But dreams of thee long, livelong nights and days, By Beauty led through all Love's rosy-thornyways.

"To heal his pains soft music does divide Most heavenly melody in soothing strains; Nor heavenly melody, nor aught beside, Save thee, ah dearest Dread! can heal his pains. Thy form too deeply in his breast remains. So ever and anon he chides the gales, That slowly seem to brush the liquid plains; Oh! fly on all the wings of Heav'n, ye sails, Oh fly! he crys; and lo! a lover's pray'r prevails.

"Now cease thy sighs. She comes, (oh blessed day!)

She comes, by all the Loves and Graces drest,
In proud humility. See, Hymen play,
With saffron robe and flame-embroider'd vest,
(Such colours, sikerly", suit Hymen best.)
And Cupid catches rosy wafts of air

To stretch the sails and fan the royal guest.
Nor Chastity, meek-ey'd, is wanting there,

"O blessed youth! receive thy bonnibel, Eternal fount of virtue, love and grace! O kneel to all the gods and pray to all, Who sparkle so divinely in her face, And with celestial fires her bosom bless. So shines Aurora in her rich attire, When she Hyperion wou'd fain caress: Gaze all the host of stars, and ail admire, Then twinkle in their urns, and into night retire.

"O blessed maid! receive thy belamour3, With glee receive him and o'erflowing heart: Ne in high monarch's court, ne lady's bow'r, A youth so form'd by Nature and by Art, Conspiring both, e'er cherish'd Cupid's dart. So Phoebus, lusty bridegroom of the sky, With native splendours shines on every part; From east to west his pointed glories fly, He warmeth every heart, he dazzleth every eye.”

Here Thamis ended. Now the goodly train Of all the Naïds, in most comely wise,

A present make of myrtle-girland green,

steer.

"Not Venus, queen of beauty and of bliss So goodly shone, when erst 8 the goddess sprung From Ocean's sparkling foam; sweet nakedness! A thousand Smiles and Loves upon her hung, And all the gods for joy and wonder sung. The Waves so proud the beamy burthen bore Exulting; she, around her, odours flung, And bade the Billows laugh and cease to roar; They gladly her obey, and gently kiss the shore.

"So fair she looks, nay fairer, could it be; Did never mortal man such charms behold In bow'r or hall. Spring waits upon her eye; Lo! Flora has her richest stores out-roli'd Of variable flow'rs and blooming gold. The meadows smile, the birds renew their love And throw themselves in pairs the young and old; All nature glows where-c'er her glances move, And Beauty paints each field, and music fills each grove.

The Graces eke, with laughter-swelling eyes, A rosy-chaplet, steep'd in nectar bring, (The roses gather'd in the morning skies) Then, joining with the Naids, form a ring, And round them deftly daunce, and round them blithly sing.

"As roses and as myrtles kindly weave Their sweets in one, much sweeter as they blend; Emblem of marriage-love! So you, receive Sweets interchang'd, and to each other lend; Then, in a blest perfume, to Heav'n ascend, And mingle with the gods! While here below, New myrtles, roses new, withouten end, From your luxurious stock, full plenteous, grow, And with their parent-sweets, and parent-beauty glow."

Next Albion's Genius came, bedite in gold, An oaken chaplet nodded on his head; The crown he held was glorious to behold, And royally he taught his feet to tread. Soon as he spy'd the prince's goodly head, He pointed to the crown, and rais'd his voice To hail the royal pair and bless their bed: The jolly Chorus catch the grateful noise, Echo the woods and vales, and Heav'n and Earth rejoice.

Next Liberty, the fairest nymph on ground; The flowing plenty of her golden hair Diffusing lavishly ambrosia round; Her hands a flow'ry cornucopia bear, Which scatters joy and pleasaunce through the air. Earth smil'd, and Gladness danc'd along the sky; Before her vanish'd Grief and pale-ey'd Care, And eft, in courteous guise, she cast her eye On that same gentle twain, her glory and her joy.

And these beside, a sacred pers'nage came, Immaculate and sweet as Sharon-rose: Upon her breast a bloody cross did flame, Aumail'd with gold and gems in goodly rows: A pall of lawn adown her shoulders flows:

2 Beautiful virgin. 3 Charming lover. 4 Often.

Yelep'd' Eusebia. She pray'd aloud,
Then, blessing both, for her defenders chose,
And sphear'd her glories in a purple cloud:
Softly Augusta smil'd, full lowly Frederic bow'd.

Fair Fame behind a silver trumpet blew,
Sweet to the Earth, and fragrant to the sky!
Her mantle of a many-colour'd hue,

Her rain-bow wings pouder'd with many an eye,
And near her Honour, Pow'r and Courtesy:
Honour of open front, and steady grace;
Pow'r, clad in steel, a faulchion brandish'd high;
Courtesy drest in smiles her bounteous face:
When these attend a prince, thrice happy sub-
jects case!

The Muses clos'd this intellectual scene
From Helicon; who knows not Helicon?
Gold were their lyres, their laurels ever-green.
Soon Clio to the prince a starry crown
Presents, another to his bellibone6.
Then all in lofty chorus swell the song,
Big with their happy loves and great renown.
Prophetic numbers float the woods emong,
For shepherd-lad too high, for memory too long.

Nathless thy tuneful sons, O Oxford dear!
By Muses visited, may catch the lays,
Sweet-pouring streams of nectar on the ear,
And from their lips, in vision, learn to raise
Their loves and fame, to brighten future days.
Thee fits not, Thomalin, a simple swain,
High deeds to sing, but gentle roundelays:
Go feed thy flock, renew the rural strain

On caten pipe, content to please the humble plain.

And, as th' harmonious charmer sings,
In triumph points his darts, and waves his wings,
Th' harmonious charmer paus'd to see

A list'ning, wond'ring deity;

While Silence softly chain'd her tongue,
The god responsive rais'd the song,
In strains like these, if strains can be
Rais'd to the raptures of a deity,
The raptures of a wond'ring deity!

AIR III,

Beauty, sacred beauty sing, Flowing from the wond'rous spring Of uncreated and primeval light!

Beauty the first best work of God, Spoke into being in his high abode, And next his own eternal essence bright! AIR IV.

With Beauty Music join,

The breath of Heav'n

To mortals given

To swell their bliss to bliss divine!
With Beauty Music join.

CHORUS.

Beauty, silent Harmony!
Softly stealing through the eye

Smiles into the breast a dart. Music, fine proportion'd sounds! Pours balm upon the lover's wounds Through the ear into the heart.

RECITATIVE.

Thus once Cecilia, (tuneful Dryden sings,)
To fire with sacred rage her soul,
Touch'd into voice the sprightly strings,
And bade the silver tides of music roll.
An angel, list'ning to her lyre,
To lift the modulations higher,
Apply'd the aiding graces of his tongue;
And while the virgin play'd, the seraph sung.

AIR V.

Sweetest mortal, to befriend thee,

Angels from their quires attend thee, Angels leave their thrones to hear Music with devotion glowing, Music heavenly joys bestowing, Worthy a seraphic ear!

RECITATIVE.

Again she trembles o'er the silver strings,
The silver strings, exulting to her hand,
Obey the sweet command,

And thus again the angel sings:
(While Silence wav'd her downy wings around,
And Gladness smil'd along the purple skies;
All nature soft'ned at their flows of sound,
And bright'ned at the radiance of their eyes:)

AIR VI.

Harmony, the soul refining!
Beauty, sense, and virtue joining
In a form and mind like thine,
Nobly raise a mortal creature
To a more exalted nature;
We alone are more divine!

1

RECITATIVE.

Rapt'rous thus the angel sung,
Manna melting from his tongue,
Attemper'd to Cecilia's golden lyre:

The blended pow'rs of harmony
Trembled up the willing sky,

And mingled with the seraph's flaming quire.

CHORUS.

How sweet the music, how divine,
When Heaven and Earth in consort join!
O sweet the music! O divine!

AIR VII.

Skill'd the softest notes to sing,
Skill'd to wake the sweetest string,
Dear Ianthe both supplies:
Thee, Cecilia, thee we find
In her form and in her mind,
The angel in her voice and eyes!

CHORUS.

Happy, O beyond expressing!
He who tastes th' immortal blessing
Dear lanthe may bestow!
Beauty in its pride possessing,
Ever loving and caressing,
Music moving,

Bliss improving!

He'll enjoy a heav'n below!
Happy he, beyond expressing?

THE

DESPAIRING MAIDEN.

WITHIN on unfrequented grove
As late I laid alone,
A tender maid in deep distress,

At distance, made her moan.

She cropt the blue-ey'd violet,

Bedew'd with many a tear; And ever and anon her sighs

Stole sadly on my ear.

"Ah faithless man! how cou'd he leave So fond and true a maid?

Can so much innocence and truth
Deserve to be betray'd?

"Alas, my mother (if the dead

Can hear their children groan,) What ills your helpless orphan feels, To sorrow left alone!

"To sorrow left by him I lov'd;

Ah perjur'd and ingrate! Ye virgins, learn the wiles of men, And learn to shun my fate.

"For whom do I these flourets crop, For whom this chaplet twine? Say, shall they glow on Damon's brow, Or fade away on mine?

"But he the blooming wreath will scorn, Who scorn'd my virgin-bloom:

And me-alas! they suit not me,
Unless to deck my tomb.

"How oft the dear perfidious youth Invok'd each pow'r above! How oft he languish'd at my feet, And vow'd eternal love!

"How sweet the minutes danc'd away, All melted in delight!

With him each summer-day was short, And short each winter-night.

"Twas more than bliss I felt:-and now Alas! 'tis more than pain.

Ye soft, ye rosy hours of love,
Return-return again.

"Ah no.-Let blackness shade the night,
When first he breath'd his vows:
The scene of pleasure then-but, ah!
The source of all my woes.

"How cou'd I think so sweet a tongue Cou'd e'er consent to lye?—

'Twas easy to deceive a maid
So soft and young as I.

"And yet he lays the fault on me,
(Where none cou'd e'er be laid,

Unless my loving him too well)

And calls me perjur'd maid.

"The nymphs, who envious saw my charms, Rejoice to see my woe,

And taunting cry, Why did you leave
The youth that lov'd you so?'

"But oh, believe me, lovely youth, Far dearer than my eye,

I love you still, and still will love, Till oh, for you, I die!

"Ev'n though you hate, I doat to death;
My death my truth shall prove.
My latest pray'rs are pray'rs for you,
And sighs are sighs of love."

She ceas'd:-(while Pity from the clouds
Dissolv'd in silent show'rs:)

Then faintly" Damon!" cry'd :—and breath'd
Her soul amid the flow'rs.

THE

DESPAIRING LOVER.

WHEN gloomy November, to Nature unkind,
Both saddens the skies, and oppresses the mind,
By beauty undone, a disconsolate swain
Thus sigh'd his despair to the winds and the rain.

"In vain the wind blows, and in vain the rains beat, [heat; They fan but my flame, without quenching the

drest,

What passionate tenderness bled in my breast: Yet so far was my truth from engaging belief, That she frown'd at my vows, tho' she smil'd at my grief.

Sure never was love so ill-fated as mine;

If a friend shall demand her, what, must I resign?-
Yes, yes, O resign her, be bravely distrest;
And tho' I die unhappy, yet-may he be blest!

And how blest must he be?-Otolive on her charms!
At her wit while he wonders to sink in her arms!
But yet, O my soul, to his friendship be just:
Let him live on her charms;-I'll go down to the
dust.

To the chambers of darkness I gladly will go,
For the light without her is the colour of woe:
Come, Death, then relieve me, my life I resign,
Since the arrows of Love are less friendly than thine.

Ye virgins of Isis, the fair and the young,
Whose praises so often have sweet'ned my tongue,
in pity, when of my sad fate you shall hear,
Ob, houour my grave with a rose and a tear!

Perhaps the dear, beautiful cause of my doom
May steal, by the star-light, and visit my tomb:
My ghost, if one sigh shall but heave in her breast,
Tao' restless without it, contented will rest.

TO THE

AUTHOR OF LEONIDAS, A POEM.

AN EPISTLE.

WARM'D with thy verse, which Liberty inspires,
Which Nature forms.and sacred Reason fires,
I pour a tributary lay. Receive

The honest praise a friend may dare to give.
Most of our poets choose their early theme
A flow'ry meadow, or a purling stream.
Tay genius took a flight above the groves,
The pipe neglected and the rural loves;
To gol-like Newton's praises swell'd thy lyre,
Play'd with the light and grasp'd ethereal fire.
So the young lyric-lark, on trembling wings
O'er meadows warbles, and to shepherds sings,
The youthful eagle, born to nobler sway,
Enjoys the Sun, and boldly faces day.

Next brave Leonidas, with virtue warm'd,
The child of Heav'n and thee! our wonder charm'd:
Our wonder and our silence best can tell

How much he lov'd his Greece, how great he fell. His arm how dreadful, how compos'd his mien! Fierce as a god, and as a god serene.

To find his deeds immortal as his soul!
To shine above each patriot's honour'd name,
Thron'd in thy verse, the temple of his fame!
Rich as the pillars which support the skies,
And bright with wit as Heav'n with starry dies:
As Virtue, firm; as Liberty, sublime;
A monument to mock the rage of Time.

Did Homer, say, thy glowing breast inspire
To sing the Spartan with Athenian fire?
Or Homer's self revives again in thee:
For Grecian chiefs and Grecian wit I see.
His mighty spirit all thy genius guides,
And o'er thy bosom roll his golden tides.

Blest is thy fancy which durst first despise
Gods in machines and bullies from the skies.
Nor Ariosto's fables fill thy page,

Nor Tasso's points, but Virgil's sober rage.
Pure-temper'd fires an equal light maintain,
To warm the reason, not to scorch the brain.
How soft, how strong thy varied numbers move,
Or swell'd to glory, or dissolved to love.
Correct with ease, where all the Graces meet,
Nervously plain, majestically sweet.
The Muses well thy sacrifice repay
Attendant warbling in each heavenly lay!

When Ariana grasps th' abhorred dart,
Each lover bleeds and feels it in his heart.
Ah faithful pair! by inisery improv'd:
Who wou'd not die to love as you have lov'd?
'Like Teribazus gladly I could die

To draw one tear from dear lanthe's eye.
One sigh of hers wou'd recompense my breath,
Wou'd sweeten pain, and sanctify my death.
O might I, while her eyes inflict the wound,
Or her soft lute dissolves a plaintive sound,
Might I, while she inhales my latest breath,
Sink from her arms into the arms of Death!
Then rise, (so pure a wish may be forgiven)
O sweet transition, from her breast to Heav'n!
Forgive this fond excursion of my woe;
Forgive these tears, that will, rebellious, flow;
Forgive these sighs, that will, unbidden, rise,
Till death for ever close her from my eyes.
But thou, blest youth, may thou for ever know
The chaste endearment, and parental glow:
The still, the sacred, the melodious hour,
The morning-closet, and the ev'ning-bow'r.
There, when thy Muse shall let her eagle fly,
And nobly lift a mortal to the sky,
When all th' inspiring God dilates thy soul,
And quick ideas kindle as they roll,
Let British valour thy brave care engage,
With British valour fire the glorious page.
Bid Henry's honours in thy poem glow,
On Edward immortality bestow.

Let Agincourt, let Cressy's well-fought plain
Run purple in thy lines and bleed again;
Britannia then, no more her sons shall mourn,
Extinct, forgotten in the silent urn:

Born on the wings of verse their names shall rise,
Dear to the earth and grateful to the skies.

Hail, Poetry! whose life infusing lays
Bid time roll back and sleeping atoms raise;
Dust into being wake, expand the tomb,
Dead glory quicken, and restore lost bloom:
As God, from mortals heighten to divine,
And give us through eternity to shine!

Glover! thy mind, in various virtue wise,
Each science claims, and makes cach art thy prize.
With Newton soars, familiar to the sky,
Looks Nature through, so keen thy mental eye,
Or down descending on the globe below,
Through humbler realms of knowledge loves to flow.
Promiscuous beauties dignify thy breast,
By nature happy, as by study blest,
Thou, wit's Columbus! from the epic throne
New worlds descry'd, and made them all our own:
Thou first through real Nature dar'd explore,
And waft her sacred treasures to our shore.

The merchant thus, by heav'nly wisdom led, (Each kingdom noted, and each law survey'd) On Britain pours whate'er can serve mankind, Adorn the body, or delight the mind. Spices which blow'd in Araby the blest, And breath'd a Paradise around the east. Unclouded sapphires show their azure sky, Em'ralds with smiling green refresh the eye: Here bleeds the ruby, diamonds sparkle there, To tremble on the bosoms of our fair. Yet shou'd the Sun with ten-fold lustre shine, Exalt with deeper dies the flaming mine, Shou'd softer breezes and more genial skies Bid sweeter spice, in blooming order, rise, Nor gems nor spice cou'd Nature know to name, Bright as thy wit, or fragrant as thy fame.

ODE BRUMALIS:

AD AMICUM OXONIENSEM.

EHEU! sereni mollia tempora Conduntur anni. Fila, puer, lyræ Lascivientis frange: Bruma

Fiebilis officium Camoenæ

Pullata poscit; non salis Attici Hæc flore gaudet. Præterit ocyor Equo Maronis, nec scit uno

Stare loco saliens voluptas.

Quò cessit Umbræ gloria frondeæ ? Quò Serta, mixtis viva coloribus, Ornare non indigna Popi

Marmora, sive comas Ianthæ. Heu Veris ætas occidit aurea, Estatis atque argentea, & ærea Recessit Autumni, severæ

Ferrea sola Hyemis remansit.

Sic vita transit nostra! volantibus Urgetur horis. Quid Sapiens aget, Quid ergo Prudens? Ille, certè, Dona rapit fugientis horæ,

Gratus Deorum cultor. Hyems Virum,
Quem lavit Isis, Flumen Apollinis,
Quem Suada puro melle fovit,

Intrepidum feriet procellis.

Nigrescat æther, pectore candido Pax alba ridet: mugiat Africus, Eurusque; tu, tranquilla Virtus,

Vere tumens, Zephyros reduces.

Tranquilla Virtus, nescia criminis,
Te, Amice, munit, tectum adamantino
Thorace; te non atra bilis

Mente quatit placidâ Novembris.

Nec me November mente hilari quatit,
Tristesque Menses: fallitur improba
Vel Cura Musis, vel Choreis,

Dulcè vices subeunte Baccho.
Horatiani pocula nunc Meri
Grato ore libo, digna labris Jovis!
Nunc intimas & suave Nectar
Ovidii fluit in medullas.

Si grandis inflet Calliope Tubam, Mentem illa semper cantu Heliconio Accendit: Io! me jam aperto Virgilius dedit ire cœlo.

Pompam Theatri visere sæpiùs Garrickus urget, Dramatis Arbiter! Decore, gestu, voce, vultu

Ille oculos capit, ille mentes.

Odi profanos, pace tuâ, jocos, Vanburge,-odi: me gravis attrahit Shakespear, Cothurnati per ævum Omue Pater, Columenque Regni.

Heus!-deme Soccos:-alta Tragadia Jubet:-Cothurnos induit aureos;— Orchestra, majestate adaucta,

Sub pedibus Gradientis horret.

Quod fulmen aures non imitabile Et corda sternit: Terror amabilis Pervadit intùs nos:-Othello!— En rabido tonat ore Othello!

Proh! quantus iræ gurges inæstuat
Spumatque venis! ut tumet in minas!
Quam splendidè bacchatur excors!

Ah! gemit-ah! trepidat-ruensque,
Procumbit heros!-Gaudia sunt nimis
Hæc sæva, Shakespear! Turbinibus sinus
Perflas voluptatis micantes:-

Ferre animus timet hos tumultus.

Mutare Scenam jam lubet.-Ibimus, Quo suavis Otway nos vocat, ibimus, lantba! quamvis, pulchra fletu, Turgidulis redeas ocellis.

Planctus gementum planctibus addere
Est dulce semper. Monimia dolor,
Me teste, guttâ molliore
Sæpè genas, tacitè, fefellit,

O quæ paventum murmura Virginum Questusque mulcent aera Odoribus!— Tu vincis, Otway! corda vincis; Euripidis renovans triumphos.