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She strikes rebounding; whence the shatter'd oak The troubled mind's fantastic dress,
So fierce a shock unable to withstand, Which madness titles Happiness ;
Admits the sea ; in at the gaping tide While the gay wretch to revels bears
The crowding waves ruth with inipetuous rage, The pale remains of figlis and tears;
Refiltless, overwhelming! Horrors seize And seeks in crowds, like her undone,
The mariners; death in their eyes appears; What only can be found in one.
They ftare, they rave, they pump, they swear, But chief, my gentle friend ! remove
they pray;

Far from thy couch seducing Love:
(Vain efforts!) still the batt’ring waves rush in, Oh thun thé false magician's art
Implacable; till, delug'd by the foam, Nor trust thy yet unguarded heart!
The thip links found'ring in the vait abyss. Charm'd by his spells fair Honour flies,

And thousand treach’rous phantoms rise ;

Where Guilt in Beauty's ray beguiles, $ 100. An Epistle to a Lady. NUGENT.

And Ruin lurks in Friendship's ímiles. CLARINDA, dearly loved, attend

Lo! where th' enchanting captive dreams The counsels of a faithful friend; of warbling groves and purling streams; Who, with the warmest wishes fraught, Of painted meads, of flow'rs that shed Feels all, at least, that friend inip cught! Their odours round her fragrant bed: But since, by ruling Heaven's defign,

Quick shifts the fcene, the charm is loft, Another's fate shall infiuence thine;

She wakes upon a desert coast;
Oh may these lines for lim prepare, No friendly hand to lend its aid,
A bliss, which I would die to share! No guardian bow'r to spread its shade;

Man may for wealth or glory roam, Expos'd to ev'ry chilling blaft,
But woman must be blest at home;

She treads th' inhospitable waste; To this should all her studies tend,

And down the drear decline of life This her great object and her cnd.

Sinks, a forlorn, dishonour'd wife. Distafte unmingled pleasures bring,

Neglect not thou the voice of Fame, And use can blunt Amfiction's sting; But, clear from crime, be free from blame! Hence perfect bliss no mortals know, Tho' all were innocence within, And few are plung'd in utter woe:

'Tis guilt to wear the garb of sin; While Nature, arni'd against Despair, Virtue rejects the foul disguise : Gives pow'r to mend, or strength to bear; None merit praise who praise despise. And half the thought content may gain, Slight not, in supercilious ftrain, Which spleen employs to purchase pain. Long practis'd modes, as low or vain ! Trace not the fair domestic plan

The world will vindicate their cause, From what you would, but what you can! And claim blind faith in Cuftom's laws. Nor, peevish, spurn the scanty store,

Safer with multitudes to stray, Because you think you merit more!

Than tread alone a fairer way: Bliss ever differs in degree,

To mingle with the erring throng,
Thy share alone is meant for thee;

Than boldly speak ten millions wrong.
And thou shouidit think, however small, Beware of the relentless train
That share enough, for 'tis thy all:

Who forms adore, whom forms maintain! Vain scorn will aggravate dittrels,

Left prudes demure, or coxcombs loud, And only make that little less.

Accuse thee to the partial crowd; Admit whatever trifles come;

Foes who the laws of honour flight, Units compose the largest sum:

A judge wlio measures guilt by spite. Oh tell them o'er, and say how vain

Behold the sage Aurelia stand,
Are those who form Ambition's train; Disgrace and fame at her command;
Which swell the monarch's gorgeous itate, As if Heaven's delegate delign'd,
And bribe to ill the guilty great!

Sole arbiter of all her kind.
But thou, more biell, more wise than there, Whether the try some favour'd piece
Shalt build up happiness on ease.

By rules devis d in ancient Greece;
Hail, sweet Content! where joy terene Or whether, modern in her flight,
Gilds the mild soul's unruffed scene; She tells what Paris thinks polite:
And, with blithe Fancy's pencil wrought, For much, her talents to advance,
Spreads the white web of flowing thought, She studied Greece, and travellid France;
Shines lovely in the cheerful face,

There learn'd the happy art to please And clothes each charm with native grace; With all the charms of labour'd ease; Effution pure of bliss fincere,

Thro' looks and nods, with meaning fraugkt, A vestment for a god to wear.

To teach what she was never taught. Far other ornaments compose

By her each latent spring is seen; The garb that shrouds dillembled woes, The workings foul of secret fpleen; Piec'd out with motley dyes and forts, The guilt that sulks in fair pretence; Freaks, whimsies feftivals, and sports: Or folly veil'd in fpecious sense.


And much her righteous fpirit grieves, Too various for one single word,
When worthletiness the world deceives; The high sublime of decp absurd:
Whether the erring crowd commends While ev'ry talent nature grants
Some patriot sway'd by private ends; Just serves to thew how much she wants.
Or huiband truft a faithless wife,

Altho' in -combine
Secure, in ignorance, from strife.

The virtues of our sex and thine: Averse the brings their deeds to view,

Her hand restrains the widow's tears; But justice claims the rig 'rous due;

Her sense informs, and sooths, and chaers : Humanely anxious to produce

Yet, like an angel in disguise, At least tome pollible excuse.

She shines but to some favour'd eyes; Oh ne'er may virtue's dire disgrace

Nor is the distant herd allow'd Prepare a trumph for the bale!

To view the radiance thro' the cloud. Mere forms the fool implicit sway,

But thine is ev'ry winning art; Which witlings with contempt survey; Thine is the friendly, honest heart; Blind foily no defe&t can fee,

And should the gen'rous spirit flow Half wisdom views but one degree.

Beyond where prudence fears to go;
The wise remoter uses reach,

Such fallies are of nobler kind
Which judgment and experience teach. Than virtues of a narrow mind.
Whoever would be pleas'd and please,
Must do what others do with ease.

§ 101. Alexander's Feast; or the Power of Mufic, Great precept, undefin'd by rule,

An Ode on St. Cecilia's Day. DRYDEN.
And only learn 'd in Custoin's school;
To no peculiar form confin’d,

was at the royal feast, for Persia won,

By Philip's warlike son:
It sprearts thro' all the human kind;

Aloft in awful state Beauty, and wit, and worth supplies,

The godlike hero late Yet graceful in the good and wise.

On his imperial throne: Rich with this gift, and none betide,

His valiant peers were plac d around; In Fashion's stream how many glide ! Secure from ev'ry mental woe,

Their brows with roles and with myrtle bound;

So should defert in arms be crown'd. From treaclı'rous friend or open foe;

The lovely Thais by his fide
From fucial fympathy, that shares
The public loss or private cares ;

Sat, like a blooming eastern bride,

In Row'r of youth and beauty's pride. Whether the barb'rous foe invade,

Happy, happy, happy, pair; Or Merit pine in Fortune's shade.

None but the brave, Hence gentle Anna, ever gay,

None but the brave, The same to-morrow as to-day,

None but the brave deserves the fair, Save where, perchance, when others weera Her check the decent forrow steep;

Timotheus, plac'd on high Sıve when, perhaps, a melting tale

Amid the tuneful choir, O'er ev'ry tender brealt prevail :

With tlying fingers touch'd the lyre: The good, the bad, the great, the small,

The trembling notes afcend the iky, She likes, the loves, the honours all.

And heavenly joys inspire. And yet, if fland'rous malice blame,

The song from Jove: Patient she yields a fifter's fame.

Who left his blissful leats above, Alike if fati e or if praise,

Such is the pow'r of mighty love! She wys whate'er the circle says;

A dragon's fiery form belied the god: Implicit does whate'er they do,

Sublime on radiant (plieres he rode, Without one point in wish or view,

When he to tair Olympia pressid, Sure teit of others, faithful glass,

And stamp'd an image ot' himrelt, a fovereign

of the world.Thro' which the various phantoms passe Wide blank, unfeeling when alone;

The liftining crowd admire the lofty sound; No care, no joy, no thought her own.

A prefent deity, the vaulted roots rebound;

With ravitbd ears
Not thus succeeds the peerless dame,
Who looks and talks, and acts for fame ;

The monarch hears,
In:ent so wide her cares extend,

Assumes the god, To make the universe her friend,

Affects to nod, Now with the gay in frolics thines,

And seems to shake the spheres. Now reasons deep with deep divines : The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician Witb courtiers now extols the great,

fung; With patriots fighs o'er Britain's fate :

Of Bacchus, ever fair and ever young: Now breathes with zealots holy fires,

The jolly god in triumph cuines ; Now melts in less refind desires :

Sound the trumpets, beat the drums; Doom'd to exceed in each degree,

Fluth'd with a purple grace Too wise, too weak, too prowd, too free ;

He thews his honelt face,


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Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries,

Bacchus, ever fair and young, [comes ! See the furies arise,
Drinking joys did first ordain :

See the snakes that they rear,
Bacchus' blessings are a treasure,

How they hiss in the air,
Drinking is the soldier's pleasure ; And the sparkles that fath from their eyes!
Rich the treasure,

Behold a ghastly band,
Sweet the pleasure ;

Each a torch in his hand, [hain,
Sweet is pleasure after pain.

These are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were Sooth'd with the sound, the king grew vain ;

And unburied remain Fought all his battles o'er again;

Inglorious on the plain; And thrice he routed all his foes; and thrice

Give the vengeance due he New the flain.

To the valiant crew: The maiter saw the madness rise:

Behold how they toss their torches on high, His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes;

How they point to the Persian abodes, And, while he heaven and earth defied, And glitt'ring temples of their boftile gods! Chang'd his hand, and check'd his pride.

The Princes applaud, with a furious joy; He chose a mournful muse,

And the King seiz'd a flambeau with zeal, to Soft pity to infuse:

Thais led the way,

(deftroyi He sung Darius great and good,

To light him to his prey, By too severe a fate,

And, like another Helen, fir'd another Troy. Fall'n, fall'n, fall'n, fall'n,

Thus, long ago, Fall'n from his high estate,

Ere heaving bellows learnt to blow, And welt'ring in his blood;

While organs yet were myte; Deserted at his utmost need

Timotheus to his breathing flute By those his former bounty fed,

And founding lyre

[fire, On the bare earth expos'd he lies,

Could swell the foul to rage, or kindle soft de With not a friend to close his eyes,

At last divine Cecilia came, With downcast look the joyless victor sate,

Inventress of the vocal frame; Revolving in his alter'd soul

The sweet enthusiast, from her facred store, The various turns of fate below;

Enlarg'd the former narrow bounds, And now and then a figh he stole;

And added length to solemn sounds

, And tears began to flow.

With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown The mighty master smil'd, to see

Let old Timotheus yield the prize, [before. That love was in the next degree :

Or both divide the crown; 'Twas but a kindred sound to move;

He rais'd a mortal to the skies,
For pity melts the mind to love.

She drew an angel down.
Softly sweet, in Lydian measures,
Soon' he sooth'd his soul to pleasures.

§ 102. An Epifle from Mr. Phillips to tbe Earl of

Dorset." Copenhagen, March 9, 1709.
War he sung is toil and trouble ;
Honour but an empty bubble ;

'ROM frozen climes, and endlesstracts of snow,

From streams that northern winds forbid to
Never ending, Aill beginning,

flow. Fighting still, and still destroying: If the world be worth thy winning,

What present shall the Muse to Dorset bring, Think, oh think it worth enjoying !

Or how, so near the Pole, attempt to fing? Lovely Thais sits beside thee,

The hoary winter here conceals from fight Take the good the gods provide thee,

All pleasing objects that to verse invite. The many rend the skies with loud applause ; The flow ry plains, and filver ftreaming foods

The hills and dales, and the delightful woods, So love was crown'd, but music won the cause. By snow disguis'a, in bright confufion lie, The prince, unable to conceal his pain,

And with one dazzling waste fatigue the eyes Gaz'd on the fair Who caus'd his care,

Nogentle breathing breeze prepares the spring, And figh'd and look’d, figh'd and look'd, The Thips, unmov'd, the boilt rous winds dessa

Sigh’d and look'd, and figh'd again:
At length, with love and wine at once oppress’d, The vast Leviathan wants room to play,

While rattling chariots o'er the ocean fly. The vanquish'd victor sunk upon her breast.

And spout his waters in the face of day. Now strike the golden lyre again; The starving wolves along the main fea prowh, And louder, yet, and yet a louder strain. And to the moon in icy valleys howl. Break his bands of fleep asunder, For many a shining league the level main, And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Here spreads itself into a glassy plain : Hark, hark, the horrid sound

There solid billows, of enormous fize, Has rais'd up his head,

Alps of green ice, in wild disorder rise

. As awak'd from the dead,

And yet but lately have I seen, e'en here, And amaz'd, he ftares around!

The winter in a lovely dress appear.


Ere yet the clouds let fall the treasur'd snow, She visits oft the hamlet cot,
Or winds begun thro' hazy skies to blow, When Want and Sorrow are the lot
At ev'ning a keen eastern breeze arose; Of Avarice and me.
And the descending rain unsullied froze. But see-or is it Fancy's dream ?
Soon as the filent shades of night withdrew, Methought a bright celestial gleanı
The ruddy morn disclos'd at once to view Shot ludden thro' the groves ;
The face of nature, in a rich disguise. Behold, behold, in loose array,
And brighten'd ev'ry object to my eyes : Euphrolyne, more bright than day,
For ev'ry shrub, and ev'ry blade of grass, More mild than Paphian doves!
Andev'rypointed thorn, seem'dwrought in glass; Welcome, oh welcome, Pleasure's queen!
In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorns show, And see, along the velvet green
While thro' the ice the crimson berries glow.

The jocund

train advance : The thick-sprung reeds the wat’ry marshes yield with scatter'd flow'rs they fill the air ; Seem polith d lances in a hostile field.

The wood-nymph's dew-bespangled hair
The flag, in limpid currents, with surprise

Plays in the sportive dance.
Sees cryftal branches on his forehead rise.
The spreadingoak, the beech, and tow'ring pine, Ah! baneful grant of angry. Heaven,
Glaz'd over, in the freezing æther shine.

When to the feeling wretch is given
The frighted birds the rattling branches fhun,

A soul alive to joy! That wave and glitter in the distant sun.

Joys fly with every hour away, When, if a sudden gult of wind arise,

And leave th' unguarded heart a prey
The brittle forest into atoms flies :

To cares that peace destroy.
The crackling wood beneath the tempelt bends, and fee, with visionary hafte
And in a spangled show'r the prospect ends; (Too soon) the gay delufion paft,
Or, if a southern gale the region warm,

Reality remains ?
And by degrees unbind the wintry charm, Despair has seiz'd my captive soul ;
The traveller a miry country sees,

And horror drives without controul,
And journeys sad beneath the dropping trees. And flackens still the reins.

Like some deluded peasant Merlin leads Ten thousand beauties round me throng;
Thro' fragrant bow'rs, and thro'delicious meads; What beauties, say, ye nymphs, belong
While here enchanting gardens to him rise,

To the distemperd soul?
And airy fabrics there attract his eyes, I see the lawn of hideous dye ;
His wand'ring feet the magic paths pursue ; The towering elm nads mifery ;
And, while he thinks the fair illusion true,

With groans the waters roll.
The trackless scenes disperle in fluid air,
And woods, and wilds, and thorny ways appear; Ye vivid tints of Persia's looms,

Ye gilded roofs, Palladian domes,
A tedious road the weary wretch returns,
And, as be goes, the transient vision mourns.

Ye were for misery made.-
'Twas thus the Man of Sorrow spoke ;
His wayward step then pensive took

Along th' unhallow'd shade. § 103. The Man of Sorrow. GREVILLE.

$ 104. Monody to the Memory of a Young Lady. A"what avails the lengthening mead,

SHAW. By Nature's kindest bounty ipread Along the vale of flow'rs!

YET do I live ? Oh how shall I fustain Ah! what avails the darkening grove,

This vait unutterable weight of woe ? Or Philomel's melodious love,

This worse than hunger, poverty, or pain, That glads the midnight hours !

Or all the complicated ills below?

She, in whose life my hopes were treasur'd all, For me, alas ! the god of day,

Is gone--for ever RedNe'er glitters on the hawthorn spray,

My dearest Emma's dead; Nor night her comfort brings:

These eyes, these tear-Iwoln eyes beheld her fall. I have no pleasure in the role;

Ai no--the lives on some far happier Nore, For me no vernal beauty blows,

She lives—but (cruel thought !) the lives for me Nor Philomela sings.

no more. See how the sturdy peasants stride

1, who the tedious absence of a day [fight; Adown yon hillock's verdant fide,

Remov'd, would languish for my charmer's In cheerful ign'rance bleft!

Would chide the lingering moments for delay, Alike to them the rose or thorn,

And fondly blame the flow return of night ; Alike arises every morn,

How, how shall I endure By gay Contentment drest.

(O misery past a cure !) Content, fair daughter of the skies, Hours, days, and years, succellively to roll, Or gives spontaneous, or denies,

Nor ever more behold the comfort of my soul? Her choice divinely free :


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Was the not all my fondelt with could frame? But, ah ! in vain-no change of time or

Did ever mind so much of heaven partake? The memory can efface (place Did she not love me with the pureit fiame ? Of all that sweetness, that enchanting air, And give up friends and fortune for my fake? Now loft; and nought remains but anguish and Though mild as evening skies,

despair. With downcast, streaming eyes, Where were the delegates of Heav'n, oh where Stond the itern frown of supercilious brows, Appointed Virtue's children tafe to keep? Deaf to their brutal threats, and faithful to her Had Innocence or Virtue been their care,

She had not died, nor had I liv'd to weep: Come then, some Muse, the saddest of the train Mov'd by my tears, and by her patience mor’d,

(No more your bard shall dwell on idie lays) To lée or force th: endearing smile, Teach me each moving melancholy strain,

My sorrows to beguile, And oh, discard the pageantry of phrase : When Torture's keenest rage the prov'd ; Ill suit the tow'rs of ipeech with woes like mine! Sure they had warded that untimely dart, Thus, haply, as I paint

Which broke her thread of life, and rent a bus. The fource of my complaint,

bands' heart. My soul may own th' impaffion'd line :

How shall I e'er forget that dreadful hour, A slood of tears may gush to my relief, (of grief. When, feeling Death's refiftiess pow'r. And from my telling heart discharge this load. My hand she preis’d, wet with her falling tears, Forbear, my fond oflicious friends, forbear And thus, in fa't'ring accents, spoke her fears:

To wound my ears with the fad tales you tell;" Ah, my lov'd lord, the transient scene is o'er, “How gond the was, how gentle, and how fair!" "And we must part, alas ! to meet no more!

In pity ceale--alas! I know too well “ But oh! it e'er thy Emma's name was dear, How in her sweet expressive face

“ If e'er thy vows have charm'd my ravish'd Beam'd forti: the beauties of her mind, Yet heightend by exterior grace,

“ If, from thy lov'd embrace my heart to gain, Of manners mof engaging, most refind! “ Proud friends have frown'd, and Fortune

“ smil'd in vain ; No pitestis obje&t could she lee, But her soit borom shar'd the woe,

“ If it has been my sole endeavour ftill While (miles of affability

" To act in all obsequious to thy will ; Endear'd whatever boon ihe might bestow.

“ To watch thy very sinjles, thy with to know, Whate'er th' emotions of her heart,

“ Then only truly bleft when thou wert lo; Still Mhone confpicuous in her

“ If I have doated with that fond excess,

eyes, Stranger to every female art,

" Nor Love could add, nor Fortune make it less; Alike to feign or to disguise :

" If this I've done, and more-oh then be kind And, oh the boast how rare !

“ To the dear lovely babe I leave behind. The secret in her faithful breast repos'd

" When time my once-lov'd memory shall efface

, She ne'er with lawless tongue disclos'd,

“ Some happier maid may take thy Emma's In ieciet lilence lodg'il inviolate there.

"place, Oh feeble words -unable to exprefs

" With envious eyes thy partial fondness fee, Her matchleís virtues, or my own distress !

“ And hate it, for the love thou bor it to me :

My dearest Shaw, forgive a woman's fears ; Relentless death ! that, steel'd to human woe, “ But one word more-I cannot bearthy tearsWith murd'rous hands deals havoc on man-“ Promile and I will trust thy faithful vow kind.

“ (Oft have I tried, and ever found thee true) Why (cruel!) ftrike this deprecated blow, " That to some distant fpot thou wilt remove

And leave fuch wretched multitudes behind ?" This fatal pledge of hapless Emma's love, Hark! groans come wing'd on ev'ry breeze ! “ Where la fe thy' blandiments it may partake

, The tons of grief prefer their ardent vow, “ And, oh! be tender, for ita mother's lake. Oppre!s'd with forrow, want, or dire disease, “ Wilt thou ?

And supplicate thy aid, as I do now: " I know thou wit-fad filence speaks assent; In vain-perverie, still on th' unweeting head f« And, in that pleasing hope, thy Emma dies 'Tis thine thy vengetu! darts to fhed;

“ content." Hone's btint blofioms to destroy, And drench in tears the face of joy.

I, who with more than manly strength have bore

The various ills impcs'd by cruel Fate,
Fut oh, fell tyrant! yet expc&t the hour Sustain the firmness of my foul no more,
Wilien Virinse thail renounce thy pow'r ; But sink beneath the weight:
When thou nomure Mall blot the face of day, Just Heaven! I cried, from memory's earließt
Ivor morta's treinbic at thy rigid sway. Nocomfort has thy wretched fuppliını known;
Alas the day!--where'er I turn my eyes, Misfortune ftill, with unrelenting (way,

Sojurile memento of my loss appears; Has claim'd me for her own.
I hytie fatal houle-suppreis my fighs, Bitoli in pity to my grief, restore
Kuiviv'd to dry my unavailing tears :

This only fource orbiils; Lalk-I aik no more



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