While my presaging mind,

Conscious of powers the never knew, Aftonish'd grasps at things beyond her view, Nor by another's fate submits to be confin'd.

O DE XIV.

To the HONOURABLE CHARLES TOWNSHEND:

FROM THE COUNTRY.

SAY, Townfhend, what can London boaft
Το pay thee for the pleasures loft,

The health to-day refign'd,

When Spring from this her favorite feat

Bade Winter haften his retreat,

And met the western wind.

II.

Oh knew'st thou how the balmy air,
The fun, the azure heavens prepare
To heal thy languid frame,

No more would noisy courts ingage;
In vain would lying Faction's rage
Thy facred leifure claim.

Oft I look'd forth, and oft admir'd;
Till with the ftudious volume tir'd
I fought the open day;

And fure, I cry'd, the rural gods
Expect me in their green abodes,
And chide my tardy lay.

IV.

But ah in vain my restless feet

Trac'd every filent shady 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 nurfe 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 guest,
Since grief of love my foul opprefs'd,
They hide their toils divine.

VII.

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

With noble hope inspire:

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

O DE XV.

TO THE EVENING-STAR.

I.

10-NIGHT retir'd the queen of heaven

To

With young Endymion ftrays:

And now to Hesper is it given

Awhile to rule the vacant sky,
Till she shall to her lamp supply
A ftream of lighter rays.

II.

O Hefper, while the ftarry throng
With awe thy path surrounds,
Oh listen to my suppliant fong,
If haply now the vocal sphere
Can fuffer thy delighted ear

To stoop to mortal founds.

III.

So may the bridegroom's genial strain
Thee ftill invoke to shine:

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 falfe flame feduce to ftray
Where gulph or steep lie hid for harm:
But lead where music's healing charm
May footh afflicted love.

VI..

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

These 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 Mufe
The radiant moon above us held:
Till by a clamorous owl compell'd

She fled the folemn fhade.

VIII. But

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,
Whofe 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 midft she takes her ftand,
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 fweetly 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