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Till once, 'tis faid, when all were fir'd,
Fill'd with fury, rapt, inspir'd,
From the fupporting myrtles round,
They fnatch'd her inftruments of found:
And as they oft had heard apart
Sweet leffons of her forceful art,
Each (for Madness rul'd the hour)
Would prove his own expreffive power.

Firft, Fear, his hand, it's skill to try,
Amid the chords bewilder'd laid;
And back recoil'd, he knew not why,
E'en at the found himself had made.

Next, Anger rufh'd; his eyes on fire,
In lightnings own'd his fecret ftings:
In one rude clash he struck the lyre,
And swept with hurried hand the ftrings.

With woeful measures, wan Despair,
Low fullen founds his grief beguil’d:
A folemn, ftrange, and mingled air;
'Twas fad by fits, by starts 'twas wild.

But thou, O Hope, with eyes fo fair,
What was thy delighted measure?
Still it whisper'd promis'd pleasure,
And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail !
Still would her touch the ftrain prolong,
And from the rocks, the woods, the vale,
She call'd on Echo ftill thro' all the fong;
And where her fweeteft theme she chofe,

A föft refponfive voice was heard at every close,
And Hope, enchanted, smil'd, and wav'd her golden hair.

And longer had the fung-but, with a frown,

Revenge impatient rofe:

He threw his blood-ftain'd fword in thunder down;

And,

'Tis faid, and I believe the tale,
Thy humbleft reed could more prevail,
Had more of ftrength, diviner rage,
Than all which charms this laggard age;
E'en all at once together found
Cecilia's mingled world of found.—
O bid our vain endeavours cease!
Revive the just defigns of Greece!
Return in all thy fimple ftate!
Confirm the tales her fons relate!

GRESEST.

C

THE VISIONS OF FANCY.

IN FOUR ELEGIES.

BY DR. LANGHORNE.

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HILDREN of Fancy, whither are ye fled?
Where have ye borne those hope-enliven❜d hours,

That once with myrtle garlands bound my head,
That once beftrew'd my vernal path with flow'rs ?

In

yon fair vale, where blooms the beechen grove, Where winds the flow wave thro' the flow'ry plain, To thefe fond arms you led the tyrant Love,

With Fear, and Hope, and Folly, in his train.

My lyre, that, left at careless distance, hung
Light on fome pale branch of the ofier fhade,
To lays of am'rous blandifhment you ftrung,
And o'er my fleep the lulling mufick play'd.

• Reft,

Reft, gentle youth! while on the quiv'ring breeze Slides to thine ear this foftly breathing ftrain; • Sounds that move fmoother than the fteps of ease, • And pour oblivion in the ear of pain.

• In this fair vale eternal Spring fhall smile,

⚫ And Time unenvious crown each roseate hour; Eternal joy fhall ev'ry care beguile,

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Breathe in each gale, and bloom in ev'ry flow'r.

• This filver ftream, that down it's crystal way,
Frequent has led thy mufing fteps along,
Shall, ftill the fame, in funny mazes play,
• And with it's murmurs melodize thy fong.

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Unfading green shall these fair groves adorn ;

• Those living meads immortal flow'rs unfold ; In rofy fmiles shall rise each blushing morn, And ev'ry evening close in clouds of gold,

;

The tender loves that watch thy flumb'ring reft, And round thee flow'rs and balmy myrtles ftrew; • Shall charm, thro' all approaching life, thy breaft, • With joys for ever pure, for ever new.

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• The genial power that speeds the golden dart,

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Each charm of tender paffion fhall inspire; With fond affection fill the mutual heart,

• And feed the flame of ever-young Defire,

Come, gentle loves! your myrtle garlands bring;
The smiling bow'r with cluster'd roses spread;
Come, gentle airs! with incenfe-dropping wing,
The breathing sweets of vernal odour shed.

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Hark! as the ftrains of fwelling mufick rife,

• How the notes vibrate on the fav'ring gale! Aufpicious glories beam along the skies,

And pow'rs unseen, the happy moments hail!

• Extatick hours! fo ev'ry diftant day,

• Like this ferene, on downy wings shall move; < Rife crown'd with joys that triumph o'er decay, The faithful joys of Fancy and of Love.'

AN

ELEGY II.

ND were they vain, thofe foothing lays ye fung?
Children of Fancy! yes, your fong was vain;
On each foft air though rapt Attention hung,
And Silence liften'd on the fleeping plain.

The ftrains yet vibrate on my ravish'd ear,
And still to fmile the mimick beauties feem;
Though now the visionary scenes appear

Like the faint traces of a vanish'd dream,

Mirror of life! the glories thus depart

Of all that Youth and Love and Fancy frame; When painful Anguifh fpeeds the piercing dart, Or Envy blasts the blooming flow'rs of Fame,

Nurfe of wild wishes, and of fond defires,

The prophetess of Fortune, falfe and vain ; To fcenes where Peace in Ruin's arms expires, Fallacious Hope deludes her hapless train.

Go, Syren, gothy charms on others try ;
My beaten bark at length has reach'd the shore :
Yet on the rock my dropping garments lie;
And let me perish, if I trust thee more!

Come,

Come, gentle Quiet! long-neglected maid!

O come, and lead me to thy moffy cell!
There unregarded in the peaceful shade,
With calm Repose and Silence let me dwell,

Come, happier hours of fweet unanxious rest,

When all the struggling paffions shall fubfide; When Peace fhall clasp me to her plumy breast, And smooth my filent minutes as they glide.

But chief, thou goddefs of the thoughtless eye,
Whom never cares or paffions difcompose,

O, bleft Infenfibility, be nigh,

And with thy foothing hand my weary eyelids clofe!

Then fhall the cares of Love and Glory cease,
And all the fond anxieties of Fame;
Alike regardless in the arms of Peace,
If these extol, or those debase a name.

In Lyttelton, though all the Mufes praise,

His gen'rous praise fhall then delight no more; Nor the sweet magick of his tender lays,

Shall touch the bofom which it charm'd before.

Nor then, tho' Malice, with infidious guife

Of friendship, ope the unfufpecting breast; Nor then, tho' Envy broach her blackening lyes, Shall these deprive me of a moment's rest.

Oftate to be defir'd! when hoftile rage

Prevails in human more than favage haunts; When man with man eternal war will wage, And never yield that mercy which he wants.

When

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