Satyrs and Lylvan boys were feen,

Peeping from forth their alleys green;

Brown Exercife rejoic'd to hear,

Fair Fancy wept; and echoing fighs confefs'd
A fixt despair in every tuneful breaft.
Not with more grief th' amicted fwains appear,

Latt came Joy's ecftatic trial,

He, with viny crown advancing,

First to the lively pipe his hand addreft,

But foon he faw the brifk-awakening viol,

Whofe fweet entrancing voice he lov'd the beft.

They would have thought, who heard the train,

They faw in Tempe's vale her native maids,
Amidst the feftal founding thades,
To fome unwearied minstrel dancing,

While, as his flying fingers kifs'd the strings,
Love tram'd with Mirth a gay fantastic round,
Loofe were her treffes feen, her zone unbound,
And he, amidst his frolic play,

As if he would the charming air repay,
Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings,
O Mufic, fphere-defcended maid,
Friend of pleasure, wifdom's aid,
Why, Goddefs, why to us denied?
Lay'st thou thy ancient lyre afide?
As in that lov'd Athenian bower,

You learn'd an all-commanding power,
Thy mimic foul, O nymph endear'd,
Can well recal what then it heard.
Where is thy native fimple heart,
Devote to virtue, fancy, art?
Arife, as in that elder time,
Warm, energetic, chafte, fublime!
Thy wonders, in that god-like age,
Fill thy recording fifter's page-
'Tis faid, and I believe the tale,
Thy humbleft reed could more prevail,
Had more of farength, diviner rage,
Than all which charms this laggard age,
Ev'n all at once together found
Cecilia's mingled world of found-
O, bid our vain endeavours ceafe,
Receive the juft defigns of Greece,
Return in all thy fimple state!
Confirm the tales her fons relate!

When lingering frofts the ruin'd feats invade Where Peace reforted, and the Graces play'd.

Each rifing art by just gradation moves, Toil builds on toil, and age on age improves : The Mufe alone unequal dealt her rage, And grac'd with noblest pomp her earliest ftage. Preferv'd through time, the speaking scenes impart Each changeful with of Phadra's tortur'd heart : Or paint the curfe that mark'd the Theban's

reign,

A bed incefluous, and a father flain.
With kind concern our pitying eyes o'erflow,
Trace the fad tale, and own another's woe.
To Rome remov'd, with wit fecure to please,
The comic fifters keep their native ease.
With jealous fear declining Greece beheld
Her own Menander's art almost excell'd!
But every Mufe effay'd to raife in vain
Some labour'd rival of her tragic strain ;
Ilyffus' laurels, though transferr'd with toil,
Drop'd their fair leaves, nor knew th' unfriendly
fo.l.

As arts expir'd, refiftiefs Dulness rofe; Goths, Priefts, or Vandals,-all were learning's foes.

Till Julius first recall'd each exil'd maid,
And Cofmo own'd them in th' Etrurian frade;
Then, deeply skill'd in love's engaging theme,
The foft Provencial pafs'd to Arno's stream :
With graceful eafe the wanton lyre he firung,
Sweet flow'd the lays-but love was all he fung.
The gay defcription could not fail to move;
For, led by nature, all are friends to love.

But heaven, ftill various in its works, decreed
The perfect boast of time should last fucceed.
The beauteous union must appear at length,
Of Tuscan fancy, and Athenian ftrength :
One greater Mufe Eliza's reign adorn,
And ev'n a Shakespear to her fame be born!

Yet, ah! fo bright her morning's opening ray, In vain our Britain hop'd an equal day ! No fecond growth the western ifle could bear, At once exhaufted with too rich a year. Too nicely Jonfon knew the critic's part ; Naturein hin was almost loft in Art. Of fofter mould the gentle Fletcher came, The next in order, as the next in name.

of Shakespeare's Works.

Each glowing thought, that warms the female mind;

Each melting figh, and every tender tear,
The lover's withes, and the virgin's fear.
His every strain the Smiles and Graces own;
But ftronger Shakespeare felt for man alone :
Drawn by his pen, our ruder paffions stand
Th' unrival'd picture of his early hand.

The Oedipus of Sophocles.

+ Julius H. the immediate predeceffor of Iren X, Their characters are thus diftinguished by Mr. Dryden.

*With gradual steps, and flow, exacter France Saw Art's fair empire o'er her shores advance: By length of toil a bright perfection knew, Correctly bold, and just in all she drew. Till late Corneille, with † Lucan's spirit fir'd Breath'd the free strain, as Rome and he inspir'd: And claffic judgment gain'd to fweet Racine The temperate ftrength of Maro's chafter line.

But wilder far the British laurel spread, And wreaths lefs artful crown our poet's head. Yet he alone to every fcene could give Th' hiftorian's truth, and bid the manners live. Wak'd at his call Iview, with glad furprize, Majestic forms of mighty monarchs rife. There Henry's trumpets spread their loud alarms, And laurel'd Conqueft waits her hero's arms. Her gentler Edward claims a pitying figh, Scarce born to honours, and fo foon to die! Yet fhali thy throne, unhappy infant, bring No beam of comfort to the guilty king:

The time fhall come when Glo'fter's heart shall bleed:

In life's latt hours, with horror of the deed:
When dreary vifions fhall at laft present
The vengeful image in the midnight tent:
Thy hand unfeen the secret death shall bear,
Blunt the weak fword, and break th' oppreffive
fpear.

Wheree'er we turn, by fancy charm'd, we find
Some fweet illufions of the cheated mind.
Oft, wild of wing, fhe calls the foul to rove
With humbler nature, in the rural grove;
Where fwains contented own the quiet fcene,
And twilight fairies tread the circled green :
Drefs'd by her hand, the woods and vallies fmile,
And Spring diffufive decks th' inchanted ifle.

O, more than all in powerful genius bleft, Come, take thine empire o'er the willing breaft! Whate'er the wounds this youthful heart fhall feel, Thy fongs fupport me, and thy morals heal! There every thought the poet's warmth may raise, Their native mufic dwells in all the lays. O, might fome verfe with happieft fkill perfuade Expreffive Picture to adopt thine aid!

What wondrous draughts might rife from every page!

What other Raphael charm a distant age!
Methinks ev'n now I view fome free defign,
Where breathing Nature lives in every line:
Chafte and fubdued the modeft lights decay,
Steal into fhades, and mildly melt away.
-And fee, where ‡ Anthony, in tears approv'd,
Guards the pale relics of the chief he lov'd:
O'er the cold corfe the warrior seems to bend,
Deep funk in grief, and mourns his murder'd friend!
Still as they prefs, he calls on all around,
Lifts the torn robe, and points the bleeding wound.

* About the time of Shakespeare, the poet Hardy was in great repute in France. He wrote, according to Fontenelle, fix hundred plays. The French poets after him applied themselves in general to the correct improvement of the stage, which was almost totally difregarded by thofe of our own country, Jonfon excepted.

The favourite author of the elder Corneille.
See the tragedy of Julius Cæfar.

But who is he, whofe brows exalted bear A wrath impatient, and a fiercer air? Awake to all that injur'd worth can feel, On his own Rome he turns th' avenging steel. Yet fhall not war's infatiate fury fall, (So heaven ordains it) on the deftin'd wall. See the fond mother, 'midst the plaintive train, Hung on his knees, and proftrate on the plain! Touch'd to the foul, in vain he strives to hide The fon's affection, in the Roman's pride: O'er all the man conflicting paffions rife, Rage grafps the fword, while pity melts the eyes. Thus, generous Critic, as thy bard inspires, The Sifter Arts shall nurse their drooping fires: Each from his fcenes her ftores alternate bring, Blend the fair tints, or wake the vocal string: Thofe Sibyl-leaves, the fport of every wind, (For poets ever were a careless kind) By thee difpos'd, no farther toil demand, But, juft to nature, own thy forming hand.

So fpread o'er Greece, th' harmonious whole unknown,

Ev'n Homer's numbers charm'd by parts alone.
Their own Ulyffes fcarce had wander'd more,
By winds and waters caft on every shore :
When rais'd by fate, fome former Hanmer join'd,
Each beauteous image of the boundless mind;
And bade, like thee, his Athens ever claim
A fond alliance with the Poet's name.

Each lonely scene fhall thee reftore,

For thee the tear be duly fhed; Belov'd, till life can charm no more; And mourn'd, till Pity's felf be dead.

O DE

ON THE DEATH OF MR. THOMSON.

The Scene of the following Stanzas is fuppofed to lie on the Thames, near Richmond.

I.

N yonder grave a Druid lies

Where flowly winds the stealing wave! The year's best sweets shall duteous rife, To deck its Poet's fylvan grave!

II.

In yon deep bed of whispering reeds
His airy harp * shall now be laid,
That he, whofe heart in forrow bleeds,
May love through life the foothing shade.

III.

Then maids and youths fhall linger here,
And, while its founds at diftance fwell,
Shall fadly feem in Pity's ear

To hear the woodland pilgrim's knell.
IV.

Remembrance oft fhall haunt the shore
When Thames in fummer wreaths is drest,
And oft fufpend the dashing oar

To bid his gentle spirit reft!

V.

And oft as Eafe and Health retire

To breezy lawn, or foreft deep,
The friend thall view yon whitening † fpire,
And 'mid the varied landscape weep.
VI.

But thou, who own'st that earthly bed,
Ah! what will every dirge avail ?
Or tears, which Love and Pity shed
That mourn beneath the gliding fail !
VII.

Yet lives there one, whofe heedless eye
Shall fcorn thy pale shrine glimmering near ?
With him, fweet bard, may Fancy die,
And joy defert the blooming year.
VIII.

But thou, lorn ftream, whofe fullen tide
No fedge-crown'd fifters now attend,
Now waft me from the green hill's fide
Whofe cold turf hides the buried friend!!
IX.

And fee, the fairy vallies fade,

Dun night has veil'd the folemn view!
Yet once again, dear parted shade,
Meek nature's child, again adieu !

cake,

With virtue's awe forbear the facred prize,
Nor dare a theft for love and pity's fake!
This precious relick, form'd by magic power,
Beneath the fhepherd's haunted pillow laid,
Was meant by love to charm the filent hour,
The fecret prefent of a matchless maid.

The Cyprian queen, at Hymen's fond request,
Each nice ingredient chose with happiest art;
Fears, fighs, and wishes of th' enamour'd breast,
And pains that please are mixt in every part.

With rofy hand the spicy fruit fhe brought,
From Paphian hills, and fair Cytherea's ifle;
And temper'd sweet with thefe the melting thought,
The kifs ambrofial, and the yielding smile.
Ambiguous looks, that fcorn and yet relent,
Denials mild, and firm unalter'd truth,
Reluctant pride, and amorous faint confent,
And meeting ardours, and exulting youth.

Sleep, wayward God! hath fworn, while thefe remain,

With flattering dreams to dry his nightly tear,
And chearful hope, so oft invok'd in vain,
With fairy fongs fhall footh his penfive ear.

If, bound by vows to friendship's gentle fide,
And fond of foul, thou hop'it an equal grace,
If youth or maid thy joys and griefs divide,
O, much intreated leave this fatal place.

Sweet Peace, who long hath fhunn'd my plaintive day,

Confents at length to bring me fhort delight, Thy carele fteps may fcare her doves away, And Grief with raven note ufurp the night.

* Mr. Thomson refided in the neighbourhood of Richmond fome time before his death,

Have feen thee lingering with a fond delay,

Mid thofe foft friends, whofe hearts fome future day,

*

II.

There, muft thou wake perforce thy Doric quill;
'Tis Fancy's land to which thou fett'ft thy feet;
Where ftill, 'tis faid, the fairy people meet,
Beneath each birken fhade, on mead or hill.
There, each trim lafs, that fkims the milky ftore
To the fwart tribes, their creamy bowls allots;
By night they fip it round the cottage-door,

While airy minstrels warble jocund notes.
There, every herd, by fad experience, knows
How, wing'd with Fate, their elf-fhot arrows
Ay,

When the fick ewe her fummer food foregoes,
Or, ftretch'd on earth, the heart-fmit heifers lie.
Such airy beings awe th' untutor'd swain :
Nor thou, tho' Itarn'd, his homelier thoughts
negle&t;

Let thy fweet Mufe the rural faith sustain ;

Thefe are the themes' of fimple, fure effect, That add new conqueft to her boundless reign, And fill, with double force, her heart-commanding ftrain.

iv.

'Tis thine to fing, how, framing hideous fpells,
In Sky's lone ifle, the gifted wizzard-feer,
Lodg'd in the wintery cave with Fate's fell fpear,
Or in the depth of Uift's dark foreft dwells:

How they, whofe fight fuch dreary dreams
engrofs,

With their own vifion oft astonish'd droop,

When, o'er the watry frath; or quaggy mofs They fee the gliding ghofts unbodied troop.

Or, if in fports, or in the feftive green, Their deftin'd glance fome fated youth descry, Who now, perhaps, indufty vigour seen, And rofy health, thall foon lamented die.

For them the viewless forms of air obey ; Their bidding heed, and at their beck repair.

They know what spirit brews the stormful day, And heartless, oft, like moody madness, stare To fee the phantom train their fecret work prepare.

V.

To monarchs dear †, fome hundred miles aftray,
Oft have they feen Fate give the fatal blow!
The Seer, in Sky, fhriek'd as the blood did flow,
When headlefs Charles warm on the fcaffold lay!

* A fummer hut, built in the high part of the mountains, to tend their flocks in the warm feafon, when the pafture is fine.

By the public prints we are informed, that a Scotch clergyman lately discovered Collin's rude draught of this poem. It is however faid to be very imperfect. The Vth Ranza, and the half of the VIth, fay thofe prints, being deficient, has been fupplied by Mr. Mackenzie; whofe lines are here annexed, for the purpofe of comparison, and to do juftice to the elegant author of the Man of Feeling. "Or on fome bellying rock that fhades the deep, "They view the lurid figns that crofs the fky, "Where in the weit, the brooding tempefts

lie;

"And here their first, faint, rustling pennons fweep.

"Or in the arched cave, where deep and dark "The broad, unbroken billows heave and

fwell,

"In horrid mufings rapt, they fit to mark "The lab'ring mcon; cr lift the nightly

yell

As Boreas threw his young Aurora * forth,
In the first year of the first George's reign,
And battles rag'd in welkin of the North,

They mourn'd in air, fell, fell Rebellion flain!
And as, of late, they joyn'd in Preston's fight,
Saw at fad Falkirk, all their hopes near crown'd!
They rav'd! divining, thro' their Second Sight †,
Pale, red Culloden, where these hopes were
drown'd!

Illustrious William ‡! Britain's guardian name!
One William fav'd us from a tyrant's stroke;
He, for a fceptre, gain'd heroic fame,

What though far off, from fome dark dell espied,
His glimmering mazes chear th' excurfive fight,
Yet turn, ye wanderers, turn your steps aside,
Nor truft the guidance of that faithless light;
For watchful, lurking, 'mid th' unruftling reed,
At thofe mirk hours the wily monster lies,
And liftens oft to hear the paffing fteed,
And frequent round him rolls his fullen eyes,
If chance his favage wrath may some weak wretch
furprize.

VII.

broke,

To reign a private man, and bow to Freedom's yoke!

VI.

Thefe too, thou'lt fing! for well thy magic Muse
Can to the topmoft heaven of grandeur foar;
Or ftoop to wail the swain that is no more!
Ah, homely fwains! your homeward steps ne'er
lofe;

Let not dank Will § mislead you to the heath:
Dancing in murky night, o'er fen and lake,

He glows, to draw you downward to your death, In his bewitch'd, low, marshy, willow brake!

"Of that dread fpirit, whofe gigantic form

"The feer's entranced eye can well furvey,
"Through the dim air who guides the driving
ftorm,

And points the wretched bark its deftin'd
prey.

"Or him who hovers on his flagging wing, "O'er the dire whirlpool, that, in ocean's waste,

* Draws inftant down whate'er devoted thing "The falling breeze within its reach hath plac'd

"The diftant feaman hears, and flies with trembling hafte.

"Or, if on land the fiend exerts his sway, "Silent he broods o'er quickfand, bog or fen, "Far from the sheltering roof and haunts

men,

of

"When witched darkness shuts the eye of day, "And shrouds each ftar that wont to cheer the night;

"Or, if the drifted fnow perplex the way, "With treacherous gleam he lures the fated wight,

"And leads him floundering on and quite aftray."

* By young Aurora, Collins undoubtedly meant the first appearance of the northern lights, which happened about the year 1715; at leaft, it is most highly probable from this peculiar circumftance, that no ancient writer whatever has taken any notice of them, nor even any one modern, previous to the above period.

Second fight is the term that is ufed for the divination of the Highlanders.

The late Duke of Cumberland, who defeated the Pretender at the battle of Culloden.

A fiery meteor, called by various names, fuch as Will with the Wifp, Jack with the Lanthorn, &c. It hovers in the air over marthy and fenny places. VOL. VII.

Whom late bewilder'd in the dank, dark fen,
Far from his flocks, and fmoaking hamlet, then!
To that fad fpot where hums the fedgy weed :
On him, enrag'd, the fiend, in angry mood,
Shall never look with pity's kind concern,

But inftant, furious, raife the whelming flood
O'er its drown'd banks, forbidding all return!
Or, if he meditate his wifh'd escape,
To fome dim hill that seems uprising near,

To his faint eye, the grim and grisly shape,
In all its terrors clad, fhall wild appear.

Meantime the watery furge fhall round him rife, Pour'd fudden förth from every swelling fource !

What now remains but tears and hopeless fighs? His fear-fhook limbs have loft their youthly force, And down the waves he floats, a pale and breathless corfe!

VIII.

For him in vain his anxious wife fhall wait,
Or wander forth to meet him on his way;
For him in vain at to-fall of the day,

His babes fhall linger at th' unclofing gate!
Ah; ne'er fhall he return! Alone, if night,

Her travel'd limbs in broken flumbers steep! With drooping willows dreft, his mournful fprite Shall vifit fad, perchance, her filent sleep! Then he, perhaps, with moift and watery hand, Shall fondly feem to prefs her fhuddering cheek, And with his blue-fwoln face before her ftand, And fhivering cold, thefe piteous accents speak: "Purfue, dear wife, thy daily toils, purfue,

"At dawn or dufk, industrious as before; "Nor e'er of me one helpless thought renew, "While I lie weltering on the ozier'd shore, "Drown'd by the Kelpie's * wrath, nor e'er shall aid thee more!"*

IX.

Unbounded is thy range; with varied skill

Thy Mufe may, like those feathery tribes which fpring

From their rude rocks, extend her skirting wing Round the moist marge of each cold Hebrid ifle, To that hoar pile † which still its ruin shows; In whofe fmall vaults a pigmy-folk is found,

Whose bones the delver with his fpade upthrows, And culls them, wond'ring, from the hallow'd ground!

*The water fiend.

+ One of the Hebrides is called The Ifle of Pigmies; where it is reported, that feveral miniature bones of the human species have been dug up in the ruins of a chapel there.

M