Графични страници
PDF файл
ePub

While thousand hand-maid stars await,
Attendant on their queen of state.
'Tis now that in her high contro ul,
Ambitious of a foreign rule,
She stirs the Ocean to rebel,
And factious waters fond to swell
Guides to battle in her carr,
'Gainst her sister Earth to war.
Thus let me muse on things sublime,
Above the flight of modern rhyme,
And call the soul of Newton down,
Where it fits high on flarry throne,
Inventing laws for worlds to come,
Or teaching comets how to roam:
With him I'd learn of

every ftar,
But four-ey'd Pedantry be far,
And Ignorance in garb of Sense,
With terms of art to make pretence.

Hail happy soil ! illustrious earth!
Which gav'ft so many heroes birth;
Which never wand'ring poet trod,
But felt within th' inspiring God!
In these transporting, folemn shades,
First I falute th' Aonian maids.
Ah lead me, Genius, to thy haunts,
Where Philomel at ev'ning chants,
And as my oaten pipe refourds,
Give mufick to the forming founds.

A fimple

A simple shepherd, yet unknown,
Aspires to snatch an ivy crown,
On daring pinions bold to foar,
Tho' here thy Waller sung before,
And Johnson dipt his learned pen,
And Sidney pour'd his fancy-flowing strain.

TO THE

Y

Hon. Wilmot Vaughan, Esq; in Wales.

By the Same.
E diftant realms that hold

my

friend
Beneath a cold ungenial sky,
Where lab’ring groves with weight of vapours bend,
Or raving winds o'er barren mountains Ay;
Restore him quick to London's focial clime,
Reftore him quick to friendship, love and joy;

Be swift, ye lazy steeds of Time,
Ye moments, all your speed employ.
Behold November's glooms arise,

Pale suns with fainter glory shine,
Dark gathering tempests blacken in the skies,
And thiv'ring woods their fickly leaves resign.
Is this a time on Cambrian hills to roam,
To court disease in Winter's baleful reign,

To listen to th' Atlantic foam,
While rocks repel the roaring main,

While horror fills the region vast,

Rheumatic tortures Eurus brings,
Pregnant with agues flies the northern blaft,
And clouds drop quartans from their flagging wings.
Doft thou explore Sabrina's fountful source,
Where huge Plinlimmon's hoary height ascends :

Then downward mark her vagrant course,
Till mix'd with clouds the landscape ends ?
Dost thou revere the hallow'd foil

Where Druids old sepulchred lie;
Or
up
cold Snowden's

craggy

summits toil,
And muse on ancient savage liberty?
Ill suit such walks with bleak autumnal air,
Say, can November yield the joys of May ?

When Jove deforms the blasted year,
Can Wallia boast a chearful day?
The town expects thee.Hark, around,

Thro' every street of gay resort,
New chariots rattle with awak’ning found,
And crowd the levees, and besiege the court.
The patriot, kindling as his wars ensue,
Now fires his soul with liberty and fame,

Marshals his threat'ning tropes anew,
And gives his hoarded thunders aim.
Now seats their absent lords deplore,

Neglected villas empty stand,
Capacious Gro’venor gathers all its store,
And mighty London fwallows up the landa

See

See sportive Vanity her flights begin,
See new-blown Folly's plenteous harvest rise,

See mimick beauties dye their kin,
And harlots roll their venal eyes.
Fashions are set, and fops return,

And young coquettes in arms appear ;
Dreaming of conquest, how their bosoms burn,
Trick'd in the new fantastry of the year.
Fly then away, nor scorn to bear a part
In this gay scene of folly amply spread :

Follies well us'd refine the heart,
And pleasures clear the studious head;
By grateful interchange of mirth

The toils of study sweeter grow,
As varying feasons recommend the earth,
Nor does Apollo always bend his bow.

AN

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

SIR,

HILE born to bring the Muse's happier days,

A patriot's hand protects a poet's lays :
While nurs'd by you she sees her myrtles bloom,
Green and unwither'd o'er his honour'd tomb :
Excuse her doubts, if yet she fears to tell
What secret transports in her bosom swell :
With conscious awe The hears the critic's fame,
And blushing hides her wreath at Shakespear's name.

Hard

« ПредишнаНапред »