When first admitted to that heav'n, thy breast,
To mine I ftrain'd that charming foe to reft;
How leaps my conscious heart, whilst I retrace
The dear idea of that ftrict embrace?
When on thy bofom quite entranc'd I lay,
And lov'd unfated the fhort night away;
Whilst half reluctant you, and half refign'd,
Amidst fears, wishes, pain and pleasure join'd,
Now holding off, now growing to my breast,
By turns reprov'd me, and by turns carefs'd.
Oh! how remembrance throbs in
every vein!
I pant, I ficken for that scene again;
My fenfes ach, I can no word command,
And the pen totters in my trembling hand.
Farewel, thou only joy on earth I know,
And all that man can taste of heav'n below.
* VERSES to Dr. GEORGE ROGERS, on his taking the Degree of Doctor in Phyfic at Padua, in the Year 1664.
HEN as of old the earth's bold children ftrove,
With hills on hills, to scale the throne of Jove;
Pallas and Mars ftood by their fovereign's fide,
And their bright arms in his defence employ'd.
While the wife Phoebus, Hermes, and the reft,
Who joy in peace and love the Mufes beft,
Defcending from their fo distemper'd seat,
Our groves and meadows chofe for their retreat.
There firft Apollo tried the various use
Of herbs, and learn'd the virtue of their juice,
And fram'd that art, to which who can pretend
A jufter title than our noble friend,
*This little poem was, among feveral others on the fame occafion, printed by Dr. Rogers, with his inaugural exercise at Padua; and afterwards in the fame manner re-published by him at London, together with his Harveian oration before the college of physicians, in the year 1682; while Mr. Waller was yet living.
Whom the like tempeft drives from his abode,
And like employment entertains abroad?
This crowns him here; and, in the bays fo earn'd,
His country's honour is no lefs concern'd;
Since it appears, not all the English rave,
To ruin bent: fome ftudy how to fave.
And as Hippocrates did once extend
His facred art, whole cities to amend;
So we, brave friend, fuppofe that thy great skill,
Thy gentle mind, and fair example, will,
At thy return, reclaim our frantic ifle,
Their fpirits calm; and peace again fhall fmile.
EDM. WALLER, Anglus.
Patavii, typis Pauli Frambotti.
VIRGIL's Tomb. NAPLES 1741.
·Tenues ignavo pollice chordas
Pulfo; Maroneique fedens in margine templi
Sumo animum, & magni tumulis adcanto magiftri. Stat.
Came, great bard, to gaze upon thy fhrine,
And o'er thy relicks wait th' infpiring Nine:
For fure, I faid, where Maro's afhes fleep,
The weeping Mufes muft their vigils keep:
Still o'er their fav'rite's monument they mourn,
And with poetic trophies grace his urn:
Have placed the fhield and martial trumpet here;
The fhepherd's pipe, and rural honours there:
Fancy had deck'd the confecrated ground,
And scatter'd never-fading roses round.
And now my bold romantic thought afpires
To hear the echo of celeftial lyres;
Then catch fome found to bear delighted home,
And boast I learnt the verse at Virgil's tomb;
Or ftretch'd beneath thy myrtle's fragrant fhade,
With dreams extatic hov'ring o'er my head,
See forms auguft, and laurel'd ghosts afcend,
And with thyself, perhaps, the long proceffion end.
I came but foon the phantoms difappear'd;
Far other scenes, than wanton Hope had rear'd;
No faery rites, no funeral pomp I found;
No trophied walls with wreaths of laurel round:
A mean unhonour'd ruin faintly show'd
The spot where once thy maufoleum stood:
Hardly the form remain'd; a nodding dome
O'ergrown with mofs is now all Virgil's tomb.
'Twas fuch a fcene as gave a kind relief ·
To memory, in fweetly-penfive grief:
Gloomy, unpleafing images it wrought;
No mufing, foft complacency of thought:
For Time had canker'd all, and worn away
Ev'n the laft, mournful graces of decay:
Oblivion, hateful goddess, fate before,
And cover'd with her dufky wings the door :
No filver harps I heard, no Muse's voice,
But birds obfcene in horrid notes rejoice:
Fancy recoil'd, and with his tinsel train,
Forfook the chearless scene; no more remain
The warm ambitious hopes of airy youth;
Severe Reflection came, and frowning Truth:
Away each glitt'ring gay idea fled,
And bade a melancholy train fucceed,
That form'd, or feem'd to form, a mournful call
In feeble echoes mutt'ring round the wall.
Seek not the Mufes here! th' affrighted maids
Have fled Parthenope's polluted fhades:
Her happy fhores, the feats of joy and ease,
Their fav'rite manfions once, no longer please:
No longer, as of old, in tranfport loft,
The fifters rove along th' enchanted coast;
They turn with horror from each much-lov'd ftream, And loath the fields that were their darling theme:
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