« السابقةمتابعة »
O'er her grey roofs, with baneful ivy bound, Or to the laurel'd grove, at times, retire,
The world at once enlighten and adorn ; And dumb Oblivion comes with mended pace. From them diffust), the gentle arts of peace
Sad Learning's genius, with a father's fear, Shot brightening o'er the land, with swift enBeheld the total desolation near :
creale : Beheld the Mules stretch the wing to fly ;
Rough nature soften'd into grace and ease ; And fix'd on heaven his sorrow-streaming eye! Sense grew polite, and science sought to please. From heaven, in that dark hour, commission'd Reliev'd from yor rude scene of party-din,
Where open Balenefs vies with secret Sin, Mild Charity, ev’n there the foremost name..
And safe embower'd in Woburn's airy groves, Swift Pity fiew before her, softly bright;
Let us recall the tiines our taste approves ; At whose felt iniluence, Nature (mild with light. Awaken to our aid the mourning Muse ; “ Hear, and rejoice the gracious Power Through every bosom tender thought infuse ; “ begun
Melt angry Faction into moral fense, « Already, fir'd by me thy favourite fon, And to his guests a Bedford's foul dispense. « This ruin'd seene remarks with filial eyes;
while Spring extends her smiling « And, from its fall, bids fairer fabrics rise.
reig:1, “ Ev's now, behoid! where crumbling frag- Green on the mountain, flowery in the plain ; 6 ments grey,
While genial Nature breathes, from hill and dale, « 'In duft deep-bury'd, loft to memory lay, Health, fragrance, gladness, in the living gale ; “ The column swells, the well-knit arc hes bend, The various softness, stealing through the heart, « The round dome widens, and the roofs ascend! Impressions sweetly focial, will impart.
“ Nor ends the bouity thus: by him beitow'd, When sad Eudocia pours her hopeless woe, « Here, Science thall her richest stores unload. The tear of pity will unbidden flow! “„Wbate'er, long-hid, Philofophy has found; When erring Phocyas, whom wild pasions blind, “ Or the Mute sung, with living laurel crown'd; Holds up himself, a mirror for mankind; “ Or History descry'd, far-looking fage, An equal eye on our own hearts we turn, « In the dark doubtfulness of diftant age ;
Where frailties lurk, where fond affections burn: " These, thy best wealth, with curious choice And, conscious, Nature is in all the fame, c6 combin'd,
We mourn the guilty, while the guilt we blame! « Now treasur'd here, shall form the studious
« mind : “ To wits unborn the wanted succours give, 6. And fire the Bard, whom Genius means to « live,
EPILOGUE “ But, teach thy sons the gentle laws of peace ; « Let low Self-love and pedant-Discord cease : “ Their object Truth, Utility their aim,
BROTHERS, 26 One focjal spirit reign, in all the laine. « Thus aided arts shall with fresh vigour Moot; " Thei ltur'd blossoins ripen into fruit;.
A TRAGEDY, BY DR. YOUNG. • Thy faded star dispense a brighter ray,
woman, sure, the most fevert affliction “ Ard each glad Muse renew her noblest lay,"
Is, from these fellows, point-blank con
tradiction. Our Bard, without-I with he would appear,
Ud! I would give it him--but you shall bear PROLOGUE
Good Sir! quoth l-and curtsey'd as I fpokem Our pit, you know, expects and loves a joke
'Twere fit to bumour them : for, right or wrong, SEIGE OF DAMASCUS
True Britons never like the fame thing long.
To-day is fair---they strut, huff, swear, harangue; SPOKEN BY LORD SANDWICH. Tr-morrow's foul--they sneak afide, and hang.
Is ere a warmpeace ! peace ! is all their cry: THEN arts and arms, beneath Eliza's smile, The peace is made-then, blood! they'll fight Spread wide thivir influence o’er this happy and die.
Gallants, in talking thus, I meant no treason; Agollen reign, uncurft with party rage,
I would have brought, you fee, the-unan to rea1 hat foe to taste, and tyrant of our rage ;
fon. Hre all our learning in a libel lay,
Eut with some folks, 'tis labour loft to ftrive : And all our talk, in politics, or play :
A reasoning mule will neither lead nor drive, The fatefinan oft would foothe his toils with wit, He hum'd, and haw'd; then, waking from his Vlat Spenser sung, and Nature's Shakespeare dream, writi
Cry’d, I mult preach to you his moral scheme.
A scheme, forfooth ! to benefit the nation!
Yet, after all, to give the Devil his due,
VERY DIFFERENT EQUIPAGES.
WHEN this decisive night, at length, apo The Poet in a carriero waggori!
'N modern, as in ancient days, MR, THOMSON'S AGAMEMNON.
See what the Muses have to brag on;
The Player in his own post-chaise ;
ON A CERTAIN LORD'S PASSION FOR A Ours would, by honest ways, that grace
obtain; Would, as a free-born wit, be fairly try'd : And then
let candor, fairly too, decide. He courts no friend, who blindly comes to
JERINA's angel-voice delights; praife; He dreads no fos-but whom his faults may raise. How whimsical her Strephon’s fate,
Indulge a generous pride, that bids him own, Condemn’d at once to like and hate ! He aims to please, by noble nieans alone;
But be the truel, be the kind, By what may win the judgment, wake the heart, Love ! strike har dumb, or make him blind. Jufpiring nature, and directing art ; By scenes, so wrought, as may applause com
A SIMILE IN PRIOR,
APPLIED TO THE SAME PERSON,
EAR Thomas, didst thou never pop
There, Tho!nas, didst thou never see
'Tis but by way of fimilemma And Virtue's last sad strugglings cannot save.
A squirrel spend its little rage, “ As such our fair atteinpt, we hope to see
In jumping round a rolling cage ? “ Our judges, here at least
Mov'd in the or!), pleas’d with the chimes,
The foolish creature thinks it cliinbs; “ One placez--unbias'd yet by party-raç@gm-
But here or there, turn wood or wire, “ Where only honour votes--the British Itags. “ We ask for justice, for indulgence sue :
It never gets two inches higher.
So fares it with this little Peer, '" Our last beit liceace auít proceed from you."
So busy and so bustling here;
THE youth had wit himself, and could afford
A world of nothing in his chat,
Power of the soft and rofy face! Of who said this, and who did that:
The vivid pulse, the ver wil grace, With similies, that never hit;
The spirits when they gayeft thine, Vivacity, that has po wit;
Youth, beauty, pleasure, all are thine! Schemes laid this hour, the next forsaken; O fun of life! whose heavenly ray Advice oft alk'd, but never taken :
Lights up, and chears, our various day, Still whirl'd, by every rising whim,
The turbulence of hopes and fears,, From that to this, from her to him ;
The form of fate, the cloud of years, And when he hath his circle run,
Till Nature, with thy parting light,
Reposes late in Death's calmn might:
Hot riot would his anguilh steep,
Of death, of life, alike afraid;
For ever fied to thady,cell,
Where Temperance, where the Muses dwell; A fesh-fly, that just futters on the wing,
Thou oft art sten, at early daw1), awake to buz, but not alive to fting ;
Slow-pacing o'er tle breezy lawn: Brik where he cannot, backward where he can;
Or on the brow of mountain high,
In filence easting car and eye,
But when the sun, with noontide ray,
Flames forth intolerable day ;
While Heat fits fervent on the plain,
All nature fickening in the blaze :
Thou, 'in the wild and woody maze, Though scandal was his joy, he would not swear: That clouds the valc with umbrage deep, An oatl had made the ladies ftare,
Impendent from the neighbouring steey, At them he duly dress’d, but without passion : wüt find betimes a calm retreat, His only mistress was the fashion.
Where breathing coolness has her feat.
There, plung'd amid the shadows brown,
Attentive, in his airy mood,
To every murmur of the wood:
The warbling hill, the lowing vale ;
The thund:r of the falling oas.
He holds high converse with the de ad "AIR morn ascends: soft zephyr's wing Sages, or Poets. See they rise !
And thadowy kiin before his eyes. Where, sown profusely, herb and flower, Hark! Orpheus ftrikes the lyre again, Of balmy smell, of healing power,
That foitens savages to men: Their fouls in fragrant dews exhale,
Lo! Socrates, the fent of heaven, And breathe freth life in every gale.
To whom its moral will was given, Here, spreads a green expanse of plains,
Fathers and friends of human kind, Where, sweetly pensive, Silepce reigns ;
They form’d the nations, or refin'd; And there, at utmost stretch of eye,
With all that mends the head and heart, A mountain fades into the sky :
Enlightening trutí, adorning art. While winding round, diffus'd and deep,
While thus I mus'd beneath the thade, A river rolls with sounding sweep,
At once the founding breeze was laid : Of hunian art no traces near,
And Nature, by the unknown law, I feem alone with Nature here!
Shook deep with reverential awe. Here are thy walks, O sacred Health!
Dumb filence grew upon the hour;' Tlie monarch’s bliss, the beggar's wealth ; A browner night involv'd the lower: The feasoning of all good below!
When, issuing from the in most wood, The fovereign friend in joy or woe !
Appear'd fair Freedom's genius gnod. O thou, most courted, most defpis'd,
Freedom! fovereign boon of heaven; Ard but in absence duly priz'd!
Great charter, with our being given i
* * *
for which the patriot, and the sage,
And sup, in Middlesex, or Surrey, Have planu'd, have bled through every age ! On coarse cold beef, and Fanny Murray. 59 High privilege of human race,
Thus Cupid--and with such a leer, Beyond a mortal monarch's grace :
You would have sworn 'twas Ligcuier. Who could not give, nor can reclaini,
While Hymen soberly reply'd
Yet with an air of conscious pride :
Thy quiver lin'd with South-sea paper; 60 CUPID AND H YMEN:
Thine arrows feather'd, at the tail,
With India-bonds, for hearts on sale ;
Their other ends too, as is meet,
Tipp'd with gold points from Lombard-street.
These airs of fahionable wit,
And re-assume thy nobler name
He said, and held his torch inclin’d,
Which, pointed fo, still brighter shin'd, 70
5 Behold yon couple, arm in arm,
Whom 1, eight years, have known to charm;
And, while they wear my willing chains,
A god dares swear that theither feigns.
This morn that bound their mutual vow, 75
10 That bleit them first, and blesses now,
They grateful hail ! and from the soul,
With thousands o'er both heads
may And deigns, with silver-Atreaming wave, Till, from life's banquet, either gueft, Th’abodes of earth-born pride to lave,
Embracing, may retire to rest.
80 Aloft in air two gods were soaring ;
15 Come then, all raillery laid aside,
Let this their day serenely glide :
With mine thy serious aiin unite,
And both some proper guests invite ;
That not one minute's running fand
20 May find their pleasures at a stand.
At this severe and fad rebuke,
Erough to make a coxcomb puke ;
Poor Cripid, blushing, shrug'd and winc'd,
Not yet consenting, though convincd : 90
25 For 'tis your witling's greatest terror,
Ev’n when he feels, to own, his error.
Yet, with a look of arch grimace,
He took his penitental face :
95 Dear brother--there be forc'd a yaw
30 To give your grave good souls their way :
That, as true humour was grown scarce,
He chose to see a fober farce;
For, of all cattle and all fowl,
Your folemn-looking afs and owl
35 Rais'd much more mirth, he durft aver it,
Than those jack-puddings, pug and parrot.
He said, and eastward spre d his wing,
From London some few friends to bring.
His brother too, with fober cheer,
40 For the fame end did westward steer ·
But first, a pensive love forlorn,
Who three long weeping years has borne
His torch revers'd, and all around,
Where once it flam'd, with cypress bound, 110
45 Sent of, to call a neighbouring friend,
On whom the mournful traig attend :
And bid him, this one day, at least,
For such a pair, at such a feast,
Stript off the fable veil, and wear
With truth, taste, honour, in a mate, His once-gay look and happier air,
And much good senfe, and some estate. But Hymcı, speeding forward still,
But now, suppose th' assembly met, Cbferv'd a man on Richinond-hill,
And round the table cordial set; Who now first tries a country life ;
While in fair order, to their wish, Perhaps, to ft him for a wife.
Plain neatcess sends up every dir, Eut, though not ntuch on this he reckond, And Pleasure at the side-board stands, The palling god look'dia and beckon'd:
A nedar'd goblet in his hands, He knows him rich in social merit,
To pour libations, in due measure, With independent ta:te and spirit ;
As Reason wills when join'd with Pleasure 190 Though he will laugh with men of whim, Let these white moments all be gay, For feir such inea ihould laug' at liima
Without one cloud of dim allay : But lo, already on his way,
In every face let joy be seen, In due obervance of the day,
As truth fincere, as hope ferene : A friend and favourite of the Nine,
Let Friendship, Love, and Wit combine,
195 Viho can, but feldon cares to shine, 130 To flavour both the meat and wine, And one rcle virtue would arrive at
With that rich relish to each sense,
Which they, and they alone, dispense ;
With warbled air and fellive song :
200 Or in his garden, barring out
135 Then, when at eye, the star of love The noise of every neighbouring rout,
Glows with soft radiance from above, At penfive hour of eve and prime,
And each companionable guest Marks how the various hand of time
Withdraws, replenish'd, not opprest,"
140 My life be such a wedding-day !
WRITTEN AT TUNBRIDGE WELLS, M,DCCLX,
THEN Churchill led his legions on, Plump Comus in a colonel's coat;
still follow'd where he thone. Whom we, this day, expect from far,
And are those triumphs, with the dead, A jolly first-rate man of war ;
All from his house, for ever fed ? On wiom we boldly dare repose,
Not so: by softer surer arms, To meet our friends, or meet our foes.
They yet survive in beauty's charms ; Or comes a brother in his tead?
155 | For, look on blooming Pembroke's face, Strong-body'd too, and strong of head :
Even now be triumphs in his race.
160 True to his mistress and his meat,
AN O DE
Last comes a virgin---pray admire her!
MASQUE OF ALFRED:
SUNG BY A SHEPHERDLSS WHO HAS LOST
Youth, adorn'd with every art,
170 Thieves froin the womb, and train'd at nurse, In secret mine poteft. To steal an heiress or a purse.
The morning bud that faireft blows, No seraping, saving, faucy cit,
The vernal oak that straightest grows, Sworn foe of breeding, worth, and wit;
His face and shape expreft. No hali-form'd insect of a Peer,
175 \ In moving founds he told his tale, With neither land nor conscience clear ;
Soft as the fighings of the gale, Who if he cani, 'tis all he can do,
That wakes the flowery year. Just spell ile motto on his lar.bau.
What wonder he could charm with ease, From all, from cach of these defend her;
Whom happy Nature taught to please, But thou and Hymen both befriend lier, 180' Whom Honour made sincere,
HER LOVER IN THE WARS.