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This table and mirror within,
Secure from collision and dust,
At which I oft shave cheek and chin,
And periwig nicely adjust.

This moveable structure of shelves,
For its beauty admired and its use,
And charged with octavos and twelves
The gayest I had to produce,
Where, flaming in scarlet and gold,
My Poems enchanted I view,
And hope, in due time, to behold
My Iliad and Odyssey too.

This China, that decks the alcove,
Which here people call a beaufette,
But what the gods call it above,

Has ne'er been reveal'd to us yet:
These curtains, that keep the room warm,
Or cool, as the season demands;
Those stoves, that for pattern and form,
Seem the labour of Mulciber's hands.

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The stream of pure and genuine love
Derives its current from above;
And earth a second Eden shows,
Where'er the healing water flows:
But ah, if from the dykes and drains
Of sensual nature's fev'rish veins,
Lust like a lawless headstrong flood,
Impregnated with ooze and mud,
Descending fast on ev'ry side
Once mingles with the sacred tide,
Farewell the soul-enliv'ning scene!
The banks that wore a smiling green,
With rank defilement overspread,
Bewail their flow'ry beauties dead.
The stream polluted, dark, and dull,
Diffused into a Stygian pool,
Through life's last melancholy years
Is fed with ever flowing tears:

Complaints supply the zephyr's part,
And sighs that heave a breaking heart.

ELEGY on the LATE MR. WAKEFIELD.

[Translated by MR. GOOD, from the LATIN of DR. GEDDES.]

HEE too, the boast of every critic tongue,

TH

Has fate severe snatched headlong from our eyes;
Snatched from a weeping wife, an offspring young,
Friends dearly loved, and all the good and wise.

How hard the doom!-In dungeons long enthralled,
Scarce flies thy joyous foot their dreary bourn,
When lo to Death's dark mansions art thou called,
Whence man returns not-nor can e'er return.

True-good and bad, wise, simple, rich and poor,
Whoe'er has drank th' ethereal flood of day,
Kings, courtiers, beggars, must alike explore,
Soon, or more late, th' irremeable way:

But who laments not that, while fools survive,
While guilt grows old in infamy and crime,
Worth, wisdom, piety, that chief should thrive,
Fall like the rose-bud weltering in its prime?

But though too short the date to thee assigned,
Not short the genuine fame just heaven imparts:
Yes! thou hast lived-and long shall live, behind,
Thy splendid image, WAKEFIELD! in our hearts.

Meanwhile

Meanwhile betake thee to the fields of bliss,
Th' Elysian plains no cloud can c'er eclipse:
For not for thee yawns Ereb's dread abyss,
Nor pitchy Phlegeton shall soil thy lips.

No grey-beard judge shall now thy cause decide;
Impartial Minos here the balance holds:
Hark! as he sees thy spirit onward glide,

His tongue the ready plaudit thus unfolds:

"Fear not, pure shade! thy sufferings all, we know;
"These Hermes long has hastened to reveal:
"Though right and wrong be oft misnamed below,
"Substantial justice, here, alone we deal.

"Here rank is nought, and nought imperious power;
.. 'Tis VIRTUE, VIRTUE only can avail.
"Go-choose thy lot-command each future hour,
"All, all is thine, plain, woodland, hill and dale.

"Wouldst thou with Wisdom's sons divide the scene?
"Lo! PHERECYDES, SOLON at thy will;
"The SAMIAN, THALES, EPICURUS keen,
STAGIRA's sage, and PLATO sager still.

"There, pride of Rome! th' illustrious Catos shine;
"BRUTUS and PLINY, TULLY sweet of sound;
"There SENECA and MARCUS named divine
"By tank imperial less than virtue crowned.

"Compatriot with thyself, amid the throng,
"See LOCKE, see BACON, of coequal boast;
"See NEWTON, first the sapient train among,
"The fame and glory of the British coast.

"Or does thine ear sweet oratory please,

"With soothing sound, and soul-compelling power;
Lo! where EOLIDES suspends the breeze ;-
"The honeyed stream from NESTOR's lip devour:

"Feast on the tones that PERICLES of old,

"Like thunder, threw o'er deep-distracted Greece; "The torrent of DEMOSTHENES behold;

"The golden periods, none would wish to cease :

"Drink from the CICERONIAN fount that flows

Copious and calm: there Fox, in future time, "Not meanly seated, mid them shall repose, "Or break in tones as cogent and sublime.

" Or

"Or wouldst thou mid thy favorite bards retreat,
"And hear them still their melodies resume?
"LO! LINUS, HESIOD, MOSCHUS, BION sweet,
"HOMER divine, and PINDAR bold of plume.

"EURIPEDES, the drama's perfect type,

"ESCHYLUS there, and SOPHOCLES resort;
"The swain SICILIAN tunes his oaten pipe,
"And, mid his snows, ANACREON still would sport.

"There MARO, FLACCUS, and the bard who fell
"Victim to love to love the art he taught;
"Sublime LUCRETIUS whom thy toils, so well
"Spent while on earth, with splendor new have fraught.

"There roam they all consociate; and with these
"The British bards, ethereal MILTON, POPE,
“DRYDEN, and he, who most the soul could seize
"With mimic terror, or celestial hope.

"Immortal SHAKESPERE: nor remotely roves
"Pale CowPER, still by many a friend bewailed;
"Whom melancholy to th' infernal groves
"Sent immature, e'er nature half had failed.

"Bards, sages, patriots-go, attend at will;

"For thee the train of heroes boasts no charm: "Spurn them-a race whom basest passions fill, Vain, proud, perverse, intent on human harm.”

66

He ceased. And straight thy favored shade, I thought,
Thus, GILBERT! to the righteous judge replied:
"Since mine the boon to choose my future lot,
"Oh! mid the sages let me e'er reside:

"Mid genuine sages, not the sophist race,
"Whom now, as ever, from my heart I hate ;
"Nor give me oft mid orators a place,

"Vain, senseless wranglers, full of fume and

prate.

"Such, mid the senate, seemed loquacious PITT;
"To pour the wordy torrent never loth:
"Such WINDHAM, when, by passion roused, he spit
"His bursting vomica of bilious froth.

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"O! let me oftener mid the bards renowned
My station take and join their dulcet lay:
"O! let the bards, with soft melodious sound,
"Soothe me, revive, and all my bosom sway.

"But

"But from your heroes ever let me fly

"Arms, impious arms, their hands barbarian wield; "Unawed by all the terrors of the sky,

"To all the charities of Nature steeled.

"Struck by their spear, lo! heavenly freedom falls,
"And countless burdens crush the crowds around:
"Hence, ye prophane! your sight my soul appals;
"Let never tyrant near my paths be found."

Most wise thy choice, dear WAKEFIELD! Such to me
Should fate vouchsafe, thy harpings I will join ;
Yes, to thy heavenly harpings will I flee,

And strike, with trembling hand, the strings divine.

Loud will I strike them if the Muses smile,
Sweet Terpsicore, Erato sweeter still:
The Muses every grief that best beguile,
To me an antidote for every ill.

Hear them, my friend! and with them oft unite;
Soon shall I join thee, as these tremors tell;
Faint are my limbs-already Death's in sight-
But, 'tis enough-respected shade, farewell!

T

SOLILOQUY of the ROYAL BRIDE.

[From Mr. GooD'S TRANSLATION of the SONG of SONGS.]
WAS my beloved's voice.-With rapture new,
Light as a hart, o'er heights and hills he flew.
Lo! through the window, through the lattice green,
Hard by the door, right early was he seen.

1803.

"Arise, my love!" 'twas thus I heard him say,
"Arise, my love! my fair one, come away!
"Gone is the winter, and the rains are o'er,

"And the fresh fields their yearly blossoms pour;
"The birds their songs resume through every grove,
"The glossy turtle wakes his voice to love;
"Her figs the fig-tree sweetens-o'er the vine,
"Fragrant and fresh, the lucid clusters shine,-

"Woods, hills, and valleys, all their charms display,
"Arise, my love! my fair one, come away.
"O! from thy clefts, thy fastnesses appear;
"Here bend thy voice, my dove! thy visage here:
"Look through the lattice, bid my heart rejoice,
"For dear to me thy visage, and thy voice.—
"And you, companions! haste-the way prepare,---
"Root out the foxes from each felon lair;

P

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