Charms in reserve my soul surprise,
And by fresh wounds your lover dies.
Who can resist thee, lovely fair!
That wit! that soft engaging air!
Each panting heart its homage pays,
And all the vassal world obeys.
God of the grape, boast now no more
Thy triumphs on far Indus' shore;
Each useless weapon now lay down,
Thy tigers, car, and ivy-crown;
Give but this juice in full supplies,
And trust thy fame to Cloe's eyes.
THE LAMENTATION OF DAVID
OVER SAUL AND JONATHAN.
PROSTRATE on earth the bleeding warrior lies,
And Israel's beauty on the mountains dies.
How are the mighty fallen!
Hush'd be my sorrows, gently fall my tears,
Lest my sad tale should reach the aliens' ears:
Bid fame be dumb, and tremble to proclaim
In heathen Gath, or Ascalon, our shame,
Lest proud Philistia, lest our haughty foe,
With impious scorn insult our solemn woe.
O Gilboa! ye hills aspiring high,
The last sad scene of Israel's tragedy;
No fattening dews be on tby lawns distill'd,
No kindly showers refresh the thirsty field;
No hallow'd fruits thy barren soil shall raise,
No spotless kids that on our altars blaze;
Lonesome and wild shall thy bleak summits rise,
Accurs'd by men, and hateful to the skies.
On thee the shields of mighty warriors lay,
The shield of Saul was vilely cast away;
The Lord's anointed, Saul! his sacred blood
Distain'd thy brow, and swell'd the common flood.
How are the mighty fall'n!
Where'er their bands the royal heroes led,
The combat thicken'd and the mighty bled;
The slaughter'd hosts beneath their falchions die,
And wing'd with death unerring arrows fly;
Unknowing to return, still urge the foe,
As fate insatiate, and as sure the blow.
The son, who next his conquering father fought,
Repeats the wonders his example taught;
Eager his sire's illustrious steps to trace,
And by heroic deeds assert his race.
The royal eagle thus her ripening brood
Trains to the quarry, and directs to blood:
His darling thus the forest monarch rears,
A firm associate for his future wars;
In union terrible, they seize the prey,
The mountains tremble, and the woods obey.
In peace united, as in war combin'd,
Were Jonathan's and Saul's affections join'd;
Paternal grace with filial duty vied;
And love, the knot of nature, closer tied :
Ev'n fate relents, reveres the sacred band,
And undivided bids their friendship stand.
From earth to Heav'n enlarg'd, their joys improve,
Still fairer, brighter still they shine above,
Bless'd in a long eternity of love.
Daughters of Israel! o'er the royal urn
Wail and lament; the king, the father, mourn,
Oh! now at least indulge a pious woe,
'Tis all the dead receive, the living can bestow.
Cast off your rich attire and proud array,
Let undissembled sorrows cloud the day:
Those ornaments victorious Saul bestow'd,
With gold your necks, your robes with purple glow'd:
Quit crowns and garlands for the sable weed,
To songs of triumph let dumb grief succeed;
Let allour grateful hearts for our dead patronbleed.
How are the mighty fall'n!
Though thus distress'd, though thus o'erwhelm'd with
Light is the burden that admits relief;
My labouring sonl superior woes oppress,
Nor rolling time can heal, nor fate redress.
Another Saul your sorrows can remove,
No second Jonathan shall bless my love.
O Jonathan! my friend, my brother dear!
Eyes! stream afresh, and call forth every tear;
Swell, my sad heart! each faltering pulse beat low;
Down sink my head beneath this weight of woe.
Hear my laments, ye hills! ye woods! return
My ceaseless groans: with me, ye turtles! mourn.
How pleasant hast thou been! each lovely grace,
Each youthful charm, sat blooming on thy face:
Joy from thine eyes in radiant glories sprung,
And manna dropp'd from thy persuasive tongue.
Witness, great Heav'n! (from you those ardours
How wonderful his love! the kindest dame [came)
Lov'd not like him, nor felt so warm a flame.
No earthly passion to such height aspires,
And seraphs only burn with purer fires.
In vain, while honour calls to glorious arms,
And Israel's cause the pious patriot warms,
In vain, while deaths promiscuous fly below,
Nor youth can bribe, nor virtue ward the blow.
THE REV. MR. MOORE.
Of humble birth, but of more humble mind,
By learning much, by virtue more refin'd,
A fair and equal friend to all mankind:
Parties and sects, by fierce divisions torn,
Forget their hatred, and consent to mourn;
Their hearts unite in undissembled woe,
And in one common stream their sorrows flow.
Each part in life with equal grace he bore,
Obliging to the rich, a father to the poor.
From sinful riots silently he fled,
But came unbidden to the sick man's bed.
Manners and men he knew, and when to press
The poor man's cause, and plead it with success.
No penal laws he stretch'd, but won by love
His hearers' hearts, unwilling to reprove;
When sour rebukes, and harsher language fail,
Could with a lucky jest or merry tale
O'er stubborn souls in Virtue's cause prevail.
Whene'er he preach'd, the throng attentive stood,
Feasted with manna and celestial food:
He taught them how to live and how to die;
Nor did his actions give his words the lie.
Go, happy soul! sublimely take thy flight
Through fields of ether, in long tracts of light,
The guest of angels; range from place to place,
And view thy great Redeemer face to face.
Just God! eternal Source of pow'r and love!
Whom we lament on earth give us above;
Oh! grant us our companion and our friend,
In bliss without alloy, and without end!
EPITAPH UPON HUGH LUMBER,
IN cottages and homely cells
True piety neglected dwells,
Till call'd to Heav'n, her native seat,
Where the good man alone is great:
'Tis then this humble dust shall rise,
And view his Judge with joyful eyes,
While haughty tyrants shrink afraid,
And call the mountains to their aid.
C. WHITTINGHAM, Printer, Union Buildings, Leather Lane.
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