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Not faints in heav'n a purer warmth express, You need not then the gentle sound rejee,
Than reason feels, when touch'd by tenderocis. Should love's fear'd name be given to soft respect:
Relenting wisdom dignifies delire,

When ill-diftinguish'd meanings are the same,
And rais'd ideas fan the brighi'ning fire;

How poor the diff'rence which they draw from Till the white flame, afcending to the lky,

name! Spreads its low smoke in envy's darken'd eye. There are, in love, th' extremes of touch'd defire, Whence grew fociety, so wish'd an art,

The noblest brightness, or the coarsest fire ! If the mind's elegance betrays the heart !

lu vulgar bofoms vulgar wishes move; Were it a crime in flashing fouls to rile,

Nature guides choice, and, as men think, they love, And Itrike each other through the meeting eyes?

But when a pow'r like yours impele the wound, Those op'ning windows had not let in light,

Like the c!eár cause, the bright efteå is found. Nor Aream'd idcas out, to voice the light.

In the loose pallion, men profane the name,

Miftake the purpose, and pollute the flame : Why are you form'd so pow'rful in your charms, In nobler bosóms, friendship’s form it takes, of beauty ought to fly the wish it warms?

And sex alone, the lovely diff'rence makes. Tainly did heav'n inspire that tuneful tongue, Love's generous warmth does reason's pow'r dio With notes more sweet than ever seraph lung!

play, ", juftly, all that harmony you hide,

And fills desire, as light embodies day. four music useless, and its pow'r untry'd.

Love is to life what colour is to form : lave wie and eloquence in vain confpir’d, Plain drawings oft are just, but never warm. Dow! And giv'n you brightness, but to thine retir'd ? Love, in a blaze of tints, his light’ning throws; a Maft you be lovelist, yet be never shown? Then the form quickens, and the figure glows. * Than all be wiser, yet be heard by none?

Oh, 'tis too delicate ! ---'uis falsely nice, * To bar the heart against the mind's advice.

AN EPIGRAM, But you will say that honour's call you hear; Occasioned by Yome Verses on a Monument in Wefta That fame is tender-reputation dear :

minfier Abbey. Shat from the world's malignant blast you fly, rear the fool's tongue, and the discerner's eye.

How lost this pomp of verse! how vain the hopes the spleen of disappointed wishes dread,

That thought can dwell on Craggs, in view of Dr envy's whispers, by detraction spread ?

Pope! tlas: what bounds can limit your jetreat ?

When upon Rubicon's fam'd bank is showa Where will sought safety rest your flying feet?

Cæsar's press'd foot, on the remember'd stone; s there a corner in the globe so news

No traveller once asks the quarry's name, That malice will not find as sure as you?

Whence the coarse grit, by chance distinguish'a The very flighe that thuns, attracts the wrong?

came ; And every censure fear'd, you force along. (lay, But thinks, with reverence, here great Julius trod,

There's cause, no doubt, for her retreat, they'll And hails the footstep of a Roman god?

A fearless innocence had dar to stay!" icandal has, either way, an edge to strike,

TO MRS. LR, Ind wounds distinction every where alike : juperior excellence is doom'd to bear l'he stings of fland'rous hate, and raih despair : Tis the due tax your rated merit pays,

While o'er the dancing chords your fingers fly) And ev'ry judging car will call it praise.

And bid them live, till they have made us die ; Think -and be kind-convert this fruitless pain As if there dwelt a heart in every fring.

Trembling, in transport, at your touch they spring; To a fix'd firmness, and a calm disdain.

Your voice, fost rising, through the lengthen'd Since caurious absence can no more be free

notes, From falle reproach, than present smiles will be,

The marry'd harmony, united, floats; Diffuse those gifts which heav'n design'd should Two charms, so join'd, that they compose but one; blers,

Like heat and brightness from the self-fame fun. Nor let their greatness make their pity less.

The wishful viol would its wealth retain, Indulging freedom ev'ry fear difarm,

And, swectly conscious, hugs the pleasing pain, And, with a conscious scorn of Nander, charmi.

Envious, forbids the warbling joys to roll, Bold in your guarded strength your heart unbind, And, murm'sing inward, swells its founding soul. And to be safe---suppose yourself all mind.

Proud of its charming pow'r, your tunctul bowy, Yet needless that! since such respect you draw, Floats o'er the chords majestically flow; That ev'r your tenderness is arm'd with awe : Careless and soft, calls out a ride of art, Permitted love would silently admire,

And, in a form of muûc, drowas the heart. And a soft rev'rence tremble through desire; So when that god, who gave you all your skills The warmest wishes, when inspir'd by you, To angel forms (like yours) intrutts his will, Strike---bus as heav'nly inspirations do.

Calm they descend, some new-mcant world me The op'ning heart makes room for joys relia'd,

found, And ev'ry gross idea itsinks behind.

And, smiling, see creation rising round!



Independent, kind, and wife,

Scorns reftraint, and knows no ties.

Oh! the dear, the racking pain ;
SWEET endaver! can you tell,

Who that feeps thus would wake again Ere I learnt to love so well,

How my hours had wings to move,
All unbufied by my love!

Ox! forbcar to bid me flight her, 'Tis amazement now to me,

Soul and senses take her part; What could then a pleasure be!

Could my death itself delight ber, But you, like God, new sense can give,

Life should leap to leave my heart. And now, indeed, I feel I live.

Strong, though soft, a lover's chain, Oh! what pangs his breast alarm,

Charm'd with woe, and pleas'd with pain, Whom foul and body join to charm! Endless transports dance along,

Though the tender flame were dying, Sweetly foft! or nobly strong!

Love would light it at her eyes; ilming fancy ! cool reflection!

Or, her tuneful voice applying, Fierce de fire and aw'd subjection!

Through my ear my foul surprise.

Deaf, I see the fate I shun;
Aching hope ! and fear encreasing !
Struggling paffions, never ceasing!

Blind, I hear I am undone.
Withing ! trembling ! soul adering !
Ever bleft, and fill imploring.

Let the dull, the cold, and tame,

Now ponder well, ye husbands dear, All those dear disorders blame;

The fate of wives, too bright; Tell 'em that in honour's race,

A woeful cause you have to fear,
Charm'd by fome such heav'nly face,

Their day will turn to night.
Lovers always foreniost ran;
Love's a second soul to man.

At first all gay, and rais'd with joy,
Ease is languid, low, and base;

They charm the poor man's heart; Love excites a generous chafe :

With imiling eyes they sport and toy, Glory! wealth ambition ! wit!

And gild che nuptial dart. Thoughts for boundlefs empire fit!

But ah! too soon they quench their fire; All at love's approach are fir’d,

(Alas! good hearer, weep) Bent more ftrong, and never tir'd,

Then gape, and fretch, and yawn, and tire, He who feels not love's sweet pain

And hum their souls to deep.
Lives at ease--but lives in vain!
Little dream you what is due,

HINT FROM SOME OLD VERSES, Angel form! to love and you : 'Tis from you I joy possess ;

On a Stone in Stepney Cburcbwall. 'Tis by you my grief grows lefs :

Two thousand years, ere Stepney had a name, Sadly pensive, when alone,

In Carthage walls I shar'd the punic fame; I the shades of life bemoan;

There to the strongeft, added strength I lett, If some voice your name impart,

And proudly propp'd the world's beft ornament Care lies lighten'd at my heart;

Now to cold Britain a tern transport thrown, Ev'ry woe difarms its sting,

I piece a church-yard pile unmark'd, unknowo: And I look down on Britain's king.

Stain’d, and half funk in dirt, my sculpture lies

, When my fancy brings to view

And moulders, like the graves which rounds Works which wealth and pow'r can do;

rise. All my fpurr'd excitements wake,

Oh! think, blind mortals ! what frail du jou And fortune charms me for your sake.

And laugh at wealth, wit, beauty, pow'r, 23 Oh! I cry-'were heaven posselt,

fame; To make her great who made me bleft.

Short praise, can fieeting hopes like yours fupply

, In the morning when I rise,

Since times, and congues, and tow'rs, and enpuu Jf the fun-fhine strikes my eyes,

All that pleases in his view,
Is my hope to look on you.

When the fable fweep of night
Drowns distinction from my sight,

O’er the blue violet, while the amorous wind I no inward darkness find;

Bends and perfumes his wings, to fan this day; You are day-light to my mind.

Why has pale fickness winter'd o'er my mind, All my dreams are lives of joy,

And, with chill agucs, check'd the warmth of Which, in waking, I destroy :

May ? Vou, a llave to custom made,

Is it not Clio's birth-day?-Toil of thought! Are of forms and rules afraid :

Height beyond all that e'er ambition trod. But your happier image, free

Sum of refin'd defire ! by angels taught, From fantastic tyranny;

To look, and think, and act a female god!

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Oh! my rapt foul Gits trembling in my eyes, Then void and walte eternity shall lie,

Starting, impatient, at her pow'rful name : And time and Newton's name together die. Dearer than life, to that sweet sound it flies,

And health rides rosy on the living flame. TO MR. DYER, ON HIS ATTEMPTING Wak'd into suddeo strength, I blaze again,

CLIO's PICTURE. Love, the restorer, dress'd in Clio's (mile,

Soul of your honour'd art! what man can do Triumph'd o'er nature, gave delight to pain, In copying nature may be reach'd by you :

Sweeten'd affliction, and could death beguile. Your peopling pencil a new world can give, May joys unnumber'd, as the charmer's sweets, And, like Deucalion, teach the stones to live.

Bless this revolving day's eternal round; From your creating hand a war may flow, Till the proud world its dawn with rapture greets, And your warm strokes with breaching action Conscious of her who made it first renown'd.

glow : = Long-Jet 'em say-long ere our father's days,

But, from that angel form to catch the grace Three thousand years ago, on this sweet day,

And kindle up your ivory with her face ; Chat Clio, whom contending nations praise,

All unconsum'd to snatch the living fire, Embloom’d, by her sweet birth, the first of May. And limn th' ideas which those eyes inspire ; Britain, illustrious by the starry lot,

Strong to your burning circle to confine

That awe-mix'd sweetness, and that air divine; Far in the north, distinguish'd iland, lies, Now known by later names-oh, envy'd spot!

That sparkling soul, which lightens from within, Why did the not in our warm climates rise ?

And breaks in unspoke meanings through her ikin.

This, if you can-hard talk, and yet unprov'd: jure she was heav'nly grac'd; for to this hour,

Then mall you be adorn’d, as now belov’d. After such length of ages roll'd away, Then shall your high-aspiring colours find ?ame of her charms, augments her sexed pow'r,

The art to pidure thought and paint the wind: And her thought's lustre gives our wits their Then thall you give air shape, imprison space, sway.

And mount the painter to the maker's place.

From Whitehall Stairs, whence oft, with distant

view, No! thou best soul that e'er this body knew,

I've gaz'd whole moon-line hours on hours away, Inhappy I may be, but oot untrue.

Blest but to see those roofs which cover'd you, Blest, or unblett, my love can ne'er decay,

And watch'd beneath what Itar you neeping lay. Nor could I, where I could not love, betray.

Launch'd on the smiling ítream, which felt my Cold, and unjust, the shocking caution kills,

hope, And, in one meaning, spots me o'er with ills. And danc'd and quiver'd round my gliding boat, Silent, as sacred lamps, in bury'd urns,

I came this day to give my tongue free scope, The conscious flame of lovers inward burns :

And vent the paflion which my looks denote. Life should be torn, and racks be stretch'd in vain,

To tell my dear, my soul disturbing muse, And vary'd tortures tire their fruitless pain, Ere but a thoughe of mine should do thee wrong,

(But that's a name can speak but half her charms)

How my full heart does my pen's aid refuse, Or spread thy beauties on the public tongue.

And bids my voice describe my soul's alarms. Yet thou canst fear me-oh! be lost the shame, Nor beap dishonour on my future name!

To tell what transports your last letter gave, Have I been never lov'd ?-yet, cruel, tell, What heav'ns were opened in your lost complaint; Whom I betray'd to thee, though lov'd so well? To tell :---what pride I cake, to be your Dave, Take thy sweet mischief back, their charms erase, And how triumphant love disdains restraint. Oh! leave me poor, but never think me base. But when I miss'd you, and cook boat again, Not e'en when death shall veil thy llarry eyes,

The sympathetic sun condold my woe; Shall thy dear letters from my alhes rise;

Drew in his beams, to mourn my pity'd pain Fix'd to näy heart, the grave shall give 'em room And bid the shadow'd stream benighted flow. To charm my waking foul in worlds to come.

Sudden, the weeping skies unfuic'd their store, While in my verle, with far more faint efiay,

And torrents of big cears unceasing shed; Thy wonders I to after times convey;

Sad I drove downward to a flooded shore, Tell thy vast heav'n of sweets, and fing thy name, Till, fir'd by thee, whole kingdoms catch thy flame. And, disappointed, hung my dripping head.

Landed at length, 1 sable coffee drink, EPITAPH ON SIR ISAAC NEWTON. And ill surrounded by a noisy tribe,

Scornful of what they do, or fay, or think, More than his name were less.—'Twould seem 1, rapt in your dear heav'n, my loss describe. to scar,

(here. He who increas'd heav'n's fame could want it

TO THE SAME. Yet when the suns he lighted up shall fade, Yfs---dow 'tis time to die.--despair comes on; And all the worlds he found are first decay'd; Who keeps the body when the soul is gooc?


She sets---fair light, that show'd me all my joy, Clay'd the fick reader from the work retires
And, like the sun's, her abfence mult deftroy. And e'er the writer dies his fame expires.
She, who once wept my fancy'd loss of breath,
Now, crimeless murd'rer! gives me real deach.

TO MRS. TT. Yet have a care, touch'd heart, nor figh one Where in this land (Alzira cry'd) thought,

Shall Indian virtues reit?
That Itains such goodness with a purpos'd faolt. Who will be here the itranger's guide,
Soft as ker tears, her gentle meanings move ;

And lead her to be blest?
Her foul sheds sweetness chough her look is love.

Seek, said the whispering muse, some fait
Her voice is music, tun'd to heav'n's low note;
Her touch bids transport, through cach art'ry, who does herself those virtues share

Of England's beauteous race ;

Which most Alzira grace.
Her step is dignity, hy pity check’d;
At once the fans desire and plants respect.

One who has taste as nobly strong,
Unconscious of her charms, she dreams of none,

And charms as fofily ficet, And doubling other's praises shuns her own.

Will guard her lister soul from wrong, Modeft in pow'r, as kneeling angels pray,

While graces graces meet. Noiseless as night's soft shade, though bright as I took the mufe's kind advice, day.

Look'd round the fair and bright, Wise unassumingly; ferenely deep,

And found Alzira, in a trice,
Easy as air, and innocent as sleep :

Was matchless T Li's right.
Blooming like beauty, when arlorn'd for fin;
Yet like the bud unblown all blush within.

A SONG. 0! 'tis impossible, to quit such bliss,

O Celia! be wary when Celadon fuet, Yer live superior to a loss like this!

These wits are the bane of your charms: Where will she next her thousand conquests make? Beauty play'd against reason will certainly lake, On what new climate will her sun-fhinc break?

Warring naked with robbers in arms. Where will the next (sweet talker of my care :) Teach our charm'd fex, to hope, to wish, to dare? | Young Damon, despis’d for his plainness of person

Has worth that a woman should prize; Far from her fruitless guardian's watchful eye,

He'll run the race out, though he heavily farting What may the hear! what answer: oh! i'll dic.

And distance the short-winded wise. Bless’d by her sight-time's race were one dort stage;

The fool is a saint in the temple of love,
She gone-o-one widow'd moment were an age.

And kneels all his life there to pray:
The wit but looks in, and makes hatte to remor

'Tis a stage he but takes in his way.

Clio! smiling, foul-invader!
Soft amuser of my days,

Sick of the worthless world, and courting ref, Be my silent passion's aider,

My sullen soul, with penlive weight oppret, Teach my tongue to speak thy praise.

Disturb’d and mournful fought the filent thade, Thou, like heroes, scarr'd all over,

And fed reflection in the breezy glade : Wanting room to suffer more ;

Stretch'd on the grassy margent of a brock, Pild with praise, can'st hear no lover

Whose murm'ring fellow thip my mind partock,

Adively idle I repining lay, Tell thee ought, untold before.

Gaz'd on the flood and figh'd the stream away, Truth, with modeft bounds contented, Rightly praising thee, must say,

Who knows, I cry'd, what course thou has to More than falsehood e'er invented,

pass, When she widest went aftray.

Swoet stream, that thou creep't foftly through the
How wilt thou flow !-- Anon, perhaps, flid hence,

Thy deep’ning channel fills fome moared fence, WRIT ON A BLANK LEAF OF AN OB

Hems in some farm, where homely ruftics meet, SCENE POEM.

And their sweet bread, prize of hard labour, ca: The sacred nine, first spread their golden wings,

Thence, through some lord's delightful garden, ied,

Thou may'st thy vegetative influence spread; In praise of virtue, heroes, and of kings : Chalte were their lays, and ev'ry verse design'd

Where, as through fragrant beds, thy purlings like,

The grateful flow'rs shall kiss 'em as they glice: To soften nature, and exalt the mind. Loosely the moderns live, and loosely wrire,

There, charm'd and ling'ring, thou may'd wih to

Itay, And woo their muse, as mistress, for delight.

And, hoarsely murm'ring, roll displeas'd away. Thick in their lays obscenities abound, As weeds (pring plenteous in the rankel ground; But while, with careless pace, thou journey'll All who write verse, to taint a guiltless heari,

flow, Are vile profaners of the facred artı

Oft halting to look back at this fair show,

cing go,

Some precipice, that in close ambush lies, There lives a charmer, whom divinely fir'd
Thy virgin current shall at once surprise,

E'en her whole fex's virtues have inspir'd; Cross whose broad shoulders thrown, and tum Where all that's manly joins with all that's sweet, bling o'er,

{roar. And in whose breath engross’d perfections meet; Thy frighted Atream fhall rush with unavailing | Her mind no conscious pride of merit faias; Next may thy flver current's brightness die, O'er her wide foul unsully'd reason reigns : And muddily some stagnate fen supply ;

Blind to her worth, he feels not her own flame, Where thadow'd reeds in thy flow stream shall Enriches merit, yet despises fame. shake,

(make: Her unaffected charms what words can paint ? And foods fly trembling from the gloom they she looks an angel, and the speaks a saint: Frighted, are glad to 'scape this horrid place, While sparkling gayness wantons in her eye, Thou may'st wind short, and new direct thy race, In her wife foul the laughing Cupids die. Through verdant meads, o'erjoy'd, may'it dan A thousand graces round her person play,

And all the muses mark her fancy's way: 'Till cattle lip thy whirpools, as they flow : To hear her speak, the soul with rapture fills, Thence, for protection of thy ruffled charms, Her looks alarm--but when the writes the kills Thou may'st rush swife to some great lover's arms; Rife, then, and meet her, as the this way strays, jome stately stream by keely courtship prest, And thy own wonder Mall outspeak my praise. And mark'd with wealth's proud furrows on his The goddess vanith'd to her native skies, breast :

(brace, and the recover'd shade unbarr'd my cyes; Grave Thames may next receive thy mix'd em I look'd, and lo! within the honour'd wood, and fam’d Augusta see thy fully'd face;

Lovely Cleora hid in bay leaves stood; from her wath'd foot thy scatter'd food may stray, Cleora—but her wonders to reveal, And to the swallowing ocean roll away :

Were to describe what I can only feel! Chere, wasted srcam, in wind-driv'n billows toft, Now reconcil'd to the funn'd world I'll live : Thy ofe-chang'd being shall be wholly loft. Her friendship-joys worth living for can give.

So, gentle brock, I cry'd, does human life, Midit endless changes, and in endless strife,

ON THE BIRTH-DAY OF MISS lide, with impatience, throngh unknown events,

CARE, be badilh'l far away-
Till nature asks repose and death confents.
Why then is such a life so much defir'd?

Fly, be gone, approach not here:

Mirth and joy demand this day, Ey what pursuits is vain ambition fir'd ? riendship is loft on earth ; love goes astray;

Happiest day of all the year! nd men, like beasts, each on the other prey: Summers three times sev'n have shone, v’n the soft sex their downy bosoms hide

All outshin'd by Delia's eyes : ich inward artifice or outward pride.

Winters three times sev'o are gone, eauty's spoild shafts no more the soul can hit,

All whose snows her breast supplies! ull'd by grofs folly or misguided wit.

Dance we then the cheerful round, othing is now worth wishing for on earth, Music might have stay'd away; nd death is grown a much less woe than birth.

She but fpeaking, organs sound : While thus I mourn'd---back roll'd th' astonish'd She but smiling, angels play. brook,

[shook ;

'Tis her birth-day-let it blaze ; ne trees bow'd down, the earth beneath me

Born to charm and form'd for bliss , I heav'n descended to the glowing ground,

Live the lov'd a world of days, od radiant terror dazzling Mone around :

Ev'ry day as bless'd as this, und with the strong refulgence, fix'd I lay o'd in brightness and o'erwhelm’d with day. Let her beauty not increase ; llen, a found broke out---impatient yonch,

Too, too strong, already there; tten and mark the voice of Sacred truth,

But let heav'n augment her peace, -us’d at that name, I would have bless'd my sight, 'Till she's happy as she's fair.

Itrove in vain to fem the tide of light;
El as I rais'd my eyes, their balls ftruck fire,

THE GLOVE. d wat'ry gushings wept the rath desire :

Tell me, fweet glove! what name the charmer = unseen phantom's voice, sudden and loud,

bears, tled the ear as thunder rends a cloud;

Whofe downy hand thy snowy cov'ring wears ? soft'ning more and more, grew sweet and

'Tis a dear name I am forbid to tell, kind,

But these diftinguith'd marks may paint her well : dy'd away like music in the wind :

She gently awful, winningly fevere, me, continues she, to bring thee peace,

Charms when she speaks, yet rather loves to hear; bid thy diffidence in friendship cease ;

Wife as a god; as fancy'd angels fair ; in to reconcile thee to mankind,

Lovely as light, and soft as upper air. -wing thy transports, and unclog thy mind;

Enough, sweet glove: by this plain pidure guide thy wand'ring choice, to find that joy

taught, ruft of which does thy fad hours employ:

-e, I find, is the dear name I fought.

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