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The far of Venus ushers in the day,

The first, the loveliest of the train that hine! Ihe star of Venus lends her brightest ray,

When other lars their friendly beams resign. Still in my breast one foft desire remains, Pure as that star, from guilt, from interest

free, Has gentle Delia tripp'd across the plains,

And necd I, Florio, name that wish to thee? While, cloy'd to find the scenes of life the same,

I tune with careless hand my languid lays; Some secret impulse wakes my former flame,

And fires my {train with hopes of brighter

For oh ! pale fickness warrs thy friend away,

For me no more the vernal roses bloom ! I see stern face his ebon wand display ;

Aud point the wither'd regions of the tcmb. Then the keen anguilh from thine eye shall fart,

Sad as thou follow't my untimely bier : " Fool that I was—if friends io soon niuit part,

" To let suspicion intermix a fcar."

EL EGY XIV.

days.

Declining on invitation to visit foreign countries, ka

takes occafion to intimale the advantages of bio

I Nept not long beneath yon rural bowers ;
And lo! my crook' with flowers adorn'd I

see ; Mas gentle Delia bound my crook with Rowers,

And nced I, Florio, name my hopes to thee?

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E L E G Y XIII.

To a Friend, on fome Night secafion franged from

bim.

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EALTH to my friend, and many a chearful

Around his feat may peaceful shades abide ! Smooth flow the minutes, fraught with smiles

away, And, till they crown our union, gently glide. Ah me! too swiftly fleets our vernal blooni !

Loft to our wonted friendship, lost to joy ! Soon may thy breast the cordial wilh resume,

Ere wintry doubt its tender warmth destroy. Say, were it ours, by fortune's wild command,

By chance to meet beneath the torrid zone ; Would's thou rejec thy Damon's plighted hand ? Would's thou with scorn thy once-lov'd friend

disown? Life is that stranger land, that alien clime :

Shall kindred louls forego their social claim ? Launch'd in the vast abyss of space and time,

Shall dark suspicion queneh the generous flame? Myriads of souls that knew one parent mold,

See sadly sever'd by the laws of chance ! Myriada, in time's perennial lift enrollid,

Forbid by fate to ckauge one transient glance ! But we have met where ills of every form,

Where paflions rage, and hurricanes descend : Say, shall we nurse the rage, affist the itorni ?

And guide them to the bosom-of a friend? Yes, we have met--through rapine, fraud, and

wrong Might our joint aid the paths of peace explore ! Why leave thy friend amid the boilterous throng,

Ere death divide us, and we part no more ?
Vol. VII.

THILE others, loft to friendship, lost to

, , Waste their best minutes on a foreign firand, Be mine, with British nymph or swain to rove,

And court the genius of my native land. Dcluded youth! that quits these verdant plains,

To catch the follies of an alien soil ! To win the vice his genuine soul disdains,

Return exultant, and import the spoil ! In vain he boasts of his detested prize;

No more it blooms to British climes convey'd, Cramp'd by the impulse of ungenial skies,

Sce its fresh vigour in a moment fade! Th' exotic folly knows its native clime;

An aukward stranger, if we waft it o'er : Why then these toils, this costly wafte of time,

To spread loft poison on our happy thore ? I covet not the pride of foreign looms;

In search of foreign modes i fcorn to rove ; Nor, for the worthless bird of brighter plumes, Would change the meanest warbler of niy

grove. No distant clime mall servile airs impart,

Or form these limbs with pliant ease to play ; Trembling I view the Gaul's illutive art,

That steals my lov'd rufticity away. 'Tis long since freedom ficd th' Hesperian clime; Her citron groves,

her flower-embroider's shore ; She saw the British oak aspire fublime,

And soft Campania's olive charms no more. Let partial suns nature the wellern mine,

To shed its luftre o'er th’lberian maid; Mien, beauty, shape, O native foil, are thine;

Thy peer els daughters ask no foreign aid. Let Ceylon's envy'd plant perfume the feas,

Till torn to season the Batavian bowl; Ours is the brealt whose genuine ardours plaf,

Nor necu a drug to meliorate the soul.

* The cinnamon.

Let

Let the proud Soldan wound th’ Arcadian groves, | 'Twas good Palemon-near a fhaded pool,

Or with rude lips th' Aonian fount profane ; A group of aged elms umbrageous rose ; The Muse no more by flowery Ladon roves, The flocking rooks, by instinct's native rule,

She seeks her Thomson on the British plain. This peaceful scene, for their asylum, chose. Tell not of realms by ruthless war dismay'd ;

A few small spires to Gothic fancy fair, Ah ! helpless realms that war's oppression feel!

Amid the shades emerging, struck the view; In vain may Austria boast her Noric blade,

'Twas here his youth respir'd its earliest air; If Austria bleed beneath her boatted steel.

'I'was here his age breath'd out its laf adicu. Beneath her palm Idume vents her moan; Rapur'd she once beheld its friendly shade !

One favour'd son engag'd his tenderest care ; And hoary Memphis boasts her tombs alone,

One pious youth his whole affection crown's : The mournful types of mighty power decay'd! In his young breast the virtues 'sprung so fair,

Such charms display'd, such sweets diffus't No crelcent here displays its baneful horns ;

around. Ņo turban'd host the voice of truth reproves ; Learning's free source the sage's breast adorns, But whilft gay transport in his face appears,

And pocts, not inglorious, chaunt their loves. A noxious vapour clogs the poison'd sky; Boast, favour'd Media, boast thy flowery stores;

Blasts the fair crop-.the fire is drown'd in tears, Thy thousand hues by chemic suns refin'd

And, scarce surviving, sees his Cyrithio die ! "Tis not the dress or mien thy soul adores,

O'cr the pale corse we saw him gently bend; 'Tis che rich beauties of Britannia's mind.

Heart-chillid with grief-“ My thread, he While Grenville's breast could virtue's stores cry'd, is spun ! afford,

If heaven had meant I should my life extend, What envy'd flota bore so fair a freight?

Heaven had preserv'd my life's support, my The mine compar'd in vain its latent hoard,

fon. The gem its lustre, and the gold its weight.

Snatch'd in thy prime! alas, the stroke were Thee, Grenville, thee with calmest courage

mild, fraught,

Had my frail form obey'd the fate's decree ! Thee the lov'd image of thy native Amore ! Thee hy the virtues arm’d, the graces taught,

Blest were my lot, o Cynthio ! O my child!

Had heaven so pleas’d, and I had dy'd for When shall we cease to boast, or to deplore ?

thee.” Presumptuous war, which could thy life destroy,

Five sleepless nights he stem'd this tide of woes; What shall it now in recompense decrce ? Five irksome funs he saw, through tears,

forWhile friends that merit every earthly joy,

lorn ! Feel every anguish ; feel the loss of thee !

On his pale corse the fixth sad morning rose; Bid me no more a servile realm compare,

From yonder dome the mournful bier was No more the Muse of partial praise arraign;

borne. Britannia fecs no foreign breast fo fair,

'Twas on those downs, by Roman hosts annoy'd, And, if the glory, glories not in vain.

Fought our bold fashers; rustic, unrefin'd! Freedom's plain fons, in martial cares empley'd! They ting'd their bodics, but unmask'd their

mind. ELEGY XV.

'Twas there, in happier times, this virtuous

race,

Of milder merit, fix'd their calm retreat ; In memory of a private family in Worcestershire. War's deadly crimson had forsook the place,

And freedoni fondly lov'd the chosen seat. ROM a lone tower with reverend ivy No wild ambition fir'd their tranquil breast, crown'd,

To swell with empty sounds a spotless namie ; The pealing bell awak'd a tender figh;

If fostering skics, the sun, the shower were Still, as the village caught the waving sound,

blest, A swelling tear distream'd from every eye.

Their bounty spread; their field's extent the So droop'd, I ween, each Briton's breast of old,

fame. When the dull curfew spoke their freedom iled; Those fields, profuse of raiment, food and fire, For, fighing as the mournful accent rollid, Our hope, they cry'd, our kind support is dead! Bade luxury to lavish courts aspire,

They scorn'd to lessen, careless to extend;

And avarice to city-brcasts descend. Written a few years after the time of Capt. None, to a virgin's mind, prefer’d her dower ; Grenville's death, which happened in 1747. The carldom of Temple was not created till 1749.

To fire with vicious hopes a modest heir :

The fire, in place of titles, wealth, or power + The Penns of Harborough.

Align'd lim virtus, and his lot was fair.

They

F

They fpoke of fortune, as fome doubtful dame, | Then learn, ye fair, to fosten splendour's ray;

That sway'd the natives of a distant sphere; Endure the twain, the youth of low degree; From lucre's vigrant fons had learnt her fame, Let meekness join d its temp’rate beam display ;

But never wilh'd to place her banners here. 'Tis the mild verdure that endears the tree.
Here youth's free spirit, innocently gay,

Pity the sandal d swain, the shepherd's boy ;
Enjoy'd the most that innocence can give, He sighs to brighten a neglected name;
Those wholesome sweets that border virtuc's Foe to the dull applause of vulgar joy,
way;

He mourns his lot ; he wishes, merits fame.
Those cooling fruits, that we may taste and In vain to groves and pathless valos we fly;
live.

Ambition there the bow'ry haunt invades;
Their board no strange ambiguous viand bore ; Fame's awful rays fatigue the courtier's eye,
From their own streams their choicer fare they But glean still lovely thro' the chequer'd
drew,

sh des.
To lure the scaly glutton to the hore,

Vainly, to guard from love's unequal chain, The sole deceit their artless bofom knew !

Has fortune rear'd us in the rural groves ; Sincere themselves, ah too secure to find

Should ** * *'s eyes illume the desart plain, The common bofom, like their own, sincere ! Ev'n I may wonder, and ev’n I must love. 'Tis its own guilt alarms the jealous mind;

Nor unregarded lighs the lowly hind ; 'Tis her own poifen bids the viper fear.

Though you contemn, the gods respect bis
Sketch'd on the lattice of th' adjacent tane,

VOW ;
Their suppliant bults implore the reader's Vindictive rage awaits the scornful mind,
prayer:

And vengeance, too severe ! the gods allow.
Ah gentle souls, enjoy your blissful reign, On Sarum's plain I met a wand'ring fair,
And let frail morcals claim your guardian care.

The look of sorrow, lovely till she bare :
For sure, to b'issful realms the fouls are flown, Loose flow'd the soft redundance of her hair,

That never flatter'd, injur'd, censur'd strove ; And, on her brow, a flow'ry wreath she wore. The friends of science! music, all their own;

Oft stooping as she ftray'd she cull'd the pride Music the voice of virtue and of love!

Of ev'ry plain ; fhe pillag'd ev'ry grove !
The journeying peasant, through the secret The fading chaplet daily she supply'd,
shade,

And stijl her hand some various garland wove.
Heard their soft lyres engage his listening ear ; Erroneous fancy shap'd her will attire;
And haply deem'd lome courteous angel play'd, From Bethlem's walls the poor lymphatic
No angel play'd—but might with transport

stray'd
hear.

Scem'd with her air her accent to conspire,
For these the sounds that chase unholy Atrife When, as wild fancy taught her, thus the said:
Solve envy's charm, ambitious wretch release!

Hear dear yonth! oh hear an hapless maid,
Raise him to fpurn the radiant ills of life

Sprung from the scepter'd line of ancient kings! To pity pomp, to be content with peace. Scorn's by the world, I ask thy tender aid; Farewel, pure spirits ! vain the praise we give, Thy gentle voice thall whilper kinder things.

The praise you fought from lips angelic flows; The world is frantic-iy the race profaneFarewel! the virtues which deserve to live,

Nor 1, nor you, fhall its compaffion more; Deserve an ampler bliss than life bestows.

Come friendly let us wander, and complain, Last of his race, Palemon, now no more

And tell me, shepherd ! haft thou seen my love; The modest mcrit of his line display'd ;

My love is yoụng—but other loves are young;
Then pious Hough Vige. nia's mitre wore-

And other loves are fair and so is mine;
Soft Altep the dust of cach deserving shade. An air divine discloses whence he sprung;

He is my love, who boals that air divine.
No vulgar Damon robs me of my reft,

lanthe listens to no vulgar vowe; EL EGY XVI.

A prince, from gods descended, fires her breast;

A brilliant crown distinguishes his brow.

What shall I stain the glories of my race?
He furggoffs tbe advantages of birth to a person of me-

More clear, more lovely bright than Helper's rit, and the folly of a superciliousness that is built

bcam? upon that fole foundation.

The porcelain pure with vulgar dirt debase?

Or mix with puddle the pellucid fiream?
HEN genius grac'd with lineal splendor See through these veins the fappire current line!

glows,
When title shines, with ambient virtues

'Twas Jove's own nectar gave ihctherial hue : crown d;

Can hafe plebeian forms contend with mine! Like some fair almond's flow'ry pomp it shews,

Display the lovely white, or match the blue? The pride, the perfume of the regions round.

The

me,

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The painter strove to trace its azure ray ; No trivial blast impells the passive air ;

He chang'd his colours and in vain he strove; But brews a tempest in a breast like mint: He frown'd- smiling view'd the faint essay; What bands of black ideas spread their wings! Poor youth! he little knew it flow'd from

The peaceful regions of content-invade!
Jove.

With deadly poison taint the crystal (prings! Pitying his toil, the wondrous truth I told;

With noisome vapour blast the verdant shade! How amorous Jove trepand a mortal fair;

I know their leader, spleen; and dread the sway How through the race the enerous current roli'd,

Of rigid luru , his detested fire ; And mocks the poet's art, and painter's care.

Through one my blossoms and my fruits decay; Yes, from the gods, from carliest Saturn sprung Through one my pleasures and my hopes ex.

Our sacred race; through demigods, convey'd ; pire. And he, ally'd to Phæbus, ever young,

Like some pale stripling, when his icy way My god-like boy, muft wed their duteous

Relenting yields beneath the noontide beam, naid.

I stand aghait; and chill'd with fcar survey Oft when a mortal vow profanes my ears,

How far I've tempeed life's deceitful stream! My fire's dread fury murmurs through the sky; Where, by remorse impell’d, répuls'd by fears, And should I yield-his instant rage appears, Shall wretched fancy a retreat explore ?

He darts th' up-lifted vengeance and I die. She flies the sad presage of coming years, Have you not heard unwonted thunders roll! And sorrowing dwells on pleasures now a.

Have you not seen more horrid lightnings glare ! more! 'Twas then a vulgar love enfnar'd my soul:

Again with patrons and with friends the roves; 'Twas then-I hardly scap'd the fatal snare.

But friends and patrons never to return ! 'Twas then a peasent pour'd his amorous vow, She sees the nymphs, the graces, and the loves, All as I listend to his vulgar ftrain ;

Bur fees them, weeping o'er Lucinda's urn. Yet such his beauty-would my birth allow, She visits, Isis ! thy forsaken stream, Dear were the youth, and blissful were the Oh ill forsaken for Bæorian air! plain.

She deems no food reflects to bright a beam, But oh! I faint! why was es my vernal bloom, No reed fo verdant, and no flowers so fair.

In fruitless searches ever doom'd to rove? She dreams beneath thy sacred shades were peace, My nightly dreams the toilfome path resume,

Thy bays might ev’n the civil storm repel; And I shall die-before I find my love.

Reviews thy social bliss, thy learned case, When last I slept, methought my ravished eye, And with no chearful accent cries, farewel!

On distant heights his radiant form surveyed; Farewel, with whom to these retreats 1 stray'd ! Though night's thick clouds encampafied all the

By youthful sports, by youthful toils ally'd ! sky, The gems that bound his brow, dispell’d the Joyous we sojourn'd in thy circling fhade,

And wept to find the paths of life divide. shade.

She paints the progress of my rival's vow ; O how this bofom kindled at the fight!

Sees every Muse a partial ear incline ; Led by their beams I urg'd the pleasing chase! Binds with luxuriant bays his favour'd brow, Till, on a sudden, thefa with-held their light

Nor yields the refuse of his wreath to mine. All, all things envy the sublime embrace.

She bids the lattering mirror, form'd to pleasc, But now no more--behind the distant grove, Now blast my hope, now vindicate despair ; Wanders my destin'd youth and chides ny

Bids my fond verse the love-fick parley ccase; stay:

Accuse my rigid fate, acquit my fair. See, fee, he grasps the steel--forbçar, my love

Where circling rocks defend some pathlefs vale, santhe comes; thy princess haftes away.

Superfluous mortal, let me ever rove ! Scornful she spoke, and heedless of reply

Ålas, there echo will repeat the tale The lovely maniac bounded o’er the plain; Where snall I find the silent scenes I love? The pitious victim of an angry sky, Ah me! the victim of her, proud disdain !

Fain would I mourn my luckless fate alone ;

Forbid to please, yet fated to admire;

Away my friends ! my sorrows are my own! E LEG Y XVII.

Why should I breathe around my fick desire ?

Bear me, ye winds, indulgent to my pains, He indulges the suggestions of spleen :

Near some sad ruin's ghaftly shade to dwell! An elegy to tie winds.

There let me fondly eye the rude remains, “ Æole, namque tibi divům pater atque homi

And from the niouldering refuse, build my cell!

Genius of Rome! thy prostrate pomp display! « Et mulcere dedit mentes & tollere vento." Trace every dismal proof of fortune's power; TERN monarch of the winds, admit my

Let me the wreck of theatres survey, prayer !

Or pensive sit bencath fome nedding tower. A while thy fury check, thy storm confine !

Or

num rex

S

Or where fome duct, by rolling seasons worn, Ah! what avails the timorous lambs to guard,

Convey'd pure streams to Rome's impcrial wall, Though nightly cares, with daily labours, join? Near the wide breach in silence let me mourn; If foreign sloth obtain the rich reward, Or tune my dirges to the water's fall.

If Gallia's craft the ponderous fleece purloin. Genius of Carthage! paint thy ruin'd pride; Was it for this, by constant wigils worn,

Towers, arches, fanes, in wild confusion strewn, I met the terrors of an early grave;
Let banish'd Marius, lowering by thy side, For this I led them from the pointed thorn ?

Compare thy fickle fortunes with his own. For this I bath'd them in the Lucid wave?
Ah no! thou monarch of the storms! forbear! Ah heedless Albion! too benignly prone

My trembling nerves abhor thy rude controul; Thy blood to lavish, and thy wealth resign! And scarce a pleasing twilight fooths my care, Shall every other virtue grace thy throne, Ere one vast death like darkness shocks

my

soul. But quick-ey'd prudence never yet be thine ? Forbear thy ragem on no perennial base

From the fair natives of this peerless hill Is built frail fear, or hopes deceitful pile; Thou gav'lt the sheep that browze Iberian My pains are Aed-my joy resumes its place,

plains: Mould the sky brighten or Melissa smile. Their plaintive cries the faithless region fill,

Their fleece adorns an haughty foe's domains. Ill-fated flocks! from cliff to cliff they stray;

Far from their dams their native guardians far!

Where the soft shepherd, all the livelong day, E LEG Y XVIII.

Chaunts his proud mittress to his hoarse

guittar. He repeats the song of Collin, a discerning foepherd ; But Albion's youth her native fleece despise; lamenting the fate of the woollen manufactory, Unmov'd they hear the pining shepherd's

moan; • Ergo omni fudio glaciem ventosque nivales, In filky folds each nervous limb disguse, " Quo minus eft illis curæ mortalis egestas, Allur’d by every treasure but their own., " A vertes : victumque feres.”

VIRG.

Oft have I hurry'd down the rocky steep,

Anxious, to see the wintry tempest drive; E A R Avon's bank, on Arden's flowery Preserve, said I, preserve your fleece, my sheep! plain,

Ere long will Phillis, will my love arrive. A • tuneful shepherd charm'd the listening

Ere long she came: ah'! woe is me she came! wave;

Rob'd in the Gallic loom's extraneous twine : And sunny Cotsol' fondly lov'd the strain ;

For gifts like these they give their spotless fame, Yet not a garland crowns the shepherd's grave!

Resign their bloom, their ingocence refign. Oh! loft Ophelia! smoothly flow'd the day,

Will no bright maid, by worth, by titles known, To feel his music with my flames agree !

Give the rich growth of British hills to fame? To taste the beauties of his melting lay,

And let her charms, and her example, own To taste, and fancy it was dear to thee.

That virtue's dress, and beauty's are the When, for his tomb, with each revolving year,

fame? I steal the musk-rose from the scented brake,

Will no fam'd chief support this generous I strew my cowslips, and I pay my tear,

maid ? l'll add the myrtle for Ophelia's fake,

Once more the patriot's arduous path resume? shivering beneath a leafless thorn he lay,

-And, comely from his native plains array'd, When death's chill rigour seiz'd his flowing Speak future glory to the British loom? tongue,

What
power

unseen my ravish'd fancy fires ? The more I found his faultering notes decay,

I pierce the dreary shade of future days; The more prophetic truth sublim'd the song.

Sure 'tis the genius of the land inspires, “ Adieu my flocks, he said ! my wonted care To breath my lateit breath in * * *'s praise. By funny mountain, or by verdant fhore !

O might my breach for ***'s praise fufice, May some more happy hand your fold prepare,

How gently should ny dying limos repose ! And may you need your Collin's crook no more!

O might his future glory bless mine eyes, And you, ye shepherds ! lead my gentle sheep ; My ravish'' eyes! how calmly would they To breezy hills or leafy shelters lead;

close ! But if the sky with powers incessant weep,

was born to spread the general joy ; Avoid the putrid moisture of the mead.

By virtue rapt, by party uncontroulid; Where the wild thyme perfumes the purpled heath, Britons for Britain all the crook employ ;

Long loitering there your fleecy tribes.xtend Brisons for Britain's glory fhear the fold." But what avail he maxims I bequeath?

The fruitless gift of an officious friend!

NE

* * *

* Mr. Somervile,

ILEGY

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