ELE GY VII.

He defcribes his vifion to an acquaintance.

"Cætera per terras omnes animalia," &c. VIRG.

N diftant heaths, beneath autumnal skies,

ON

Penfive I saw the circling fhades defcend; Weary and faint I heard the ftorm arise,

While the fun vanish'd like a faithlefs friend. No kind companion led my steps aright;

No friendly planet lent its glimmering ray; Ev'n the lone cot refus'd its wonted light,

Where toil in peaceful flumber clos'd the day. Then the dull bell had given a pleasing found; The village cur 'twere transport then to hear; In dreadful filence all was hush'd around,

While the rude storm alone diftrefs'd mine ear. As led by Orwell's winding banks I stray'd, Where towering Wolfey breath'd his native air; A fudden luftre chas'd the flitting shade,

The founding winds were hush'd, and all was fair. Instant a grateful form appear'd confest;

White were his locks with awful fcarlet crown'd, And livelier far than Tyrian seem'd his vest,

That with the glowing purple ting'd the ground. "Stranger, he faid, amid this pealing rain,

Benighted, lonesome, whither would'st thou stray? Does wealth or power thy weary step constrain ? Reveal thy wish, and let me point the way.

For know I trod the trophy'd paths of power;
Felt every joy that fair ambition brings;.
And left the lonely roof of yonder bower,
To ftand beneath the canopies of kings.
I bade low hinds the towering ardour share;
Nor meanly rofe, to bless myself alone :
I fnatch'd the fhepherd from his fleecy care,
And bade his wholesome dictate guard the throne.
Low at my feet the fuppliant peer I saw;

I faw proud empires my decision wait;
My will was duty, and my word was law,

My fmile was tranfport, and my frown was fate." Ah me! faid I, nor power I feek, nor gain; Nor urg'd by hope of fame these toils endure; A fimple youth, that feels a lover's pain,

And, from his friend's condolance, hopes a cure.
He, the dear youth, to whose abodes I roam,
Nor can mine honours, nor my fields extend
Yet for his fake I leave my diftant home,

Which oaks embofom, and which hills defend.
Beneath that home I fcorn the wintry wind;
The fpring, to shade me, robes her fairest tree;
And if a friend my grafs-grown threshold find,
O how my lonely cot refounds with glee!

Yet, though averfe to gold in heaps amafs'd,
I wish to blefs, I languish to bestow;

And though no friend to fame's obftreperous blast,
Still, to her dulcet murmurs not a foe.

Too

Too proud with fervile tone to deign addrefs;
Too mean to think that honours are my due,
Yet should some patron yield my stores to bless,
I fure should deem my boundless thanks were few..
But tell me, thou! that, like a meteor's fire,
Shot'ft blazing forth; difdaining dull degrees;
Should I to wealth, to fame, to power afpire,
Muft I not pass more rugged paths than these?
Muft I not groan beneath a guilty load,

Praise him I scorn, and him I love betray?
Does not felonious envy bar the road?

Or falfehood's treacherous foot befet the

way?
Say fhould I pafs through favour's crowded gate,
Must not fair truth inglorious wait behind?
Whilst I approach the glittering fcenes of ftate,
My best companion no admittance find?
Nurs'd in the fhades by freedom's lenient care,
Shall I the rigid sway of fortune own?
Taught by the voice of pious truth, prepare
To fpurn an altar, and adore a throne?
And when proud fortune's ebbing tide recedes,
And when it leaves me no unfhaken friend,
Shall I not weep that e'er I left the meads,

Which oaks embosom, and which hills defend?
Oh! if thefe ills the price of power advance,
Check not my speed where focial joys invite!
The troubled vifion caft a mournful glance,
And fighing vanish'd in the shades of night.

ELEGY

He defcribes his early love of poetry, and its confequences. To Mr. GRAVES, 1745.

Written after the death of Mr. P OP E.

A

H me! what envious magic thins my fold?

What mutter'd fpell retards their late increase?
Such leffening fleeces muft the fwain behold,
That e'er with Doric pipe effays to please.

I faw my friends in evening circles meet;
I took my vocal reed, and tun'd my lay;
I heard them fay my vocal reed was sweet :
Ah fool! to credit what I heard them fay!
Ill-fated bard! that feeks his fkill to fhow,

Then courts the judgment of a friendly ear!
Not the poor veteran, that permits his foe

To guide his doubtful step, has more to fear.
Nor could my Graves mistake the critic's laws,

Till pious friendship mark'd the pleafing way:
Welcome fuch error! ever bleft the cause!

Ev'n though it led me boundless leagues aftray!
Couldst thou reprove me, when I nurs'd the flame

On liftening Cherwell's ofier banks reclin`d?
While, foe to fortune, unseduc'd by fame,

I footh'd the bias of a careless mind.

Youth's

Youth's gentle kindred, health and love were met?
What though in Alma's guardian arms I play'd?
How fhall the Mufe thofe vacant hours forget?
Or deem that blifs by folid cares repaid?

Thou know'ft how tranfport thrills the tender breast,
Where love and fancy fix their opening reign;
How nature fhines in livelier colours dreft,

To bless their union, and to grace their train.
So first when Phoebus met the Cyprian queen,
And favour'd Rhodes beheld their paffion crown'd,
Unufual flowers enrich'd the painted green;
And swift fpontaneous rofes blufh'd around.
Now fadly lorn, from Twitnam's widow'd bower,
The drooping Mufes take their cafual way;
And where they stop, a flood of tears they pour;
And where they weep, no more the fields are gay、
Where is the dappled pink, the sprightly rofe?
The cowflip's golden cup no more I fee:
Dark and discolour'd every flower that blows,
To form the garland, Elegy for thee !—
Enough of tears has wept the virtuous dead;

Ah might we now the pious rage controul;
Hush'd be my grief ere every smile be fled,
Ere the deep fwelling figh fubvert the foul!
If near fome trophy fpring a ftripling bay,
Pleas'd we behold the graceful umbrage rife;
But foon too deep it works its baneful way,
And, low on earth, the proftrate ruin lies.

ELEGY