And fee, through yonder filent grove,
See yonder does my Daphne rove:
With pride her foot-steps I pursue,
And bid your frantic joys adieu.

The fole confusion I admire,
Is that my Daphne's eyes inspire:
I fcorn the madness you approve,
And value reafon next to love.

V. Imitated from the FRENCH.

ES, these are the scenes where with Iris I stray'd,

YES,

But short was her fway for fo lovely a maid;

In the bloom of her youth to a cloister she run;
In the bloom of her graces, too fair for a nun!
Ill-grounded, no doubt, a devotion must prove
So fatal to beauty, fo killing to love!

Yes, these are the meadows, the shrubs and the plains; Once the scene of my pleasures, the scene of my pains; How many foft moments I spent in this grove!

How fair was my nymph! and how fervent my love! Be still though, my heart! thine emotion give o'er; Remember, the feafon of love is no more.

With her how I ftray'd amid fountains and bow'rs,
Or loiter'd behind and collected the flow'rs!

Then breathlefs with ardor my fair-one purfu'd,
And to think with what kindness my garland fhe view'd!
But be ftill, my fond heart! this emotion give o'er;
Fain wouldft thou forget thou must love her no more.

RURAL INSCRIPTIONS.
By the Same.

I. On a ROOT-HOUSE.

ERE in cool grot, and moffy cell,

HE

We rural fays and faeries dwell:

Though rarely seen by mortal eye,

When the pale moon, afcending high,

Darts through yon' limes her quivering beams,
We frisk it near these crystal streams.

Her beams, reflected from the wave,
Afford the light our revels crave;
The turf, with daisies broider'd o'er,
Exceeds, we wot, the Parian floor;
Nor yet for artful strains we call,

But liften to the water's fall.

Would

Would you then tafte our tranquil fcene,

Be sure your bofoms be ferene;

Devoid of hate, devoid of strife,
Devoid of all that poisons life;

And much it 'vails you, in their place,
To graft the love of human race.

And tread with awe these favour'd bow'rs,
Nor wound the fhrubs nor bruife the flow'rs;

So may your paths with sweets abound!
So may your couch with reft be crown'd!
But harm betide the wayward fwain,

Who dares our hallow'd haunt profane!

OBERON.

II. In a fhady Valley, near a running Water.

O

Let me haunt this peaceful fhade;

Nor let ambition e'er invade

The tenants of this leafy bow'r,

That fhun her paths, and flight her pow'r.

Hither the plaintive halcyon flies

From focial meads and open skies;

Pleas'd, by this rill, her courfe to steer,

And hide her faphire plumage here.

The

The trout, bedropt with crimson ftains,
Forfakes the river's proud domains;
Forfakes the fun's unwelcome gleam,
To lurk within this humble stream.

And fure I heard the Naiad say,

"Flow, flow, my ftream! this devious way;
"Though lovely foft thy murmurs are,
"Thy waters, lovely cool and fair!

"Flow, gentle ftream! nor let the vain

"Thy fmall unfully'd ftores difdain: "Nor let the penfive fage repine,

"Whose latent course resembles thine."

III. On a small Building in the Gothic Taste.

ID Bou that bathe in courtly blyffe!

O tople in fortune's giddye spheare!

Doo not too rashiye deeme ampfse
Of him, that bydes contentid here.

- Moz yet disdeigne the ruffer stoale,

Whyche o'er each carelesse lymbe he flyngs:

Roz pet berpde the beechen bowle,

In whyche he quaffs the lynpid spryngs.

So may He pardonne fraud and strife, ›

If such in courtipe haunt he see:

Foz faults there beene in buspe Ipfe,

From whyche these peacefull glennes are free.

A Paftoral BALLAD, in Four Parts.

Written 1743.

By the Same.

Arbufta bumilefque myrica.

Y

I. ABSENCE.

I.

E fhepherds fo cheerful and gay,
Whofe flocks never carelessly roam
Should Corydon's happen to ftray,
Oh! call the poor wanderers home,
Allow me to muse and to figh,

Nor talk of the change that ye find;
None once was fo watchful as I:

-I have left my dear Phyllis behind.

II.

Now I know what it is, to have strove

With the torture of doubt and defire ; What it is, to admire and to love,

And to leave her we love and admire.

VIRG.

Ah