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H a m mond.

Sammond

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Borzüglichen Beifall und Ruhm in der elegischen Gate tung erwarb fich unter den euglischen Dichtern James hammond, geb. um 1710; gest

. 1779. Er verfertigte seis ne Elegieen schon in seiner fråhen Jugend; und die Delia, die er darin besingt, mar eine gemisie Miß Dashwood; fie wurden aber erst nach seinem Tode, durch den Grafen von Chesterfield, herausgegeben. Fast durchgängig sind sie Nachahmungen Tibull's; die fünfzehnte ist in Ovid's Mas nier. Viel sanftes Gefühl, verbunden mit feiner Wendung und Sprache, giebt ihnen einen sehr vorzüglichen Werth; und Dr. Johnson urtheilt, verleitet durch Feindseligkeit wider ihren Herausgeber, rehr hart und ungerecht, wenn er ihnen Leidenschaft, Natur und Sitten schlechthin abs spricht. Man vergleiche die folgende Elegie mit der oben abgedruckten aus dem Tibull, deren glückliche Nachbildung fie ift.

E LE G Y.

Let others boast their heaps of shining gold,
And view their fields with waving plenty crown'd,
Whom neighb'ring foes in constant terrour hold,
And trumpets break their slumbers, never found:

While calmly poor, I trifle life away,
Enjoy sweet leisure by my cheerful fire ;
No wanton hope my quiet shall betray,
But, cheaply blest, I'll scorn each vain desire.

With timely care I'll fow my little field
And plant my orchard with its master's hand,
Nor blush to spread the hay, the hook to wield,
Or range my fheaves along the funny land.

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hammond. If late at dusk, while carelelsly I roam,

I meet a strolling kid or bleating lamb,
Under my arm I'll bring the wand'rer home,
And not a little chide its thoughtless dam.

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What joy to hear the tempeft howl in vain,
And claip a fearful mistress to my breast!
Or lulld to slumber by the beating rain,
Secure and happy, sink at last to rest!

Or if the fun in fiaming Leo ride
By shady rivers indolently stray
And with my Delia, walking side by side,
Hear how they murmur as they glide away!

What joy to wind along the cool retreat,
To stop, and gaze on Delia as I go!
To mingle sweet discourse with kisses fweet
And teach my lovely scholar all I know!

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Thus pleas'd at not with Fancy's dream,
In filent happiness I rest unknown,
Content with what I am, not what I seem,
I live for Delia and myself alone.

Ah! foolish man! who thus of her pofleft
Could float and wander with Ambition's wind,
And if his outward trappings spoke him bleft
Not heed the sickness of his conscious mind

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With her I scorn the idle breath of Praise,
Nor trust to happiness that's not our own:
The smile of Fortune might suspicion raise;
But here, I know that I am loy'd alone.

Stanhope, in wisdom as in wit divine,
May rise and plead Britannia's glorious cause,
With steady rein his eager wit confine;
While manly sense the deep; attention draws.

Let Stanhope fpeak his lift'ning Country's wrongs, hammond.
My humble voice fhall please one partial maid;
For her alone I pen my tender fongs,
Securely sitting in his friendly shade.

Stanhope shall come and grace his rural friend;
Delia hall wonder at her noble guest,
With blushing awe the riper fruit commend
And for her husband's patron call the best.

Her's be the care of all my little train
While I with tender indolence am blest,
The favourite subject of her gentle reign,
By love alone distinguish'd from the relt

For her I'll yoke my oxen to the plow,
In gloomy forest tend my lonely flock;
For her a goat therd climb the mountain's brow,
And sleep extended on the nacked rock.
Ah! what avails to press the stately bed,
And far from her 'midst tasteless grandeur weepa
By marble fountains lay the pensive head
And while they murmur strive in vain to sleep?
Delia alone can please and never tire,
Exceed the paint of thought in true delight:
With her enjoyment wakens new 'desire,
And equal rapture glows thro' ev'ry night.

Beauty and worth in her alike contend
To charm the fancy and to fix the mind:
In her my wife, my mistress, and my friend,
I taste the joys of sense and reason join'd.

On her I'll gaze when others' loves are o'er,
And dying press her with my clay.cold hand
Thou weep'st already as I wereno more,
Nor can that gentle breast the thought withstand,

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hammond. Oh! when I die my latest moments (pare,

Nor let thy grief with sharper torments kill:
Wound not thy cheeks, nor hurt that flowing hair.
Tho' I am dead my loul shall love thee still.

Oh! quit the room; oh! quit the deathful bed;
Or thou wilt die, so tender is thy heart:
Oh! leave me, Delia! ere thou seest me dead;
These weeping friends will do thy mournful part.

Let them extended on the decent bier
Convey the corse in melancholy state.
Thro' all the village spread the tender tear,
While pitying maids our wondrous loves relate.

Shens She nft one.

Shenstone. co

S. H. I. S. 429. Unter seinen Gedichten ist eine Folge von sechs und zwanzig Elegieen, voll mannichfaltiger Schonheiten der Empfindung und des Ausdrucks, und nieis ftentheils durch einzelne wirkliche Vorfälle veranlasst. hat ihnen einen kurzen Versuch über diese Dichtungsart vor. ausgeschickt, worin er sie als die Ergiebung eines betrach. tungsvollen Gemüths erklärt, die zumeilen Flagend, aber als lemal ernsthaft, und daher über allen Schimmer kleiner Verzierungen erhaben ist. Dr. Johnson tadelt an diesen Elegieen die zu große Gleichförmigkeit des Inhalts, welcher faft in allen häusliches Glück, Ruhe und Genügsamkeit ist. Die folgende schrieb Sh. zum Andenken einer Privatfamilie in Worcestershire, der Penns von harborough, einem Orte, dessen Namen in der angelsächsischen auf ein beer anfpielt; und es ist dort eine Sage, daß in jener Gegend zwischen den Britten und Rimern eine Schlacht geliefert sep: und dieß ift die Grundlage der eingewebten Dichtung.

IN MEMORY OF A PRIVATE FAMILY

IN WORCESTERSHIRE.

From a lone tow'r with rev'rend ivy crown'd,
The pealing bell awak'd a tender figh;
Still as the village caught the waving found,
A swelling tear distream'd from ev'ry eye.

So droop'd, I ween, each Briton's breast of old,
When the dull curfew spoke their freedom fled;
For, sighing as the mournful accent rollid,
„Our hope," they cry'd, your kind support, is

dead!“

'Twas good Palemon! - Near a shaded pool, A group of ancient elms umbrageous role;

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