The painter strove to trace its azure ray;
He chang'd his colours, and in vain he strove; He frown'd-I fmiling view'd the faint effay ;
Poor youth he little knew it flow'd from Jove.. Pitying his toil, the wondrous truth I told;
How amorous Jove trepann'd a mortal fair;
How through the race the generous current roll'd,
And mocks the poet's art, and painter's care.
Yes, from the gods, from earliest Saturn, fprung
Our facred race; through demigods, convey'd;
And he, ally'd to Phoebus, ever young,
My god-like boy, muft wed their duteous maid. Oft when a mortal vow profanes my ears,
My fire's dread fury murmurs through the sky;
And fhould I yield-his inftant rage appears,
He darts th' up-lifted vengeance--and I die.
Have you not heard unwonted thunders roll!
Have you not feen more horrid lightnings glare!
"Twas then a vulgar love enfnar'd my foul :
'Twas then-I hardly fcap'd the fatal fnare.
"Twas then a peasant pour'd his amorous vow,
All as I liften'd to his vulgar ftrain ;-
Yet fuch his beauty--would my birth allow,
Dear were the youth, and blissful were the plain.
But oh! I faint! why waftes my vernal bloom,
In fruitless fearches ever doom'd to rove?
My nightly dreams the toilfome path refume,
And I fhall die-before I find my love.
When laft I flept, methought my ravish'd eye,
On diftant heaths his radiant form furvey'd;
Though night's thick clouds encompafs'd all the fky,
The gems that bound his brow, difpell'd the fhade.
O how this bofom kindled at the fight!
Led by their beams I urg'd the pleasing chafe!
Till, on a sudden, thefe with-held their light-
All, all things envy the fublime embrace.
But now no more-behind the distant grove,
Wanders my deftin'd youth, and chides my stay
See, fee, he grafps the fteel-forbear, my love-
Ianthe comes; thy princess haftes away.”
Scornful the spoke, and heedlefs of reply
The lovely maniac bounded o'er the plain;
The piteous victim of an angry sky!
Ah me! the victim of her proud difdain!
ELE GY XVII.
He indulges the fuggeftions of spleen:
An elegy to the winds.
"Eole, namque tibi divûm pater atque hominum rex
"Et mulcere dedit mentes & tollere vento."
TERN monarch of the winds, admit my prayer!
A while thy fury check, thy ftorm confine!
No trivial blaft impells the paffive air;
But brews a tempeft in a breast like mine.
What bands of black ideas fpread their wings!
The peaceful regions of content invade !
With deadly poifon taint the crystal springs!
With noifome vapour blast the verdant shade!
I know their leader, fpleen; and dread the sway
Of rigid Eurus, his detefted fire;
Through one my bloffoms and my fruits decay;
Through one my pleasures and my hopes expire.
Like fome pale ftripling, when his icy way
Relenting yields beneath the noontide beam,
I ftand aghaft; and chill'd with fear furvey
How far I've tempted life's deceitful stream!
Where, by remorfe impell'd, repuls'd by fears,
Shall wretched fancy a retreat explore?
She flies the fad prefage of coming years,
And forrowing dwells on pleafures now no more!
Again with patrons and with friends fhe roves;
But friends and patrons never to return!
She fees the nymphs, the graces, and the loves,
But fees them, weeping o'er Lucinda's urn.
She vifits, Ifis! thy forfaken stream,
Oh ill forfaken for Boeotian air!
She deems no flood reflects fo bright a beam,
No reed fo verdant, and no flowers fo fair.
She dreams beneath thy facred shades were peace,
Thy bays might ev'n the civil ftorm repel;
Reviews thy focial blifs, thy learned ease,
And with no chearful accent cries, farewel!
Farewel, with whom to these retreats Iftray'd!
By youthful sports, by youthful toils ally'd!
Joyous we fojourn'd in thy circling shade,
And wept to find the paths of life divide.
She paints the progrefs of my rival's vow;
Sees every Mufe a partial ear incline;
Binds with luxuriant bays his favour'd brow,
Nor yields the refufe of his wreath to mine.
She bids the flattering mirror, form'd to please,
Now blast my hope, now vindicate despair;
Bids my fond verfe the love-fick parley cease;
Accufe my rigid fate, acquit my fair.
Where circling rocks defend some pathlefs vale,
Superfluous mortal, let me ever rove!
Alas! there echo will repeat the tale
Where fhall I find the filent fcenes I love?
Fain would I mourn my lucklefs fate alone;
Forbid to please, yet fated to admire;
Away my friends! my forrows are my own!
Why fhould I breathe around my fick desire?
Bear me, ye winds, indulgent to my pains,
Near fome fad ruin's ghaftly shade to dwell!
There let me fondly eye the rude remains,
And from the mouldering refuse, build my Genius of Rome! thy proftrate pomp display! Trace every difmal proof of fortune's power; Let me the wreck of theatres furvey,
Or penfive fit beneath fome nodding tower.
Or where fome duct, by rolling seasons worn,
Convey'd pure ftreams to Rome's imperial wall,
Near the wide breach in filence let me mourn;
Or tune my dirges to the water's fall.
Genius of Carthage! paint thy ruin'd pride;
Towers, arches, fanes, in wild confusion strewn ✯
Let banish'd Marius, lowering by thy fide,
Compare thy fickle fortunes with his own. Ah no! thou monarch of the ftorms! forbear! My trembling nerves abhor thy rude controul; And scarce a pleasing twilight foothes my care, Ere one vaft death like darkness shocks my foul. Forbear thy rage-on no perennial base
Is built frail fear, or hope's deceitful pile; My pains are fled-my joy refumes its place, Should the sky brighten, or Melissa smile.
He repeats the fong of Co LL1N, a difcerning fhepherd; lamenting the ftate of the woollen manufactory.
"Ergo omni ftudio glaciem ventofque nivales,
Quo minus eft illis curæ mortalis egestas, "Avertes victumque feres."
EAR Avon's bank, on Arden's flowery plain,
A* tuneful shepherd charm'd the listening wave;
And funny Cotfol' fondly lov'd the strain ;
Yet not a garland crowns the shepherd's grave!
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