Retires in defert-fcenes to dwell, And bids the joylefs world farewel. Alone he treads th' autumnal shade, Alone beneath the mountain laid, He fees the nightly damps arise, And gathering ftorms involve the skies; He hears the neighb'ring surges roll, And raging thunders shake the pole; Then, ftruck by every object round, And stunn'd by every horrid sound, He pants to traverse nature's ways: His evils haunt him thro' the maze: He views ten thoufand demons rife, To wield the empire of the skies, And Chance and Fate affume the rod, And Malice blots the throne of God. -O thou, whofe pleasing power I fing! Thy lenient influence hither bring; Compofe the ftorm, difpel the gloom, Till Nature wear her wonted bloom, Till fields and fhades their fweets exhale, And mufic fwell each opening gale: Then o'er his breaft thy softness pour, And let him learn the timely hour To trace the world's benignant laws, And judge of that prefiding caufe Who founds in difcord beauty's reign, Converts to pleasure every pain, Subdues the hoftile forms to reft, And bids the univerfe be bleft. O thou, whofe pleafing power I fing! If right I touch the votive string,
If equal praise I yield thy name,
Still govern thou thy poet's flame;
Still with the Muse my bofom fhare,
And footh to peace corroding care.
But most exert thy genial power
On friendship's.confecrated hour:
And while my Agis leads the road
To fearless wisdom's high abode;
Or, warm in freedom's facred cause,
Pursues the light of Grecian laws;
Attend, and grace our gen❜rous toils
With all thy garlands, all thy fmiles.
But if, by fortune's stubborn fway
From him and friendship torn away,
I court the Mufe's healing spell
For griefs that ftill with abfence dwell,
Do thou conduct my fancy's dreams
To fuch indulgent, tender themes
As just the struggling breast may cheer,
And juft fufpend the starting tear ;
Yet leave that charming fenfe of woe,
Which none but friends and lovers know.
ON THE ABSENCE OF THE POETIC INCLINATION.
UEEN of my fongs, harmonious maid,
Why, why haft thou withdrawn thy aid?
Why thus forfook my widow'd breast,
With dark unfeeling damps oppreft ?
Where is the bold prophetic heat,
With which my bofom wont to beat ?
Where all the bright myfterious dreams,
Of haunted fhades and tuneful ftreams,
That woo'd my genius to divineft themes?
Say, can the purple charms of wine,
Or
young
Dione's form divine,
Or flattering scenes of promis'd fame
Relume thy faint, thy dying flame?
Have foft, melodious airs the power
To give one free, poetic hour?
Or, from amidst th' Elyfian train,
The foul of Milton fhall I gain,
To win thee back with fome celestial strain?
O mighty mind! O facred flame!
My spirit kindles at his name;
Again my lab'ring bofom burns;
The Mufe, th' infpiring Muse returns!
Such on the banks of Tyne confeft,
I hail the bright, ethereal guest,
When first fhe feal'd me for her own,
Made all her blissful treasures known,
And bade me fwear to follow Her alone.
TO A FRIEND, ON THE HAZARD OF FALLING
IN LOVE.
[O, foolish boyTo virtuous fàme
If now thy early hopes be vow'd,
If true ambition's nobler flame
Command thy footsteps from the crowd,
Lean not to Love's enchanting fnare ;
His dances, his delights beware,
Nor mingle in the band of young and fair..
By thought, by dangers, and by toils,
The wreath of juft renown is worn ;
Nor will ambition's awful spoils
The flow'ry pomp of ease adorn:
But Love diffolves the nerve of thought;
By Love unmanly fears are taught:
And Love's reward with flothful arts is bought.
True, where the Mufes, where the powers
Of fofter wisdom, eafier wit,
Affift the Graces and the Hours
To render beauty's praise complete,
'The fair may then perhaps impart
Each finer fenfe, each winning art,
And more than schools adorn the manly heart..
If then, from Love's deceit secure,
Such blifs be all thy heart intends,
Go, where the white-wing'd evening-hour
On Delia's vernal walk defcends;.
Go, while the pleafing, peaceful fcene Becomes her voice, becomes her mien, Sweet as her fmiles, and as her brow ferene.
Attend, while that harmonious tongue
Each bofom, each defire commands;
Apollo's lute by Hermes ftrung,
And touch'd by chaste Minerva's hands,
Attend. I feel a force divine,
O Delia, win my thoughts to thine,
That half thy graces feem already mine.
Yet confcious of the dangerous charm,-
Soon would I turn my steps away;
Nor oft provoke the lovely harm,
Nor once relax my reason's sway.
But thou, my friend-What fudden fighs?
What means the blush that comes and flies?
Why ftop? why filent? why avert thy eyes?
So foon again to meet the fair?
So penfive all this abfent hour?
-O yet, unlucky youth, beware,
While yet to think is in thy power.
In vain with friendship's flattering name
Thy paffion mafks its inward fhame:
Friendship, the treacherous fuel of thy flame!
Once, I remember, tir'd of Love,
I'fpurn'd his hard, tyrannic chain,
Yet won the haughty fair to prove.
What fober joys in friendship reign.
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