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Let Health, gay daughter of the skies,
Where Surry's down's extend;
To heal that fhepherd all her balms employ,
Ah me! that Virtue's godlike friends
Lo! * PELHAM to the grave defcends,
The bulwark of the ftate:
When will fair Truth his equal find
Long be the fatal day with mourning kept!
Thy delegate, kind heaven, restore
To health, and safely keep;
Let good AUGUSTUS figh no more,
The Right Honourable Henry Pelham, Efq; died on the 6th of March 1754
And ftill upon the royal head
The riches of thy bleffings fhed:
Establish'd with his counsellors around,
Long be his profp'rous reign, and all with glory crown'd.
An AUTUMNAL ODE.
By the Same.
ET once more, glorious God of day,
O let me warbling court thy ftay
To gild the fading scene!
Thy rays invigorate the Spring,
Bright Summer to perfection bring,
The cold, inclement days of Winter cheer,
And make th' Autumnal months the mildeft of the year.
I'll climb the mountain's brow,
My friend, my Hayman, at thy call,
To view the scene below:
How sweetly pleafing to behold
How mix'd the many-chequer'd shades between The tawny mellowing hue, and the gay vivid green! III.
How fplendid all the fky! how ftill!
That winds along the dale!
So tranquil Nature's works appear,
As if, the Summer's Labour past, she chofe
Such is of well-fpent life the time,
Man verging gradual from his prime,
His flowery Spring of pleasures o'er,
And Summer's full-blown pride no more,
He gains pacific Autumn, meek and bland, And dauntless braves the stroke of Winter's palfy'd hand.
For yet awhile, a little while,
Involv'd in wint❜ry gloom,
Then shall he shine, a glorious gueft,
And reap the golden fruits of what his Autumn fow'd.
WAY, let nought to love displeasing,
With pompous titles grace our blood,
What though from Fortune's lavish bounty
Still fhall each kind returning seafon
Shall fweetly found where'er 'tis fpoke,
Through youth and age in love excelling,