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Tho' Crowds, litigious, to the Town resort,
And eager Clients fill the noisy Court,
You Cryer,—silence yonder buzzing Throng;
Be hush'd the Bar, for Lelius reads my Song.
Let Oaks and Acres undetermin'd stand,
No Cause be mov'd but of Poetic Land;
Parnassian Palms shall money'd Suits retard,
And Jones in forma pauperis be heard:
Whilst he, still anxious for the Sentence, fears
His Loss of Laurels as a Loss of Ears:
Yet on his Judge's Friendship would depend;
But he in judging never knows a Friend.
Of Wit and Wealth impartial weighs the Claim;
What Mulct more grievous than a Fine on Fame?
Yet that, e'en that, I'll bear, if he decide,
Who heals my Weakness, whilst he wounds my Pride.
Begin, my Muse, Britannia claims thy Strains,
Her fertile Vallies, and her flow'ry Plains;
Thrice happy Britain, on whose Bosom grows
What Earth, all-bounteous, yields, or Art bestows;
Delighted here my wond'ring Eyes survey,
In Winter's Frown the smiling Groves look gay;
The Mountains mantl'd in rich Bloom appear,
And Larks and Nightingales mistake the Year.
The Muse in vain would local Beauties sing,
Where all is Rapture, and where all is Spring;
Yet Hampton's copious Lawns demand my Song,
They charm'd me early, and they charm'd me long;
Within thy Shades, from scorching Suns secure,
Thy Noons were pleasing, and thy Morns were pure;
In Visions wrapt among thy Groves I lay,
Or on thy cool Canals enjoy'd the Day:
The sweet Remembrance in my Bosom swells;
There Bliss untainted, and my Tilson dwells:
Long there may Health endear each smiling Hour,
Bloom in the Beam, and bless the genial Bow'r;
Domestic Happiness from Heav'n descend,
And ev'ry earthly Joy surround my Friend,
Who took me timely in his gen'rous Hand,
Dismay'd and wand'ring in a foreign Land;
Who made me, smiling, with a Soul confess'd
His warm Associate, and his welcome Guest;
Beneath his hospitable Roof retir'd,
His Humour charm'd me, and his Sense inspir'd.

His Mira there in Virtue's Form is seen,
Peace in her Smile, and Pleasure in her Mien;
Winning Attraction and connubial Grace
Breathe in her Air, and brighten in her Face:
Accomplish'd thus to chear and temper Life,
To Pride a Stranger, and unknown to Strife;
Mild and harmonious as the Breath of May,
When Ev'ning Gales o'er Beds of Roses play;
She gently moves, and with her moves a Band,
Three smiling Graces at her guiding Hand;
Delightful Babes, whose lovely Faces show
The Morn's Vermilion, and the Noon-tide Glow,
Whose blooming Spring a Mother's Hope employs,
Her Pledge and Promise of maturer Joys;
Like tender Vines, whose Blossoms deck the Year,
Ere Boughs extend, or rip'ning Fruits appear,
Th'indulgent Warmth her genial Pow'r supplies,
And bids the future Fragrance fill the Skies.
With her two Nymphs in letter'd League combin'd,
Of virtuous Sentiment and Taste refin'd;
Sisters in Science join'd, and polish'd Ease;
And each bright Talent to improve or please;
External Beauty seems their smallest Share,
Tho' none more lovely, and tho' few so fair;
Yet Strength of Mind with Judgment's added Weight,
And gentlest Manners, make their Charms complete.

Take thou the Verse, accept the grateful Line,
Which to thy Tilson's Worth I pay, and thine;
To thee, O Mountney! let my Strains ascend,
Forgive my Freedom, when I call thee Friend.
Aw'd by thy Judgment, let my Conduct be
From mean Assurance and from Flatt'ry free:
Tho' low my Station, let my Thoughts aspire;
You rais'd my Genius, and you fann'd my Fire,
By your Example warm'd, I took my Flight
On feeble Wings, yet kept you still in Sight;
Ambitious still your Path sublime to tread,
Where Wisdom pointed, and where Virtue led;
Fond of the Precept, I the Practice try'd,
Proud to approach you, but with humble Pride.