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THE RIVER.

DORIS.

DAPHNE.

DAPHNE. Take all, and ease me of the pain.

Shall I return-orvo?

Charms yet unknown surround me;
DORIS.

Yet, Love, thou ne'er shalt wound me,
I would—but ah! 'twere now in vain.

No more alarm my breast. When I was a maiden of twenty,

Then let me haste to go And my charms and my lovers were plenty,

Ah no, my heart replies Ah! why did I ever say non

In tender heaving sighsNow the swains, though I court them, all-fly me, Ye Powers restore my rest. I sigh, but no lover comes nigh me;

APOL. O do not go Ye virgins, be waru'd by my woe!

DAPHI. Dost thou not know,
Ah! why did I ever say no ?

I'm of Diana's train?
DAPHNE.

Thy love forbear-
Poor Doris ! dry thy weeping eyes;

APOL. Thy scorn forbear

DAPH. I must not hcar: Dost thou repent thou once wert wise?

APOL. O stay and hear; Tender hearts to every passion

DAPH. Thy love ? is vain. Still thcir freedom would betray,

APOL. Thy flight But how całm is inclination,

[Erit Daphne pursued by Apollo. When our reason, bears the sway! Swains themselves, while they pursue us,

SCENE CHANGES TO
Often teach us to deny.
While we fly, they fondly woo us ;

Re-enter Daphne, looking back as affrighted. If we grow too fond, they fly.

DAPHNE.

He comes—the swift pursuer comes- where Yet might I see one courting swain,

Shall I escape his piercing sight, Though but to slight him once again!

Where hide me from the god of light?
But come-l'll amorous thoughts give o'er.

Ah! 'tis in vain-he's here.
DAPHXE.

(Daphne runs to the side of the river, and as 'Tis well to leave them at threescore.

she sings the following air is transformed Hasto then, and at th' appointed place,

into a laurel-tree.) See if the nymphs expect me for the chase.

[Exit Doris.

Father Peneus, hear me, aid me!

Let some sudden change invade me, (A symphony of intruments is heard, whilst Apollo Fix me rooted on thy shore.

descends in the chariot of the Sun; a crown of Cease, Apollo, to persuade me,
rays about his head, and his lyre in his hand.]

I am Daphne now no more.
DAPHNE

[Apollo enters at the latter end of the ait, What sounds celestial strike my ear!

and is met by Peneus. ] Why does the golden source of light

APOLLO. Pour out new day?--how wondrous bright !

O fatal flight!-O curst disdain! Some god descends to human sight;

O Peneus, how shall we our loss deplore;
I'm charm’d, yet aw'd with fear.

But see!
APOLLO.

The trembling branches yet her shape retain ! Daphne, on Phæbus fix thy eye,

Though Daphne lives a nymph no more, With meaner shapes deceiv'd no more!

She lives, fair verdant plant, in thee: Know, I thy beauteous form adore:

Henceforth be thou Apollo's tree, Wilt thou a god, a god that loves thee, ily?

And hear what honours to thy leaves remain. (Apollo strikes his lyre, and Daphne tums back

No thunder e'er shall blast thy boughs, as surprised at the sound.]

Preserv'd to grace Apollo's brows,

Kings, victors, poets, to adorn; Fairest mortal! stay and hear,

Oft in Britannia's isle thy prosperous green Tum thee, leave thy trembling fear!

Shall on the heads of her great chiefs be seen, Cannot Love with Music join'd

And by a Nassau, and a George, be worn.
Touch thy unrelenting mind?
Fairest mortal! stay and hear,
Turn thee, leave thy trembling fear.

Still Peneus, with a father's care,

Shall feed thee from his flowing urn Hark how the river-shores prolong

With verdure ever fresh and fair,
My soft complaints, and murmur to my song!

Nor this thy destin'd change shall mourn.
Thy father Peneus feels my pain;
See ! how his osiers gently bow,

CHORUS, OR DUETTO OP APOLLO AND PENEUS, And seem my secret soul to know

Nature alone can love inspire, DAPA. (aside.) Alas! my rash, my fatal vow!

Art is vain to move desir'. APOL. Wilt thou alone unmov'd remain?

If Nature once the fair incline,

To their own passion thry resigns (As Daphne is going out, she stops and sings Nature alone can love inspire, the following air.

Art is vain to move desire.

PENEUS.

THE SOCIETY OF

WALES.

CAMBRIA.

CAMBRIA.

CAMBRIA.
AN ODE

Nor yet, O Fame, dost thou display

All the triumphs of this day; FOR THE BIRTI-DAY OF HER ROYAL HIGHNESS THE

More wonders yet arise to sight:

See! o'er these rites what mighty power presides, PRINCESS OF WALES,

Behold, to thee his early steps he guides;
ST, DAVID'S DAY, THE FIRST OF MARCU, 1715-16. What noble ardour does his soul excite!

Henceforth, when to the listening Universe
SET TO MUSIC BY DR. PEPUSCII,

Thou numberist o'er my princes of renown,
AND PERFORMED AT THE ANNIVERSARY MEETING OP

The second hope of Britain's crown,
When my great Edward's deeds thou shalt rehearse,

And tell of Cressy's well-fought plain,
ANCIENT BRITONS,

Thy golden trumpet sound again!

The brave Augustus shall renew thy strain, ESTABLISHED IN HONOUR OF HER ROYAL HIGHNESS's And Oudenarda's fight immortalize the verse. BIRTH DAY, AND OF TIIE PRINCIPALITY OF WALES.

AIR, WITH A HARP. Salve lata dies ! meliorque revertere semper,

Heavenly Muses ! tune your lyres,
A populo rerum digna potente coli!

Far resounding;
Ovid.

Grace the hero's glorious namo.
See! the song new life inspires !

Every breast, with joy abounding,
ODE FOR TWO VOICES.

Seems to share the hero's flame.

FAME.
FIRST VOICE, FAME.

O thou, with every virtue orown'd,
SECOND VOICE, CAMBRIA, OR THE PRINCIPALITY OF

Britannia's father, and her king renown'd!

Thus in thy offspring greatly blest,

While, through th' extended royal line,
BOTH VOICES, WITH A TRUMPET.

Thou seest thy propagated lustre shine,
To joy, to triumphs, dedicate the day!

What secret raptures fill thy breast !
So smiles Apollo, doubly gay,

When, in the diamond, with full blaze,
Rise, goddess of immortal Fame,

He views his own paternal rays,
And, with thy trumpet's swelling sound,

And all his bright reflected day.
To all Britannia's realms around
The double festival proclaim.

Hail, source of blessings to our isle!
FAME.

While gioomy clouds shall take their flight, The goddess of immortal Fame

Shot through by thy victorious light,
Shall, with her trumpet's swelling sound, Propitious ever on thy Britons smile!
To all Britannia's realms around
The double festival proclaim.

To joy, to triumphs, dedicate the day.
BOTH VOICES.
O'er Cambria's distant hills let the loud notes re Rise, goddess of immortal Fame,
bound!

And, with thy trumpet's swelling sound,
Each British soul be rais'd, and every eye be gay!

To all Britannia's realms around, To joy, to triumphs, dedicate the day !

The double festival proclaim.

FAME.

The goddess of immortal Fame
Hail, Cambria ! long to Fame well known!
Thy patron-saint looks smiling down,

Shall, with her trumpet's swelling sound,

To all Britannia's realms around
Well pleas’d to see

The double festival proclaim.
This day, prolific of renown,
Increas'd in honours to himself, and thee:
See, Carolina's natal star arise,

O'er Cambria's distant hilis let the loud notes reAnd with new beams adorn thy azure skies!

bound! Though on her virtues I should ever dwell,

Each British soul be rais'd, and every eye be gay!
Fame cannot all her numerous virtues tell. To joy, to triumphs, dedicate the day.
Bright in herself, and in her offspring bright,
On Britain's throne she casts diffusive light;

Detraction from her presence flies;
And, while prorniscuous crowds in rapture gaze,

EXTRACT OF A LETTER
Ev'n tongues disloyal learn her praise,
And murmuring Envy sees her smile, and dies.

MR. HUGHES TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR
Happy morn' such gifts bestowing!

COWPER.
Britain's joys from thee are flowing ;
Ever thus auspicious shine!

"Tous little pocm was vrit by the acciden: Happy isle! such gifts possessing !

of having Horace for my companion in a confineBritain, ever own the blessing!

inent by sickness, and fancying I had discovered Carolina's charms are thine,

a new sense of one of his odus, for which I have

BOTH VOICES.

CAMBRIA.

FAME.

BOTH VOICES.

FROM

found your lordship’s great indulgence and parti- , Whether the Muse vouchsafe t inspire ality to me, the best exposition.

My breast with the celestial fire; “ Perhaps we never read with that attention, as Whether my verse be fill’d with flame, when we think we have found something applicable Or I deserve a poet's name, to ourselves. I am now grown fond enough of Let Fame be silent; only tell this sense to believe it the true one, and have drawn | That generous Cowper loves me well. two or three learned friends (to whom I have men- Through Britain's realms I shall be known tioned it) into my opinion.

" The ode, your lordship will see, is that in By Cowper's merit, not my own. which Horace feigns himself turned into a swan.

And when the tomb my dust shall hide, It passes (for aught I know universally) for a com

Stripp'd of a mortal's little pride, pliment on himself, and a mere enthusiastic rant

Vain pomp be spar'd, and every tear; of the poet in his own praise, like his Exegi mo

Let but some stone this sculpture bear: Dumentum, &c. I confess, I had often slightly

“ Here lies his clay, to earth consign'd, read it in that view, and have found every one í To whom great Cowper once was kind.” hare lately asked, deceived by the same opinion, which I cannot but think spoils the ode, and sinks it to nothing; I had almost said, turns the swan into a goose.

WHAT IS MAN? * The grammarians seem to have fallen into this mistake, by wholly overlooking the reason of his O son of man! O creature of a day! rapture, viz. its being addressed to Mæcenas; and Proud of vain wisdom, with false greatness gay! have prefaced it with this, and the like general lleir of thy father's vice, to whose bad store inscriptions—Vaticinatur carminum suorum im- Thy guilty days are spent in adding more ; mortalitatem, &c. which I think is not the sub- Thou propagated folly!--what in thee jert.

Could Heaven's Supreme, could perfect Wisdom see, “I am very happy in the occasion which showed To fix one glance of his regarding eye? it me in a quite different sense from what I had Why art thou chose the favourite of the sky? ever apprehended, till I had the honour to be While angels wonder at the mercy known, known to your lordship; I am sure a much more

And scarce the wretch himself the debt immense avantageous one to the poet, as well as more just

will own! to his great patron. If I have exceeded the liberty ef an imitator, in pursuing the same hint further, to make it less doubtful, yet his favourers will for

BOILEAU, give me, when I own, I have not on this occasion so much thought of emulating his poetry, as of rivaling his pride, by the ambition of being known POURQUOI ces elephans, ces armes, ce bagage, as, my lord,

Et ces vaisseaux tout prests à quitter le rivage ? your lordship's most obliged,

Disoit au roi Pyrrhus, un sage confident,
and devoted humble servant, Conseiller tres-sensé d'un roi tres-imprudent.

J. HUGHES. Je vais, lui dit ce prince, à Rome où l'on m'apelle

Quoi faire? L'assieger. L'enterprise est fort belle,

Et digne seulement d'Alexandre ou de vous,
ODE

Mais quand nous l'aurons prise, eh bien, que ferons-
Du reste des Latins la conqueste est facile. (nous ?

Sans doute, ils sont à nous : est-ce tout ? La Sicile
LORD CHANCELLOR COWPER.

Delà nous tend les bras, & bien-tost sans effort
Syracuse recoit nos vaisseaux dans son port.

En demeurés-vous là ? Dés que nous l'aurons prise, IN ALLUSION TO HORACE, LIB. II. ODE XX, Il ne faut qu'un bon vent & Carthage est conquise : I've rais'd, transported, chang'd all o'er!

Les chemins sont ouverts: qui peut nous arrester? Prepar'd, a towering swan, to soar

Je vous entens, seigneur, nous allons tout dompter ! Aloft: see, see the down arise,

Nous allons traverser les sables de Lybie; And clothe my back, and plume my thighs !

Asservir en passant l’Egypte, l'Arabie; My wings shoot forth, now will I try

Courir delà le Gange en de nouveaux païs; Nex tracks, and boldly mount the sky;

Faire trembler le Scythe aux bords du Tanais; Nor Envy, nor Ill-fortune's spite,

Et ranger sous nos loix tout ce vaste Hemisphere; Stall stop my course, or damp my flight.

Mais de retour enfin, que pretendez-vous faire?

Alors, cher Cincas, victorieux, contens, Shall I, obscure or disesteemid,

Nous pourrons rirc à l'aise, & prendre du bon temps. Of vulgar rank henceforth be deem'd ?

Hé, seigneur, des ce jo:ur, sans sortir de l'Fpire, Or rainly toil my name to save

Du matin jusqu'au soir qui vous défend de rire?
Froan dark oblivion and the grave?
No-he can never wholly die,
Separe of immortality,

FROM BOILEAU,
Whom Britain's Cowper condescends
To son, and numbers with his friends.
Tis done- 1 scorn mean honours now;

“What mean these clephants, arms, warlike store, No coumon wreath shall bind my brow.

And all these ships, prepar'd to leave the shore sro

DANS SA I. EPISTRE AU ROY.

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

ANNO MDCCXVII.

IN 1118 FIRST EPISTLE TO LEWIS XIV.

Thus Cyneas, faithful, old, experienc'd, wise, Begin, and Echo shall the song repeat ; Address'd king Pyrrhus ;--thus the king replies: While, skreen'd from August's feverish heat, 'Tis glory calls us hence; to Rome we go." Beneath this spreading elm I lie, “ For what?"_" To conquer.”—“Rome's a noble And view the yellow harvest far around, A prize for Alexander fit, or you:

[foe, The neighbouring fields with pienty crown'd, But, Rome reduc'd, what next, sir, will you do?”. And, over head, a fair unclouded sky. “ The rest of Italy my chains shall wear,"

The wood, the park's romantic scene, “ And is that all?"_" No, Sicily lies near;

The deer, that, innocent and gay, See how she stretches out her beauteous arms,

On the soft turf's perpetual green And tempts the victor with unguarded charms!

Pass all their lives in love and play, In Syracusa's port this fleet shall ride.”—

Are various objects of delight, 'Tis well-and there you will at last abide ?"

That sport with fancy, and invite “ No; that subdu'd, again'we'll hoist our sails,

Your aid, the pleasure to complete : And put to sea; and, blow but prosperous gales, Begin-and Echo shall the song repeat. Carthage must soon be ours, an casy prey,

Hark!--the kind inspiring powers The passage open : what obstructs our way?"

Answer from their secret bowers, Then, sir, your vast design I understand,

Propitious to my call! To conquer all the earth, cross seas and land,

They join their choral voices all, O'er Afric's spacious wilds your reign extend,

To charm my solitary hours. Beneath your sword make proud Arabia bend;

“ Listen,” they cry, " thou pensive swain! Then seek remoter worlds, where Ganges pours

Though much the tuneful sisters love His swelling stream; beyond Hydaspes' shores,

The fields, the park, the shady grove: Through Iudian realms to carry dire alarms,

The fields, and park, and shady grove, And make the hardy Scythian dread your arms.

The tuneful sisters now disdain, But say—this wondrous race of glory ron,

And choose to soothe thee with a sweeter strain : When we return, say, what shall then be done?”

Molinda's praises shall our skill employ, " Then, pleas'd, my friend, we'll spend the joyful Molinda, Nature's pride, and every Muse's joy! day

The Muses triumph'd at her birth, In full delight, and laugh our cares away."

When, first descending from her parent Skies, “ And why not now? Alas! sir, need we roam

This star of beauty shot to Earth. For this so far, or quit our native home?

Love saw the fires that darted from her eyes, No—let us now each valued hour employ,

He saw, and smil'd—the winged boy Nor, for the future, lose the present joy,"

Gave early omens of her conquering fame,

And to his mother lisp'd her name,

“ Molinda!”—Nature's pride, and every Muse's jog, AV IMAGE OF PLEASURE,

Say, beauteous Asted! has thy honour'd shade

Ever receiv'd that lovely maid?
Ye nymphs and Sylvan deities, confess

That'shining festal day of happiness !
SOLACE of life, my sweet companion, Lyre!

For if the lovely maid was here, On this fair poplar bough I'll hang thee high,

April himself, though in so fair a dress While the gay fields all soft delights inspire,

He clothes the meads, though his delicious shower And not one cloud deforms the smiling sky.

Awake the blossoms and the breathing flowers, While whispering gales, that court the leaves and And new-create the fragrant year; flowers,

April himself, or brighter May, Play thro'thy strings, and gently make them sound, Assisted by the god of day, Luxurious l'il dissolve the flowing hours

Never made your grove so gay, In balmy slumbers on the carpet ground.

Or half so full of charms appear.

Whatever rural seat she now doth grace, But see--what sudden gloom obscures the air!

And shines a goddess of the plains, What falling showers, impetuous, change the day! Let's rise, my Lyre—Ah, Pleasure, false as fair! Imperial Love new triumphs there ordains,

Removes with her from place to place, How faithless are thy charms, how short thy stay!

With her he keeps his court, and where she liver

he reigns.
A thousand bright attendants more
Her glorious equipage compose :

There circling Pleasure ever flows:
ODE IN THE PARK AT ASTED.

Friendship, and Arts, a well-selected store,

Good-humour, Wit, and Music's soft delight, Ye.Musas, that frequent these walks and shades,

The shorten'd minutes there beguile,
The seat of calm repose,

And sparkling Mirth, that never looks so bright, Which Howard's happy genius chose;

As when it lightens in Molinda's smile.
Where, taught by you, his lyre he strung,
And oft, like Philomel, in dusky glades,

Thither, ye guardian powers (if such there are, Sweet amorous voluntaries sung!

Deputed from the sky O say, ye kind inspiring powers !

To watch o'er human-kind with friendly care), With what melodious strain

Tbither, ye gentle spirits, fly! Will you indulge my pensive vein,

If goodness, like your own, can move And charm my solitary hours?

Your constant zeal, your tenderest love,

IN IMITATION OF AN ODE IN CASIMIRE,

AN

For ever wait on this accomplish'd fair! The watery world beheld, with pic.us'd surprise. Shield her from every ruder breath of air, O'er its wide waste new tracks of light arise; Nor let invading Sickness come

The winds were hush'd, the floods forgot to move, To blast those beauties in their bloom. And Nature own'd the auspicious queen of love. May no misguided choice, no hapless doom, Disturb the heaven of her fair life

Henceforth no more the Cyprinn isle be nam'd, With clouds of grief, or showers of melting tears;

Though for th' abode of that bright goddess fam'd; Iet harsh Unkindness, and ungenerous Strife,

Jamaica's happier groves, conceal'd so long Repining Discontent, and boding Fears,

Through ages past, are now the poets song. With every sbape of woe, be driven away,

The Graces there, and Virtues, fix their throne; Like ghosts prohibited the day.

Urania makes th' adopted land her own.
Let Peace o'er her his dovelike wings display, The Muse, with her in thought transported, sees
And smiling joys crown all her blissful years! The opening scene, the bloomy plants and trees,

By brighter skies rais'd to a nobler birth,
And fruits deny'd to Europe's colder earth.

At her approach, like courtiers doubly gay
TO MR. CONSTANTINE,

To grace the pomp of some lov'd prince's day,

The gladden'd soil in all its plenty shines,
ON HIS PAINTINOS.

New spreads its branching palms, and new adorns While o'er the cloth thy happy pencil strays,

its pinçs; And the pleas'd eye its artful course surveys, With gifts prepares the shining guest to meet, Behold the magic power of shade and light ! And pours its verdant ofierings at her feet. A new creation opens to our sight.

As in the fields with pleasure she appears, Here tufted groves rise boldly to the sky,

Smiles on the labourers, and their labours cheers, There spacious lawns, more distant, charm the eye; / The luscious canes with sweeter juices ffow, The crystal lakes in borrow'd tinctures shine, The melons ripen, and the citrons blow, And misty hills the fair horizon join,

The golden orange takes a richer dye, Lost in the azure borders of the day,

And slaves forget their toil, while she is by. Like sounds remote, that die in air away.

Not Ceres' self more blessings could display, The peopled prospect various pleasure yields, When thro' the Earth she took her wandering way, Sherp grace the hills, and herds or swains the fields; | Far from her native coast, and all around Harmonious order o'er the whole presides, Diffus'd ripe harvests through the tecining ground. And Nature crowns the work, which Judgment

Mean while our drooping vales, deserted, mourn, guides.

Till happy years bring on her wish'd return;
Nor with less skill display'd by thee appear New honours then, Urania, shall be thine,
The different products of the fertile year;

Aud Britain shall again the world outshine.
While fruits with imitated ripeness glow,
And sudden flowers beneath thy pencil blow.

So when, of late, our Sun was veil'd from sight.

In dark eclipse, and lost in sudden night,
Soch, and so various, thy extensive hand,
Oft in suspense the pleas'd specators stand,

A shivering cold each heart with horrour thrillid,

The birds forsook the skies, the herds the field; Doubtful to choose, and fearing still to err, When to thyself they would thyself prefer.

But when the conquering orb, with one bright ray, So when the rival gods at Athens strove,

Broke thro' the gloom, and reinthron’d the day,

The herds reviv'd, the birds renew'd their strains, By wondrous works, their power divine to prove, As Neptune's trident strook the teeming earth,

Unusual transports rais'd the cheerful swains, Here the proud horse upstarted to his birth;

And joy, returning, echo'd through the plaius And there, as Pallas bless'd the fruitful scene, The spreading olive rear'd its stately green; In dumb surprise the gazing crowds were lost, Nar knew on which to fix their wonder most.

SUPPLEMENT AND CONCLUSION

TO MR. MILTON'S INCOMPARABLE POEM,
TO URANIA,

ENTITLED,
ON HER ARRIVAL AT JAMAICA.

IL PENSEROSO, OR THE PENSIVE MAN,
Terorge yielding waves the vessel swiftly flies,
That bears Urania from oor eager eyes ;
Deaf to our call, the billows waft her o'er,

It seems necessary to quote the eight foregoing lines With speed obsequious, to a distant shore:

for the right understanding of it. A prize more rich than Spain's whole fleets could

And may, at last, my weary age From fam'd Peru, or Chili's golden coast! [boast There the glad natives, on the crowded strand,

Find out the peaceful hermitage, With wonder see the matchless stranger land;

The hairy gown, and mossy cell, Transplanted glories in her features smile,

Where I may sit, and rightly spell And a new dawn of beauty gilds their isle.

Of every star that Heaven doth shew,

And every herb that sips the dew;
So from the sea, when Venus rose serene, Till old Experience do attain
And by the Nymphs and Tritons first was scen, To something like prophetic strain,"

THE FOLLOWING

WAS ALSO WRIT BY MR. HUGUES,

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