O goddess of the tearful eye,
The never-ceafing stream supply!
Let us with Retirement go
To charnels, and the house of woe;
O'er Friendship's hearfe low-drooping mourn,
Where the fickly tapers burn;
Where Death and nun-clad Sorrow dwell,
And nightly ring the folemn knell.
The gloom difpels, the charnel fmiles,
Light flashes thro' the vaulted aifles.
Blow filky foft, thou weftern gale,
O goddefs of the defart, hail!
She bursts from yon cliff-riven cave,
Infulted by the wint❜ry wave;
Her brow an ivy garland binds;
Her treffes wanton with the winds;
A lion's fpoils, without a zone,
Around her limbs are careless thrown;
Her right-hand wields a knotted mace,
Her eyes roll wild, aftride her pace;
Her left a magick mirror holds,
In which the oft herself beholds,
O goddess of the defart, hail!
And fofter blow, thou western gale!
Since in each fcheme of life I've fail'd,
And difappointment feems entail'd;
Since all on earth I valu'd moft,
My guide, my stay, my friend, is loft;
You, only you, can make me bless'd,
And hufh the tempeft in my breast.
Then gently deign to guide my feet
To your hermit-trodden feat;
Where I may live at laft my own,
Where I at laft may die unknown.'
3 K
I fpoke-fhe twin'd her magick ray,
And thus fhe faid, or feem'd to say,
Youth, you're mistaken, if you think to find
In fhades a medicine for a troubled mind;
Wan Grief will haunt you wherefoe'er you go,
Sigh in the breeze, and in the ftreamlet flow;
There pale Inaction pines his life away,
← And, fatiate, curfes the return of day;
There naked Frenzy, laughing wild with pain,
Or bares the blade, or plunges in the main:
There Superftition broods o'er all her fears,
And yells of dæmons in the zephyr hears.
But if a hermit you 're refolv'd to dwell
And bid to focial life a laft farewel;
'Tis impious!-
• God never made an independent man;
'Twould jarr the concord of his general plan.
See every part of that ftupendous whole,
"Whose body Nature is, and God the foul,"
To one great end, the general good, conspire:
From matter, brute, to man; to seraph, fire.
Should man through Nature folitary roam,
His will his fovereign, every where his home,
• What force would guard him from the lion's jaw?
What swiftnefs wing him from the panther's paw?
• Or, fhould Fate lead him to some safer shore,
Where panthers never prowl, nor lions roar; • Where liberal Nature all her charms bestows,
Suns fhine, birds fing, flowers bloom, and water flows;
Fool! doft thou think he'd revel on the store,
Abfolve the care of Heav'n, nor ask for more?
Tho' waters flow'd, flow'rs bloom'd, and Phœbus fhone,
He'd figh, he'd murmur, that he was alone!
For know, the Maker on the human breaft
A fenfe of kindred, country, man, impress'd;
* And focial life to better, aid, adorn, With proper faculties each mortal's born.
• Tho' Nature's works the ruling mind declare, * And well deferve Enquiry's serious care, The God (whate'er Misanthrophy may fay) Shines, beams in man, with most unclouded ray.
What boots it thee, to fly from pole to pole,
Hang o'er the fun, and with the planets roll ?
What boots, thro' space's farthest bourns to roam,
If thou, O man, a stranger art at home?
Then know thyfelf; the human mind furvey;
The use, the pleasure, will the toil repay.
Hence Inspiration plans his manner'd lays;
Hence Homer's crown; and, Shakespeare, hence thy bays. Hence he, the pride of Athens and the shame,
The best and wisest of mankind became:
* Nor ftudy only; practise what you know:
Your life, your knowledge, to mankind you owe.
• With Plato's olive-wreathe the bays entwine:
Those who in ftudy, fhould in practice shine.
Say, does the learned Lord of Hagley's fhade
Charm man fo much, by moffy fountains laid,
As when, arouz'd, he ftems Corruption's course,
And shakes the fenate with a Tully's force?
When Freedom gafp'd beneath a Cæfar's feet,
Then publick Virtue might to fhades retreat;
* But where the breathes, the leaft may useful be,
And Freedom, Britain, ftill belongs to thee.
Tho' man's ungrateful, or tho' Fortune frown,
Is the reward of worth a fong or crown?
Nor yet unrecompens'd are Virtue's pains,
Good Allen lives, and bounteous Brunfwick reigns.
On each condition difappointments wait,
Enter the hut, and force the guarded gate:
Nor dare repine, tho' early Friendship bleed,
• From love, the world, and all it's cares, he's freed. 3 K 2
But know, Adverfity's the child of God;
• Whom Heaven approves of most, most feel her rod. • When smooth old Ocean and each storm's afleep, Then Ignorance may plough the wat❜ry deep;
But when the dæmons of the tempest rave,
Skill muft conduct the veffel thro' the wave.
Sidney, what good man envies not thy blow?
• Who would not wish Anytus for a foe* ?
Intrepid Virtue triumphs over Fate;
The good can never be unfortunate.
And be this maxim graven in thy mind;
The height of virtue is to serve mankind.
But when old age has filver'd o'er thy head,
When memory fails, and all thy vigour's fled;
Then may'st thou seek the ftillness of retreat,
Then hear aloof the human tempest beat;
Then will I greet thee to my woodland cave,
Allay the pangs of age, and fmooth thy grave.'
N that foft feafon, when descending show'rs
Call forth the greens, and wake the rifing flow'rs; When op'ning buds falute the welcome day,
And earth relenting feels the genial ray;
As balmy fleep had charm'd my cares to rest,
And love itself was banifh'd from my breaft,
(What time the morn mysterious vifions brings,
While purer flumbers spread their golden wings)
* One of the accufers of Socrates.
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