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And oft as to thy mind thou shalt recal
$140. Ad Amicos. †. R. WEST.
'Tis like the stream, beside whose wat'ry bed
But why repine, does life deferve my figh!
Juft Heav'n! what fin, ere life begins to To them may thefe fond lines my name cada,
Devotes my head untimely to the tomb;
Did e'er this hand against a brother's life [knife?
Not from the Poet, but the Friend fincere.
$141. Hymn to Contentment. PARNELL LOVELY, lafting peace of mind!
Sweet delight of human kind!
Ambition fearches all its sphere
In trailing purple o'er the ground:
+ Almost all Tibullus's Elegy is imitated in this little piece, from whence his tranfition to Mr. Pare letter is very artfully contrived, and befpeaks a degree of judgment much beyond Mr. Weft's year.
The rest it seeks, in fecking dies ;
And hurrying him, impatient of his stav, And doubts at last for knowledge rise.
Down to the roly Welt. But kindly still Lovely, lasting peace, appear;
Compensating his loss with aided hours This world ittelf, if thou art here,
Of focial converse and instructive case, Is once again with Eden bleft,
And gathering at thort notice in one group And man contains it in his breast.
The family dispers’d, and fixing thought 'Twas thus, as under Thade I stood,
Not less dispers’d by daylight and its cares, I sung my wishes to the wood,
I crown thee King of intimate delights, And, lost in thought, no more perceiv'd Fire-fide enjoyments, home-born happiness, The branches whisper as they way'd;
And all the comforts that the lowly roof It seem'd as all the quiet place
Of undisturb'd retirement, and the hours Confess’d the presence of his grace,
Of long uninterrupted evening know. When thus the spoke-Go rule thy will, No rattling wheels stop short before these gates ; Bid thy wild passions all be still,
No powder'd pert proficient in the art Know God and bring thy heart to know Of founding an alarm, affaults these doors The joys which from religion flow;
Till the street rings. No stationary steeds Then ev'ry grace shall prove its guest,
Cough their own knell, while heedless of the And I'll be there to crown the rest.
found Oh! by yonder moffy seat,
The Silent circle fan themselves, and quake; In my hours of fiveet retreat,
But here the needle plies its busy task. Might I thus my foul employ,
The pattern grows, the well-depicted flow'r, With sense of gratitude and joy ;
Wrought patiently into the frowy lawn, Rais'd as ancient prophets were,
Unfolds its bosom, buds, and leaves, and sprigs, In heav'nly vision, praise, and prayer;
And curling ti» drils, gracefully dispos'd, Pleasing all men, hurting nonc,
Follow the nimble finger of the fair, Pleas'd and bless'd with God alone;
A wreath that cannot fade, of Aow'rs that blow Then while the gardens take my sight,
With most success when all befides decay. With all the colours of delight!
The poet's or historian's page, by one While silver waters glide along,
Made vocal for th'amusement of the reft; To pleate my ear and court my song,
The sprightly lyre, whole trcature of fivcet I'll lift my voice and tune my string,
[out; And thee, Great Source of Nature, fing. The touch from many a trembling chord Inakes The fun that walks his airy way,
And the clear voice symphonious, yet diftinét, To light the world, and give the dav; And in the charming Itrife triumphant still, The moon that thines with borrow'd light; Beguile the night, and fet a kcener cdge The stars that gild the gloomy night;
On female industry ; the threaded itcel The feas that roll unnumber'd waves;
Flies tiviftly, and unfelt the task proceeds. The wood that spreads its shady leaves ; The volume clos'd, the customary rites The field whose cars conceal the grain,
Of the last mcal coininence: a Roman mcal, The yellow treasure of the plain ;
Such as the mistress of the world once found All of these, and all I foc,
Delicious, when her patriots of high note, Should be fung, and sung by me :
Perhaps by moon-light at their humble doors, They speak their Maker as they can,
And under an old oak's domeftic shade
Enjoy'd, spare feast! a radish and an egg.
Discourse ensues, not trivial, yet not dull, Your busy or your vain extremes ;
Nor luch as with a frown forbids the play And find a life of equal bliss,
Of fancy, or prescribes the found of mirth. Or own the next begun in this.
Nor do we madly, like an impious world,
That made them an intruder on their joys, 142. An Address to Winter. Cowper.
Start ar his awful name, or deem his praise OH H Winter ! ruler of th’inverted year, A jarring note. Themes of a graver tone
The scatter'd hair with flect like alhes fill'd, Exciting oft our gratitude and love, Thy breath congealid upon thy lips, thy chceks While we retrace with mcm'ry's pointing wand, Fring'd with a beard made white with other That calls the past to our exact review, snows
The dangers we have 'Icap'd, the broken snare, Than those of age; thy forehead wrapt in clouds, The disappointed fot, delivrance found A leaflcss branch thy sccptre, and thy throne Unlook'd for, life prcserv'd and peace restor’d, A sliding car indebted to no wheels,
Fruits of omnipotent éternal love. But urg'd by storing along its flipp’ry way ; Oh evenings worthy of the Gods ! exclaim'd I love thee, all unlovely as thou seein'st, The Sabine bard. 'Oh evenings, I reply, And drcaded as thou art. Thou hold'st the sun More to be priz’d and coveted than yours, A pris'ner in the yet undawning Eali,
As more illumin'd and with nobler truths, Short'ning his journey between morn and noon, 'That I and Mine, and those we love, enjov.
H h 4
$143. Liberty renders England preferable to other Nations, notwithstanding Taxes, &c. COWPER.
"TIS liberty alone that gives the flow'r
Of fleeting life its luftre and perfume,
To be the tenant of man's noble form.
But once enflay'd, farewell! I could endure
So when remote futurity is brought
The Poct's heart, he looks to diftant ftorms,
Seizes events as yet unknown to man,
145. Love Elegies. By
"TIS night, dead night; and o'er the plain
While wide along the gloomy fcene
Deep filence holds her folemn fway.
All nature refts; in Sleep's soft arms
The village fwain forgets his care:
And when the fun withdraws his rays,
Or cheerless through the defart strays;
For which our Hampdens and our Sidneys bled, To fome fuch drear and folemn scene,
I would at least bewail it under skies
In fcenes which having never known me free,
$144 Defcription of a Poet. CowWPER.
Acts with a force, and kindles with a zeal,
Some friendly power dirc&t my way,
My wifh, my hope, my all, is loft;
And brighten'd all the gloom of care;
Has drawn this vengeance on my head!
hy fhould Heav'n favour Lycon's claim?
That twenty fools had told before:
And claim'd no merit but by love. Have I not fat-ye confcious hours
Be witness-while my Stella fung From morn to eve, with all my powers Rapt in th'enchantment of her tongue! Ye confcious hours that faw me stand
Entranc'd in wonder and furprise, In filent rapture prefs her hand,
With paffion bursting from my eyes. Have I not lov'd-O earth and heav'n!
Where now is all my youthful boast? The dear exchange I hop'd was given,
For flighted fame and fortune loft; Where now the joys that once were mine? Where all my hopes of future blifs? Muft I those joys, those hopes resign ?
Is all her friendship come to this? Muft then each woman faithless prove,
And each fond lover be undone ? Are vows no more l-Almighty Love! The fad refemblance let me fhun ! It will not be-My honeft heart
The dear fad image ftill retains;
The dreadful memory remains,
Nor dare arraign your high decree.
Be Stella bleft! I ask no more.
But lo! where high in yonder caft
The ftar of morning mounts apace!
Joy after joy exceffive rife:
And Fame her golden trumpet blew ;
To each by turns my vows I paid,
As Folly led me to admire;
And Hope encreas'd each fond defire.
And learn'd the fond pursuit to fhun,
And Wealth had Terror for her gueft;,
And in a far fequester'd shade,
With mirthful eye and frolic mien
One with alone my foul could frame,
And worth, unconfcious of a stain,
And every hour was wing'd with joy.
Soon did the fad reverse appear;
(Fool that I was I blefs'd the smart)
Her mind as perfect as her face.
(Unhappy I, alas! the while)
And Heaven was open'd in her fimile!
She heard my fighs, the faw my tears,
She said the loy'd—and I, poor youth !
The dregs and fæculence of ev'ry land. (How soon, alas, can Hope persuade) In cities toul example on most minds Thought all the said no more than truth ;
Begets its likeness. Rank abundance breeds And all my love was well repaid.
In gross and pamper'd cities floth and luit, In jovs unknown to courts or kings,
And wantonness and gluttonness excess. With her I sat the live-long day,
In cities, vice is hidden with most ease, And said and look'd such tender things,
Or fecn with least reproach ; and virtue, taught As none bcfide could look or tay!
By frequent lapse, can hope no triumph there
Beyond th'archiavement of successful flight. How soon can Fortune thift the scene,
I do confess them nurs'ries of the arts, And all our earthly bliss destroy!
In which they flourish most; where, in the beains Care hovers round, and Grief's fell train Of warm encouragement, and in the eye Still treads upon the heels of Joy.
Of public note, they reach their perfećt size. My age's hope, my youth's best boast,
Such London is, by taste and wealth proclaim'd My soul's chief blessing, and my pride,
The faireft capital of all the world, In one fad moment all were lost,
By riot and incontinence the worft. And Daphne chang'd, and Thyrsis dy'd d There, touch'd by Reynolds, a dull blank beO! who, that heard her vows ere-while,
A lucid mirror, in which Nature fces [comes
All her reflected features. Bacon there
Gires more than female beauty to a stone,
And Chatham's cloquence to marble lips.
Vor docs thc chiflel occupy alone Yet the was falfc-my licart will break!
The pow'rs of sculpture, but the style as much: Her frauds, her perjuries were fuch- Each province of her art her cqual care. Soine other tongue than mine must spcak- With nice incision of her guided steel I have not power to say how much!
She ploughs a brazen field, and clothes a foil Ye fwains, hence warn'd, avoid the bait, So ferile with what charms foc'er she will,
Q thun her paths, the traitress thun! The richest fccn'ry and the loveliest forms. Hur voice is death, her smile is fate;
Where finds philofophy her eagle eye, Who hears or fees her is undone,
With which ihe gazes at yon burning disk
Undazzled, and detects and counts his spots ? And when Death's hand Mall close my eves
In London. Where her implements exact, (For foon, I know, the day will come)
With which she calculates, computes, and icans, O cheer my spirit with a high,
All distance, motion, magnitude, and now
Measures an atom, and now girds a world?
So rich, fo throng'd, so drain'd, and so supplied CONSIGN:D to dust, bencath this stone,
As London, opulent, enlarg'd, and still In manhood's prime, is Damon laid ; Incrcaling London ? Babylon of old Joyless he liv'd, and dy'd unknown,
Not inore the glory of the earth, then she in bleak misfortune's barren shade.
A more accomplish'd world's chief glory now, Lov'd by the Muse, but lov'd in vain :
She has her praite. Now mark a spot or two 'Twas beauty drew his ruin on ;
That so much beauty would do well to purge ; He saw young Daphine on the plain ;
And flew this queen of cities, that fo fair He lov'd, believ'd-and was undonc ! Vay yet be foul, 1o witty, yet not wise. His heart then funk beneath the itorm
It is not seemly, nor of goood report, (Sad meed of unexampl’d youth!)
That the is llack in in discipline : more prompt And Torrow, like an envious worm,
T'avenge than to prevent the breach of law. Devour'd the bloilom of his youth.
That she is rigid in denouncing death
On petiy robbers, and indulges life Bencath this stone the youth is laid
And liberty, and oft-times honor too, Ogreer his alhes with a tear!
To peculators of the public gold.
Into his overgorg'd and bloated purse
Nor is it well, nor can it come to good, $ 146. Great Cities, and London in particular, That, through profane and infidel contempt alloved their due Praise. CowPER.
Of holy writ, she has presum'd t'annul
And abrogotc, as roundly as she may, BUT tho' true worth and virtue, in the mild The total ordinance and will of God; And genial foil of cultivated life
Advancing fashion to the post of truth, Thrive most, and may perhaps thrive only there, And cent'ring all authority in modes Yet not in critics oft. In proud and gay And customs of her own, till Sabbath rites And gain-devoted cities : thither flow, Have dwindled into unrespected forms, As to a coinmon and moit noiloinc fcwer, And knces and hasocks are well-nigh divarç'd.