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Had not their monarch, with a father's pride,
Rent from her lord th' înviolable bride;

Rafh to diffolve the contract seal'd above,
The folemn vows, and facred bonds of love.
Now, where his elves fo brightly danc'd the round,
No violet breathes, nor daify paints the ground;
His tow'rs and people fill one common grave,
A fhapeless ruin, and a barren cave.

Beneath huge hills of smoking piles he lay,
Stunn'd and confounded, a whole fummer's day.
At length awak'd, (for what can long reftrain
Unbody'd spirits!) but awak'd in pain :
And as he faw the defolated wood,

And the dark den where once his empire stood,
Grief chill'd his heart; to his half-open'd eyes,
In ev'ry oak a Neptune feem'd to rife.

He fled; and left, with all his trembling peers,

The long poffeffion of a thoufand years.

Thro' bush, thro' brake, thro' groves, and gloomy dales, Thro' dank and dry, o'er ftreams and flow'ry vales,

Direct they fled; but often look'd behind,

And stopp'd and started at each ruftling wind.
Wing'd with like fear, his abdicated bands
Difperfe and wander into diff'rent lands:
Part did beneath the Peak's deep caverns lie,
In filent glooms impervious to the sky ;
Part on fair Avon's margin feek repose,

Whose stream o'er Britain's midmost region flows,
Where formidable Neptune never came,
And feas and oceans are but known by fame;
Some to dark woods and fecret fhades retreat,
And some on mountains chufe their airy feat.
There haply by the ruddy damsel seen,

Or shepherd-boy, they featly foot the green,
While from their steps a circling verdure springs;
But fly from towns, and dread the courts of kings.

Mean

Meanwhile fad Kenna, loth to quit the grove,
Hung o'er the body of her breathless love;
Try'd ev'ry art (vain arts!) to change his doom,
And vow'd (vain vows !) to join him in the tomb.
What could fhe do; the Fates alike deny

The dead to live, or fairy forms to die.

An herb there grows, (the fame old Homer tells
Ulyffes bore to rival Circe's fpells ;)

It's root is ebon-black, but fends to light
A ftem that bends with flow'rets milky white;
Moly the plant, which gods and fairies know,
But fecret kept from mortal men below.
On his pale limbs it's virtuous juice the fhed,
And murmur'd myftick numbers o'er the dead;
When, lo! the little fhape; by magick pow'r,
Grew lefs and lefs, contracted to a flow'r ;
A flow'r, that firft in this fweet garden fmil'd,
To virgins facred, and the fnow-drop styl'd.

The new-born plant with sweet regret fhe view'd,
› Warm'd with her fighs, and with her tears bedew'd;
It's ripen'd feeds from bank to bank convey'd,
And with her lover whiten'd half the shade.

Thus, won from death, each spring the fees him grow,
And glories in the vegetable fnow;

Which now increas'd through wide Britannia's plains,

It's parent's warmth and spotlefs name retains;
First leader of the flow'ry race afpires,
And foremost catches the fun's genial fires;
Midft frofts and fnows triumphant dares appear,
Mingles the feafons, and leads on the year.

Deferted now of all the pigmy race,
Nor man nor fairy touch'd this guilty place.
In heaps on heaps, for many a rolling age,
It lay accurs'd, the mark of Neptune's rag;

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Till great Naffau recloth'd the defart shade,

Thence facred to Britannia's monarchs made.

'Twas then the green-rob'd nymph, fair Kenna, came,
(Kenna, that gave the neighb'ring town it's name)
Proud when the faw th' ennobled garden shine
With nymphs and heroes of her lover's line,
She vow'd to grace the mansions once her own,
And picture out in plants the fairy town.
To far-fam'd Wife her flight unfeen the fped,
And with gay profpects fill'd the craftsman's head;
Soft in his fancy drew a pleafing scheme,
And plann'd that landscape in a morning dream.
With the sweet view the fire of gardens fir'd,
Attempts the labour by the nymph inspir'd ;
The walls and streets in rows of yew defigns,
And forms the town in all it's ancient lines:
The corner trees he lifts more high in air,
And girds the palace with a verdant square;
Nor knows, while round he views the rifing fcenes,
He builds a city as he plants his greens.

With a fad pleasure the aërial maid

This image of her ancient realm furvey'd ;
How chang'd, how fall'n from it's primæval pride!
Yet here each moon, the hour her lover dy'd,
Each moon his folemn obfequies the pays,
And leads the dance beneath pale Cynthia's rays;
Pleas'd in these fhades to head her fairy train,
And grace the groves where Albion's kinfmen reign.

DEATH

DEATH AND THE DOCTOR.

CCASIONED BY A PHYSICIAN'S LAMPOONING A FRIEN OF THE AUTHOR.

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S Doctor mufing fat,

A Death faw, and came without delay:

Enters the room, begins the chat,

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With, Doctor, why fo thoughtful, pray?"

The doctor ftarted from his place,
But foon they more familiar grew:
And then he told his piteous cafe,
How trade was low, and friends were few.

< Away with fear!' the phantom said, As foon as he had heard his tale:

Take my advice, and mend your trade;

• We both are lofers if you fail.

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Go, write; your wit in fatire show-
No matter whether fmart or true;
Call ** names, the greatest foe
To dullness, folly, pride, and you.

Then copies spread (there lies the trick ;)
Among your friends befure you fend 'em:
For all who read will foon grow fick,

And when you're call'd upon, attend 'em.

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'Twas then, amid the vocal throng,
Whom nature wakes to mirth and love,
A blackbird rais'd his am'rous fong,
And thus it echo'd thro' the grove.

O faireft of the feather'd train!
For whom I fing, for whom I burn;

• Attend with pity to my strain,

And grant my love a kind return.

For fee, the wint'ry ftorms are flown,
And gentle zephyrs fan the air;
Let us the genial influence own,
Let us the vernal pastime share.

• The raven plumes his jetty wing, To please his croaking paramour ; The larks refponfive ditties fing,

And tell their paffion as they foar,

But trust me, love, the raven's wing
Is not to be compar'd with mine;
Nor can the lark fo fweetly fing

As I,,who ftrength with fweetness join.

O, let

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