More happy! laid where trees with trees entwin'd
In bowery arches tremble to the wind,
With innocence and fhade like Adam bleft,
While a new Eden opens in the breast!
Such were the scenes defcending angels trod
In guiltless days, when man convers'd with God.
Then shall my lyre to loftier founds be ftrung,
Infpir'd by Homer, or what thou haft fung:
My Mufe from thine shall catch a warmer ray;
As clouds are brighten'd by the God of day.
So trees unapt to bear, by art refin'd,
With fhoots ennobled of a generous kind,
High o'er the ground with fruits adopted rife,
And lift their spreading honours to the kies.
DIALOGUE
Between a LADY and her LOOKING-GLASS, while she had the Green-Sickness.
THE gay Ophelia view'd her face
In the clear cryftal of her glafs; The lightning from her eye was fled, Her cheek was pale, the roses dead.
Then thus Ophelia, with a frown :Art thou, falfe thing, perfidious grown! I never could have thought, I swear, To find fo great a flanderer there!
* Dr. Broome tranflated eight books of the Odyffey:
Falfe thing! thy malice I defy!
Beaux vow I'm fair-who never lye.
More brittle far than brittle thou,
Would every grace of woman grow,
If charms fo great so soon decay,
The bright poffeffion of a day!
But this I know, and this declare,
That thou art falfe, and I am fair.
The glass was vex'd to be bely'd,
And thus with angry tone reply'd:
No more to me of falsehood talk,
But leave your oatmeal and your chalk!
'Tis true, you 're meagre, pale, and wan;
The reason is, you 're fick for man.—
While yet it spoke, Ophelia frown'd,
And dafh'd th' offender to the ground;
With fury from her arm it fled,
And round a glittering ruin fpread;
When lo! the parts pale looks disclose,
Pale looks in every fragment rofe;
Around the room inftead of one,
An hundred pale Ophelias fhone;
Away the frighted virgin flew,
And humbled, from herself withdrew.
THE MORA L.
Ye beaux, who tempt the fair and young,
With fnuff, and nonfenfe, dance, and fong;
Ye men of compliment and lace!
Behold this image in the glass:
The wondrous force of flattery prove,
To cheat fond virgins into love :
Though pale the cheek, yet swear it glows
With the vermilion of the rose:
Praise them-for praise is always true,
Though with both eyes the cheat they view.
From hateful truths the virgin flies;
But the falfe fex is caught with lyes.
ON THE SEAT OF WAR IN FLANDERS,
Chiefly with relation to the Sieges:
With the Praife of PEACE and RETIREMENT.
"Seceffus mei non defidiæ nomen, fed tranquillitatis accipiant."
APPY, thou Flandria, on whofe fertile plains,
In wanton pride luxurious plenty reigns;
Happy! had heaven bestow'd one bleffing more,
And plac'd thee diftant from the Gallic power!
But now in vain thy lawns attract the view,
They but invite the victor to fubdue:
War, horrid war, the fylvan scene invades,
And
angry trumpets pierce the woodland shades; Here shatter'd towers, proud works of many an age, Lie dreadful monuments of human rage;
There palaces and hallow'd domes display
Majestic reins, awful in decay!
Thy very duft, though undistinguish'd trod,
Compos'd, perhaps, fome hero, great and good,
Who nobly for his country lost his blood!
Ev'n with the grave, the haughty spoilers war,
And death's dark manfions wide difclofe to air:
O'er kings and faints insulting stalk, nor dread
To spurn the ashes of the glorious dead.
See! the Britannic lions wave in air!
See! mighty Marlborough breathing death and war!
From Albion's fhores, at Anna's high commands,
The dauntiefs hero pours his martial bands.
As when in wrath ftern Mars the thunderer fends
To fcourge his foes; in pomp the God defcends;
He mounts his iron car; with fury burns;
The car fierce-rattling thunders as it turns;
Gloomy he grafps his adamantine shield,
And scatters armies o'er th' enfanguin'd field:
With delegated wrath thus Marlborough glows,
In vengeance rushing on his country's fees.
See! round the hoftile towers embattled ftands
His banner'd host, embodied bands by bands!
Hark! the fhrill trumpet sends a mortal found,
And prancing horfes fhake the folid ground;
The furly drums beat terrible afar,
With all the dreadful mufic of the war;
From the drawn fwords effulgent flames arise,
Flash o'er the plains, and lighten to the skies;
The heavens above, the fields and floods beneath,
Glare formidably bright, and fhine with death;
In fiery storms defcends a murderous shower,
Thick flash the lightnings, fierce the thunders roar.
As when in wrathful mood Almighty Jove
Aims his dire bolts red-hiffing from above;
Through the fing'd air, with unrefifted sway,
The forky vengeance rends its flaming way,
And, while the firmament with thunder roars,
From their foundations hurls imperial towers;
So rush the globes with many a fiery round,
Tear up the rock, or rend the ftedfaft mound.
Death shakes aloft her dart, and o'er her prey
Stalks with dire joy, and marks in blood her way;
Mountains of heroes flain deform the ground,
The fhape of man half bury'd in the wound:
And lo! while in the fhock of war they close,
While fwords meet fwords, and foes encounter foes,
The treacherous earth beneath their footsteps cleaves,
Her entrails tremble, and her bofom heaves;
Sudden in bursts of fire eruptions rife,
And whirl the torn battalions to the skies.
Thus earthquakes, rumbling with a thundering found, Shake the firm world, and rend the cleaving ground; Rocks, hills, and groves, are toft into the sky, And in one mighty ruin nations die.
See! through th' encumber'd air the ponderous bomb Bears magazines of death within its womb;
|