 | A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes |  |
ELEGIES.
By the Same.
ELEGY I.
Written at the Convent of Haut Villers in Champagne, 1754.
Silent and clear, thro' yonder peaceful vale,
While Marne's slow waters weave their mazy way,
See, to th'exulting sun, and fost'ring gale,
What boundless treasures his rich banks display!
While Marne's slow waters weave their mazy way,
See, to th'exulting sun, and fost'ring gale,
What boundless treasures his rich banks display!
Fast by the stream, and at the mountain's base,
The lowing herds thro' living pastures rove;
Wide-waving harvests crown the rising space;
And still superior nods the viny grove.
The lowing herds thro' living pastures rove;
Wide-waving harvests crown the rising space;
And still superior nods the viny grove.
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High on the top, as guardian of the scene,
Imperial Sylvan spreads his umbrage wide;
Nor wants there many a cot, and spire between,
Or in the vale, or on the mountain's side,
Imperial Sylvan spreads his umbrage wide;
Nor wants there many a cot, and spire between,
Or in the vale, or on the mountain's side,
To mark that Man, as tenant of the whole,
Claims the just tribute of his culturing care,
Yet pays to Heaven, in gratitude of soul,
The boon which Heaven accepts, of praise and prayer.
Claims the just tribute of his culturing care,
Yet pays to Heaven, in gratitude of soul,
The boon which Heaven accepts, of praise and prayer.
O dire effects of war! the time has been
When Desolation vaunted here her reign;
One ravag'd desart was yon beauteous scene,
And Marne ran purple to the frighted Seine.
When Desolation vaunted here her reign;
One ravag'd desart was yon beauteous scene,
And Marne ran purple to the frighted Seine.
Oft at his work the toilsome day to cheat
The swain still talks of those disastrous times,
When Guise's pride, and Condé's ill-star'd heat
Taught christian zeal to authorize their crimes:
The swain still talks of those disastrous times,
When Guise's pride, and Condé's ill-star'd heat
Taught christian zeal to authorize their crimes:
Oft to his children sportive on the grass
Does dreadful tales of worn Tradition tell,
Oft points to Epernay's ill-fated pass
Where Force thrice triumph'd, and where Biron fell.
Does dreadful tales of worn Tradition tell,
Oft points to Epernay's ill-fated pass
Where Force thrice triumph'd, and where Biron fell.
O dire effects of war!—may ever more
Thro' this sweet vale the voice of discord cease!
A British bard to Gallia's fertile shore
Can wish the blessings of eternal peace.
Thro' this sweet vale the voice of discord cease!
A British bard to Gallia's fertile shore
Can wish the blessings of eternal peace.
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Yet say, ye monks, (beneath whose moss-grown seat,
Within whose cloister'd cells th'indebted Muse
Awhile sojourns, for meditation meet,
And these loose thoughts in pensive strain pursues,)
Within whose cloister'd cells th'indebted Muse
Awhile sojourns, for meditation meet,
And these loose thoughts in pensive strain pursues,)
Avails it aught, that War's rude tumult spare
Yon cluster'd vineyard, or yon golden field,
If niggards to yourselves, and fond of care,
You slight the joys their copious treasures yield?
Yon cluster'd vineyard, or yon golden field,
If niggards to yourselves, and fond of care,
You slight the joys their copious treasures yield?
Avails it aught that Nature's liberal hand
With every blessing grateful man can know
Cloaths the rich bosom of yon smiling land,
The mountain's sloping side, or pendant brow,
With every blessing grateful man can know
Cloaths the rich bosom of yon smiling land,
The mountain's sloping side, or pendant brow,
If meagre Famine paint your pallid cheek,
If breaks the midnight bell your hours of rest,
If 'midst heart-chilling damps, and winter bleak,
You shun the cheerful bowl, and moderate feast!
If breaks the midnight bell your hours of rest,
If 'midst heart-chilling damps, and winter bleak,
You shun the cheerful bowl, and moderate feast!
Look forth, and be convinc'd! 'tis Nature pleads,
Her ample volume opens on your view,
The simple-minded swain, who running reads,
Feels the glad truth, and is it hid from you?
Her ample volume opens on your view,
The simple-minded swain, who running reads,
Feels the glad truth, and is it hid from you?
Look forth, and be convinc'd. Yon prospects wide
To Reason's ear how forcibly they speak,
Compar'd with those how dull is letter'd Pride,
And Austin's babbling Eloquence how weak!
To Reason's ear how forcibly they speak,
Compar'd with those how dull is letter'd Pride,
And Austin's babbling Eloquence how weak!
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Temp'rance, not Abstinence, in every bliss
Is Man's true joy, and therefore Heaven's command.
The wretch who riots thanks his God amiss:
Who starves, rejects the bounties of his hand.
Is Man's true joy, and therefore Heaven's command.
The wretch who riots thanks his God amiss:
Who starves, rejects the bounties of his hand.
Mark, while the Marne in yon full channel glides,
How smooth his course, how Nature smiles around!
But should impetuous torrents swell his tides,
The fairy landskip sinks in oceans drown'd.
How smooth his course, how Nature smiles around!
But should impetuous torrents swell his tides,
The fairy landskip sinks in oceans drown'd.
Nor less disastrous should his thrifty urn
Neglected leave the once well-water'd land,
To dreary wastes yon paradise would turn,
Polluted ooze, or heaps of barren sand.
Neglected leave the once well-water'd land,
To dreary wastes yon paradise would turn,
Polluted ooze, or heaps of barren sand.
ELEGY II. On the Mausoleum of AUGUSTUS.
To the Right Honourable George Bussy Villiers, Viscount Villiers. Written at Rome, 1756.
Amid these mould'ring walls, this marble round,
Where slept the Heroes of the Julian name,
Say, shall we linger still in thought profound,
And meditate the mournful paths to fame?
Where slept the Heroes of the Julian name,
Say, shall we linger still in thought profound,
And meditate the mournful paths to fame?
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What tho' no cypress shades, in funeral rows,
No sculptur'd urns, the last records of Fate,
O'er the shrunk terrace wave their baleful boughs,
Or breathe in storied emblems of the great;
No sculptur'd urns, the last records of Fate,
O'er the shrunk terrace wave their baleful boughs,
Or breathe in storied emblems of the great;
Yet not with heedless eye will we survey
The scene tho' chang'd, nor negligently tread;
These variegated walks, however gay,
Were once the silent mansions of the dead.
The scene tho' chang'd, nor negligently tread;
These variegated walks, however gay,
Were once the silent mansions of the dead.
In every shrub, in every flow'ret's bloom
That paints with different hues yon smiling plain,
Some Hero's ashes issue from the tomb,
And live a vegetative life again.
That paints with different hues yon smiling plain,
Some Hero's ashes issue from the tomb,
And live a vegetative life again.
For matter dies not, as the Sages say,
But shifts to other forms the pliant mass,
When the free spirit quits its cumb'rous clay,
And sees, beneath, the rolling Planets pass.
But shifts to other forms the pliant mass,
When the free spirit quits its cumb'rous clay,
And sees, beneath, the rolling Planets pass.
Perhaps, my Villiers, for I sing to Thee,
Perhaps, unknowing of the bloom it gives,
In yon fair scyon of Apollo's tree
The sacred dust of young Marcellus lives.
Perhaps, unknowing of the bloom it gives,
In yon fair scyon of Apollo's tree
The sacred dust of young Marcellus lives.
Pluck not the leaf—'twere sacrilege to wound
Th'ideal memory of so sweet a shade;
In these sad seats an early grave he found,
And the first rites to gloomy Dis convey'd.
Th'ideal memory of so sweet a shade;
In these sad seats an early grave he found,
And the first rites to gloomy Dis convey'd.
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Witness
thou Field of Mars, that oft hadst known
His youthful triumphs in the mimic war,
Thou heardst the heart-felt universal groan
When o'er thy bosom roll'd the funeral car.
His youthful triumphs in the mimic war,
Thou heardst the heart-felt universal groan
When o'er thy bosom roll'd the funeral car.
Witness
thou Tuscan stream, where oft he glow'd
In sportive strugglings with th'opposing wave,
Fast by the recent tomb thy waters flow'd
While wept the wise, the virtuous, and the brave.
In sportive strugglings with th'opposing wave,
Fast by the recent tomb thy waters flow'd
While wept the wise, the virtuous, and the brave.
O lost too soon!—yet why lament a fate
By thousands envied, and by Heaven approv'd.
Rare is the boon to those of longer date
To live, to die, admir'd, esteem'd, belov'd.
By thousands envied, and by Heaven approv'd.
Rare is the boon to those of longer date
To live, to die, admir'd, esteem'd, belov'd.
Weak are our judgments, and our passions warm,
And slowly dawns the radiant morn of truth,
Our expectations hastily we form,
And much we pardon to ingenuous youth.
And slowly dawns the radiant morn of truth,
Our expectations hastily we form,
And much we pardon to ingenuous youth.
Too oft we satiate on th'applause we pay
To rising Merit, and resume the Crown;
Full many a blooming genius, snatch'd away,
Has fallen lamented who had liv'd unknown.
To rising Merit, and resume the Crown;
Full many a blooming genius, snatch'd away,
Has fallen lamented who had liv'd unknown.
For hard the task, O Villiers, to sustain
Th'important burthen of an early fame;
Each added day some added worth to gain,
Prevent each wish, and answer every claim.
Th'important burthen of an early fame;
Each added day some added worth to gain,
Prevent each wish, and answer every claim.
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Be thou Marcellus, with a length of days!
But O remember, whatsoe'er thou art,
The most exalted breath of human praise
To please indeed must echo from the heart.
But O remember, whatsoe'er thou art,
The most exalted breath of human praise
To please indeed must echo from the heart.
Tho' thou be brave, be virtuous, and be wise,
By all, like him, admir'd, esteem'd, belov'd,
'Tis from within alone true Fame can rise,
The only happy, is the Self-approv'd.
By all, like him, admir'd, esteem'd, belov'd,
'Tis from within alone true Fame can rise,
The only happy, is the Self-approv'd.
ELEGY III. To the Right Honourable George Simon Harcourt, Visc. Newnham.
Written at Rome, 1756.
Yes, noble Youth, 'tis true; the softer arts,
The sweetly-sounding string, and pencil's pow'r,
Have warm'd to rapture even heroic hearts,
And taught the rude to wonder, and adore.
The sweetly-sounding string, and pencil's pow'r,
Have warm'd to rapture even heroic hearts,
And taught the rude to wonder, and adore.
For Beauty charms us, whether she appears
In blended colours; or to soothing sound
Attunes her voice; or fair proportion wears
In yonder swelling dome's harmonious round.
In blended colours; or to soothing sound
Attunes her voice; or fair proportion wears
In yonder swelling dome's harmonious round.
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All, all she charms; but not alike to all
'Tis given to revel in her blissful bower;
Coercive ties, and Reason's powerful call
Bid some but taste the sweets, which some devour.
'Tis given to revel in her blissful bower;
Coercive ties, and Reason's powerful call
Bid some but taste the sweets, which some devour.
When Nature govern'd, and when Man was young,
Perhaps at will th'untutor'd Savage rov'd,
Where waters murmur'd, and where clusters hung
He fed, and slept beneath the shade he lov'd.
Perhaps at will th'untutor'd Savage rov'd,
Where waters murmur'd, and where clusters hung
He fed, and slept beneath the shade he lov'd.
But since the Sage's more sagacious mind,
By Heaven's permission, or by Heaven's command,
To polish'd states has social laws assign'd,
And general good on partial duties plann'd,
By Heaven's permission, or by Heaven's command,
To polish'd states has social laws assign'd,
And general good on partial duties plann'd,
Not for ourselves our vagrant steps we bend
As heedless Chance, or wanton Choice ordain;
On various stations various tasks attend,
And Men are born to trifle or to reign.
As heedless Chance, or wanton Choice ordain;
On various stations various tasks attend,
And Men are born to trifle or to reign.
As chaunts the woodman whilst the Dryads weep,
And falling forests fear th'uplifted blow,
As chaunts the shepherd, while he tends his sheep,
Or weaves to pliant forms the osier bough,
And falling forests fear th'uplifted blow,
As chaunts the shepherd, while he tends his sheep,
Or weaves to pliant forms the osier bough,
To me 'tis given, whom Fortune loves to lead
Thro' humbler toils to life's sequester'd bowers,
To me 'tis given to wake th'amusive reed,
And sooth with song the solitary hours.
Thro' humbler toils to life's sequester'd bowers,
To me 'tis given to wake th'amusive reed,
And sooth with song the solitary hours.
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But Thee superior soberer toils demand,
Severer paths are thine of patriot fame;
Thy birth, thy friends, thy king, thy native land,
Have given thee honors, and have each their claim.
Severer paths are thine of patriot fame;
Thy birth, thy friends, thy king, thy native land,
Have given thee honors, and have each their claim.
Then nerve with fortitude thy feeling breast
Each wish to combat, and each pain to bear;
Spurn with disdain th'inglorious love of rest,
Nor let the syren Ease approach thine ear.
Each wish to combat, and each pain to bear;
Spurn with disdain th'inglorious love of rest,
Nor let the syren Ease approach thine ear.
Beneath yon cypress shade's eternal green
See prostrate Rome her wond'rous story tell,
Mark how she rose the world's imperial queen,
And tremble at the prospect how she fell!
See prostrate Rome her wond'rous story tell,
Mark how she rose the world's imperial queen,
And tremble at the prospect how she fell!
Not that my rigid precepts would require
A painful strugling with each adverse gale,
Forbid thee listen to th'enchanting Lyre,
Or turn thy steps from Fancy's flowery vale.
A painful strugling with each adverse gale,
Forbid thee listen to th'enchanting Lyre,
Or turn thy steps from Fancy's flowery vale.
Whate'er of Greece in sculptur'd brass survives,
Whate'er of Rome in mould'ring arcs remains,
Whate'er of Genius on the canvass lives,
Or flows in polish'd verse, or airy strains,
Whate'er of Rome in mould'ring arcs remains,
Whate'er of Genius on the canvass lives,
Or flows in polish'd verse, or airy strains,
Be these thy leisure; to the chosen few,
Who dare excel, thy fost'ring aid afford;
Their arts, their magic powers with honors due
Exalt; but be thyself what they record.
Who dare excel, thy fost'ring aid afford;
Their arts, their magic powers with honors due
Exalt; but be thyself what they record.
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ELEGY IV. To an OFFICER.
Written at Rome, 1756.
From Latian fields, the mansions of Renown,
Where fix'd the Warrior God his fated seat;
Where infant Heroes learnt the martial frown,
And little hearts for genuine glory beat;
Where fix'd the Warrior God his fated seat;
Where infant Heroes learnt the martial frown,
And little hearts for genuine glory beat;
What for my friend, my soldier, shall I frame?
What nobly glowing verse that breathes of arms,
To point his radiant path to deathless fame,
By great examples, and terrific charms?
What nobly glowing verse that breathes of arms,
To point his radiant path to deathless fame,
By great examples, and terrific charms?
Quirinus first, with bold, collected bands,
The sinewy sons of strength, for empire strove;
Beneath his thunder bow'd th'astonish'd lands,
And temples rose to Mars, and to Feretrian Jove.
The sinewy sons of strength, for empire strove;
Beneath his thunder bow'd th'astonish'd lands,
And temples rose to Mars, and to Feretrian Jove.
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War taught contempt of death, contempt of pain,
And hence the Fabii, hence the Decii come:
War urg'd the slaughter, tho' she wept the slain,
Stern War, the rugged nurse of virtuous Rome.
And hence the Fabii, hence the Decii come:
War urg'd the slaughter, tho' she wept the slain,
Stern War, the rugged nurse of virtuous Rome.
But not from antique fables will I draw,
To fire thy feeling soul, a dubious aid,
Tho' now, ev'n now, they strike with rev'rent awe,
By Poets or Historians sacred made.
To fire thy feeling soul, a dubious aid,
Tho' now, ev'n now, they strike with rev'rent awe,
By Poets or Historians sacred made.
Nor yet to thee the babling Muse shall tell
What mighty Kings with all their legions wrought,
What cities sunk, and storied nations fell
When Cæsar, Titus, or when Trajan fought,
What mighty Kings with all their legions wrought,
What cities sunk, and storied nations fell
When Cæsar, Titus, or when Trajan fought,
From private worth, and Fortune's private ways
Whilst o'er yon hill th'exalted Trophy shows
To what vast heights of incorrupted praise
The great, the self-ennobled Marius rose.
Whilst o'er yon hill th'exalted Trophy shows
To what vast heights of incorrupted praise
The great, the self-ennobled Marius rose.
From steep Arpinum's rock-invested shade,
From hardy Virtue's emulative school
His daring flight th'expanding Genius made,
And by obeying nobly learnt to rule.
From hardy Virtue's emulative school
His daring flight th'expanding Genius made,
And by obeying nobly learnt to rule.
Abash'd, confounded, stern Iberia groan'd,
And Afric trembled to her utmost coasts;
When the proud land its destin'd Conqueror own'd
In the new Consul, and his veteran hosts.
And Afric trembled to her utmost coasts;
When the proud land its destin'd Conqueror own'd
In the new Consul, and his veteran hosts.
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Yet Chiefs are madmen, and Ambition weak,
And mean the joys the laurel'd harvests yield,
If Virtue fail. Let Fame, let Envy speak
Of Capsa's walls, and Sextia's watry field.
And mean the joys the laurel'd harvests yield,
If Virtue fail. Let Fame, let Envy speak
Of Capsa's walls, and Sextia's watry field.
But sink for ever, in oblivion cast,
Dishonest triumphs, and ignoble spoils.
Minturnæ's Marsh severely paid at last
The guilty glories gain'd in civil broils.
Dishonest triumphs, and ignoble spoils.
Minturnæ's Marsh severely paid at last
The guilty glories gain'd in civil broils.
Nor yet his vain contempt the Muse shall praise
For scenes of polish'd life, and letter'd worth;
The steel-rib'd Warrior wants not Envy's ways
To darken theirs, or call his merits forth,
For scenes of polish'd life, and letter'd worth;
The steel-rib'd Warrior wants not Envy's ways
To darken theirs, or call his merits forth,
Witness yon Cimbrian Trophies!—Marius, there
Thy ample pinion found a space to fly;
As the plum'd eagle soaring sails in air,
In upper air, and scorns a middle sky.
Thy ample pinion found a space to fly;
As the plum'd eagle soaring sails in air,
In upper air, and scorns a middle sky.
Thence too thy country claim'd thee for her own,
And bade the Sculptor's toil thy acts adorn,
To teach in characters of living stone
Eternal lessons to the youth unborn.
And bade the Sculptor's toil thy acts adorn,
To teach in characters of living stone
Eternal lessons to the youth unborn.
For wisely Rome her warlike Sons rewards
With the sweet labours of her Artists' hands;
He wakes her Graces, who her empire guards,
And both Minervas join in willing bands.
With the sweet labours of her Artists' hands;
He wakes her Graces, who her empire guards,
And both Minervas join in willing bands.
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O why, Britannia, why untrophied pass
The patriot deeds thy godlike Sons display,
Why breathes on high no monumental brass,
Why swells no Arc to grace Culloden's Day?
The patriot deeds thy godlike Sons display,
Why breathes on high no monumental brass,
Why swells no Arc to grace Culloden's Day?
Wait we till faithless France submissive bow
Beneath that Hero's delegated spear,
Whose light'ning smote Rebellion's haughty brow,
And scatter'd her vile rout with horror in the rear?
Beneath that Hero's delegated spear,
Whose light'ning smote Rebellion's haughty brow,
And scatter'd her vile rout with horror in the rear?
O Land of Freedom, Land of Arts, assume
That graceful dignity thy merits claim;
Exalt thy Heroes like imperial Rome,
And build their virtues on their love of fame.
That graceful dignity thy merits claim;
Exalt thy Heroes like imperial Rome,
And build their virtues on their love of fame.
So shall the modest worth, which checks my friend,
Forget its blush when rous'd by Glory's charms;
From breast to breast the generous warmth descend,
And still new trophies rise, at once, to Arts, and Arms.
Forget its blush when rous'd by Glory's charms;
From breast to breast the generous warmth descend,
And still new trophies rise, at once, to Arts, and Arms.
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ELEGY V. To a FRIEND Sick.
Written at Rome, 1756.
'Twas in this
isle, O Wright indulge my lay,
Whose naval form divides the Tuscan flood,
In the bright dawn of her illustrious day
Rome fix'd her Temple to the healing God.
Whose naval form divides the Tuscan flood,
In the bright dawn of her illustrious day
Rome fix'd her Temple to the healing God.
Here stood his altars, here his arm he bared,
And round his mystic staff the serpent twin'd,
Through crowded portals hymns of praise were heard,
And victims bled, and sacred seers divin'd.
And round his mystic staff the serpent twin'd,
Through crowded portals hymns of praise were heard,
And victims bled, and sacred seers divin'd.
On every breathing wall, on every round
Of column, swelling with proportion'd grace,
Its stated seat some votive tablet found,
And storied wonders dignified the place.
Of column, swelling with proportion'd grace,
Its stated seat some votive tablet found,
And storied wonders dignified the place.
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Oft from the balmy blessings of repose,
And the cool stillness of the night's deep shade,
To light and health th'exulting Votarist rose,
Whilst fancy work'd with med'cine's powerful aid.
And the cool stillness of the night's deep shade,
To light and health th'exulting Votarist rose,
Whilst fancy work'd with med'cine's powerful aid.
Oft in his dreams (no longer clogg'd with fears
Of some broad torrent, or some headlong steep,
With each dire form Imagination wears
When harrass'd Nature sinks in turbid sleep)
Of some broad torrent, or some headlong steep,
With each dire form Imagination wears
When harrass'd Nature sinks in turbid sleep)
Oft in his dreams he saw diffusive day
Through bursting glooms its cheerful beams extend;
On billowy clouds saw sportive Genii play,
And bright Hygeia from her heaven descend.
Through bursting glooms its cheerful beams extend;
On billowy clouds saw sportive Genii play,
And bright Hygeia from her heaven descend.
What marvel then, that man's o'erflowing mind
Should wreath-bound columns raise, and altars fair,
And grateful offerings pay, to Powers so kind,
Tho' fancy-form'd, and creatures of the Air.
Should wreath-bound columns raise, and altars fair,
And grateful offerings pay, to Powers so kind,
Tho' fancy-form'd, and creatures of the Air.
Who that has writh'd beneath the scourge of pain,
Or felt the burthen'd languor of disease,
But would with joy the slightest respite gain,
And idolize the hand which lent him ease?
Or felt the burthen'd languor of disease,
But would with joy the slightest respite gain,
And idolize the hand which lent him ease?
To Thee, my friend, unwillingly to thee
For truths like these the anxious Muse appeals.
Can Memory answer from affliction free,
Or speaks the sufferer what, I fear, he feels?
For truths like these the anxious Muse appeals.
Can Memory answer from affliction free,
Or speaks the sufferer what, I fear, he feels?
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No, let me hope ere this in Romely grove
Hygeia revels with the blooming Spring,
Ere this the vocal seats the Muses love
With hymns of praise, like Pæon's temple, ring.
Hygeia revels with the blooming Spring,
Ere this the vocal seats the Muses love
With hymns of praise, like Pæon's temple, ring.
It was not written in the book of Fate
That, wand'ring far from Albion's sea-girt plain,
Thy distant Friend should mourn thy shorter date,
And tell to alien woods and streams his pain.
That, wand'ring far from Albion's sea-girt plain,
Thy distant Friend should mourn thy shorter date,
And tell to alien woods and streams his pain.
It was not written. Many a year shall roll,
If aught th'inspiring Muse aright presage,
Of blameless intercourse from Soul to Soul,
And friendship well matur'd from Youth to Age.
If aught th'inspiring Muse aright presage,
Of blameless intercourse from Soul to Soul,
And friendship well matur'd from Youth to Age.
ELEGY VI. To another FRIEND.
Written at Rome, 1756.
Behold, my friend, to this small
orb confin'd
The genuine features of Aurelius' face;
The father, friend, and lover of his kind,
Shrunk to a narrow coin's contracted space.
The genuine features of Aurelius' face;
The father, friend, and lover of his kind,
Shrunk to a narrow coin's contracted space.
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Not so his fame; for erst did heaven ordain
Whilst seas should waft us, and whilst suns should warm,
On tongues of men, the friend of man should reign,
And in the arts he lov'd the patron charm.
Whilst seas should waft us, and whilst suns should warm,
On tongues of men, the friend of man should reign,
And in the arts he lov'd the patron charm.
Oft as amidst the mould'ring spoils of Age,
His moss-grown monuments my steps pursue;
Oft as my eye revolves the historic page,
Where pass his generous acts in fair review,
His moss-grown monuments my steps pursue;
Oft as my eye revolves the historic page,
Where pass his generous acts in fair review,
Imagination grasps at many things,
Which men, which angels might with rapture see;
Then turns to humbler scenes its safer wings,
And, blush not whilst I speak it, thinks on thee.
Which men, which angels might with rapture see;
Then turns to humbler scenes its safer wings,
And, blush not whilst I speak it, thinks on thee.
With all that firm benevolence of mind,
Which pities, whilst it blames, th'unfeeling vain,
With all that active zeal to serve mankind,
That tender suffering for another's pain,
Which pities, whilst it blames, th'unfeeling vain,
With all that active zeal to serve mankind,
That tender suffering for another's pain,
Why wert not thou to thrones imperial rais'd?
Did heedless Fortune slumber at thy birth,
Or on thy virtues with indulgence gaz'd,
And gave her grandeurs to her sons of earth?
Did heedless Fortune slumber at thy birth,
Or on thy virtues with indulgence gaz'd,
And gave her grandeurs to her sons of earth?
Happy for thee, whose less distinguished sphere
Now cheers in private the delighted eye,
For calm Content, and smiling Ease are there,
And, Heav'n's divinest gift, sweet Liberty.
Now cheers in private the delighted eye,
For calm Content, and smiling Ease are there,
And, Heav'n's divinest gift, sweet Liberty.
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Happy for me, on life's serener flood
Who sail, by talents as by choice restrain'd,
Else had I only shar'd the general good,
And lost the friend the Universe had gain'd.
Who sail, by talents as by choice restrain'd,
Else had I only shar'd the general good,
And lost the friend the Universe had gain'd.
The Lyric Muse to Mr. MASON.
On the Recovery of the Right Honourable the Earl of Holdernesse from a dangerous Illness. By the Same.
Mason, snatch the votive Lyre,
D'Arcy lives, and I inspire.
'Tis the Muse that deigns to ask,
Can thy hand forget its task?
Or can the Lyre its strains refuse
To the Patron of the Muse?
D'Arcy lives, and I inspire.
'Tis the Muse that deigns to ask,
Can thy hand forget its task?
Or can the Lyre its strains refuse
To the Patron of the Muse?
Hark, what notes of artless love
The feather'd poets of the grove,
Grateful for the bowers they fill,
Warble wild on Sion hill;
In tuneful tribute duely paid
To the Master of the shade!
The feather'd poets of the grove,
Grateful for the bowers they fill,
Warble wild on Sion hill;
In tuneful tribute duely paid
To the Master of the shade!
And shall the Bard sit fancy-proof
Beneath the hospitable roof,
Where every menial face affords
Raptur'd thoughts that want but words?
And the Patron's dearer part,
The gentle sharer of his heart,
Wears her wonted charms again.
Time, that felt Affliction's chain,
Learns on lighter wings to move;
And the tender pledge of love,
Sweet Amelia, now is prest
With double transport to her breast.
Sweet Amelia, thoughtless why,
Imitates the general joy;
Innocent of care or guile
See the lovely Mimic smile,
And, as the heart-felt raptures rise,
Catch them from her Mother's eyes.
Beneath the hospitable roof,
59
Raptur'd thoughts that want but words?
And the Patron's dearer part,
The gentle sharer of his heart,
Wears her wonted charms again.
Time, that felt Affliction's chain,
Learns on lighter wings to move;
And the tender pledge of love,
Sweet Amelia, now is prest
With double transport to her breast.
Sweet Amelia, thoughtless why,
Imitates the general joy;
Innocent of care or guile
See the lovely Mimic smile,
And, as the heart-felt raptures rise,
Catch them from her Mother's eyes.
Does the noisy town deny
Soothing airs, and extacy?
Sion's shades afford retreat,
Thither bend thy pilgrim feet.
There bid th'imaginary train,
Coinage of the Poet's brain,
Not only in effects appear,
But forms, and limbs, and features wear.
Let festive Mirth, with flow'rets crown'd,
Lightly tread the measur'd round;
And Peace, that seldom knows to share
The Statesman's friendly bowl, be there;
While rosy Health, superior guest,
Loose to the Zephyrs bares her breast;
And, to add a sweeter grace,
Give her soft Amelia's face.
Soothing airs, and extacy?
Sion's shades afford retreat,
Thither bend thy pilgrim feet.
There bid th'imaginary train,
Coinage of the Poet's brain,
Not only in effects appear,
But forms, and limbs, and features wear.
Let festive Mirth, with flow'rets crown'd,
Lightly tread the measur'd round;
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The Statesman's friendly bowl, be there;
While rosy Health, superior guest,
Loose to the Zephyrs bares her breast;
And, to add a sweeter grace,
Give her soft Amelia's face.
Mason, why this dull delay?
Haste, to Sion haste away.
There the Muse again shall ask,
Nor thy hand forget its task;
Nor the Lyre its strains refuse
To the Patron of the Muse.
Haste, to Sion haste away.
There the Muse again shall ask,
Nor thy hand forget its task;
Nor the Lyre its strains refuse
To the Patron of the Muse.
| A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes | |