So berühmt er als Liederdichter ist, so scheint er mir doch von andern åltern und spåtern seiner Nation, nicht sowohl an Eleganz, als an Wärme der Empfindung und Natur der Sprache, übertroffen zu seyn. Bey dem allen urtheilt doch Dr. Johnson, in dieser Gattung vielleicht ge rade der ungültigste Richter, viel zu hart; denn ihm sind Prior's verliebte Gedichte: the dull exercifes of a fkilful verfifyer, refolved at all adventures to write foumething about Chloe, and trying to be amorous by dint of study.

TO CHLOE JEALOUS,

Yes, faireft proof of beauty's power,
Dear idol of my panting heart,
Nature points this my fatal hour;

And I have liv'd; and we must part.

While now I take my last adieu,

Heave thou no figh, nor fhed a tear,
Left yet my half-clof'd eye may view
On earth an object worth its care.

From jealoufy's tormenting ftrife
For ever be thy bofom freed;
That nothing may disturb thy life,
Content I haften to the dead.

Yet when fome better fated youth

Shall with his amorous parly move thee,

Reflect one moment on his truth,

Who dying thus perfifts to love thee.

SONG.

SONG.

If wine and mufic have the pow'r
To eafe the fickness of the foul,
Let Phoebus ev'ry ftring explore,
And Bacchus fill the fprightly bowl!
Let them their friendly aid employ
To make my Chloe's abfence light,
And feek for pleasure, to destroy
The forrows of this live-long night!

But fhe to morrow will return;

Venus, be thou to morrow great,
Thy myrtles ftrew, thy odours burn,
And meet thy fav'rite nymph in state.
Kind goddefs, to no other pow'rs

Let us to morrow's bleffings own;
The darling loves fhall guide the hours,
And all the day be thine alone!

Shenstone.

1

Die Anzahl der Lieder von ihm`ist nicht geringe; und es giebt nur wenige darunter, die nicht wenigstens stellens weise die feine Empfindung und die glückliche, lebenvolle Sprache der drei folgenden hätten.

THE LANDSCAPE

How pleas'd within my native bow'rs
Erewhile I pals'd the day!

Was ever fcene fo deck'd with flow'rs?
Were ever flow'rs fo gay?

Prior. Shenstone.

Shenstone

How fweetly fmil'd the hill, the vale,
And all the Landscape round!

The river gliding down the dale,
The hill with beeches crown'd!

But now, when urg'd by tender woes,
I fpeed to meet my dear,

That hill and ftream my zeal oppose,
And check my fond career.

No more, fince Daphne was my theme,
Their wonted charms I fee;

That verdant hill and filver ftream

Divide my love and me.

SON G.

For a fhape, and a bloom, and an air, and a mien,

Myrtilla was brightest of all the gay green,

But artfully wild and affectedly coy,

Thofe her beauties invited her pride would deftroy.

By the flocks as fhe ftray'd with the nymphs of
the vale,

Not a fhepherd but woo'd her to hear his foft tale;
Tho' fatal the paffion fhe laugh'd at the fwain,
And return'd with neglect what fhe heard with
difdain.

But beauty has wings and to haftily flies,
And love unrewarded foon fickens and dies;
The nymph cur'd by time of her folly and pride,
Now fighs in her turn for the blifs fhe deny'd.

No longer fhe frolicks it wide o'er the plain,
To kill with her coynefs the languishing swain;
So humbled her pride is, fo foften'd her mind,
That tho' courted by none fhe to all would be kind.

SONG.

SON G.'

When Damon languifh'd at my feet,
And I believ'd himn true,

The moments of delight how fweet!
But ah! how fwift they flew!
The funny hill, the flow'ry vale,
The garden and the grove,
Have echo'd to his ardent tale,
And vows of endless love.

The conqueft gain'd, he left the prize,
He left her to complain,

To talk of joy with weeping eyes,

And measure time by pain.

But Heav'n will take the mourner's part

In pity to despair,

And the laft figh that rends the heart
Shall waft the fpirit there.

Shenstone.
Dr. Percy.

Dr. Percy.

Dr. Thomas Percy, jest Bischof zu Dromore in Irland, Herausgeber der mit so vielem Geschmack gesam melten und kommentirten Reliques of anc. Engl. Poetry, ift Verfasser folgendes angenehmen, naifen Liedes, worin einige der schönsten Züge aus Priors Henry and Emma bes nugt find.