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See cherries here, ere cherries vet abound,

With thread fo white in tempting pofies ty'd, Scatt'ring, like blooming maid, their glances round,

With pamper'd look draw little eyes afide, And mult be bought, tho' penury betide!

own,

The plumb all azure, and the nut all brown; And here, each feafon, do thofe cakes abide, Whofe honour'd names the inventive city [known. Rend'ring thro' Britain's ifle Salopia's praifes Admir'd Salopia! that with venial pride[wave, Eyes her bright form in Severn's ambient Fam'd for her loyal cares in perils try'd;[brave: Her daughters lovely, and her ftriplings Ah! midit the reft, may flow'rs adorn his grave Whofe art did first thefe dulcet cates difplay! A motive fair to Learning's imps he gave, Who cheerlefs o'er her darkling region stray, Till Reafon's morn arife, and light them on their

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The morn that lights you, to your loves fupplics Each gentler ray, delicious to your eyes; For you thofe flow's her fragrant hands beftow, And yours the love that kings delight to know. Yet think not thefe, all beauteous as they are, The beft kind bleflings Heav'n can grant the Who truft alone in beauty's feeble ray, [fair: Boaft but the worth Ballora's ↑ pearls difplay! 'Drawn from the deep, we own the furface bright;

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But, dark within, they drink no luftrous light. 'Such are the maids, and fuch the charms they By fenfe unaided, or to virtue loft. [boaft; Self-Hatt'ring fex! your hearts believė, in vain, That love fhall blind, when once he fires the Or hope a lover by your faults to win,[fwaid As fpots on ermin beautify the fkin: 'Who feeks fecure to rule, be firft her care Each fofter virtue that adorns the fair; Each tender paflion man delights to find The lov'd perfection of a female mind. [reign, 'Blefs'd were the days when wifdom held her And fhepherds fought her on the filent plain; With Truth fhe wedded in the fecret grove; Immortal Truth and daughters blets'd their 'love.

O hafte, fair maids! ye Virtues come away! Sweet Peace and Plenty lead you on your way! The balny fhrub for you fhall love our fhore, By Ind excell'd, or Araby, no more.

Loft to our fields, for fo the fates ordain, The dear deferters fhall return again. Come thou, whofe thoughts as limpid fprings ' are clear;

To lead the train, tweet Modesty, appear:
Here make thy court amidit our rural fcene,
And fhepherd girls fhall own thee for their
With thee be Chaftity, of all afraid, [queen.
Diitrufting all, a wife fufpicious maid;

But man the moft-not more the mountain doe
Holds the fwift falcon for her deadly foe. [dew;
Cold is her breaft, like flow'rs that drink the
A filken vejl conceals her from the view.
No wild defires amidit thy train be known,
But Faith, whole heart is fix'd on one alone:
Defponding Meeknefs, with her down-caft
And friendly Pity, full of tender fighs; [eves,
And Love the laft. By thefe your hearts ap-
'prove';

These are the virtues that muft lead to love.'
Thus fung the wain; and ancient legend, Tay,
The maids of Bagdat verify'd the lay:
Dear to the plains, the Virtues came along;
The thepherds lov'd, and Selim blefs'd his tong.

§ 107. Oriental Eclogues. By Mr. COLLINS.
ECLOGUE II.

Haffan; or the Camel-Driver.
Scene, the Defart. —Time, Mid-Day.
N filent horror, o'er the boundlefs wafte,
The driver Haffan with his camels pass'd:

The Gulf of that name, famous for the pearly fishery.

One crufe of water on his back he bore,
And his light fcrip contain'd a fcanty store:
A fan of painted feathers in his hand,
To guard his fhaded face from scorching fand.
The fultry fun had gain'd the middle sky,
And not a tree, and not an herb was nigh :
The beafts with pain their dufty way pursue,
Shrill roar'd the winds, and dreary was the view!
With defp'rate forrow, wild, th'affrighted man
Thrice figh'd, thrice ftruck his breaft, and thus
began:

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Sad was the hour, and lucklefs was the day,
When firft from Schiraz' walls I bent my
'way!

Ah! little thought I of the blafting wind,
The thirst, or pinching hunger that I find !
Bethink thee, Haffan,where thall thirst affwage,
When fails this crufe, his unrelenting rage;
Soon fhall this fcrip its precious load refign;
Then what but tears and hunger fhall be thine?

Before them Death, with fhrieks, directs their ' way!.

Fills the wild yell, and leads them to theirprey. Sad was the hour, and lucklefs was the day, • When firit from Schiraz' walls I bent my 'way!

At that dead hour the filent afp fhall creep, If aught of reft I find upon my fleep: 'Or fome fwoln ferpent twift his fcales around, And wake to anguish with a burning wound. - Thrice happy they, the wife contented poor; 'From luft of wealth, and dread of death fecure! They tempt no defarts, and no griefs they find; Peace rules the day where Reafon rules the

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Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
When firft from Schiraz' walls I bent my

'way!

O hapless youth! for fhe thy love hath won,
The tender Zara shall be moft undone !

Ye mute companions of my toils, that bear In all my griefs a more than equal share ! Here, where no fprings in murmurs break away, Or mofs crown'd fountains mitigate the day, In vain ye hope the green delights to know, Which plains more blefs'd, or verdant vales "Whom Zara's breaking heart implor'd in vain; 'beftow: "Yet as thou go'it, may ev'ry blaft arife, Here rocks alone, and taftelefs fands are found," Weak and unfelt as thefe rejected fighs! And faint and fickly winds for ever howl "Safe o'er the wild, no perils may'ft thou fee; ' around. "No griefs endure, nor weep, falfe youth, like Sad was the hour, and lucklefs was the day,O let me fafely to the fair return,

Big fwell'd my heart, and own'd the powerful 'inaid,

[faid: When faft the dropp'd her tears, and thus the "Farewell the youth, whom fighs could not 'detain ;

When firft from Schiraz' walls I bent my

'way!

Curft be the gold and filver which perfuade
Weak men to follow far-fatiguing trade!

The lily Peace outfhines the filver store ;
And life is dearer than the golden ore:
Yet money tempts us o'er the defart brown,
To every diftant mart and wealthy town.
Full oft we tempt the land, and oft the fea;
And are we only yet repaid by thee?
Ah! why this ruin fo attractive made?
Or why, fond man, to easily betray'd?
Why heed we not, while mad we hafte along,
The gentle voice of Peace, or Pleasure's fong ?
'Or wherefore think the flow'ry mountain's fide,
The fountain's murmurs, and the valley's
'pride;

Why think we thefe lefs pleafing to behold
Than dreary defarts, if they lead to gold?

Sad was the hour, and lucklef's was the day,
When firft from Schiraz' walls. I bent my
'way!

"O ceafe iny fears !—all frantic as I go,
When thought creates unnumber'd fcenes of
What if the Lion in his rage I meet! [woe.
Oft in the duft I view his printed fect:
• And, fearful! oft, when day's declining light
Yields her pale empire to the mourner Night,
By hunger rouz'd, he fcours the groaning plain,
• Gaunt wolves and fullen Tygers in his train :

[me!" Say, with a kiss, she must not, fhall not mourn! "O let me teach my heart to lose its fears, Recall'd by wifdom's voice and Zara's tears!' He faid; and call'd on Heaven to blefs the day [way. When back to Schiraz' walls he bent his

108. Oriental Eclogues. By Mr. COLLINS.
ECLOGUE III.

Abra; or the Georgian Sultana.
Scene, a Foreft Time, the Evening.
N Georgia's land, where Tefflis' tow'rs are

In diftant view along the level green, [feen,

While evening dews enrich the glitt'ring glade,
And the tall forefts caft a longer fhade:
What time 'tis fweet o'er fields of rice to ftray,
Or fcent the breathing maize at setting day; ·
Amidst the maids of Zagen's peaceful grove,
Emyra fung the pleafing cares of love.

Of Abra firft began the tender ftrain,
Who led her youth with flocks upon the plain;
At morn fhe came, thofe willing flocks to lead
Where lilies rear them in the wat'ry mead :
From early dawn the live-long hours fhe told,
Till late at filent eve the penn'd the fold.
Deep in the grove, beneath the fecret shade,
A various wreath of od'rous flowers fhe made.
Gay motley'd pinks and fweer jonquils the chofe
The violet blue that on the mofs-bank grows;

That these flowers are found in very great abundance in fome of the provinces of Perfia, fee the Modern Hiftory of the ingenious Mr. Salmon,

All

All fweet to fenfe, the flaunting rofe was there:
The finish'd chaplet well adorn'd her hair.
Great Abbas chanc'd that fated morn to ftray,
By love conducted from the chace away:
Among the vocal valcs he heard her fong,
And fought the vales and echoing groves among.
At length he found and woo'd the rural maid;
She knew the monarch, and with fear obey'd.

Be ev'ry youth like royal Abbas mov'd,
And ev'ry Georgian maid like Abralov'd!'
The royal lover bore her from the plain;
Yet ftill her crook and bleating flock remain:
Oft as the went the backward turn'd her view,
And bade that crook and bleating flock adieu.
Fair happy maid! to other scenes remove;
To richer fcenes of golden pow'r and love!
Go leave the fimple pipe and fhepherd's strain;
With love delight thee, and with Abbas reign.

Be ev'ry youth like royal Abbas mov'd, And ev'ry Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!' Yet, midft the blaze of courts fhe fix'd her love On the cool fountain or the fhady grove; Still, with the fhepherd's innocence her mind To the fweet vale and flow'ry mead inclin'd And oft a Spring renew'd the plains with flow'rs, Breath'd his foft gales, and led the fragrant

hours;

With fure return fhe fought the fylvan scene, The breezy mountains and the forefts green. Her maids around her mov'd, a dutcous band! Each bore a crook all rural in her hand:

Some fimple lay of flocks and herds they fung; With joy the mountain and the foreft rung.

Be ev'ry youth like royal Abbas mov'd, And ev'ry Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!' And oft the royal lover left the care And thorns of state, attendant on the fair; Oft to the thades and low roof'd cots retir'd, Or fought the vale where firft his heart was fir'd: A ruffet mantle, like a fwain, he wore, And thought of crowns and bufy courts no more.

Be ev'ry youth like royal Abbas mov'd,
And ev'ry Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!'
Blefs'd was the life that royal Abbas led :
Sweet was his love, and innocent his bed.
What if in wealth the noble maid excel;
The fimple fhepherd-girl can love as well.
Let those who rule on Perfia's jewell'd throne
Be fam'd for love, and gentleft love alone;
Or wreathe, like Abbas full of fair renown,
The lover's myrtle with the warrior's crown.
O happy days!' the maids around her fay:
O hafte, profufe of bleflings, hafte away!

Be ev'ry youth like royal Abbas mov'd,
And ev'ry Georgian maid like Abra lov'd'

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At that still hour, when awful midnight reigns, And none but wretches haunt the twilight plains; What time the moon had hung her lamp on high; And pafs'd in radiance thro' the cloudless sky: Sad o'er the dews two brother fhepherds fled, Where wild'ring fear and defp'rate forrow led. Faft as they prefs'd their flight, behind them lay Wide ravag'd plains, and vallies ftole away. Along the mountain's bending fide they ran; Till faint and weak, Secander thus began: SECANDER.

O ftay thee, Agib, for my feet deny,. No longer friendly to my life, to fly. Friend of my heart, O turn thee and furvey; Trace our fad flight thro' all its length of way! And firft review that long-extended plain, And yon wide groves, already pafs'd with pain! You ragged cliff, whose dang'rous path we try'al And last, this lofty mountain's weary fide!

ÀGIB.

Weak as thou art, yet hapless must thou know The toils of flight, or fome feverer woe! Still as I hafte, the Tartar fhouts behind, And fhricks and forrows load the fadd'ning wind, In rage of heart, with ruin in his hand, He blafts our harvefts and deforms our land. Yon citron grove, whence firft in fear we came, Drops its fair honors to the conqu❜ring flame; Far fly the fwains, like us, in deep defpair, And leave to ruffian bands their fleecy care.

SECANDER.

Unhappy land! whofe bleffings tempt the fword;

In vain, unheard, thou call'ft thy Perfian lord
In vain thou court'ft him, helpless, to thine aid,
To fhield the thepherd and protect the maid!
Far off, in thoughtlefs indolence refign'd,
Soft dreams of love and pleafure foothe his mind
Midft fair fultanas loft in idle joy,
No wars alarm him, and no fears annoy..

AGIB.

Yet thefe green hills, in fummer's fultry hear, Have lent the monarch oft a cool retreat. Sweet to the fight is Zabra's flow'ry plain, And once by maids and fhepherds lov'd in vain! No more the virgins fhall delight to rove By Sargis' banks, or Irwan's fhady grove; On Tarkie's mountain catch the cooling gale, Or breathe the fweets of Aly's flow'ry vale; Fair scenes! but ah nomore with peace poffefs'd, With cafe alluring, and with plenty blefs'd. No more the fhepherd's whit'ning tents appear, Nor the kind products of a bounteous year; No more the date, with fnowy bloffoms crown'd; But ruin fpreads her baleful fires around.

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Thofe eves in tears their fruitlefs grief muft fend; Thofe hairs the Tartars cruel hand fhall rend.

AGIE.

Ye Georgian fwains, that piteous learn from Circaflia's ruin, and the wafte of war; [far Some weightier arms than crooks and staffs pre

pare,

To fhield your harveft, and defend your fair :
The Turk and Tartar like defigns pursue,
Fix'd to deftroy, and ftedfaft to undo.
Wild as his land, in native defaits bred,
By luft incited, or by malice led,
The villain Arab, as he prowls for prey,
Oftmarks with blood and wafting flames the way;
Yet none fo cruel as the Tartar foe,
To death inur'd and nurs'd in fcenes of woc.
He faid; when loud along the vale was heard
A thriller fhrick, and nearer fires appear'd:
Th'affrighted thepherds, thro' the dews of night,
Wide o'er the moon-light hills renew'd their
flight.

$110. The Splendid Shilling. J. PHILLIPS.

66

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Sing, heavenly Muse!

Things unattempted yet, in profe or rhyme;" A Shilling, Breeches, and Chimeras dire. APPY the man, who, void of are and ftrife, In filken or in leathern parfe retains A Splendid Shilling. He nor hears with pain New oyiters cry'd, nor fighs for cheerful ale: But with his friends, when nightly mifts arife, To Juniper's Magpye, or Town Hall repairs; Where, mindful of the nymph, whofe wanton eye Transfix'd his foul, and kindled amorous flames, Chloe, or Phillis, he each circling glafs Witheth her health and joy, and equal love. Meanwhile he finokes, and laughs at merry tale, Or pur ambiguous, or conundrum quaint. But I, whem griping penury furrounds, And hunger, fure attendant upon want, With feanty offals, and fmall acid tiff (Wretched repaft !) my meagre courfe fuftain; Then folitary walk, or doze at home In garret vile, and with a warming puff Regale chill fingers; or, from tube as black As winter chimney, or well-polifh'd jet, Exhale Mundungus, ill-perfummmg fcent; Not blacker tube, nor of a fhoiter fize, Smokes Cambro-Britain (vers'd in pedigree, Sprung from Cadwallader and Arthur, kings Full famous in romantic tale) when he O'er many a craggy hill and barren cliff, Upon a cargo of fai❜d Ceftrian checfe, High over-fhadowing rides, with a defign To vend his wares, or at th'Arvonian mart, Or Maridunum, or the ancient town Yelep'd Brechinia; or where Vega's ftream Encircles Ariconium, fruitful foil, Whence flow nectarcous wines, that well may vie With Maffic, Setin, or renown'd Falern. Thus, while my joylefs minutes tedious flow, With looks demure and filent pace, a Dun, Horrible monfter! hated by gods and men,

To my aërial citadel afcends:

With vocal heel thrice thund'ring at my gates,
With hideous accent thrice he calls; I know
The voice ill-boding, and the folemn found.
What fhould I do? or whether turn? Amaz'd,
Confounded, to the dark recefs I fly
Of wood-hole; ftraight my briftling hairs creat
Thro' fudden fear; a chilly fweat bedews
My fhudd'ring limbs, and (wonderful to tell!)
My tongue forgets her faculty of speech;
So horrible he feeins! His faded brow [beard,
Entrench'd with many a frown, and conick
And spreading band, admir'd by modern faints,
Difaft'rous acts forebode; in his right hand
Long ferolls of paper folemnly he waves,
With characters and figures dire infcrib'd,
Grievous to mortal eyes; (ye gods, avert
Such plagues from righteous men!) Behind him
Another monfter, not unlike himself, [ftalks
Sullen of afpect, by the vulgar call'd
A Catchpole, whofe polluted hands the gods
With force incredible, and magic charms,
Erft have endu'd. If he his ample palm
Should haply on ill-fated fhoulder lay
Of debtor, ftraight his body, to the touch
Obfequious (as whilom knights were wont)
To fome inchanted caftle is convey'd,
Where gates impregnable, and coercive chains,
In durance ftrict detain him, till, in form
Of money, Pallas fets the captive free.

Beware, ye debtors! when ye walk beware,
Be circumfpect; oft with infidious ken
This caitiff eyes your steps aloof and oft,
Lies perdue in a nook or gloomy cave,
Prompt to inchant some inadvertent wretch
With his unhallow'd touch. So (poets sing)
Grimalkin, to domeftic vermin fworn
An everlafting foe, with watchful eye
Lies nightly brooking o'er a chinky gap,
Protending her fell claws, to thoughtless mice
Sure ruin. So her difein bowell'd web
Arachne in a hall or kitchen fpreads,
Obvious to vagrant flies; fhe fecret ftands
Within her woven cell! the humming prey,
Regardless of their fate, rufh on the toils
Inextricable, nor will aught avail

Their arts, or arms, or shapes of lovely hue!
The wafp infidious, and the buzzing drone,
And butterfly proud of expanded wings
Diftinct with gold, entangled in her fnares,
Ufelefs refiftance make: with eager ftrides,
She tow'ring flies to her expected spoils;
Then with envenom'd jaws the vital blood
Drinks of reluctant foes, and to her cave
Their bulky carcafes triumphant drags.

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So pafs my days. But when nocturnal shades This world invelope, and th'inclement air Perfuades men to repel benumbing frofts [wood; With pleafant wines, and crackling blaze of Me lonely fitting, nor the glimmering light Of make-weight candle, nor the joyous talk Of loving friend, delights; diftrefs'd, forlorn, Amidst the horrors of the tedious night, Darkling I figh, and feed with difmal thoughts My anxious mind; or fometimes mournful verfe

Indite,

Indite, and fing of groves and myrtle fhades,
Or defp'rate lady near a purling stream,
Or lover pendent on a willow-tree.
Meanwhile I labour with eternal drought,
And reftlefs with and rave; my parched throat
Finds no relief, nor heavy eyes repose:
But if a flumber haply does invade
My weary limbs, my fancy's ftill awake,
Thoughtful of drink, and eager, in a dream,
Tipples imaginary pots of ale,

In vain awake, I find the fettled thirst
Still gnawing, and the pleasant phantom curfe.
Thus do I live from pleafure quite debarr'd,
Nor tafte the fruits that the fun's genial rays
Mature john-apple, nor the downy peach,
Nor walnut in rough-furrow'd coat fecure,
Nor medlar fruit delicious in decay.
Afflictions great! yet greater ftill remain;
My galligafkins, that have long withstood
The winter's fury and encroaching frofts,
By time fubdu'd (what will not time fubdue!)
An horrid chafm difclofe, with orifice
Wide, difcontinuous; at which the winds,
Eurus and Aufter, and the dreadful force.
Of Boreas, that congeals the Cronian waves,
Tumultuous enter with dire chilling blafts,
Portending agues. Thus a well-fraught fhip,.
Long fail'd fecure, or thro' th' Ægean deep,
Or the Ionian, till cruifing near

The Lilybean fhore, with hideous crush
On Scylla, or Charybdis (dang'rous rocks)
She ftrikes rebounding; whence the fhatter'd oak,
So fierce a fhock unable to withstand,
Admits the fea; in at the gaping fide
The crowding waves guth with impetuous rage,
Refiftlets, overwhelming! Horrors feize
The mariners; death in their eyes appears;
They ftare, they lave, they pump, they fwear,
they pray:

(Vain efforts!) ftill the batt'ring waves rufh in,
Implacable; till, delug'd by the foam,
The fhip finks found'ring in the vait abyss.

§ 111. An Epiftle to a Lady. NUGENT.

CLA

LARINDA, dearly lov'd, attend "The counfels of a faithful friend; Who, with the warmcft wishes fraught, Feels all, at least, that friendship ought! But fince by ruling Heav'n's defign, Another's fate fhall influence thine; O! may thefe lines for him prepare A blifs, which I would die to share! Man may for wealth or glory roam; But woman must be bleft at honic; To this fhould all her ftudies tend, This her great object and her end. Diftafte unmingled pleasures bring, And ufe can blunt Affliction's fting: Hence perfect blifs no mortals know, And few are plung'd in utter woe; While Nature, arm'd against Despair, Gives pow'r to mend, or strength to bear;

And half the thought content may gain,
Which spleen employs to purchafe pain.

Trace not the fair domeftic plan
From what you would, but what you can!
Nor, peevith, fpurn the fcanty store,
Because you think you merit more!
Blifs ever differs in degree;

Thy fhare alone is meant for thee;
And thou shouldft think, however (mall,
That fhare enough, for 'tis thy all;
Vain fcorn will aggravate diftrefs,
And only make that little lefs.

Admit whatever trifles come;
Units compofe the largeft fum;
O! tell them o'er, and fay how vain
Are thofe who form Ambition's train;
Which fwell the Monarch's gorgeous state,
And bribe to ill the guilty great!

But thou, more bleft, more wife than thefe,
Shall build up happiness on eafe.
Hail, fweet Content! where joy ferene
Gilds the mild foul's unruffl'á fcene;
And, with blith Fancy's pencil wrought,
Spreads the white web of flowing thought;
Shines lovely in the cheerful face,

And clothes each charm with native grace;
Effufion pure of blifs fincere,
A veftment for a god to wear.

Far other ornaments compofe
The garb that throuds diffembled woes,
Pierc'd out with motley dies and forts,
Freaks, whimfies, feftivals, and fports;
The troubled mind's fantaftic drefs,
Which madness titles Happiness:
While the gay wretch to revels bears
The pale remains of fighs and tears;
And fecks in crowds, like her undone,
What only can be found in one.

But chief, my gentle friend! remove
Far from thy couch feducing Love.
O! fhun the falfe magician's art,
Nor trust thy yet unguarded heart!
Charm'd by his fpells fair honor flies,
And thoufand treach'ious phantoms-rife;
Where Guilt, in Beauty's ray beguiles,
And Ruin lurks in Friendship's miles.
Lo where th'inchanted captive dreams
Of warbling groves and purling fireams;
Of painted meads, of flow's that fhed
Their odours round her fragrant bed,
Quick fhifts the fcene, the charmn is loft,
She wakes upon a defart coaft;
No friendly hand to lend its aid,
No guardian bow'r to fpread its fhade;
Expos'd to ev'ry chilling blaft,
She treads th'inhofpitable wafte;
And down the drear decline of life,.
Sinks a forlorn, dishonour'd wife.
Neglect not thou the voice of Fame,
But, clear from crime, be free from blame!
Tho' all were innocence within,
'Tis guilt to wear the garb of fin;
Virtue rejects the foul difguife:
Nene merit praife who praife defpife.

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