Poems on Several Occasions By The Reverend John Langhorne |
 |
ELEGY
From the Country to two Ladies
in Town. |
 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
36
ELEGY From the Country to two Ladies in Town.
Joy crown your Hours, Ye gentle Ladies twain!
And Pleasance blithe your laughing Moments lead!
So might You not the humble Bard disdain,
That breathes his wild Notes from the lowly Reed.
And Pleasance blithe your laughing Moments lead!
So might You not the humble Bard disdain,
That breathes his wild Notes from the lowly Reed.
So might you now the weeping Muse forgive,
That pours her Plaint to Ladies' gentle Ear;
For other off'ring none has She to give,
Save the sad Accent, or the joyless Tear.
That pours her Plaint to Ladies' gentle Ear;
For other off'ring none has She to give,
Save the sad Accent, or the joyless Tear.
37
The jocund Reed that tun'd the lively Lay,
And with the wood-Lark wak'd the morning Song,
Now, all to waste the slowly-wending Day,
In dull Notes drives the leaden Hours along.
And with the wood-Lark wak'd the morning Song,
Now, all to waste the slowly-wending Day,
In dull Notes drives the leaden Hours along.
Since She, whose Genius o'er this Furze-wild Plain,
At Eve, or Morn, led forth the Graces fair,
Play'd round the Heart with Humour's pleasing Vein,
Or soar'd with Fancy thro' the Fields of Air.
At Eve, or Morn, led forth the Graces fair,
Play'd round the Heart with Humour's pleasing Vein,
Or soar'd with Fancy thro' the Fields of Air.
Since She no more, beneath the Moon's mild Ray,
With Sounds harmonious wakes the slumbering Vale;
Nor Black-bird, listening from his nightly Spray,
In rival Strains renews his amorous Tale.
With Sounds harmonious wakes the slumbering Vale;
Nor Black-bird, listening from his nightly Spray,
In rival Strains renews his amorous Tale.
38
Ah! who shall now, from
Hawdon's melting Lays,
Swell the sweet Strain — the dying Cadence draw;
With Melody divine the rapt Soul raise,
Nor leave confin'd one ling'ring Thought below?
Swell the sweet Strain — the dying Cadence draw;
With Melody divine the rapt Soul raise,
Nor leave confin'd one ling'ring Thought below?
In vain new Life the genial Seasons bring,
The Green Groves bloom, the laughing Flow'rs arise;
Can all the Beauties of the breathing Spring
Smile thro' the Tears of these distressful Eyes?
The Green Groves bloom, the laughing Flow'rs arise;
Can all the Beauties of the breathing Spring
Smile thro' the Tears of these distressful Eyes?
The Stream slow-fretting o'er the Time-worn Stone;
The choral Song, the Garden's bloomy Boast,
Ah what avail! — Can these Delights atone
For sweeter Strains, for fairer Beauties lost?
The choral Song, the Garden's bloomy Boast,
39
For sweeter Strains, for fairer Beauties lost?
Yet, tho' Augusta boast her Latian Choirs,
Her warbling Train from Arno's silver Side;
Tho' glowing Art her Sons of Glory fires,
And golden Pleasure rolls her mazy Tide;
Her warbling Train from Arno's silver Side;
Tho' glowing Art her Sons of Glory fires,
And golden Pleasure rolls her mazy Tide;
Yet cannot Nature equal Pleasures yield,
Where flows the Wood-Lark's Music unconfin'd?
In the gay Vesture of yon painted Field,
Where beams the Beauty of the perfect mind?
Where flows the Wood-Lark's Music unconfin'd?
In the gay Vesture of yon painted Field,
Where beams the Beauty of the perfect mind?
With Love of him, with Love of Nature fir'd,
O haste from London's noisy Haunts away!
At Ease in ---'s humble Vale retir'd,
Reap the calm Blessings of the peaceful Day.
O haste from London's noisy Haunts away!
At Ease in ---'s humble Vale retir'd,
Reap the calm Blessings of the peaceful Day.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |