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Then, when at heav'n's prolific mandate fprung?
The radiant beam of new-created day, Celestial harps, to airs of triumph strung,
Hail'd the glad dawn, and angels call'd me MAY.
Space in her empty regions heard the found,
And hills, and dales, and rocks, and valleys rung; The fun exulted in his glorious round,
And fhouting planets in their courses fung.
For ever then I led the conftant year;
Saw Youth, and Joy, and Love's enchanting wiles'; Saw the mild Graces in my train appear,
And infant Beauty brighten in my smiles.
No Winter frown'd. In fweet embrace ally'd,
With Autumn's blufh, and Summer's lofty mien.
Too foon, when man prophan'd the bleffings giv'n,
I fled, and flying faw the Deluge rage:
Saw bursting clouds eclipfe the noontide beams,
While founding billows from the mountains roll'd, With bitter waves polluting all my streams,
My nectar'd ftreams, that flow'd on fands of gold.
Their forefts floating on the watʼry plain :
No longer bloom'd primeval Eden's bow'rs,
• See Plato.
No more to dwell in fylvan fcenes deign'd,
With quick'ning pow'rs the fainting mass sustain'd, A
And every echo caught my raptur'd name,
But chief in Europe, and in Europe's pride,
My Albion's favour'd realms, I rose ador'd; And pour'd my wealth to other climes deny'd, From Amalthea's horn with plenty stor❜d.
Ah me! for now a younger rival claims
Do morning funs in ruddier glory rise?
Does ev'ning fan her with ferener gales ?
Ah! no: the blunted beams of dawning light
Pale, immature, the blighted verdure fprings,
When Silence liftens at the midnight hour.
The fickly daughter of th' unripen'd year? With fhow'rs and funfhine in her fickle eyes, With hollow fmiles proclaiming treach'rous peace; With blushes, harb'ring in their thin difguife The blaft that riots on the Spring's increase.
Is this the fair invested with my spoil
By Europe's laws, and Senates' ftern command? Ungen'rous Europe, let me fly thy foil,
And waft my treasures to a grateful land:
Again revive on Afia's drooping shore
My Daphne's groves, or Lycia's ancient plain : Again to Afric's fultry fands restore
Embow'ring fhades, and Lybian Ammon's fane:
Or hafte to northern Zembla's favage coaft,
There hush to filence elemental strife; Brood o'er the region of eternal Froft,
And fwell her barren womb with heat and life.
Then Britain -here the ceas'd. Indignant grief, And parting pangs her fault'ring tongue fuppreft: Veil'd in an amber cloud, fhe fought relief,
And tears, and filent anguish told the reft.
E belles, and ye flirts, and
SONG for RANELAGH.
By Mr. W: WHITEHEAD.
ye pert little things,
Who trip in this frolicfome round,
What means the cock'd hat, and the mafculine air,