University of Virginia Library

O gratitude! impart thy wonted fire,
With warmth celestial all my breast inspire;
While calm reflection in her steady light,
Displays past favours to my mental sight.
With kindling glow I feel my soul expand,
Enjoy each gift, and bless each giver's hand;
Whilst round each eye the trembling drops appear,
Meek sign of grateful love, and joy sincere.

But where, my Muse! wilt thou begin? where end?
To thank each fair, each noble, gen'rous friend!
Forgive her, while her first unequal lays,
In vain, bright ------! attempt your praise:
Whom bounteous nature fram'd in lavish mood,
And lovely form with beauteous mind endu'd:
Not only gave a soft, enchanting face,
Attractive mien, or wit replete with grace;
But, wand'ring devious from her wonted plan,
To female softness join'd the sense of man.
As limpid streams soft, soothing murmurs yield,
And feed the teeming tree, and pregnant field;
So flows your sweet, improving eloquence,
It charms with music, and manures with sense;
While virtuous thoughts with learned art conjoin'd,
To views immortal wake the op'ning mind.
Your vig'rous fancy, like a fertile soil,
By judgment till'd, o'erpays the tiller's toil;
And, through your ever-fruitful pen, displays,
Fair wit and wisdom, in poetic phrase:
As full-grown orange-plants at once produce;
Leaves, flow'rs, and fruit, for pleasure and for use.

Britannia blessing, and by Britons blest,
Each public virtue glowing in his breast:
Shone hoary Bath, on life's remotest stage,
Those virtue's heighten'd with the stamp of age;
As antique coin, or statue, still appears
Advanc'd in value, as advanc'd in years.
He kindly deign'd my humble plaint to hear,
And bade his bounty stop the future tear.

Should gen'rous Lyttleton remain unsung,
Eternal silence seal my abject tongue:
Ev'n He who o'er those matchless scenes presides,
Where ev'ry muse and ev'ry grace abides;
And smiling dryads join with gentle fawns,
To shape the trees and mould the swelling lawns;
Ev'n He forgot a while the happy bow'rs,
Forgot his tuneful lyre's enchanting pow'rs;
To hear rude numbers from a village bard,
While praise and bounty prov'd his kind regard:
As if sweet Philomel from Hagley's grove,
O'er rugged rocks and barren wilds should rove;
And stop her own inimitable strain,
To hear a cooing mountain dove complain;
And call her from bleak hills, and dreary glades,
A denizon of Hagley's blissful shades.
His Brother too, whose courtly talents please,
His graceful dignity, his artless ease;
By radiant circles of the gay caress'd,
Whose true politeness crowns the social feast;
And finish'd manners happily combine,
With native sense, in camp, or court, to shine,
Tho' wont to kindle at the voice of war,
Pursuing, dreadless, grim Bellona's car,
Inur'd to trumpets sound, or cannons roar,
To dying groans, and floods of human gore;
Unmov'd on Fontenoy's embattl'd plain,
Mid gallic shouts and heaps of Britons slain;
He's form'd to relish more serene delight,
In verdant wood, or lawn, or fountain bright;
In warbling concert of the feather'd choir,
Or sweeter sounds that swell th' Aonian lyre:
Ev'n He preferr'd my muse's rural charms,
To rattling drums, and horrid clang of arms:
Nor only listen'd to her plaintive voice,
But o'er his bounty makes her pipe rejoice.
Nor He, the church's bright support and pride,
Did simple swain, or sylvan song, deride;
But stoop'd each homely moral truth to scan,
And prais'd the poet while he bless'd the man.
Nor Dudley Ward withheld a gladd'ning meed,
Nor his kind Heir despis'd the oaten reed;
But crown'd with gold, and boxen pipe, my lays.
A pipe that might inspire a nobler praise:
And, like fam'd Lyttelton, with gen'rous mind,
To bounty added favours unconfin'd,
A free recourse to many a learned tome,
And constant welcome to his friendly dome.

With equal honours, claiming equal praise,
A noble train demand my thankful lays;
That deign'd to hear me chaunt my mournful airs,
While balmy gifts asswag'd my wounding cares;
Worth, godlike worth! must in their bosoms dwell,
Whose rays of goodness chear the rural cell:
Inferior minds the syren pleasure seek,
And shun the throbbing breast, the humid cheek,
While squand'ring wealth, in idle, useless, toys,
Mischievous frolics, or delusive joys,
See want and misery haunt the gloomy cot,
Nor fancy swains deserve a better lot.

Should Martin's name unkindly rest forgot,
May endless ills infest my hapless cot!
Tho' unadorn'd with titles, pomp, or state,
No cringing vassals crowd his humble gate,
Yet truly noble is that gen'rous heart,
That, freely, could so rich a gift impart;
For, ravish'd by its aid, my eyes behold
The wonders of creative pow'r unfold;
In flow'r, and insect, heav'nly wisdom trace,
Or view bright Phœbus' maculated face;
Or pallid Luna's craggy disk descry,
Or horned Venus gild the western sky;
Old Saturn's ring, great Jove's attendant train,
Or twinkling orbs that stud the azure plain:
Or, o'er the painted wall, delighted, view
The soft-reflected landscape's chequer'd hue.

Nor frowning critics damp the muse's fire,
Nor drown, with clam'rous din, her feeble lyre,
While friends of taste and learning curb their spite,
And Hawkesworth in her praise vouchsafes to write;
As when, from hostile foes, a venom'd dart,
Invades with pungent pain some tender part,
Till skilful hands the arrow disengage,
While antidotes allay the poison's rage;
So shafts discharg'd by th' envious, heedless, blind,
Inflam'd, a while, and fester'd in my mind,
'Till kind applauses every pang suppress'd,
Clos'd every wound, and steel'd my daring breast.

Though some kind friends their names with care conceal,
Dispensing bounty from behind a veil;
As when the sun withdraws his gladsome light,
The honey-dews pervade the gloom of night;
With fair Aurora we the drops explore,
But see no hand that shed the luscious store.
Yet, tho' their names embellish not my lay,
The muse shall oft her grateful tribute pay;
Shall oft, with silent thanks, their goodness own,
While fervent pray'rs pursue each hand unknown.
Nor shall a grateful mem'ry of the past,
A slight impression make, a moment last,
Like those imperfect types by school-boy drawn,
Along the bosom of the snowy lawn,
That, smote by Titan's beams oblique, decay,
Or Boreas' blust'ring pinion puffs away.
Nor passion's blast, nor fretting foot of time,
No chance of fortune, and no change of clime,
Shall e'er erase, from my tenacious breast,
The sacred marks by Gratitude imprest:
But, as the marble monument retains
Each symbol graven on it's polish'd planes,
Still faithful to each dead, or living, fame,
While its uninjur'd form remains the same;
So shall my honest heart maintain its trust,
Till the soft substance moulders into dust.

But shall my soul, while earth-born gifts inspire,
Return no thanks to her Almighty Sire?
From His stupendous love all blessings flow,
That sweeten life, or blunt the edge of woe.
Within the womb I felt his forming hand,
And life, and light, enjoy'd at his command.
He lodg'd my food within the fost'ring breast,
And each successive year his bounty blest.
He planted, fed, and rear'd, each virtuous thought,
By learned volumes tut'ring schools untaught;
Unveiling, by that light, to heedless youth,
The sweets of piety, the charms of truth.
He fledg'd my youthful fancy's vent'rous wing,
Inform'd her flight, and taught her voice to sing.
He warm'd the social breast with kindred love,
To ease that heart where want with virtue strove.
He prompts my mind to chaunt the grateful song,
Nor snatch a blessing like the thankless throng.
He sent illumin'd saints those truths to teach,
No stretch of human wisdom e'er could reach;
For man's offences gave his Son to die,
To purchase man a title to the sky;
Thence gives me faith his future care to crave,
And lift a fearless look beyond the grave.
Then, O great God! forgive a mortal song;
Thy praise unfinish'd flows from Seraph's tongue:
Yet wilt thou lend a kind paternal ear,
Invok'd by songs of love, and filial fear:
Then hear, all-knowing Pow'r! eternal King!
Accept my pious fervour while I sing;
O pardon me! if Care, or Lust, or Pride,
Unduly lure my cheated thoughts aside:
Vouchsafe, my soul, celestial joys may share,
And endless years, thy endless praise declare.