Let others court thy tranfient smile, But come to grace thy western isle, By warlike Honour led!

And, while around her ports rejoice, While all her fons adore thy choice,

With him for ever wed!

THE MANNERS. AN ODE.

Arewell, for clearer ken defign'd;

FA

The dim difcover'd tracts of mind:
Truths which, from action's paths retir'd,
My filent fearch in vain requir'd,

No more my fail that deep explores,
No more I fearch those magic fhores,

What regions part the world of soul,
Or whence thy ftreams, Opinion, roll:
If e'er I round fuch Fairy field,

Some power impart the fpear and shield,
At which the wizzard Paffions fly,
By which the giant Follies die!

Farewell the porch, whofe roof is seen,
Arch'd with th' enlivening olive's green :
Where Science, prank'd in tissued veft,
By Reason, Pride, and Fancy drest,
Comes like a bride, so trim array'd,
To wed with Doubt in Plato's fhade!

Youth

Youth of the quick uncheated fight,
Thy walks, Obfervance, more invite !
O thou, who lov'ft that ampler range,
Where life's wide profpects round thee change,
And, with her mingled fons allied,
Throw'ft the prattling page afide;

To me in converse sweet impart,
To read in man the native heart,

To learn, where Science fure is found,

From Nature as fhe lives around:

And gazing oft her mirror true,

By turns each fhifting image view!
Till meddling Art's officious lore,

Reverse the leffons taught before,
Alluring from a fafer rule,

To dream in her enchanted school;

Thou, heaven, whate'er of great we boast,
Haft bleft this focial fcience moft.

Retiring hence to thoughtful cell, As Fancy breathes her potent spell,

Not

1

Not vain fhe finds the charmful task,

In pageant quaint, in motley mask,
Behold, before her mufing eyes,

The countless Manners round her rise;

While ever varying as they pafs,

To fome Contempt applies her glafs :
With these the white-rob'd Maids combine,
And thofe the laughing Satyrs join!

But who is he whom now fhe views,
In robe of wild contending hues?
Thou by the paffions nurs'd; I greet
The comick fock that binds thy feet!
O Humour, thou whofe name is known,
To Britain's favour'd ifle alone:

Me too amidst thy band admit,

There where the young-eyed healthful Wit,
(Whofe jewels in his crifped hair
Are plac'd each other's beams to share,
Whom no delights from thee divide)

In laughter loos'd attends thy fide!

By

By old Miletus* who so long
Has ceas'd his love-inwoven fong:

By all you taught the Tufcan maids,
In chang'd Italia's modern fhades:

By him †, whofe Knight's diftinguish'd name,
Refin'd a nation's luft of fame;

Whofe tales even now, with echoes sweet,
Caftilia's Moorish hills repeat:

Or him ‡, whom Seine's blue nymphs deplore,

In watchet weeds on Gallia's shore,

Who drew the fad Sicilian maid,

By virtues in her fire betray'd:

O Nature boon, from whom proceed Each forceful thought, each prompted deed; If but from thee I hope to feel,

On all my heart imprint thy feal!

*Alluding to the Milefian Tales, fome of the earliest

romances.

+ Cervantes.

Monfieur Le Sage, author of the incomparable adventures of Gil Blas de Santillane, who died in Paris in the year 1745.

Let