Whofe thousand times ten thousand lamps display
A friendly radiance, mingling ray with ray?
Say, canft thou rule the courfers of the fun,
Or lafh the lazy fign, Boötes, on?
Doft thou inftruct the eagle how to fly,
To mount the viewlefs winds, and tower the fky?
On founding pinions borne, he foars, and fhrouds
His proud afpiring head among the clouds ;
Strong-pounc'd, and fierce, he darts upon his prey,
He fails in triumph through the ethereal way,
Bears on the fun, and basks in open day.
Does the dread King, and terror of the wood,
The lion, from thy hand expect his food?
Stung with keen hunger from his den he comes,
Ranges the plains, and o'er the forest roams ;
*He fnuffs the track of beafts, he fiercely roars,
Doubling the horrors of the midnight hours;
With fullen majefty he stalks away,
And the rocks tremble while he feeks his prey:
Dreadful he grins, he rends the favage brood
With unheath'd paws, and churns the spouting blood.
Doft thou with thunder-arm the generous horfe,
Add nervous limbs, or fwiftnefs for the courfe?
Fleet as the wind, he fhoots along the plain,
And knows no check, nor hears the curbing rein;
*He mocks the beating ftorms and wintery fhowers, Making night hideous, as he fternly roars.
His fiery eye-balls formidably bright,
Dart a fierce glory, and a dreadful light,
Pleas'd with the clank of arms, and trumpets found, He bounds, and prancing paws the trembling ground; He fnuffs the promis'd battle from afar,
Neighs at the captains, fhouts, and thunder of the war : Rouz'd with the noble din and martial fight,
He pants with tumults of fevere delight :
His fprightly blood an even course difdains,
Pours from his heart, and charges in his veins;
He braves the fpear, and mocks the twanging bow,
Demands the fight, and rushes on the foe.
Occafioned by the Death of a beloved Daughter, 1723.
DIEU vain mirth, and noify joys!
Ye gay defires, deluding toys!
Thou, thoughtful Melancholy, deign
To hide me in thy pensive train!
If by the fall of murmuring floods,
Where awful fhades embrown the woods,
Or if where winds in caverns groan,
Thou wandereft filent and alone;
Come, blissful mourner, wifely fad,
In forrow's garb, in fable clad,
Henceforth, thou Care, my hours employ !
Sorrow, be thou henceforth my joy!
By tombs where fullen fpirits stalk,
Familiar with the dead I walk;
While to my fighs and groans by turns,
From graves the midnight echo mourns.
Open thy marble jaws, O tomb,
Though earth conceal me in thy womb !
And you, ye worms, this frame confound,
Ye brother reptiles of the ground.
O life, frail offspring of a day!
'Tis puff'd with one short gasp away!
Swift as the fhort-liv'd flower it flies,
It fprings, it blooms, it fades, it dies.
With cries we usher in our birth,
With groans refign our transient breath :
While round, ftern minifters of fate,
Pain, and disease, and forrow wait.
While childhood reigns, the fportive boy
Learns only prettily to toy;
And while he roves from play to play,
The wanton trifles life away.
When to the noon of life we rife,
The man grows elegant in vice;
To glorious guilt in courts he climbs,
Vilely judicious in his crimes.
When youth and ftrength in age are loft,
Man feems already half a ghoft;
Wither'd, and wan, to earth he bows,
A walking hofpital of woes.
O! happiness, thou empty name!
Say, art thou bought by gold or fame?
What art thou, gold, but shining earth?
Thou common, fame, but common breath?
If virtue contradict the voice
Of public fame, applause is noise;
Ev'n victors are by conqueft curft,
The braveft warrior is the worst.
Look round on all that man below
Idly calls great, and all is show!
All, to the coffin from our birth,
In this vaft toy-shop of the earth.
Come then, O friend of virtuous woe,
With folemn pace, demure, and flow:
Lo! fad and ferious, I purfue
Thy fteps---adieu, vain world, adieu!
A PASTOR
They fing the different Succefs and Abfence of
To the Right Honourable the Lord Viscount TOWNSHEN D, of Rainham in Norfolk.
"Sylvæ funt Confule dignæ."
HOW calm the evening! fee the falling day
Gilds every mountain with a ruddy ray!
In gentle fighs the foftly whispering breeze
Salutes the flowers, and waves the trembling trees;
Hark! the night-warbler, from yon vocal boughs,
Glads every valley with melodious woes!
Swift through the air her rounds the fwallow takes,
Or fportive fkims the level of the lakes.
'The timorous deer, fwift-ftarting as they graze,
Bound off in crouds, then turn again, and gaze.
See how yon fwans, with fnowy pride elate,
Arch their high necks, and fail along in state!
Thy friking flocks fafe-wandering crop the plain,
And the glad feason claims a gladsome strain.
Ye echoes liften to the song,
And, with its fweetnefs pleas'd, each note prolong!
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