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Satyrs and Lylvan boys were seen,

Fair Fancy wept ; and echoing fighs confefs'd Peeping from forth their alleys green ;

A fixt despair ļn every tuneful breast. Brown Exercise rejoic'd to hear,

Not with more grief th' amięted (wains appear, And Sport leapt up, and seiz'd his beechen spear. When wintery winds defonin the plenteous year ; Laft came Joy's ecstatic trial,

When lingering frosts the ruin'd seats invade He, with viny crown advancing,

Where Peace resorted, and the Graces play'd. First to the lively pipe his hand addrest,

Each riting art by juft gradation moves, But foon he saw the brilk awakening viol,

Toil builds on toil, and age on age improves : Whose sweet entrancing voice he lov'd the best. The Muse alone unequal dealt her rage, They would have thought, who heard tlaç And grac'd with noblest pomp her ezrliętt stage. Atrain,

Preserv’d through time, the speaking fçenes impart They faw in Tempe's vale her native maids, Each changeful with of Phædra's tortur'd healt: Amidst the festal sounding thades,

Or paint the curse that ,mark'd thę * Theban's To fome unwearied min trel dancing,

While, as his flying fingers kiss’d the strings, A bed incetluous, and a father sain.
Love tram'd with Mirth a gay fantastic round, With kind concern our pitying eyes o'erflow,
Loufe were her treffes seen, her zone unbound, Trace the fad tale, and own another's woe.
And he, amidst his frolic play,

To Rome'remov'd, with wit fecure to please, As if he would the charming air repay,.

The comic lifters keep their native ease. Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings, With jealous fear declining Greece beheld O Music, sphere-defçended maid,

Her own Menander's art almoft excell'd ! Friend of pleasure, wisdom's aid,

But every Muse Eilay'd to raise in vain Why, Goddess, why to us denied ?

Some laþovi'd rival of her tragic strain i Lay't thou thy ancient lyre alide?

Ilyfsus' laurels, though transferr'd with toil, As in that lovid Athenian bower,

Diop'd their fair leavęs, ryor knew th’ unfriendly You learn’d an all-commanding power,

foil. Thy mimic soul, Onymplı endear’d,

As arts expir'd, rejstless Dulness rofe ; Can well recal what then it heard.

Goths, Priests, or Vandals,-all were learning's Where is thy native Gimple heart,

fees. Devote to virtue, fancy,'art?

Till † Julius first recall'd each exil'd maid, Arise, as in that elder time,

And Coliny own'd them in th' Etrurian flade: Warın, energetic, charte, sublime !

Then, deeply fkill'd in love's engaging theme, Thy wonders, in that god-like age,

The soft Provencial pass'd to Amo's ftream : Fill thy recording sister's page

With graceful ease the wanton lyre he strung, "Tis said, and I believe the tale,

Sweet flow'd the laysambut love was all he syng. Thy humblest reed could more prevail,

The gay description could not fail to move; Had more of Arength, diviner rage,

For, led by nature, all are friends to love. Than all which charms this laggard age,

But heaven, ftill various in its works, decreed Ev'n all at once together found

The perfect boast of time should last sueceed. Cecilia's mingled world of found

The beauteous union must appear at len; th, O, bid our vain endeavours cease,

Of Tuscan fancy, and Athenian strength : Receive the juft defigns of Greece,

One greater Mule Eliza's reign adorn, Return in all thy fimple state !

And ev’n a Shakespear to her fame be born!
Confirm the tales her sons relate!

Yet, ah! so bright her norning's opening ray,
In vain our Britain hop'd an equal day!
No fecond growth the western isle could bear,
At once exhausted with too rich a year.
Too nicel; Jonson knew the critic's part ;

Nature in hiin was almost

gentle Fletcher came,

The next in order, as the next in name. Addressed to Sir Thomas Hanmer, on his Edition With pleas’d attention 'midst his scenes, we find of Shakespeare's Works.

Each glowing thought, that warms the female HILE, bora to bring the Muse's happier Each melting lagii, and every terder tear,

mind; days, A patriot's hand protects a poet's lays i

The lover's withes, and the virgin's fear. While, nursid by you, the sees her myrtles bloom, His I every Atrain the Smiles and Graces own ; Green and unwither'd o'er his honour'd tomb :

But Itronger Shakespeare felt for man alone : Excuse her doubts, if yet the fears to tell

Drawn by his pen, our ruder passions stand
Winat secret transports in her bosom fwell :

Th' unrival'd picture of his early hand.
With conscious awe she hears the critic's fame,
And blushing hides her wreath at Shakespeare's | * The Oedipus of Sophocles.

† Julius H. the immediate predecessor of I, en X, Hard was the lot these injui'd strains endur'd, I Their characters are thus diftinguished by Mr. Lnown'd by science, and by years obscurid : Dryden.

of lofter mould the



* With gradual steps, and flow, exacter France But * who is he, whose brows exalted bear Saw Art's fair empire o'er her Mhores advance : A wrath impatient, and a fiercer air ? By length of toil a bright perfection knew,

Awake to all that injur'd worth can feel,
Correctly told, and just in all the drew.

On his own Rome he turns th' avenging íteel.
Till late Corneille, with † Lucan's spirit fir’d Yet Mall not war's insatiate fury fall,
Breath'd the free strain, as Rome and he inspir'd : (So heaven ordains it) on the destin'd wall.
And classic judgment gain'd to fweet Racine See the fond mother, ’midst the plaintive train,
The temperate strength of Maro's chaster line.

Hung on his knees, and proftrate on the plain!
But wilder far the British laurel spread,

Touch'd to the soul, in vain he strives to hide And wreaths less artful crown our poet's head. The son's affection, in the Roman's pride : Yet he alone to every scene could give

O’er all the man conflicting passions rise, Th' historian's truth, and bid the manners live. Rage grasps the sword, while pity melts the eyes. Wak'd at his call I view, with glad surprize,

Thus, generous Critic, as thy bard inspires, Majestic forms of mighty monarchs rife.

The Sister Arts Thall nurse their drooping fires : There Henry's trumpets spread their loud alarms, Each from his scenes her stores alternate bring, And laurel’d Conquest waits her hero's arms. Blend the fair tints, or wake the vocal string : Her gentler Edward claims a pitying figh,

Those Sibyl-leaves, the sport of every wind, Scarce born to honoui's, and so foon to die !

(For poets ever were a careless kind) Yet shali thy 'throne, unhappy infant, bring By thee dispos’d, no farther toil demand, No beam of comfort to the guilty king:

But, just to nature, own thy forming hand. The time shall come when Glo'ster's heart shall

So spread o'er Greece, th' harmonious whole unbleed

known, In life's lait hours, with horror of the deed :

Ev’n Homer's numbers charm’d by parts alone. When dreary visions Thall at last present

Their own Ulysses scarce had wander'd more, The vengeful image in the midnight tent:

By winds and waters cast on every more : Thy hand unseen the secret death Thall bear,

When rais'd by fate, some former Hanmer join'd, Elunt the weak sword, and break th' oppressive Each beauteous image of the boundless mind; spear.

And bade, like thee, his Athens ever claim
Wheree'er we turn, by fancy charm’d, we find A fond alliance with the Poet's name.
Some sweet illusions of the cheated mind.
Oft, wild of wing, she calls the soul to rove
With humblor nature, in the rural grove ;
Where fwains contented own the quiet scene,
And twilight fairies tread the circled green :
Drefs'd by her hand, the woods and vallies smile,

And Spring diffufive decks th’inchanted inle.
0, more than all in powerful genius bleft,

Sung by Guiderius and Arviragus over Fidele, Come, take thine empire o'er the willing breaft!

Tupposed to be dead.
Whate'er the wounds this youthful heart Mall feel,
Thy songs fupport me, and thy morals heal!

"O fair Fidele's grassy tomb There every thought the poet's warmth may raise,

Soft maids and village hinds shall bring Their native music dwells in all the lays.

Each opening 'weet, of earliest bloom, O, might some verse with happiest fkill persuade

And rifle all the breathing Spring. Expressive Picture to adopt thine aid ! what wondrous draughts might rise from every

No wailing ghost shall dare appear

To vex with shrieks this quiet grove, What other Raphael charm a distant age !

But shepherd lads assemble here,
Methinks ev'n now I view foine free design,

And melting virgins own their love.
Where breathing Nature lives in every line:
Chaste and subdued the modest lights decay,

No wither'd witch shall here be seen,
Steal into shades, and mildly melt away.

No goblins lead their nightly crew ; And see, where I Anthony, in tears approv'd,

The female fays shall haunt the green,
Guards the pale relics of the chief he lov'd :

And dress thy grave with pearly dew;
O'er the cold corse the warrior seems to bend,
Deep sunk in grief, and mourns his murder'd friend!

The red-breast oft at evening hours
Still as they press, he calls on all around,

Shall kindly lend his little aid, Lifts the torn robe, and points the bleeding wound.

With hoary mofs, and gather'd flowers,

To deck the ground where thou art laid. * About the time of Shakespeare, the poet Hardy When howling winds, and beating rain, was in great repute in France. He wrote, according to Fontenelle, fix hundred plays. The French

In tempefts shake thy sylvan cell ;

Or 'midst the chiace on every plain, poets after him applied themselves in general to the

The tender thought on thee Thall dwell. correct improvement of the stage, which was almost totally disregarded by those of our own country, * Coriolanus. Sce Mr. Spence's dialogue on the Jonson excepted.

Odyfley. + The favourite author of the elder Corneille.

I soe the tragedy of Julius Cæsar.

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Each lonely scene Mall thee restore,

For thee the tear be duly Thed; Belov'd, till life can charm no more ;

And mourn'd, till Pity's self be dead.

The genial meads * align'd to bless

Thy life, shall mourn thy early doom! Their hinds and thepherd girls Mall dress With simple hands thy rural tomb.

XI. Long, lonz, thy stone, and pointed clay

Shall melt the musing Briton's eyes, 0! vales, and wild woods, shall he say,

In yonder grave your Druid lies !

O DE ON THE DEATH OF MR. THOMSON. The Scene of the following Stanzas is supposed to

lie on the Thames, near Richmond.

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The year's best sweets shall duteous rise,
To deck its Poet's sylvan grave!

In yon deep bed of whispering reeds

His airy harp * shall now be laid,
That lie, whose heart in sorrow bleeds,
May love through life the foothing shade.

III. Then maids and youths shall linger here,

And, while its sounds at distance swell, Shall sadly seem in Pity's ear

To hear the woodland pilgrim's knell..


Remembrance oft shall haunt the shore

When Thames in summer wreaths is drest,
And oft suspend the dashing oar
To bid his gentle spirit rest!

And oft as Ease and Health retire

To breezy lawn, or forest deep,
The friend shall view yon whitening + spire,
And ’mid the varied landscape weep.

But thou, who own'st that earthly bed,

Ah! what will every dirge avail ?
Or tears, which Love and Pity Med
That mourn beneath the gliding fail !

Yet lives there one, whose heedless eye

Shall (corn thy pale shrine glimmering near ?
With him, sweet bard, may Fancy die,
And joy desert the blooming year.

But thou, lorn stream, whose fullen tide

No fedge-crown'd sisters now attend,
Now waft me from the green hill's fide
Whose cold turf hides the buried friend!

IX. And see, the fairy vallies fade,

Dun night has veil'd the folemn view! Yet once again, dear parted shade,

Meek nature's child, again adieu !

Written on a Paper, which contain'd a Piece of

E curious hands, that, hid from vulgar eyes,
By search profane shall find this hallow'd

With virtue's awe forbear the sacred prize,

Nor dare a theft for love and pity's sake! This precious relick, form'd by magic power,

Beneath the shepherd's haunted pillow laid,
Was meant by love to charm the filent hour,

The secret present 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 she brought,

From Paphian hills, and fair Cytherea's ise ; And temper'd sweet with these the melting thought,

The kiss ambrosial, and the yielding smile. Ambiguous looks, that scorn and yet relent,

Denials mild, and firm unalter'd trut!, Reluctant pride, and amorous faint consent,

And meeting ardours, and exulting youth. Sleep, wayward God! hath sworn, while these re.

main, With Aattering dreams to dry his nightly tear, And chearful hope, so oft invok'd in vain,

With fairy songs mall footh his pensive ear. If, bound by vows to friendihip's gentle side,

And fond of soul, 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 (hunn'd my plaintive

day, Consents at length to bring me sort delight, Thy careless steps may scare her doves away,

And Grief with raven note usurp the night.

* Mr. Thomson resided in the neighbourhood of Richmond some time before his death,

The harp of Æolus, of which see a description in the Castle of Indolence.

† Mr. Thomson was buried in Richmond church.




HOME, Naiads long


side ;


At every pause, before thy mind poffeft,

Old Runic bards shall seem to rise around,

With uncouth lyres, in many-colour'd veft,

Their matted liair with boughs fantastic crown'd: POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS

Whether thou bid'it the well-taught hind repeat

The choral dirge, that mourns some chieftain тн Е


When every srieking maid her bosom beat,

And strew'd with choicest herbs his scented

SUBJECT OF POETRY. Or whether, fitting in the Nepherd's Niiel *,

Thou hear it fome founding tale of war's alarms;

When at the bugle's call, with fire and steel,

The sturdy clans pour'd forth their brawny
OME, thou return'st from Thames, whose swarms,
Naiads long

And hostile brothers met, to prove each other's Have seen thee lingering with a fond delay,

arms. Mid thofe foft friends, whose hearts fome future

ÎV. day,

'Tis thine to sing, how, framing hideous fpells, Shall melt, perhaps, to hear thy tragic song *

In Sky's lone ise, the gifted wizzard-feer, Go, not unmindful of that cordial youth †

Lodg'd in the wintery cave with Fate's fell fpear, Whom, long endear'd, thou leav'st by Lavant's

Or in the depth of Vilt's dark forest dwells:

How they, whose fight such dreary dreams Together let us with him lasting truth,

engross, And joy untainted with his destin'd bride.

With their own vifion oft añonilh'd droop, Go! nor regar:"less, while thefe numbers boaft

When, o'er the watry Nrath; or quaggy moss My short-liv'd bliss, forget my social naine ;

They see the gliding ghosts unbodied troop. But think, far off, how, on the southern coast,

Or, if in sports, or in the festive green, I met thy friendship with an equal flame!

Their destin'd glance some fated youth defcry; Fresh to that foil thou turn'st, where every vale

Who now, perhaps, indufty viguur seen, Shall prompt the poet, and his song demand :

And rofy health, shall soon lamented die. 'To thee thy copious subjects ne'er Mall fail ;

For them the viewless forms of air obey ;
Thou need it but take thy pencil to thy hand,
And paint what all believe, who own thy genial Their bidding heed, and at their beck repair


They know what fpirit brews the stormful day, land.

And heartless, oft, like moody madness, ftare

To see the phantom train their secret work There, muft thou wake perforce thy Doric quill ;

prepare. 'Tis Fancy's land to which thou fett'st tlıy feet ;

V. Where still, 'tis said, the fairy people meet,

To monarchs dear t, some hundred miles astray, Beneath each birken shade, on mead or hill.

Oft have they seen Fate give the fatal blow !
There, each trim lass, that fkims the milky store
To the swart tribes, their creamy bowls allots ;

The Seer, in Sky, shrick'd as the blood did flow,

When headless Charles warm on the scaffold lay! By night they fip it round the cottage-door, While airy minstrels warble jocund notes.

* A summer hut, built in the high part of the There, every herd, by fad experience, knows

mountains, to tend their flocks in the warın feafon, How, wing'd with Fate, their elf-thot arrows

when the pasture is fine.

+ By the public prints we are informed, that a When the sick ewe her summer food foregoes,

Scotch clergyman lately discovered Collin's rude Or, stretch'd on earth, the heart-Imit heifers lie. draught of this poem. It is however said to be very Such airy beings awé th' umtu tor'd (wain :

imperfect. The Vth flanza, and the half of the Nor thou, tho' Itarn’d, his homelier thoughts VIth, say those prints, being deficient, has been neglect ;

supplied by Mr. Mackenzie ; whose lines are here Let thy fweet Muse the rural faith sustain ;

annexed, for the purpose of comparison, and to do These are the themes' of simple, sure effect,

| justice to the elegant author of the Man of Feeling. Tliat add new conquest to her boundless reign,

" Or on some bellying rock that shades the deep, And fill, with double force, her heart-command

“ They view the lurid tigns that cross the sky,

“ Where in the weit, the brooding tempeits III.

lie; Ly'n yer preserv'd, how often may'st thou hear, “ And here their first, faint, rustling pennons Where to the pole the Boreal mountains run,

sweep. Taught by the father, to his listening fon ;

" Or in the arched cave, where deep and dark Strange lays, whore power had charm'd a Spenser's “ The broad, unbroken billows heave and

swell, * How truly did Collins predict Home's tragic

“ In horrid mufings rapt; they fit to mark

“ The la''ring mcon ; cf lift the nightly powers ! + A Gentleman of the name of Barrow, who

yell introduced Home to Collins,


ing itrain.


As Boreas threw his young Aurora * forth,

What though far off, from fome dark dell espied, In the first year of the first George's reign,

His glimmering mazes chear th' excursive light; And battles rag'd in welkin of the North,

Yet turn, ye wanderers, turn your steps aside, They mourn'd in air, fell, fell Rebellion Nain ! Nor trust the guidance of that faithless light ; And as, of late, they joyn'd in Preston's fight, For watchful, lurking, 'mid th' unrustling reed,

Saw at sad Falkirk; all their hopes near crown'd! At those mirk hours the wily monster lies, They rav'd! divining, thro' their Second Sight to And listens oft to hear the passing steed, Pale, red Culloden, where these hopes were And frequent round him rolls his fullen eyes, drown'd!

If chance his savage wrath may some weak wretch Illuftrious William I! Britain's guardian name!

furprize. One William fav'd us from a tyrant's stroke ;

He, for a sceptre, gain'd heroic fame,
But thou, more glorious, Navery's chain hart) Ah, luckless fwain, o'er all unbleft; indeed !

Whom late bewilder'd in the dank, dark fen, broke, To reign a private man, and bow to Freedom's To that fad spot where hums the fedgy weed :

Far from his focks, and smoaking hamlet, then! yoke !

On him; enrag'd, the fiend, in angry mood, VI.

Shall never look with pity's kind concern,
These too; thou'lt fing! for well thy magic Muse But instant, furious, raise the whelming flood

Can to the topmost heaven of grandeur foar ; O'er its drown'd banks, forbidding all return!
Or stoop to wail the swain that is no more !

Or, if he meditate his wish'd escape, Ah, homely swains! your homeward steps ne'er To some dim hill that seems uprising near, lose;

To his faint eye, the grim and grisly shape; Let not dank Will S mislead you to the heath : In all its terrors clad, mall wild appear. Dancing in murky night; o'er fen and lake,

Meantime the watery surge shall round him rise, He glows, to draw you downward to your death, Pour'd sudden forth from every swelling source ! In his bewitch'd, low, marlhy; willow brake ! What now remains but tears and hopeless sighs ?

His fear-shook limbs have lost their youthly force, “ Of that dread spirit, whose gigantic form “ The seer's entranced eye can well survey;

And down the waves he floats, a pale and breathless

corse! į "Through the dim air who guides the driving

And points the wretched bark its destin'd For him in vain his anxious wife shall wait;

Or wander forth to meet him on his way ;
« Or him who hovers on his fiagging wing,

For him in vain at tò-fall of the day, “ O'er the dire whirlpool, that, in ocean’s Ah; ne'er shall he return! Alone, if night;

His babes Thall linger at th' unclosing gate ! waste, Draws instant down whate'er devoted thing

Her travel'd limbs in broken Numbers steep! “ The falling breeze within its reach hath

With drooping willows dreft, his mournful sprite plac'd

Shall visit sad, perchance; her silent Neep “ The diftant seaman hears, and Aies with Then he, perhaps, with moist and watery hand, trembling haste.

Shall fondly seem to press her shuddering cheek, ri Or, if on land the fiend exerts his sway,

And with his blue-swoln face before her stand, “ Silent he broods o'er quicksand, bog or fen,

And shivering cold, these piteous accents speak “ Far from the sheltering root and haunts of

“ Pursue, dear wife, thy daily toils; pursue,

" At dawn or dulk, industrious as before; men, When witched darkness Muts the eye of day,

“ Nor e'er of me one helpless thought renew, “ And Ihrouds each star that wont to cheer the

" While I lie weltering on the ozier'd thore, night ;

“ Drown'd by the Kelpie's * wrath, nor e'er shall " Or, if the drifted snow perplex the way,

aid thee more! With treacherous gleam he lures the fated

IX. wight,

Unbounded is thiy range ; with varied skill << And leads him Agundering on and quite astray.". Thy Mufe may, like those feathery tribes which

spring By young Aurora, Colliris undoubtedly meant

From their rude rocks, extend her skirting wing the first appearance of the northern lights, which Round the moist marge of each cold Hebrid ifle, happened about the year 1715; at least, it is most To thai hoar pile † which still its ruin Mows ; highly probable from this peculiar circumstance, In whose Imall vaults a pigmy-folk is found, that no ancient writer whatever has taken any no- Whofe bones the delver with his spade upthrows, tice of them, nor even any one modern, previous And culls them, wond'ring, from the hallow'd to the above period.

ground! † Second light is the term that is used for the divination of the Highlanders.

* The water fiend. 1 The late Duke of Cumberland, who defeated the Pretender at the battle of Culloden.

+ One of the Hebrides is called The Ine of PigA fiery meteor, called by various names, such mies; where it is reported that several miniature 2. Will with the Wisp, Jack with the Lanthorn,

bcries of the human species have been dug up in the &c. It hovers in the air over marthy and fenny

ruins of a chapel there. places.


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