor truths, to ftagger human faith, reveal ?
She met this utmoft malice of her fate
With Chriftian dignity and pious flat;e ;.
The beating ftorm's propitious rage ihe blefs'd,
And all the martyr triumph'd in her breaft.
Her lord and father, for a moment's fpace,
She ftriftly folded in her foft embrace !
Then thus Ihe fpoke, while angels heard on high,
And fudden gladnefs fmil'd along the fky.
' Your over-fondnefs has not mov'd my hate ;
* I am well pleas 'd you ni^ke mv death fo great :
' I joy I cannot fave you ; and have giv'n
* Two lives, much dearer than my own, to Heav'r,,
' If fo the queen decrees *. But I have caufe
' To hope my blood will fatisfy the laws ;
' And there is mercy Hill, for you in ftore.
' With me, the bitternefs of death is o'er ;
f He mot his fling in that farewel embrace,
' And all that is to come is joy and peace.
' Then let miftaken forrow be fupprefs'd,
' Nor feem to envy my approaching reft I'
* Ketc flic embraces them.
Then,
Plate YT.
I'lililillnl us tin- .VI 'lir.vtx.livll-imliiii .':(" M.M 1 l". I7"! .
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 443
Then, turning to the minifters of Fate,
She, fmiling, fays, ' My victory's compleat ;
' And tell your queen I thank her for the blow,
' And grieve, my gratitude I cannot {how.
A poor return I leave in England's crown,
For everlafting pleafure and renown :
' Her guilt alone allays this happy hour ;
' Her guilt the only vengeance in her pow'r !*
Not Romes untouch'd with forrow, heard her fate ;
And fierce Maria pity'd her too late.
EFFUSIONS OF MELANCHOLY.
BY MISS ROBERTS.
TH E filent tear, that deals adown the cheek ;
The heart-felt figh, that heaves and is fupprefs'd :
Thefe figns the anguifh of the mind befpeak,
And mew the forrow lab'ring in my brcaft.
At times, before my fad deluded eye
Some dancing gleams of flatt'ring hope appear ;
But foon the airy vifions diftant fly,
Thofe tranfient phantoms, chac'd by black Defpair !
That gloomy tyrant now refumes his feat,
O'er my fad foul extends his racking fway ;
Obedient to his will my pulfes beat,
And meet with rifing grief each new-born day.
Fiftitious fmiles, that dimple o'er my face,
(Light covering of a heart with woe replete !)
How oft the ftarting tears your charms deface !
And fighsi half fmother'd, tell the vain deceit.
3 K 2 Oh
444 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Oh ! could my feeling foul, from earth refin'd,
Reach the bright manfions of eternal reft ;
To Heaven each fublunary wifh refignM ;
No more mould paffions fwell this beating breafH
Thefe eyes, from whence the briny ftreams have flow'd,
Oft for my own, and oft for others ill ;
Their flock exhaufted, fpent their wat'ry load,
Crumbled in duft, no more mould tears diftill !
ROSLINE CASTLE.
AN ELEGY.
BY J. JOHN STONE, ESQ^
AT dead of night, the hour when courts
In gay fantaftick pleafures move ;
And haply Mira joins their fports,
And hears fome newer, richer love :
To Rofline's ruins I repair*
A folitary wretch forlorn ;
To mourn, uninterrupted, there,
My haplefs love, her haplefs fcorn.
a
No found of joy difturbs my ftrain,
No hind is whittling on the hill ;
No hunter winding o'er the plain,
No maiden finging at the rill.
Elk, murm'ring thro' the dufky pines,
Reflects the moon's mift-mantled beam ;
And Fancy chills, where'er it ihines,
To fee pale ghoils obfcurely gleam.
No;
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 445
Not fo the nights that in thy halls,
Once, Rofline, danc'd in joy along :
Where owls now fcream along thy walls,
Refounded mirth-infpiring fong.
Where bats now reft their footy wings,
Th' impurpl'd feaft was wont to flow;
And beauty danc'd in graceful rings,
And princes fat, where nettles grow.
What now avails, how great? how gay?
How fair, how fine, their matchlefs dames?
Here fleeps their undiftinguifli'd clay ;
And e'en the ftones have loft their names.
And yon gay crouds muft foon expire,
Unknown, unprais'd, each fair-one's name!
Not fo the charms that bards infpire;
Increafmg years increafe their fame.
Oh, Mira! what is ftate or wealth ?
The great can never love like me !
Wealth adds not days, nor quickens health,
Then, wifer thou, come happy be !
Come, and be mine ! in this fweet fpot,
Where Eflc rolls clear his little wave,
We'll live, and Eflc mail, in a cot,
See joys that Rofline never gave.
HICHAM
44$ BEAUTIES OF !>OETRf.
HIGHAM HILL.
A PASTORAL.
BY MR. NICHOLLS.
ON Higham Hill, when profpe&s fair
Salute the wand 'ring fight,
I love to breathe the morning air,
And fleep the fummcr night :
There, how charming 'tis to wake
When filver Cynthia reigns !
Whilft Philomel, from flow'ry brake,
Pours forth her love-lorn ftrains.
Then, oh ! then, I love .to rife,
And trace the broom-clad hill j
Whilft thro' the ftillnefs foftly flies
The whifpers of the rill ;
Nor elfe is heard to interpofe,
From dingle, bum, or dale,
Save Thames, foft kiffing, as he goes,
The rufh-embroider'd vale.
As down the flope I traverfe then,
I fcan with curious eye
The wonders Heav'n prefents to men,
And wifii the atheift by :
His mind, howe'er impervious grown
To theologick lore,
With me, I think, would quickly own
A fupernatural Pow'rl
When bufmefs dulls the mental pow'rs,
To Higham Hill I run,
And with the breath of op'ning flow'rs
There hail the rifing fun.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 447
Then how my foul revives again!
My fancy takes her flight ;
The mufe refumes her wonted ftrain,
And fmgs with new delight !
Let the proud thing of human race,
Who, like a fummer fly,
Scuds to-day from place to place,
And muft to-morrow die ;
Let him to greatnefs bend the knee,
Or heap up fordid wealth ;
The top of Higham Hill for me,
That feat of Peace and Health!
Peace and Health ! O, facred theme,
With all that's blifsful fraught !
The reft is but an empty dream,
Not worth a poet's thought :
May he, who ftrives for more than this,
Still turn a barren foil.
Nor ever meet a ray of blifs
To mitigate his toil 1
Bear me from hence, fome rural god,
To Higham Hill again ;
The choiceft bloom that decks the fod
I'll fcatter round thy fane :
For, O ! I long, at fervid noou,
To breathe the blue-bell's fweet ;
To fit and hear the throftle's tune,
Where fpreuding hazels meet;
Or ftray by hawthorn hedge, or rove
Adown the pathlefs way,
When ev'ry fong-bird c hears his lovt
Beneath the bloom of May :
Till
44.8 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Till weary herds retire to reft,
Till fheep are pent in fold,
Till Phcebus leaves the ruddy weft
With tints of burnifh'd gold !
If, when I ftray to Higham Hill,
I meet the ruftick throng,
They greet me with a right good will,
And note me for my fong :
For oft at May, in rural fport,
I fpend with them the day,
And make the vices of a court
The burden of my lay.
And oft I've fang the tender ftrain,*
The while the village maid
Was leaning on her fav'rite fvvain,
And all her heart betray'd.
The lofty theme I ne'er eflay'd,
(Let Laureats fuch rehearfe !)
But wherefoe'er my fancy ftray 'd,
A moral mark'd my verfe.
Their loves to me the fhepherds tell,
What fwains have faithlefs prov'd;
What maids for beauty bear the belle,
And who are leafl belov'd :
The virgins come in modeft guife,
- I love their plaints to hear ;
'Tis joy to foothe their artlefs fighs,
And ftop the ftarting tear.
No thorns obftru<St their path of life,
With health their farms abound ;
And, foes to law and lawlefs ftrife,
They live" the zodiack round.
To
BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
To me their tranquil ftate they owe;
They all confefs it ftill;
And grateful praife, where'er they go,
The bard of Higham Hill.
ALEXANDER'S FEAST;
OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC K.
AN ODE,
IN HOKOCR or ST. CECILIA'S DAY.
BY MR. D R Y D E N.
at the royal feaft, for Perfia won
.By Philip's warlike fon ;
Aloft in awful ftate
The godlike hero fate
On his imperial throne :
His valiant peers were plac'd around,
Their brows with rofes and with myrtles bound j
(So (hould defert in arms be crown'd.)
The lovely Thais by his fide,
Sat liice a blooming Eaftern bride,
In flow'r of youth and beauty's pride*
Happy, happy, happy pair !
None but the brave,
None but the brave,
None but the brave deferVes the fair.
Timotheus, plac'd on high,
Amid the tuneful quire,
With flying fingers touch'd the lyre j
The trembling notes afcend the (Icy,
And heavenly joys infpire.
3 L The
450 BEAUTIES OF POETRY,
The fong began from Jove,
Who left his blifsful feats above ;
(Such is the pow'r of mighty love !)
A dragon's fiery form bely'd the god ;
Sublime on radiant fpires he rode,
When he to fair Olympia prefs'd,
And while he fought her fnowy breaft;
Then rou-nd her flender waift he curl'd r
And ftamp'd an image of himfelf, a fov'reign of the world.
The Uft'ning crowd admire the lofty found ;
* A prefent deity !' they ftiout around ;
' A prefent deity !' the vaulted roofs rebound.
With ravim'd ears
The monarch hears ;
A flumes the god,
Affe&s to nod,
And feems to make the fpheres.
The praife of Bacchus then the fweet mufician fung ;
Of Bacchus, ever fair and ever young.
f The jolly god in triumph comes ;
Sound the trumpets, beat the drums :
' Flufh'd with a purple grace,
He mews his honeft face.
' Now give the hautboys breath. He comes J he comes !
' Bacchus, ever fair and young,
' Drinking joys did firft ordain i
' Bacchus' bleflings are a treafure ;
* Drinking is the foldier's pleafure L
' Rich the treafure,
' Sweet the pleafure ;
Sweet is pleafure after pain"
Sooth'd with the found, the king grew vain ;
Fought all his battles o'er again ;
And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he flew the flain.
The
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 45 l
The mafter faw the madnefs rife,
His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes,
And while he heav'n and earth defy'd,
Chang'd his hand, and check'd his pride.
He chofe a mournful Mufe,
Soft Pity to infufe :
He fung, ' Darius, great and good 1
* By -too fevere a fate,
' Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen,
' Fallen from his high eftate,
* And welt'ring in his blood.
' Deferted at his utmoft need, .
' By thofe his former bounty fed ;
' On the tjare earth expos'd he lies,
' With not a friend to clofe his eyes.'
With downcaft looks the joylefs viftor fate,
Revolving in his alter'd foul
The various turns of chance below ;
And now and then a figh he ftole,
And tears began to flow.
The mighty mafter fmil'd to fee
That Love was in the next degree ;
'Twas but a kindred found to move,
For Pity melts the mind to Love.
Softly fweet, in Lydian meafures,
Soon he footh'd his foul to pleafures.
' War,' he fung, ' is toil' and trouble,
' Honour, but an empty bubble :
* Never ending, ftill beginning,
' Fighting ftill, and ftill deftroying ;
' If the world be worth thy winning,
' Think, O think it worth enjoying !
' Lovely Thais fits befide thee ;
? Take the good the gods provide the*!*
3 I*. 2 The
45* BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
The many rend the flues with loud applaufe :
So Love was crown'd, but Mufick won the caufe.
The prince, unable to conceal his pain,
Gaz'd on the fair
Who caus'd his care,
And figh'd and look'd, figh'd and look'd,
Sigh'd and look'd, and figh'd again.
At length, with Love and Wine at once opprefs'd,
The^vanquifh'd viftor funk upon her breafl.
* Now ftrike the golden lyre again :
* A louder yet, and yet a louder flrain.
' Break his bands of fleep afunder,
* And rouze him, like a rattling peal of thunder.
' Hark, hark I the horrid found
' Has rais'd up his head,
' As awak'd from the dead,
4 And, amaz'd, he ftares around.'
' Revenge, revenge!' Timotheus cries ;
' See the Furies arife !
See the fnakes that they rear,
' How they hifs in their hair ?
And the fparkles that flafli from their eyes !
< Behold a ghaftly band,
' Each a torch in his hand !
' Thofe are Grecian ghofts, that in battle were flain,
' And unbury'd remain,
' Inglorious, on the plain.
' Give the vengeance due
' To the valiant crew :
Behold how they tofs their torches on high,
' How they point to the Perfian abodes,
' And glitt'ring temples of their holtile god ! '
The princes applaud with a furious joy,
And the king feiz'd a flambeau, with zeal to deftroy :
Thai's
BEAUTIES OF POETRY, 453
Thai's led the way.
To light him to his prey;
And, like another Helen, nVd another Troy.
Thus, long ago.
Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow.
While organs yet were mute,
Timotheus, to his breathing flute
And founding lyre,
Could fwell the foul to rage, or kindle foft defire.
At laft, divine Cecilia came,
Inventrefs of the vocal frame ;
The fweet enthufiaft, from her facred flore,
Enlarg'd the former narrow bounds,
And added length to folemn founds,
With Nature's mother wit, and arts unknown before.
Let old Timotheus yield the prize,
Or both divide the crown ;
Jie rais'd a mortal to the fides,
She drew an angel down.
BAUCIS AND P H I L E M O N.
\\RITTEN ABOUT THE YTAR MPCCYIII.
BY DEAN SWIFT.
IN ancient times, as flory tells,
The faints would often leave their crll ,
And Itroll about, but hide their quality,
To try good people's hospitality.
It happen'd on a winter night,
As authors of the legend write,
Two brother hermits, faints by trade,
Taking their tour in mafqueradi-.
Difgoia'd
454 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Difguis'd in tatter'd habits, went
To a fmall village down in Kent ;
Where, in the ftrollers canting ftrain,
They begg'd from door to door in vain ;
Try'd ev'ry tone might pity win,
But not a foul would let them in.
Our wand'ring faints, in woeful ftate,
Treated at this ungodly rate,
Having thro' all the village pafs'd,
To a fmall cottage came at laft ;
Where dwelt a good old honeft ye'raan,
Call'd in the neighbourhood Philemon,
Who kindly did thefe faints invite,
Jn his poor hut to pafs the night ;
And then the hofpitable fire
Bid Goody Baucis mend the fire,
While he from out the chimney took
A flitch of bacon off the hook,
And freely from the fattefl fide
Cut out large flices to be fry'd ;
Then ftepp'd afide to fetch 'em drink,
Fill'd a large jug up to the brink,
And faw it fairly twice go round :
"Yet (what is wonderful !) they found
'Twas ftill replenifh'd to the top,
As if they had not touch'J a drop.
The good old couple were amaz'd,
And often on each other gaz'd ;
For both were frighten'd to the heart,
And jurt began to cry, ' What art !'
Then foftly turn'd aade, to view
Whether the lights were burning blue.
The gentle pilgrims, foon aware on't,
Told them their calling and their errant.
Good folks ! you need not be afraid;
We are but faints :' the hermits faid.
No
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 455
No hurt mall pome to you or yours ;
' But for that pack of churlifti boors,
' Not fit to live on Chriftian ground,
' They and their houfes lhall be drown'd,
' Whilft you fhall fee your cottage rife,
And grow a church before your eyes.'
They fcarce had fpoke, when (fair and foft)
The roof began to mount aloft :
Aloft rofe ev'ry beam and rafter ;
The heavy wall climb'd flowly after.
The chimney, widen'd and grew high'r,
Became a fteeple with a fpire.
The kettle to the top was hoift,
And there flood faften'd to a joift,
But with the upfide down, to mow
It's inclination for below ;
Tn vain, for a fuperior force,
Apply'd at bottom, flops it's courfe :
Doom'd ever in fufpenfe to dwell,
'Tis now no kettle, but a bell.
A wooden jack, which had almoft
Loft, by difufe, the art to roaft,
A fudden alteration feels,
Increas'd by new intefline wheels ;
And, what exalts the wonder more,
The number made the motion flow'r.
The flier, tho' it had leaden feet,
Turn'd round fo quick you fcarce could fee't ;
But, flacken'd by fome fecret pow'r,
Now hardly moves an inch an hour.
The jack and chimney, near ally'd,
Had never left each other's fide :
The chimney to a llceple grown,
The jack would not be left alone;
But, up againfl the fteeple rear'd,
Became a clock, and ftill adher'd.
Arul
BEAUTIES OF POETRt.
And Hill it's kve to houfhold cares,
By a fhrill voice,, at noon declares;
Warning the cook-maid not to burn
That roaft-meat which it cannot turn.
The groaning- chair began to crawl,
Like a huge fnail, along the wall;
There ftuck aloft in publick view,
And, with fmall change, a pulpit grew*
The porringers, that in a row,
Hung high, and made a glitt'ring fhowj
To a lefs noble fubftance chang'd,
"Were now but leathern buckets rang'd.
The ballads pafted on the wall,
Of Joan of France and Englifh Moll ;
Fair Rofamond and Robin Hood,
The Little Children in (he Wood ;
Now feem'd to look abundance better,
Improv'd in pi&ure,- fize, and letter;
And, high in order plac'd, defcribe
The heraldry of ev'ry tribe.
A bedftead of the antique mode,
Compact of timber many a load,
Such as our anceftors did life,
Was metamorphosed into pews ;
Which dill their ancient nature keep,
By lodging folks difpos'd to deep.
The cottage, by fuch feats as thefe
Grown to a church by juft degrees,
The hermits then defir'd their hoft
To afc for what he fancy'd moft.
Philemon, haviag paus'd a while,
Return'd them thanks in homely Ityle ;
Then faid, ' My houfe is grown lo hue,
Methinks I ftill. would call it mine :
' I'm old, and fain would live at eafe ;
' Make me the parfon, if you pleafe-.*
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 457
He fpoke ; and prefently he feels
His grazier's coat fall down his heels ;
He fees, yet hardly can believe,
About each arm a pudding-fleeve :
His waiftcoat to a caflbck grew
And both affum'd a fable hue ;
But, being old, continu'd juft
As threadbare, and as full of duft.
His talk was now of tythes and dues ;
He fmok'd his pipe, and read the news ;
Knew how to preach old fermons next,
Vamp'd in the preface and the text :
At chrift'nings well could aft his part,
And had the fervice all by heart.
Wifh'd women might have children faft,
And thought whofe fow had farrow'd lafl
Againft Diflenters would repine,
And flood up firm for right divine.
Found his head fill'd with many a fyltem ;
But clamck authors he ne'er mifs'd 'em.
Thus having furbifh'd up a parfon,
Dame Baucis next they play'd their farce on.
Inflead of home-fpun coifs, were feen
Good pinners edg'd with Colberteen ;
Her petticoat, transform'd apace,
Became black fattin fiounc'd with lace.
Plain Goody would no longer down ;
'Twas Madam, in her grogram gown,
Philemon was in great furprize,
And hardly could believe his eyes,
Amaz'd to fee her look fo prim,
And me admir'd as much at him.
Thus happy in their change of life,
Were fev'ral years this man and wife :
When, on a day, which prov'd their Jail,
Difcourfing o'er old (lories paft,
3 M They
45* BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
They went by chance, amidft their talk,
To the church-yard, to take a walk,
When Baucis haftily cry'd out,
' My dear, I fee your forehead fproutl'
Sprout!' quoth the man ; ' what's this you tell us?
' I hope you don't believe me jealous !
' But yet, methinks, I feel it true;
* And, really, yours is budding too !
' Nay now J cannot ftir my foot ;
* It feels as if 'twere taking root!'
Defcription would but tire my Mufe:
In ftiort, they both were tnrn'd to yews.
Old Goodman Bobfon of the Green,
Remembers he the trees has feen ;
He'll talk of them from noon till night,
And goes with folks to fliew the fight.
On Sundays, after ev'ning pray'r,
He gathers all the parim there ;
Points out the place of either yew
' Here Baucis, there Philemon, grew :
' Till once a parfon of our town,
* To mend his barn, cut Baucis down;
At which 'tis hard to be believ'd
' How much the other tree was griev'd,
' Grew fcrubby, dy'd a-top, was Hunted,
* So the next parfon ftubb'd and burnt it.*
THE CHOICE.
BY THE REV. MR. P O M F R E T.
IF Heav'n the grateful liberty would give,
That I might chufe my method how to live,
And all thofe hours propitious Fate mould lend,
In blifsful eafe and fatisfactioa Ipend
BEAUTIES OF POETRY 459
Near fome fair town I'd have a private feat,
Built uniform; not litde, nor too great:
Better if on a rifing ground it flood;
On this fide fields, on that a neighboring wood.
It fhould within no other things contain
But what are ufeful, neceffary, plain:
Methinks 'tis naufeous, and I'd ne'er endure
The needlefs pomp of- gaudy furniture.
A little garden, grateful to the eye,
And a cool rivulet run murm'ring by,
On whofe delicious banks a flately row
Of fhady limes or fycamores fhould grow;
At th' end of which a filent ftudy plac'd,
Should be with alt the nobleil authors grac'd :
Horace and Virgil, in whofe mighty lines
Immortal wit and fotid learning faines ;
Sharp Juvenal, and am'rous Ovid too,
Who all the turns of love's foft paffion kivew ;
He that with judgment reads his charming lines,
In which ftrong art with ftronger nature joins,
Muft grant his fancy does the beft excel,
His thoughts fo tender, and exprefs'd fo well ;
With all thofe moderns, men of fteady fenfe,
Efteem'd for learning and for eloquence.
In fome of thefe, as Fancy fhould advifc,
I'd always take my morning exercife ;
For fure no minutes bring us more content,
Than thofe in pleafing ufeful ftudies fpeut!
I'd have a clear and competent eftate,
That I might live genteelly, but not great;
As much as I could moderately fpend
A little more, fometimes t' oblige a friend.
Nor fhould the fons of Poverty repine
Too much at Fortune, they fhould tafte of mine ;
And all that objects of true pity were,
Should be reliev'd with what my wants could fpare :
3 M 2 For
460 B-EAUTIES OF POETRY.
For that our Maker has too largely giv'n,
Should he return'd in gratitude to Heav'n.
A frugal plenty fhould my table fpread,
With healthy, not luxurious, dimes fed ;
Enough to Satisfy and fomething more,
To feed the ftranger and the neighb'ring poor.
Strong meat indulges vice, and pamp'ring food
Creates difeafes, and inflames the blood:
But what's fufficient to make nature ftrong,
And the bright lamp of life continue long,
I'd freely take ; and, as I did poflefs,
The bounteous Author of my plenty blefs.
I'd have a little vault, but always ftor'd
V/ith the beft wines each vintage could afford.
Wine whets the wit, improves it's native force,
And gives a pleafant flavour to difcourfe ;
By making all our fpirits debonair,
Throws off the lees, the fediment of care:
But as the greateft bleffing Heaven lends,
May be debauch'd, and ferve ignoble ends;
So, but too oft, the grape's refrefliing juice
Does many mifchievous effefts produce.
My houfe mould no fuch rude diforders know,
As from high drinking confequently flow;
Nor would I ufe what was fo kindly giv'n
To the dishonour of indulgent Heav'n.
If any neighbour came, he ihould be free;
Us'd with refpecl; and not uneafy be,
In my retreat, or to himfelf or me.
What freedom, prudence, and right reafon, give,
All men may with impunity receive :
But the leaft Averving frcm their rule's too much ;
For what's forbidden us, 'tis death to touch.
That life may be more comfortable yet,
And all my joys refin'd, Sincere, and great,
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 461
I'd chufe two friends, whofe company would be
A great advance to my felicity :
Well born, of humours fuited to my own;
Difcreet, and men as well as books have known.
Brave, gen'rous, witty, and exaftly free
From loofe behaviour, or formality.
Airy and prudent; merry, but not light:
Quick in difcerning, and in judging right.
Secret they mould be, faithful to their truft;
Jn reasoning cool, ftrong, temperate, and jull.
Obliging, open; without huffing, bravo :
Brifk in gay talking, and in fober grave.
Clofe in difpute, but not tenacious; try'd
By folid reafon, and let that decide.
Not prone to lull, revenge, or envious hate;
Nor bufy meddlers with intrigues of ftate.
Strangers to flander, and fworn foes to fpite;
Not quarrelfome, but ftout enough to fight.
Loyal and pious, friends to Csefar : true,
As dying martyrs, to their Maker, too.
In their fociety I could not mifs
A permanent, fmcere, fubftantial blifs.
Would bounteous Heav'n once more indulge, I'd chufe
(For who would fo much fatisfaftion lofe
As witty nymphs in converfation give ?)
Near fome obliging, modeft fair, to live ;
For there's that fweetnefs in a female mind,
Which in a man's we cannot hope to find ;
That, by a fecret, but a pow'rful art, -*
Winds up the fpring of life, and does impart C
Frem vital heat to the tranfported heart. 3
I'd have her reafon all her paffion fway ;
Eafy in company, in private gay :
Coy to a fop, to the deferving free ;
Still conftant to herfelf, and juft to me.
A foul
z BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
A foul {he ftiould have for great adioos fit,
Prudence and wifdom to direct her wit :
Courage to look bold Danger in the face ;
No fear, but only to be proud or bafe.
Quick to advife, by an emergence prefs'd ;
To give good counfel, or to take the beft.
I'd have th' expreflion of her thoughts be fuch,
She might not feem referv'd, nor talk too much :
That mews a want of judgment and of fenfe;
More than enough, is but impertinence.
Her condudt regular ; her mirth refin'd ;
Civil to ftrangers, to her neighbours kind :
Averfe to vanity, revenge, and pride ;
In all the methods of deceit untry'd.
So faithful to her friend, and good to all,
No cenfure might upon her adtions fall.
Then would e'en Envy be compell'd to fay,
' She goes the lead of woman-kind aftray.'
To this fair creature I'd fometimes retire;
Her converfation would new joys infpire,
Give life an edge fo keen, no furly care ~
Would venture to aflault my foul, or dare, C
Near my retreat, to hide one fecret fnare. j
But fo divine, fo noble a repaft,
I'd feldom, and with moderation, tafte ;
For higheft cordials all their virtue lofe,
By a too frequent and too bold a ufe ;
And what would chear the fpirits in diftrefs,
Ruins our health when taken to excefs.
I'd be concern'd in no litigious jar ;
Belov'd by all, not vainly popular.
Whate'er afliftance I had pow'r to bring,
T* oblige my country, or to ferve my king,
Whene'er they call'd, I'd readily afford j
My tongue, my pen, my counfel, or my fword.
Law-
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 463
Law-fuits I'd fhun, with as much ftudious care
As I would dens where hungry lions are ;
And rather put up injuries, than be
A plague to him who'd be a plague to me.
I value quiet at a price too great,
To give for my revenge fo dear a rate ;
For what do we by all our buttle gain,
But counterfeit delight for real pain ?
If Heav'n a date of many years would give,
Thus I'd in pleafure, eafe, and plenty, live ;
And as I near approach'd the verge of life,
Some kind relation (for I'd have no wife)
Should take upon him all my worldly care,
Whilft I did for a better ftate prepare.
Then I'd not be with any trouble vex'd,
Nor have the ev'ning of my days perplex'd ?
But, by a filent and a peaceful death,
Without a figh refign my aged breath :
And when committed to the duft, I'd have
Few tears, but friendly, dropp'd into my grave.
Then would my exit fo propitious be,
All men would wifh to live and die like me.
THE BOWLING-GREEN.
BY MR. SOMERVILLE.
WHERE fair Sabrina's wand'ring currents flow,
A large fmooth plain extends it's verdant brow ;
Here, ev'ry morn, while fruitful vapours feed
The fwelling blade, and blefs the fmoking mead,
A cruel tyrant reigns like Time, the fwain
Whets his unrighteous fcythe, and maves the plain:
Beneath each ftroke the peeping flow'rs decay.
And all th' uuripen'd crop is fwept away,
Tfre
464 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
The heavy roller next he tugs along,
Whiffs Ms flicrt pipe, or rears a rural fong ;
With curious eye then the prefs'd turf he views,
And ev'ry rifing prominence fubdues.
Now, when each craving ftomach was well-ftor'd,
And Church and King had travell'd round the board,
Hither, at Fortune's fnrine to pay their court,
With eager hopes the motley tribe refort.
Attornies fpruce, in their plate-button'd frocks ;
And rofy parfous, fat and orthodox :
Of ev'ry feet, whigs, papifts, and high-flyers ;
Cornuted aldermen, and hen-peck'd fquires ;
Fox-hunters, quacks, fcribblers in verfe and profe;
And half-pay captains, and half-witted beaus.
On the green cirque the ready racers ftand,
Difpos'd in pairs, and tempt the bowler's hand ;
Each polifh'd fphere does his round brother own,
The twins diflinguifti'd by their marks are known.
As the ftrong rein guides the well-manag'd horfe,
Here weighty lead infus'd directs their courfe :
Thefe in the ready road drive on with fpeed,
But thofe in crooked paths more artfully fucceed.
So the tall fhip, that makes fome dang'rous bay,
With a fide-wind obliquely flopes her way.
Lo! there the Silver Tumbler fix'd on high,
The victor's prize, inviting ev'ry eye !
The champions or confeut or chance divide, -\
While each man thinks his own the furer fide, t
And the Jack leads, the fkilful bowler's guide. 3
Bendo flripp'd firil from foreign coafts he brought
A chaos of receipts, and anarchy of thought ;
Where the tumultuous whims, to faction prone,
Still juilled monarch Reafon from her throne :
More dang'rous than the porcupine's his quill,
Juur'd to {laughter, and fecure to kill.
Let
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 465
Letloofe, juft Heav'n! each virulent difeafe.
But fave us from fuch murderers as thefe !
Might Bendo live but half a patriarch's age,
Th' unpeopled world would fmk beneath his rage ;
Nor need, t' appeafe the juft Creator's ire,
A fecond deluge, or confuming fire.
He winks one eye, and knits his brow fevere,
Then from his hand launches the flying fphere ;
Out of the green the guiltlefs wood he hurl'd,
Swift as his patients from this nether world :
Then grinn'd malignant ; but the jocund crowd
Deride his fenfelefs rage, and fhout aloud.
Next, Zadock, 'tis thy turn, imperious prieft !
Still late at church, but early at a feaft.
No turkey-cock appears with better grace ;
His garments black, vermilion painta his face :
His wattles hang upon his ftiffen'd band, -j
His platter feet upon the trigger ftand,
He grafps the bowl in his rough brawny hand : 3
Then fquatting down, with his grey goggle eyes,
He takes his aim, and at the mark it flies.
Zadock purfues, and wabbles o'er the plain ;
But makes his ftrutting paunch, and ambles on in vain :
For, oh ! wide erring, to the left it glides ;
The inmate lead the lighter wood mifguides.
He (harp reproofs with kind entreaties joins.
Then on the counter fide with pain reclines.
As if he meant to regulate it's courfe,
By pow'r attractive and magnetick force.
Now, almoft in defpair, he raves, he ftorms,
Writhes his unwieldy trunk in various forms.
Unhappy Proteus ! ftill in vain he tries ~
A thoufand fhapes ; the bowl erroneous flies, I
Deaf to his pray'rs, regard lefs of his cries: J
His puffing cheeks with ri/ing rage inflame,
And all his fparkling rubies glow with lhame.
3 N Bendo'a
t66 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Bendo's proud heart, proof againft Fortune's frown,
Refolves once more to make the prize his own r
Cautious he plods, furveying- all the green,
And meafures with his eye the fpace between.
But as on him 'twas a peculiar curfe
To fall from one extreme into a wovie ;
Confcious of too much vigour, now for fear
He fliould exceed, ,at hand hs checks the fphere.
Soon as he found it's languid force decay,
And the too weak impreifion die away,
Quick after it he lends ; urges behind,
Step after Hep ; and now, with anxious mind,
Hangs o'er the bowl, flow-creeping on the plain,
And chides it's fkint ciTorts, and bawls amain :
Then on the guiltlcfs green the blame to lay,
Curfes the mountains that obftruft his way ;
Brazens it out with an audacious face,
His infolence improving by difgrtce.
Zadock, who now with three black mugs had chear'd
His drooping heart, and his funk fpirits rear'd,
Advances to the trigg with folemn pace,
And ruddy hope fits blooming on his face.
The bowl he pois'd ; with pain his hams he bends;
On well-chofe ground unto the mark it tends :
Each adverfe heart pants with unufual fear,
With joy he follows the propitious fphere.
Alas ! how frail is ev'ry mortal fcheme !
We build on fand, car happinefs a dream.
Bendo's ftiort bowl flops the proud vigor's courfe,
Purloins his fame, and deadens all it's force.
At Benlo from eacii corner of his eyes
He darts malignant rays, then muttering flies
Into th~ be/.' r; there, panting and ha'f dead,
In thick mandungus clouds he hides his head.
JVIufe ! raife thy voice ; to win :he glorious prize,
.iiu .ill the fury of the battle rue.
Thefe
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 467
Thefe but the light-arm'd champions of the field ;
See Griper there, a veteran well ficill'd !
This able pilot knows to ftecr a caufe
Thro' all the rocks and {hallows of the laws ;
Or if 'tis wreck'd, his trembling client faves
On the next plank, and difappoints the waves.
In this, at lead, all hiftories agree,
That tho' he loft his caufe he fav'd his fee. ,
When the fat client looks in jovial plight,
How complaifant the man ! each point how right !
But if th' abandon'd orphan puts his cafe,
And poverty fits fhrinking on his face
How like a cur he fnarls, when at the door
For broken fcraps he quarrels with the poor !
The farmer's oracle, when ren. -day's near,
And landlords, by forbearance, are fevere ;
When huntfmcn trcfpafs, or his neighbour's fwine ;
Or tatter'd Crape extorts, by right divine.
Him all the rich their contributions pay,
Him all the poor with aching hearts obey !
He in his fwan-fkin doublet itruts along;
Now begs, and now rebukes the prefling throng.
A pafTage clcar'd, he takes his aim with care,
And gently from his hand lets loofe the fphere :
Smooth as a fwallow o'er the plain it flies,
While he purfues it's track with eager eyes ;
It's hopeful courfe approv'd, he fhouts aloud,
Claps both his hands, and juilles through the crowd.
Hov'ring a while, foon at the mark it flood,
Hung o'er inclin'd, and fondly kifs'd the wood.
Loud is th' applaufe of ev'ry betting friend,
And peals of clam'rous joy the concave rend:
But in each hoftile face a difmal gloom
Appears, the fad prefage of lofs to come.
'Mong thefe Trebellius, with a mournful air
Of livid hue, juft dying with defpair,
3 N 2 Shuffles
468 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Shuffles about, fcrews his chop-fallen face,
And no whipp'd gig fo often mifts his place ;
Then gives his fage advice with wondrous /kill,
Which no man ever heeds, or ever will :
Yet he perfifts, inftrufting to confound,
And with his cane points out the dubious ground.
Strong Nimrod now, frefh as the rifmg dawn,
Appears ; his fmewy limbs and folid brawn
The gazing crowd admires. He nor in courts
Delights, nor pompous balls ; but rural fports
Are his foul's joy. At the horn's briflc alarms
He (hakes th' unwilling Phillis from his arms ;
Mounts with the fun, begins his bold career,
To chafe the wily fox or rambling deer.
So Hercules, by Juno's dread command,
From favage beafts and monfters freed the land.
Hark ! from the covert of yon gloomy brake
Harmonious thunder rolls, the forefts make !
Men, boys, and dogs, impatient for the chace,
Tumultuous tranfports flulh in ev'ry face !
With ears ereft the courfer paws the ground,
Hills, vales, and hollow rocks, with chearing cries refound,
' Drive down the precipice, brave youths ! with fpeed ;
' Bound o'er the river banks, and frnoke along the mead !"
But whither would the devious Mufe purfue
The pleafing theme, and my paft joys renew ?
Another labour now demands thy fong.
Stretch'd in two ranks, behold th'expedling throng,
As Nimrod pois'd the fphere. His arm he drew
Back like an arrow in the Parthian yew,
Then launch'd the whirling globe, and full as fwift it flew :
Bowls dam'd on bowls confounded all the plain ;
Safe flood the foe, well-cover'd by his train.
Afiaulted tyrants thus their guard defends,
Efcaping by the ruin of their friends.
But
j
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 469
But now he Hands expos'd, their order broke,
And feems to dread the next decifive ftroke.
So at fome bloody fiege, the pond'rous ball
Batters with ceafelefs rage the crumbling wall,
(A breach once made ;) foon galh the naked town,
Riots in blood, and heaps on heaps are thrown.
Each avenue thus clear'd, with aching heart
Griper beheld, exerting all his art ;
Once more refolves to check his furious foe,
Block up the pafTage, and elude the blow.
With cautious hand, and with Icfs force, he threw *
The well-pois'd Iphere, that gently circling flew ; C
But flopping fliort, cover 'd the mark from view. 3
So little Teucer, on the well-fought field,
Securely fculk'd behind his brother's fliield,
Nimrod, in dangers bold, whofe heart elate
Nor courted Fortune's fmiles nor fcar'd her hate,
Perplex'd, but not difcourag'd, walk'd around, 1
With curious eye examin'd all the ground ; L
Not the leaft op'ning in the front was found. 3
Sideway he leans, declining to the right,
And marks his way, and moderates his might.
Smooth gliding o'er the plain th' obedient fphere
Held on it's dubious road, while hope and fear
Alternate ebb'd and flow'd in ev'ry breaft :
Now rolling nearer to the mark it prefs'd ;
Then chang'd it's courfe, by the ftrong bias rein'd.
And on the foe difcharg'd the force that yet remain'd.
Smart was the ftroke ; away the rival fled :
The bold intruder triumph'd in his (lead.
Victorious Nimrod feiz'd the glitt'ring prize ;
Shouts of outrageous joy invade the fkies :
Hands, tongues, and caps, exalt the victor's fame ;
Sabrina's banks return him loud acclaim.
OF
470 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
OF ENGLISH VERSE.
BY MR. WALLER.
POETS may boaft, as fafely vain,
Their works fhall with the world remain :
Both bound together, live or die ;
The verfes, and the prophefy.
But who can hope his line fhould long
Laft in a daily -changing tongue ?
While they are new, envy prevails ;
And as that dies, our language fails.
When architects have done their part,
The matter may betray their art:
Time, if we ufe ill-chofen ftone,
Soon brings a well-built palace down.
Poets that lafting marble feek,
Muit carve in Latin or in Greek.
We write in fand : our language grows ;
And, like the tide, our work o'erflows.
Chaucer his fenfe can only boaft,
The glory of his numbers loft :
Years have defac'd his matchlefs flrain ;
And yet he did not fmg in vain.
The beauties which adorn'd that age,
The mining fubje&s of his rage,
Hoping they mould immortal prove,
Rewarded with fuccefs his love.
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 471
This was the gen'rous poet's fcope,
And all an Englifti pen can hope ;
To make the FAIR approve his flame,
That can fo far extend their fame.
Verfe, thus defign'd, has no ill fate,
If it arrive but at the date
Of fading beauty if it prove
But as long-liv'd as prefent love.
ON A MISCELLANY OF POEMS.
TO BERNARD L 1 N T O T T
BY MR. G A Y.
Ipfa varietate tentamus efficere ut alia aliis ; quaedam fortafle omnibus placeant.
FLIN. EPIS 1 .
AS when fome fkilful cook, to pleafe each gueft,
Would in one mixture comprehend a fealt,
With due proportion and judicious care,
He fills his dim with diff'rent forts of fare ;
Fifties and fowls delicioufly unite,
To feaft at once the tafle, the fmell, and fight :
So, Bernard ! mull a Mifcellany be,
Compounded of all kinds of poetry ;
The Mufes olio, which all taftes may fit,
And treat each reader with his darling wit.
Wouldfl thou for mifcellanies raife thy fame,
And bravely rival Jacob's mighty name,
Let all the Mufes in the piece confpire:
The Lyrick Bard mufl ftrike th' harmonious lyre ;
Heroick ftrains muft here and there be found,
And nervous fenfe befungin lofty found.
Let
472 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
Let Elegy in moving numbers flow,
And fill Come pages with melodious woe:
Let not your am'rous fongs too num'rous prove,
Nor glut thy reader with abundant love.
Satire mult interfere, whofe pointed rage
May laih the madnefs of a vicious age :
Satire, the Mui> that never fails to hit ;
For if there's fcandal, to be fure there's wit.
Tire not our patience with Pindarick lays ;
Thofe fwell the piece, but very rarely pleafe :
Let fhort-breath'd Epigram it's force confine,
And ftrike at follies in a fmgle line.
Tranflations mould throughout the work be fown,
And Homer's godlike Mufe be made our own :
Horace in ufefal numbers mould be fung,
And Virgil's thoughts adorn the Britifh tongue.
Let Ovid tell Corinna's hard difdain,
And at her door in melting notes complain :
His tender accents pitying virgins move,
And charm the lift'ning ear with tales of love.
Let ev'ry claffick in the volume mine,
And each contribute to thy great dengn :
Thro' various fubje&s let the reader range,
And raife his fancy with a grateful change.
Variety's the fonrce of joy below,
From whence ftill frem-revolving pleafures flow.
In books and love the mind one end purfues,
And only change th' expiring flame renews.
Where Buckingham will condefcend to give,
That honour'd piece to diftant times muft live :
When noble Sheffield ftrikes the trembling firings,
The little loves rejoice, and clap their wings
' Anacreon lives !' they cry ; ' th' harmonious fwain ^
' Retunes the lyre, and tries his wonted ftrain : C
* 'Tis he our loft Anacreon lives again !' 3
Bat
BEAUTIES OF POETRY. 473
But when th' illuftrious poet foars above
The fportive revels of the god of love,
Like Maro's Mufe he takes a loftier flight,
And tow'rs beyond the wond'ring Cupid's fight.
If thou wouldft have thy volume ftand the teft,
And of all others be reputed beft,
Let Congreve teach the M'ning groves to mourn,
As when he wept o'er fair Paftora's urn.
Let Prior's Mufe with foft'ning accents move,
Soft as the ftrains of conftant Emma's love ;
Or let his fancy chufe fome jovial theme,
As when he told Hans Carvel's jealous dream :
Prior th' admiring reader entertains
With Chaucer's humour and with Spencer's ftrains.
Waller in Granville lives: when Mira fings,
With Waller's hand he ftrikes the founding firings ;
With fprightly turns his noble genius mines,
And manly fenfe adorns his eafy lines.
On Addifon's fweet lays attention waits,
And filence guards the place while he repeats :
His Mufe alike on ev'ry fubjeft charms,
Whether me paints the god of love or arms :
In him pathetick Ovid fings again,
And Homer's Iliad mines in his Campaign.
Whenever Garth mall raife his fprightly fong,
Senfe flows in eafy numbers from his tongue;
Great Phoebus in his learned fon we fee,
Alike in phyfick as in poetry.
When Pope's harmonious Mufe with pleafure rove*
A mid ft the plains, the murm'ring ftreams and groves,
Attentive Echo, pleas'd to hear his fongs,
Thro' the glad (hade each warbling note prolongs ;
His various numbers charm our ravifh'd ears, %
His fteady judgment far outfhoots his years, >
And early in the youth the god appears. j
3 O From
474 BEAUTIES OF POETRY.
From thefe fuccefsful bards colled thy ftrains,
And praife with profit {hall reward thy pains :
Then, while calves-leather binding bears the fway,
And meep-flcin to it's flecker glofs gives way ;
While neat old Elzivir is reckon'd better
Than Pirate Hill's brown fheets and fcurvy letter $
While print-admirers careful Aldus chufe,
Before John Morphew, or the weekly news ;
So long mail live thy praife in books of fame,
And Tonfon yield to Lintott's lofty name.
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
*J^
CONTENTS.
VOL. I.
Page.
INTRODUCTORY Addrefs i
The Female Seducers 4
The Rofciad 19
A Night-Piece 50
The Death of Arachne 51
A Father's Advice to his Son 58
Elegy on the melancholy Event of a licentious Amour 6
Epiftle to the Rev. Mr. Madan, on Polygamy 66
Damon to Delia 70
The Pari/h Cltrk 7>
Elegy on a Pile of Ruint 77
The Three Warnings 8z
Letter from Cambridge to a young Gentleman at Eton School 86
To Mrs. Gillman 89
Hiftory of Porfenna, King of Ruflia 90
Windfor Foreft 116
Hymn to the Creator iz8
The Pleafures of Contemplation 119
Verfes addrefled to the Prince of Walep 13*
The Progrefs of Poetry 135
Elegy in a Country Church- Yard 145
A Paftoral Ballad. In Four Parts. 148
The Partridges 156
The Squire and Parfon 157
The Poor Man's Prayer 161
Epiftle from Lord William RufTel to Lord William Cavendilh 1 6 5
The Winter's Walk 176
Account of a Journey to Ireland 177
3 O a Prayer
CONTENTS.
Page.
Prayer for Indifference 183
The Fairy' s Anfwer 1 8 6
To a Lady before Marriage 188
The Cit's Country Box 191
The Houfe of Superftition 195
Dunnotter Caftle 200
Elegy on the Death of Lady Coventry 203
The Seafons 207
Verfes to a young Lady 214
Retirement 215
Amyntor and Theodora 2 1 8
Laura 158
Fine Sights 265
The Contented Philofopher 267
The Bailard 270
Robin 273
To Lady Anne Coventry, on viewing her Shell-Work 276
The Young Widow 27?
On Occafion of the Peace 280
Aminta 284
The African Prince 287
Zara's Anfwer 293
On Nafli's Pi&ure 298
Amabella 299
A Britifti Philippick 304
To a Lady, on a Landfcape of her drawing 309
Hymn to Solitude . 311
Cooper's Hill 314
Pollio 324
Ode to Independence 329
Ode to a Singing Bird 334
Elegies 33*
Death 34*
The Genealogy of (Thrift 35
To Winter 3S 8
The Hermit 3 6
The Enthufiaft 3&6
The Cure of Saul 369
The
CONTENTS.
Page.
The Birth of the Squire 379
The mourning Mufe of Alexis 38*
A Fairy Tale 388
The Fable of Jotham 395
The Transformation of Lycon and Euphormius 397
Love Elegies 403
The Moufe's Petition 4*3
The Indian Philofopher 425
The Force of Religion 427
Effufions of Melancholy 44J
Rofline Caftle 444
Higham Hill 446
Alexander's Feaft 449
Baucis and Philemon 453
The Choice 458
The Bowling- Green 465
Of Englifli Verfe 470
On a MLfcellany of Poems 471
LIST
LIST or AUTHORS.
VOL, I.
Page.
THE EDITOR i
AIKIN, Miss 42$
AKENSIDE 304
BEATTIE 215
BELLAMY 70
BREREWOOD 207
BROWN 369
CAMBRIDGE 395
CANNING 165
CARTER, Miss 50
C , COUNTESS OP 186
CHESTERFIELD 298
CHURCHILL 19
CONGREVE 381
COOPER . 5 g
CUNNINGHAM 77
CUNNINCHAME 267
DELAP 336
DENHAM 314
DENIS 278
DENTONT 195
DOBSO-N 273
DODD 287, 293
DRYDEN 449
EMILY 341
FAWKES 280
GAY 379>4-7
GERRARD 284
GOLDSMITH 360
GRAY
LIST OF AUTHORS.
GRAY
GREVILLE, MRS.
HAMMOND
HAWKESWORTH
JENYNS
JERNINGHAM
JOHNSON
JOHNSTONB
KENRICK
LANGHORNB
LLOYD
LISLE
LITTLETON
LOWTH
MACAULAY
MADAN, MRS.
MALLET
MARRIOTT
MASON
MELMOTH
MENDEZ
MERRICK
MICKLE
MOORE
NICHOLLS
PARNELL
PARRAT
POMFRET
POPE
PRATT
RICHARDSON
ROBERTS
ROBERTS, Miss
SAVAGE
SCOTT, Miss
SHENSTONK
SMOLLET
SOMERVJLLE
Page,
403
299
176
444
165
90
86
350
13*, *I4
103
397
177
128
324
4
446
388
309
458
I if
'5*
334
161
443
470
200
62, 148
3*9
176, 463
SWIFT
LIST OF AUTHORS.
SWIFT
THRALE, MRS.
TICKELL
VERNON
WALLER
WATTS
WHATELY, Miss
WHITEHEAD
WOTY
WYMNE
YOUNG
Page.
45?
7 1
470
4*5
129, 311
366
35*
66
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