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There every thought the poet's warmth may raise,
There native music dwells in all the lays.
O might some verse with happiest skill persuade
Expressive Picture to adopt thine aid !
What wondrous draughts might rise from every
What other Raphaels charm a distant age! [page!

Methinks even now I view fome free design, Where breathing Nature lives in


line : Chaste and subdued the modeft lights decay, Steal into shades, and mildly melt away.

- And fee, where * Anthony, in tears approv'd,
Guards the pale relics of the chief he lov'd :
O’er the cold corse the warrior seems to bend,
Deep funk in grief, and mourns his murder'd friend!
Still as they press, he calls on all around,
Lifts the torn robe, and points the bleeding wound.

But + who is he, whose brows exalted bear A wrath impatient, and a fiercer air?

* See the tragedy of Julius Cæfar.
+ Coriolanus. See Mr. Spence’s dialogue on the Odyssey.


Awake to all that injur'd worth can feel,
On his own Rome he turns th' avenging feel.
Yet shall not war's insatiate fury fall,
(So heaven ordains it) on the destin'd wall.
See the fond mother, 'midit the plaintive train,
Hang on his knees, and proftrate on the plain !
Touch'd to the foal, in vain he strives to hide
The son's affection, in the Roman's pride :
O'er all the man confli&ing paflions rise,
Rage grasps the sword, while Pity melts the eyes.

Thus, generous Critic, as thy Bard inspires,
The fifter Arts fhall nurse their drooping fires;
Each from his scenes her stores alternate bring,
Blend the fair tints, or wake the vocal string :
Those Sibyl-leaves, the sport of every wind,
(For poets ever were a careless kind)
By thee dispos’d, no farther coil demand,
But, just to Nature, own thy forming hand,


So spread o'er Greece, th' harmonious whole

unknown, Even Homer's numbers charm'd by parts alone. Their own Ulysses scarce had wander'd more, By winds and waters cast on every shore : When rais'd by fate, some former Hanmer join'd Each beauteous image of the boundless mind; And bade, like thee, his Athens ever claim A fond alliance with the Poet's name.


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fair Fidele's graffy tomb

Soft maids, and village hinds shall bring
Each opening sweet, of earliest bloom,

And rifle all the breathing Spring.

No wailing ghost shall dare appear

To vex with shrieks this quiet grove,
But shepherd lads afsemble here,

And melting virgins own their love.

No wither'd witch shall here be seen,

No goblins lead their nightly crew;
The female fays shall haunt the green,

And dress thy grave with pearly dew!

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The red-breast oft at evening hours

Shall kindly lend his little aid,
With hoary mofs, and gather'd flowers,

To deck the ground where thou art laid.

When howling winds, and beating rain,

In tempests shake the fylvan cell ; Or 'midft the chace on every plain,

The tender thought on thee shall dwell.

Each lonely scene shall thee restore,

For thee the tear be duly shed ; Belov'd, till life can charm no more ;

And mourn'd, till Pity's self be dead:


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