To país the evening glooms in harmless play,holo
And, fweetly swearing, languish life away. T
An altar, bound with recent flow'rs, I rear
To thee, beft feafon of the various year;
All hail! fuch days in beauteous order ran,
So fwift, fo fweet, when first the world began,
In Eden's bow'rs, when man's great fire affign'd
The names, and natures of the brutal kind.

Then lamb, and lion friendly walk'd their round,
And hares, undaunted, lick'd the fondling hound;
Wondrous to tell! but when, with luckless hand,
Our daring mother broke the fole command,
Then want and envy brought their meagre train,
Then wrath came down, and death had leave to reign >
Hence foxes earth'd, and wolves abhor'd the day,
And hungry churles enfnar'd the nightly prey;
Rude arts at firft; but witty want refin'd *

The huntsman's wiles, and famine form'd the mind.

Bold Nimrod firft the lion's trophies wore,
The panther bound, and launc'd the bristling boar
He taught to turn the hare, to bay the deer,
And wheel the courfer in his mid career :

Ah! had he there restrain'd his tyrant hand!
Let me, ye pow'rs, an humbler wreath demand.
No pomps I afk, which crowns and fcepters yield,
Nor dang'rous lawrels in the dufty field;

Faft by the foreft, and the limpid fpring,

Give me the warfare of the woods to fing,

To breed my whelps, and healthful prefs the game,
A mean, inglorious, but a guiltless name,

And now thy female bears in ample womb The bane of hares, and triumphs yet to come, No fport, I ween, nor blaft of sprightly horn, Should tempt me then to hurt the whelps unborn.

Un

Unlock'd, in covers let her freely run,

To range thy courts, and bask before the fun;
Near thy full table let the fav'rite stand,

Stroak'd by thy fon's, or blooming daughter's hand.
Carefs, indulge, by arts the matron bribe,
T'improve her breed, and teem a vig'rous tribe. -

So, if fmall things may be compar'd with great, And nature's works the mufes imitate,

So, Itretch'd in fhades, and lull'd by murm'ring ftreams, Great Maro's breast receiv'd the heav'nly dreams. Reclufe, ferene the mufing prophet lay,

"Till thoughts in embryo, rip'ning, burft their way. Hence bees in ftate, and foaming courfers come, Heroes, and gods, and walls of lofty Rome.

To Apollo making Love. From Monfieur Fontenelle.

I.

Am, cry'd Apollo, when Daphne he woo'd, And panting for breath, the coy virgin pursu'd, When his wisdom, in manner most ample, expreft The long lift of the graces his godfhip poffeft:

II.

I'm the god of fweet fong, and infpirer of lays;
Nor for lays, nor fweet fong, the fair fugitive stays;
I'm the god of the harp - stop my fairest
- in vain ;
Nor the harp, nor the harper, could fetch her again.

III.

III.

Ev'ry plant, ev'ry flow'r, and their virtues I know,
God of light I'm above, and of phyfic below:
At the dreadful word phyfic, the nymph fled more faft;
At the fatal word phyfic fhe doubled her haste.

IV.

Thou fond god of wisdom, then alter thy phrase,
Bid her view thy young bloom, and thy ravishing rays,
Tell her lefs of thy knowledge, and more of thy charms,
And, my life for't, the damfel shall fly to thy arms.

M

The fatal Curiofity.

UCH had I heard of fair Francelia's name,
The lavish praises of the babler, fame,'
I thought them fuch, and went prepar'd to pry,
And trace the charmer, with a critic's eye,
Refolv'd to find fome fault, before unfpy'd,
And disappointed, if but fatisfy'd.

Love pierc'd the vassal heart, that durft rebel,
And where a judge was meant, a victim fell :
On thofe dear eyes, with fweet perdition gay,
I gaz'd, at once, my pride and foul away ;
All o'er I felt the luscious poifon run,
And, in a look, the hafty conquest won.

Thus the fond moth around the taper plays,
And sports, and flutters near the treach'rous blaze;
Ravish'd with joy he wings his eager flight,
Nor dreams of ruin in fo clear a light;

He tempts his fate, and courts a glorious doom,
A bright deftruction, and a fhining tomb.

To

}

To a Lady; with a Defcription of the Phoenix.

L

appear

the lines,

Avifh of wit, and bold
Where Claudian's genius in the Phoenix fhines;
A thousand ways each brillant point is turn'd,
And the gay poem, like its theme, adorn'd:
A tale more ftrange ne'er grac'd the poets art,
Nor e'er did fiction play fo wild a part.

Each fabled charm in matchlefs Cælia meets,
The heav'nly colours, and ambrofial sweets;
Her virgin bofom chafter fires fupplies,

And beams more piercing guard her kindred eyes.
O'erflowing wit th' imagin'd wonder drew,

But fertile fancy ne'er can reach the true.

Now buds your youth, your cheeks their bloom difclose,

Th' untainted lilly, and unfolding rofe;

Eafe in your mein, and sweetness in your face,
You speak a Syren, and you move a Grace;
Nor time shall urge there beauties to decay,
While virtue gives, what years shall steal away:
The fair, whofe youth can boast the worth of age,
In age fhall with the charms of youth engage;
In ev'ry change ftill lovely, ftill the fame,
A fairer Phoenix in a purer flame.

A

A defcription of the Phoenix: from
Claudian.

N utmost ocean lies a lovely ifle,

Where spring still blooms, and greens for ever fmile, Which fees the fun put on his first array,

And hears his panting steeds bring on the day;
When, from the deep, they rufh with rapid force,
And whirl aloft, to run their glorious course;
When' first appear the ruddy streaks of light,
And glimm'ring beams dispel the parting night.
'In these foft fhades, unpreft by human feet,
The happy Phoenix keeps his balmy seat,
Far from the world disjoin'd; he reigns alone,
Alike the empire, and its king unknown.
A god-like bird! whofe endless round of years
Out-lafts the stars, and tires the circling spheres ;
Not us'd like vulgar birds to eat his fill,
Or drink the chrystal of the murmʼring rill;
But fed by warmth from Titan's purer ray,
And flak'd by streams which eastern seas convey;
Still he renews his life in these abodes,

Contemns the pow'r of fate, and mates the gods.

His fiery eyes shoot forth a glitt'ring ray,
And round his head ten thousand glories play;
High on his creft, a ftar celeftial bright
Divides the darknefs with its piercing light;
His legs are ftain'd with purple's lively dye,
His azure wings the fleeting winds out-fly;
Soft plumes of cheerful blue his limbs infold,
Enrich'd with fpangles, and bedropt with gold.
Begot by none himself, begetting none,
Sire of himself he is, and of himself the fon;