Grew with the year, and widen'd with the bark, | And wept the potent god's resistless dart,
Venus had heard the virgin's soft address,
That as the wound, the passion might increase.
As potent nature shed her kindly show'rs,
And deck'd the various mead with op'ning
flowers;

Upon the tree the nymph's obliging care
Had left a frequent wreath for Henry's hair;
Which as with gay delight the lover found,
Pleas'd with his conquest, with her present
crown'd,

Glorious thro' all the plains he oft had gone,
And to each swain the mystic honor shown;
The gift still prais'd, the giver still unknown.-
His secret note the troubled Henry writes;
To the known tree the lovely maid invites :
Imperfect words and dubious terms express,
That unforeseen mischance disturb'd his peace;
That he must something to her car commend,
On which her conduct and his life depend.

Soon as the fair one had the note receiv'd,
The reinnant of the day alone she griev'd:
For diff'rent this from ev'ry former note,
Which Venus dictated, and Henry wrote;
Which told her all his future hopes were laid
On the dear bosom of his Nut-brown Maid;
Which always bless'd her eyes, and own'd her
pow'r;

And bid her oft adieu, yet added more. [laid;
Now night advanc'd. The house in sleep were
The nurse experienc'd, and the prying maid :
At last that sprite, which does incessant haunt
The lover's steps, the antient maiden aunt.
To her dear Henry Emma wings her way,
With quicken'd pace repairing forc'd delay;
For Love, fantastic power, that is afraid
To stir abroad till watchfulness be laid,
Undaunted then, o'er cliffs and valleys strays,
And leads his voties safe thro' pathless ways
Not Argus with his hundred eyes shall find
Where Cupid goes; tho' he, poor guide, is blind.
The maiden, first arriving, sent her eye
To ask, if yet its chief delight were nigh:
With fear, and with desire, with joy and pain,
She sees, and runs to meet him on the plain.
But oh his steps proclaim no lover's haste;
On the low ground his fix'd regards are cast;
His artful bosom heaves dissembled sighs;
And tears suborn'd fall copious from his eyes.
With ease, alas! we credit what we love :
His painted grief does real sorrow move
In the afflicted fair; adown her cheek
Trickling, the genuine tears their current break;
Attentive stood the mournful nymph: the man
Broke silence first: the tale alternate ran:
HENRY.

Sincere, O tell me, hast thou felt a pain,
Emma, beyond what woman knows to feign?
Has thy uncertain bosom ever strove
With the first tumults of a real love?
Hast thou now dreaded, and now blest his sway,
By turns averse and joyful to obey?
Thy virgin softness hast thou e'er bewail'd,
As reason yielded, and as love prevail'd ?

His killing pleasure, his ecstatic smart,
And heav'nly poison thrilling thro' thy heart:.
If so, with pity view my wretched state;
At least deplore, and then forget my fate:
To some more happy knight reserve thy charms,
By fortune favor'd, and successful arms:
And only, as the sun's revolving ray,
Brings back each year this melancholy day,
Permit one sigh, and set apart one tear,
To an abandon'd exile's endless care.
For me, alas! out-cast of human race,
Love's anger only waits, and dire disgrace;
For lo! these hands in murder are imbru'd
These trembling feet by justice are pursu'd:
Fate calls aloud, and hastens me away;
A shameful death attends my longer stay;
And I this night must fly from thee and love,
Condeinn'd in louely woods a banish'd man to

rove.

EMMA.

What is our bliss that changeth with the moon;
And day of life, that darkens ere 'tis noon?
What is true passion, if unblest it dies?
And where is Emma's joy, if Henry flies?
If love, alas! be pain; the pain I bear
No thought can figure, and no tongue declare,
Ne'er faithful woman felt, nor false one feign'd,
The flames which long have in my bosom reign'd:
The god of love himself inhabits there, [care,
With all his rage, and dread, and grief, and
His compliment of stores, and total war.

O! cease then coldly to suspect my love;
And let my deed, at least, my faith approve.
Alas! no youth shall my endearments share;
Nor day nor night shall interrupt my care;
No future story shall with truth upbraid
The cold indifference of the Nut-brown Maid.
Nor to hard banishment shall Henry run;
While careless Emma sleeps on beds of down.
View me resolv'd, where-e'er thou lead'st, to go,
Friend to thy pain, and partner of thy woe:
For I attest, fair Venus and her son,
That I, of all mankind, will love but thee alone.

HENRY.

Let prudence yet obstruct thy vent'rous way;
And take good heed, what men will think and say:
That beauteous Emma vagrant courses took;
Her father's house and civil life forsook ;
That, full of youthful blood, and fond of man,
She to the wood-land with an exile ran.
Reflect, that lessen'd fame is ne'er regain'd;
And virgin honor once, is always stain'd:
Timely advis'd, the coming evil shun:
Better not do the deed, than weep it done.
No penance can absolve our guilty fame;
Nor tears, that wash out sin, can wash out shame
Then fly the sad effects of desp'rate love; [rove.
And leave a banish'd man through lonely woods to

EMMA.

Let Emma's hapless case be falsely told
By the rash young, or the ill-natur❜d old :
Let ev'ry tongue its varions censures choose
Absolve with coldness, or with spite accuse:

Fair Truth at last her radiant beams will raise ; | Wilt thou not then reluctant send thine eye
And malice vanquish'd heightens virtue's praise.
Let then thy favor but indulge my flight;

let my presence make thy travels light;
And potent Venus shall exalt my name
Above the rumors of censorious Fame
Nor from that busy demon's restless pow'r
Will ever Emma other grace implore, [known,
Than that this truth should to the world be
That I, of all mankind, have lov'd but thee alone.

HENRY.

But canst thou wield the sword, and bend the
With active force repel the sturdy foe? [bow?
When the loud tumult speaks the battle nigh,
And winged death in whistling arrows fly;
Wilt thou, tho' wounded, yet undaunted stay,
Perform thy part, and share the dangerous day?
Then, as thy strength decays, thy heart will fail,
Thy limbs all trembling, and thy cheeks all pale;
With fruitless sorrow, thou, inglorious maid,
Wilt weep thy safety by thy love betray'd:
Then to thy friend, by foes o'ercharg'd, deny
Thy little useless aid, and coward fly:
[love
Then wilt thou curse the chance that made thee
A banish'd man condemn'd in lonely woods to

rove.

EMMA.

With fatal certainty Thalestris knew
To send the arrow from the twanging yew:
And, great in arms, and foremost in the war,
Bonduca brandish'd high the British spear.
Could thirst of vengeance and desire of fame
Excite the female breast with martial flame?
And shall not love's diviner pow'r inspire
More hardy virtue, and more generous fire?
Near thee, mistrust not, constant I'll abide,
And fall, or vanquish, fighting by thy side.
Though my inferior strength may not allow,
That I should bear or draw the warrior bow;
With ready hand I will the shaft supply,
And joy to see thy victor arrows fly.
Touch'd in the battle by the hostile reed,
Should'st thou (but Heav'n avert it!) should'st

thou bleed;

But canst thou, tender maid, canst thou sustain
Afflictive want, or hunger's pressing pain?'
Those limbs, in lawn and softest silk array'd,
From sun-beams guarded, and of winds afraid;
Can they bear angry Jove? Can they resist
The parching dog-star, and the bleak north-east,
When, chill'd by adverse snows, and beating
rain,

We tread with weary steps the longsome plain;
When with hard toil we seek our evning food,
Berries and acorns from the neighb'ring wood;
And find among the cliffs no other house,
But the thin covert of some gather'd boughs;

Around the dreary waste; and weeping try
(Tho' then, alas! that trial be too late)
To find thy father's hospitable gate,

And seats, where Ease and Plenty brooding sate?
Those seats, whence long excluded thou must
That gate, forever barr'd to thy return: [mourn;
Wilt thou not then bewail ill-fated love,
And hate a banish'd man condemn'd in woods
to rove?

EMMA.

Thy rise of fortune did I only wed,
From its decline determin'd to recede?
Did I but purpose to embark with thee
On the smooth surface of a summer's sea,
While gentle Zephyrs play in prosp'rous gales,
And Fortune's favor fills the swelling sails:
But would forsake the ship, and make the shore,
When the winds whistle, and the tempests roar?
No, Henry, no: one sacred oath has tv'd
Our loves; one destiny our life shall guide;
Nor wild nor deep our common way divide.

When from the cave thou risest with the day,
To beat the woods, and rouse the bounding prey,
The cave with moss and branches I'll adorn,
And cheerful sit, to wait my lord's return:
And, when thou frequent bring'st the smitten

deer

(For seldom, archers say, thy arrows err),
I'll fetch quick fuel from the neighb'ring wood,
And strike the sparkling flint, and dress the
With humble duty, and officious haste, [food:
I'll cull the furthest mead for thy repast:
The choicest herbs I to thy board will bring;
And draw thy water from the freshest spring:
And when, at night, with weary toil opprest,
Soft slumbers thou enjoy'st, and wholesome rest:
Watchful I'll guard thee, and with midnight
pray'r

Weary the gods to keep thee in their care;
And joyous ask, at morn's returning ray,
If thou hast health, and I may bless the day,
My thoughts shall fix, my latest wish depend,
On thee, guide, guardian, kinsman, father, friend:
By all these sacred names be Henry known
That she, of all mankind, could love but hun
To Emma's heart: and grateful let him own, (

alone.

HENRY.

Vainly thou tell'st me, what the woman's care
Shall in the wildness of the wood prepare.
Thou, ere thou goest, unhappiest of thy kind,
Must leave the habit and the sex behind.
No longer shall thy comely tresses break
In flowing ringlets on thy snowy neck;
Or sit behind thy head, an ample round,
In graceful braids with various ribbon bound:
No longer shall the boddice, aptly lac'd
From thy full bosom to thy slender waist,
That air and harmony of shape express,
Fine by degrees, and beautifully less:
Nor shall thy lower garments' artful plait,
From thy fair side dependent to thy feet,

thee,

I'll mingle with the people's wretched lee ;
O line extreme of human infamy!
hideWanting the scissars, with these hands I'll tear.
(If that obstructs my flight) this load of hair.
Black soot or yellow walnut shall disgrace
This little red and white of Emma's face.
These nails with scratches shall deform my
breast,

Lest by my look or color be express'd
The mark of aught high-born, or ever better
dress'd.

Yet in this commerce, under this disguise,
Let me be grateful still in Henry's eyes;
Lost to the world, let me to him be known:
My fate I can absolve; if he shall own,
That, leaving all mankind, I love but him
alone.

Arm their chaste beauties with a modest pride, | For thee, my clothes, my sex, exchang'd for-
And double ev'ry charm they seek to hide.
Th' ambrosial plenty of thy shining hair,
Cropt off and fost, scarce lower than thy ear,
Shallstand uncouth: a horseman's coat shall
Thy taper shape and comeliness of side: [knec
The short trunk-hose shall show thy foot and
Licentious, and to common eye-sight free,
And, with a bolder stride, and looser air,
Mingled with men, a man thou must appear.
Nor solitude, nor gentle peace of mind,
Mistaken maid, shalt thou in forests find:
"Tis long since Cynthia and her train were ther":
Or guardian gods made innocence their care.
Vagrants and outlaw shall offend thy view;
For such must be my friends; a hideous crew
By adverse fortune mix'd in social ill,
Train'd to assault, and disciplin'd to kill :'
Their common loves, a lewd abandon'd pack,
The beadle's lash still flagrant on their back :
By sloth corrupted, by disorder fed,
Made bold by want, and prostitute for bread :
With such must Emma hunt the tedious day,
Assist their violence, and divide their
prey:
With such she must return at setting light,
Tho' not partaker, witness of their night.
Thy ear, inur'd to charitable sounds,
And pitying love, must feel the hateful wounds
Of jest obscene and vulgar ribaldry,
The ill-bred question, and the lewd reply;
Brought by long habitude from bad to worse,
Must hear the frequent oath, the direful curse,
The latest weapon of the wretches war ;
And blasphemy, sad comrade of despair.

Now Emma now the last reflection make,
Whatthouwouldst follow, whatthoumustforsake:
By our ill-omen'd stars, and adverse heav'n,
No middle object to thy choice is given.
Or yield thy virtue, to attain thy love; [rove.
Or leave a banish'd man condemn'd in woods to

EMMA.

O grief of heart! that our unhappy fates
Force thee to suffer what thy honor hates;
Mix thee amongst the bad; or make thee ran
Too near the paths which virtue bids three shun.
Yet with her Henry still let Emma gọ;
With him abhor the vice, but share the woe:
And sure my little heart can never err
Amidst the worst; if Henry still be there.

Our outward act is prompted from within;
And from the sinner's mind proceeds the sin :
By her own choice free Virtue is approv'd;
Nor by the force of outward objects mov'd.
Who has assay'd no danger gains no praise,
In a small isle, amidst the widest seas,
Triumphant Constancy has fix'd her seat:
In vain the syrens sing, the tempests beat:
Their flattery she rejects, nor fears their threat.

For thee alone these little charms I dress'd;
Condemn'd them, or absolv'd them by thy test.
In comely figure rang'd, my jewels shonë,
Or negligently plac'd, for thee alone:
For thee again they shall be laid aside;
The womon, Henry, shall put off her pride

HENRY.

O wildest thought of an abandon'd mind!
Name, habit, parents, woman, eft behind,
Ev'n honor dubious, thou preferr'st to go
Wild to the woods with me: said Emma so?
Or did I dream what Emma never said?
O guilty error! and O wretched maid !
Whose roving fancy would resolve the same
With him, who next should tempt her easy

fame;

[flame. And blow with empty words the susceptiblej Now why should doubtful terms thy mind perConfess thy frailty, and avow thy sex: [plex? No longer loose desire for constant love Mistake; but say, 'tis man with whom thou long'st to rove.

EMMA.

[swords; Are there not poisons, racks, and flames, and That Emma thus must die by Henry's words? Yet what could swords or poison, racks or flame,

But mangle and disjoint this brittle frame? More fatal Henry's words: they murder Emma's fame.

And fall these sayings from that gentle tongue,
Where civil speech and soft persuasion hung;
Whose artful sweetness and harmonious stain,
Courting my grace, yet courting it in vain,
Call'd sighs, and tears, and wishes, to its aid;
And, whilst it Henry's glowing flame convey'd
Sill blam'd the coldness of the Nut-brownmaid?

Let envious jealousy and canker'd spite
Produce my actions to severest light,
And tax my open day, or secret night.
Did e'er my tongue speak my unguarded heart
The least inclin'd to play the wauton's part?
Did e'er my eye one inward thought reveal,
Which angels might not hear, and virgius tell?
And hast thou, Henry, in my conduct known
One fault, but that which I must never own,
That I, of all mankind, have lov'd but thee
alone?

HENRY.

Vainly thou talk'st of loving me alone: Each man is man; and all our sex is one.

False

These lovers' constancy, should share their fate.

Hence then for ever from my Emma's breast, And those, they vow'd, whose lives should imitate (That heaven of softness, and that seat of rest), Yedoubts and fears, and all that know to move Tormenting grief, and all that trouble love Scatter'd bywindsrecede,andwildinforestsrove.

EMMA.

O day the fairest sure that ever rose!
Period and end of anxious Edward's woes!
Sire of her joy, and source of her delight;
O wing'd with pleasure take thy happy flight,
And give each future morn a tincture of thy
white.

Yet tell thy votary, potent queen of love!
Henry, my Henry, will he never rove?
Will be ever kind, and just, and good?
And is there then no mistress in the wood?

None, none, there is, the thought was rash and
A false idea, and a fancied pain. [vain;
Doubt shall for ever quit my strengthen'd heart,
And anxious jealousy's corroding smart;
No other inmate shall inhabit there,

gone;

}

But soft Belief, young Joy, and pleasing Care.
Hence let the tides of plenty ebb and flow,
And Fortune's various gale unheeded blow.
If at my feet the suppliant goddess stands,
And sheds her treasure with unwearied hands;
Her present favor cautious I'll embrace;
And not unthankful use the proffer'd grace:
If she reclaims the temporary boon,
And tries her pinions, flutt'ring to be
Secure of mind I'll obviate her intent,
And unconcern'd return the goods she lent.
Nor happiness can I, nor misery feel,
From any turn of her fantastic wheel: [pow'rs,
Friendship's great laws, and love's superior
Must mark the color of my future hours.
From the events which thy commands create
I must my blessings or my sorrows date:
And Henry's will must dictate Emma's fate.
Yet while with close delight and inward pride
(Which from the world my careful soul shall
I see thee, lord and end of my desire, [hide)
Exalted high as virtue can require;
With power invested, and with pleasure cheer'd;
Sought by the good, by the oppressor fear'd;
Loaded and blest with all the affluent store
Which human vows at smoking shrines implore;
Grateful and humble grant me to employ
My life subservient only to thy joy;
And at my death to bless thy kindness shown
To her, who of mankind could love but thee alone.
WHILE thus the constant pair alternate said,
Joyful above them and around them play'd
Angels and sportive Loves, a numerous crowd;
Smiling they clapp'd their wings and low they
They tumbled all their littlequivers o'er, [bow'd:
To choose propitious shafts; a precious store,
That, when their god should take his future darts,
To strike (however rarely) constant hearts,
His happy skill might proper arms employ,
All tipp'd with pleasure, and all wing'd'withjoy;

The queen of beauty stopp'd her bridled doves;
Approv'd the little labor of the Loves ;
Was proud and pleas'd the mutual vow to hear;
And to the triumph call'd the god of war:
Soon as she calls, the god is always near.

Now, Mars, she said, let Fame exalt her voice;
Nor let thy conquests only be her choice:
But when she sings great Edward from the field"
Return'd, the hostile spear and captive shield
In Concord's temple hung, and Gallia taught
to yield;

And when, as prudent Saturn shall complete
The years design'd to perfect Britain's state,
Theswift-wing'dpow'rshalltakeher trumpagain,
To sing her favorite Anna's wondrous reign;
To recollect unwearied Marlbro's toils,
Old Rufus' hall unequal to his spoils;
The British soldier from his high command
Glorious, and Gaul thrice vanquish'd by his
Let her at least perform what I desire; [hand:
With second breath the vocal brass inspire,
And tell the nations, in no vulgar strain,
What wars I manage, and what wreaths I gain.
And when thy laurels at any feet are cast;
And, when thy tumults and thy fights are past;
Faithful may'st thou, like British Henry prove
And Emma-like, let me return thy love.

Renown'd for truth, let all thy sons appear;
And constant beauty shall reward their care.

Mars smil'd, and bow'd: the Cyprian deity
Turn'd to the glorious ruler of the sky;
And verse, behold my deed, and sing my praise;
And thou, she smiling said, great god of days
As on the British earth, my fav'rite isle,
Thy gentle rays and kindest influence smile,
Thro all her laughing fields and verdant groves,
Proclaim with joy those memorable loves:
To celebrated sports and floral play
From every annual course let one great day
Be set aside; and, in the softest lays
Oft thy poetic sons, be solemn praise,
To the true Lover, and the Nut-brown Maid.
And everlasting marks of honor paid

$142. An Heroic Epistle to Sir William Cham-
bers, Knight, Comptroller General of his Ma-
jesty's Works, and Author of a late Disser-
tation on Oriental Gardening. Enriched with
Explanatory Notes, chiefly extracted from
that elaborate Performance.
ANON.

Non omnes arbusta juvant humilesque myricae.

VIRGIL.

KNIGHT of the Polar Star! by Fortune plac'd,
To shine the Cynosure of British taste;
Whose orb collects in one refulgent view
The scatter'd glories of Chinese Virtù ;
And spreads their lustre in so broad a blaze,
That Kingsthemselvesaredazzled, whiletheygaze!
O let the Muse attend thy march sublime,
And, with thy prose, caparison her rhyme;

Cynosure, an affected phrase; Cynosure is a Constellation of Ursa Minor, or the Lesser Bear, the next star to the Pole. Dr. Newton on the word in Milton,

Whose