winds were filent, all the waves, asleep,
heav'n was trac'd upon the flatt'ring deep;
whilft he looks unmindful of a storm,
thinks the water wears a ftable form,
t dreadful din around his ears fhall rife!
t frowns confufe his picture of the skies!
tfirft the creature man was fram'd alone,
of himself, and all the world his own.
him the nymphs in green forfook the woods,
him the nymphs in blue forfook the floods,
in the fatyrs rage, the tritons rave,
y bore him heroes in the fecret cave.
care deftroy'd, no fick disorder prey'd,
sending age his fprightly form decay'd,
wars were known, no females heard to rage,
poets tell us, 'twas a golden age.
When woman came, thofe ills the box confin'd
t furious out, and poifon'd all the wind,
m point to point, from pole to pole they flew,
ad as they went, and in the progrefs grew:
nymphs regretting left the mortal race,
alt'ring nature wore a fickly face:
v terms of folly rofe, new states of care;
v plagues to fuffer, and to please the fair!
days of whining, and of wild intrigues,
menc'd, or finish'd with the breach of leagues ;
mean defigns of well diffembled love :
e fordid matches never join'd above;
oad the labour, and at home the noise,
an's double fuff'rings for domeftic joys)
e curfe of jealoufy; expence, and strife;
vorce, the public brand, of shameful life;
e rival's fword; the qualm that takes the fair;
dain for paffion, paffion in despair

efe and a thoufand, yet unnam'd we find;
fear the thoufand, yet unnam'd behind!
Thus on Parnaffus tuneful Hefiod fung,
me mountain echo'd, and the valley rung,
e facred groves a fix'd attention show,
e cryftal Helicon forbore to flow,

me fky grew bright, and (if his verfe be true)
me mufes came to give the laurel too.

t what avail'd the verdant prize of wit,
love swore vengrance for the tales he writ?
et fair offended, hear your friend relate
hat heavy judgment prov'd the writer's fate,
o' when it happen'd, no relation clears,
is thought in five, or five and twenty years.
Where, dark and filent, with a twisted shade
he neighb'ring woods a native arbour made,
here oft a tender pair for am'rous play
tiring, toy'd the ravish'd hours away;
Locrian youth, the gentle Troilus he,
fair Milefian, kind Evanthe fhe:
tiwelling nature in a fatal hour

ray'd the fecrets of the confcious bow'r; The dire difgrace her brothers count their own, nd track her fteps, to make its author known. It chanc'd one evening, ('twas the lover's day) onceal'd in brakes the jealous kindred lay; When Hefiod wand'ring mus'd along the plain, nd fix'd his feat where love had fix'd the fçene: ftrong fufpicion ftraight poffefs'd their mind, For poets ever were a gentle kind.) ut when Evanthe near the paffage ftood, lung back a doubtful look and thot the wood,

"Now take, (at once they cry) thy due reward," And urg'd with erring rage, affault the bard. His corps the fea receiv'd. The dolphins bore ('Twas all the gods would do) the corps to fhore. Methinks I view the dead with pitying eyes, And fee the dreams of antient wifdom rife; I fee the Mufes round the body cry, But hear a Cupid loudly laughing by; He wheels his arrow with infulting hand, And thus infcribes the moral on the fand, "Here Hefiod lies: ye future bards, beware "How far your moral tales incense the fair: "Unlov'd, unloving, 'twas his fate to bleed; "Without his quiver Cupid caus'd the deed: "He judg'd this turn of malice justly due, "And Hefiod dy'd for joys he never knew."

THYRSIS, a young and am'rous fwain,
Saw two, the beauties of the plain,
Who both his heart fubdue:

Gay Cælia's eyes were dazzling fair,
Sabina's eafy fhape and air

With fofter magick drew.

He haunts the stream, he haunts the grove, Lives in a fond romance of love,

And seems for each to dye; 'Till each a little fpiteful grown, Sabina Cælia's Shape ran drown,

And the Sabina's eye.
Their envy made the shepherd find.
Thofe eyes, which love cou'd only blind,
So fet the lover free;

No more he haunts the grove or stream,
Or with a true-love-knot and name
Engraves a wounded tree.

Ah Cælia! (fly Sabina cry'd)
Tho' neither love, we're both deny'd;
Now to fupport the fex's pride,

Let either fix the dart,

Poor girl (fays Cælia) fay no more;
For fhou'd the fwain but one adore,
That fpite which broke his chains before,
Wou'd break the other's heart.

SON G.

MY days have been fo wond'rous free,
The little birds that fly

With careless cafe from tree to tree,
Were but as bleft as I.
Afk gliding waters, if a tear

Of mine increas'd their ftream!
Or afk the flying gales, if e'er
1 lent one figh to them?
But now my former days retire,

And I'm by beauty caught,
The tender chains of fweet defire
Are fix'd upon my thought.
Ye nightingales, ye twifting pines!
Ye fwains that haunt the grove!
Ye gentle echoes, breezy winds !
Ye clofe retreats of love!
With all of nature, all of art,
Affift the dear defign;

O teach a young, unpractis'd heart,
To inake my Nancy mine.
The very thought of change I hate,
As much as of defpair;
Nor ever covet to be great,

Unless it be for her.
'Tis true, the paffion in my mind
Is mix'd with soft diftrefs;
Yet while the fair I love is kind,
I cannot wish it lefs.

ANACREONTIC K.

WHEN fpring came on with fresh delight,
To cheer the foul, and charm the fight,

While eafy breezes, fof.er rain,
And warmer funs falute the plain;
'Twas in yonder piny grove,
That Nature went to meet with Love.

Green was her robe, and green her wreath,
Where e'er the trod, 'twas green beneath;
Where e'er fhe turn'd, the pulfe: beat
With new recruits of genial heat;
And in her train the birds appear,
To match for all the coming year.
Rais'd on a bank, where daifies grew,
And vi'iets intermix'd a blue,
She finds the boy she went to find;
A thousand pleafores wait behind,
Afide, a thoufand arrows lye,
But all unfeather'd wait to fly.

When they met, the dame and boy, Dancing graces, idle joy,

Wanton fmiles, and airy play,
Confpir'd to make the fcene be gay;
Love pair'd the birds through all the grove,
And N ture bid them fing to Love,
Sitting, hopping, Autt'ring, fing,
And pay their tribute from the wing,
To fledge the fhafts that dly lye,
And yet unfeather d wait to fly.

'Tis thus, when fpring renews the blood,
They meet in ev'ry trembling wood,
And thrice they make the plumes agree,
And ev'ry dart they mount with three,
And ev'ry dart can boast a kind,
Which fuits each proper turn of mind.

From the tow 'ring Eagle's plume
The gen'rous hearts accept their doom;
Shot by the peacock's painted eye
The vin nd airy lovers dye :
For careful dames and frugal men,
The fhafts are fpeckled by the hen.
The pyes and parrots deck the darts,
When prattling wns the painting hearts;
When from the voice the paffions fpring,
The warbling finch affords a wing:
Together, by the fparrow ftung,
Down fall the wanton and the young :
And fled 'd by geeft the weapons fly,
When others love they know not why.

All this (as late I chanc'd to rove)
I learn'd in yonder waving grove.
And fee, fays Love, (who call'd me near)
How much I deal with Nature here,
How both fupport a proper part,
She gives the feather, i the dart :
Then ceafe for fouls averfe to figh,
If Nature crofs ye, fo do I ;
My weapon there unfeather'd flies,
And shakes and fhuffles through the fkies.
But if the mutual charms I find

By which the links you mind to mind,
They wing my harts, I poize the darts,

And strike from both, through both your hearts.

ANACREONTI C.

GAY

Bacchus liking Eftcourt's wine,
A noble meal bespoke us ;
And for the guests that were to dine,
Brought Comus, Love, and Jocus.
The God near Cupid drew his chair,
Near Comus, Jocus plac'd;
For wine makes Love forgot its care,
And mirth exalts a feast.

The more to please the sprightly God,
Each fweet engaging grace
Put on fome cloaths to come abroad,
And took a waiter's place.
Then Cupid nam'd at every glass
A lady of the sky;

While Bacchus fwore he'd drink the lafs,
And had it bumper high.

Fat Comus toft his Brimmers o'er,
And always got the most ;
Jocus took care to fill him mere,
When er he mift the toast.

They call'd and drank at every touch;

He fill'd, and drank again;

And if the Gods can take too much,

'Tis faid, they did fo then.

Gay Bacchus little Cupid ftung,

By reck'ning his deceits;

Ana Cupid mock'd his ftammering tongue,
With all his itagg'ring gaits:

And jocus droll'd on Comus' ways,

And tales without a jeft ;

While Comus call'd his witty plays

But waggeries at best.

Such talk foon fet them all at odds;

And, had i Homer's pen,

I'd fing ye, how they drunk like Gods,
And how they fought like men.

To part the fray, the graces fly,

Who make them foon agree;
Nay had the furies felves been nigh,
They ftill were three to three.
Bacchus appeas'd, rais'd Cupid up,
And gave him back his bow;
But kept fome darts to ftir the cup,
Where fack and fugar flow.
Jocus took Comus' rofy crown,

And gayly wore the prize,

And thrice, in mirth, he pufh'd him down,
As thrice, he strove to rise.

Then Cupid fought the myrtle grove,
Where Venus did recline;

And Venus clofe embracing Love,
They join'd to rail at wine.
And Comus loudly curfing wit,
Roll'd off to fome retreat,
Where boon companions gravely fit
In fat unwieldy state.
Bacchus and Jocus, ftill behind,

For one fresh glass prepare;
They kifs, and are exceeding kind,
And vow to be fincere.

-But part in time, whoever hear

This our inftructive fong;
For though fuch friendships may be dear,
They can't continue long.

A FAIRY TALE:

In the ancient English Style.

IN Britain's ife and Arthur's days,
When midnight fairies daunc'd the maze,
Liv'd Edwin of the green;
Edwin, I wis, a gentle youth,
Endow'd with courage, fenfe and truth,
Tho' badly fhap'd he been.

His mountain back mote well be faid
To measure heighth against his head,
And lift itself above;

Yet fpite of all that nature did
To make has uncouth form forbid,
'This creature dar'd to love..
He felt the charms of Edith's eyes,
Nor wanted hope to gain the prize,
Cou'd ladies look within;

But one Sir Topaz drefs'd with art,
And, if a shape could win a heart,
He had a shape to win.

Edwin (if right I read my fong)
With flighted paffion pac'd along
All in the moony light:
'Twas near an old enchanted court,
Where sportive fairies made refort
To revel out the night.

His heart was drear, his hope was crofs'd,
'I'was late, 'twas far, the path was loft

That reach'd the neighbour-town; With weary eps he quits the fhades, Refolv'd the fparkling dome the treads, And drops his limbs adown.

But fcant he lays him on the floor,
When hollow winds remove the door,
A trembling rocks the ground:
And (well I ween to count aright)
At once an hundred tapers light
On all the walls around.

Now founding tongues affail his ear,
Now founding feet approachen near,
And now the founds encrease:
And from the corner where he lay
He fees a train profufely gay

Come prankling o'er the place.
But (truft me gentles !) never yet
Was dight a mafquing half so neat,
Or half fo rich before:
The country lent the fweet perfumes,
The fea the pearl, the fky the plumes,
The town its filken ftore.

Now whilst he gaz'd, a gallant dreft
In flaunting robes above the rest,
With awful accent ry'd ;
What mortal of a wretched mind,
Whofe fight infect the balmy wind,
Has here prefum'd to hide?
At this the fwain, whofe vent'rous foul
No fears of magick art controul,

Advanc'd in open light; "Nor have I caufe of dread, he faid, "Who view, by no prefumption led, "Your revels of the night. ""Twas grief, for fcorn of faithful love, Which made my steps unweeting rove, "Amid the nightly dew." 'Tis well, the gallant crys again, We fairies never injure men Who dare to tell us true. Exalt thy love-dejected heart, Be mine the task, or e'er we part, To make thee grief refign; Now take the pleasure of thy chaunce, Whilft I with Mab my partner daunce, Be little Mable thine.