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That all the trials of her fate were past,
And Love's decisive plaudit feal'd the last.
Her airy guard prepares the softest down
From Peace's wing, to line the nuptial crown:
Her smiles accelerate the bridal morn,
And clear her votary's path from every thorn.
On the quick match the prude's keen censures fall,
Blind to the heavenly power who guided all ;
But mild Serena scorn'd the prudish play
To wound warm love with frivolous delay;
Nature's chaste child, not affectation's slave,
The heart she meant to give, she frankly gave.
Thro' her glad Sire no gouty humours run,
Jocund he glories in his deftin'd fon.
Penelope herself, no longer seen
In the foul femblance of tormenting Spleen,
Buys for her niece the robes of nuptial state,
Nor scolds the Mercer once thro' all the long debatę.
For quick dispatch, the honest man of law
Toils half the night the legal ties to draw;
At length th' enraptured Youth, all forms compleat,
Bears his sweet Bride to his paternal feat;
On a fair lawn the cheerful mansion stood,
And high behind it rose a circling wood.
As the blest lord of this extensive reign
Led his dear partner thro’ her new domain,
With fond surprise, Serena foon descried
A temple rais'd to her æthereal guide.
Its ornaments she view'd with tender awe,
Their fashion such as she in vision saw;
For the kind youth, her grateful smile to gain,
Had, from her clear defcription, deck'd the fane.
Joyful he cried, to his angelic wife,
“ Be this kind power the worship of our life !"
He spoke; and led her to the inmoit shrine ;
Here, link'd in rosy bands, two votaries shine ;
The pencil had imparted life to each,
With energy that seem'd beyond its reach.
First stood connubial Love, a manly youth,
Whose bright eye spoke the ardent vows of truth;
Friendship, sweet smiling, fill?d the second place,
In all the fofter charms of virgin grace.
Their meeting arms a mystic tablet raise,
Deck'd with these lines, the moral of my lays :
“ Virtue's an ingot of Peruvian gold,
“ Sense the bright ore, Potofi’s mines unfold ;
“ But Temper's image must their use create,
" And give these precious metals sterling weight.”
FROM harmony, from heavenly harmony,
This universal frame began :
From harmony to harmony Thro’ all the compass of the notes it ran; The diapason closing full in man.
And man may justly tuneful notes admire ; His foul is music, and his breast a lyre :
A lyre, which, while its various notes agree,
Enjoys the sweets of its own harmony.
In us rough hatred with soft love is join'd,
And sprightly hope with grov'ling fear combin'd,
To form the parts of our harmonious mind.
What ravishes the soul, what charms the ear,
Is music, tho’ a various dress it wear.
Beauty is music too, tho' in disguise ;
Too fine to touch the ear, it strikes the eyes,
And thro' them, to the soul the filent stroke conveys.
'Tis music heavenly, such as in a sphere,
We only can admirę, but cannot hear.
Music has charms to footh a savage breast,
To soften rocks and bend the knotted oak :
I've read that things inanimate have mov'a,
And as with living souls have been inform’d
By magic numbers and persuasive found.
DRYDEN AND CONGREVE.
A Little learning is a dangerous thing;
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring.
Here shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
But drinking largely fobers us again.
LONDON! the needy villain’s gen’ral home,
The common-shore of Paris, and of Rome;
With eager thirst, by folly or by fate,
Sucks in the dregs of each corrupted state.
Forgive my transports on a theme like this,
I cannot bear a French metropolis.
Illustrious Edward ! from the realms of day,
The land of heroes and of saints survey ;
Nor hope the British lineaments to trace,
The rustic grandeur, or the surly grace,
But lost in thoughtless eafe, and empty show,
Behold the warrior dwindled to a beau ;
Sense, freedom, piety, refin'd away,
Of France the mimick, and of Spain the prey, .
Al.that at home no more can beg or steal,
Or like a gibbet better than a wheel;
Hiss’d from the stage, or hooted from the court,
Their air, their dress, their politicks import ;
Obsequious, artful, voluble and gay,
On Britain's fond credulity they prey."
No gainful trade their industry can ’scape,
They fing, they dance, clean shoes, or cure a clap:
All sciences a fafting Monsieur knows,
And bid him go to hell, to hell he
Ah! what avails it, that, from Nav'ry far,
I drew the breath of life in English air ;
Was early taught a Briton's right to prize,
And lisp the tale of Henry's victories ;
If the gulld conqueror receives the chain,
And flattery subdues when arms are vain ?
Studious to please, and ready to submit,
The fupple Gaul was born a parasite :
Still to his int'rest true, where-e'er he goes,
Wit, brav'ry, worth, his lavish tongue bestows;
In ev'ry face a thousand graces shine ;
From ev'ry tongue flows harmony divine.
These arts in vain our rugged natives try,
Strain out with fault'ring diffidence a lie,
And gain a kick for aukward flattery.
What man would leave, unbrib'd, Hibernia's land,
Or change the rocks of Scotland for the Strand ?
There none are swept by sudden fate away,
But all whom hunger spares, with age decay :
Here malice, rapine, accident, conspire,
And now a rabble rages, now a fire ;
Their ambush here relentless ruffians lay,
And here the fell attorney prowls for prey ;
Here falling houses thunder on your head,
And here a female atheist talks
By numbers here from shame or censure free,
All crimes are safe, but hated poverty.
This, only this, the rigid law pursues,
This, only this, provokes the snarling muse.
The sober trader, at a tatter'd cloak
Wakes from his dream, and labours for a joke ;