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On the steep height waste and bare,
Stands the pow'r with hoary hair!
O'er his fcythe he bends; his hand
Slowly thakes the flowing fand,
While the hours, and airy ring,
Lightly fit with downy wing,

And fap the works of man; and shade
With filver'd locks his furrow'd head;
Thence rolls the mighty pow'r his broad furvey,
And feals the nations awful doom:
He fees proud grandeur's meteor ray;
He yield's to joy the feftive day;

Then fweeps the length'ning fhade, and marks them for the tomb.

OGILVIE.

$117. Ode to Evening. MEEK Pow'r, whofe balmy-pinion'd gale

Steals o'er the flow'r-enameli'd dale! Whofe voice in gentle whifpers near Oft fighs to Quict's lift'ning ear; As on her downy couch at reft, By Thought's infpiring vifions bleft She fits, with white-rob'd Silence nigh, And mufing heaves her ferious eye, To mark the flow fun's glin m'ring ray, To catch the last pale gleam of day; Or funk in fweet repofe, unknown Lies on the wild hill's van alone; And fees thy gradual pencil flow Along the heaven-illumin'd bow.

;

Come, Nymph demure, with mantle blue,
Thy treffes bath'd in balmy dew,
With step fimooth fliding o'er the green,
The graces breathing in thy mien
And thy vefture's gather'd fold
Girt with a zone of circling gold;
And bring the harp, whofe folemn string
Dies to the wild wind's murm'ring wing;
And the Nymph, whofe eye ferene

Marks the calm, breathing woodland scene;
Thought, mountain fage! who loves to climb,
And haunts the dark rock's fummit dim;
Let Fancy falcon-wing'd be near:
And through the cloud-envelop'd sphere,
Where mufing roams Retirement hoar,
Lull'd by the torrent's diftant roar,
Oh bid with trembling light to glow
The raven-plume that crowns his brow.

Lo, where thy meck-eyed train attend!
Queen of the folemn thought, defcend !
Oh hide me in romantic bow'rs!
Or lead my step to ruin'd tow'rs!
Where gleaming thro' the chinky door
The pale ray gilds the moulder'd floor :
While beneath the hallow'd pile,
Deep in the defart fhrieking ile,
Rapt Contemplation stalks along,
And hears the flow clock's pealing tongue;
Or, mid the dun difcolour'd gloom,
Sits on fome hero's peaceful tomb,
Throws Life's gay glitt'ring robe afide,
And tramples on the neck of Pride.

Oft fhelter'd by the rambling sprays,
Lead o'er the foreft's winding maze;

Where, thro' the mantling boughs, afar
Glimmers the filver-ftreaming ftar;
And, fhower'd from ev'ry rustling blade,
The loofe light floats along the fhade :
So hov'ring o'er the human fcene
Gay Pleasure sports with brow ferene;
By Fancy beam'd, the glancing ray
Shoots, Hutters, gleams, and fleets away:
Unfettled, dubious, reftlefs, blind,
Floats all the bufy bustling mind;
While Memory's unftain'd leaves retain
No trace from all th' ideal train.

But fee the landskip op'ning fair
Invites to breathe the purer air!
Oh when the cowflip-fcented gale
Shakes the light dew-drop o'er the dale,
When on her amber-dropping bed
Loofe Eafe reclines her downy head;
How bleft! by fairy-haunted stream
To melt in wild ecftatic dream;
Die to the pictur'd with, or hear
(Breath'd foft on Fancy's trembling ear)
Such lays by angel harps refin'd,
As half unchain the flutt'ring mind,
When on life's edge it eyes the fhore,
And all its pinions ftretch to foar.

Lo! where the fun's broad orb withdrawn
Skirts with pale gold the dufky lawn;
While, led by ev'ry gentler pow'r,
Steals the flow, folemn, mufing hour.
Now from the green hill's purple brow
Let me mark the fcene below;
Where feebly glancing thro' the gloom
Yon myrtle fhades the filent tomb:
Not far, beneath the evening beam
The dark lake rolls his azure stream,
Whofe breast the fwan's white plumes divide,
Slow-failing o'er the floating tide.

Groves, meads, and spires, and forests bare,
Shoot glimm'ring thro' the mifty air;
Dim as the vifion-pictur'd bow'r
That gilds the faint's expiring hour,
When, rapt to ecftafy, his eye
Looks thro' the blue ethereal fky.
All heaven unfolding to his fight!
Gay forms that fwim in floods of light!
The fun-pav'd floor, the balmy clime,
The ruby-beaming dome fublime,
The tow'rs in glitt'ring pomp difplay'd-
The bright fcene hovers o'er his bed
He starts but from his eager gaze
Black clouds obfcure the leffening rays;
On mem'ry still the fcene is wrought,
And lives in Fancy's featur'd thought.

On the airy mount reclin'd
What wishes foothe the mufing mind!
How foft the velvet lap of Spring!
How fweet the Zephyr's violet wing!
Goddefs of the plaintive fong,
That leads the melting heart along;
Oh bid thy voice of genial pow'r
Reach Contemplation's lonely bow'r;
And call the fage with tranced fight
To climb the mountain's fteepy height;

T.

To wing the kindling with, or fpread
O'er Thought's pale check enliv'ning red;
Come, hoary Pow'r with ferious eye,
Whofe thought explores yon diftant sky;
Now when the bufy world is ftill,
Nor paffion tempts the wav'ring will,
When fweeter hopes each pow'r controul,
And quiet whifpers to the foul,
Now fweep from life th' illufive train
That dance in Folly's dizzy brain ;
Be Reafon's fimple draught portray'd,
Where blends alternate light and fhade;
Bid dimpled Mirth, with thought belyed,
Sport on the bubble's glitt'ring fide;
Bid Hope purfue the diftant boon,
And Phrenzy watch the fading moon;
Paint Superftition's starting eye,
And Wit that leers with gefture fly;
Let Cenfure whet her venom'd dart,
And green-eyed Envy gnaw the heart;
Let Pleafure lie on flow'rs reclin'd,
While Anguish aims her fhaft behind.

Hail, Sire fublime, whofe hallow'd cave
Howls to the hoarfe deep's dafhing wave;
Thee Solitude to Phoebus bore,
Far on the lone deferted fhore,
Where Orellano's rushing tide
Roars on the rock's projected fide.
Hence bursting o'er thy ripen'd mind,
Beams all the father's thought refin'd:
Hence oft, in filent vales unfeen,
Thy footsteps print the fairy green;
Or thy foul melts to ftrains of woe,
That from the willow's quiv'ring bough
Sweet warbling breathe-the zephyrs round
O'er Dee's fmooth current waft the found,
When foft on bending ofiers laid
The broad fun trembling thro' the bed;
All wild thy heav'n-rapt Fancy ftrays,
Led thro' the foul-diffolving maze;
Till Slumber downy-pinion'd, near
Plants her ftrong fetlocks on thy car;
The foul unfetter'd burfts away,
And baiks enlarg'd in beamy day.

OGILVIE.

§ 118. Ode to Innocence. "TWAS when the flow-declining ray

Had ting'd the cloud with evening gold; No warbler pour'd the melting lay, No found disturb'd the fleeping fold. When by a mum'ring rill reclin'd Sat wrapt in thought a wand'ring fwain; Calm peace compos'd his mufing mind; And thus he rais'd the flowing ftrain: "Hail, Innocence! celestial maid!

What joys thy blufhing charms reveal! "Sweet as the arbour's cooling fhade, "And milder than the vernal galc. "On Thee attends a radiant choir, "Soft-smiling Peace, and downy Reft; "With Love, that prompts the warbling lyre; “ And Hope, that foothes the throbbing breast.

"Oh fent from heaven to haunt the grove, "Where fquinting Envy ne'er can come ! "Nor pines the check with luckless love, "Nor Anguifh chills the living bloom. "But fpotlefs Beauty, rob'd in white, "Sits on yon mofs-grown hill reclin'd; "Serene as heaven's unfullied light, "And pure as Delia's gentle mind. "Grant, Heavenly Pow'r! thy peaceful fway "May still my ruder thoughts controul;

66

Thy hand to point my dubious way, "Thy voice to foothe the melting foul. "Far in the fhady fweet retreat "Let Thought beguile the ling'ring hour; "Let Quiet court the moffy feat, "And twining olives form the bow'r. "Let dove-eyed Peace her wreath beftow, "And oft fit lift'ning in the dale, "While Night's fweet warbler from the bough "Tells to the grove her plaintive tale.

"Soft as in Delia's fnowy breaft,
"Let each confenting paffion move;
"Let Angels watch its filent reft,
"And all its blifsful dreams be Love!"

119. Hymn to Science. LIBRARY MAGAZINE.

I.

SCIENCE! thou fair effufive ray
From the great fource of mental day,
Free, gen'rous, and refin'd,
Defcend, with all thy treafures fraught,
Illumine each bewilder'd thought,

And blefs my lab'ring mind.

II.

But firft with thy refiftlefs light
Difperfe thofe phantoms from my fight,
Thofe mimic shades of thee,
The fcholiaft's learning, fophift's cant,
The vifionary bigot's rant,

The monk's philofophy.

III.

Oh let thy pow'rful charm impart
The patient head, the candid heart,
Devoted to thy fway;

Which no weak paflions e'er mislead,
Which fill with dauntlefs fteps procced
Where reafon points the way.

IV.

Give me to learn each fecret caufe,
Let Numbers, Figures, Motion's laws
Reveal'd before me stand.
Then to great Nature's fcenes apply,
And round the globe and thio' the sky
Difclofe her working hand.

V. Next

V.

Next to thy nobler fearch refign'd The bufy reftlefs human mind, Thro'ev'ry maze purfue; Detect perception where it lies, Catch the ideas as they rife,

And all their changes view.

VI.

Her fecret ftores bid Mem'ry tell,
Bid Fancy quit her airy cell

In all her treasures dreft;
While, prompt her fallies to controul,
Reafon, the judge, recalls the foul
To Truth's levereft teft.

VII.

Say from what fimple fprings began
The raft ambitious thoughts of man,
That range beyond controul,
Which feek eternity to trace,
Drive thro' th' infinity of space,

And train to grafp the whole?

VIII.

Then range thro' Being's wide extent, Let the fair fcale with just afcent

And equal steps be trod, Till, from the dead corporeal mafs, Thro' each progreffive rank you pass To Instinct, Reason, God!

IX.

There, Science, veil thy daring eye, Nor dive too deep nor foar too high

In the divine abyfs;

To Faith content thy beams to lend, Her hopes t'affure, her steps befriend, And light the way to blifs.

X.

Then downward take thy flight again,
Mix with the policies of men,

And focial nature's ties ;
The plan, the genius, of each ftate,
Its interefts and its pow'r relate,
Its fortunes, and its rife.

XI.

Thro' private life purfue thy courfe, Trace ev'ry action to its fource,

And means and motives weigh;
Put tempers, paffions, in the fcale,
Mark what degrees in each prevail,
And fix the doubtful fway.
XII.

The laft beft effort of thy skill,
To form the life, and rule the will,
Propitious pow'r, impart !
Teach me to cool my paffion's fires,
Make me the judge of my defires,
The mafter of my heart.
XIII.
Raife me above the vulgar breath,
Purfuit of fortune, dread of death,
And all in life that's mean:
Still true to Reafon be my plan,
And let my actions speak the man,
Thro' ev'ry varying fcene.

XIV.

Hail, Queen of Manners! Teft of Truth!
Hail, charm of Age, and light of Youth!
Sweet refuge of Diftrefs!
E'en bufinefs you can make polite,
Can give retirement its delight,
Profperity its grace.

XV.

Of pow'r, wealth, freedom, thou the cause, Foundrefs of order, cities, laws,

Of arts Inventrefs thou!

Without thee what were human kind?
How vaft their wants, their thoughts how blind!
Their joys how mean, how few!

XVI.

Sun of the foul! thy beams unveil I Let others fix the daring fail

On Fortune's faithlefs fea : While, undeluded, happier I From the vain tumult timely fly, And fit in peace with thee!

§ 120. Address to a Young Gentleman at School.

DUNCAN.

ROUSE then, exert thy talents, neither weak,

Nor 'mid the fons of duinefs doom'd to fneak. Get learning: 'tis the grace of Science fair, That gives the lib'ral mind its nobleft air. Get Knowledge: it enfures enjoyment true, Fit felf-esteem, a claim to rev'rence due. Get Wisdom: in her train the virtues fhine, Thy guides, with Hope and Faith, to blifs divine. Get Wisdom arduous aim! not hopeless-run; Begin: half ended is the race begun. Fleet, even at starting for the victor's meed, Fly, the whole courfe is glowing; fleeter speed. The ftripling drone, for life a driv'ler, ende A fhame, a burthen to himself and friends. Blank as decrepitude fhall youth flit by, Manhood unmark'd by one flight merit die. Lo! yon dull clown bends o'er his fork, demurs, Yawns, liftlefs eyes the gliding stream, nor ftirs But waits its gliding off, that gliding still From ages to fucceedent ages will.

As idly toil thefe dolts, in chace as vain' Of air-gilt bubbles, pleasure, grandeur, gain. Ill does an earth-worm's offal, thy purfuit, Bafe worldling, a celestial spirit fuit;

Born to hold commerce with its kindred fkies, From ftrength to strength to glory born to rife.

"Who talks of spirit? All corporeal grown, "Each thinks of feeming now, of being none; "A brilliant equipage, a modifh wife,

"The flutter, noife, and outfide glare of life. "In building, gard'ning, fordid is the plan, "That fuits the rank and fortune of the man; "Abject the tafte, that stoops to things of ufe, "Poor the best-order'd board, if not profufe."

Rare noftrums thefe, to heal a fev'rifh heart! A&t thou the rational, the decent part, Which truth, pure nature, and religion trace, With moral dignity, with manly grace;

Fair Virtue's offspring, Pleafure, lovely ward
Of Heaven-taught Wifdom, fhall thy truth reward,
With Grandeur, Gain, unfullied as the ray
That gilds yon fky-topt dome in cloudless day;
While fadd'ning damps and low-born vapours

drown

The revels, pomp, and traffic of the town.
Above dependance rais'd by gentle fate,
Pity the flaves condemn'd to court the great,
They bluth to own. The genuine great revere,
Whofe high deferts adorn their stated sphere.
Be thine deferts as high, the gen'rous aim
From man to merit, not folicit, fame;
Be thine the triumphs of a foul ferene,
The fmile of Reafon, and a golden mean.
Be thine the praise of God: nor stoop to rail,
If humbler projects of ambition fail.

"Friend, keep your Roman courtier ftill in fight;
"Be civil, as your text, to ears polite.
"Religion! wifdom! pfhaw-your fermon cloys:
"A golden mean what modern wight enjoys?
"For homefpun virtues ranfack hift ry now :
"Back to young Rome's Dictator, at the plough."

From Fashion's taint and diffipation free, With fuch plain puts retir'd as **** and me, Shun random commerce, to refpect mankind. Keep found and ftrong thy native health of mind: The found fhall feek thee; few, indeed, but fuch, As need no caution to frequent too much; While fots and foplings fly thy facred fhade, Nor Fortune's fools its halcyon case invade.

Yet now the scene in diff'rent guise appears
All former traces, like a dream, are fled;
Religion now a lib'ral afpect wears;

!

Now genuine Science lifts her tow’ring head.
Devious how oft in tranquil mood I've stray'd,
WhereCherwell's placid ftream irriguous flows;
Where Ifis, wand'ring thro' the dewy mead,
On the gay plains fertility beftows.

Oft have I view'd, immers'd in foothing thought,
Uprear'd by ancient hands the maffy pile;
The Gothic turret high, the Saxon vault,

The painted window, and the lengthen'd aile.
Achaian models too I've frequent trac'd,

Where genius blazes in the grand design;
The structure with Corinthian columns grac'd,
Where Attic taste and harmony combine.
Where the high roof attracts the studious eye,

Where num'rous tomes in claffic order lie,
The roof with Bodley's rev'rend name infcrib'd;

And plenteous stores of knowledge arc imbib'd:
How oft, well pleas'd, I've turn'd the varied page,
My mind detach'd from ev'ry futile joy,
From giddy vanities that life engage,

Follies that vex, and forrows that annoy;
Forgot each bufy care of active life,

Forgot the turmoils of the public fcene,
Forgot all envy, pride, and jealous ftrife,

The ftarts of paffion, and the fits of spleen!
Adieu, ye groves, where erft I wont to roam,
Where health attends the clear falubrious air;

§ 121. Effufions on quitting an Academic Life. Retirement left, I seek a diff'rent home,

ANONYMOUS.

Sero refpicitur tellus, ubi, fune foluto,

Currit in immenfum panda carina falum. OVID.

ADIEU, ye facred walls, ye lofty tow'rs,
Imperial Learning's venerable feats!
Reluctant now I quit your peaceful bow'rs,
Your happy manfions, and your lov'd retreats.
Here keen-eyed Science plumes her daring wing;
Vent'rous the here effays her nobleft fights:
Here, in each claffic grove, the Mufes fing,

And fill the mind with innocent delights.
Grateful I venerate thofe honour'd names,
Who patroniz'd fair Learning's infant cause;
Who nobly dar'd to vindicate her claims

To juft regard, distinction, and applause.
'Midft the illuftrious groupe an Alfred fhines;
Alfred the juft, the virtuous, and the great;
Whomingled with the wreath that conqueft twines
The cares of fcience, and the toils of state.
Tho' in these feats dim Superftition reign'd,

Clouding each mind, unnerving ev'ry heart;
Tho' monkish fraud its empire here maintain'd,
And wily priefts here play'd th' impoftor's part:
Tho' here dull fchoolmen vain debate purfued,
And the free mind in abject fetters bound;
Tho' with thin fophiftry, and jargon rude,
All common fenfe they labour'd to confound:

And to the gay metropolis repair.

122. Addrefs to Senfibility.

MRS. YEARSLEY?

OH Senfibility! Thou bufy nurse

Thofe ferpents in the foul? their ftings more fell
Of inj'ries once receiv'd, why wilt thou feed
Than thofe which writh'd round Priam's pricftly
fon;

I feel them here! They rend my panting breaft;
But I will tear them thence: ah! effort vain!
Difturb'd they grow rapacious, while their fangs
Strike at poor Memory; wounded the deplores
Her ravish'd joys, and murmers o'er the paft.

Why fhrinks my foul within thefe prifon walls, Where wretches thake their chains? Ill-fated youth!

Why does thine eye run wildly o'er my form,
Pointed with fond enquiry? 'Tis not me
Thy reftlefs thought would find. The filent tear
Afford thee refuge, I would bear thee hence
Steals gently down his check: ah! could my arms
To a more peaceful dwelling. Vain the with!
Thy pow'rs are all unhing'd, and thou wouldst sit
Infenfible to fympathy: farewel.
Lamented being! ever loft to hope,
I leave thee, yea defpair myself of cure.

Bedlam,

For,

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Increase the recent pang. Penfive I rove,
More wounded than the hart whofe fide yet holds
The deadly arrow: Friendship, boast no more
Thy hoard of joys, o'er which my foul oft hung,
Like the too anxious mifer o'er his gold.
My treasures all are wreck'd; I quit the scene
Where haughty Infult cut the facred ties
Which long had held us. Cruel Julius! take
My laft adieu. The wound thou gav'ft is death,
Nor canft e'en thou recal my frighted fenfe
With Friendship's pleafing found; yet will I clafp
Thy valued image to my aching mind,
And viewing that, forgive thee; will deplore
The blow that fever'd two congenial fouls!
Officious Senfibility! 'tis thine
To give the fineft anguish, to diffolve
The drofs of fpirit; till, all effence, the
Refines on real woe; from thence extracts
Sad unexifting phantoms, never seen.

Yet, dear ideal mourner, be thou near
When on Lyfander's tears I filent gaze;
Then, with thy viewlefs pencil, form his figh,
His deepest groan, his forrow-tinged thought,
With immature, impatience, cold defpair,
With all the tort'ring images that play,
In fable hue, within his wafted mind.

And when this dreary group fhall meet my
thought,

Oh! throw my pow'rs upon a fertile fpace,
Where mingles ev'ry varied foft relief.
Without thee, I could offer but the dregs
Of vulgar confolation; from her cup
He turns the eye, nor dare it foil his lip!

§ 123. Addrefs to Indifference.

MRS. YEARSLEY.

INDIFF'RENCE, come! thy torpid juices shed On my keen fenfe: plunge deep my wounded

heart

In thickest apathy, till it congeal,

Or mix with thee incorp rate. Come, thou foo
To fharp fenfation, in thy cold embrace
To my long reftlefs foul, toft on extreme,
A death-like flumber fhall a refpite give
Dear fubftitute of Patience! thou canst ease
From blifs to pointed woe. O gentle Pow'r!
The Soldier's toil, the gloomy Captive's chain,
The Lover's anguish, and the Mifer's fear.

Proud Beauty will not own thee! her loud boaft Is Virtue-while thy chilling breath alone Blows o'er her foul, bidding her paffions fleep.

Miftaken caufe! the frozen Fair denies
Thy faving influence. Virtue never lives
But in the bofom ftruggling with its wound:
There the fupports the conflict, there augments
The pang of hopelefs Love, the fenfelefs ftab
Of gaudy Ign'rance, and more deeply drives
The poifon'd dart, hurl'd by the long-lov'd friend;
Then pants with painful Victory. Bear me hence,
Thou antidote to pain! thy real worth

Mortals can never know. What's the vain boast
Of Senfibility but to be wretched?
In her beft tranfports lives a latent fting,
Which wounds as they expire.

heights

On her high

Our fouls can never fit; the point fo nice, We quick fly off-fecure but in descent.

To Senfibility, what is not blifs

Raife thou my friendly hand; mix thou the Is woe. No placid medium's ever held

draught

More pure than ether, as ambrofia clear,
Fit only for the foul; thy chalice fill
With drops of fympathy, which fwiftly fall
From my afflicted heart: yet-yet beware,
Nor ftoop to feize from Paffion's warmer clime
A pois nous fweet-Bright cherub, fafely rove
Thro' all the deep receffes of the foul!
Float on her raptures, deeper tinge her woes,
Strengthen emotion, higher waft her figh,
Sit in the tearful orb, and ardent gaze
On joy or forrow. But thy empire ends
Within the line of Spirit. My rough foul,
Oh Senfibility! defenceless hails
Thy feelings most acute. Yet, ye who boast
Of blifs I ne'er muft reach, ye who can fix
A rule for fentiment, if rules there are,
(For much I doubt, my friends, if rule e'er held
Capacious fentiment) ye fure can point
My mind to joys that never touch'd the heart.
What is this joy? Where does its effence reft?
Ah! felf-confounding fophifts, will ye dare
Pronounce that joy which never touch'd the heart?
Does Education give the tranfport keen,
Or fwell your vaunted grief? No, Nature feels
Moft poignant, undefended; hails with me
The Pow'rs of Senfibility untaught.

Beneath her torrid line, when ftraining high
The fibres of the foul. Of Pain, or Joy,
She gives too large a fhare; but thou, more kind,
Wrapp'ft up the heart from both, and bidd'st it reft
In ever-with'd-for cafe. By all the pow'rs
Which move within the mind for diff'rent ends,
I'd rather lofe myself with thee, and fhare
Thine happy indolence, for one short hour,
Than live of Senfibility the tool

For endless ages. Oh! her points have pierc'd
My foul, till like a fponge it drinks up woe.

Then leave me, Senfibility be gone, Thou chequer'd angel! Seek the foul refin'd: I hate thee, and thy long progreffive brood Of joys and miferies. Soft Indiff'rence, come! In this low cottage thou shalt be my gueft, Till Death fhuts out the hour: here down I'll fink

With thee upon my couch of homely rufh,
Which fading forms of Friendship, Love, or Hope,
Muft ne'er approach. Ah! quickly hide, thou
pow'r,

The lids of mental fight, left I abjure
Thofe dear intruding images! Oh feal
My freezing fupplication.-All is fill.

Idea fmother'd leaves my mind a waste,
Where Seafibility muft lofe her prey.

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