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O Phæbus! would thy god head not refuse
| With deeper wrath thy victor lion roars, This humble incense, on thy altar laid;
| Wide o'er the subject world diffusing fear, Would thy propitious ear attend the Muse,
Whilst Gallia weeps her guilt, and peace iinplores; That suppliant now invokes thy certain aid; So Farth, transtix'd by fierce Minerva's spear, With Mantuan force I'd mount a stronger gale,
A gentler birth obedient did disclose, And sing the parent of her land, who strove
And sudden from the wound eternal olives rose. Texceed the transports of her people's zeal,
VIII. With acts of mercy, and majestic love;
When with establish'd freedom bless'd, By fate, to fix Britannia's empire, given
The globe to great Alcides bow'd,
Whose happy power reliev'd th' oppress'd
Prom lawless chains, and check'd the proud;
Mature in fame, the grateful gods
Receiv'd him to their bright abodes:
Where Hebe crown'd his blooming joys; The conquests by thy sword achiev'd;
Garlands the willing Muses wove, Quiet to Belgian states restor'd,
And each with emulation strive And Austrian crowns by thee retriev'd.
| T'adorn the Churchill of the skies. Imperious Leopold confess'd His boary majesty distress'd;
For Albion's chief, ye sacred Nine ! To arms, to arms, Bavaria calls,
Your harps with generous ardour string, Nor with less terrour shook his throne,
With Faine's iminortal trumpet join, Than when the rising crescent shone
And safe beneath his laurel sing : Malignant o'er his shatter'd walls.
When clad in vines the Seine shall glide,
And duteous in a smoother tide, The warrior led the Britons forth,
To British seas her tribute yield; On foreign fields to dare their fate,
Wakeful at Honour's shrine attend, Distinguish'd souls of shining worth,
And long with living beams defend
Prom night, the warrior's votive shield.
And, Woodstock, let his dome exalt thy fame, And mighty fury fill'd his breast:
Great o'er thy Norman ruins be restor'd; How like thyself, when to destroy
Thou that with pride dost Edward's! cradle claim, The Greeks thou didst thy darts employ,
Receive an equal hero for thy lord: Fierce with thy golden quiver drest !
Whilst every column, to record their toils,
Eternal monuments of conquest wears, Sudden, whilst banish'd from his native land,
And all thy walls are dress'd with mingled spoils, Red with dishonest wounds, Bavaria mourn'd,
Gather'd on fam'd Ramilia and Poictiers, The chief, at Gloriana's high command,
High on thy tower the grateful Aag display, Like a rous'd lion, to the Maes return'd;
Due to thy queen's reward, and Blenheiin's glorious With vengeful speed the British sword he drew,
LAMINTING THE DEATH OF THE LATk
MARQUIS OF BLANDFORD.
Ask not the cause why all the tuneful swains, And, whilst lamenting mothers fear,
Who us'd to fill the vales with tender strains, On high her signal torch displays;
In deep despair neglect the warbling recd, But when thy sword is sheath'u, agaia
And all their bleating flocks refuse to feed. Obsequious she receives thy chain,
Ask not why greens and Mowers so late appear And sinooths her violence of face,
To clothe the glebe, and deck the springing year; Parent of arms! for ever stand
Why sounds the lawn with loud laments and cries, With large increase of faine rever'd,
And swoin with tears to floods the rivulets rise:
The fair Florelio now has left the plain, Whilst arches to thy saving hand
And is the grief, who was the grace, of every Britisha On Danube's grateful banks are reard.
For thee, lov'd youth! on every vale and lawn, Eugene, inspir'd to war by thee,
The nymphs and all thy fellow-shepherds moan. Ausonia's weeping states to free, Swift on th' Imperial eagle fies;
The little birds now cease to sing and bore,
Silent they sit, and droop in every grose:
No mounting lark now warbles on the wag,
Nor linnets chirp to cheer the sullen Spring :
Only the mclancholy tutles coo,
And Philowel by night repeats her woe.
* The Black Prince.
O, charmer of the shades! the tale prolong, Thy head with thy own willow bouglis adorn,
And with thy tears supply the frugal urn.
The swains their sheep, the nymphs shall leave the Forgetting Tereus, make my sorrows thine.
lawn, Now the dear youth has left the lonely plain, And yearly on their banks renew their moan: And is the grief, who was the grace, of every British His mother, while they there lainent, shall be swain.
The queen of love, the lor'd Adonis lie:
For fresh in fragrant youth he left the plain, The image of so fair a face before.
And is the grief, who was the grace, of every British But now, ye streams, assist me whilst I mourn,
(side, Por never must the lovely swain return;
No more the nymphs, that o'er the brooks preAnd, as these flowing tears increase your tide, Dress their gay beauties by the crystal tide, 0, murinur for the shepherd, as ye glide:
Nor fly the wintry winds, nor scorching Sun, Be sure, ye rocks, while I my grief disclose, Now he, for whom they strove to charm is gone. Let your sad echoes lengthen out my woes : Oft they beneath their reedy coverts sigh’d, Ye breczes, bear the plaintive accent on,
And look'd, and long'd, and for Florelio dy'd. And, whispering, tell the floods Florelio's gone; Of him they sang, and with soft ditties strovc For ever gore, and left the lonely plain,
To soothe the pleasing agonies of love.
And cypress, twind with mournful willows, wear.
With sprigs of myrtle mix'd, and scattering cry, Preventing, by her baste, the summer-sun. “ So sweet and soft the shepherd was! so soon deBut now the flowers all pale and blighted lie,
creed to die!" . And in cold sweats of sickly mildew die.
There, fresh in dear remembrance of their woes, Nor can the bees suck from the shrivel'd blooms His name the young anemonies disclose ; Ethereal sweets, to store their golden combs. Nor strange they should a double grief avow, Oft on thy lips they would their labour leave, Then Venus wept, and Pastorella now. And swecter olours from thy mouth receive: Breathe soft, ye winds! long let them paint the Sweet as the breath of Flora, whin she lies
plain, In jasmine shades, and for young Zephyr sighs. Unhurt, untouch'd, by every passing swain. But now those lips are cold; rclentless Death And when, ye nymphs, to make the garlands gay, Hath chill'd their charms, and stopt thy balmy With which ye crown the mistress of the May, breath.
Ye shall these fowers to bind her temples take, Those eyes, where Cupid tipp'd his darts with fire, | O pluck them gently for Florelio's sake! And kindled in the coldest nymphs desire,
And when through Woodstock's green retreats ye Robb’d of their beams, in everlasting night
stray, Are clos'd, and give us woes as once delight: Or Althrop's flowery vales invite to play ; And thou, dear youth, hast left the lonely plain, O'er which young Pastorella's beauties bring And art the grief, who wert the grace, of every Bri. Elysium early, and improve the spring: tish swain.
When evening gales attentive silence keep, As in his bower the dying shepherd lay,
And Heaven its balmy dew begins to weep, The shepherd yet so young, and once so gay! By the soft fall of every warbling stream, The nymphs that swim the stream, and range the Sich your sad airs, and bless the shepherd's name: wood,
There to the tender lute attune your woe, And baunt the flowery meads, around him stood. While hyacinths and myrtles round ye grow. There tears down each fair cheek unbounded fell, So may Sylvanus ever 'tend your bowers, And as he gasp'd, they gave a sad farewell.
And Zephyr brush the mildew from the flowers ! “ Softly," they cry'd, “ as sleeping flowers are Bid all the swans froin Cam and Isis haste, clos'd
In the melodious choir to breathe their last. By night, be thy dear eyes by Death compos'd : O Colin, Colin, could I there complain A gentle fall may thy young beautics have, Like thee, when young Philisides was slain! And golden slumbers wait thee in the grave: Thou sweet frequenter of the Muses' stream! Yearly thy hearse with garlands we'll adorn, Why have I not thy voice, or thou my theme? And teach young nightingales for thee to mourn; Though weak my voice, though lowly be my lays, Bees love the blooms, the fiocks the bladed grain, They shall be sacred to the shepherd's praise : Nor less wert thou belov'd by every swain.
To him my voice, to him my lays, belong, Come, shepherds, come, perform the funeral due, And bright Myrtilla now must live unsung : For he was ever good and kind to you:
Even she, whose artless beauty bless'd me more On every smoothest beech, in every grove,
Than ever swain was bless'd by nymph before ; In weeping characters record your love."
While every tender sigh, to seal our bliss, And as in memory of Adonis slain,
Brought a kind vow, and every vow a kiss : When for the youth the Syrian maids complain, Fair, chaste, and kind, yet now no more can move, His river, to record the guilty day,
So much my grief is stronger than my love: With freshly bleeding purple stains the sea: Now the dear youth has left the lonely plain, Su thou, dear Cam, contribute to our woe,
And is the grief, who was the grace, of every British And bid thy stream in plaintive murmurs flow :
As when some cruel hind has borne away The shell of Aesh pollutes with sin The turtle's nest, and made the young his prey, Its gem, the soul, just enter' lin; Sad in her native grove she sits alone,
And, by transmitted vice defil'd, There hangs her wings, and murmurs out her moan; | The fiend commences with the child. So the bright shepherdess, who bore the boy,
In this dark region future fates are bred,
And mines of secret ruin laid :
Hot fevers here long kindling lie,
Prepard with flaming whips to rage, Nor froin the silent earth her eyes removes,
And lash on lingering Destiny : That, weeping, languish like a dying dove's.
Whene'er excess has tir'd our riper age, Not such her look (severe reverse of fate!)
Here brood in infancy the gout and stone, When little Loves in every dimple sate;
Fruits of our fathers' follies, nut our own. And all the Smiles delighted to resort
| Ev'n with our vourishment we death receive, On the calm Heaven of her soft checks to sport:
For here our guiltless inuthers give Soft as the clouds mild April evenings wear,
Poison for food when first we live. Which drop fresh flowrets on the youthful year.
| Hence noiso!ne humours sweat thro' every pore', The fountain's fall can't lull her wakeful woes,
Aud blot us with an undistinguish'd sore: Nor poppy-garlands give the nymph repose :
| Nor, mov'd with beanty, will the dire disease Through prickly brakes, and unfrequented groves,
Forbear on faultless forms to seize; O'er hills and dales, and craggy cliffs, she roves.
But vindicates the good, the gay, And when she spies, beneath some silent shade,
The wise, the young, its cominon prey. The daisies pr:-ss'd, where late his limbs were laid,
| Had all, conjoin d in one, had power to save, To the cold print there close shc joins her face, And all with gushing tears bedews the grass. [skies,
The Nuses had not wept o'er Blandford's grave. There with loud plaints she wounds the pitying
The spark of pure ethereal light “ And, oh! return, my lovely youth," she cries; That actuales this feeting frame, “ Return, Florelio, with thy wonted charms | Darts through the cloud of flesh a sickly name, Fill the s..ft circle of my longing arms.”_
and seems a glow-worm in a winter night. Cease, fair AMiction, cease! the lovely boy
But man would yet look wondrous wise, In Death's cold arms must pale and breathless lie. And equal chains of thought devise; The Fates can never change their first decree,
Intends his inind on mighty schemes, Or sure they would have chang'd this one for thee. Refutes, defines, confirins, declaims; Pan for his Syrinx nakes eternal moan,
And diagrams he draws, t'explain Ceres her daughter lost, and thou thy son.
The learn'd chimeras of his brain ; l'hy son for ever now has left the plain,
And, with imaginary wisdom proud, And is the grief, who was the grace, of every British Thinks on the goddess while he clips the cloud.
swain. Adieu, ye mossy caves, and shady groves,
Through Errour's mazy grore, with fruitless toil, Once happy scenes of our successful loves :
Perplex'd with puzzling doubts, we roam; Ye hungry herds, and bleating flocks, adicu!
False images our sight beguile, Flints be your beds, and browze the bitter yew.
But still we stumble through the gloom, Two lambs alone shall be my charge to feed,
And science seek, which still deludes the mind For yearly on his grave two lambs shall bleed.
Yet, more enamour'd with the race, This plelge of lasting love, dear shade, receive;
With disproportiou'd speed we urge the chase : Tis all, alas, a shepherd's love can give !
In vain! the various prey no bounds restrain; But grief from its own power will set me free,
Fleeting it only leaves, t' increase our pain, Will send me soon a willing ghost to thee:
A cold unsatisfying scent behind. Cropt in the Powery spring of youth, I'll go
Yet, gracious God! presumptuous man, With hasty joy to wait thy shade below:
With random guesses, makes pretence In ever-fragrant meads, and jasmine-bowers,
To sound thy searchless providence, We'll dwell, and all Elysium shall be ours.
From which he first began : Where citron groves ethereal odours breathe,
Like hooded hawks we blindly tower, And streams of flowing crystal purl beneath; | And circuinscribe, with fancy'd laws, thy power, Where all are ever young, and heavenly fair,
Thy will the rolling orbs obey,
The Moon, presiding o'er the sea,
Boldly runs counter to thy will;
Thy patient thunder he defies;
Lays down false principles, and moves W hat art thou, Life, whose stay we court?
By what his vicious choice approves ; What is thy rival Death we fear?
And, when he's vainly wicked, thinks he's wise, Since we're but fickle Fortune's sport,
Return, return, too long misled ! Why should we wish t' inhabit here,
With filial fear adore thy God: And think the race, we find so rough, too short?
Ere the vast deep of Heaven was spread, While in the womb we forming lie,
Or body first in space abode,
Glories ineffable adorn'd his head.
Unnumber'd seraphs round the burning throne, I “ How art thou with diminish'd glory fall'e Sung to th' incomprehensible Three-One:
From thy proud zenith, swift as meteors glide Yet then his clemency did please
Aslope a summer-eve! Of all the stars,
Titled the first and fairest, thou didst hope
To share divinity, or haply more,
Elated as supreme, when o'er the North
Thy bloody banncrs stream'd, to rightful hingg On the vast ocean of his wonders here,
Portending ruinous dowotall; wondrous low, We momentary bubbles ride,
Opprobrious and dete:terl, art thou thrown,
Disrob’d of all thy splendours : round thee stand Sunk in the parent food, we disappear :
The swarming populace, and with fix'd regard We, who so gaudy on the waters shone,
Eying thee, pale and breathless, spend their rage Proud, like the showery bow, with beauties not our
In taunting speech, and jovial ask their friends, own.
'Is this the Mighty, whese imperious yoke But, at the signal given, this earth and sca
We bore reluctant, who to desert wilds, Shall set their sleeping vassals free;
And haunts of savages, transform' the marts, And the belov'd of God,
And capital cities raz'd, pronouncing thrall
Or exile on the peerage? How becalın'd
The tyrant lies, whose nostrils us’d to breathe Though dry, shall blossom in the dust : Tempests of wrath, and shook establish'd thrones! Then, gladly bounding from their dark restraints,
“ In solemn state the bones of pious kings, The skeletons shall brighten into saints,
Gather'd to their great sires, are safe repos' And, from mortality refin'd, shall rise
Beneath the weeping vault: but thou, a branch To meet their Saviour coming in the skies : * Blasted and curs'd by Heaven, to dogs and fowls Instructed then by intuition, we
Art doom'd a banquet; mingling some reinains Shall the vain efforts of our wisdom see;
With criminals unabsolv'd; on all thy rate Shall then impartially confess
Transinitting guilt and rengeance. From thy domes Our demonstration was but guess;
Thy children skulk, erroneous and forlorn, That knowledge, which from human reason flows, Fearirg perdition, and for mercy sue, Unless Religion guide its course,
With eyes uplift, and tearful. Froin thy seed And Faith her steady mounds oppose,
The sceptre Heaven resumes, by thee usurp'd Is ignorance at best, and often worse.
By guile and force, and sway'd with lawless rage."
PART OF THE
VERSES ON THE UNION.
THE Gaul, intent on universal sway,
Sees his own subjects with constraint odey; Now has th’ Almighty Father, seated high And they who most his rising beams ador'd, In ambient glories, from the eternal throne Weep in their chains, and wish another lord. Vouchsaf'd compassion ; and th’affictive power But, if the Muse not uninspir'd presage, Has broke, whose iron sceptre long had bruis'd Justice shall triumph o'er oppressive rage: The groaning nations. Now returning Peace, His power shall be reclaim'd to rightful laws, Dove-ey'd, and rob'd in white, the blissful land And all, like Savoy, shall desert his cause. Deigns to re-visit; whilst beneath her steps
So when to distant vales an Eagle steers, The soil, with civil slaughter oft manur'd,
His fierceness not disarmd by length of years, Pours forth abundant olives. Their high tops From his stretch'd wing he sees the feathers iy, The cedars wave, exulting o'er thy fall,
Which bore him to his empire of the sky. Whose steel from the tall monarch of the grove Unlike, great queen, thy steps to deathless Fame; Sever'd the regal honours, and up tore,
O best, O greatest, of thy royal naine! The scions bloorning in the parent shade.
Thy Britons, fam'd for arts, in battle brave, When, vehicled in Aame, thou slow didst pass Ilave nothing now to censure, or to crave: Prone thro' the gates of Night,'the dreary realms / Ev'n Vice and factious Zeal are held in awe, With loud acclaim receiv'd thee. Tyrants old Thy court a temple, and thy life a law. (Gigantic forms, with human blood besmear'd) I When edg'd with terrours, by thy vengeful hand Rose from their thrones; for thrones they still | The sword is drawn to gore a guilty land ; possess,
(cry, | Thy mercy cures the wound thy justice gave, Thcir penance and their guilt: “ Art thou,” they | For 'tis thy lov'd prerogative to save: “O emulous of our crimes, here doom'd to reign And Victory, to grace thy triun ph, brings Associate of our woe? Nor com'st thou girt
Palıns in her hand, with healing in her wings With livery'd slaves, or bands of warrior-knights, But as mild Heaven on Eden's op'ning gems Which erst before thee stood, a flattering crowd, Bestow'd the balmiest dews, and brightest beains : Observant of thy brow ; nor bireling quires, So, whilst remotest climes tly influence share, Attempering to the harp their warbled airs,
Britain's the darlivg object of thy care : Thy panegyric chaunt; but, hush'd in death,
By thy wise councils, and resistless might, Like us thou ly'st unwept; a corse obscene
Abroad we conquer, and at home unite: With dust, and preying worins, bare and despoild | Before thou bid'st the distant battles cease, Of ill-got pomp. We hail thee our compeer! | Thy picty cements domestic p-ace; .
Impatient of delay to fix the state,
| Cupid, afficted at the change, Thy dove brings olive ere the waves abate
To beg her aid to Venus run; Hail, happy sister-lands! for ever prove
She heard the tale, nor thought it strange, Rivais alone ia loyalty and love;
But, siniling, thus advis'd her son : Kindled from Heaven, be your anspicious flame “ Pleasure grows languid with restraint, As lasting, and as bright, as Anna's fame!
'Tis Nature's privilege to roam : And thou, fair northern nymphs, partake our toil, If you'll not have your linnets faint, With us divide the danger, and the spoil:
Leave Hymen with his cage at home,' When thy brave sons, the friends of Mars avow'd, In steel around our Albion standards crowd; What wonders in the war shall now be shown By her, who single shook the Gallic throne!
OLIVIA. The day draws nigh, in which the warrior-queen | Olivia's lewd, but looks devout, Shall wave her union-crosses o'er the Seine :
And scripture-proofs she throws about, Rous'd with hervic warmth unfelt before,
When tirst you try to win her : Her lions with redoubled fury roar;
Pull your fob of guineas out; And urging on to fame, with joy behold
Fee Jenny first, and never doubt The woody walks, in which they rang'd of old.
To find the saint a sinner. ( Louis, long the terrour of thy arms Has aw'd the continent with dire alarms;
Baxter by day is her delight: Exulting in thy pride, with hope to see
No chocolate must come in sight Empins and states derive their power from thee;
Before two morning chapters : From Britain's equal hand the scale to wrest,
But, lest the spleen should spoil her quite, And reign without a rival o'er the west :
She takes a civil friend at night,
To raise her holy raptures.
At large her fiery tail display,
Encourag'd by the dark : By strange extremes of destiny decreed
And yet the sullen thing all day
Snug in the lonely thicket lay,
TO A LADY,
SITTING BEFORE HER GLASS,
In which his face Narcissus spy'd,
He for himself despair'd and dy'd:
Now, Chloris, can you safer see
Your own perfections here than he.
The lark before the mirror plays,
Which some deceitful swain has set, To fill his shrine with bleeding hearts.
Pleas'd with herself, she fondly stays
To die deluded in the net. His empire thus secur'd, he fies
Love may such frauds for you prepare, To sport amid th' Idalian grove ;
Yourself the captive, and the snare.
But, Chloris, whilst you there review
Those graces opening in their bloom, The god their grateful songs engage,
Think how discase and age pursue, To spread his nets which Venus wrought;
Your riper glories to consume. Whilst Hymen held the golden cage,
Then sighing you would wish your glass To keep secure the game they caught.
Could show to Chloris what she was. The warblers, brisk with genial flame,
Let Pride no more give Nature law, Swift from the myrtle shades repair;
But free the youth your power enslavas A willing captive each became,
Her forin, like yours, bright Cynthia saw, And sweetlier carol'd in the snare.
Reflected on the crystal waves; When Hymen had receiv'd the prey,
Yet priz'd not all her charms above To Cytherea's fane thev tiew;
The pleasure of Endymion's love. Regardless, while they wingid their way,
No longer let your glass supply How sullen all the songsters grew.
Too just an emlen of your breast, Alas! no sprightly note is heard,
Where oft to my deluded eye But each with silent srif consumes;
Love's image has appear'd imprest; Thongh to celestial fod pr. ferr'd,
But play'd so lightly on your mind, They pining droop their printed plumes. It left no lasting print behind.