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 And Sport leapt up, and feiz'd his beechen fpear. When wintery winds deform the plenteous year; 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, While, as his flying fingers kifs'd the strings, As if he would the charming air repay, You learn'd an all-commanding power, 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. 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, But heaven, ftill various in its works, decreed 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. Addreffed to Sir Thomas Hanmer, on his Edition With pleas'd attention 'midit his fcenes, we find of Shakespeare's Works. Each glowing thought, that warms the female mind; Each melting figh, and every tender tear, 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: Wheree'er we turn, by fancy charm'd, we find 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! * 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. 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. 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 III. Then maids and youths fhall linger here, To hear the woodland pilgrim's knell. Remembrance oft fhall haunt the shore To bid his gentle spirit reft! V. And oft as Eafe and Health retire To breezy lawn, or foreft deep, But thou, who own'st that earthly bed, Yet lives there one, whofe heedless eye But thou, lorn ftream, whofe fullen tide And fee, the fairy vallies fade, Dun night has veil'd the folemn view! *The harp of Æolus, of which see a defcription in the Caftle of Indolence. Mr. Thomson was buried in Richmond church. cake, With virtue's awe forbear the facred prize, The Cyprian queen, at Hymen's fond request, With rofy hand the spicy fruit fhe brought, Sleep, wayward God! hath fworn, while thefe remain, With flattering dreams to dry his nightly tear, If, bound by vows to friendship's gentle fide, 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, * Shall melt, perhaps, to hear thy tragic song Together let us wish him lasting truth, And joy untainted with his deftin'd bride. Thou need' but take thy pencil to thy hand, And paint what all believe, who own thy genial land. II. There, muft thou wake perforce thy Doric quill; While airy minstrels warble jocund notes. When the fick ewe her fummer food foregoes, 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, How they, whofe fight fuch dreary dreams 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, * 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, They mourn'd in air, fell, fell Rebellion flain! Illustrious William ‡! Britain's guardian name! What though far off, from fome dark dell espied, VII. But thou, more glorious, flavery's chain haft Ah, lucklefs fwain, o'er all unbleft; indeed ! broke, To reign a private man, and bow to Freedom's yoke! VI. Thefe too, thou'lt fing! for well thy magic Muse Let not dank Will § mislead you to the heath: 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, And points the wretched bark its deftin'd "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, But inftant, furious, raife the whelming flood To his faint eye, the grim and grisly shape, 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, His babes fhall linger at th' unclofing gate! 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 |