Who oft, at ev'ning, fiould with tears relate
The murder'd friend, and poor Idalia's fate;
And oft, enquiring from their lovers, hear
How Crœfus mourn'd a twice-revolving year;
Then, rouz'd at Cyrus?' name, and glory's charms,
Shook off enervate grief, and shone again in arms.

LIFE.

L

AN ODE.

BY DR. HAWKESWORTH.

IFE! the dear, precarious boon!

Soon we lofe; alas, how foon !

Fleeting vifion, falsely gay!
Grafp'd in vain, it fades away;
Mixing with furrounding fhades,
Lovely vifion! how it fades!
Let the Mufe, in Fancy's glass,
Catch the phantoms as they pass.
See, they rife! a nymph behold,
Careless, wanton, young, and bold;
Mark her devious, hafty pace,
Antick drefs, and thoughtless face ;
Smiling cheeks, and roving eyes,
Causeless mirth, and vain furprize-
Tripping at her fide, a boy

Shares her wonder, and her joy:
This is Folly, Childhood's guide;
This is Childhood, at her fide.
What is he fucceeding now,
Myrtles blooming on his brow,
Bright and blushing, as the morn;
Not on earth a mortal born?

Shafts,

Shafts, to pierce the strong, I view ;
Wings, the flying to pursue:

Victim of his pow'r, behind

Stalks a flave of human kind,

Whose disdain of all the free,
Speaks his mind's captivity.

Love's the tyrant, Youth the slave;
Youth, in vain, is wife or brave:
Love, with conscious pride, defies
All the brave, and all the wise.
Who art thou, with anxious mien,
Stealing o'er the shifting scene?
Eyes, with tedious vigils red,
Sighs, by doubts and wifhes bred:
Cautious step, and glancing leer,
Speak thy woes, and speak thy fear.
Arm in arm, what wretch is he
Like thyself, who walks with thee?
Like thy own his fears and woes,
All thy pangs his bofom knows.
Well, too well! my boding breast
Knows the names your looks fuggeft;
Anxious, bufy, reftless pair!

Manhood, link'd by Fate to Care.

Wretched state! and yet 'tis dear.

Fancy, close the prospect here!
Clofe it, or recal the past,
Spare my eyes, my heart the laft.
Vain the wish! the last appears,
While I gaze, it swims in tears.
Age-my future self-I trace,
Moving flow with feeble pace;
Bending with difeafe and cares,
All the load of life he bears:
White his locks, his vifage wan,
Strength, and ease, and hope, are gone.

Death,

Thro' yo'n dark grove of mournful yews,

With folitary steps I mufe,

By thy direction led:

Here, cold to Pleafure's tempting forms,
Confociate with my fifter-worms,

And mingle with the dead.

Ye

Ye midnight horrors! awful gloom!
Ye filent regions of the tomb,

My future peaceful bed;

Here shall my weary eyes be clos'd,
And ev'ry forrow lie repos'd
In Death's refreshing shade.

Ye pale inhabitants of night,
Before my intellectual fight
In folemn pomp afcend':
O tell how trifling now appears
The train of idle hopes and fears
That varying life attend!

Ye faithlefs idols of our sense,

Here own how vain your fond pretence,

Ye empty names of joy!

Your tranfient forms like shadows pass,

Frail offspring of the magick glass,
Before the mental eye.

The dazzling colours, falfely bright,
Attract the gazing vulgar fight
With fuperficial state :

Thro' Reason's clearer opticks view'd,
How ftripp'd of all it's pomp, how rude
Appears the painted cheat.

Can wild Ambition's tyrant pow'r,
Or ill-got wealth's fuperfluous ftore,
The dread of death controul?

Can Pleasure's more bewitching charms
Avert or foothe the dire alarms

That shake the parting foul?

T

Religion!

When, funk by guilt in fad despair,
Repentance breathes her humble pray'r,
And owns thy threat'nings juft;
Thy voice the fhudd'ring fuppliant chears,
With mercy calms her torturing fears,
And lifts her from the dust.

Sublim'd by thee, the foul afpires
Beyond the range of low defires,
In nobler views elate:

Unmov'd her deftin'd change furveys,
And arm'd by Faith, intrepid pays
The univerfal debt.

In Death's foft flumber lull'd to reft,
She fleeps, by fmiling visions bless'd,

That gently whisper peace:
Till the last morn's fair opening ray
Unfolds the bright eternal day

Of active life and bliss.

DAMON