And fee the heavens to weep in dew prepare, And heavy mifts obfcure the burden'd air: A fudden damp o'er all the plain is spread, Each lily folds its leaves, and hangs its head. On every tree the bloffoms turn to tears, And every bough a weeping moisture bears. Their wings the feather'd airy people droop, And flocks beneath their dewy fleeces ftoop. The rocks are cleft, and new-defcending rills Furrow the brows of all th' impending hills. The water-gods to floods their rivulets turn, And each, with ftreaming eyes, fupplies his wanting urn. The Fawns forfake the woods, the Nymphs the grove, And round the plain in fad distractions rove; In prickly brakes their tender limbs they tear, And leave on thorns their locks of golden hair.

With their fharp nails, themfelves the Satyrs wound, And tug their fhaggy beards, and bite with grief the ground.

Lo Pan himself beneath a blasted oak
Dejected lies, his pipe in pieces broke.
See Pales weeping too, in wild despair,
And to the piercing winds her bofom bare.
And fee yon fading myrtle, where appears
The queen of love, all bath'd in flowing tears;
See how the wrings her hands, and beats her breast,
And tears her ufelefs girdle from her waift:

Hear the fad murmers of her fighing doves,

For grief they figh, forgetful of their loves.

Lo,

Lo, Love himself, with heavy woes opprest! See how his forrows fwell his tender breaft;

His bow he breaks, and wide his arrows flings,

And folds his little arms, and hangs his drooping wings;
Then, lays his limbs upon the dying grafs,

And all with tears bedews his beauteous face,
With tears, which from his folded lids arife,
And even Love himself has weeping eyes.
All nature mourns; the floods and rocks deplore,
And cry with me, "Paftora is no more!"

I mourn Paftora dead; let Albion mourn,

And fable clouds her chalky cliffs adorn.
The rocks can melt, and air in mifts can mourn,
And floods can weep, and winds to fighs can turn;
The birds, in fongs, their forrows can difclofe,
And nymphs and fwains, in words, can tell their wocs.
But, oh! behold that deep and wild despair,
Which neither winds can fhew, nor floods, nor air.
See the great fhepherd, chief of all the fwains,
Lord of these woods and wide-extended plains,
Stretch'd on the ground, and close to earth his face,
Scalding with tears th' already-faded grafs ;
To the cold clay he joins his throbbing breast,
No more within Paftora's arms to reft!

No more! For thofe once foft and circling arms
Themselves are clay, and cold are all her charms.
Cold are thofe lips, which he no more must kifs,
And cold that bosom, once all downy bliss;
On whofe foft pillows, lull'd in fweet delights,
He us'd, in balmy fleep, to lose the nights.

Ah!

Ah! where is all that love and fondnefs fled?
Ah! where is all that tender fweetnefs laid?
To duft must all that heaven of beauty come!
And muft Paftora moulder in the tomb!
Ah, death! more fierce and unrelenting far,
Than wildeft wolves or favage tigers are;
With lambs and fheep their hungers are appeas'd,
But ravencus death the fhepherdefs has feiz'd.

I mourn Paftora dead; let Albion mourn, And fable clouds her chalky cliffs adorn. "But fee, Menalcas, where a fudden light, "With wonder ftops my fong, and strikes my fight! "And where Paftora lies, it spreads around,

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Shewing all radiant bright the facred ground. "While from her tomb, behold, a flame afcends "Of whiteft fire, whofe flight to heaven extends! "On flaking wings it mounts, and quick as fight "Cuts through the yielding air with rays of light; "Till the blue firmament at last it gains,

"And, fixing there, a glorious ftar remains :" Fairest it fhines of all that light the fkies,

As once on earth were seen Pastora's eyes.

ΤΟ

TO THE KING,

ON THE TAKING OF NAMUR.

IRREGULAR

ODE.

"Præfenti tibi maturos largimur honores :
"Nil oriturum aliàs, nil ortum tale fatentes."
Hor. ad Auguftum,

I.

F arms and war my Muse aspires to fing,

OF

And ftrike the lyre upon an untry'd string: New fire informs my soul, unfelt before; And, on new wings, to heights unknowm I foar. O power unfeen! by whose resistless force Compell'd, I take this flight, direct my course: For Fancy wild and pathless ways will chufe, Which Judgment rarely, or with pain, pursues: Say, facred nymph, whence this great change proceeds; Why fcorns the lowly fwain his oaten reeds, Daring aloud to strike the founding lyre, And fing heroic deeds;

Neglecting flames of love, for martial fire ?

II.

William, alone, my feeble voice can raise;
What voice fo weak, that cannot fing his praise !
The listening world each whisper will befriend
That breathes his name, and every ear attend.

The

The hovering winds on downy wings fhall wait around,
And catch, and waft to foreign lands, the flying found.
Ev'n I will in his praise be heard ;

For by his name my verfe fhall be preferr'd.
Borne like a lark upon this eagle's wing,

High as the spheres, I will his triumph fing;

High as the head of Fame; Fame, whofe exalted fize
From the deep vale extends up to the vaulted skies :
A thousand talking tongues the monster bears,
A thousand waking eyes, and ever-open ears;
Hourly the stalks, with huge gigantic pace,
Measuring the globe, like time, with conftant race:
Yet fhall fhe ftay, and bend to William's praise :
Of him, her thousand cars fhall hear triumphant lays,
Of him her tongue fhall talk, on him her eyes fhall gaze.
III.

But lo, a change astonishing my eyes!

And all around, behold new objects rife!
What forms are these I fee? and whence ?
Beings fubftantial? or does air condenfe,
To clothe in vifionary shape my various thought?
Are thefe by fancy wrought!

Can ftrong ideas strike fo deep the fenfe!

O facred poefy! O boundless power!

What wonders doft thou trace, what hidden worlds explore!

Through feas, earth, air, and the wide-circling sky, What is not fought and feen by thy all-piercing eye!