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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.

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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.

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No Winter frown'd. In fweet embrace ally'd,
Three fifter Seafons danc'd th' eternal green;
And Spring's retiring foftness gently vy'd

With Autumn's blufh, and Summer's lofty mien.

Too foon, when man prophan'd the bleffings giv'n,
And Vengeance arm'd to blot a guilty age,
With bright Aftrea to my native heav'n

I fled, and flying faw the Deluge rage:

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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.
Then vanish'd many a fea-girt ifle and grove,

Their forefts floating on the watʼry plain :
Then, fam'd for arts and laws deriv'd from Jove,-
My Atalantis funk beneath the main.

No longer bloom'd primeval Eden's bow'rs,
"Nor guardian dragons watch'd th' Hefperian steep:
With all their fountains, fragrant fruits and flow'rs,
Torn from the continent to glut the deep.

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• See Plato.

No more to dwell in fylvan fcenes deign'd,
Yet oft descending to the languid earth,

With quick'ning pow'rs the fainting mass sustain'd, A
And wak'd her flumb'ring atoms into birth.

And every echo caught my raptur'd name,
And every virgin breath'd her am'rous vows,
And precious wreaths of rich immortal fame,
Show'r'd by the Mufes, crown'd my lofty brows.

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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
My ravish'd honours, and to her belong
My choral dances, and victorious games,
To her my garlands and triumphal song.
O fay what yet untafted bounties flow,
What purer joys await her gentle reign?
Do lillies fairer, vi'lets fweeter blow?
And warbles Philomel a fofter ftrain?

Do morning funs in ruddier glory rise?

Does ev'ning fan her with ferener gales ?
Do clouds drop fatnefs from the wealthier skies?
Or wantons Plenty in her happier vales?

Ah! no: the blunted beams of dawning light
Skirt the pale orient with uncertain day;
And Cynthia, riding on the car of night,
Through clouds embattled faintly wins her way.


Pale, immature, the blighted verdure fprings,
Nor mounting juices feed the fwelling flow'r;
Mute all the groves, nor Philomela fings

When Silence liftens at the midnight hour.
Nor wonder, man, that Nature's bashful face,
And op'ning charms her rude embraces fear:
Is the not sprung of April's wayward race,

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:

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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.

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E belles, and ye flirts, and





ye pert little things,

Who trip in this frolicfome round,
Pray tell me from whence this indecency fprings,
The fexes at once to confound:

What means the cock'd hat, and the mafculine air,
With each motion defign'd to perplex?
Bright eyes were intended to languish, not stare,
And softness the teft of your fex.

II. The


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