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And nature, by the unknown law,
While down her neck her vagrant treffes flow, Shook deep with reverential awe;
In all the awful negligence of woe; Dumb Glence grew upon the hour ;
Her urn sustain'd her arm, that sculptur'd vase A browner night involv'd the bow'r:
Where Vulcan's art had lavith'd all his grace. When issuing from the inmost wood,
Here, full with life, was heaven-taught Science Appear'd fair Freedom's Genius good,
seen, O Freedom! sov'reign boon of Heaven, Known by the laurel wreath and musing mien; Great Charter with our being giv'n;
There cloud-crown'd Fame, here Peace fedate For which the patriot and the faze
and bland, Have plann’d, have bled, thro' ev'ry age! Swelld the loud trump, and wav'd the olive wand; High privilege of human race,
While solemn domes, arch'd shades, and visas Beyond a mortal monarch's grace:
green, Who could not gire, who cannot claim, At well-mark'd distance close the sacred scene. What but from God immediate came!
On this the goddets cast an anxious lock, Then dropt a tender tear, and thus the spoke : Yes, I could once with plcas'd attention trace
The mimic chai ms of this prophetic vale; $ 110. Ode to Eve::ing. Dr. Jos. W'ARTON. Then lift my head, and with enraptur'd eyes Hall, meck-eyed Maiden, clad in sober grey, View on yon plain the real glories rifc
. Whose fuft approuch the weary woodman Yes, 111! (ft haft thou rejoic'd' to Icad loves;
Thy liquid treatures o'er yon fav'rite mcad; As homeward bent to kiss his prattling babes
Oft hait thou stopt thy pearly car to gaze, Jocund he whistics through the twilight groves. While ev'ry Science nurs'd its griwing bays;
While ev'ry Youth, with fame's strong impulse When Phoebus sinks behind the gilded hills,
Prei'd to the goal, and at the goal untir'd (hr’d, You lightly o'er the mi-ty meadows walk;
Snatch'd each celestial wreath, to bind his brow, The drooping daifies bathe in dulcet dews,
The Mutes, Graces, Virtues could bestow. And nurse the nodding violet's tender stalk.
E'en now fond Fancy leads th’ideal train, The panring Dryads, that in day's fierce hcat And ranks her troops on Memory's ample plain; To inmost bow'rs and cooling caverns ran, See! the firm leaders of my pa riot line, Return to trip in wanton ev'ning danct.;
Sce! Sidney, Raleigh, Hampden, Somers shine. Old Sylvan too returns, and laughing Pan. See Hough, superior to a tyrant's doom, To the decp wood the clamorous rooks repair,
Smile at the menace of the slave of Rome: Light skims the swallow o'er the wat’ry Icene;
Each foul whom truth,could fire, or virtue move, And from the theep-cote, and fresh-furrow'd field, Each breast strong panting with its country's love, Stout plougimen meet to wrestle on the green.
All that to Albion gave their heart or head,
That wisely counsell'd, or that bravely bled, The swain, that artless fings on yonder rock, His fupping Thtep and length’ning lhadow fpics, The well-carn’d prize of eiery virtuous toil
All, all appear; on me they grateful linile, Pleas'd with the cool, the calm refrething hour, To me with hlial reverence they bring, And with hoarte huiming of unnumber d fies. And hang freth trophies o'er my honour'd spring. Now ev'ry Paffion Nceps : desponding Love, Ah! I remember well yon becchen spray, And pining Envy, cver-restlels Pride;
There Addison first tun'd his polith'd lay; And holy Calm creeps o'er my peaceful soul, 'Twas there great Cato's form first met his eye, Anger and mad Ambition's storms subside. In all the pomp of frec-born majesty; [awe, O modest Evening ! oft let me appear
My son,” he cried, “ observe this micn with
" In folemn lines the strong resemblance draw; A wandering votary in thy pentive train ;
“ The piercing notes thall strike each British ear; List’ning to every wildly-svaruling note
“ Each British cyc hall drop the patriot tear! That fills with farewel sweet thy darkening plain.
“ And, rous'd to glory by the nervous strain,
“ Shall guard with Cato's zeal Britannia's laws, § 111. Isis. An Elegy. By Mr. Mason of Cambridge.
“ And speak, and act, and bleed, in freedom's
6* cause.” FAR from her hallow'd grot, where mildly The Hero spoke; the bard affenting bow'd; bright
The lay to Liberty and Cato flow'd; The pointed cryftals shot their trembling light, Whilc Echo, as the rov'd the vale along, From dripping moss where sparkling dew-drops Join'd the strong cadence of his Roman song, fell,
[Thell, But, ah! how Stillness slept upon the ground, Where coral glow'd, where twin'd the wrcathcd How mute attention check'd each rising found, Pale Isis lay; a willow's lowly shade
Scarce sole a breeze to wave the leafy spray, Spread its thin foliage o'er the sleeping maid ; Scarce trill'd sweet Philomel her foftett lay, Clos'd was her eye, and from her heaving breast When Locke walk'd musing forth! e'en now I La carcless folds loose flow'd her zonelcis veft; Majestic Wisdom thron’d upon his brow; [view
View Candour smile upon his modest cheek,
§ 112. Epißolary Verses to George Colman, Esg. And from his eye all Judgment's radiance break.
written in ibe Year 1756. By Mr. ROBERT 'Twas here the sage his manly zcal expreís'd,
LLOYD. Here stript vain Falschood of her gaudy vett; Here Truth's coll: Eted beams fitt filled his mind, You know, dear George, I'm none of those Ere long to burst in bleffings on mankind;
That condescend to write in prose: Ere long to thew to reaton's purged eye, Inspir'd with pathos and fublimc, That “Nature's first best gitt was Liberty.” I always foar-in doggrel rhyme;
Proud of this wondrous Ton, sublime I stood And scarce can ask you how you do, (While louder surges livell d my rapid food); Without a jingling line or two. Then, vain as Niobe, exulting cried,
Befides, I always took delight in
What bears the name of caly writing;
I vent a notion here in private,
Which public taste can ne'er connive at,
But that he says it I can swear)
: Whereas, the easier it appears,
The fam'd Mat. Prior, it is said,
The better fit the more they're tried. Sworn foes like them to all the Muse approves, Though I have mention d Prior's name, All Phæbus favours, or Minerva loves.
Think not I aim at Prior's fame.
That I'm idolater of Ease.
Who but a madman would engage Forbid it, Heaven! and let my rising waves
A Poet in the present age?
Nil dictum, quod non dictum prius.
Ere Colman wrote in style so pure,
Ere I burlesqu’d the rural cit, Or on the Sage's or the Poet's tongue;
Proud to hedge in my scraps of wit; Calm and refign'd my humbler lot embrace, And, happy in the close connection, And, pleas’d, prefer oblivion to disgrace. T'acquire fome name from their reflection ;
G g 3
So (the fimilitude is trite)
“ Howe'er defunct you set him down,
§ 113. Ode to Artbur Onslow, Esq. +
And tcftifies the pure ethereal spirit, Presuming on good-nature's score,
As mild Benevolence ? Thus lay my bantling at your door.
She with her sister Mercy still awaits The first advantage which I fee,
Beside th'eternal throne of Jove, Is, that I ramble loose and free:
And measures forth with unwithdrawing hand The bard indeed full oft complains
The blessings of the various year, That rhymes are fetters, links, and chains;
Sunshine or show'r, and chides the madding And, when he wants to leap the fence,
tempeit. Still keeps him pris'ner to the fenfe.
With her the heaven-bred nymph, mcek Charity, Howe'er in common-place he rage,
Shall fashion Ontlow forth in fairest portrait; Rhyme’s like your fetters on the stage,
And with recording care Which when tne player once hath wore,
Weave the freth wrcathe that flow'ring virtue It makes lim only strut the more,
claims. While, raving in pathetic strains,
But, oh, what muse shall join the band ? He thakes his legs to clank his chains.
He long has fojourn'd in the sacred haunts, From rhyme, as from a handfone face,
And knows cach whisp'ring grot and Nonsense acquires a kind of grace ;
glade I therefore give it all its fcope,
Trod by Apollo, and the light-foot Graces. That sense may unperceiv'd clope.
How then shall aukward gratitude, So Mrs of bafert tricks
And the presumption of uncutor'd duty, (I love a fling at politics)
Attune my numbers, all too rude? Amuse the nation, court, and king,
Little he recks the meed of such a song; With breaking F-kes, and hanging Byng;
Yet will I stretch aloof, And makc cach puny rogue a prey,
And when I tell of Courtesy, While they, the greater, flink away,
Of well-attemper'd Zeal, This fimile perhaps would strike,
Of awful Prudence foothing full Contention, If match'd with something more alike;
Where shall the lineaments agree Then take it dress'd a second time
But in thee, Onslow? You your wonted leave In Prior's Ease, and my Sublime.
Indulge me, nor misdcem a soldier's bold cm. Say, did you never chance to meet
prize, A mob of people in the street,
Who in the dissonance of barb’rous war, Ready to give the robb'd relief,
Long train'd, revifits oft the sacred treasures And all in haste to catch a thief;
Of antique memory ; While the fly rogue, who filch'd the prey,
Or where fage Pindar reins his fiery car, Too close beset to run away,
Through the vast vault of Heaven fecure, Stop thief! stop thief! exclaims aloud,
Or what the Attic muse that Homer fill'd, And so escapes among the crowd?
Her other son, thy Milton taught, So Ministers, &c.
Or range the flow'ry fields of gentle Spenser. O England, how I mourn thy fate !
And, ever as I go, allurements vain For sure thy losses now are great;
Cherith a fecble fire, and feed my idle Tiro such what Briton can endure,
Fancy : oh could I once Minorca, and the Connoisseur!
Charm to their melody my thrilling reeds! To-day “, or c'er the sun goes down,
To Henries and to Edwards old, Will dic the Cenfor, Mr Town !
Dread names ! I'd meditate the faithful song; He dies, whoc'er takes pains to con him,
Or tell what time Britannia, With blushing honours thick upon him ;
Whilom the fairest daughter of old Ocean, O may his nainc these verses fave,
In loathly disarray, dull eyes, Be thiefe infcrib'd upon his grave!
And faded cheek, wept o'er her abject fons : “ Know, Reader, that on Thursday dicd,
Till William, great deliverer, “ The Connoiteur, a Suicide !
Led on the comcly train, gay Liberty, " Yet think not that his soul is fied,
Religion, matron staid, “ Nor rank him 'mongî the vulgar dead.
With all her kindred goddesses; Septemer 3cth, 1756, when Mr. Town, author of the Connoisseur, a periodical Essay (since published in four volumes, printed for R. Baldwin, London), took leave of his readers, with an humorous account of hin. felf.
+ This elegant Poem was written by a Gentleman well known in the learned world, as a token of gra. titude for favours conferred on his father during the last war, whose character he has therein allumed.
Justice with steady brow,
O lead my fteps beneath the moon's dim ray, Trim Plenty,laurcat Peace, and green-hair’dCom- Where Tadmor stands all desert and alone! merce,
Whilc from her time-shook tow'ss the bird of In Howing vest of thousand hues.
prey Fain would I ìhadow oui old Bourbon's pilo Sounds thro’the night her long-resounding moan. Tott'ring with doubtful weight, and threat'ning Or bear me far to yon dark dismal plain, cuib'rous fail;
Where fell-eyed tygers, all athirst for blood,
Howl to the defart; while the horrid train
That queen of nations! whose superior call Fraught with loud forms, and thunder's dread-Rous’d the broad Eaft, and bid her arins deftroy! ful peal,
When warm'd to mirth, Ict judgnientmark herfall,
And deep reflection dash the lip of joy.
Short is Ambition's gay deceitful dream;
Calm thought difpeis the visionary scheme,
And Time's cold breath ditfolves the withering
Shall found o'er Flandria's level field,
Slow as some miner saps th’aspiring tou’r,
When working secret with destructive aim,
Unseen, unheard, thus moves the stealing hour,
But works the full of cmpire, pomp, and name. The just memorial of fair deeds
Then lèt thy pencil mark the traits of man;
Full in the draught be keen-eyed Hope por-
Then give one touch, and dath it dcep with shade.
Bencath the plume that fames with glancing
Be Care's deep engines on the soul impressa;
Let Love's gay fons, a smiling train, appear,
With Beauty pierc'd-yet heedless of the dart;
Perch'd like a raven on some blasted yew,
Here wrapt in studious thought let Fancy rovc,
Still prompt to mark Suspicion's secret fnare ;
Or trace proud Grandeur to the domes of Care.
Tcach they the voice to pour a sweeter lay?
When bleeds the heart as Genius blooms un- O’er yon bleak desart's unfrequented round
Seeft thou where Nature treads the deep'ning
Hear'st thou the folemn music wind along?
Orthrills the warbling note in thy mellifluous song?
To trace serene the gloomy grove,
Or haunt meck Quiet's simple dome; Where the lone widow tells the night her pain, Still hovering round the Nine appear, And eve with dewy tears embalins the dead?
That pour the soul-transporting strain;
Join’d to the Loves' gay train,
of pow'r, How flam'd thy bofom as her charms reveal ! Can these bid Sorrow's gushing tears sublide?
Her fire-clad eye tublime, her starry zone, Can these avail in that tremendous hour,
Her treffus loose that wanton'd on the gale ; When Death's cold hand congeals the purple tide ? On thee the goddess fix'd her ardent lock, Ah no! the mighty names are heard no more :
Then from her glowing lips these melting accents
broke: Pride's thought lublime, and Beauty's kindling
bloom, Serve but to sport one flying moment o’er,
" To thee, my favourite son, belong And swell with pompous veise th' escutcheon'd
“ The lays that steal the listening hour;
“ To pour the rapture-darting tong, tomb.
“ To paint gay Hope's Elyfian bow'r. For me-may Passion ne'er my soul invade, “ From Nature's hand to inatch the dart, Nor be the whims of tow'ring Phrenzy giv’n; “ To cleave with pangs the bleeding heart; Let Wealth ne'er court me from the peaceful “ Or lightly sweep the trembling string, shade,
“ And call the Loves with purple wing, Where Contemplation wings the soul to Heaven! “ From the blue deep, where they dwell Oh guard me safe from Joy's enticing snare !
“ With Naiads in the pearly cell, With each extreme that Pleasure tries to hide,
“ Soft on the fea-born goddess gaze t; The poiton'd breath of flow-consuming Care,
“ Or in the loose robe's floating maze, The noise of Folly, and the dreams of Pride.
“ Diffolv'd in downy slumbers rest;
" Or flutter o'er her panting breast. But oft, when midnight's fadly folemn knell
“ Or wild to melt the yielding soul, Sounds long and distant from the sky-topt tow'r,
“ Let Sorrow, clad in lable stole, Calm let me sit in Prosper's lonely cell; 16 Slow to thy musing thought appear ; Or walk with Milton thro’ the dark obscure.
“ Or pensive Pity palc ; Thus, when the transient dream of life is Aed, “ Or Love's desponding tale
[tear." May fomc fad friend recal the former years; “ Call from th' intender'd heart the sympathetic Then, stretch'd in filence o'er my dusty bed,
II. 1. Pour the warm guth of sympathetic tears !
Say, whence the magic of thy mind?
Why thrills thy music on the springs of thoughts $ 115. Ode to the Genius of Sbakespeare. Why, at thy pencil's touch refin'd,
OGILVIE. Starts into life the glowing draught?
On yonder fairy carpet laid,
Where beauty pours eternal bloom, Say, bursts thy Genius to the world of light? And zephyr breathes perfume; Secks it yon ftar-bctpangled sky?
There nightly to the tranced eye
Profuse the radiant goddess stood display'd,
Sudden the mantling cliff, the arching wood,
The broider'd mead, the landskip, and the grove, Droops o'er the green-embroider'd stream; Hills, vales, and sky-dipt seas, and torrents rudc, Or where young Zephyr stirs the ruilling prays, Grots, rills, and shades, and bow'rs that breath'd Lies all dittolv in fairy dream.
* See Shakespeare's Tempeít.