IV.

But ah in vain my restless feet

Trac'd every filent fhady feat

Which knew their forms of old:

Nor Naiad by her fountain laid,

Nor Wood-nymph tripping through her glade,
Did now their rites unfold:

V.

Whether to nurse fome infant oak
They turn the flowly-tinkling brook
And catch the pearly showers,
Or brush the mildew from the woods,
Or paint with noon-tide beams the buds,
Or breathe on opening flowers.

VI.

Such rites, which they with Spring renew,
The eyes of care can never view;

And care hath long been mine :
And hence offended with their gueft,
Since grief of love my ́foul opprefs'd,
They hide their toils divine.

VII.

But foon fhall thy enlivening tongue
This heart, by dear affliction wrung,

With noble hope infpire:

Then will the fylvan powers again

Receive me in their genial train,
And listen to my lyre.

VIII. Be

VIII.

Beneath yon Dryad's lonely shade
A ruftic altar fhall be paid,

Of turf with laurel fram'd:

And thou the infcription wilt approve;
"This for the peace which, loft by love,
"By friendship was reclaim'd."

O DE

XV.

TO THE EVENING-STA R.

I.

TO-N

10-NIGHT retir'd the

With young Endymion trays:

And now to Hesper is it given

Awhile to rule the vacant sky,
Till fhe fhall to her lamp fupply
A ftream of lighter rays.
II.

O Hesper, while the starry throng
With awe thy path furrounds,
Oh liften to my fuppliant fong,
If haply now the vocal sphere
Can fuffer thy delighted ear

To stoop to mortal founds.

III.

So may the bridegroom's genial ftrain
Thee ftill invoke to fhine:

So may the bride's unmarried train

Το

To Hymen chaunt their flattering vow,
Still that his lucky torch may glow

With luftre pure as thine.

IV.

Far other vows must I prefer
To thy indulgent power.
Alas, but now I paid my tear
On fair Olympia's virgin tomb:
And lo, from thence, in queft I roam

Of Philomela's bower.

ས.

Propitious fend thy golden ray,
Thou pureft light above:

Let no false flame feduce to stray
Where gulph or fteep lie hid for harm :
But lead where mufic's healing charm
May footh afflicted love.

VI.

To them, by many a grateful fong
In happier feafons vow'd,

Thefe lawns, Olympia's haunt, belong

Oft by yon filver ftream we walk'd,
Or fix'd, while Philomela talk'd,
Beneath yon copfes stood.

VII.

Nor feldom, where the beachen boughs
That rooflefs tower invade,

We come while her inchanting Muse
The radiant moon above us held:
Till by a clamorous owl compell'd

She fled the folemn fhade.

VIII. But

VIII.

But hark; I hear her liquid tone.

Now, Hefper, guide my feet

Down the red marle with mofs o'ergrown, Through yon wild thicket next the plain, Whose hawthorns choke the winding lane Which leads to her retreat.

IX.

See the green space: on either hand
Inlarg'd it spreads around :

See, in the midst she takes her stand,
Where one old oak his awful shade
Extends o'er half the level mead

Inclos'd in woods profound.

X.

Hark, how through many a melting note
She now prolongs her lays :

How sweetly down the void they float!
The breeze their magic path attends:
The ftars fhine out: the foreft bends:
The wakeful heifers gaze.

XI.

Whoe'er thou art whom chance may bring

To this fequefter'd spot,

If then the plaintive Syren fing,

Oh foftly tread beneath her bower,

And think of heaven's difpofing power,

Of man's uncertain lot.

XII.

Oh think, o'er all this mortal stage,
What mournful fcenes arife:
What ruin waits on kingly rage:
How often virtue dwells with woe:

How many griefs from knowledge flow :
How swiftly pleasure flies.

WITH fordid floods the wintery * Urn

Hath ftain'd fair Richmond's level

Her naked hill the Dryads mourn,

No longer a poetic fcene.

No longer there thy raptur'd eye
The beauteous forms of earth or sky
Surveys as in their Author's mind:
And London fhelters from the year
Thofe whom thy focial hours to share
The Attic Mufe defign'd.

* Aquarius.

green:

II. From