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TO a LADY of QUALITY,* The fields have left their lovely dye

Nu chearful azure decks the sky;

Yet itill we bless the louring day;
Fitting up her Library. 1738. Afteria smiles and all is gay.

Hence let the muse no more presume,
H! what is science, what is art,

To blame the winter's dreary gloom; Or what the pleasure these impart; Accuse his loitering hours no more; Ye trophies, which the learn'd pursue

But ah ! their envious halte deplore ! Through endless fruitless coils adicu!

For foon, from wit and friendship's reigs, What can the tedious tomés bestow,

The social hearth, the sprightly vein, To soothe the miseries they show ?

I go-to meet the coming year, What, like the bliss for him decreed,

On savage plains, and deserts drear! Who tends his flock, and tunes his reed !

I go-to feed on pleasures flown, Say, wretched fancy ! thus refin'd

Nor find the spring my loss atone ! From all that glads the simplest hind,

But 'mid the flowery sweets of May
How rare that object which supplies

With pride recal this winter's day.
A charm for too discerning eyes !
The polish'd bard, of genius vain,
Endures a deeper sense of pain :
As each invading blaft devours

An Irregular ODE after SICKNESS, The'richest fruits, the fairest flowers.

1749. Sages, with irksome waste of time,

- Melius, cum venerit ipsa, canemus. The steep ascent of knowledge climb; Then from the towering heights they scale, TO

100 long a stranger to repose, Behold contentment range-the vale.

At length from pain's abhorred couch I rose

And wạnder'd forth alone; Yet why, Atteria, tell us why

To court once more the balmy breeze, We fcorn the crowd, when you are nigh;

And catch the verdure of the trees, Why then does reason seem so fair,

Ere yet their charms were flown. Why learning, then, deserve our care ?

'Twas from a bank with pansies gay Who can unpleas'd your shelves behold, While you so fair a proof unfold

I haild once more the chearful day,

The sun's forgotten beams : What force the brightest genius draws

O fun! how pleasing were thy rays. From polish'd wisdom's written laws ?

Reflected from the polith'd face
Where are our humbler tenets flown?

Of yon refulgent Ireams !
What strange perfection bids us own
That bliss with toilsome science dwells,

Rais'd by che scene, my feeble tongue

Essay'd ágain the sweets of song : And happiest he, who most excells ?

And thus, in feeble strains and flow,

The loitering numbers 'gan to Anw.
Come, gentle air ! my languid limbs restore,
And bid me welcome from the Stygian fhore:

For sure I heard the tender fighs,
Upon a VISIT to the same, in WIN.
TER, 1748.

I seem'd to join the plaintive cries
Of hapless youths, who through the myrtle grove

Bewail for ever their unfinith'd love :
N fair Asteria's blissful plains,

To that unjoyous clime,

Torn from the light of these etherial skies ; How pleas'd we pass the winter's day ;

Debarr'd the lustre of their Delia's cyes; And Charn the dull ey'd spleen away!

And banish'd in their prime. No linnet, from the leafless bough,

Come, gentle air ! and, while the thickers bloom, Pours forth her note melodious now;

Convey the jasmine's breath divine ; But all admire Alteria's tongue,

Convey the woodbine's rich perfume, Nor with the linnet's vernal song.

Nor spare the sweet-leaft eglantine. No flower's emit their trarûent rays :

And may'st thou fhun the rugged storm Yet sure Asteria's wit displays

Till health her wonted charins explain, More various tints, more glowing lincs,

With rural pleasure in her train, And with perennial beauty shines.

To greet me in her faireft form.

While from this lofty mount 1 view Though rified groves and fetter'd freams

The sons of wealth, the vulgar crew, But ill befriend a poet's dreams:

Anxious for futile gains bencath me stray, Arteria's presence wakes the lyrc;

And seek with erring step contentment's obviou And well supplies poetic fire.

way. * Lady Luxborough,

Comes

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Cume, gentle air! and thou, celestial Muse, To fence for you my ma ly grove,
Thy genial flame infuse ;

And scollop every winding shore;
Enough to lend a pen Gve bosom'aid,

And fringe with every purple rose,
And gild retirement's gloomy shade ; The fapphire Aream that down my valley flows ?

Enough to rear such rustic lays
As focs may Night, but partial friends will praise."

Ah! lovely treacherous maids !

To quit unseen my votive shades,
The gentle air allow'd my claim ;

When pale disease, and torturing pain,
And, more to chear my drooping frame, Had torn me from the breezy plain,
She mix'd the balm of opening fowers ; And to a restless couch confin',
Such as the bee, with chemic powers,

Who ne'er your wonted tasks decliu'd.
From Hybla's fragrant hills inhales,

She needs not your officious aid Or scents Sabea's blooming vales.

To swell the song, or plan the shado; But ah! the nymphs that heal the pensive mind

By genuine fancy fir'd, By prescripts more refin'd,

Her native genius guides her hand, Negled their votary's anxious moan

And while she marks the sage command, Oh, how should they relicve !--The Muses all More love!y scenes her kill shall raise, were flown.

Her lyre resounit with nobler lays By flowery plain, or woodland shades,

Than ever you inspir’d. i fondly sought the charming maids;

Thus I may rage and grief display ; By woodland shades, or flowery plain,

But vainly blame, and vainly mourn, 1 sought them, faithless maids! in vain ! Nor will a Grace or Muse return When lo ! in happier hour,

Till Luxborough lead the way.
I leave behind my native mead.
To range where zcal and friendship lead,

To visit Luxborough's honour'd bower.
Ah foolish man ! to seek thc tuneful maids
Oa other plains, or near less verdant shades;

To a LADY, with some coloured PatScarce have my foot-steps press'd the favour'd terns of Flowers, Oct. 7, 1736.

ground,
When sounds etherial frike my ear ;
At once celestial forms appear ;

Madam,
My fugitives are found !
The Muses here actune their lyres,

HOUGH rude the draughts, though art less Ah partial! with unwonted fires ;

seem the lines, Here, hand in hand, with careless mien,

From one urskill'd in verse, or in designs; The sportive Graces trip the green.

Oft has good- ature been the fool's desen:e,

And honest meaning gilded want of fenic
But whilft I wander'd o'er a scene so fair,
Too well at one survey I trace,

Fear not, though flowers and beauty grace my How every Muse, and every Grace,

lay, Had lorg employ'd their care.

To praile one fair, another shall decay. Lurks not a ftonc enrich'd with lively stain, No lily, bright with painted foliage, here,

Blooms not a flower amid the vernal itore, Shall only languish, when Selinda's near :
Falls not a plumc on India's distant plain, A Fate revers d'no fiiling rose shall know,

Glows not a shell on Adria's rocky shore. Nor with reflectei luitre doubly glow.
But, toro mechought from native lands and seas, Praises which languish when apply'd to you,
From their arrangement gain freth power to Where flattering ichemcs svem obviously truc.
please.

Yet sure your sex is near to flowers ally'd,
And some had bent the wildering maze,

Alike in foseness, and alike in pride : Bedeck'd with every shrub that blow: ;

Foes to retreat, and ever fond to shine, And some entwin'd the willing sprays,

Both rush to canyer, and the shades deciine ; To fhield th' illustrious dame's repose :

Expos'd, the short-liv'd pageints of a day; Others had grac'd the sprightly dome,

To painted Aies or glittering fops a prey: And taught the portrait where to glow ;

Chang'd with each wind, uor one (hort day the

fame, Uchers arrang'd the curious tome ;

Each clouded sky affuels their tender frame,
Or, mid the decorated space,
Allign'd the laurel'd buit a place,

In glaring Chioc's man-like taste and miin,
And given to learning all the pomp of low. are the gross splendors of the Tulip Seen:
And now from every talk withdrawn,

Distant they itrike, inelegaatly gay, They met and frisk'd it o'er the lawa.

To the near view no plcaling charnis display,

To form the nympn, a vulgar wit must ;vin, Ah! woc is me, faid l;

As coarser foils will most the flower refine. Anil * • *'s hi'ly circuit heard my cry,

Ophelia's beautics lec the Jasmine paint, Have I for this with labour Arove,

Too faintly fult, too nicely elegant. And lavida'd all my little ftore

Around

mouth. 1753-4.

Around with seeming sanctity endued,

Not like a fire, which, whilst it burns, alarms; The Pallion-flower may best express the Prude. A modest flame, that gently lines and warms: Like the gay Rose, too rigiil Silvia thines, Whose mind, in every light, can charms display, While, like its guardian thorn, her virtue joins With wisdom serious, and with humour gay; Happy the nymph! from all their failures free, Just as her eyes in each bright posture warm, Hippy the nymph! in whom their charms agree. And fiercely strike, or languishingly charm:

Such are your horrours-mention's to your cost, Faint these produ&ions, till you bid disclose,

Those least can hear them, who deserve thene The Pink new splendors, and fresh tints the Rose: most: And yet condemned not trivial draughts like these, Yet ah forgive the less inventive Muse, Form’d to improve, and make ev'n trifles please. If e'er the fing, a copious theme must chuse. A power like yours minuter beauties warms, And yet can blałt the most afpiring charms Thus, at the rays whence other objects shine, The taper fickens, and its flames decline. When by your art the purple Violet lives,

Written in a Flower Book of my ow And the pale Lily sprightlier charms receives : Garters to me shall glow inferior far,

Colouring, designed for Lady Plyo And with less pleasing luftre shine the star.

Let serious trillers, fond of wealth or fame,' On toils like these beltow too soft a name;

is Debitæ nymphis opifex coronæ.” HOR. Each gentler art with wise indifference view, And scorn one trifle, ulions to pursue :

BRING, Flora, bring the treasures here, More artsui I, their specious schemes deride : The pride of all the blooming year ; Fond to please you, by you in these employd;

And let me, thence, a garland frame, A nobler task, or more sublime defire,

To crown this fair, this peerless dame! Ambition ne'er could form, nor pride inspire :

But ah! since envious winter lours, The sweets of tranquil life and rural ease

And Heweli meads resign their flowers, Amuse securely, nor less justly please.

Let art and friendship joint essay Where gentle pleaasure shows her milder power,

Diffuse their flowerets, in her way.
Or blooms in fruit, or sparkles in the flower;
Smiles in the groves, the raptur'd poet's theme; Not nature can herself prepare
Flows in the brook, his Naiad of the steam; A worthy wreath for Lesbia's hair,
Dawns, with each happier stroke the pencil gives, Whose temper, like her forehead, iniooth,
And, in each livelier image, smiling lives; Whose thoughts and accents forni'd to soothe,
Is heard, when Silvia strikes the warbling strings, whose pleasing mien, and make refin'd,
Selinda speaks, or Philomela fings:

Whose artless breast, and polish'd mind,
Breathes with the morn; attends, propitious maid, from all ihe nymphs of plain or grove,
The evening ramble, and the noon day glade; Deserv'd and won my Plymouth's love.
Somc visionary fair fhe cheats our view,
Then only vigorous, when she's seen like you.
Yet nature some for sprightlier joys design'd,
For brigh

scenes, with nicer care, refin'd;
When the gay jewel radiant streams fupplies, AN ACREONTIC. 1738.
And vivid brilliants meet your brighter eyes;
When dress and pomp around the fancy play,
By fortune's dazzling beauties borne away:

TWÀS in a cool Aonian glade, W!. , theatres for you the scenes forego,

The wanton Cupid, spent with toil, And the box bows, obsequiously low:

Had fought refreshment from the shade; How dull the plan which indolence has drawn,

And Itretch'd him on the mosty soil. The mosly grotto, or the flowery lawn!

A vagrant Muse drew nigh, and found Though roseate scents in every wind exhale,

The subtile traitor fast asleep; And sylvan warblers charm in every gale. And is it thine to snore profound, Of those be her's the choice, whom all approve;

She said, yet leave the world to weep? And whom, but those who envy, all must love :

But hukh-from this auspicious hour, By pature modeld, by experience taught,

The world, I ween, may rest in peace; To know and pity every female fault:

And, robb’d of darts, and Itript of power,
Pleas'd ev'n to hear her sex's virtues shewn,
And blind to none's perfections but her own:

Thy pcevish petulance decrease.
Whilst, humble fair! of these too few she knows, Sleep on, poor child! whuit I withdran
Yet owns too many for the world's repose :

And this thy vile artillery hide-
From wit's wild petulance serenely free,

When the Caitalion fount she faw, Yet bleft in all that nature can decree.

And pung'd his arrows in the tidco

'T"

That

As partial to their words we prove;
Then boldly join the lists of love,

With towering hopes fupply'd:
See heroes, caught by doubtful shrines,
Mistook. their deity's designs;

Then took the field--and dy'd.

That magic fount ill-judging maid !

Shall cause you foon to curse the day You dar'd the shafts of love invade ;

And gave his arms redoubled fway. For in a stream so wonderou's clear,

When angry Cupid searches round, Will not the radiant points appear ?

Will not the furtive spoils be found? Too soon they were; and every dart,

Dipt in the Mufe's myftic spring, Acquir'd new force to wound the heart;

And taught at once to love and fing. Then farewel, ye Pierian quire ;

For who will now your altars throng? From love we learn to swell the lyre ;

And echo aiks no sweeter song.

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OD E. Written 1739.

Urit fpes animi credula mutui.” Hor.

',

TWAS not by beauty's aid alone,

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His boasted power display'd;
'Tis kindness that secures his aim,
'Tis hope that feeds the kindling flame,

Which beauty first convey'd.
In Clara's eyes, the lightnings view;
Her lips with all the rose's hue

Have all its sweets combin'd ;
Yet vain the blush, and faint thc fire,
'Till lips at once, and eyes conspire

To prove the charmer kind-
Though wit might gild the tempting (nare,
With softest accent, sweetest air,

By envy's self admir'd:
If Lesbia's wit betray'd her scorn,
In vain might every Grace adorn

What every Muse inspir’d.
Thus airy Strephon tun'd his lyre-
He scorn'd the pangs of wild desire,

Which love-lick Twains endure:
Resolv'd to brave the keenest dart;
Since frowns could never wound his heart;

And smiles-must ever cure.
But ah! how false these maxims prove,
How frail security from love,

Experience hourly shows !
Love can imagin'd smiles supply,
On every charming lip and eye

Eternal sweets bestows.
In vain we truit the fair-one's eyes;
In vain the sage explores the ikies,

To learn from stars his fate :
Till, led by fancy wide astray,
He finds no planet mark his way;

Convinc'i and wisc--too late.

Tear bedews my Delia's eye,

To think yon playful kid must die;
From crystal spring and flowery mead,
Must, in his prime of life, recede!
Erewhile, in sportive circles round
She saw him wheel, and frisk, and bound;
From rock to rock pursue his way,
And, on the fearful margin, play.
Pleas'd on his various freaks co dwell,
She saw him climb my rustic cell :
Thence eye my lawns with verdure brigh
And seem all ravilh'd at the fight.
She tells, with what delight he stood,
To trace his features in the flood :
Then skip'd aloof with quaint amazė;
And then drew near again to gaze.
She tells me how with eager speed
He flew, to hear my vocal reed;
And how with critic face profound,
And stedfast ear, devour'd the sound,
His every frolic, light as air
Deserves the gentle Delia's carc;
And tears bedew her tender eye,
To think the playful kid must die.-
But knows my Delia, timely wise,
How foon this blameless æra fies?
While violence and craft succeed;
Unfair design, and ruthless deed!
Soon would the vine his wounds deplore,
And yield her purple gifts no more;
Ah soon, eras'd from every grove
Were Delia's name, and Strephon's love.
No more those bowers might Strephon see,
Where first he fondly gaz'd on thee;
No more those beds of flowerets find,

hich for thy charming brows he twin'd.
Each wayward passion foon would tear
His bofom, now so void of care;
And, when they left his ebbing vein,
What, but infipid age, remain ?
Then mourn not the decrees of fate,
That gave his life so fore a date;
And I will join thy tenderet sighs,
To think that yauch to (wiftly flies!

SONGS

and 1742

!

S O N Ġ S, And cruel 'twere a free-born fwain,

A British youth, should vainly moan; Written chiefly between the Years 1737 Who, scornful of a tyrant's chain,

Submits to yours, and yours alonc,

Nor pointed spcar, nor links of steel,
SO NG 1.

Could e'er those gallant minds subdue,

Who beauty's wounds with pleasure feel, Told my nymph, I told her true,

And boat the fetters wrought by you.
I

My fields were small, my Alocks were few ;
While faultering accents spoke my fear,
That Flavia might not prove

fincere.

SO NG IV. The Sky-LSRK. of crops destroy'd by vernal cold, And vagrant sheep that left my fold: Of these she heard, yet bore to hear;

O, tuneful bird, that glad't the skies And is not Flavia then sincere!

And there on quivering pinions rise,
How chang'd by fortune's fickle wind,

And there thy vocal art display.
The friends I lov'd became unkind,
She heard, and shed a generous tear ;

And if the deign thy notes to hear,
And is not Flavia then fincere ?

And if thc praise thy matin song,

Tell her, the sounds that soothe her ear,
How, if the deign my love to bless,

To Damon's native plains belong.
My Flavia must not hope for dress;
This too she heard, and (mild to hear;

Tell her, in livelier plumes array'd,
And Flavia sure must be sincere.

The bird from Indian groves may shine;

But ask the lovely partial maid,
Go fhear your flocks, ye jovial (wains,

What are his notes compar'd to thine ?
Go reap the plenty of your plains;
Dispoii'd of all which you reverc,

Then bid her treat yon witless beau
I know my Flavia's love's sincerc.

And all his flaunting race with scorn;
And lend an ear to Damon's

woe,
Who sings her praise, and fin, s forlors.

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“ Ah! ego non aliter tristes evincere morbos
" Optarem, quam te fic quoque velle putere."

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TOW pleas'd within my native bowers

Ere while I pass'd che day!
Was ever scene so deck'd with flowers?

Were ever flowers so gay?
How sweetly smild the hill, the valo

And all the landskip round!
The river gliding down the dale !

The hill with beeches crown'd!
But now, when urg'd by tender woos

I speed to meet my dear,
That hill and stream my zcal oppose,

And check my fond career.
No more, since Daphne was my theme,

Their wonted charnis I see :
That verdant hill, and ilver stream,

Divide my love and me.

N every tree, in every plain,,

I trace the jovial spring in vain!
A fickly languor veils mine eyer,
And fast my waning vigour flies.
Nor flowery plain, nor budding tree,
That smile on others, smile on me;
Mine eyes from death shall court repose,
Nor shed a tear before they close.
What bliss to me can seasons bring ?
Or what the needless pride of spring?
The cypress bough, that suits the bier,
Retains its verdure all the year.
'l is true, my vine so fresh and fair
Might claim a while my wonted care;
My rural store some pleasure yield;
So white a flock, so green a field!
My friends, that each in kindness visa
Might well expect one parting ligh;
Might well demand one tender tear;
For when was Damon unsincere?
But ere I ask once more to view
Yon setting fun his race renew,
Inform me, fwains; my friends, declare,
Will pitying Delia join the prayer ?

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