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Full text of "The works of the English poets; with prefaces, biographical and critical"

HANDBOLXD 

AT THE 



t-NIVERSITY OF 
TORONTO PRESS 



9v 



THE 



1,1 



ii 



WORKS 

O F T H E 

ENGLISH POETS. 

WITH 

PREFACES, 

lOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL, 

BY SAMUEL JOHNSON. 



VOLUME THE S E VE NTY-FI RST. 



LONDON 



PRINTED BY 



. BALDWINJ \ 




1 J. BUCKLAND, J.RIVINGTON AND SONS, T.PAYNE AND 

( '•■, L. DAVIS, B. WHITE AND SON, T. LONGMAN, B. LAW, 

»ODSLEY, H. BALDWIN, J. ROBSON, C.DILLY, T. CADELL, 

NICHOLS, J. JOHNSON, G. G. J. AND J. ROBINSON, 

BALDWIN, H. L. GARDNER, P. ELMSLY, T. EVANS, 

. NICOL, LEIGH AND SOTHEBY, J. BEW, N. CONANT, 

• MURRAY, J. SEWELL, W. GOLDSMITH, W.RICHARDSON, 

VERNOR, W, LOWNDES, W. BENT, W. OTRIDGE, T. AND 

iGERTON, S. HAYES, R. FAULDER, J. EDWARDS, G. AND 

VILKIE, W, NICOLL, OGILVY ANO SPEARE, SCATCHERD 

> WHiTAKER, W. FOX, C.STALKER, E. NEWBERY. J79O. 



THE 

SEVENTY-FIRST VOLUME 

O F T H E 

ENGLISH POETS; 

CONTAINING 

ARMSTRONG and LANGHORNE. 



Vol. LXXI. 



i 



THE ART 



PRESERVING HEALTH, 1744 



BOOK I. 



A I R, 

DAUGHTER of PtEon, queen of every joy, 
H Y G E I A *; whofe indulgent fmlle fuftains 
The various race luxuriant nature pours. 
And on th' immortal effences beftows 
Immortal youth; aufpicious, O defcend ! j 

Thou chearful guardian of the rolling year. 
Whether thou wanton'ft on the weftern gale. 
Or fliak'ft the rigid pinions of the north, 
DifFufeft life and vigour through the trafls 
Of air, through earth, and ocean's deep domain, 10 
When through the blue ferenity of heavea 
Thy power approaches, all the vvafteful hod 
Of Pain and Sicknefs, fqualid and deform'd. 
Confounded fink into the loathfome gloom, 

* Hygeia, the goddefs of health, was, according to the genealogy 
of the heathen deities, the daughter of /Efculapius j who, as well as 
Apollo, was diftinguiflied by the name of Pa;on. 

B 2 Where 



4 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Where in deep Erebus involv'd the Fiends i j; 

Grow more profane. Whatever fhapes of death. 

Shook from the hideous chambers of the globe. 

Swarm thro' the (hudd'ring air: whatever plagues 

Or meagre famine breeds, or with flow wings 

Rife from the putrid watry element, 20 

The damp wafte foreft, motionlefs and rank. 

That fmothers earth and all the breathlefs winds. 

Or the vile carnage of th' inhuman field ; 

Whatever baneful breathes the rotten fouth; 

Whatever ills th' extremes or fudden change 2^ 

Of cold and hot, or moift and dry produce; 

They fly thy pure effulgence : they and all 

The fecret poifons of avenging heaven. 

And all the pale tribes halting in the train 

Of Vice and heedlefs Pleafure : or if aught 30 

The comet's glare amid the burning fky. 

Mournful eclipfe, or planets ill-combin'd 

Portend difaftrous to the vital world j 

Thy falutary power averts their rage. 

Averts the general bane : and but for thee 3^ 

Nature would ficken, nature foon would die. 

Without thy chearful adive energy 
No rapture fwells the breaft, no Poet fings. 
No more the maids of Helicon delight. 
Come then with me, O Goddefs heavenly gay! 40 
Begin the fong; and let it fweetlyflow. 
And let it wifely teach thy wholefome laws : 
♦♦ How beft the fickle fabrick to fupport 
♦« Of mortal man; in healthful body how 

♦• A healthful 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 5 

«' A healthful mind the longeft to maintain." 4- 

'Tis hard, in fuch a ftrife of rules, to chufe 

The beft, and thofe of moft extenfive ufc ; 

Harder in clear and animated fong 

Dry philofophic precepts to convey. 

Yet with thy aid the fecret wilds I trace ^o 

Of nature, and with daring fteps proceed 

Through paths the mufes never trod before. 

Nor fliould I wander doubtful of my way. 
Had I the lights of that fagacious mind 
Which taught to check the peftilential fire, ^^ 

And quell the deadly Python of the Nile. 
O thou belov'd by all the graceful arts. 
Thou Igng the fav'rite of the healing powers. 
Indulge, O Mead ! a well-defign'd eflay, 
Howe'er imperfedl: and permit that I 60 

My little knowledge with my country {hare. 
Till you the rich Afclepian ftores unlock. 
And with new graces dignify the theme. 

YE who amid this feverifh world would wear 
A body free of pain, of cares a mind; 6^ 

Fly the rank city, Ihun its turbid air ; 
Breathe not the chaos of eternal fmoke 
And volatile corruption, from the dead. 
The dying, fickning, and the living world 
Exhal'd, to fully heaven's tranfparent dome '70 

With dim mortality. It is not Air 
That from a thoufand lungs reeks back to thine. 
Sated with exhalations rank and fell. 
The fpoil of dunghills, and the putrid thaw 

B3 Of 



6 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Of nature ; when from fhape and texture ftic 75; 

Relapfes into fighting elements : 

It is not Air, but floats a naufeous mafs 

Of all obfcene, corrupt, ofFenfive things. 

Much moifture hurts; but here a fordid bath. 

With oily rancour fraught, relaxes more 80 

The folid frame than fimple moifture can. 

Befides, imraur"d in many a fullen bay 

That never felt the frefhnefs of the breeze. 

This flumbring Deep remains, and ranker grows 

With fickly reft : and (though the lungs abhor 85 

To drink the dun fuliginous abyfs) 

Did not the acid vigour of the mine, 

Roird from fb many thundring chimneys, tame 

The putrid fteams that overfwarm the Iky ; 

This cauftic venom would perhaps corrode 90 

Thofe tender cells that draw the vital air. 

In vain with all their unftuous rills bedew'd ; 

Or by the drunken venous tubes, that yawn 

In countlefs pores o'er all the pervious fkin 

Imbib'd, would poifon the balfamic blood, 9^^ 

And roufe the heart to every fever's rage. 

While yet you breathe, away ; the rural wilds 

Invite; the mountains call you, and the vales ; 

The woods, the ftreams, and each ambrofial breeze 

That fans the ever undulating Iky ; 1 00 

A kindly Iky! whofe foft'ring power regales 

Man, beaft, and all the vegetable reign. 

Find then fome Woodland fcene where nature fmiles 

-Benign, where all her honeft children thrive, 

Ta 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 7 

*ro us there wants not many a happy Seat! 1 o^ 

Look round the fmiling land, fuch numbers rife 

We hardly fix, bewilder'd in our choice. 

See where enthron'd in adamantine ftate. 

Proud of her bards, imperial Windfor fits ; 

There chufe thy feat, in fome afpiring grove 1 10 

Fafl; by the flowly-winding Thames ; or where 

Broader fhe laves fair Richmond's green retreats, 

(Richmond that fees an hundred villas rife 

Rural or gay). O! from the fummer's rage 

O! wrap me in the friendly gloom that hides 11^ 

Umbrageous Ham! — But, if the bufy Town 

Attraft thee ftill to toil for power or gold. 

Sweetly thou mayft thy vacant hours poflefs 

In Hampftead, courted by the weftern wind ; 

Or Greenwich, waving o'er the winding flood; 1 20 

Or lofe the world amid the fylvan wilds 

Of Dulvvich, yet by barbarous arts unfpoil'd. 

Green rife theKentifli hills in chearful air; 

But on the marfhy plains that Lincoln fpreads 

Build not, nor reft too long thy wand'ring feet, 12^ 

For on a ruftic throne of dewy turf. 

With baneful fogs her aching temples bound, 

Quartana there prefides : a meagre Fiend 

Begot by Eurus, when his brutal force 

Comprefs'd the flothful Naiad of the Fens, 130 

From fuch a mixture fprung, this fitful peft 

With fev"rifh blaftsfubdues the fickning land : 

Cold tremors come, with mighty love of reftj 

Convulfive yawnings, laflitude, and pains 

B 4 That 



S ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

That ftlngthe burden 'd brows, fatigue the loins. 

And rack the joints and every torpid limb; 136 

Then parching heat fucceeds, till copious fweats 

O'erflow : a fhort relief from former ills. 

Beneath repeated fhocks the wretches pine; 

The vigour finks, the habit melts away ; 140 

The chearful, pure, and animated bloom 

Dies from the face, with fqualid atrophy 

Devour'd, in fallow melancholy clad. 

And oft the Sorcerefs, in her fated wrath, 

Refigns them to the furies of her train; 145 

The bloated Hydrops, and the yellow Fiend 

Ting'd with her own accumulated gall. 

In queft of Sites, avoid the mournful plain 
Where ofiers thrive, and trees that love the lake; 
Where many lazy muddy rivers flow : 1 j;o 

Nor for the wealth that all the Indies roll 
Fix near the marfhy margin of the main. 
For from the humid foil and watry reign 
Eternal vapours rife; thefpungy air 
For ever weeps : or, turgid with the weight i^^ 

Of waters, pours a founding deluge down. 
Skies fuch as thefe let every mortal (hun 
Who dreads the dropfy, palfy, or the gout. 
Tertian, corronve fcurvy, or moilt catarrh; 
Or any other injury that grows 160 

From raw-fpun fibres idle and unfirung. 
Skin ill-perfpiring, and the purple flood 
In languid eddies loitering into phlegm. 

Yet 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 9 

Yet not alone from humid Ikies we pine; 
For Air may be too dry. The fubtle heaven, 16^ 
That winnows into duft the blafted downs. 
Bare and extended wide without a ftream. 
Too faft imbibes th' attenuated lymph 
Which, by the furface, from the blood exhales. 
The lungs grow rigid, and with toil effay 
Their flexible vibrations; or inflamVi, 
Their tender ever-moving ftrufture thaws. 
Spoildof its limpid vehicle, the blood 
A mafs of lees remains, a drofly tide 
That flow as Lethe wanders thro' the veins : 175; 

Unaftive in the fervices of life. 
Unfit to lead its pitchy current through 
Thefecret mazy channels of the brain. 
The melancholic fiend (that worfl:defpair 
Of phyfic], hence the ruft-complexion'd man 1 80 

Purfues, whofe blood is dry, whofe fibres gain 
Too ftretch'd a tone: and hence in climes aduft 
So fudden tumults feize the trembling nerves. 
And burning fevers glow with double rage. 

Fly, if you can, thefe violent extremes 18^ 

Of Air : the wholefome is nor moift nor dry. 
But as the power of chufing is deny'd 
To half mankind, a further talk enfues ; 
How beft to mitigate thefe fell extremes. 
How breathe unhurt the withering element, 190 

Or hazy atmofphere : Though Cufl:om moulds 
To ev'ry clime the foft Promethean clay; 
And he who firft the fogs of EfTex breath'd 

So 



10 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

(So kind is native air) may in the fens 

Of Effex from inveterate ills revive ige 

At pure Montpelier or Bermuda caught. 

But if the raw and oozy heaven offend . 

Correft the foil, and dry the fources up 

Of watery exhalation : wide and deep 

Conduft your trenches through the quaking bog; 200 

SoUicitous, with all your winding arts. 

Betray th' unwilling lake into the ftream ; 

And weed the foreft, and invoke the winds 

To break the toils where ftrangled vapours lie ; 

Or through the thickets fend the crackling flames. 205 

Mean time at home with chearful fires difpel 

The humid air : And let your table fmoke 

"With folid roaft or bak'd ; or what the herds 

Of tamer breed fupply ; or what the wilds 

yield to the toilfome pleafures of the chafe. 210 

Generous your wine, the boaft of rip'ning years; 

But frugal be your cups: the languid frame 

Vapid and funk from yefterday's debauch. 

Shrinks from the cold embrace of watery heavens. 

But neither thefe nor all Apollo's arts, 2 1 5 

Difarm the dangers of the dropping Iky, 

Unlefs with exercife and manly toil 

You brace your nerves, and fpur the lagging blood. 

The fat'ning clime let all the fons of eafe 

Avoid; if indolence would wifh to live, 220 

Go, yawn and loiter out the long flow year 

In fairer Ikies. If droughty regions parch 

The Ikin and lungs, and bake the thickening blood ; 

Deep 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. u 

Deep in the vva\ ing foreft chufe your feat. 

Where fuming trees refrefh the thirfty air; 

And wake the fountains from their fecret beds, 

And into lakes dilate the rapid ftreara. 

Here fpread your gardens wide; and let the cool. 

The moift relaxing vegetable ftore 

Prevail in each repaft: Your food fupplied 230 

By bleeding life, be gently wafted down. 

By foft decoftion and a mellowing heat. 

To liquid balm; or, if the folid mafs 

You chufe, tormented in the boiling wave ; 

That through the thirfty channels of the blood 255 

A fmooth diluted chyle may ever flow. 

The fragrant dairy from its cool recefs 

Its nedlar acid or benign will pour 

To drown your thirft ; or let the mantling bowl 

Of keen Sherbet the nd<le tafte relieve. 24.0 

For with the vifcous blood the fimple ftream 

Will hardly mingle; and fermented cups 

Oft diffipate more moifture than they give. 

Yet when pale feafons rife, or winter rolls 

His horrors o'er the world, thou may'ft indulge 24^ 

In feafts more genial, and im.patient broach 

The mellow calk. Then too the fcourging air 

Provokes to keener toils than fultry droughts 

Allow. But rarely we fuch flcies blafpheme. 

Steep'd in continual rains, or with raw fogs 2 jo 

Bedew'd, our feafons droop; incumbent ftill 

A ponderous heaven o'erwhelms the finking foul. 

Lab'ringwith ftorms in heapy mountains rife 

Th' im- 



Si ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Th' imbattled clouds, as if the Stygian fhades 
Had left the dungeon of eternal night, 2 r r 

Till black with thunder all the South defcends. 
Scarce in a fhowerlefs day the heavens indulge 
Our meltingclime; except the baleful Eaft 
Withers the tender fpring, and fourly checks 
The fancy of the year. Our fathers talk 260 

Of fummers, balmy airs, and ikies ferene. 
Good heaven ! for what unexpiated crimes 
This difmal change ! The brooding elements 
Do they, your powerful minifters of wrath. 
Prepare fome fierce exterminating plague ? 269 

Or is it fix'd in the Decrees above 
That lofty Albion melt into the main ! 
Indulgent Nature ! O diffolve this gloom ! 
Bind in eternal adamant the winds 
That drown or wither: Give the genial Weft 270 

To breathe, and in its turn the fprightly North ; 
And may once more the circling feafons rule 
The year ; not mix in every monftrous day. 

Mean time, the moift malignity to fhun 274 

Of burthen'd Ikies; mark where the dry champaign 
Swells into chearful hills; where Marjoram 
And Thyme, the love of bees, perfume the air; 
And where the* Cynorrhodon with the rofe. 
For fragrance vies; for in the thirfty foil 
Moft fragrant breathe the aromatic tribes. 280 

There bid thy roofs high on the baflcing deep 

* The wild rofe, or that which grows on the common briar, 

Afcend, 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH, ,3 

Afcend, there light thy hofpitable fires. 

And let them fee the winter morn arife. 

The fummer evening blu(hing in the weft ; 

While \\ ith umbrageous oaks the ridge behind 285 

O'erhung, defends you from the bluiV ring north. 

And bleak affliftion of the peevilh eaft. 

O ! when the growling winds contend, and all 

The founding foreft fiuftuates in the ftorm ; 

To fmk in warm repofe, and hear the din 29© 

Howl o'er the fteady battlements, delights 

Above the luxury of vulgar fleep. 

The murmuring rivulet, and the hoarfer ftrain 

Of waters rufhing o'er the flippery rocks. 

Will nightly lull you to ambrofial reft. 20^ 

To pleafe the fancy is no trifling good. 

Where health is ftudied ; for whatever moves 

The mind with calm delight, promotes the juft 

And natural movements of th' harmonious frame. 

Befides, the fportive brook for ever fhakes 300 

The trembling air ; that floats from hill to hill. 

From vale to mountain, with inceffant change 

Of pureft element, refrefliing ftill 

Your airy feat, and uninfedled Gods. 

Chiefly for this I praife the man who builds 305 

High on the breezy ridge, whofe lofty fides 

Th' etherial deep with endlefs billows chafes. 

His purer manfion nor contagious years 

Shall reach, nor deadly putrid airs annoy. 

But may no fogs, from lake or fenny plain, 310 
Involve my hill! And wherefoe'er you build ; 

Whether 



H ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

"Whether on fun-burnt Epfom, or the plains 

Wafli'd by the filent Lee; in Chelfea low. 

Or high Blackheath with wintry winds affaird; 

Dry be yourhoufe : but airy more than warm. 315 

Elfe every breath of ruder wind will ftrike 

Your tender body through with rapid pains ; 

Fierce coughs will teize you, hoarfenefs bind your voice. 

Or moiO; Gravedo load your aching brows. 

Thefe to defy and all the fates that dwell 320 

In cloifter'd air tainted with {learning life. 

Let lofty ceilings grace your ample rooms ; 

And ftill at azure noontide may your dome 

At every window drink the liquid flcy. 

Need we the funny fituation here, 32^; 

And theatres open to the fouth, commend? 
Here, where the morning's mifty breath infefts 
More than the torrid noon ? How fickly grow. 
How pale, the plants in tliofe ill-fated vales 
That, circled round with the gigantic heap 330 

Of mountains, never felt, nor ever hope 
To feel, the genial vigour of the fun ! 
While on the neighbouring hill therofe inflames 
The verdant fpring; in virgin beauty blows 
The tender lily, languilhingly fweet ; 335 

O'er every hedge the wanton woodbine roves. 
And autumn ripens in the furamer's ray. 
Nor lefs the warmer living tribes demand 
The foft'ring fun : whofe energy divine 
Dwells not in mortal fire; whofe gen'rous heat 340 

Glows 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 15 

Glows through the mafs of grofler elements. 

And kindles into life the pondrous fpheres. 

Chear'd by thy kind invigorating warmth. 

We court thy beams, great majefty of day ! 

If not the foul, the regent of this world, 345 

Firft-born of heaven, and only lefs than God ! 



THE 



C ^6 ] 
THE ART 

O F 

PRESERVING HEALTH. 
BOOK 11. 



DIET. 

'P N O U G H of Air. A defart fubjed now, 

•*— ^ Rougher and wilder, rifes to my fight. 

A barren wafte, where not a garland grows 

To bind theMufe's brow; not ev'n a proud 

Stupendous folitude frowns o'er the heath, r 

To roufe a noble horror in the foul: 

But rugged paths fatigue, and error leads 

Through endlefs labyrinths the devious feet. 

Farewel, etherial fields! the humbler arts 

Of life; the Table and the homely Gods lo 

Demand my fong. Elyfian gales adieu ! 

The blood, the fountain whence the fpirlts flow. 
The generous ftream that waters every part. 
And motion, vigour, and warm life conveys 
To every particle that moves or lives; 15 

This vital fluid, through unnumber'd tubes 
Pour'd by the heart, and to the heart again 

Refunded; 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 17 

Refunded ; fcourg'd for ever round and round ; 

Enrag'd with heat and toil, at laft forgets 

Its balmy nature; virulent and thin 20 

It grows ; and now, but that a thoufand gates 

Are open to its flight, it would deftroy 

The parts it cherifh'd and repaired before. 

Befides, the flexible and tender tubes 

Melt in the mildeft moft neftareous tide 2^ 

That ripening nature rolls ; as in the ftream 

Its crumbling banks; but what the vital force 

Of plaftic fluids hourly batters down. 

That very force, thofe plaftic particles 

Rebuild: So mutable the ftate of man. 30 

For this the watchful appetite was giv'n. 

Daily with frefh materials to repair 

This unavoidable expence of life. 

This neceflfary wafte of flefh and blood. 

Hence the concoftive powers, with various art, 3; 

Subdue the cruder aliments to chyle; 

The chyle to blood; the foamy purple tide 

To liquors, which through finer arteries 

To different parts their winding courfe purfue; 

To try new changes, and new forms put on, 40 

Or for the public, or fome private ufe. 

Nothing fo foreign but th' athletic hind 
Can labour into blood. The hungry meal 
Alone he fears, or aliments too thin; 
By violent powers too eafily fubdu'd, 4, 

Too foon expell'd. His daily labour thaws. 
To friendly chyle, the moft rebellious mafs 

Vol. LXXI. C Thaf 



i8 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

That fait can harden, or the fmoke of years; 

Nor does his gorge the lufcious bacon rue. 

Nor that which Ceftria fends, tenacious pallc 50 

Of folid milk. But ye of fofter clay. 

Infirm and delicate! and ye who wafte 

With pale and bloated floth the tedious day! 

Avoid the ftubborn aliment, avoid 

The full repaft; and let fagacious age ^^ 

Grow wifer, leflbn'd by the dropping teeth. 

Half fubtiliz'd to chyle, the liquid food 
Readieft obeys th' affimilating powers; 
And foon the tender vegetable mafs 
Relents ; and foon the young of thofe that tread 60 
The ftedfaft earth, or cleave the green abyfs. 
Or pathlefs (ky. And if the Steer muft fall. 
In youth and fanguine vigour let him die; 
Nor ftay till rigid age, or heavy ails, 
Abfolve him ill-requited from the yoke. 65 

Some with high forage, and luxuriant eafe. 
Indulge the veteran Ox; but wifer thou. 
From the bald mountain or the barren downs, 
Expeft the flocks by frugal nature fed ; 
A race of purer blood, with exercife 70 

Refin'd and fcanty fare : For, old or young. 
The ftall'd are never healthy ; nor the cramm'd. 
Not all the culinary arts can tame. 
To wholefome food, the abominable growth 
Of reft and gluttony ; the prudent tafte 75 

Rejefts like bane fuch loathfome lufcioufnefs. 
The languid ftomach curfes even the pure 

Delicious 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 19 

Delicious fat, and all the race of oil : 

For more the oily aliments relax 

Its feeble tone; and with the eager lymph 80 

Fond to incorporate with all it meets) 

Coily they mix, and fhun with flippery wiles 

The woo'd embrace. Th' irrefoluble oil. 

So gentle late and blandifhing, in floods 

Of rancid bile o'ei-flows : What tumults hence, 85 

What horrors rife, were naufeous to relate. 

Choofe leaner viands, ye whofe jovial make 

Too faft the gummy nutriment imbibes: 

Choofe fober meals; and roufe to aftive life 

Your cumbrous clay; nor on th' infeebling down, 

Irrefolute, protraft the morning hours. 91 

But let the man whofe bones are thinly clad. 

With chearful eafe and fuccnlent repaft 

Improve his habit if he can ; for each 

Extreme departs from perfeft fanity. 5^ 

I could relate what table this demands 
Or that complexion ; what the various powers 
Of various foods : But fifty years would roll. 
And fifty more before the tale were done. 
Befides there often lurks fome namelefs, ftrange, 100 
Peculiar thing; nor on the Ikin difplay'd. 
Felt in the pulfe, nor in the habit feen ; 
WHiich finds a poifon in the food that moft 
The temp'rature affefts. There are, whofe blood 
Impetuous rages through the turgid veins, 10; 

Who better bear the fiery fruits of Ind 
Than the moift Melon, or pale Cucumber. 

C 2 Of 



20 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Of chilly nature others fly the board 

Supply'd with flaughter, and the vernal powers 

For cooler, kinder, fuftenance implore. 

Some even the generous nutriment deteft no 

Which, in the fhell, the fleeping embryo rears. 

Some, more unhappy ftill, repent the gifts 

Of Pales ; foft, delicious and benign : 

The balmy quinteflence of every flower. 

And every grateful herb that decks the fpring; 1 15 

The foft 'ring dew of tender fp routing life; 

The beft refeftion of declining age; 

The kind reftorative of thofe who lie 

Half dead and panting, from the doubtful ftrife 

Of nature ftruggling in the grafp of death. 120 

Try all the bounties of this fertile globe. 

There is not fuch a falutary food 

As fuits with every ftomach. But (except. 

Amid the mingled mafs of fifh and fowl. 

And boil'd and bak'd, you hefitate by which I2«; 

You funk opprefs'd, or whether not by all ;) 

Taught by experience foon you may difcern 

What pleafes, what offends. Avoid the cates 

That lull the ficken'd appetite too long ; 

Or heave with fev'rifb flufliings all the face, 130 

Bum in the palms, and parch the roughning tongue ; 

Or much diminifh or too much increafe 

Th' expence, which nature's wife ceconomy. 

Without or wafte or avarice, maintains. 

Such cates abjur'd, let prouling hunger loofe, 135 

And bid the curious palate roara at will; 

1 They 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. as 

They fcarce can err amid the various ftores 
That burft the teeming entrails of the world. 

Led by fagacious tafte, the ruthlefs king 
Of beafts on blood and Daughter only lives; 140 

The Tiger, form'd alike to cruel meals. 
Would at the manger ftarve : Of milder feeds 
The generous horfe to herbage and to grain 
Confines his wi(h; though fabling Greece refound 
The Thracian fteeds with human carnage wild. 145 
Prompted by inftind's never-erring power. 
Each creature knows its proper aliment; 
But man, th' inhabitant of ev'ry clime. 
With all the commoners of nature feeds. 
Direfted, bounded, by this power within, 15*0 

Their cravings are well-aim'd : Voluptuous Man 
Is by fuperior faculties mifled; 
Mifled from pleafure even in queft of joy. 
Sated with Nature's boons, what thoufands feek. 
With difhes tortur'd from their native tafte, 155 

And mad variety, to fpur beyond 
Its wifer will the jaded appetite! 
Is this for pleafure ? Learn a jufter tafte; 
And know that temperance is true luxury. 
Or is it pride? Purfue fome nobler aim. 160 

Difmifs your parafites, who praife for hire; 
And earn the fair efteem of honeft men, 
Whofe praife is fame. Form'd of fuch clay as yours. 
The fick, the needyj fhiver at your gates. 
E\en modeft want may blefs your hand unfeen, 1 65 
Though hufh'd in patient wretchednefs at home, 

C 3 Is 



c» ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Is there no virgin, grac'd with every charm 
But that which binds the mercenary vow? 
No youth of genius, whofe neglefted bloom 
Unfofter'd fickens in the barren fhade; 170 

No worthy man,' by fortune's random blows. 
Or by a heart too generous and humane, 
Conftrain'd to leave his happy natal feat. 
And figh for wants more bitter than his own ? 
There are, while human miferies abound, 17J 

A thoufand ways to wafte fuperfluous wealth. 
Without one fool or flatterer at your board. 
Without one hour of ficknefs or difguft. 

But other ills th' ambiguous feaft purfue, 
Befides provoking the lafcivious tafte. 180 

Such various foods, though harmlefs each alone. 
Each other violate; and oft we fee 
What ftrife is brew'd, and what pernicious bane. 
From combinations of innoxious things. 
Th' unbounded tafte I mean not to confine 185 

To hermit's diet needlefly fevere. 
But would you long the fweets of health enjoy. 
Or hufband pleafure; at one impious meal 
Exhauft not half the bounties of the year. 
Of every realm. It matters not mean while 19Q 

How much to-morrow differ from to-day; 
So far indulge : 'tis fit, befides, that man. 
To change obnoxious, be to change inur'd. 
But ftay the curious appetite, and tafte 
With caution fruits you never tried before. 195 

For want of ufe the kindeft aliment 

Sometimes 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 23 

Sometimes ofFends ; while cuftora tames the rage 
Of poifon to mild amity with life. 

So heav'n has forra'd us to the general taflc 
Of all its gifts; fo cuftom has improv'd 20» 

This bent of nature; that few fimple foods. 
Of all that earth, or air, or ocean yield. 
But by excefs offend. Beyond the fenfe 
Of light refeclion, at the genial board 
Indulge not often; nor protraft the feafl 205 

To dull fatiety ; till foft and flow 
A drowzy death creeps on, th' expanfive foul 
Opprefs'd, and fmother'd the celeftial fire. 
The ftomach, urg'd beyond its aftive tone. 
Hardly to nutrimental chyle fubdues 2lo 

The fofteft food; unfinifh'd and deprav'd. 
The chyle, in all its future wanderings, owns 
Its turbid fountain ; not by purer ftreams 
So to be clear "d, but foulnefs will remain. 
To fparkling wine what ferment can exalt 2 1 5 

Th* unripen'd grape? Or what mechanic fkill 

From the crude ore can fpin the duftile gold? 
Grofs riot treafures up a wealthy fund 

Of plagues : but more immedicable ills 

Attend the lean extreme. For phyfic knows 220 

How to difburden the too tumid veins. 

Even how to ripen the half-labour'd blood ; 

But to unlock the elemental tubes, 

Collaps'd and fhrunk with long inanity-. 

And with balfamic nutriment repair 225 

The dried and worn-out habit, were to bid 

C 4 Old 



24 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Old age grow green, and wear a fecond fpring; 

Or the tall afh, long ravifh'd from the foil. 

Through wither'd veins imbibe the vernal dew. 

When hunger calls, obey; nor often wait 230 

Till hunger fharpen to corrofive pain: 

For the keen appetite will feaft beyond 

What nature v/ell can bear ; and one extreme 

Ne'er without danger meets its own reverfe. 

Too greedily th' exhaufted veins abforb 235 

The recent chyle, and load enfeebled powers 

Oft to th' extinftion of the vital flame. 

To the pale cities, by the firm-fet fiege 

And famine humbled, may this verfe be borne j 

And hear, ye hardieft fons that Albion breeds 240 

Long tofs'd and famifh'd on the wintrj' main; 

The war fhook off, or hofpitable fhore 

Attain'd, with temperance bear the fhock of joy ; 

I\or crown with feftive rites th' aufpicious day: 

Such feaft might prove more fatal than the waves. 

Than war or famine. While the vital fire 246 

Burns feebly, heap not the green fuel on ; 

But prudently foment the wandering fpark 

.With what the fooneft feeds its kindred touch : 

Be frugal ev'n of that : a little give 250 

At firft; that kindled, add a little more; 

Till, by deliberate nourifhing, the flame 

Reviv'd, with all its wonted vigour glows. 

But though the two (the full and the jejune) 
"Extremes have each their vice ; it much avails 255 
Ever with gentle tide to ebb and flow 

From 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 45 

From this to that : So nature learns to bear 
Whatever chance or headlong appetite 
May bring. Befides> a meagre day fubdues 
The cruder clods by lloth or luxury 260 

CoUedled, and unloads the wheels of life. 
Sometimes a coy averfion to the feaft 
Comes on, while yet no blacker omen lours ; 
Then is a time to fhun the tempting board. 
Were it your natal or your nuptial day, 265 

Perhaps a faft fo feafonable ftarves 
The latent feeds of woe, which rooted once 
Might coft you labour. But the day return'd 
Of feftal luxury, the wife indulge 
Moft in the tender vegetable breed : 270 

Then chiefly when the fummer beams inflame 
The brazen heavens ; or angry Sirius flieds 
A feverifli taint through the ftill gulf of air. 
The moift cool viands then, and flowing cup 
From the frefh dairy-virgin's liberal hand, 275' 

Will fave your head from harm, tho' round the world 
The dreaded * Caufos roll his wafteful fires. 
Pale humid winter loves the generous board. 
The meal more copious, and a warmer fare ; 
And longs with old wood and old wine to chear 280 
His quaking heart. The feafons which divide ■ 
Th' empires of heat and cold ; by neither claim'd, 
Influenc'd by both ; a middle regimen 
Impofe. Through autumn's languifliing domain 
Defcending, nature by degrees invites 285 

* The burning fever. 

To 



i6 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

To glowing luxury. But from the depth 

Of winter when th' invigorated year 

Emerges; when Favonius flufh'd with love, 

Toyful and young, in every breeze defcends 

More warm and wanton on his kindling bride; 290 

Then, fhepherds, then begin to fpare your flocks; 

And learn, with wife humanity, to check 

The luft of blood. Now pregnant earth commits 

A various offspring to th' indulgent fky : 

Now bounteous nature feeds with lavifh hand 295 

The prone creation; yields what once fuffic'd 

Their dainty fovereign, when the world was young ; 

Ere yet the barbarous thirft of blood had feiz'd 

The human breaft. — Each rolling month matures 

The food that fuits it moft ; fo does each clime. 

Far in the horrid realms of Winter, where 301 

Th' eftablifh'd ocean heaps a monftrous wafte 
Of fliining rocks and mountains to the pole : 
There lives a hardy race, whofe plaineft wants 
Relentlefs earth, their cruel ftep-mother, 305 

Regards not. On the wafte of iron fields, 
Untam'd, intraftable, no harvefts wave : 
Pomona hates them, and the clownifh God 
Who tends the garden. In this frozen world 
Such cooling gifts were vain : a fitter meal 310 

Is earn'd with eafe : for here the fruitful fpavvn 
Of Ocean fwarms, and heaps their genial board 
With generous fare and luxury profufe. 
Thefe are their bread, the only bread they know: 
Thefe, and their willing flave the deer that crops 

The 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 27 

The ftirubby herbage on their meagre hills. 3 1 6 

Girt by the burning Zone, not thus the South 

Her fwarthy fons in either Ind, maintains : 

Or thirfty Libya ; from whofe fervid loins 

The lion burfts, and every fiend that roams 320 

Th' affrighted wildernefs. The mountain herd, 

Aduft and dry, no fvveet repaft affords; 

Nor does the tepid main fuch kinds produce. 

So perfeft, fo delicious, as the flioals 

Of icy Zembla. Rafhiy where the blood 32 r 

Brews feverifli frays ; where fcarce the tubes fuftain 

Its tumid fervour and tempeftuous courfe; 

Kind nature tempts not to fuch gifts as thefe. 

But here in livid ripenefs melts the Grape : 

Here, finifli'd by invigorating funs, 230 

Through the green fliade the golden Orange glows; 

Spontaneous here the turgid Melon yields 

A generous pulp : the Coco fwells on high 

With milky riches ; and in horrid mail 

The crifp Ananas wraps its poignant fweets. ^55 

Earth's vaunted progeny : In ruder air 

Too coy to flourifh, even too proud to live; 

Or hardly rais'd by artificial fire 

To vapid life. Here with a mother's fmile 

Glad Amalthea pours her copious horn. 340 

Here buxom Ceres reigns ; Th' autumnal fea 

In boundlefs billows fluftuates o'er their plains. 

\^'hat fuits the climate belt, what fuits the men. 

Nature profufes moft, and mofl the tafte 

Demands, The fountain, edg'd wiih racy wiac 

Or 



»8 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Or acid fruit, bedews their thirfly fouls. 

The breeze eternal breathing round their limbs 

Supports in elfe intolerable air: 

While the cool Palm, the Plaintain, and the grove 

That waves on gloomy Lebanon, affuage 350 

The torrid hell that beams upon their heads. 

Now come, ye Naiads, to the fountains lead; 
Now let me wander through your gelid reign. 
I burn to view th' enthufiaftic wilds 
By mortal elfe untrod. I hear the din 355 

Of waters thund'ring o'er the ruin'd cliiFs. 
With holy reverence I approach the rocks 
Whence glide the ftreams renown'd in ancient fong. 
Here from the defart down the rumbling fteep 
Firft fprings the Nile ; here burfts the founding Po 
In angry waves j Euphrates hence devolves 361 

A mighty flood to water half the Eaft ; 
And there, in Gothic folitude reclin'd. 
The chearlefs Tanais pours his hoary urn. 
"What folemn twilight! What ftupendous fhades ^6^ 
Enwrap thefe infant floods! Through every nerve 
A facred horror thrills, a pleafing fear 
Glides o'er my frame. The foreft deepens round; 
And more gigantic ftill th' impending trees 
Stretch their extravagant arms athwart the gloom. 
Are thefe the confines of fome fairy world ? 371 

A land of Genii ? Say, beyond thefe wilds 
What unknown nations ? If indeed beyond 
Aught habitable lies. And whither leads. 
To what firange regions, or of blifs or pain, 375 

That 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. a> 

That fubterraneous way ? Propitious maids, 

Conduft me, while with fearful fteps I tread 

This trembling ground. The talk remains to fing 

Your gifts (fo Paeon, fo the powers of health 

Command) to praife your cryftal element : 380 

The chief ingredient in heaven's various woiks; 

Whofe flexile genius fparkles in the gem. 

Grows firm in oak, and fugitive in wine; 

The vehicle, the fource, of nutriment 

And life, to all that vegetate or live. 38^ 

O comfortable ftreams ! With eager lips 
And trembling hand the languid thirfly quaff 
New life in you ; frefh vigour fills their veins. 
No warmer cups the rural ages knew ; 
None warmer fought the fires of human kind. 390 
Happy in temperate peace! Their equal days 
Felt not th' alternate fits of feverifb mirth. 
And fick dejeftion. Still ferene and pleas "d 
They knew no pains but what the tender foul 
With pleafure yields to, and would ne'er forget. 
Bleft with divine immunity from ails, 396 

Long centuries they liv'd; their only fate 
Was ripe old age, and rather fleep than death. 
Oh ! could thofe worthies from the world of Gods 
Return to vifit their degenerate fons, 400 

How would they fcorn the joys of modern time. 
With all our art and toil improv'd to pain ! 
Too happy they ! But wealth brought luxury. 
And luxury on iloth begot difeafe. 

Learu 



30 ARMSTRONG'S P0£MS. 

Learn temperance, friends; and hear without difdalrl 
The choice of water. Thus the * Coan fage 406 
Opin'd, and thus the learn 'd of every School. 
What leaft of foreign principles partakes 
Is beft : The lighted then ; what bears the touch 
Of fire the leaft, and fooneft mounts in air; 410 

The moft infipid ; the moft void of fmell. 
Such the rude mountain from his horrid fides 
Pours down ; fuch waters in the fandy vale 
For ever boil, alike of winter frofts 
And fummer's heat fecure. The cryftal ftream, 41^ 
Through rocks refounding, or for many a mile 
O'er the chaf'd pebbles hurl'd, yields wholefome, pure 
And mellow draughts ; except when winter thaws. 
And half the mountains melt into the tide. 
Though thirft were e'er fo refolute, a\'oid 420 

The fordid lake, and all fuch drowfy floods 
As fill from Lethe Belgia's flow canals; 
(With reft corrupt, with vegetation green j 
Squalid with generation, and the birth 
Of little monfters;) till the power of fire 425 

Has from prophane embraces difengag'd 
The violated lymph. The virgin ftream 
In boiling waftes its finer foul in air. 

Nothing like fimple element dilutes 
The food, or gi^-es the chyle fo foon to flow. 430 
But where the ftomach indolent and cold 
Toys with its duty, animate with wine 
Th' infipid ftream : Though golden Ceres yields 

* -Hippocrates. 

A more 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 31 

A more voluptuous, a more fprightly draught ; 

Perhaps more aftive. Wine unmlx'd, and all 435 

The gluey floods that from the vex'd abyfs 

Of fermentation fpring ; with fpirit fraught. 

And furious with intoxicating fire ; 

Retard concoftion, and preferve unthaw'd 

Th' embodied mafs. You fee what countlefs years, 

Embalm'd in fiery quintefcence of wine, 441 

The puny wonders of the reptile world. 

The tender rudiments of life, the Aim 

Unravellings of minute anatomy. 

Maintain their texture, and unchang'd remain. 445 

We curfe not wine: The vile excefs we blame; 
More fruitful than th' accumulated board. 
Of pain and mifery. For the fubtle draught 
Fafter and furer fwells the vital tide ; 
And with more aftive poifon, than the floods 450 
Of grofler crudity convey, pervades 
The far remote meanders of our frame. 
Ah! fly deceiver! Branded o'er and o'er. 
Yet ftill belie v'd ! Exulting o'er the wreck 
Of fober vows ! — But the Parnaffian Maids 455 

* Another time perhaps {hall fing the joys. 
The fatal charms, the many woes of wine ; 
Perhaps its various tribes, and various powers. 

Mean time, I would not alvva} s dread the bowl. 
Nor every trefpafs fliun. The feverifh ftrife, 460 
Rous'd by the rare debauch, fubdues, expells 
The loitering crudities that burden life; 

* Sse Book iv. 

And, 



34- ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Still with the ruins of the fmall grow ftrong. 
Life glows mean time, amid the grinding force 
Of vifcous fluids and elaftic tubes; ^i - 

Its various funftions vigoroufly are plied 
By ftrong machinery ; and in folid health 
The Man confirm'd long triumphs o'er difeafe. 
But the full ocean ebbs : There is a point. 
By nature fix'd, whence life muft downward tend. 
For flill the beating tide confolidates 521 

The ftubborn veffels, more reludant ftill 
To the weak throbs of th' ill-fupported heart. 
This languirtiing, thefe ftrength"ning by degrees 
To hard unyielding unelaftic bone, 525 

Through tedious channels the congealing flood 
Crawls lazily, and hardly wanders on ; 
It loiters ftill : And now it ftirs no more. 
This is the period few attain ; the death 
' Of nature; thus (fo heav'n ordain'd it) life ^^9 

Deftroys itfelf ; and could thefe laws have chang'd, 
Neftor might now the fates of Troy relate; 
And Homer live immortal as his fong. 

What does not fade ? The tower that long had flood 
The crufli of thunder and the warring winds, 536 
Shook by the flow but fure deftroyer Time, 
Now hangs in doubtful ruins oer its bafe. 
And flinty pyramids, and walls of brafs, 
Defcend : the Babylonian fpires are funk; 
Achaia, Rome, and Egypt moulder down. 540 

Time fliakes the ftable tyranny of thrones. 
And tottering empires ru(h by their own weight, 

Thii 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 35 

This huge rotundity we tread grows old ; 

And all thofe worlds that roll around the fun. 

The fun himfelf, fhall die ; and ancient Night 545 

Again involve the defolate abyfs : 

Till the great Father through the lifelefs gloom 

Extend his arm to light another world. 

And bid new planets roll by other laws. 

For through the regions of unbounded fpace, 550 

Where unconfin'd Omnipotence has room. 

Being, in various fyllems, flufluates flill 

Between creation and abhorr'd decay : 

It ever did ; perhaps and ever will. 

New worlds are ftill emerging from the deep ; ^^(j 

The old defcending, in their turns to rife. 



Dt THE 



[ 36 3 

T H E A R T 
o P 

PRESERVING HEALTH. 

BOOK III. 

EXERCISE. 

'THHRO' various toils th' adventurous Mufe has paft; 
•*- But half the toil, and more than half, remains. 
Rude is her Theme, and hardly fit for Song ; 
Plain, and of little ornament; and I 
But little praftis'd in th' Aonian arts. ^ 

Yet not in vain fuch labours have we tried. 
If aught thefe lays the fickle health confirm. 
To you, ye delicate, I write; for you 
I tame my youth to philofophic cares. 
And grow ftill paler by the midnight lamps, lo 

Not to debilitate with timorous rules 
A hardy frame; nor needlefly to brave 
Unglorious dangers, proud of mortal ftrength j 
Is all the leflbn that in wholefome years 
Concerns the ftrong. His care were ill beftow'd 1 5 
Who would with warm effeminacy nurfe 

The 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 37 

I he thriving oak which on the mountain's brow 
iJcars all the blafts that fweep the wintry heav'n. 

Behold the labourer of the glebe, who toils 
Induft, in rain, in cold and fultry flcies; 20 

Save but the grain from mildews and the flood. 
Nought anxious he what fickly ftars afcend. 
He knows no laws by Efculapius given ; 
He ftudies none. Yet him nor midnight fogs 
Infeft, nor thofe envenom'd fliafts that fly 25 

When rabid Sirius fires th' autumnal noon. 
His habit pure with plain and temperate meals, 
Robufl: with labour, and by cufl;ora fl;eel"d 
To every cafualty of varied life; 
Serene he bears the peevifli Eaftern blafl:, 30 

And uninfected breathes the mortal South. 

Such the reward of rude and fober life; 
Of labour fuch. By health the peafant's toil 
Is well repaid ; if exercife were pain 
Indeed, and temperance pain. By arts like thefe 35 
Laconia nurs'd of old her hardy fons ; 
And Rome's unconquer'd legions urg'd their way. 
Unhurt, through every toil in every clime. 

Toil, and beftrong. By toil the flaccid nerves 
Grow firm, and gain a more compafted tone; 40 

The greener juices are by toil fubdu'd. 
Mellow 'd, and fubtiliz'd ; the vapid old 
Expell'd, and all the rancour of the blood. 
Come, my companions, ye who feel the charms 
Of nature and the year : come, let us ftray 45" 

Where chance or fancy leads our roving walk : 

D 3 Come, 



38 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Come, while the foft voluptuous breezes fan 

The fleecy heavens, enwrap the limbs in balm. 

And (hed a charming languor o'er the foul. 

Nor when bright Winter fows with prickly froft 50 

The vigorous ether, in unmanly warmth 

Indulge at home; nor even when Eurus' blafts 

This way and that convolve thelab'ring woods. 

My liberal walks, five when the ikies in rain 

Or fogs relent, no feafon fhould confine 5j; 

Or to the cloifter'd gallery or arcade. 

Go, climb the mountain ; from th' ethereal fource 

Imbibe the recent gale. The chearful morn 

Beams o'er the hills ; go, mount th' exulting fteed. 

Already, fee, the deep-mouth'd beagles catch 60 

The tainted mazes; and, on eager fport 

Intent, with emulous impatience try 

Each doubtful trace. Or, if a nobler prey 

Delight you more, go chafe the defperate deer; 

And through its deepeft folitudes awake 65 

The vocal foreft with the jovial horn. 

But if the breathlefs chafe o'er hill and dale 
Exceed your ftrength; a fport of lefs fatigue. 
Not lefs delightful, the prolific ftream 
Affords. The cryftal rivulet, that o'er 70 

A ftony channel rolls its rapid maze. 
Swarms with the filver fry. Such, through the bounds 
Of paftoral Stafford, runs the brawling Trent ; 
Such Eden, fprung from Cumbrian mountains ; fuch 
The Efk, o'erhung with woods ; and fuch the ftream 
On whofe Arcadian banks I firft drew air, 76 

Liddalj 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 39 

Liddal ; till now, except in Doric lays 

Tun'd to her murmurs by her love-fick fwains. 

Unknown in fong: Though not a purer ftream, 79 

Thro' meads more flowery or more romantic groves. 

Rolls toward the weftern main. Hail, facred flood ! 

May ftill thy hofpitable fwains be bleft 

In rural innocence ; thy mountains ftill 

Teem with the fleecy race ; thy tuneful woods 

For ever flourifh ; and thy vales look gay S5; 

"With painted meadows, and the golden grain ! 

Oft, with thy blooming fons, when life was new. 

Sportive and petulant, and charm 'd with toys. 

In thy tranfparent eddies have I lav'd : 

Oft trac'd with patient fteps thy fairy banks, go 

With the well-imitated fly to hook 

The eager trout, and with the flenderline 

And yielding rod follicite to the (hore 

The flruggling panting prey ; while vernal clouds 

And tepid gales obfcur'd the ruffled pool, 95 

And from the deeps call'd forth the wanton fwarms. 

Form'd on the Samian fchool, or thofe of Ind, 
There are who think thefe paftimes fcarce humane. 
Yet in my mind (and not relentlefs I) 
His life is pure that wears no fouler ftains. 1 00 

But if through genuine tendernefs of heart. 
Or fecret want of relifh for the game. 
You fliun the glories of the chace, nor care 
To haunt the peopled ftream ; the garden yields 
A foft amufement, an humane delight. 1 05; 

To raife th' infipid nature of the ground j 

D 4 Or 



40 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Or tame its favage genius to the grace 

Of carelefs fweet rufticity, that feems 

The amiable refult of happy chance. 

Is to create; and gives a god-like joy, i lo 

Which every year improves. Nor thou difdain 

To check the lavvlefs riot of the trees. 

To plant the grove, or turn the barren mould. 

O happy he! whom, when his years decline, 

(His fortune and his fame by worthy means 115 

Attain'd, and equal to his moderate mind ; 

His life approv'd by all the wife and good. 

Even envied by the vain) the peaceful groves 

Of Epicurus, from this ftormy world. 

Receive to reft; of all ungrateful cares 120 

Abfolv'd, and facred from the felfifh crowd. 

Happieft of men ! if the fame foil invites 

A chofen few, companions of his youth. 

Once fellow-rakes perhaps, now rural friends; 

With whom in eafy commerce to purfue 125 

Nature's free charms, and vie for fylvan fame : 

A fair ambition; void of ftrife or guile. 

Or jealoufy, or pain to be outdone. 

Who plans th' enchanted garden, who direfls 

The viftobeft, and beft condufts theftream; 130 

Whofe groves the fafteft thicken and afcend ; 

Whom firft the welcome fpring falutes ; who fhevvs 

The earlieft bloom, the fweeteft proudeft charms 

Of Flora; who beft gives Pomona's juice 

To match the fprightly genius of champain. 135 

Thrice happy days! in rural bufmefs paft: 

5 Bleft 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 41 

Eleft winter nights ! when as the genial fire 

Cheats the wide hall, his cordial family 

With foft domeftic arts the hours beguile. 

And pleafing talk that ftarts no timorous fame, 140 

"With witlefs wantonnefs to hunt it down : 

Or through the fairy land of tale or fong 

Delighted wander, in fiftitious fates 

Engag'd, and all that ftrikes humanity: 

Till loft in fable, they the ftealing hour 145 

Of timely reft forget. Sometimes, at eve 

His neighbours lift the latch, and blefs unbid 

His feftal roof ; while, o'er the light repaft. 

And fprightly cups, they mix in focial joy ; 

And, through the maze of converfation, trace 150 

Whate'er amufes or improves the mind. 

Sometimes at eve (for I delight to tafte 

The native zeft and flavour of the fruit. 

Where fenfe grows wild and takes of no manure) 

The decent, honeft, chearful hufbandman 155 

Should drown his labours in my friendly bowl; 

And at my table find himfelf at home. 

Whate'er you ftudy, in whate'er you fweat. 
Indulge your tafte. Some love the manly foils; 
The tennis fome; and fome the graceful dance. 160 
Others more hardy, range the purple heath. 
Or naked ftubble; where from field to field 
The founding coveys urge their labouring flight; 
Eager amid the rifing cloud to pour 
The gun's unerring thunder ; And there are 1 6^ 

Whom 



4* ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Whom ftill the * meed of the green archer charms* 
He chufes beft, whofe labour entertains 
His vacant fancy moft : The toil you hate 
Fatigues you foon, and fcarce improves your limbs. 

As beauty ftill has blemifli; and the mind 1 70 

The moft accomplilh'd its imperfeft fide; 
Few bodies are there of that happy mould 
But fome one part is weaker than the reft : 
The legs, perhaps, or arms refufe their load. 
Or the cheft labours. Thefe affiduoufly, 175 

But gently, in their proper arts employed. 
Acquire a vigour and fpringy activity 
To which they were not born. But weaker parts 
Abhor fatigue and violent difcipline. 

Begin with gentle toils; and, as your nerves 180 
Grow firm, to hardier by juft fteps afpire. 
The prudent, even in every moderate walk. 
At firft but faunter; and by flow degrees 
Increafe their pace. This dodlrine of the wife 
Well knows the mafter of the flying fteed. 1 S5 

Firft from the goal the manag'd courfers play 
On bended reins : as yet the fkilful youth 
Reprefs their foamy pride ; but every breath 
The race grows warmer, and the tempeft fwells ; 
Till all the fiery mettle has its way, 190 

And the thick thunder hurries o'er the plain. 
When all at once from indolence to toil 

♦ This word is much ufed by fome of the old Englifli poets, and 
fignifies Rtii'ard oxPri^f. 

Yow 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 45 

You fpring, the fibres by the hafty fhock 

Are tir'd and crack'd, before their unftuous coats, 

Comprefs'd, can pour the lubricating balm. 19J 

Befides, collefted in the paflive veins. 

The purple mafs a fudden torrent rolls, 

O'erpowers the heart and deluges the lungs 

With dangerous inundation : oft the fource 

Of fatal woes ; a cough that foams with blood, 200 

Afthma and feller * Peripneumony, 

Or the {low minings of the hedlic fire. 

Th' athletic Fool, to whom what heav'n deny'd 
Of foul is well compenfated in limbs. 
Oft from his rage, or bralnlefs frolic, feels 20^ 

His vegetation and brute force decay. 
The men of better clay and finer mould 
Know nature, feel the human dignity ; 
And fcorn to vie with oxen or with apes, 
Purfu'd prolixly, even the gentleft toil 219 

Is wafte of health : repofe by fmall fatigue 
Is earn'd ; and (v/here your habit is not prone 
To thaw) by the firft moifture of the brows. 
The fine and fubtle fpirits coft too much 
To be profus'd, too much the rofcid balm, 215 

But when the hard varieties of life 
You toil to learn ; or try the dufty chace. 
Or the warm deeds of fome important day: 
Hot from the field, indulge not yet your limbs 
In wifli'd repofe; nor court the fanning gale, 220 
J^or tafte the fpring. O ! by the facred tears 

♦ The inflammation of the lungi. 

Of 



^^ ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Of widows, orphans, mothers, fitters, fires. 

Forbear! No other peftilence has driven 

Such myriads o'er th' irremeable deep. 

Why this fo fatal, the fagacious Mufe 225 

Through nature's cunning labyrinth's could trace : 

But there are fecrets which who knows not now, 

Muft, ere he reach them, climb the heapy Alps 

Of fcience; and devote feven years to toil. 

Befides, I would not ftun your patient ears 230 

With what it little boots you to attain. 

He knows enough, the mariner, who knows 

Where lurk the fhelves, and where the whirlpools boil. 

What figns portend the ftorm : To fubtler minds 

He leaves tofcan, from what myfterious caufe 235 

Charybdis rages in th' Ionian wave; 

Whence thofe impetuous currents in the main 

Which neither oar nor fail can ftem ; and why 

The roughening deep expefts the ftorm, as fure 

As red Orion mounts the fhrouded heaven. 240 

In ancient times, when Rome with Athens vied 
For poli(h"d luxury and ufeful arts ; 
All hot and reeking from th' Olympic ftrife. 
And warm Peleftra, in the tepid bath 
Th' athletic youth relax'd their weary limbs. 24^ 

Soft oils bedew "d them, with the grateful pow'rs 
Of Nard and Caffia fraught, to footh and heal 
The cherilh'd nerves. Our lefs voluptuous clime 
Not much invites us to fuch arts as thefe. 
'Tis not for thofe, whom gelid Ikies embrace," 250 
And chilling fogs ; whofe perfpiration feels 

Such 



I 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 45 

Such frequent bars from Eurus and the North ; 
'Tis not for thofe to cultivate a fkin 
Too foft ; or teach the recremental fume 
Too faft to crowd through fuch precarious ways, 255 
For through the fmall arterial mouths, that pierce 
In endlefs millions the clofe-woven fkin. 
The bafer fluids in a conftant ftream 
Efcape, and viewlefs melt into the winds. 
While this eternal, this moft copious, wafte 260 

Of blood, degenerate into vapid brine. 
Maintains its wonted meafure, all the powers 
Of health befriend you, all the wheels of life 
With eafe and pleafure move : But this reftrain'd 
Or more or lefs, fo more or lefs you feel 265 

The functions labour : From this fatal fource 
What woes defcend is never to be fung. 
To take their numbers were to count the fands 
That ride in whirlwind the parch'd Libyan air ; 
Or waves that, when the bluftering North embroils 
The Baltic, thunder on the German fliore. 270 

Subjeft not then, by foft emollient arts. 
This grand expence, on which your fates depend. 
To every caprice of the Iky ; nor thwart' 
The genius of your clime: For from the blood 275 
Leaft fickle rife the recremental fleams. 
And leaft obnoxious to the ftyptic air. 
Which breathe thro' ftraiter and more callous pores. 
The temper'd Scythian hence, half-naked treads 
His boundlefs fnows, nor rues th' inclement heaven; 
And hence our painted anceftors defied 2 8 1 

The 



^^ ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Of widows, orphans, mothers, fifters, fires. 

Forbear! No other peftilence has driven 

Such myriads o'er th' irremeable deep. 

Why this fo fatal, the fagacious Mufe 22^ 

Through nature's cunning labyrinth's could trace : 

But there are fecrets which who knows not now, 

Muft, ere he reach them, climb the heapy Alps 

Of fcience; and devote feven years to toil. 

Befides, I would not ftun your patient ears 230 

With what it little boots you to attain. 

He knows enough, the mariner, who knows 

Where lurk the fhelves, and where the whirlpools boil. 

What figns portend the ftorm : To fubtler minds 

He leaves tofcan, from what myfterious caufe 235 

Charybdis rages in th' Ionian wave; 

Whence thofe impetuous currents in the main 

Which neither oar nor fail can ftem ; and why 

The roughening deep expefts the ftorm, as fure 

As red Orion mounts the fhrouded heaven. 240 

In ancient times, when Rome with Athens vied 
For polifa'd luxury and ufeful arts ; 
All hot and reeking from th' Olympic ftrife. 
And warm Peleftra, in the tepid bath 
Th' athletic youth relax'd their weary limbs. 245 

Soft oils bedew 'd them, with the grateful pow'rs 
Of Nard and Caffia fraught, to footh and heal 
The cherifh'd nerves. Our lefs voluptuous clime 
Not much invites us to fuch arts as thefe. 
'Tis not for thofe, whom gelid Ikies embrace," 250 
And chilling fogs ; whofe perfpiration feels 

Such 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. ^5 

Such frequent bars from Eurus and the North; 
'Tis not for thofe to cultivate a fkin 
Too foft ; or teach the recremental fume 
Too faft to crowd through fuch precarious ways, 255 
For through the fmall arterial mouths, that pierce 
In endlefs millions the clofe -woven fkin. 
The bafer fluids in a conftant ftream 
Efcape, and viewlefs melt into the winds. 
While this eternal, this moft copious, wafte 260 

Of blood, degenerate into vapid brine. 
Maintains its wonted meafure, all the powers 
Of health befriend you, all the wheels of life 
With eafe and pleafure move : But this reftrain'd 
Or more or lefs, fo more or lefs you feel 265 

The functions labour : From this fatal fource 
What woes defcend is never to be fung. 
To take their numbers were to count the fands 
That ride in whirlwind the parch'd Libyan air ; 
Or waves that, when the bluftering North embroils 
The Baltic, thunder on the German fhore, 270 

Subjeft not then, by foft emollient arts. 
This grand expence, on which your fates depend. 
To every caprice of the flcy ; hor thwart' 
The genius of your clime : For from the blood 27^ 
Leaft fickle rife the recremental fteams. 
And leaft obnoxious to the ftyptic air. 
Which breathe thro' ftraiter and more callous pores. 
The temper'd Scythian hence, half-naked treads 
His boundlefs fnows, nor rues th' inclement heaven; 
And hence our painted anceftors defied 2 8 r 

The 



45 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

The Eaft: nor curs'd, like us, their fickle Iky. 
The body, moulded by the clime, endures 
Th' Equator heats or Hyperborean froft : 
Except by habits foreign to its turn, 285 

Unwife you counteraft its forming pow'r. 
Rude at the firft, the winter fhocks you lefs 
By long acquaintance : ftudy then your fky. 
Form to its manners your obfequious frame. 
And learn to fuffer what you cannot fhun, 290 

Againft the rigours of a damp cold heav'n 
To fortify their bodies, fome frequent 
The gelid ciftern ; and, where nought forbids, 
I praife their dauntlefs heart : A frame fo fteel'd 
Dreads not the cough, nor thofe ungenial blafts 29^ 
That breathe the Tertian or fell Rheumatifm ; 
The nerves fo temper'd never quit their tone. 
No chronic languors haunt fuch hardy breafts. 
But all things have their bounds : and he who makes 
By daily ufe the kindell regimen 300 

Effential to his health, fliould never mix 
With humankind, nor art nor trade purfue. 
He not the fafe viciifitudes of life 
Without fome fliock endures ; ill fitted he 
To want the known, or bear unufual things 30^ 

Befides, the powerful remedies of pain 
(Since pain in fpite of all our care will come) 
Should never with your profperous days of health 
Grow too familiar : For by frequent ufe 
The ftrongeft medicines lofe their healing power. 
And even the furelt poifons theirs to kill, 31 1 

Let 



I 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 47 

Let thofe who from the frozen Arftos reach 
Parch'd Mauritania, or the fultry Weft, 
Or the wide flood that laves rich Indoftan, 
Plunge thrice a day, and in the tepid wave 31 j; 

Untwift their ftubborn pores; that full and free 
Th' evaporation through the foften'd ftiin 
May bear proportion to the fwelling blood. 
So may they 'fcape the fever's rapid flames ; 
So feel untainted the hot breath of hell. ^20 

With us, the man of no complaint demands 
The warm ablution juft enough to clear 
Thefluices of the fkin, enough to keep 
The body facred from indecent foil. 
Still to be pure, ev'n did it not conduce 32c 

(As much it does) to health, were greatly worth 
Your daily pains. 'Tis this adorns the rich; 
The want of this is poverty's worft woej 
With this external virtue Age maintains 
A decent grace ; without it youth and charms 330 
Are loathfomc. This the venal Graces know; 
So doubtlefs do your wives : For married fires. 
As well as lovers, ftill pretend to tafte ; 
Nor is it lefs (all prudent wives can tell) 
To lofe a hufband's than a lover's heart. 33^ 

But now the hours and feafons when to toil 
From foreign themes recall my wandering fong. 
Some labour fafting, or but flightly fed 
To lull the grinding ftomach's hungry rage. 
Where nature feeds too corpulent a frame 340 

'Tis wifely done : For while the thirfty veins. 

Impatient 



4S ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Impatient of lean penury, devour 

The treafur'd oil, then is the happieft time 

To (hake the lazy balfam from its cells. 

Now while the ftomach from the full repaft 345' 

Subfides, but ere returning hunger gnaws. 

Ye leaner habits, give an hour to toil : 

And ye whom no luxuriancy of growth 

Oppreffes yet, or threatens to opprefs. 

But from the recent meal no labours pleafe, 350 

Of limbs or mind. For now the cordial powers 

Claim all the wandering fpirits to a work 

Of fcrong and fubtle toil, and great event : 

A work of time : and you may rue the day 

You hurried, Vv'ith untimely exercife, 25S 

A half-concofted chyle into the blood. 

The body overcharg'd with unctuous phlegm 

Much toil demands : The lean elaftic lefs. 

While winter chills the blood and binds the veins. 

No labours are too hard : By thofe you 'fcape 360 

The flow difeafes of the torpid year; 

Endlefs to name; to one of which alone. 

To that which tears the nerves, the toil of flaves 

Is pleafure; Oh! from fuch inhuman pains 

May all be free who merit not the wheel! 365 

But from the burning Lion when the fun 

Pours down his fultry wrath ; now while the blood 

Too much already maddens in the veins. 

And all the finer fluids through the fkin 

Explore their flight ; me, near the cool cafcade 370 

Reclin'd, or fauntring in the lofty grove, 

No 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 45 

No needlefs flight occafion fhould engage 

To pant and fweat beneath the fiery noon. 

Now the frefli morn alone and mellow eve 

To Ihady walks and active rural fports j^C 

Invite. But, while the chilling dews defcend, 

-May nothing tempt you to the cold embrace 

Of humid fkies ; though 'tis no vulgar joy 

To trace the horrors of the folemn wood 

While the foft evening faddens into night, 380 

Though the fweet Poet of the vernal groves 

Melts all the night in ftrains of am'rous woe. 

The fliades defcend, and midnight o'er the world 
Expands her fable wings. Great Nature droops 
Through all her works. Now happy he whofe toil 3 S^ 
Has o'er his languid powerlefs limbs diiFus'd. 
A pleafmg laffitude : He not in vain 
Invokes the gentle Deity of dreams. 
His powers the moft voluptuoufly diffolve 

■ In foft repofe : On him the balmy dews 350 

Of fleep with double nutriment defcend. 

But would you fweetly wafte the blank of nlgKt 

In deep oblivion ; or on Fancy's wings 

Vifit the paradife of happy Dreams, 

And waken chearful as the lively morn ; 395 

Opprefs not Nature fmking down to red 

With fcafts too late, too folid, or too full : 

But be the firft concoftion half-matur'd 

Ere you to mighty indolence refign 

Your paffive faculties. He from the toils 400 

And troubles of the day to heavier toil 
Vol. LXXI. E Retires, 



50 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Retires, whom trembling from the tower that rocks 

Amid the clouds, or Calpe's hideous height. 

The bufy demons hurl ; or in the main 

O'erwhelm; or bury ftruggling under ground. ^05 

Not all a monarch's luxury the woes 

Can counterpoife of that moft wretched man, 

Whofe nights are fhaken with the frantic fits 

Of wild Oreftes ; whofe delirious brain 409 

Stung by the Furies, works with poifon'd thought: 

While pale and monftrous painting fliocks the foul; 

And mangled confcioufnefs bemoans itfelf 

¥or ever torn ; and chaos floating round. 

What dreams prefage, what dangers thefe or thofe 

Portend to fanity, though prudent feers 41 3: 

Reveal'd of old and men of deathlefs fame. 

We would not to the fuperftitious mind 

Suggeft new throbs, new vanities of fear, 

'Tis ours to teach you from the peaceful night 

To banifh omens and all reftlefs woes. 420 

In ftudy feme protraft the filent hours. 
Which others confecrate to mirth and v.-ine; 
And fleep till noon, and hardly live till night. 
But furely this redeems not from the (hades 
One hour of life. Nor does it nought avail 42^ 

What feafon you to drowfy Morpheus give 
Of th' ever-varying circle of the day; 
Or whether, through the tedious winter gloom. 
You tempt the midnight or the morning damps. 
The body, frelh and vigorous from repofe, 43 a 

Pefies the early fogs : but, by the toils 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 51 

Of wakeful day, exhaufted and unftrung. 

Weakly refifts the night's unwholefome breath. 

The grand difcharge, th' efFufion of the (kin. 

Slowly impair'd, the languid maladies 43J 

Creep on, and through the fickning funflions fteal. 

As, when the chilling Eaft invades the fpring. 

The delicate NarcifTus pines away 

In heftic languor ; and a flow difeafe 

Taints all the family of flowers, condemn 'd 440 

To cruel heav'ns. But why, already prone 

To fade, fliould beauty cherifli its own bane ? 

O fliame ! O pity! nipt with pale Quadrille, 

And midnight cares, the bloom of Albion dies! 

By toil fubdued, the Warrior and the Hind 44J 
Sleep fall and deep: their aflive funftions foon 
With generous fl:reams the fubtle tubes fupply; 
And foon the tonic irritable nerves 
Feel thefrefli impulfe and awake the&ul. 
Thefons of indolence with long repofe, 4j;o 

Grow torpid ; and with flowefl: Lethe drunk. 
Feebly and lingringly return to life. 
Blunt every fenfe and powerlefs every limb. 
Ye, prone to fleep (whom fleeping mofl; annoys) 
On the hard mattrefs or elaftic couch 4^;^ 

Extend your limbs, and wean yourfelves from floth; 
Nor grudge the lean projedlor, of dry brain 
And fpringy nerves, the blandifliments of down: 
Nor envy while the buried Bacchanal 
Exhales his furfeit in prolixer dreams, 460 

E 2 He 



5» ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

He without riot, in the balmy feaft 

Of life, the wants of nature has fupply'd 

Who rifes, cool, ferene, and full of foul. 

But pliant nature more or lefs demands. 

As cuftom forms her; and all fudden change 46^ 

She hates of habit, even from bad to good. 

If faults in life, or new emergencies, 

From habits urge you by longtime confirm'd. 

Slow may the change arrive, and ftage by ftage ; 

Slow as the fhadow o'er the dial moves, 470 

Slow as the ftealing progrefs of the year. 

Obferve the circling year. How unperceiv'd 
Herfeafons change! Behold! by flow degrees. 

Stern Winter tam'd into a ruder Spring ; 
The ripen'd Spring a milder S ummer glows; 47 J 

Departing Summer fheds Pomona's flore ; 
And aged Autumn brews the winter-ftorm. 
Slow as they come, thefe changes come not void 
Of mortallhocks : The cold and torrid reigns. 
The two great periods of th' important year, 480 

Are in their firft approaches feldom fafe : 
Funereal Autumn all the fickly dread. 
And the black fates deform the lovely Spring. 
He well advis'd who taught our wifer fires 
Early to borrow Mufcovy's warm fpoiis, 485 

Ere the firft froft has touch'd the tender blade; 
And late refign them, though the wanton Spring 
Should deck her charms with all her fitter's rays. 
For while the effluence of the fkin maintains 
Its native meafure> the pleuritic Spring 490 

Glides 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 53 

Glides harmlefs by; and Autumn, fick to death 
With fallow Quartans, no contagion breathes. 

I in prophetic numbers could unfold 
T'he omens of the year : what feafons teem 
With what difeafes; what the humid South 49^ 

Prepares, and what the Demon of the Eaft : 
But you perhaps refufe the tedious fong. 
Befides, whatever plagues in heat, or cold. 
Or drought, or moifture dwell, they hurt not you, 
Skill'd to corredl the vices of the fky, 5;oo 

And taught already how to each extream 
To bend your life. But (hould the public bane 
Infeft you ; or fome trefpafs of your own. 
Or flaw of nature, hint mortality : 
Soon as a not unpleafing horror glides jo^ 

Along the fpine, through all your torpid limbs ; 
When firft the head throbs, or the ftomach feels 
A fickly load, a weary pain the loins; 
Be Celfus call'd : The Fates come rufliing on ; 
The rapid Fates admit of no delay. ^ i o 

While wilful you, and fatally fecure, 
Expeft to-morrow's more aufpicious fun. 
The growing peft, whofe infancy was weak 
And eafy vanquifh'd, with triumphant fway 
O'erpowers your life. For want of timely care, 5 1 5 
Millions have died of medicable wounds. 

Ah ! in what perils is vain life engag'd! 
What flight neglefts, what trivial faults deflroy 
The hardieft frame ! of indolence, of toil. 
We die ; of want, of fuperfluity : 520 

E 3 The 



51- ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

The all-furrounding heaven, the vital air. 
Is big with death. And, though the putrid South 
Be (hut; though no convulfive agony- 
Shake, from the deep foundations of the world, 
Th' imprifoned plagues; a fecret venom oft 525 

Corrupts the air, the water, and the land. 
What livid deaths has fad Byzantium feen ! 
How oft has Cairo, ^\■ith a mother's woe. 
Wept oe'er her flaughter'd fons and lonely ftreets ! 
Even Albion, girt with lefs malignant fkies, 539 

Albion the poifon of the Gods has drank. 
And felt the fting of monfters all her own. 

Ere yet the fell Plantagenets had fpent 
Their ancient rage, at Bofworth's purple field ; 
While, for which tyrant England (hould receive, 555 
Her legions in inceftuous murders mix'd. 
And daily horrors ; till the Fates were drunk 
With kindred blood by kindred hands profus'd : 
Another plague of more gigantic arm 
Arofe, a monfter never known before, 540 

Rear'd from Cocytus its portentous head. 
This rapid Fury not, like other pcfts, 
Purfu'd a gradual courfe, but in a day 
Rufli'd as a ftorm o'er half th' aftoniftied ifle. 
And ftrew'd with fudden carcafes the land. 54^ 

Firft through the fhoulders or whatever part 
Was feiz'd the firft, a fervid vapour fprung. 
With rafli combuftion thence, the quivering fpark 
Shot to the heart, and kindled all within ; 
And foon the furface caught the fpreading fires. 5^0 
Through all the yielding pores, the melted blood 

Gufh'd 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. ^ 

Gudi'd out in fmoaky fweats ; but nought affuag'd 

The torrid heat within, nor aught reliev'd 

The ftomach's anguifh. With inceflant toil, 

Defperate of eafe, impatient of their pain, 55^ 

They tofs'd from fide to fide. In vain the ftreara 

Ran full and clear, they burnt and thirfted ftill. 

The reftlefs arteries with rapid blood 

Beat ftrong and frequent. Thick and pantingly 

The breath was fetch'd, and with huge lab'rings heav'd. 

At laft a heavy pain opprefs'd the head, 561 

A wild delirium came ; their weeping friends 

Were ftrangers now, and this no home of theirs. 

Harrafs'd with toil on toil, the finking powers 

Lay proftrate and o'erthrown; a ponderous fleep ^6^ 

Wrapt all the fenfes up : they flept and died. 

In fome a gentle horror crept at firft 
Oer all the limbs ; the fluices of the fkin 
Withheld their moifture, till by art provok'd 
The fweats o'erflow'd; but in a clammy tide: 1,70 

Now free and copious, now reftrain'd and flow j 
Of tinftures various, as the temperature 
Had mix"d the blood; and rank with fetid fteams : 
As if the pent-up humours by delay 
Were grown more fell, more putrid, and malign. 57^ 
Here lay their hopes; (though little hope reraain'd) 
With full efFufion of perpetual fweats 
To drive the venom out. And here the fates 
Were kind, that long they linger'd not in pain. 
For who furviv'd the fun's diurnal race 580 

Rofe from the dreary gates of hell redeem'd : 
Some the fixth hour opprefs'd, and fome the third, 

E 4 Of 



56 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Of many thoufands few untainted 'fcap'd; 
Of thofe infefted fewer "fcap'd alive ; 
Of thofe who livd fome felt a fecond blow; 58^ 

And whom the fecond fpar'd a third deftroy'd. 
Frantic with fear, they fought by flight to fhun] 
The fierce contagion. O'er the mournful land 
Th' infefted city pour'd her hurrying fwarms : 
Rous'd by the flames that fir'd her feats around, 590 
Th' infedled country rufli'd into the town. 
Some, fad at home, and in the defart fome, 
Abjur'd the fatal commerce of mankind ; 
In vain : where'er they fled, the Fates purfu'd. 
Others, with hopes more fpecious, crofs'd the main. 
To feek proteftion in far diftant fkies; 596 

But none they found. It feem'd the general air. 
From pole to pole, from Atlas to the Eaft, 
Was then at enmity with Englifh blood. 
For, but the race of England, all were fafe 
In foreign climes ; nor did this Fury tafte 600 

The foreign blood which England then contain'd. 
Where fliould they fly? The circumambient heaven 
Involv'dthem ftill; and every breeze was bane. 
Wliere find relief ? The falutary art 
Was mute; and ftartled at the new difeafe, 605' 

In fearful whifpers hopelefs omens gave. '';■ 

To Heaven with fuppliant rites they fent their prayers; 
Heaven heard them not. Of every hope deprived ; 
Fatigu'd with vain refources; and fubduedj 
With woes refiftlefs and enfeebling fear; 610 

Paffive they funk beneath the weighty blow. 
Nothing but lamentable founds was heard, 

NoJ 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 57 

Nor aught wasfeenbut ghaftly views of death. 

Infeftious horror ran from face to face. 

And paledefpair. 'Twas all the bufinefs then 615 

To tend the fick, and in their turns to die. 

In heaps they fell: and oft one bed, they fay. 

The fickening, dying, and the dead contained. 

Ye guardian Gods, on whom the Fates depend 
Of tottering Albion! ye eternal Fires 620 

That lead through heaven the wandering year! yepowers 
That o'er th' incircling elements prefide! 
May nothing worfe than what this age has feen 
Arrive! Enough abroad, enough at home 
Has Albion bled. Here a diftemper'd heaven 625 
Has thin'd her cities ; from thofe lofty cliffs 
That awe proud Gaul, to Thule's wintry reign; 
While in the Weft, beyond th' Atlantic foam. 
Her braveft fons, keen for the fight, have dy'd. 
The death of cowards and of common men : 630 

Sunk void of wounds, and fall'n without renown. 

But from thefe views^the weeping Mufes turn. 
And other themes invite my wandering fong. 



THE 



[ 58 ] 
THE ART 

O F 

PRESERVING HEALTH. 
B O O K IV. 

THE PASSIONS. 

THE choice of Aliment, the choice of Air, 
The ufe of Toil and all external things. 
Already fung ; it now remains to trace 
What good, what evil from ourfelves proceeds : 
And how the fubtle Principle within j 

Infpires with health, or mines with ftrange decay 
The paflive Body. Ye poetic Shades, 
Who know the iecrets of the world unfeen, 
Affift my fong ! For, in a doubtful theme 
Engag'd, I wander through myfterious ways. IC 

There is, they fay (and I believe there is) 
A fpark within us of th' immortal fire. 
That animates and moulds the groffer frame; 
And when the body fmks efcapes to heaven. 
Its native feat, and mixes with the Gods. 15 

Mean while this heavenly particle pervades 
The mortal elements; in every nerve 



^ 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 59 

It thrills with pleafure, or grows mad with pain. 

And, in its fecret conclave, as it feels 

The body's wees and joys, this ruling power 20 

Wields at its will the dull material world. 

And is the body's health or malady. 

By its own toil the grofs corporeal frame 
Fatigues, extenuates, or deftroys itfclf. 
Nor lefs the labours of the mind corrode 25 

The folid fabric : for by fubtle parts 
And viewlefs atoms, fecret Nature moves 
The mighty wheels of this ftupendous world. 
By fubtle fluids pour'd through fubtle tubes 
The natural, vital, functions are perform'd. 30 

By thefe the ftubborn aliments are tam'd; 
The toiling heart diftributes life and ftrength ; 
Thefe the ftill-crumbling frame rebuild; and thefe 
Are loft in thinking, and diffolve in air. 

But 'tis not Thought (for ftill the foul's employ 'd) 
'Tis painful thinking that corrodes our clay. 36 

All day the vacant eye vvithout fatigue 
Strays o'er the heaven and earth ; but long intent 
On microfcopic arts its vigour fails. 
Juft fo the mind, with various thought amus'd, 40 
Nor akes itfelf, nor gives the body pain. 
But anxious Study, Difcontent, and Care, 
Love without hope, and Hate without revenge. 
And Fear, and Jealoufy, fatigue the foul, 
Engrofs the fubtle minifters of life, 45 

And fpoil the lab'ring functions of their fhare. 
Hence the lean gloom that Melancholy wears; 

4 The 



6o ARMSTRONG'S POExMS. 

The Lover's palenefs ; and the fallow hue 

Of Envy, Jealoufy; the meagre flare 

Of fore Revenge: the canker'd bod}- hence 50 

Eetrays each fretful motion of the mind. 

The ftrong-built pedant; who both night and day 
Feeds on the coarfeft fare the fchools beftow. 
And crudely fattens at grofs Burman's ftall; 
0'erwhelm"d with phlegm lies in a dropfy drown'd. 
Or finks in lethargy before his time. 56 

With ufeful ftudies you, and arts that pleafe 
Employ your mind, amufe but not fatigue. 
Peace to each droufy metaphyfic fage ! 
And ever may all heavy fyftems reft! 60 

Yet fome there are, even of elaftic parts. 
Whom ftrong and obftinate ambition leads 
Through all the rugged roads of barren lore. 
And gives to relifh what their generous tafte 
Would elfe refufe. But may nor thirft of fame, 6^ 
Nor love of knowledge, urge you to fatigue 
With conftant drudgery the liberal foul. 
Toy with your books; and, as the various fits 
Of humour feize you, from Philofophy 
To Fable fliift] from ferious Antonine •to 

To Rabelais' ravings, and from profe to fong. 

While reading pleafes, but no longer, read; 
And read aloud refounding Homer's ftrain. 
And wield the thunder of Demofthenes. 
The cheft fo exercis'd improves its ftrength; 7^ 

And quick vibrations through the bowels drive 
The xelllefs blood, which in una^ve days 

Would 






ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. fii 

Would loiter elfe through unelaftic tubes. 

Deem it not trifling while I recommend 

What pofture fuits : ^To ftand and fit by turns, 80 

As nature prompts, is beft. But o'er your leaves 

To lean for ever, cramps the vital parts. 

And robs the fine machinery of its play. 

'Tis the great art of life to manage well 
The reftlefs mind. For ever on purfuit 85 

Of knowledge bent, it ftarves the groflfer powers : 
Quite unemploy'd, againft its own repofe 
It turns its fatal edge, and fliarper pangs 
Than w hat the body knows embitter life. 
Chiefly where Solitude, fad nurfe of Care, 9a 

To fickly mufing gives the penfive mind. 
There Madnefs enters; and the dim-ey'd Fiend, 
Sour Melancholy, night and day provokes 
Her own eternal wound. The fun grows palej 
A mournful vifionary light o'erfpreads 95 

The chearful face of nature : earth becomes 
A dreary defart, and heaven frowns above. 
Then various fliapes of curs'd illufion rife: 
Whate'er the wretched fears, creating Fear 
Forms out of nothing; and with monfters teems 1 00 
Unknown in hell. The proftrate foul beneath 
A load of huge imagination heaves ; 
And all the horrors that the murderer feels 
With anxious flutterings wake the guiltlefs breaft. 

Such phantoms Pride in folitary fcenes, 1 05 

Or Fear, on delicate Self-love creates. 
From other cares abfolv'd, the bufy mind 

Finds 



6a ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Finds in yourfelf a theme to pore upon ; 

It finds you miferable, or makes you fo. 

For while yourfelf you anxioufly explore, i lo 

Timorous Self-love, with fickning Fancy's aid, 

Prefents the danger that you dread the moft. 

And ever galls you in your tender part. 

Hence fome for love, and fome for jealoufy. 
For grim religion fome, and fome for pride, i ic 

Have loft their reafon: fome for fear of want 
Want all their lives ; and others every day 
For fear of dying fuffer worfe than death. 
Ah! from your bofoms banifh, if you can, 
Thofe fatal guefts : and firfl the Dsemon Fear; 120 
That trembles at impoflible events. 
Left aged Atlas fhould refign his load. 
And heaven's eternal battlements rufh down. 
Is there an evil worfe than Fear itfelf ? 
Apd what avails it, that indulgent heaven rzjf 

From mortal eyes has wrapt the woes to come. 
If we, ingenious to torment ourfelves. 
Grow pale at hideous fiiftions of our own ? 
Enjoy the prefent; nor with needlefs cares. 
Of what may fpring from blind misfortune's womb. 
Appall the fureft hour that life beftows. 131 

Serene, and mafter of yourfelf, prepare 
For what may come; and leave the reft to Heaven. 

Oft from the Body, by long ails miftun'd, 
Thefe evils fprung the moft important health, 135 
That of the Mind, deftroy : and when the mind 
They firft invade, the confcious body foon 

In 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. $3 

In fympathetic languifliment declijies. 

Thefe chronic Paffions.. while from real woes 

They rife, and yet without the body's fault 140 

Infeft the foul, admit one only cure ; 

Diverfion, hurry, and a reftlefs life. 

Vain are the confolations of the wife ; 

In vain your friends would reafon down your pain. 

O ye, whofe fouls relendefs love has tam'd 14^ 

To foft diftrefs, or friends untimely fall'n! 

Court not the luxury of tender thought; 

Nor deem it impious to forget thofe pains 

That hurt the living, nought avail the dead. 

Go, foft enthufiaft! quit the cyprefs groves, 150 

Nor to the rivulet's lonely moanings tune 

Your fad complaint. Go, feek the chearful haunts 

Of men, and mingle with the buftling crowd ; 

Lay fchemes for wealth, or power, or fame, the wi(h 

Of nobler minds, and pufh them night and day. 

Or join the caravan in queft of fcenes 156 

New to your eyes, and fhifting every hour. 

Beyond the Alps, beyond the Apennines. 

Or more advent'rous, rufh into the field 

Where war grows hot ; and, raging through the Iky, 

The lofty trumpet fwells the madd'ning foul; 1 61 

And in the hardy camp and toilfome march 

Forget all fofter and lefs manly cares. 

But moft too paflive, when the blood runs low. 
Too weakly indolent to ftrive with pain, 16^ 

And bravely by refitting conquer Fate, 
Try Circe's arts ; and in the tempting bowl 

Of 



64 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Of poifon'd Neftar fweet oblivion fwill. 

Struck by the pow'rful charm, the gloom diffolves 

In empty air; Elyfium opens round, lyo 

A pleafing phrenzy buoys the Hghten'd foul. 

And fanguine hopes difpel your fleeting care ; 

And what was difficult, and what was dire. 

Yields to your prowefs and fuperior ftars : 

The happieft you of all that e'er were mad, lyr 

Or are, or Iball be, could this folly laft. 

But foon your heaven is gone; a heavier gloom 

Shuts o'er your head : and, as the thund'ring ftream, 

Swoln o'er its banks with fudden mountain rain. 

Sinks from its tumult to a filent brook; 1 80 

So, when the frantic raptures in your breaft 

Subfide, you languifh into mortal man ; 

You fleep, and waking find you rfelf undone. 

For prodigal of life in one raOi night 1 84 

You lavifh'd more than might fupport three days. 

A heavy morning comes; your cares return 

With tenfold j'age. An anxious ftomach well 

May be endur'd ; fo may the throbbing-head : 

But fuch a dim delirium, fuch a dream. 

Involves you ; fuch a daftardly defpair 190 

Unmans your foul, as madd'ning Pentheus felt. 

When, baited round Cithasron's cruel fides. 

He faw two funs, and double Thebes afcend. 

You curfe the fluggifh Port; you curfe the wretch. 

The felon, with unnatural mixture firft 195 

Who dar'd to violate the virgin Wine. 

Or on the fugitive Champain you pour 

A thoufand 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 65 

A thoufaiid curfes; for to heav'n it rapt 

Your foul, to plunge you deeper in defpair. 

Perhaps you rue even that divineft gift, 200 

The gay, ferene, good-natur'd Burgundy, 

Or the frefli fragrant vintage of the Rhine: 

And wifli that heaven from mortals had with-held 

The grape, and all intoxicating bowls. 

Befides, it wounds you fore to recolleft 205 

What follies in your loofe unguarded hour 
Efcap'd. For one irrevocable word. 
Perhaps that meant no harm, you lofe a friend. 
Or in the rage of wine your hafty hand 
Performs a deed to haunt you to the grave. 210 

Add that your means, your health, your parts decay; 
Your friends avoid you; brutifhly transform 'd 
They hardly know you ; or if one remains 
To wifh you well, he wifhes you in heaven. 
Defpis'd, unwept you fall; who might have left 215 
A facred, cherifli'd, fadly-pleafing name ; 
A name ftill to be utter'd with a figh. 
Your laft ungraceful fcene has quite efFac'd 
All fenfe and memory of your former worth. 

How to live happieft; how avoid the pains, 220 
The difappointments, and difgufts of thofe 
Who would in pleafure all their hours employ ; 
The Precepts here of a divine old man 
I could recite. Though old, he ftill retain'd 
His manly fenfe, and energy of mind. 225 

Virtuous and wife he was, but not fevere ; 
He ftill remember'd that he once was young; 
Vol. LXXI. F His 



c6 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

His eafy prefence check'd no decent joy. 

Him even the diffolute admir'd ; for he 

A graceful loofenefs when he pleas'd put on, 230^ 

And laughing could inftruft. Much had he read. 

Much more had feen; he ftudied from the life. 

And in th' original perus'd mankind. 

Vers'd in the woes and vanities of life. 
He pitied Man : and much he pitied thofe 23 j; 

Whom falfely-fmiling Fate has curs'd with means 
To diffipate their days in queft of joy. 
Our aim is happinefs ; 'tis yours, 'tis mine. 
He faid, 'tis the purfuit of all that live; 
Yet few attain it, if twas e'er attain'd. 24O 

But they the wideft wander from the mark. 
Who through the flow'ry paths of faunt'ring Joy 
Seek this coy Goddefs ; that from ftage to ftage 
Invites us ftill, but fhifts as we purfue. 
For, not to name the pains that pleafure brings 24^ 
To counterpoife itfelf, relentlefs Fate 
Forbids that we through gay voluptuous wilds. 
Should ever roam ; and were the Fates more kind. 
Our narrow luxuries would foon grow ftale. 
Were thefe exhauftlefs. Nature would grow Cck, 250 
And, cloy"d with pleafure, fqueamiflily complain 
That all is vanity, and life a dream. 
Let nature reft: be bufy for yourfelf. 
And for your friend; be bufy even in vain 
Rather than teize her fated appetites. 255 

Who never fafts, no banquet e'er enjoys; 
Who never toils or watches, never fleeps. 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 67 

i.et nature reft: and when the tafte of joy 
Grows keen, indulge; but fliun fatiety. 

'Tis not for mortals always to be bleft. 260 

Kilt him the lead the dull or painful hours 
Of life opprefs, whom fober Senfe conduds. 
And Virtue, through this labyrinth we tread. 
Virtue and Senfe I mean not to disjoin; 
V^irtue and Senfe are one : and, truft me, ftill 265 
A faithlefs Heart betrays the Head unfound. 
Virtue (for mere Good-nature is a fool) 
Is Senfe and Spirit, with Humanity : 
'Tis fometimes angry, and its frown confounds; 
'Tis even vindiftive, but in vengeance juft. 270 

Knaves fain would laugh at it ; fome great ones dare ; 
But at his heart the moft undaunted fon 
Of fortune dreads its name and awful charms. 
To nobleft ufes this determines wealth ; 
This is the folid pomp of profperous days; 27^ 

The peace and (belter of adverfity. 
And if you pant for glory, build your fame 
On this foundation, which the fecret fhock 
Defies of Envy and all-fapping time. 
The gaudy glofs of fortune only ftrikes 280 

The vulgar eye: the fuffrage of the wife. 
The praife that's worth ambition, is attain'd 
By Senfe alone, and dignity of mind. 

Virtue, the ftrength and beauty of the foul, 
h the beft gift of heaven: a happinefs 28^ 

That even above the fmiles and frowns of fate 
Exalts great Nature's favourites : a wealth 

F z That 



68 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

That ne'er encumbers, nor can be transferr'd. 

Riches are oft by guilt and bafenefs earn'd ; 

Or dealt by chance, to fhield a lucky knave, 290 

Or throw a cruel fun-fhine on a fool. 

But for one end, one much-negleded ufe. 

Are riches worth your care : (for Nature's wants 

Are few, and without opulence fupply'd.) 

This noble end is, to produce the Soul; 295 

To {hew the virtues in their faireft light; 

To make Humanity the Minifter 

Of bounteous Providence ; and teach the breaft 

That generous luxury the Gods enjoy. 

Thus, in his graver vein, the friendly Sage 300 
Sometimes declaim'd. Of Right and Wrong he taught 
Truths as refin"d as ever Athens heard ; 
And (ftrange to tell!) he praftis'd what he preach'd. 
Skill'd in the Paffions, how to check their fway 
He knew, as far as Reafon can control 305 

The lawlefs Powers. But other cares are mine : 
Form'd in the fchool of Pson, I relate 
What Paffions hurt the body, what improve : 
Avoid them, or invite them, as you may. 

Know then, whatever chearful and ferene 3 1 o 

Supports the mind, fuppcrts the body too. 
Hence, the moft vital movement mortals feel 
Is Hope; the balm and life-blood of the foul. 
It pleafes, and it lafts. Indulgent heaven 
Sent down the kind delufion, through the paths 315; 
Of rugged life to lead us patient on; 
And make our happieft Hate no tedious thing. 

Ouj 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 69 

Our greateft good, and what we leaft can fpare. 
Is Hope : the laft of all our evils. Fear. 

But there are Pafllons grateful to the breaft, 320 
And yet no friends to Life : perhaps they pleafe 
Or to excefs, and diffipate the foul ; 
Or while they pleafe, torment. The ftubborn Clown, 
The ill-tam'd Ruffian, and pale Ufurer, 
(If Love's omnipotence fuch hearts can mould) 325 
May fafely mellow into love; and grow 
Refin'd, humane, and generous, if they can. 
Love in fuch bofoms never to a fault 
Or pains or pleafes. But, ye finer Souls, 
Form'd to foft luxury, and prompt to thrill 330 

With all the tumults, all the joys and pains. 
That beauty gives ; with caution and referve 
Indulge the fweet deftroyer of repofe. 
Nor court too much the Queen of charming cares. 
For, while the cherifli'd poifon in your breaft 335 
Ferments and maddens ; fick with jealoufy, 
Abfence, diftruft, or even with anxious joy. 
The wholefome appetites and powers of life 
DifTolve in languor. The coy ftomach loaths 339 
The genial boaid : Your chearful days are gone; 
The generous bloom that flulh'd your cheeks is fled. 
To fighs devoted and to tender pains, 
Penfive you fit, or folitary ftray. 
And wafte your youth in mufing. Mufing firft 
Toy'd into care your unfufpefting heart: 345 

It found a liking there, a fportful fire. 
And that fomented into ferious love j 

F 3 Which 



70 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Which mufing daily ftrengtLcns and improves 

Through all the heights of fondnefs and romance: 

And you're undone, the fatal fhaft has fped, 350 

If once you doubt whether you love or no. 

The body waftes away; th' infefted mind, 

Biflblv'd in female tendernefs, forgets 

Each manly virtue, and grows dead to fame. 

Sweet heaven from fuch intoxicating charms 35JJ 

Defend all worthy breafts ! Not that I deem 

Love always dangerous, always to be fhun'd. 

Love well repaid, and not too weakly funk 

In wanton and unmanly tendernefs. 

Adds bloom to Health ; o'er ev'ry virtue fheds 360 

A gay, humane, a fweet, and generous grace. 

And brightens all the ornaments of man. 

But fruitlefs, hopelefs, difappointed, rack'd 

With jealoufy, fatigu'd with hope and fear. 

Too ferious, or too languifhingly fond, ^6^ 

Unnerves the body and unmans the faul. 

And fome have died for love ; and fome run mad ; 

And fome with defperate hands themfelves have flain. 

Some to extinguifh, others to prevent, 
A mad devotion to one dangerous Fair, 370 

Court all they meet; in hopes to diffipate 
The cares of Love amongft an hundred Brides. 
Th' event is doubtful : for there are who find 
A cure in this ; there are who find it not. 
'Tis no relief, alas! it rather galls 375 

The wound, to thofe who are fincerely fick. 
For while from feverifh and tumultuous joys 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 71 

The nerves grow languid and the foul fubfides. 

The tender fancy fmarts with every fting. 

And what was Love before is Madnefs now. 38a 

Is health your care, or luxury your aim. 

Be temperate (till: When Nature bids, obey^ 

Her wild impatient fallies bear no curb: 

But when the prurient habit of delight. 

Or loofe Imagination, fpurs you on 38^ 

To deeds above your ftrength, impute it not 

To Nature : Nature all compulfion hates. 

Ah! let nor luxury nor vain renown 

Urge you to feats you well might fleep without j 

To make what Ihould be rapture a fatigue, 390 

A tedious talk ; nor in the wanton arms 

Of twining Lai's melt your manhood down. 

For from the colliquation of foftjoys 

How chang'd you rife! the ghoft of what you was! 

Languid, and melancholy, and gaunt, and wan; 395 

Your veins exhaufted, and your nerves unftrung. 

Spoil'd of its balm and fprightly zeft, the blood 

Grows vapid phlegm; along the tender nerves 

I To each flight impulfe tremblingly awake) 

A fubtle Fiend that mimics all the plagues 400 

Rapid and reftlefs fprings from part to part. 

The blooming honours of your youth are fallen; 

Your vigour pines; your vital powers decay ; 

Difeafes haunt you ; and untimely Age 

Creeps on ; unfocial, impotent, and lewd. 40^ 

Infatuate, impious, epicure! to wafte 

The ftores of pleafvire, chearfulnefs, and health! 

F 4 Infatuate 



7* ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Infatuate all who make delight their trade. 
And coy perdition every hour purfue. 

Who pines with Love, or in lafcivious flames 410 
Confumes, is with his own confent undone : 
He choofes to be wretched, to be mad ; 
And warn'd proceeds and wilful to his fate. 
But there's a Paffion, whofe tempeftuous fway 
Tears up each virtue planted in the bread, 415 

And fliakes to ruins proud Philofophy. 
For pale and trembling Anger rufhes in, 
With faultVing fpeech, and eyes that wildly ftare; 
Fierce as the Tiger, madder than the feas, 
Defperate, and arm'd with more than human ftrength. 
How foon the calm, humane, and polifh'd man 421 
Forgets compunction, and ftarts up a fiend! 
Who pines in Love, or waftes with filent Cares, 
Envy, or ignominy, or tender grief. 
Slowly defcends, and ling'ring, to the (hades. 425 
But he whom Anger flings, drops, if he dies. 
At once, and rulhes apopleftic down ; 
Or a fierce fever hurries liim to hell. 
For, as the Body through unnumber'd ftrings 
Reverberates each vibration of the Soulj 430 

As is the Pafllon, fuch is ftill the Pain 
The Body feels : or chronic, or acute. 
And oft a fudden ftorm at once overpowers 
The Life, or gives your Reafon to the winds. 
Such fates attend the rafh alarm of Fear, 43^ 

And fudden Grief, and Rage, and fudden Joy. 

There 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 73 

There are, mean time, to whom the boift'rous fit 
Is Heahh, and only fills the fails of life. 
For where the mmd a torpid winter leads. 
Wrapt in a body corpulent and cold, 44.0 

And each clogg'd funftion lazily moves on ; 
A generous fally fpurns th' incumbent load. 
Unlocks the breaft, and gives a cordial glow. 
But if your wrathful blood is apt to boil. 
Or are your nerves too irritably ftrung, 44^ 

Wave all difpute; be cautious, if you joke; 
Keep Lent for ever; and forfwear the Bowl. 
For one rafh moment fends you to the (hades. 
Or fhatters ev'ry hopeful fcheme of life. 
And gives to horror all your days to come. 450 

Fate, arm'd with thunder, fire, and ev'ry plague. 
That ruins, tortures, or diftrafts mankind. 
And mals.es the happy wretched in an hour, 
O'erwhelms you not with woes fo horrible 
As your own wrath, nor gives more fudden blows. 455 

While Choler works, good Friend, you may be 
wrong ; 
Diftruft yourfelf, and fleep before you fight. 
'Tis not too late to-morrow to be brave; 
If honour bids, to-morrow kill or die. 
But calm advice againft a raging fit 460 

Avails too little ; and it braves the power 
Of all that ever taught in Profe or Song, 
To tame the Fiend that fleeps a gentle Lamb, 
And wakes a Lion. Unprovok'd and calm. 
You reafon well; fee as you ought to fee, 465 

And 



74. ARMSTRONG'S POExMS. 

And wonder at the madnefs of mankind; 

Seiz'd with the common rage, you foon forget 

The fpeculations of your wifer hours. 

Befet with Furies of all deadly fhapes. 

Fierce and infidious, violent and flow: 470 

With all that urge or lure us on to Fate : 

What refuge (hall we feek? what arms prepare? 

Where Reafon proves too weak, or void of wiles 

To cope with fubtle or impetuous powers, 

I would invoke new Paflions to your aid: 475 

With Indignation would extinguifh Fear, 

With Fear or generous Pity vanquifli Rage, 

And Love with Pride; and force to force oppofe. 

There is a Charm, a Power, that fways the breaft; 
Bids every Paffion revel or be ftill; 480 

Infpires with Rage, or all your Cares diffolves; 
Can footh Diftradion, and almoft Defpair. 
That power is Mufic : Far beyond the ftretch 
Of thofe unmeaning warblers on our ftage; 
Thofe clumfy Pieroes, thofe fat-headed Gods, 485 
Who move no paflion juftly but Contempt: 
Who, like our dancers (light indeed and ftrong!) 
Do wond'rous feats, but never heard of grace. 
The fault is ours; we bear thofe monftrous arts; 
Good Heaven! wepraife them: we, with loudeft peals. 
Applaud the fool that higheft lifts his heels; 491 

And, with infipid fhew of rapture, die 
Of ideot notes impertinently long. 
But he the Mufe's laurel juftly fhares, 
A Poet he, and touchd with Heaven's own fire; 495: 
5 Who, 



ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 75 

Who, with bold rage or folemn pomp of founds. 

Inflames, exalts, and ravifiies the foul ; 

Now tender, plaintive, fweet almoft to pain. 

In Love diffolves you; now in fprightly ilrains 

Breathes a gay rapture thro' your thrilling breaft ; 500 

Or melts the heart with airs divinely fad ; 

Or wakes to horror the tremendous ftrings. 

Such was the Bard, whofe heavenly ftrains of old 

Appeas'd the fiend of melancholy Saul. 

Such was, if old and heathen fame fay true, 505 

The man who bade the Theban domes afcend. 

And tam'd the favage nations with his fong; 

And fuch the Thracian, whofe melodious lyre, 

Tun'd to foft woe, made all the mountains weep ; 

Sooth'd even th' inexorable powers of Hell, 510 

And half redeem'd his loft Eurydice. 

Mufic exalts each Joy, allays each Grief, 

Expels Difeafes, foftens every Pain, 

Subdues the rage of Poifon, and the Plague; 

And hence the wife of ancient days ador'd 515 

One Power of Phyfic, Melody, and Song. 



OF 



C 76 ] 



O F 



BENEVOLENCE: 



EPISTLE TO EUMENES*. 1751. 

KIND to my frailties ftill, Eutnenes, hear; 
Once more I try the patience of your ear. 
NcU: oft I fmg ; the happier for the town, "j 

So ftun'd already they're quite ftupid grown l 

With monthly, daily — charming things I own. 5 J 
Happy for them, I feldom court the Nine; 
Another art, a ferious art is mine. 
Of naufeous verfes offer 'd once a week. 
You caiinot fay I did it, if you're fick. 
'Twas ne'er my pride to fhine by flafhy fits 10 

Amongfl the daily, weekly, monthly wits. 
Content if fome few friends indulge my name. 
So flightly am I flung with love of fame, 
I would not fcrawl one hundred idle lines — 
Not for the praife of all the Magazines. i^ 

* This little piece was addrefled to a worthy Gentleman, as an 
expreflion of gratitude for his kind endeavours to do the Author a 
great piece of fervice. 

Yet 



OF BENEVOLENCE. 77 

Yet once a moon, perhaps, I fleal a night; 
And, if our fire Apollo pleafes, write. 
You fniile; but all the train the Mufe that follow, 
Chriftians and dunces, ftill we quote Apollo. 
Unhappy ftill our poets will rehearfe 20 

To Goths, that ftare aftonifh'd at their verfe; 
To the rank tribes fubmit their virgin lays : 
So grofs, fo beftial, is the luft of praife ! 

I to found judges from the mob appeal. 
And write to thofe who moft my fubjeft feel. 2j 

Eumenes, thefe dry moral lines I truft 
With you, whom nought that's moral can difguft. 
With you I venture, in plain home-fpun fenfe. 
What I imagine of Benevolence. 

Of all the monfters of the human kind, 30 

What ftrikes you moft is the low felfifh mind. 
You wonder how, without one liberal joy. 
The fteady mifer can his years employ ; 
Without one friend, howe'er his fortunes thrive, 
Defpis'd and hated, how he bears to live. 35 

With honeft warmth of heart, with fome degree 
Of pity that fuch wretched things fhould be. 
You fcorn the fordid knave — He grins at you. 
And deems himfelf the wifer of the two. — 
'Tis all but tafte, howe'er we fift the cafe ; 40 

He has his joy, as every creature has. 
'Tis true, he cannot boaft an angel's fliare. 
Yet has what happinefs his organs bear. 
Thou likew/e mad'ft the high feraphic foul. 
Maker Omnipotent I and thou the owl, 4j 

Heav'n 



7« ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Heav'n form'd him too, and doubtlefs for fome ufe: 
But Crane-court knows not yet all nature's views. 

'Tis chiefly tafte, or blunt, or grofs, or fine. 
Makes life infipid, beftial, or divine. 
Better be born with tafte to little rent, 50 

Than the dull monarch of a continent. 
Without this bounty which the Gods beftow. 
Can fortune make one favourite happy? — No, 
As well might fortune in her frolic vein. 
Proclaim an Oyfter fovereign of the main. 55 

Without fine nerves, and bofom juftly warm'd. 
An eye, an ear, a fancy to be charm'd. 
In vain majeftic Wren expands the dome j 
Blank as pale ftucco Rubens lines the room : 
Loft are the raptures of bold Handel's ftrain; 60 

Great Tully ftorms, fweet Virgil fings, in vain. 
The beauteous forms of nature are efFac'd; 
Tempe's foft charms, the raging watry wafte. 
Each greatly-wild, each fweet romantic fcene 
Unheeded rifes, and almoft unfeen. 6j 

Yet thefe are joys, with fome of better clay. 
To footh the toils of life's embarrafs'd way. 
Thefe the fine frame with charming horrors chill. 
And give the nerves delightfully to thrill. 
But of all Tafte the nobleft and the beft, 70 

The firft enjoyment of the generous breaft. 
Is to behold in man's obnoxious ftate 
Scenes of content, and happy turns of fate. 
Fair views of nature, Ihining works of art, 
Amufe the fancy : but thfe touch the heart, 7, 

Chiefly 



OF BENEVOLENCE. 79 

Chiefly for this proud epic fong delights. 

For this fome riot on th' Arabian Nights. 

Each cafe is ours : and for the human mind 

'Tis monftrous not to feel for all mankind. 

Were all mankind unhappy, who could tafte 80 

Elyfium ? or be folitarily bleft ? 

Shock'd with furrounding fhapes of human woe. 

All that or fenfe or fancy could beftow. 

You would rejeft with fick and coy difdain. 

And pant to fee one chearful face again. 8c 

But if life's better profpefts to behold 
So much delight the man of generous mould ; 
How happy they, the great, the godlike few. 
Who daily cultivate this pleafing view ! 
This is a joy poffefs'd by few indeed ! 50 

Dame fortune has fo many fools to feed. 
She cannot oft afford, with all her ftore. 
To yield her fmiles where nature fmil'd before. 
To finking worth a cordial hand to lend ; 
With better fortune to furprize a friend ; 5^ 

To chear the modeft ftranger's lonely ftatej 
Or fnatch an orphan family from fate ; 
To do, poffefs'd with virtue's nobleft fire. 
Such generous deeds as we with tears admire; 
Deeds that, above ambition's vulgar aim, lOO 

Secure an amiable, a folid fame : 
Thefe are fuch joys as heaven's firft favourites feize; 
Thefe pleafe you now, and will for ever pleafe. 

Too feldom we great moral deeds admire; 
The will, the power, th' occafion muft confpire, 10^ 

Yet 



So ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Yet few there are fo impotent and low. 

But can fome fmall good offices beftow. 

Small as they are, however cheap they come. 

They add (till fomething to the general fum : 

And him who gives the little in his power, no 

The world acquits; and heaven demands no more. 

Unhappy he ! who feels each neighbour's woe. 
Yet no relief, no comfort can beftow. 
Unhappy too, who feels each kind eflay. 
And for great favours has but words to pay; 115 

"Who, fcornful of the flatterer's fawning art. 
Dreads even to pour his gratitude of heart ; 
And with a diftant lover's filent pain 
Muft the beft movements of his foul reftrain. 
But men fagacious to explore mankind 1 20 

Trace even the coyeft paffions of the mind. 

Not only to the good we owe good-will ; 
In good and bad diftrefs demands it ftill. 
This with the generous lays diftinftion low. 
Endears a friend, and recommends a foe. i2j^ 

Not that refentment never ought to rife ; 
For even excefs of virtue ranks with vice : 
And there are villainies no bench can awe. 
That fport-widiout the limits of the law. 
No laws th' ungenerous crime would reprehend 130 
Could I forget Eumenes was my friend: 
In vain the gibbet or the pillory claim 
The wretch who blafts a helplefs virgin's hme. 
Where laws are dup'd, 'tis nor unjuft nor mean 
To feize the proper time for honeft fpleen. 135 

An 



OT BENEVOLENCE. 81 

An open candid foe I could not hate. 
Nor even infuk the bafe in humbled ftatej 
But thriving malice tamely to forgive — 
'Tis fomewhat late to be fo primitive. 

But I detain you with thefe tedious lays, 140 

Which few perhaps would read, and fewer praife. 
No matter : could I pleafe the polifh'd few 
Who tafte the ferious or the gay like you. 
The fqueamifh mob may find my verfes bare 
Of every grace — but curfe Me if I care. 145 

Befides, I little court Parnaffian fame ; 
There's yet a better than a poet's name. 
'Twould more indulge my pride to hear it faid 
That I with you the paths of honour tread. 
Than that amongft the proud poetic train 1 50 

No modern boafted a more claflic vein ; 
Or that in numbers I let loofe my fong, 
Smooth as the Tweed, and as the Severn ftrong. 



Vol. LXXI. G TASTE; 



• [ 82 3 

T A S T E: 

A N 

EPISTLE 

T O 

A YOUNG CRITIC. 175:3. 

*• Profeyre quafenilai cur quifquam liber dubitet ? — Maiim, Wf-. 
•' hercule, foius infanire, quam fobrius aut flebis aut fatrum 

*' delhadonibus ignaviter ajfentari." 

Autor anonym. Fragm. 

RANGE from Tower-hill all London to the Fleet,. 
Thence round the Temple, t' utmoft Grofvenor- 
ftreet : 
Take in your route both Gray's and Lincoln's Inn ; 
Mifs not, be Aire, my Lords and Gentlemen j 
You'll hardly raife, as I with * Petty guefs. 
Above twelve thoufand men of tafte ; unlefs 
In defperate times a Coniioljfeur may pafs. 

** A Connoiffeur! What's that?" 'Tis hard to fay: 
But you muft oft amid ft the fair and gay 
Have feen a wou'd-be rake, a fluttering fool, 10 

Who fwears he loves the fex with all his foul. 

* Sir William Petty, author of Has, FolltUd Arithmetic. 

Alas, 



'} 



TASTE. Sj 

Alas, vain youth! doft thou admire fvveet Jones? 
Thou be gallant without or blood or bones ! 
You'd fplit to hear th' infipid coxcomb cry 
Ah, charming Nanny ! 'tis too much! I die!— i<^ 
Die and be d— n'd, fays one; but let me tell ye 
I'll pay the lofs if ever rapture kill ye, 

'Tis eafy learnt the art to talk by rote : 
At Nando's 'twill but coft you half a groat; 
The Bedford fchool at three-pence is not dear. Sir; 
At White's — the ftan inftruB you for a teller. 21 

But he, whom nature never meant to fhare 
One fpark of tafte, will never catch it there :— • 
Nor no where elfe ; howe'er the booby beau 
Grows great with Pope, and Horace, and Boi- 
leau. 25 

Good native Tafte, though rude, is feldom wrong. 
Be it in mufrc, painting, or in fong. 
But this, as well as other faculties. 
Improves with age and ripens by degrees. 
I know, my dear, 'tis needlefs to deny 't, 30 

You like Voiture, you think him wondrous bright : 
But feven years hence, your relilh more matur'd. 
What now delights will hardly be endur'd. 
The boy may live to tafte Racine's fine charms. 
Whom Lee's b^d orb or Rowe's dry rapture warms : 
But he, enfranchis'd from his tutor's care, 36 

Who places Butler near Cervantes' chair ; 
Or with Erafmus can admit to vie 
Brown of Squab-hall of merry memory ; 

G 2 Will 



84 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Will die a Goth: and nod at * Woden's feaft, 4® 

Th* eternal winter long, on + Gregory's breaft. 

Long may he fwill, this patriarch of the dull. 
The drowfy Mum — But touch not Maro's fkull! 
His holy barbarous dotage fought to doom. 
Good heaven! th' immortal claffics to the tomb!— 
Thofe facred lights fhall bid new genius rife 4^ 

When all Rome's faints have rotted from the Ikies. 
Be thefe your guides, if at the ivy crown 
You aim ; each country's claffics, and your own. 
But chiefly with the ancients pafs your prime, 50 

And drink Caftalia at the fountain's brim. 
The man to genuine Burgundy bred up. 
Soon ftarts the dafh of Methuen in his cup. 

Thofe fovereign matters of the Mufes Ikill 
Are the true patterns of good writing (till. 5^ 

Their ore was rich and feven times purg'd of lead; 
Their art feem'd nature, 'twas fo finely hid. 
Though born with all the powers of writing well. 
What pains it coft they did not blufh to tell. 
Their eafe (my Lords!) ne'er loung"d for want of fire. 
Nor did their rage through affeftation tire, 61 

* Alluding to the Gothic heaven, Woden's hall; where the 
happy are for ever employed in drinking beer, mum, and other 
comfortable liquors out of the flcuUs of thofe whom they had flain 
in battle. 

+ Pope Gregory the Vlth, diftinguifhed by the name of St. 
Gregory; whofe pious zeal, in the caufe of barbarous ignorance and 
prieftly tyranny, exerted itfelf in demolilhing, to the Mtmoft of^his 
power, all the remains of heatlien genius. 

Free 



TASTE. ts 

Free from all tawdry and impofing glare 
They trufted to their native grace of air. 
Rapt'rous and wild the trembling foul they feize l 
Or fly coy beauties fteal it by degrees; 65 > 

The more you view them ftill the more they pleafe, J 

Yet there are thoufands of fcholaftic merit 
Who worm their fenfe out but ne'er tafte their fpirit. 
Witnefs each pedant under Bentley bred; 
Each commentator that e'er commented. ^o 

(You fcarce can feize a fpot of clafllc ground. 
With leagues of Dutch morafs fo floated round.) 
Witnefs — but. Sir, I hold a cautious pen, 
L,eft I fhould ijurong fome honourable men. 
They grow enthufiafts too — 'Tis true! 'tis pity ! 7^ 
Eut 'tis not every lunatic that's witty. 
Some have run Maro — and fome Milton — mad, 
Afldey once turn'd a folid barber's head; 
Hear all that's faid or printed if you can, 
Afhley has turn'd more folid heads than one. 80 

Let fuch admire each great or fpecious name ; 
For right or wrong the joy to them's the fame, 
♦• Right!" Yes a thoufand times. — Each fool has heard 
That Homer was a wonder of a bard. 
Defpife them civilly with all my heart — 85 

Eut to convince them is a defperate part. 
Why fhould you tcize one for what fecret caufc 
One doats on Horace, or on Hudibras ? 
'Tis cruel. Sir, 'tis needlefs, to endeavour 
To teach a fot of Tafte he knows no flavour, 90 

G3 To 



86 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

To difunitc I neither wifh nor hope 
A ftubborn blockhead from his fav'rite fop. 
Yes — fop I fay, were Maro's felf before 'em ; 
For Maro's felf grows dull as they pore o'er him. 

But hear their raptures o'er fome fpecious rhyme 95 
Dubb'd by the mufk'd and greafy mob fublime. 
For fpleen's dear fake hear how ,a coxcomb prates 
As clam'rous o'er his joys as fifty cats; 
*' Mufic has charms tofooth a /wvage hreaji, 
*' To /often rocks, and oaks ^' — and all the reft: lOO 
*^ rn)e heard''' — Blefs thefe long ears! — " Heav'ns 

what a ftrain ! 
*' Good God! What thunders burft in this Campaign! 
*' Hark Waller warbles! Ah! how fweetly killing ! 
•* Then that inimitable Splendid Shilling ! 
** Rowe breathes all Shakefpeare here! — That ode of 

" Prior 105 

*' Is Spencer quite! egad his very fire ! — 
** As like" — Yes faith ! as gum-flowers to the rofe. 
Or as to Claret flat Minorca's dofe; 
As like as (if I am not giofsly wrong) 
Erie Robert's Mice to aught e'er Chaucer fung. no 

Read boldly, and unprejudic'd perufe 
Each fav'rite modern, ev'n each ancient raufe. 
With all the comic fait and tragic rage 
The great ftupendous genius of our fl:age, 
Boaft of our ifland, pride of human-kind, 115 

Had faults to which the boxes are not blind. 
His frailties are to ev'r)- golGp known : * 

Yet Milton's pedantries not Ihock the town, 

I Ne'ey 



TASTE. 87 

Ne'er be the dupe of Names, however high; 

For feme outlive good parts, fome mifapply. 1 20 

Each elegant Spectator you admire; 

But muft you therefore fwear by Cato's fire? 

Mafques for the court, and oft a clumfey jeft, 

Difgrac'd the mufe that wrought the Alchemift. 

*' But to the ancients." — Faith! I am not clear, 12^ 

For all the fmooth round type of Elzevir, 

That every work which lafts in profe or fong. 

Two thoufand years, defer\'es to laft fo long. 

For not to mention fome eternal blades 

Known only now in th' academic (hades, 1 30 

(Thofe facred groves where raptur'd fpirits ftray. 

And in word-hunting wafte the live-long day) 

Ancients whom none but curious critics fcan. 

Do, read * Meffala's praifes if you can. 

Ah! who but feels the fweet contagious fmart 135 

While foft Tibullus pours his tender heart ? 

With him the Loves and Mufes melt in tears; 

But not a word of fome hexameters. 

" You, grow fo fqueamifh and fo dev'lifh dry, 

*' You'll call Lucretius vapid next." Not I. 140 

Some find him tedious, others think him lame: 

But if he lags his fubjeft is to blame. 

Rough weary roads through barren wilds he tried. 

Yet ftill he marches with true Roman pride : 

Sometimes a meteor, gorgeous, rapid, bright, 14J; 

He ftrcams athwart the philofophic night. 

* A poem of Tibullus's in hexameter verfe; as yawning and 
infipid as his elegies are tender and natural. 

G 4 Find 



a ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Find you in Horace no infipid Odes?— 

He dar'd to tell us Homer fometimes nods ; 

And but for fuch a critic's hardy Ikill 

Homer might flumber unfufpedled ftill. lj;o 

Taftelefs, implicit, indolent, and tame. 
At fecond-hand we chiefly praife or blame. 
Hence 'tis, for elfe one knows not why nor how. 
Some authors flourifb for a year or two : 
For many fome, more wond'rous ftill to tell; 155 

Farquhar yet lingers on the brink of hell. 
Of folid merit others pine unknown; "J 

At firft, though * Carlos fwimmingly went down, l 
Poor Belvidera fail'd to melt the town, J 

Sunk in dead night the giant Milton lay 160 

'Till Sommer's hand produc'd him to the day. 
But, thanks to heav'n and Addifon's good grace. 
Now ev'ry fop is charm'd with Chevy Chace. 

Specious and fage, the fovereign of the flock 
Led to the dov/ns, or from the wave-worn rock 165 
Relu(ftant hurl'd, the tame implicit train 
Or crop the downs, or headlong feek the main. 
As blindly we our folemn leaders follow. 
And good, and bad, and execrable fwallow. 

Pray, on the firft throng'd evening of a play 170 
That wears the \ fades hippocratica, 

* DoH Carlos, a tragedy of Otway's, now long and juftly forgot- 
ten, went off with great applaufe ; while his Orphan, a fomewhat 
better performance, and what is yet more ftratige, his Venice Pre- 
ferved, according to the theatrical anecdotes of thofe times, met 
with a very cold reception. 

+ The appearance of the face in the laft ftage of a confumption, 
as it is defiribed y Hippocrat?s, 

Strong 



■■] 



TASTE. S9 

Strong lines of death, figns dire of reprobation ; 
Have you not feen the angel of falvation 
Appear fublirae ; with wife and folemn rap 
To teach the doubtful rabble where to clap ? — 175 
The rabble knows not where our dramas fhine; 
But where the cane goes pat — l^y G — float's fine ! 
Judge for yourfelf; nor wait with timid phlegm 
'Till feme illuftrious pedant hum or hem. 179 

The lords who ftarv'd old Ben were learn'dly fond 
Of Chaucer, whom with bungling toil they conn'd. 
Their fons, whofe ears bold Milton could notfeize. 
Would laugh o'er Ben like mad, and fnufFand fneeze. 
And fwear, and feem as tickled as you pleafe. 
Their fpawn, the pride of this fuhlimer age, 1 85; 

Feel to the toes and horns grave Milton's rage. 
Though liv'd he now he might appeal with fcorn 
To Lords, Knights, 'Squires, and Doclors, yet unborn; 
Or juftly mad to Moloch's burning fane 
Devote the choiceft children of his brain. igo 

Judge for yourfelf; and as you find report 
Of wit as freely as of beef or port. 
Zounds! fhall a pert or bluff important wight, 
Whofe brain is fancilefs, whofe blood is white; 
A mumbling ape of tafte; prefcribe us laws 19^; 

To try the poets, for no better caufe 
Than that he boafts per arm. ten thoufand clear. 
Yelps in the Houfe, or barely fits a Peer? 
For Hiame! for Ihame! the liberal Britilh foul 
To ftoop to any ftale dilator's rule! zco 

I may 



90 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

I may be wrong, and often am no doubt. 
But right or wrong with friends with foes 'twill out. 
Thus 'tis perhaps my fault if I complain 
Of trite invention and a flimfy vein. 
Tame characters, uninterefting, jejune, 205 

And paffions drily copied from * Le Brun. 
For I would rather never judge than wrong 
That friend of all men, generous Fenelon, 
But in the name of goodnefs, muft I be 210 

The dupe of charms I never yet could fee ? 
And then to flatter where there's no reward- 
Better be any patron-hunting bard. 
Who half our Lords with filthy praife befmears. 
And fing an Anthem to all ministers: 
Tafte th' Attic fait in ev'ry Peer's poor rebus, 215 
And crown each Gothic idol for a Phoebus. 

* Firft painter to Lewis XIV. who, to fpeak in falhionable 
French Englifli, called hlmfelf \.-£.\ii% the Great. Our fove- 
reign lords the paflions, Love, Rage, Defpair, &c. were gracioufly 
pleafed to fit to him in their turns for their portraits : which he was 
generous enough to communicate to the public ; to the great im- 
provement, no doubt, of hiftory-painting. It was he who they fay 
poifoned Le Sueur; who, without half his advantages in many 
other refpe(fts, was fo unreafonable and provoking as to difplay a 
genius with which his own could ftand no comparifon. It was he 
and his Gothic difciples, who, with fly fcratches, defaced the moll 
niafterly of this Le Sueur's performances, as often as their barba- 
rous envy could fnugly reach them. Yet after all thefe atchieve- 
pients he died in his bed ! A cataftrophe which could not have 
happened to him in a country like this, where the fne arts are as 
#ealou(ly and judicioufl^ patronifed as they are well underftood. 

Alas! 



TASTE. 51 

Alas ! fo far from free, fo far from brave. 
We dare not fhew the little Tafte we have. 
With us you'll fee ev'n vanity controul 
The mod refin'd fenfations of the foul. 220 

Sad Otway's fcenes, great Shakefpear's we defy : 
" Lard, Madam ! 'tis fo unpolite to cry ! — 
*' For Ihame, my dear ! d'ye credit all this ftuiF?— 
♦♦ I vow — well, this is innocent enough ?" 
At Athens long ago, the Ladies — (married) 225 

Dreamt not they mifbehav'd though they mifcarried. 
When a wild poet with licentious rage 
Turn"d fifty furies loofe upon the flage. 

They were fo tender and fo eafy mov'd, 
Heav'ns! how the Grecian ladies muft have lov'd! 
For all the fine fenfations ftill have dwelt, 23 1 

Perhaps, where one was exquifitely felt. 
Thus he who heavenly Maro truly feels 
Stands fix'd on Raphael, and at Handel thrills. 
The groffer fenfes too, the tafte, thefmell, 2551 

Are likely trueft where the fine prevail : I 

Who doubts that Horace muft have cater'd well? J 
Friend, I'm a ftirewd obferver, and will guefs 
What books you doat on from your fav'rite mefs. 
Brown and L'Eftrange will furely charm whome'er 
The frothy pertnefs ftrikes of weak fmall-beer. 
Who fteeps the calf's fat loin in greafy fauce 
Will hardly loathe the praife that baftes an afs. 
Who riots on Scotcht Collops fcorns not any 
Infipid, fulfome, trafhy mifcellanyj 245 

And 



9t ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

And who devours whate'er the cook can difh up,' 
Will for a claffic confecrate each * bifliop. 
But I am fick of pen and ink ; and you 
Will find this letter long enough. Adieu ! 

* See Felton's Claflics, 



IMITATIONS 






[ 93 ] 



IMITATION 

O F 

SHAKESPEARE AND SPENSER. 



Ad'vertifement from the Fublijher. 

^p H E following Imitation of Shakefpeare was one 
^ of our Author's firft attempts in poetry, made 
when he was very young. It helped to amufe the fo- 
litude of a winter pafled in a wild romantic country ; 
and, what is rather particular, was juft finifhed when 
Mr. Thomfon's celebrated poem upon the fame fubjeft 
appeared. Mr. Thomfon, foon hearing of it, had the 
curiofity to procure a copy by the means of a common 
acquaintance. He fhevted-4t to his poetical friends, 
Mr. Mallet, Mr. Aaron Hill, and Dr. Young, who, 
it feems, did great honour to it; and the firft- men. 
tioned gentleman wrote to one of his friends at Edin- 
burgh, defiring the author's leave to publifli it ; a re- 
queft too flatttering to youthful vanity to be refifted. 
But Mr. Mallet altered his mind ; and this little piece 
has hitherto remained unpubliflied. 

The other Imitations of Shakefpeare happen to have 
been faved out of the ruins of an unfiniftied tragedy on 
the {lory of Kerens and Philomela; attempted upon an 

irregular 



94- ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

irregular and extravagant plan, at an age much too 
early for fuch atchievements. However, they are here 
exhibited for the fake of fuch guefts as may like a little 
repaft of fc raps. 

■^TOW Summer with her wanton court is gone 
^^ To revel on the fouth fide of the world. 
And flaunt and frolic out the live -long day. 
While Winter rifing pale from northern feas 
Shakes from his hoary locks the drizzling rheum. ^ 
A blaft fo fhrewd makes the tall-bodied pines 
Unfinew'd bend, and heavy-paced bears 
Sends growling to their favage tenements. 

Now blows thefurly north, and chills throughout 
The ftiffening regions ; while, by ftronger charms 
Than Circe e'er or fell Medea brew'd, lo 

Each brook that wont to prattle to its banks 
Lies all beftlU'd and wedg'd betwixt its banks. 
Nor moves the wither'd reeds : and the rafli flood 
That from the mountains held its headftrong courfe. 
Buried in livid fheets of vaulting ice, 1 6 

Seen through the Ihameful breaches, idly creeps 
To pay a fcanty tribute to the ocean. 
What wonder ? when the floating wildernefs 
That fcorns our miles, and calls Geography 20 

A Ihallow pryer; from whofe unfteady mirrour 
The high-hung pole furveys his dancing locks; 
When this ftill-raving deep lies mute and dead. 
Nor heaves its fwelling bofom to the winds. 
The furges, baited by the fierce north-eaft 2j 

Tofling 



IMITATIONS. 9j 

Tofling with fretful fpleen their angry heads 

To roar and rufli together. 

Even in the foam of all their madnefs ftruck 

To monumental ice, (land all aftride 

The rocks they wafhed fo late. Such execution, 30 

So ftern, fo fudden, wrought the grifly afpeft 

Of terrible Medufa, ere young Perfeus 

With his keen fabre cropt her horrid head. 

And laid her ferpents rowling on the duft ; 

When wandering thro' the woods fhe frown'd to ftone 

Their favage tenants : juft as the foaming lion ^6 

Sprung furious on his prey, her fpeedier power 

Outrun his hafte ; no time to langulfh in. 

But fix'd in that fierce attitude he ftands 

Like Rage in marble. — Now portly Argofies 40 

Lie wedg'd 'twixt Neptune's ribs. The bridg'd abyfm 

Has chang'd our fhips to horfes ; the fwift bark 

Yields to the heavy waggon and the cart. 

That now from ifle to ifle maintain the trade; 

And where the furface-haunting Dolphin led 4^ 

Her fportive young, is now an area fit 

For the wild fchool-boy's paftime. 

Meantime the evening (kies, crufted with ice. 
Shifting from red to black their weighty fkirts. 
Hang mournful o'er the hills J and ftealing night 50 
Rides the bleak puffing winds, that feem to fpit 
Their foam fparfe thro' the welkin, which is nothing 
If not beheld. Anon the burden 'd heaven 
Shakes from its ample fieve the boulted fnow; 
That fluttering down befprinkles the fad trees 55 

In 



9S ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

In mockery of leaves; piles up the hills 

To monftrous altitude, and choaks to the lips 

The deep impervious vales that yawn as low 

As to the centre. Nature's vafty breaches. 

While all the pride of men and mortal things 60 

Lies whelm'd in heaven's white ruins. — 

The fhivering clown digs his obftruded way 
Through the fnow-barricadoed cottage door ; 
And muffled in his home-fpun plaid encounters 
With livid cheeks and rheum-diftilling nofe 65 

The morning's fharp and fcourging breath; to count 
His ftarving flock whofe number's all too flxort 
To make the goodly fum of yefter-night : 
Part deep ingurgitated, part yet ftruggling 
With their laft pantings melt themfelves a grave 70 
In Winter's bofom ; which yields not to the touch 
Of the pale languid crefcet of this world. 
That now with lean and churlifh hufbandry 
Yields heartlefly the remnants of his prime ; 
And like moft fpendthrifts ftarves his latter days 75 
For former ranknefs. He with bleary eye 
Blazons his own difgrace; the harnefs'd wafte 
Rebellious to his blunt defeated fhafts; 
And idly ftrikes the chalky mountains tops 
That rife to kifs the Welkin's ruddy lips; So 

Where all the ra(h young bullies of the air 
Mount their quick llender penetrating wings. 
Whipping the froft-burnt villagers to the bones ; 
And growing with their motion mad and furious, 
'Till fwoln to tempefts they out-rage the thunder; 85 

Winnow 



IMITATIONS. 97 

Winnow the chafFy {now, and mock the Ikies 
Even with their own artillery retorted; 
Tear up and throw th' accumulated hills 
Into the vallies. And as rude hurricanes, 
Difcharg'd from the wind-fwoln cheeks of heaven, 90 
Buoy up the fwilling fkirts of Araby's 
Inhofpi table wilds. 

And roll the dufty defart through the Ikies, 
Choaking the liberal air, and fmothering 
Whole caravans at once; fuch havock fpreads 9^ 

This war of heaven and earth, fuch fudden ruin 
Vifits their houfelefs citizens, that fhrink 
In the falfe fhelter of the hills together. 
And hear the tempeft howling o'er their heads 
That by and by o'erwhelms them. The very birds, 
Thofe few that troop'd not with the chiming tribe 
Of amorous Summer quit their ruffian element j 
And with domeftic tamenefs hop and flutter 
Within the roofs of perfecuting man, 
(Grown hofpitable by like fenfe of fufFerance;) 105 
Whither the hinds, the debt o' the day difcharg'd. 
From kiln or barn repairing, fhut the door 
On furly Winter; crowd the clean-fwept hearth 
And chearful fhining fire ; and doff the time. 
The whilft the maids their twirling fpindles ply, i iQ 
With mufty legends and ear-pathing tales j 
Of giants, and black necromantic bards. 
Of air-built caftles, feats of madcap knights. 
And every hollow fiftion of romance. 
And, as their rambling humour leads them, talk 115 
Vol, LXXI. H Of 



$3 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Of prodigies, and things of dreadful utterance j 
That fet them all agape, roufe up their hair. 
And make the ideot drops ftart from theit eyes ; 
Of church-yards belching flames at dead of night. 
Of walking ftatues, ghofts unaffable, 120 

Haunting the dark wafte tower or airlefs dungeon ; 
Then of the elves that deftly trip the green. 
Drinking the fummer's moonlight from the flowers; 
And all the toys that phantafy pranks up 
T' amufe her fools withal. — Thus they lafh on 125 
The fnail-pac'd Hyperborean nights, till heaven 
Hangs with a jufter poize: when the murk clouds 
RoU'd up in heavy wreathes low-bellying, feem 
To kifs the ground, and all the wafte of fnow 
Looks blue beneath 'em ; till plump'd with bloating 
. dropfy, 130 

Beyond the bounds and ftretch of continence. 
They burft at once; down pours the hoarded rain, 
Wafhing the flipper)^ winter from the hills. 
And floating all the vallies. The fading fcene 
Melts like a loft enchantment or vain phantafm i^^ 
That can no more abufe. Nature refumes 
Her old fubftantial fhape ; while from the wafte 
Of undiftinguiftiing calamity, 
Foreft, and by their fides wide-flcirted plains, 
Houfes and trees arife; and waters flow, 140 

That from their dark confinements burfting, fpurn 
Their brittle chains ; huge fheets of loofen'd 'ic& 
Float on their bofoms to the deep, and jarr 
And clatter as they pafs ; th' o'erjutting banks, 

.As 



IMITATIONS. 99 

As long unpra£lis'd to fo deep a view, 143; 

Seem to look dizzy on the moving pomp. 

Now ev'ry petty brook that crawl'd along. 
Railing its pebbles, mocks the river's rage. 
Like the proud frog i' the fable. The huge Danube, 
While melting mountains rufh into its tide, 1^0 

Rolls with fuch headftrong and unreined courfe. 
As it would choak the Euxines gulphy maw, 
Burfting his cryftal cerements. The breathing time 
Of peace expir'd, that hufli'd the deafning fcenes 
Of clamorous indignation, ruffian War ij^ 

Rebels, and Nature ftands at odds again : 
When the rous'd Furies of the fighting winds 
Torment the main ; that fvvells its angry fides. 
And churns the foam betwixt its flinty jaws ; 
While through the favage dungeon of the night 1 60 
The horrid thunder growls. Th' ambitious waves 
Affault the ikies, and from the burfting clouds 
Drink the glib lightening ; as if the feas 
Would quench the ever-burning fires of heaven. 
Straight from their flipp'ry pomp they madly plunge 
And kifs the loweft pebbles. Wretched they 166 

That 'midft fuch rude vexation of the deep 
Guide a frail veffel ! Better ice-bound ftiU, 
Than mock'd with liberty thus be refign'd 
To the rough fortune of the froward time ; 170 

When Navigation all a-tiptoe ftands 
On fuch unftcady footing. Now they mount 
On the tall billow's top, and feem to jowl 
Againft the ftarsj whence (dreadful eminence!) 

H 2 They 



jco ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

They fee with fwimming eyes (enough to hurry round 

In endlefs vertigo the dizzy brain) 176 

A gulph that fwallows vifion, with wide mouth 

Steep-yawning to receive them ; down they duck 

To the rugged bottom of the main, and view 

The adamantine gates of vaulted hell : j 80 

Thence tofs'd to light again ; till borne adrift 

Againfi: fome icy mountains bulging fides 

They reel, and are no more. — Nor lefs by land 

Ravage the winds, that in their wayward rage 

Howl through the wide unhofpitable glens; 18^ 

That rock the ftable-planted towers, and ftiake 

The hoary monuments of ancient time 

Down to their flinty bafes ; that engage 

As they would tear the mountains from their roots. 

And brufli the high heavens with their woody heads; 

Making the ftout oaks bow. — But I forget 191 

That fprightly Ver trips on old Winter's heel : 

Ceafe we thefe notes too tragic for the time. 

Nor jar agamft great Nature's fymphony; 

When even the bluftrous elements grow tuneful, 19^ 

Or lir^en to the concert. Hark! how loud 

The cuclico wa'ier, the folitary wood! 

Sof: figh tiie v/incs as o'er the greens they ftray. 

And ir.unr.uring brooks within their channels play. 



PROGNE'S 



IMITATIONS. 



PROGNE'S DREAM: 

Darklj exprcjjive of Jome pafi Events that itiere foon tt 
be repealed to her, 

— — — LAST night I dreamt, 
Whate'er it may forebode it moves me ftrangely. 
That I was rapt into the raving deep ; 
An old and reverend fire conducted me : 
He plung'd into the bofom of the main, c 

And bade me not to fear but follow him. 
i followed ; v/ith impetuous fpeed we div'd. 
And heard the dafhing thunder o'er our heads. 
Many a flippery fathom down we funk. 
Beneath all plummets' found, and reach'd the bottom. 
When there, I aik'd my venerable guide 1 1 

If he could tell me where my fifter was ; 
He told me that flie lay not far from thence 
Within the bofom of a flinty rock. 
Where Neptune kept her for his paramour i ^ 

Hid from the jealous Amphitrite's fight; 
And faid he could conduft me to the place. 
I beg'd he would. Through dreadful ways we pad, 
'Twixt rocks that frightfully lower'd on either fide. 
Whence here and there the branching coral fprung; 20 
O'er dead men's bones we walkd, o'er heaps of gold 

and gems. 
Into a hideous kind of wildernefs. 
Where ftood a flern and prifon-looking rock, 

H 3 Daub'd 



loi ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Daub'd with a mofly verdure all around. 

The mockery of paint. As we drew near 2^ 

Out fprung a hydra from a den below, 

A fpeckld fury; fearfully it hifs'd. 

And roll'd its fea-green eyes fo angrily 

As it would kill with looking. My old guide 

Againft its fharp head hurl'd a rugged ftone— 30 

The curling monfter rais'd a brazen fhriek. 

Wallow 'd and died in fitful agonies. 

We gain'd the cave. Through woven adamant 

I look'd, and faw my fifter all alone. 

Employ'd flie feem'd in writing fomething fad, 3 j; 

So fad fhe look'd : Her cheek was wond'rous wan. 

Her mournful locks like weary fedges hung. 

I call'd — fhe turning, ftarted when fhe faw me. 

And threw her head afide as if afham'd ; 

She wept, but would not fpeak — I call'd again; 40 

Still fhe was mute. — Then madly I addrefi:. 

With all the lion-finews of defpair. 

To break the flinty ribs that held me outj 

And with the ItruggUng wak'd,— 



A STORM, 



IMITATIONS. foj 

A STORM; 

Raifcd to account for the late Return of a Meffenger. 



— — — THE fun went down in wrath; 
The Ikies foam'd brafs, and foon th' unchained winds 
Burft from the howling dungeon of the north: 
And rais'd fuch high delirium on the main. 
Such angry clamour j while fuch boiling waves 5 

Flafh'd on the peevifh eye of'moqd^ night. 
It look'd as if the feas would fcald the heavens. 
Still louder chid the winds, th' enchafed furge 
Still anfwer'd louder ; and when the fickly morn 
Peep'd ruefully through the blotted thick-brovv'd eaft 
To view the ruinous havock of the dark, 1 1 

The ftately towers of Athens feem'd to ftand 
On hollow foam tide-whiptj the Ihips that lay 
"Scorning the blaft within the marble arms 
Of the fea-chid Portumnus, danc'd like corks 15 

Upon th' enraged deep, kicking each other ; 
And fome were dafh'd to fragments in this fray 
Againft the harbour's rocky cheft. The fea 
So roar'd, fo madly rag'd, fo proudly fwell'd. 
As it would thunder full into the ftreets, 20 

And fteep the tall Cecropian battlements 
In foaming brine. The airy citadel, 
Perch'd like an eagle on a high-brow'd rock, 

H 4. Shook 



104 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Shook the fait water from its ftubborn fides 

With eager quaking; the Cyclades appear'd 2j; 

Like ducking Cormorants — Such a mutiny 

Out-clamour'd all tradition, and gain'd belief 

To ranting prodigies of heretofore. 

Seven days it florm'd, &c. 



AN 



[ los 3 

A N 

I M 1 1^ A T I O N 

O F 

SPENSER. 

Written at Mr. Thomson's dejire, to be inferted intt 
The Castle of Indolence. 

I. 

TT^ULL many a fiend did haunt this houfe of reft^ 
"*• And made of paffive wights an eafy prey. 
Here Lethargy with deadly fleep oppreft 

Stretch'd on his back a mighty kibbard lay. 
Heaving his fides; and fnored night and day. 

To ftir him from his traunce it was not eath. 
And his half-open'd eyne he fhut firaightway : 

He led I ween the fofteft way to death. 
And taught withouten pain or ftrife to yield the breath, 

II. 

Of lim^s enormous, but withal unfound, 

Soft-fwoln and pale, here lay the Hydropfiej 

Unwieldy man, with belly monftrous round 
For ever fed with watery fupply; 

For ftill he drank, and yet he ftill was dry. 

And 



io6 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

And here a moping Myftery did fit. 
Mother of Spleen, in robes of various dye : . 
She call'd herfelf the Hypochondriack Fit, 
And frantick feem'd to fome, to others feem'd a wit. 

III. 
A lady was fhe whimfical and proud. 

Yet oft thro' fear her pride would crouchen low. 
She felt or fancied in her fluttering mood 
All the difeafes that the Spitals know. 
And fought all phyfick that the {hops beftow; • 

And ftill new leaches and new drugs would try. 
'Twas hard to hit her humour high or low. 

For fometimes fhe would laugh and fometimes cry. 
Sometimes would waxen wroth; and all fhe knew not 
why. 

IV. 

Faft by her fide a liftlefs virgin pin'd. 

With aching head and fqueamifli heart-burnings ; 
Pale, bloated, cold, fhe feem'd to hate mankind. 

But lov'd in fecret all forbidden things. 
And here the Tertian fhook his chilling wings; 

And here the Gout, half tyger half a fnake, 
Rag'd with an hundred teeth, an hundred flings; 

Thefe and a thoufand furies more did fliake 
Thofe weary realms, and kept eafe-loving men awake. 



A DAY: 



[ 107 J 

A DAY: 

An Epiftle to John Wilkes, of Aylejhury, E/q. 

T7SCAP'D from London now four moons, and 
•*--^ more, 

I greet gay Wilkes from Fulda's wafted fhore. 
Where cloth'd with woods a hundred hills afcend. 
Where nature many a paradife has plan'd: 

A laaid that, e'en amid contending arms, ^ 

Late fmird with culture, and luxuriant charms; 
But now the hoftile fcythe has bar'd her foil. 
And her fad peafants ftarve for all their toil. 

What news to-day ? — I afk you not what rogue. 
What paltry imp of fortune's now in vogue ; lo 

What forward blundering fool was laft preferr'd. 
By mere pretence diftinguifh'd from the herd ; 
With what new cheat the gaping town is fmit ; 
What crazy fcribbler reigns the prefent wit ; 
What fluff for winter the two booths have mixt; i^ 
What bouncing mimick grows a Rofcius next. 
Wave all fuch news : I've feen too much, my friend. 
To ftare at any wonders of that kind. 

News, none have I : you know I never had j 
I never long'd the day's dull lye to fpread j 20 

I left to goflips that fweet luxury. 
More in the fecrets of the great than I, 
To nurfes, midwives, all the llippery train. 
That fwallow all, and bring up all again ; 

Or 



} 

too — 1 

:r flew ?— I 
i! J 



ic8 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Or did I e'er a brief event relate. 

You found it foon at length in the Gazette. 

Now for the weather — This is England ftill 
For aught I find, as good, and quite as ill. 
Even now the pond'rous rain perpetual falls. 
Drowns every camp, and crowds our hofpitals. 
This foaking deluge all unftrings my frame. 
Dilutes my fenfe, and fufFocates my flame — 
'Tis that which makes thefe prefent lines fo tame. 
The parching eaft wind ftill purfues me too — 
Is there no climate where this fiend ne'er flew ?- 
By heaven, it flays Japan, perhaps Peru! 
It blafts all earth with its envenom'd breath. 
That fcatters difcord, rage, difeafes, death. 
'Twas the firft plague that burft Pandora's cheft. 
And with a livid fmile fow'd all around the reft. 40 

Heaven guard my friend from every plague that flies. 
Still grant him health, whence all the pleafures rife. 
But oft difeafes from flow caufes creep. 
And in this doftrine as (thank Heaven) I'm deep. 



Mean time excufe me that I flily fnatch 45 

The only theme in which I fhine your match. 

You ftudy early: fome indulge at night. 
Their prudifli mufe fteals in by candle-light. 
Shy as th' Athenian Bird, fhe fliuns the day. 
And finds December genial more than May, 50 

4 But 



DAY. 109 

But happier you who court the early fun. 
For morning vifits no debauch draw on ; 
Nor fo the fpirits, health, or fight impair. 
As thofe that pafs in the raw midnight air. 

The talk of breakfaft o'er; that peevifh, pale, 55 
That lounging, yawning, moft un genial meal ; 
Rufli out, before thofe fools rufh in to worry ye, 
Whofe bufmefs is to be idle in a hurry. 
Who kill your time as frankly as their own. 
And feel no civil hints e'er to be gone. 60 

Thefe fiies all fairly flung, whene'er the houfe. 
Your country's bufmefs, or your friend's, allows, 
Rufli out, enjoy the fields and the frefn air ; 
Ride, walk, or drive, the weather foul or fair. 
Yet in the torrid months I would reverfe 65' 

This method, leave behind both profe and verfe; 
With the grey dawn the hills and foreft roam. 
And wait the fultry noon embower'd at home. 
While every rural found improves the breeze. 
The railing ftream, the bufy rooks, and murmur of the 
bees. 70 

You'll hardly choofe thefe chearful jaunts alone — 
Except when forae deep fcheme is carrying on. 
With you at Chelfea oft may I behold 
The hopeful bud of fenfe her bloom unfold. 
With you I'd v/alk to ***** * 
To rich, infipid Hackney, if you will ; 
With you no matter where, while we're together, 
I fcorn no fpot on earth, and curfe no weather : 

When 



no. ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

When dinner comes, amid the various feaft. 
That crowns your genial board, where every gueft, 80 
Or grave, or gay, is happy, and at home. 
And none e'er figh'd for the mind's elbow-room ; 
I warn you ftill to make your chief repaft 
On one plain difh, and trifle with the reft. 



Beef, in a fever, if your ftomach crave it, 85 

Ox-cheek, or mawkifh cod, be fure you have it. 

For ftill the conftitution, even the cafe, 

Direfts the ftomach; this informs the tafte; 

And what the tafte in her capricious fits 

Coyly, or even indifferently admits, 90 

The peevifti ftomach, or difdains to toil. 

Or indolently works to vapid chyle. 

This inftindl of the tafte fo feldom errs. 

That if you love, yet fmart for cucumbers. 

Or plumbs of bad repute, you'll likely find "t 

'Twas for you feparated what nature join'd, y 

The fpicey kernel here, and there the rind. J 



*TIs ftrange how blindly we from Nature ftray ! 
The only creatures we that mifs their way! 
To err is human, Man's prerogative. 
Who's too much fenfe by Nature's laws to live : 
Wifer than Nature he muft thwart her plan. 
And ever will be fpoiling, where he can, 

'Tis 



DAY. II, 

'Tis well he cannot ocean change to cream. 

Nor earth to a gilded cake; not e'en could tame 105 

Niagaras fteep abyfs to crawl down flairs *, 

Or drefs in rofes the dire Cordelliers\ : 

But what he can he does ; well can he trim 

A charming fpot into a childifh whim ; 

Can every generous gift of Nature fpoil, 1 10 

And rates their merits by his coft and toil. 

Whate'er the land, whate'er the fea's produce. 

Of perfeft texture, and exalted juice. 

He pampers, or to fulfome fat, or drains. 

Refines and bleaches, till no tafle remains. 11 j 



Enough to fatten fools, or drive the dray. 
But plagues and death to thofe of finer clay. 

No corner elfe, "tis not to be denied. 
Of all our ifle fo rankly is fupplied 
With grofs produftions, and adulterate fare, 1 20 

As one renown'd abode, whofe name I fpare. 
They cram all poultry, that the hungry fox 
Would loath to touch them; e'en their boafted ox 
Sometimes is glutted fo with unduous fpoil. 
That what feems beef is rather rape-feed oil. 125 

D'ye know what brawn is? — O th' unhappy beaft! 
He {lands eternal, and is doom'd to feaft, 

* Vide Chatfworth, 1753. 

A Les Cordalleira's des Andee are a chain of hilis, which run 
through South-America. 

Till 



Hi ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Till— but the nauceous procefs I forbear — • 

Only, beware of brawn — befure, beware ! 

Yet brawn has tafte— it has: their veal has none, 130 

Save what the butcher's breath infpires alone ; 

Juft heaven one day may fend them hail for v.heat. 

Who fpoil all veal becaufe it fhould be white. 

'Tis hard to fay of what compounded pafte 

Their bread is wrought, for it betrays no tafte, 13^ 

Whether 'tis flour and chalk, or chalk and flour 

Shell'd and refin'd, till it has tafte no more ; 

But if the lump be white, and white enough. 

No matter how infipid, dry, or tough. 

In fait itfelf the fapid favour fails, 140 

Burnt alum for the love of white prevails: 

While taftelefs cole-feed we for muftard fwallow, 

'Tis void of zeft indeed — but ftill 'tis yellow. 

Parfnip, or parfley root, the rogues will foon 

Scrape for horfe-radifh, and 'twill pafs unknown, 145 

For by the colour, not the tafte, we prove all. 

As hens will fit on chalk, if 'tis but oval. 

I muft with caution the cook's reign invade. 
Hot as the fire, and hafty from his trade, . 



A cook of genius, bid him roaft a hare, 150 

By a]] that's hot and horjible would fwear. 

Parch 



DAY* nj 

Parch native drynefs! zounds, that's not the thing— 

But ftew him, and he might half dine a king. 

His gen'rous broth I fhould almoft prefer 

To Turtle Soup, though Turtle travels far, i^^ 

You think me nice perhaps : yet I could dine 
On roafted rabbit; or fat turky and chine j 
Or fulfome haflet ; or moft drily cram 
My throat with taftelefs fillet and wet ham : 
But let me ne'er of mutton-faddle eat, 1 6$ 

That folid phantom, that moft fpecious cheat; 
Yet loin is paflable, he was no fool 
Who faid the half is better than the whole : 



But I have cook'd and carv'd enough and more. 
We come to drinking next. 'TUl dinner's o'er, i6^ 
I would all claret, even Champaign forbear. 
Give me frefh water — ^blefs me with fmall-beer. 
But ftill whate'er you drink with cautious lip 
Approach, furvey, and e'er you Avallow, fip ; 
For often, O defend all honeft throats! 
The reeling wafp on the drench'd borage floats 
I've known a dame, fage elfe as a divine. 
For brandy whip oS Ipecacuan wine; 
And I'm as fure amid your carelefs glee. 
You'll fwallow Pert one time for Cote-mie, f]^ 

Vol. LXXI, I But 



70 



1. J 



ji* ARMSTRONG'S POEMS, 

But you aware of that Lethean flood. 

Will fcarce repeat the dofe— forbid you fhould! 

'Tis fuch a deadly foe to all that's bright, 

'Twould foon encumber e'en your fancy's flight : 

And if 'tis true what fome wife preacher fays, 1 8o 

That we our gen'rous anceftors difgrace. 

The fault from this pernicious fountain flows. 

Hence half our follies, half our crimes and woes; 

And ere our maudlin genius mounts again, 

'Twill caufe a fea of claret andchampain l( 

Of this retarding glue to rinfe the nation's brain. 

The mud-fed carp refines amid the fprings. 

And time and Burgundy might do great things ; 

But health and pleafure we for trade defpife. 

For Portugal's grudg'd gold our genius dies. 190 

O haplefs race! O land to be bewail'd! 

With murders, treafons, horrid deaths appal'd; 

Where dark-red fkles with livid thunders frown. 

While earth convulfive fliakes her cities down ; 

Where Hell in Heaven's name holds her impious court. 

And the grape bleeds out that black poifon, port^ 196 

Sad poifon to themfelves, to us ftill worfe, 

Brew'd and rebrew"d, a doubled, trebled curfe. 

Tofs'd in the crowd of various rules I find. 
Still fome material bufinefs left behind : *200 



The fig, the goofeberr}^, beyond all grapes. 
Mellower to eat, as rich to drink perhaps. 
But pleafures of this kind are beft enjoy'd. 
Beneath the tree, or by the fountain fide. 

Ere 



D A V. tis 

Ere the quick foul, and dewy bloom exhale, 205 

And vainly melt into the thanklcfs gale. 



Who from the full meal yield to natural reft, 

A fhort repofej 'tis ftrange how foon you'll find 

A fecond morn rife chearful on your mind : 

Befides it foftly, kindly, fooths away 210 

The faddeft hour to fome that damps the day. 

But if you're coy to fleep, before you fpread 

Some eafy-trotting poet's lines — you're dead 

At once : even thefe may haften your repofe. 

Now rapid verfe, now halting nearer profe: lij 

There fmooth, here rough, what I fuppofe you'd chufe. 

As men of tafte hate famenefs in the mufe : 

Yes, I'd adjourn all drinking till 'tis late. 

And then indulge, but at a moderate rate. 

By heaven not * * * with all his genial wit, 22Q' 

Should ever tempt me after twelve to fit—* 

You laugh — at noon you fay ; I mean at night. 

I long to read your name once more again. 
But while at Caje/, all fuch longing's vain. 
Yet CaJ/e/ elfe no fad retreat I find. 
While good and amiable * Gayot 's my friend. 
Generous and plain, the friend of human-kind; 

- * Monf. de Gayot, Fils, confeiller d'eftat, et int&ndaat de I'ar- 
mce Franjoile en AUsmagne. 

I 2 Who 



] 
1 



ii6 ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

Who fcoms the little-minded 's partial view ; 

One you would love, one that would relifh you* 

With him fometimes I fup, and often dine. 

And find his prefence cordial more than wine. 

There lively, genial, friendly, Goy and I, 

Touch glaffes oft to one, whofe company 

Would — but what's this ?— Farewell— within two 

hours 
We march for //<jjf/^r-- ever, ever yours. 



CONTENTS 



i^ 



[ "7 1 



CONTENTS 



OF 



ARMSTRONG'S POEMS. 

THE Art of prefenlng Health, In Four 
Books. - - Page t 

Of Benevolence : An Epiftle, - 96 

Of Taste : An Epiftle to a young Critic. 82 

Imitations of Shakespear and Spenser, 93 

Pay : An Epiftle, • * 107 



I5 



THE 

POEMS 

O F 

JOHN LANGHORNE, 

'•' Et vos, O Lauri, carpam; et te, proxima Myrte! 
' Sic pofitje, quoniam fuaves mifcetis odores," VirGo 



I4 



[ ^21 1 



TO THE HONOURABLE 

CHARLES YORKE. 

AMufe that lov'd in Nature's walks to ftray. 
And gather'd many a wild flower in her way. 
To Nature's friend her genuine gifts would bring. 
The light amufements of Life's vacant fpring ; 
Nor fhalt thou, Yorke, her humble offering blame. 
If pure her incenfe, and unmixt her flame. 
She pours no flattery into Folly's car. 
No (hamelcfs hireling of a fhamelefs Peer, 
The friends of Pope indulge her native lays. 
And Gloucester joins with Lyttelton to praife. 
Each judge of art her ftrain, though artlefs loves; 
And Shenstone fmil'd, and polifh'd Hurd approves. 
O may fuch fpirits long protect my page, 
Surviving lights of Wit's departed age! 
Long may I in their kind opinion live I 
AH meaner praife, all envy I forgive 

Yet fairly be my future laurels won! 
Nor let me bear a bribe to Hardwicke"s fon! 
Should his free fuffrage own the favour'd ftrain. 
Though vain the toil, the glory were not vain 



SONNET 



r "2 ] 

SONNET 

TO MR. LANGHORNE. 

BY JOHN SCOTT, esq^; 

LANGHORNE, unknown to me (fequefter'd 
fwain!) 
Save by the Mus e's foul-enchanting lay. 
To kindred fpirits never fung in vain. 
Accept the Tribute of this light eflay ; 
Due for thy {weet fongs that amus'd my day I 
Where fancy held her vifionary reign. 
Or Scotland's honours claim'd the paftoral ftrain. 
Or Music cameo'er Handel tears to pay: 
For all thy Irvvan's flow'ry banks difplay, 
Yhy Perfian Lover and his Indian Fair; 
All Theodosius' mournful lines convey. 
Where Pride and Av'rice part a matchlefs pair ; 
Receive juft praife and wreaths that ne'er decay. 
By Fame and Virtue twin'd for thee to wear, 

Amw ELL, near ^^rd-, 
1 6 March, 1766, 



PROEMIUM 



\ 



C 123 3 

PROEMIUM, WRITTEN IN 1766. 

T N Eden's * vale, where early fancy wrought 

-■■ Her wild embroidery on the ground of thought. 

Where Pembroke's \ grottos, ftrew'd with Sidney's bays, 

Recall'd the dreams of vifionary days. 

Thus the fond Mufe, that footh'd my vacant youth. 

Prophetic fung, and what fhe fung was truth. 

" Boy, break thy lyre, and caft thy reed away; 
Vain are the honours of the fruitlefs bay. 
The' with each charm thy polifh'd lay fhould pleafe^ 
Glow into ftrength, yet foften into eafej 
Should Attic fancy brighten every line. 
And all Aonias harmony be thine; 
Say would thy cares a grateful age repay ? 
Fame wreathe thy brows, or Fortune gild thy way ? 
Ev'n her own fools, if Fortune fmile, fliall blame ; 
And Envy lurks beneath the flowers of Fame. 

Yet, if refolv'd, fecure of future praife. 
To tune fweet fongs, and live melodious days. 
Let not the hand, that decks my holy Ihrine, 
■Round Folly's head the blafted laurel twine. 
Juft to thyfelf, difhoneft grandeur fcorn ; 
Nor gild the buft of meannefs nobly born. 
Let truth, let freedom ftill thy lays approve ! 
Refpeft my precepts, and retain my love ! 

* The river Eden, ia Weftmorland. 

+ TheCountefs of Pembroke, to whom Sir Philip Sydney dedi- 
cated his Arcadia, refided at Appleby, a fmall but beautiful town 
in Weftmorland fituated upon the tden. 

HYMN 



124. LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 



HYMN TO HOPE, 1761, 

EvSov siAijAn He 6, 

I. 

QUN of the foul! whofe chearful ray 
^ Darts o'er this gloom of life a frnile ; 
Sweet Hop E, yet further gild my way. 

Yet light my weary fteps awhile. 
Till thy fair lamp diffolve in endlefs day, 

II. 
O come with fuch an eye and mien. 
As when by amorous Ihepherd feen ; 
While in the violet-breathing vale 
He meditates his evening tale ! 
Nor leave behind thy fairy train. 
Repose, Belief, and Fancy vain; 
That towering on her wing fublime, 
Outftrips the lazy flight of time, 
Riots on diftant days with thee. 
And opens all futurity. 

III. 
O come! and to my penfive eye 
Thy far-forefeeing tube apply, 
Whofe kind deception deals us o'er 
The gloomy wafte that lies before; 



StiU 



H Y M N T O H O P E. laj 

Still opening to the diftant fight 
The funfhine of the mountain's height j 
Where fcenes of fairer afpeft rife, 
Elyfian groves, and azure fkies, 
IV. 
Nor, gentle Hope, forget to bring 
The Family of Youth and Spring j 
The Hours that glide in fprightly round. 
The Mountain-Nymphs with wild thyme crown 'dj 
Delight that dwells with raptur'd eye 

On ftream, or flower, or field or flcy : 

And foremoft in thy train advance 
The 'Loves and Joys in jovial dance | 

Nor laft be Expectation feen. 

That wears a wreath of ever-green. 
V. 

Attended thus by B e l e a u ' s ftreams. 

Oft haft thou footh'd my waking dreams. 

When, prone beneath an ofier fhade. 

At large my vacant limbs were laidj 

To thee and Fancy all refign'd. 

What vifions wander'd o'er my mind! 

Illufions dear, adieu ! no more 

Shall I your fairy haunts explore ; 

For Hope withholds her golden ray," 

And Fancy's colours faint away. 

To Eden's (hores, to Enon's groves, 

Refounding once with D e l i A 's loves. 

Adieu ! that name (hall found no more 

O'er Enon's groves or Eden's fliore: 

I For 



us LANGHORNE*S POEMS. 

For Hope withholds her golden ray. 
And Fancy's colours faint away. 

VI. 
Life's ocean flept, — the liquid gale 
Gently mov'd the waving fail. 
Fallacious Hope ! with flattering eye 
You fmil'd to fee the ftreamers fly. 
The Thunder burfts, the mad wind raves, 
From Slumber wake the 'frighted waves: 
You faw me, fled me thus diftreft. 
And tore your anchor from my breaft. 

VII. 
Yet come, fair fugitive, again ! 
I lo^■e thee ftill, though falfe and vain. 
Forgive me, gentle Hope, and tell 
Where, far from me, you deign to dwell. 
To foothe Ambition's wild defiresj 
To feed the lover's eager fires ; 
Tofwell the mifer's mouldy ftore; 
To gild the dreaming chymift's ore; 
Are thefe thy cares ? or more humane ? 
To loofe the war-worn captive's chain. 
And bring before his languid fight 
The charms of liberty and light; 
The tears of drooping Grief to dry; 
And hold thy glafs to Sorrow's eye? 

VIII. 
Or do'ft thou more delight to dwell 
With Silence in the hernait's cell? 



To 



HYMN TO HOPE. ,a7 

To teach Devotion's flame to rife. 
And wing her vefpers to the (kies ; 
To urge, with ftill returning care. 
The holy violence of prayer; 
In rapt'rous vifions to difplay 
The realms of everlafting day. 
And fnatch from Time the golden key. 
That opens all Eternity? 

IX. 
Perchance, on fome unpeopled ftrand, 
Whofe rocks the raging tide withftand , 
Thy foothing fmile, in defarts drear, 
A lonely mariner may chear, 
\^ ho bravely holds his feeble breath, 
Attack'd by Famine, Pain and Death, 
With thee, he bears each tedious day 
Along the dreary beach to ftray ; 
Whence their wide way his toil'd eyes ftraia 
O'er the blue bofom of the main ; 
And meet, where diftant furges rave, 
A white fail in each foaming wave. 

X. 
Doom'd from each native joy to part. 
Each dear connexion of the heart, , 

You the poor exile's fleps attend. 
The only undeferting friend. 
You wing the flow-declining year; 
You dry the folitary tear ; 
And oft, with pious guile, reftore 
Thofc fcenes he muft behold no more. 

XI. O moft 



z»8 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

XT. 

O moft ador'd of earth or fkies ! 
To thee ten thoufand temples rife ; 
By age retain'd, by youth careft. 
The fame dear idol of the breaft. 
Depriv'd of thee, the wretch were poor. 
That rolls in heaps of Lydian ore : 
With thee the fimple hind is gay, 
Whofe toil fupports the paffing day. 

XII. 
The rofe-lip'd Loves that, round their queen^ 
Dance o'er Cyth era's fmiling green. 
Thy aid implore, thy power difplay 
In many a fweetly-warbled lay. 
For ever in thy facred fhrine. 
Their unextinguifh'd torches (hinej 
Idalian flowers their fweets difFufe, 
And myrtles flied their balmy dews. 
Ah; ftill propitious, may'ft thou deign 
To foothe an anxious lover's pain ! 
By thee deferted, well I know. 
His heart would feel no common woe. 
His gentle prayer propitious hear. 
And flop the frequent-falling tear. 

XIII. 
For me, fair Hope, if once again 
Perchance, to fmile on me you deign. 
Be fuch your fweetly-rural air. 
And fuch a graceful vifage wear. 



H Y M N T O H O P E. 1*9 

As when, with Truth and young Desire, 
You wak'd the lord oFHagley's lyrej 
And painted to her Poet's mind. 
The charms of Lucy, fair and kind. 
XIV. 

But ah! too early loft! then go. 

Vain Hope, thou harbinger of woe. 

Ah! no; that thought diftrads my heart: 

Indulge me, Hope, we muft not part 
Direft the future as you pleafe; 
But give me, give me prefent eafe. 

XV. 
Sun of the foul! whofe chearful ray 

Darts o'er this gloom of life a fmile; 
Sweet Hop e, yet further gild my way. 

Yet light my weary fteps awhile. 
Till thy fair lamp diflblve in endlefs day. 



VoL.LXXI. K GENIUS 



t 132 ] 

GENIUS AND VALOUR 
A PASTORAL POEM. 

WRITTEN IN HONOUR OF A SISTER KINGDOM, 
1763. 

Amyntor, Chorus of Shepherds. 
"«T THERE Tweed's fair plains in liberal beauty 

And Flora laughs beneath a lucid fky ; 

Long winding vales where cryftal waters lave. 

Where blythe birds warble, and where green woods 

wave, 
A bright-hair'd fliepherd, in young beauty's bloom, 
Tun'd his fweet pipe behind the yellow broom. 

Free to the gale his waving ringlets lay. 
And his blue eyes difFus'd an azure day. 
Light o'er his limbs a carelefs robe he flung ; 
Health rais'd his heart, and ftrength his firm nerves ftrung. 

His native plains poetic charms infpir'd. 
Wild fcenes, where ancient Faricy oft retir'd ! 
Oft led her faeries to the Shepherd's lay. 
By Yarrow's banks, or groves of End erma y. 

Nor only his thofe images that rife 
Fair to the glance of Fancy's plaftic eyes ; 
His Country's love his patriot foul poflefs'd. 
His Country's honour fir'd his filial breaft. 
Her lofty genius, piercing, bright, and bold. 
Her valour witnefs'd by the world of old, 

Witnefs-d, 



GENIUS AND VALOUR. 133 

Witnefs'd once more by recent heaps of flain 
On Canada's wild hills, and Minden's plain. 

To founds fublimer wak"d his paftoral reed 

Peace, Mountain- Echoes! while the ftrains proceed. 
Amyntor. 

No more of Tiviot, nor the flowery braes. 
Where the blythe Shepherd tunes his lightfome lays ; 
No more of Leader's faery-haunted fhore. 
Of ATHOL'sLawns,andGLEDswooD-Banksnomore, 
Unheeded fmile my Country's native charms. 
Loft in the glory of her arts and arms. 
Thefe, Shepherds, thefe demand fublimer ftrains 
ThanCL VD e's clear fountains, or than Athol's plains. 
Chorus of Shepherds. 

Shepherd, to thee fublimer lays belong. 
The force divine of Soul-commanding fong. 
Thefe humble Reeds have little learnt to play. 
Save the light airs that chear the paftoral day. 
Of the clear fountain, and the fruitful plain 
We fing, as Fa7icy guides the fimple ftrain. 
If then thy Country's facred fame demand 
The high-ton"d mufic of a happier hand 
Shepherd, to thee fublimer lays belong. 
The force divine of Soul-commanding fong. 
Amyntor. 

In fpite of Faction's blind, unmanner'd rage. 
Of various fortune and deftrudlive age. 
Fair Scotland's honours yet unchang'd are feen. 
Her palms ftill blooming, and her laurels green, 

K 2 Freed 



334 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Freed from the confines of her Gothic grave. 
When her firft light reviving Science gave. 
Alike o'er Britain fhone the liberal ray. 
From* Enswith's mountains to the banks of Tat. 

For Jam Es + the Mufes tun'd their fportive lays. 
And bound the Monarch's browvvithCHAucEP.'sbays. 
Arch Humour fmil'd to hear his mimic ftrain. 
And plaufive Laughter thrill'd through every vein. 

When Tafte and Genius form the Royal Mind, 
The favour'd arts a happier era find. 
By James belov'd the Mufes tun'd their lyres 
To nobler ftrains, and breath'd diviner fires. 
But the dark mantle of involving Time 
Has veil'd their beauties, and obfcur'd their rhyme. 

Yet ftill fome pleafing monuments remain. 
Some marks of genius in each later reign. 
In nervous ftrains Dunbar's bold mufic flows. 
And Time yet fpares the Thijile and the Rofe X- 

O, while his courfe the hoary warrior fteers 
Through the long range of life-diffolving years. 
Through all the evils of each changeful age. 
Hate, Envy, Faftion, Jealoufy, and Rage, 
Ne'er may his Scythe thefe facred plants divide, 
Thefe plants by Heaven in native union tied ! 

* A chain of mountains near Folkftone in Kent. 

-| James the Firft, King of Scotland, Author of the famous old 
fong, entitled Chrijl's Kirk on the Green. 

\ A poem fo called, written in honour of Margaret, daughter of 
Henry VII. on her marriage to James IV. King of Scots. By 
Mr. William Dunbar, 

Still 



GENIUS AND VALOUR. 135 

Still may the flower its focial fweets difclofe. 
The hardy Thiftle ftill defend the Rofe ! 

Hail happy days! appeas'd by Margaret's charms. 
When rival Valour Iheath'd his fatal arms. 
When kindred realms unnatural war fuppreft. 
Nor aim'd their arrows at a fifter's breaft. 

Kind to the Mufe is Qui et's genial day ; 
Her olive loves the foliage of the bay. 

With bold Dunbar arofe a numerous choir. 
Of rival bards that ftrung the Doriaii lyre. 
In gentle Henry son's* unlabour'd ftrain 
Sweet Arethusa's fliepherd breath'd again : 
Kor (hall your tuneful vifions be forgot. 
Sage Bellemtyne +, and fancy-painting Scott :|;. 
But, O my Country ! how fhall Memory trace 
Thy bleeding anguifh, and thy dire difgrace ? 
Weep o'er the ruins of thy blafted bays. 
Thy glories loft in either Charles's days? 
When through thy fields deftrudive Rapine fpread. 
Nor fparing infant's tears, nor hoary head. 
In thofe dread days the unprotefted fwain 
Mourn 'd on the mountains o'er his wafted plain. 
Nor longer vocal with the Shepherd's lay 
Were Yarrow's banks, or groves of Endermay. 

* Mr. Robert Henryfon, an ingenious paftoral poet. 

+ Mr. John Bellentyne, Archdean of Murray, Author of a 
beautiful allegorical poem, entitled, Virtue and Vice. 

■\ Mr. Archibald Scott, in the year 1524, tranflated the Vifion, a 
poem, faid to have been written in the year 1360. He was Author 
of the Eagle and the Redbreaft alfo, and fevtral other pieces writtea 
with uncommon elegance for their day. 

K 3 Chorus 



336 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Chorus of Shepherds. 

Amyntor, ceafe ! the painful fcene forbear 
Nor the fond breaft of filial duty tear. 
Yet in our eyes our fathers forrows flow. 
Yet in our bofoms lives their lafting woe. 
At eve returning from their fcanty fold. 
When the long fufferings of their fires they told. 
Oft have we figh'd the piteous tale to hear. 
And infant wonder dropt the mimic tear. 
Amyntor. 

Shepherds, no longer need your forrows flow. 
Nor pious duty cherifh endlefs woe. 
Yet fliould Rcmemhrmice , led by filial Love, 
Through the dark vale of old Affliftions rove. 
The mournful fliades of forrows paft explore. 
And think of miferies that are no more ; 
Let thofe fad fcenes that alk the duteous tear. 
The kind return of happier days endear. 

Hail, Anna, hail! O may each mufe divine 
With wreaths eternal grace thy holy flirine ! 
Grav'd on thy tomb this facred verfe remain. 
This verfe more fweet than Conqueft's founding flrain, 
** She bade the rage of hoftile nations ceafe, 
*' The glorious arbitrefs of Europe's peace. 
She, through whofe bofom roUd the vital tide 
Of Britain's Monarchs in one ftream allied, 
Clos'd the long jealoufies of different fway. 
And faw united Siikr-Realms obey. 

Aufpicious days ! when Tyranny no more 
Rais'd his red arm, nor drenchd his darts in gore. 

When, 



GENIUS AND VALOUR. 137 

Wherij long an Exile from his native plain. 
Safe to his fold returned the weary fvvain. 
Return'd, and, many a painful fummer paft. 
Beheld the green bench by his door at laft. 

Aufpicious days ! when Scots, no more oppreft. 
On their free mountains bar'd the-fearlefs breaft. 
With pleafure faw their flocks unbounded feed. 
And tun'd to ftrains of ancient joy the reed. 

Then, Shepherds, did your wondering fires behold 
A form divine, whofe vefture flam'd with gold ; 
His radiant eyes a ftarry luftre fhed. 
And folar glories beam'd around his head. 
Like that ftrange power by fabling poets feign 'd. 
From Eafl: to Weft his mighty arms he ftrain'd. 
A rooted olive in one hand he bore. 
In one a globe, infcrib'd with fea and fhore. 
From Thames's banks to Tweed, to Tay he came. 
Wealth in his rear, and Commerce was his name. 

Glad Industry the glorious ftranger hails. 
Rears the tall mafts, and fpreads the fwelling fails 5 
Regions remote with aftive hope explores. 
Wild Zembla's hills, and Afric's burning (hores. 

But chief, Columbus, of thy various coaft. 
Child o{ the Union, Commerce bears his boaft. 
To feek thy new-found worlds, the vent'rous fwain. 
His lafs forfaking, left the lowland plain. 
Afide his crook, his idle pipe he threw. 
And bade to Mufic, and to Love adieu. 

Hence, Glasgow fair, thy wealth-difFufing hand. 
Thy groves of vefTels, and thy crowded ftrand. 

K 4 Hence, 



13? LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Hence, round his folds the moorland Shepherd fpies 
New focial towns, and happy hamlets rife. 

But me not fplendor, nor the hopes of gain 
Should ever tempt to quit the peaceful plain. 
Shall I, pofTeft of all that life requires. 
With tutor'd hopes, and limited defires. 
Change thefe fweet fields, thefe native fcenes of eafe. 
For climes uncertain, and uncertain feas ? 

Nor yet, fair Commerce, do I thee difdain. 
Though Guilt and Death and Riot fwell thy train, 
Chear'd by the influence of thy gladdening ray. 
The liberal arts fublimer works effay. 
Genius for thee relumes his facrcd fires. 
And Science nearer to her heaven afpires. 

The fanguine eye of Tyranny long clos'd, 
Ey Commerce fofter'd, and in Peace repos'd. 
No more her miferles when my Country mourn 'd. 
With brighter flames her glowing genius burn'd. 
Soon wandering fearlefs many a mufe was feen 
O'er the dun mountain, and the wild wood green. 
Soon, to the warblings of the paftoral reed. 
Started fweet Echo from the Ihores of Tweed. 

O favoured ftream ! where thy fair current flows. 
The child of nature, gentle Thomson rofe. 
Young as he wander'd on thy flowery fide. 
With Ample joy to fee thy bright waves glide. 
Thither, in all their native charms array'd. 
From climes remote the fifl:er Seasons ftray'd. 

Long each in beauty boalled to excel, 
(For jealoufies in fiUcr-bofoms dwell) 

4 But 



GENIUS AND VALOUR. 139 

But now, delighted with the liberal boy. 
Like Heaven's fair rivals in the groves of Troy, 
Yield to an humble fwain their high debate, 
And from his voice the palm of beauty wait. 

Her naked charms, like Venus, to difclofe. 
Spring from her bofom threw the fhadowing rofe ; 
Bar'd the pure fnow that feeds the lover's fire. 
The breaft that thrills with exquifite defire; 
Affum'd the tender fmile, the melting eye. 
The breath fa'vo?iian, and the yielding figh. 
One beauteous hand a wilding's bloffom grac'd. 
And one fell carelefs o'er her zonelefs waift. 

Majeftic Summer, in gay pride adorn'd. 
Her rival filler's fimple beauty fcorn'd. 
With purple wreaths her lofty brows were bound. 
With glowing flowers her rifing bofom crown'd. 
In her gay zone, by artful Fancy fram'd. 
The bright Rofe blufli'd, the full Carnation flam'd. 
Her cheeks the glow of fplendid clouds difplay. 
And her eyes flafli infufferable day. 

With milder air the gentle Autumn came. 
But feem'd to languifh at her Sifter's flame. 
Yet, confcious of her boundlefs wealth, (he bore 
On high the emblems of her golden ftore. 
Yet could (he boaft the plenty-pouring hand, 
T he liberal fmile, benevolent and bland. 
Nor might flie fear in beauty to excell. 
From whofe fair head fuch golden treffes fell ; 
Nor might fhe envy Summer's flowery zone, 
la whofe fweet eye the ftar of evening (hone, 

Next, 



HO LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Next, the pale Power, that blots the golden iky, 
Wreath'd her grim brows, and roU'd her ftormy eye ; 
" Behold," fhe cried, with voice that fliook the ground, 
(The Bard, the Sifters trembled at the found) 
** Ye weak admirers of a grape, or rofe, 
" Behold my wild magnificence of fnows ! 
" See my keen Froft her glafly bofom bare ! 
" Mock the faint fun, and bind the fluid air! 
" Nature to you may lend a painted hour, 
'♦ With you may fport, when I fufpend ray power. 
" But you and Nature, who that power obey, 
" Shall own my beauty, or fhall dread my fway." 

She fpoke : the Bard, whofe gentle heart ne'er gave 
One pain or trouble that he knew to fave. 
No favour'd nymph extols with partial lays. 
But gives to each her pifture for her praife. 

Mute lies his lyre in death's unchearful gloom. 
And Truth and Genius weep at Thomson's tomb. 

Yet ftill the mufe's living founds pervade 
Her ancient fcenes of CaLdoniaji (hade. 
Still nature liftens to the tuneful lay. 
On Kilda's mountains and in En derm ay. 

Th' ethereal brilliance of poetic fire. 
The mighty hand that fmites the founding lyre. 
Strains that on fancy's ftrongeft pinion rife. 
Conceptions vaft, and thoughts that grafp the fldcs, 
To the rapt youth that mus'd on* Shake spear's grave, 
ToOgilvie the mufe of Pindar gave. 

* See Mr. Ogilvie's Ode to the Genius of Shakefpear. 

*TlME, 



GENIUS AND VALOUR. h» 

* Time, as he fung, a moment ceas'd to fly. 
And lazy + Sleep unfolded half his eye. 

O wake, fweet Bard, the Theban lyre again ; 
With ancient valour fwell the founding ftrain. 
i lail the high trophies by thy country won, 
7'he wreaths that flourifh for each valiant fon. 

While Hardyknute frowns red with Norway's gore, 
'aint her pale matrons weeping on the fhore. 
' lark ! the green Clarion pouring floods of breath 

oluminoufly loud ; high fcorn of death 
] ]ach gallant fpirit elates ; fee Rothfay's thane 
With arm of mountain oak his firm bow ftrain ! 
Hark! the ftring twangs — the v^hizzing arrow flies ; 
The fierce Norse falls — indignant falls — and dies. 
O'er the dear urn, where glorious % Wallace fleeps. 
True Valour bleeds, and patriot Virtue weeps. 
*-on of the Lyre, what high ennobling fl:rain, 
■• hat meed from thee fiiall generous Wallace gain ? 
who greatly fcorning an Ufurper's pride, 
£ar'd his brave breaft for liberty, and died. 

Boaft, Scotland, boaft thy fons of mighty name. 
Thine ancient chiefs of high heroic faine. 
Souls that to death their Country's foes oppos'd. 
And life in freedom, glorious freedom clos'd. 

* Ode to Time. Ibid. 
+ Ode to Sleep. Ibid. 

J William Wallace, who after bravely defending his country 
-gainft the arms of Edward I. was executed as a Rebel, though he 
jj taken no oath of allegiance. 

Where, 



14?. LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Where, yet bevvail'd, Argyle's * warm allies lie. 
Let Mufic breathe her moft perfuafive figh. 
To him, what Heaven to man could give, it gave. 
Wife, generous, honeft, eloquent and brave. 
Genius and Valour for Argyle fhall mourn. 
And his own laurels flourifli round his urn. 
O, may they bloom beneath a fav'ring Iky, 
And in their fhade Reproach and Enuy die ! 

* Aichibald, the third Duke of Argyle, died April i J, 1761. 



THE 



C 143 J 

THE VISIONS OF FANCY. 

In four elegies, 1762. 

La Raifon f^alt que c'eft un Songe, 

Mais elle en faifit les douceurs : 

Elk a befoin de ces fantomes, 

Prefque tons les Plaijirs des Hommes 

Ne font que de douces Erreurs. Gresest. 

ELEGY I. 
/CHILDREN of Fancy, whither are ye fled ? 
^-^ Where have you borne thofe Hope-enliven'd Hours, 
Tliat once with myrtle garlands bound my head. 

That once beftrew'd my vernal path with flowers ? 
In yon fair vale, where blooms the beechen grove. 

Where winds the flow wave thro' the flowery plain. 
To thefe fond arms you led the Tyrant, Love, 

With Fear and Hope and Folly in his train. 
My lyre, that, left at carelefs diftance, hung 

Light on fome pale branch of the ofier fhade. 
To lays of amorous blandifliment you ftrung. 

And o'er my fleep the lulling mufic play'd. 
" Rcfl:, gentle youth ! while on the quivering breeze 

♦' Slides to thine ear this foftly breathing ftrain ; 
" Sounds that move fmoother than the {leps of eafe, 

" And pour oblivion in the ear of pain. 
" In this fair vale eternal fpring fliall fmile, 

*' And Time unenvious crown each rofeate hour ; 
'* Eternal joy fliall every care beguile, 

" Breathe in each gale, and bloom in every flower. 

•« This 



14-4. LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

*♦ This filver ftream, that down its cryftal way 

•' Frequent has led thy mufing fteps along, 
*' Shall, ftill the fame, in funny mazes play, 

" And with it's murmurs melodife thy fong. 
*• Unfading green fhall thefe fair groves adorn ; 

" Thofe living meads immortal flowers unfold; 
" In rofy fmiles fhall rife each blufhing morn, 

♦* And eveiy evening clofe in clouds of gold. 
*• The tender Loves that watch thy flumbering refl:, 

" And round thee flowers and balmy myrtles ftre^, 
*♦ Shall charm, thro' all approaching life, thy bread, 

" With Joys for ever pure, for ever new. 

*' The genial power that fpeeds the golden dart, 

" Each charm of tender pafllon fliall infpire ; 
" With fond afFcftion fill the mutual heart, 

" And feed the flame of ever-young Desire. 
" Come gentle Loves ! your myrtle garlands bring ; 

" The fmiling bower with clufter'd rofes fpread; 
*• Come gentle Airs ! with incenfe-dropping wing 

*' The breathing fweets of vernal odour fhed. 
" Hark, as the ftrains of fwelling mufic rife, 

" How the notes vibrate on the fav'ring gale! 
*• Aufpicious glories beam along the flcies, 

'» And powers unfeen the happy moments hail! 
*' Extatic hours ! fo every diflant day 

" Like this ferene on downy wings fhall move ; 
" Rife crown'd with joys that triumph o'er decay, 

*' The faithful joys of Fancy and of Love." 

ELEGY 



[ H^ 1 

ELEGY IL 

AN D were they vain, thofe foothing lays ye fung ? 
Children of Fancy ! yes, your fong was vain ; 
On each foft air though rapt Attention hung. 

And Silence liften'd on the fleeping plain. 
The ftrains yet vibrate on my raviftit ear. 

And ftill to fmile the mimic beauties feem. 
Though now the vifionary fcenes appear 

Like the faint traces of a vanilht dream. 
Mirror of life ! the glories thus depart 

Of all that Youth and Love and Fancy frame. 
When painful Anguish fpeeds the piercing dart. 

Or Envy blafts the blooming flowers of Fame. 
Nurfe of wild wifhes, and of fond defires. 

The prophetefs of Fortune, falfe and vain. 
To fcenes where Peace in R u i n 's arms expires 
Fallacious Hope deludes her haplefs train. 

Go, Syren, go thy charms on others try ; 

My beaten bark at length has reach'd the fhope ; 
Yet on the rock my dropping garments lie ; 
And let me perifh, if I truft thee more. 
Come gentle Quiet ! long-neglefted maid! 

O come, and lead me to thy moffy cell ; 
There unregarded in the peaceful fhade. 

With calm Repose and S i l e n c e let me dwell. 
Come happier hours of fvveet unanxious reft. 

When all the ftruggling paflions fhall fubfide ; 

When Peace fhall clafp me to her plumy breaft. 

And fmoothe my filent minutes as they glide. 

But 



146 L A N G H O R N E ' S POEMS. 

But chief, thou goddefs of the thoughtlefs eye. 
Whom never cares or paflions difcompofe, 

O bleft Insensibility be nigh. 

And with thy foothing hand my weary eyelids clofc. 

Then fhall the cares of love and glory ceafe. 

And all the fond anxieties of fame ; 
Alike regardlefs in the arms of Peace, 

If thefe extol, or thofe debafe a name. 

In Lytt ELTON though all the mufes praife. 
His generous praife (hall then delight no more. 

Nor the fweet magick of his tender lays 
Shall touch the bofom which it charm'd before. 

Nor then, though Malice, with infidious guife 
Of friendfhip, ope the unfufpefting breaft ; 

Nor then, though Envy broach her blackening lies. 
Shall thefe deprive me of a moment's reft. 

O ftate to be defir'd ! when hoftile rage 

Prevails in human more than favage haunts ; 

When man with man eternal war will wage. 
And never yield that mercy which he wants. 

When dark Design invades the chearful hour. 
And draws the heart with focial freedom warm. 

It's cares, it's wiflies, and it's thoughts to pour. 
Smiling infidious with the hopes of harm. 

Vain man, to other's failings ftill fevere. 
Yet not one foible in himfelf can find ; 

Another's faults to Folly's eye are clear. 
But to her own e'en Wisdom's felf is blind, 

Olet 



ELEGY III. t45 

O let me ftill, from thefe low follies free. 
This fordid malice, and inglorious ftrife, 

Myfelf the fubjeft of my cenfure be. 

And teach my heart to comment on ray life. 

With thee. Philosophy, ftill let me dwell. 
My tutor'd mind from vulgar meannefs fave ; 

Bring Peace, bring Quiet to my humble cell. 
And bid them lay the green turf on my grave, 

ELEGY III. 

BRIGHT o'er the green hills rofe the morning ray. 
The wood-lark's fong refounded on the plain ; 

Fair Nat u r e felt the warm embrace of day. 
And fmil'd through all her animated leign. 

When young Delight, of Hope and Fancy born. 
His head on tufted wild thyme half-reclin'd. 

Caught the gay colours of the orient morn. 
And thence of life tliis pifture vain defign'd, 

** O born to thoughts, to pleafures more fublime 
*• Than beings of inferior nature prove ! 

•** To triumph in the golden hours of Ti m e, 
" And feel the charms of fancy and of love ! 

" High-favour'd man ! for him unfolding fair 
*' In orient light this native landfcape fmiles; 

*' For him fweet Hop e difarms the hand of care, 
*' Exalts his pleafures, and his grief beguiles. 

Vol. LXXI L "Blows 



14^ LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

♦* Blows not a bloflbm on the bread of Spring, 
" Breathes not a gale along the bending mead, 

** Trills not a fongfter of the foaring wing, 
** But fragrance, health and melody fucceed, 

*' O let me ftill with fimple Nature live, 
*' My lowly field-flowers on her altar lay, 

" Enjoy the bleflings that fhe meant to give, 
*' And calmly wafte my inofFenfive day! 

** No titled name, no envy-teafing dome, 

** No glittering wealth my tutor'd wifhes crave ; 

*' So Health and Peace be near my humble home, 
*' A cool ftream murmur, and a green tree wave, 

** So may thefweet Euterpe not difdain 
** At Eve's chafle hour her filver lyre to bring : 

•* The mufe of pity wake her foothing ftrain, 
** And tune to fympathy the trembling firing. 

** Thus glide the penfive moments, o'er the vale 
** While floating fhades of dufky night defcend : 

*' Not left untold the lover's tender tale, 
** Nor unenjoy'd the heart-enlarging friend. 

** To love and friendlhip flow the focial bowl! 

** To attic wit and elegance of mind ; 
** To all the native beauties of the foul, 

** The fimple charms of truth, and fenfe refin'd! 

** Then to explore whatever ancient fage 
*' Studious from nature's early volume drew, 

«' To chafe fweet Fiction through her golden age, 
" Aod mark how fair the fun-flower. Science, blew ! 

•* Hapl/ 



ELEGY III. J47 

•« Haply to catch fome fpark of eaftern fire, 

" Hefperian fancy, or Aonian eafe; 
« Some melting note from Sappho's tender lyre, 

** Some ftrain that Love and Phoebus taught to 
pleafe, 

'* When waves the grey light o'er the mountain's head, 
" Then let me meet the morn's firfl beauteous ray ; 

'* Carelefsly wander from my fylvan flied, 

" And catch the fweet breath of the rifmg day. 

*' Nor feldom, loitring as I mufe along, 
*' Mark from what flower the breeze it's fweetnefs 
bore ; 
** Or liften to the labour-foothing fong 
" Of bees that range the thymy uplands o'er; 

** Slow let me climb the mountain's airy brow, 
*' The green height gain'd, in mufeful rapture lie, 

** Sleep to the murmur of the woods below, 
*' Or look on Nature with a lover's eye. 

*« Delightful hours! O, thus for ever flow ; 

" Led by fair Fancy round the varied year: 
*' So {hall my bread with native raptures glow, 
** Nor feel one pang from folly, pride, or fear. 

*' Firm be my heart to Nature and to Truth, 
** Nor vainly wander from their diftates fage; 
«* So Joy fliall triumph on the brows of youth, 
*« So Hope fliall fmoothe the dreary paths of age. 



L 2 ELEGY 



i^'Si LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 



ELEGY IV. 

OH! yet, ye dear, deluding vifions (lay! 

Fond hopes, of Innocence and Fancy bom! 
For you I'll caft thefe waking thoughts away. 

For one wild dream of life's romantic morn; 

Ah! no: the funfhine o'er each objeft fpread 

By flattering Hope, the flowers that blew fofair; 

Like the gay gardens of Armida fled. 

And vanifli'd from the powerful rod of Care. 

So the poor pilgrim, who in rapturous thought 
Plans his dear journey to Loretto's flirine. 

Seems on his way by guardian feraphs brought. 
Sees aiding angels favour his defign. 

Ambrofial bloffoms, fuch of old as blew 
By thofe frefli fonnts on Eden's happy plain. 

And Sharon's rofes all his paflage ftrew : 

So Fancy dreams; but Fancy's dreams are vain; 

Wafted and weary on the mountain's fide. 
His way unknown, the haplefs pilgrim lies. 

Or takes fome rutlilefs robber for his guide. 
And prone beneath his cruel fabre dies. 

Life's morning-landfcape gilt with orient light. 

Where Hope and Joy and Fancy hold their reign. 
The grove's green wave, the blue ftream fparkling 
bright. 
The blythc hours dancing round Hj^eriott^ wain : 

In 



ELEGY IV. 14, 

Tn radiant colours Youth's free hand pourtrays. 
Then holds the flattering tablet to his eye j 

ixor thinks how foon the vernal grove decays. 
Nor fees the dark cloud gathering o'er the £ky. 

Hence Fancy conquer'd by the dart of Pain, 
And wandering far from her Platonic fhade. 

Mourns o'er the ruins of hertranfient reign. 
Nor unrepining fees her vifions fade. 

Their parent banlfh'd, hence her children fly. 
Their fairy race that fill'd her fefi:ive train ; 

; Y tears his wreath, and Hope inverts her eye. 
And Folly wonders that her dream was vain. 



lu% A P O E M 



[ lio ] 



M, 



TO THE MEMORY OF 



Mr. 



HANDEL, 1760*. 



OPIRITSof mufic, and ye powers of fong ! 

^ That wak'd to painful melody the lyre 

Of young Jessides, when, in Sion's vale 

He wept o'er bleeding friendfhip ; ye that mourn'd 

While freedom drooping o'er Euphrates' ftream. 

Her penfive harp on the pale ofier hung. 

Begin once more the forrow-foothing lay. 

Ah ! where fhall now the Mufe fit numbers find ? 
What accents pure to greet thy tuneful fhade. 
Sweet harmonift ? 'twas thine, the tender fall 
Of pity's plaintive lay; for thee the ftream 
Of filver-winding mufic fweeter play'd. 
And purer flow'd for thee, - all filent now 
+ Thofeairs that, breathing o'er the breaft of Thames, 
Led amorous Echo down the long, long vale. 
Delighted ; fludious from thy fweeter ftrain 
To melodife her own ; when fancy-lorn. 
She mourns in Anguifh o'er the drooping breaft 
Of young Narcissus. From their amber urns, 
;j: Parting their green locks ftreaming in the fun, 

*He died 14 April, 1 759. 
+ The Water-Mufic. 



J Rorantcfij; Comas a Fronte remorit ad Aurcsi Ovid. Mtt 



TM 



TO THE MEMORY OF HANDEL. i^t 

The Naiads rofe and fmird : nor fince the day. 
When firft by mufic, and by freedom led 
From Grecian Ac id ale; nor fince the day. 
When laft from Arno's weeping fount they came. 
To fmooth the ringlets of Sabrina's hair. 
Heard they like minftrelfy — fountains and fhades 
Of Twit'nam, and of Windsor fam'd in fong! 
Ye heights of Clermont, and ye bowers of Ham! 
That heard the fine ftrain vibrate through your groves. 
Ah ! where were then your long-lov'd Mufes fled. 
When Handel breath'd no more?— and thou, fweeC 

Queen, 
That nightly wrapt thy Milton's hallow'dear 
In the foft ecftafies of Lydian airs ; 
* That fince attun'd to Handel's high-wound lyre 
The lay by thee fuggefted; could "ft not thou 
Soothe with thy fweet fong the grim+ fury's breaft ? 

Cold-hearted Death! his wanly-glaring eye 
Nor virtue's fmile attrafts, nor fame's loud trump 
Can pierce his iron ear, for ever barr'd 
To gentle founds : the golden voice of fong. 
That charms the gloomy partner of his birth. 
That foothes Defpair and Pain, he hears no more. 
Than rude winds, bluft'ring from the C a m b r i a n cliffs^ 
The traveller's feeble lay. To court fair fame. 
To toil with flow fleps up the flar-crown'd hill, 

* L'AUegroand II Penferofo, fet to Mufic by Mr, Handei,. 
+ See Milton's Lycidas. 

L4 Where 



152 LANGHORNE^S P0EM3 

Where fcience, leaning on her fculptur'd urn. 

Looks confcious on the fecret-working hand 

Of Nature ; on the wings of genius borne. 

To foar above the beaten walks of life. 

Is, like the paintings of an evening cloud, 

Th' amufement of an hour. Night, gloomy night 

Spreads her black wings, and all the vifion dies. 

Ere long, the heart, that heaves this figh to thee. 
Shall beat no more ! ere long, on this fond lay 
Which mourns at Handel's tomb, infulting Time 
Shall ftrew his cankering ruft. Thy ftrain, perchance. 
Thy facred ftrain fhall the hoar warrior fpare ; 
For founds like thine, at Nature's early birth, 
Arous"d him flumbering on the dead profound 
Of dufky Chaos ; by the golden harps 
Of choral angels fummon'd to his race : 
And founds like thine, when nature is no more. 
Shall call him weary from the lengthen'd toils 
Of twice tenthoufand years. — O would his hand 
Yet fpare fome portion of this vital flame. 
The trembling Mufe that now faint effort makes 
On young and artlefs wing, lliould bear thy praife 
Sublime, above the mortal bounds of earth. 
With heavenly fire relume her feeble ray. 
And, tauglit by Seraphs, frame her fong for thee, 

I FEEL, I feel the facred impulfe — hark J 
Wak'd from according Lyres the fweet ftrains flow 
In fymphony divine ; from air to air 
The trembling numbers fly : fwift burfts away 

The 



TO THE MEMORY OF HANDEL. 153 

The flow of joy — now fvvells the flight of praife. 
Springs the flirill trump aloft ; the toiling chords 
Melodious labour through the flying maze ; 
And the deep bafe his ftrong found rolls away, 

Majeftically fweet. Yet, Handel, raife. 

Yet wake to higher ftrains thy facred lyre : 
The name of ages, the fupreme of things. 
The great Messiah a(ks it; He whofe hand 
Led into form yon ev eriafting Orbs, 
The harmony of nature — He whofe hand 
Stretch'd o'er the wilds of fpace this beauteous ball, 
Whofe fpirit breathes through all his fmiling works 
Mufic and love— -yet Handel raife the ftrain. 

Hark! what angelic founds, what voice divine 
Breathes through the ravilht air! my rapt ear feel* 
The harmony of Heaven; Hail facred Choir! 
Immortal Spirits, hail ! If haply thofe 
That erft infavour'd Palestine proclaim'd 
Glory and peace : her angel-haunted groves. 
Her piny mountains, and her golden vales 
Re-echo'd peace — But, Oh! fufpend the {train— 
The fwelling joy's too much for mortal bounds I 
'Tis tranfport even to pain. 

Yet, hark? what pleafing founds invite mine ear 
So venerably fweet ? 'Tis Sign's lute. 
Behold her * hero ! from his valiant brow 
Looks Judah's lyon, on his tliigh thefword 

♦ Judas Maccabseus. 

c Of 



J54. LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Of vanqulfh'd Apollonius — The fhrill trump 
Through Bethoron proclaims th' approaching fight. 
I fee the brave youth lead his little band. 
With toil and hunger faint ; yet from his arm 
The rapid Syrian flies. Thus Henry once. 
The Britifli Henry, with his way-worn troop, 
Subdu'd the pride of France — Now louder blows 
The martial clangor ; lo Ni c a no r's hoft ! 
With threat'ning turrets crown'd, fiowly advance 

The ponderous elephants • 

The blazing fun, from many a golden fhield 
Refleded, gleams afar. Judean chief! 
How fhall thy force, thy little force fuftain 
The dreadful {hock! 

+ The hero comes — 'Tis boundlefs mirth and fong 
And dance and triumph ; every labouring ftring. 
And voice, and breathing fhell in concert ftrain 
To fwell the raptures of tumultuous joy. 

O mafter of the paffions and the foul. 
Seraphic Handel ! how fhall words defcribe 
Thy mufic's countlefs graces, naraelefs powers! 

Whenj he of Gaza, blind, and funk in chains> 
Ou female treachery looks greatly down. 
How the breaft bums indignant! in thy ftrain. 
When fweet-voic'd piety refigns to heaven. 
Glows not each bofom with the flame of virtue ? 



+ Chorus of youths, in Judas Maccabeus, 
J See the Oratorio of Samfon, 

O'er 



TO THE MEMORY OF HANDEL. 155 

O'er Jephtha's votive maid when the foft lute 
Sounds the flow fymphony of funeral grief. 
What youthful breaft bcit melts with tender pity ? 
What parent bleeds not with a parent's woe ? 

O, longer than this worth lay can live ! 
While fame and mufic footh the human ear! 
Be this thy praife : to lead the polifh'd mind 
To virtue's nobleft heights; to light the flame 
Of Britifli freedom, roufe the generous thought^ 
Refine the paflions, and exalt the foul 
To love, to heaven, to harmony and thee. 



THE 



[ 154 ] 

THE ENLARGEMENT OF THE MIND. 
EPISTLE I. 
TO GENERAL CRAUFURD. 






WRITTEN AT BELVIDEREj 



.76;. 



WH E R E is the man, who, prodigal of mind. 
In one wide wi(h embraces human kind ? 
All pride of fefls, all party zeal above, 
Whofe Prieft is Reafon, and whofe God is Love ; 
Fair Nature's friend, a foe to fraud and art 
Where is the man, fo welcome to my heart ? 

The fightlefs herd fequacious, who purfue 
Dull Folly's path, and do as others do. 
Who look with purblind prejudice and fcorn. 
On different fefts, in different nations born. 
Let Us, my Craufurd, with compaffion view. 
Pity their pride, but fliun their error too. 

From Belvidere's fair groves, and mountains green. 
Which Nature rais'd, rejoicing to befeen. 
Let Us, while raptur'd on her works we gaze. 
And the heart riots on luxurious praife, 
Th' expanded thought, the boundlefs wilh retain. 
And let not Nature moralize in vain. 

O facred Guide! preceptrefs more fublime 
Than fages boafting o'er the wrecks of time ! 



See 



ENLARGEMENT OF THE MIND. 155 

See on each page her beauteous volume bear 
The golden charafters of good and fair. 
All human knowledge (bliifli collegiate pride!) 
Flows from her works, to none that reads denied. 

Shall the dull inmate of pedantic walls. 
On whofe old walk the funbeam feldom falls. 
Who knows of nature, and of man no more 

Than fills fome page of antiquated lore 

Shall he, in words and terms profoundly wife, 
'J'he better knowledge of the world defpife. 
Think Wifdom center'd in afal/e degree^ 
And fcorn the fcholar of Humanity ? 

Something of men thefe fapient drones may know. 
Of men that liv'd two thoufand years ago. 
Such human monfters if the world e'er knew. 
As ancient verfe, and ancient ftory drew! 

If to one objeft, fyftem, fcene confm'd. 
The fure efFeft is narrownefs of mind. 

'Twas thus St. Robert, in his lonely wood, 
Forfook each focial duty — to be good. 
Thus HoBBES on one dear fyftem fix'd his eyes. 
And prov'd his nature wretched— to be wife. 
Each zealot thus, elate with ghoftly pride. 
Adores liis God, and hates the world befide. 

Though form'd with powers to grafp this various ball^ 
Gods! to what meannefs may the fpirit fall? 

Powers 



J5« LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Powers that fhould fpread in Reafon's orient rav. 
How are they darken "d, and debarr'd the day ! 

When late, where Tajo rolls his ancient tide, 
Reflefting clear the Mountain's purple fide. 
Thy genius, Craufurd, Britain's legions led. 
And Fear's chill cloud forfook each brightning head. 
By nature brave, and generous as thou art. 
Say did not human follies vex thy heart ? 
Glow'd not thy breaft indignant, when you faw 
The dome of Murder confecrate by Law ? 
Where fiends, commiffion'd with the legal rod. 
In pure devotion, burn the works of God. 

O change me, powers of Nature, if ye can. 
Transform me, make me any thing but man. 
Yet why ? This heart all human kind forgives. 
While G I L L M A N loves me, and while C r a u f u rd lives. 
Is Nature, all benevolent, to blame. 
That half her offspring are their mother's fhame ? 
Did Ihe ordain o'er this fair fcene of things 
The cruelty of Priefts, or pride of Kings ? 
Though worlds lie murder'd for their wealth or fame. 
Is Nature all-benevolent to blame ? 

«* Yet furely once, my friend, fhe feem'd to err; 
*' For W — ch — t was" - He was not made by her. 
Sure, form'd of clay that Nature held in fcorn. 
By fiends conftrufted, and in darknefs bom, 
Rofe the low wretch, who, defpicably vile. 
Would fell his Country for a Courtier's fmile ; 

Would 



ENLARGMENT OF THE MIND. ,59 

Would give up all to truth or freedom dear. 
To dine with **** or fome ideot pser, 
Whofe mean malevolence, in dark difguife 
The man that never injur'd him belies, 
"Whofe adlions bad and good two motives guide. 
The Serpent's malice, and the Coxcomb's pride. 
*' Is there a wretch fo mean, fo bafe, fo low ? " 
I know there is — alk W — ch— t if he know. 

O that the world were emptied of it's flaves! 
That all the fools were gone, and all the knaves! 
Then might we, Craufurd, with delight embrace. 
In boundlefs love, the reft of human race. 

But let not knaves mifanthropy create. 
Nor feed the gall of univerfal hate. 
Wherever Genius, Truth, and Virtue dwell, 
Polifh'd in courts, or fimple in a cell. 
All views of- country, feds, and creeds apart, 
Thefe, thefe I love, and hold them to my heart. 

Vain of our beauteous Ille, and juftly vain. 
For freedom here, and health, and plenty reign. 
We different lots contemptuouQy compare. 
And boaft, like children, of a Fav'rite's fhare. 

Yet though each vale a deeper verdure yields 
Than Arno's banks, or Andalufia's fields. 
Though many a tree crown'd mountain teems with ore. 
Though flocks innumerous whiten every fhore. 
Why fhould we, thus with nature's wealth elate. 
Behold her difFererit families with hate ? 

Look 



s6o LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Look on her works — on every page you'll find 
Infcrib'd the doftrine of the fecial mind. 

See countlefs worlds of infeft being fhare 
Th' unenvicd regions of the liberal air ! 
In the fame grove what mufic void of ftrife ! 
Heirs of one ftream what tribes of fcaly life! 
See Earth, and Air, and Fire, and Flood combine 
Of general good to aid the great defign ! 

Where An con drags o'er Li ncoln's lurid plain. 
Like a flow fnake, his dirty-winding train, 
"Where fogs eternal blot the face of day. 
And the loll Bittern moans his gloomy way ; 
As well we might, for unpropitious Ikies, 
The blamelefs native with his clime defpife. 
As him who ftill the poorer lot partakes 
Of Biscay V mountains, or Batavia's lakes. 

Yet look once more on Nature's various plan ! 
Behold, and love her noblefl: creature man! 
She, never partial, on each various zone, 
Beftow'd fome portion, to the reft unknown. 
By mutual intereft meaning thence to bind 
In one vaft chain the commerce of mankind. 

Behold, ye vain difturbers of an hour! 
Ye Dupes of Faftion! and ye Tools of Power! 
Poor rioters on Life's contraded ftage! 
Behold, and lofeyour littlenefs of rage ! 
Throw Envy, Folly, Prejudice, behind! 
And yield to Truth the empire of the mind. 



Im- 



ENLARGEMENT OF THE MIND. i6i 

Immortal Truth ! O from thy radiant fhrine. 
Where Light created firft effay'd to (hine ; 
Where cluft'ring Stars eternal beams difplay. 
And Gems ethereal drink, the golden day; 
To chafe this moral, clear this fenfual night, 
O filed one ray of thy celeftial light ! 
Teach us, while wandering through this vale below 
We know but little, that we little kaow. 
One beam to mole-ey'd Prejudice convey. 
Let Pride perceive one mortifying ray j 
Thy glafs to Fools, to Infidels apply. 
And all the dimnefs of the mental eye. 

Plac'd on this fhore of dime's far-ftretcing bourn. 
With leave to look at Nature and return; 
While wave on wave impels the human tide. 
And ages fink, forgotten as they glide; 
Can Life's fliort duties better be difcharg'd. 
Than when we leave it with a mind enlarg'd ? 

Judg'd not the old Philofopher aright. 
When thus he preach'd, his pupils in his fight ? 
** It matters not, my friends, how low or high. 
Your little walk of tranfient life may lie ; 
Soon will the reign of Hope and Fear be o'er. 
And warring paffions militate no more : 
And truft me, he who, having once furvey'd 
The good and fair which Nature's wifdom made. 
The fooneft to his former ftace retires. 
And feels the peace of fatisfied defires. 

Vol. LXXI. M L?t 



i«» LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

(Let others deem more wifely if they can) 
I look on him to be the happieft man." 

So thought the facred Sage, in whom I truft, 
Becaufe I feel his fentiments are juft. 
'Twas not in Luftrums of long counted years 
That fweird th' alternate reign of hopes and fears ; 
Not in the fplendid fcenes of pain and ftrife. 
That Wifdom plac'd the dignity of life ; 
To ftudy Nature was the ta(k defign'd. 
And learn from her th' enlargement of the mind. 
Learn from her works whatever Truth admires. 
And fleep in Death with fatisfied defires. 



THE 



[ ^63 ] 

THE ENLARGEMENT OF THE MIND. 

E P I S T I E II. 

TO V/ILLIAM LANGHORNE, M. A. 
1760. 

T IGHT HEARD HIS VOICE, and, eager to 

-•L-/ obey. 

From all her orient fountains burfi: away. 

At Nature's birth, O ! had the power divine 
Commanded thus the moral fun to (bine, 
Beam'd on the mind all reafon's influence bright. 
And the full day of intellcBual light. 
Then the free foul, on Truth's ftrong pinion born. 
Had never languifh'd in this Ihade forlorn. 

Yet thus imperfeft form'd, thus blind and vain, 
Doom'd by long toil a glimpfe of truth to gain ; 
Beyond its fphere fliall human wifdom go. 
And boldly cenfure what it cannot know? 
'Tis our's to cherKh what Heav'n deign'd to give. 
And thankful for the gift of Being live. 

Progreffive powers, and faculties that rife 
From earth's low vale, to grafp the golden Ikies, 
Though diftant far from perfeft, good, or fair. 
Claim the due thought, and alk the grateful care. 

Come, then, thou partner of my life and name. 
From one dear fource, whom Nature form'd the fame, 
M 2 Ally'd 



i6+ langhorne'S poems. 

Ally'd more nearly in each nobler part. 

And more the friend , than brother, of my heart ! 

Let us, unlike the lucid twins that rife 

At different times, and (hine in diftant Ikies, 

With mutual eye this mental world furvey, 

Mark the flow rife of intelleftual day,' 

View reafon's fource, if man the fource may find. 

And trace each Science that exalts the mind. 

** Thou felf-appointed Lord of all below! 
" Ambitious man, how little doft thou know? 
" For once let Fancy's towering thoughts fubfide j 
*' Look on thy birth, and mortify thy pride! 
" A plaintive wretch, fo blind, fo helplefs born, 
*' The brute fagacious might behold with fcorn. 
*' How foon, when Nature gives him to the day, 
** In ftrength exulting, does he bound away! 
*' By inftinft led, the foftering teat he finds, 
*• Sports in the ray, and (huns the fearching winds. 
•• No grief he knows, he feels no groundlefs fear, 
" Feeds without cries, and fleeps without a tear, 
•' Did he but know to reafon and compare, 
*' See here the vafTal, and the mailer there, 
*' What firange reflections muft the fcene afford, 
*' That fhew'd the weaknefs of his puling Lord!" 

Thus fophiftry unfolds her fpecious plan, 
Form'd not to humble, but depreciate man. 
Unjuft the cenfure, if unjuft to rate 
His pow"rs and merits from his infant-ftate. 



For 



ENLARGEMENT OF THE MIND. 163. 

For, grant the children of the flow'ry vale 
By inftincl vvifer, and of limbs more hale. 
With equal eye their perfedl ftate explore. 
And all the vain comparifon's no more. 

" But why Ihould life, fo (hort by Heav'n ordaln'd, 
*• Be long to thoughtlefs infancy reftrain'd — 
" To thoughtlefs infancy, or vainly fage, 
" Mourn through the languors of declining age ? 

O blind to truth! to Nature's wifdom blind! 
And all that (he direfts, or Heav'n defign'd ! 
Behold her works in cities, plains, and groves. 
All life that vegetates, and life that moves! 
In due proportion, as each being ftays 
In perfeft life, it rifes and decays. 

Is man long helplefs ? Through each tender hour. 
See love parental watch the blooming flow'r ! 
By op'ning charms, by beauties frefh difplay'd. 
And fvveets unfolding fee that love repaid ! 

Has age its pains ? For luxury it may — 
The temp'rate wear infenfibly away. 
While fage experience, and refledion clear 
Beam a gay funfhine on life's fading year. 

But fee from age, from infant weaknefs fee> 
That man was deftin'd for fociety ; 
There from thofe ills a fafe retreat behold. 
Which young might vanquifhi or afflict him old. 

M 3 '* That 



3C6 LANGHORNE'S POEMS, 

" That, in proportion as each Being ftays 

*' In perfeft life, it rifes and decays 

" Is Nature's law — to forms alone confin'd, 
♦* The laws of matter aft not on the Mi nd. 
** Too feebly, fure, its faculties muft grow, 
*' And reafon brings her borrow 'd light too flow," 

O ! 7?/// cenforious ? art thou then poffefs'd 
Of Reafon 's power, and does (he rule thy breaft? 
Say what the ufe— had Providence aflign'd 
To infant years maturity of mind ? 
That thy pert offspring, as their father wife. 
Might fcorn thy precepts, and thy pow'r defpife ? 
Or mourn, with ill-match'd faculties at ftrife. 
O'er limbs unequal to the taflc of life? 
To feel more fenfibly the woes that wait 
On every period, as on every ftate ; 
And flight, fad convifts of each painful truth. 
The happier trifles of unthinking youth ? 

Conclude we then the progrefs of the mind 
Ordain'd by wifdom infinitely kind : 
No innate knowledge on the foul impred. 
No birthright inftinft afting in the breaft, 
No natal light, no beams from Heav'ndifplay'd, 
Dart through the darknefs of the mental fliade. 
Perceptive powers we hold from Heaven's decree. 
Alike to knowledge as to virtue free. 
In both a liberal agency we bear. 
The moral hcK, the intelkaml there; 



And 



ENLARGEMENT OF THE MIND. lij 

And hence in both an equal joy is known. 
The confcious pleafure of an aft our own. 

When firft the trembling eye receives the day. 
External forms on young perception play; 
External forms afFeft the mind alone. 
Their difF'rent pow'rs and properties unknown. 
See the pleas'd infant court the flaming brand. 
Eager to grafp the glory in its hand ! " 
The crj-ftal wave as eager to pervade 
Stretch its fond arms to meet the fmiling (hade! 
When Memory's call the mimic words obey. 
And wing the thought that faulters on its way ; 
When wife Experience her flow verdift draws. 
The fure effeft exploring in the Caufe, 
In Nature's rude, but not unfruitful wild, 
RefleBion fprings, and Reafon is her child : 
On her fair fl:ock the blooming Scyon grows. 
And brighter tlirough revolving feafons blows. ' 

All beauteous flow'r! immortal flialt thou fliine> 
When dim with age yon golden orbs decline ; 
Thy orient bloom, unconfcious of decay. 
Shall fpread, and flourifli in eternal day, 

O! with what art, my friend, what early care^ 
Should wifdom cultivate a plant fo fair ! 
How fliould her eye the rip'ning mind revife. 
And blaft the buds of folly as they rife ! 
How fliould her hand with induftry reftrain. 
The thriving growth of paflion's fruitful train, 

M 4 Afpiring 



j6S LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Afpiring weeds, whofe lofty arms would tow'r 
With fatal fhade o'er reafon's tender flow'r. 

From low purfuits the dudile mind to fave. 
Creeds that contraft, and vices that enflave ; 
O'er life's rough feas its doubtful courfe to fleer, 
Unbroke byav'rice, bigotry, or fear! 
For this fair Science fpreads her light afar. 
And fills the bright urn of her eaftern ftar. 
The liberal power in no fequefter'd cells. 
No moonfhine-courts of dreaming fchoolmen dwells; 
Diftinguifh'd far her lofty temple ftands. 
Where the tall mountain looks o'er diftant landsj 
All round her throne the graceful arts appear. 
That boaft the empire of the eye or ear. 

See favour'd firft, and neareft to the throne 
By the rapt mien of mufing Silence known. 
Fled from herfelf, the Pow'r of Numbers plac'd. 
Her wild thoughts watch'd by Harmony and Tafte. 

There (but at diftance never meant to vie) 
The full-form'd image glancing on her eye. 
See lively Painting! on her various face. 
Quick-gliding forms a moment find a place; 
She looks, fte ads the character fhe gives. 
And a new feature in each feature lives. 

See Attic eafe in Sculpture's graceful air. 
Half loofe her robe, and half unbound her hair; 
To life, to life, Ihe fmiling feems to call. 
And down her fair hands negligently fall. 

Laft, 



m 



ENLARGEMENT OF THE MIND. 169 

Laft, but not meaneft, of the glorious choir. 
See Mufic, lift'ning to an angel's lyre. 

Simplicity, their beauteous handmaid, dreft 
By Nature, bears a field-flower on her breaft. 

O Arts divine! O magic Powers that move 
The fprings of truth, enlarging truth, and love! 
Loft in their charms each mean attachment ends. 
And Tafte and Knowledge thus are Virtue's friends. 

Thus nature deigns to fympathize with art. 
And leads the moral beauty to the heart; 
There, only there, that ftrong attraftion lies. 
Which wakes the foul, and bids her graces rife; • 
Lives in thofe powers of harmony that bind 
Congenial hearts, and ftretch from mind to mind : 
Glow'd in that warmth, that focial kindnefs gave. 
Which once — the reft is filence and the grave. 

O tears, that warm from wounded friendftiip flow ! 
O thoughts that wake to monuments of woe ! 
Refleftion keen, that points the painful dart ; 
Mem'ry, that fpeeds its paffage to the heart j 
Sad monitors, your cruel power fufpend. 
And hide, for ever hide, the buried friend : 
— In vain — confeft I fee my Craufurd ftand. 
And the pen falls— falls from my trembling hand. 
E'en Death's dim fhadow feeks to hide, in vain. 
That lib'ral afpe(5l, and that fraile humane; 

E'en 



170 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

E'en Death's dim fliadow wears a languid lightj 
And his eye beams through everlafting night. 

Till the laft figh of Genius (hall expire. 
His keen eye faded, and extinft his fire, 
'Till time, in league with Envy and with Death, 
Blaft the Ikill'd hand, and flop the tuneful breath. 
My Craufurd ftill fhall claim the mournful fong, 
So long remember "d, and bewail'd fo long. 



AN 



C 171 ] 



N O D 



THE RIVER EDEN*. 1759. 

"T^ELIGHTFUL Eden! parent ftrcam, 
^-^ Yet (hall the maids of Memory fay, 
(When, led by Fancy's fairy dream. 

My young fteps trac'd thy winding way) 
How oft along thy mazy fhore. 
That many a gloomy alder bore. 

In penfive thought their Poet ftray'd ; 
Or, carelefs thrown thy bank befide. 
Beheld thy dimply waters glide. 

Bright through the trembling (hade. 

Yet fliall they paint thofe fcenes again. 

Where once with infant-joy He play'd. 
And bending oer thy liquid plain. 

The azure worlds below furvey'd : 
Led by the rofy-handed Hours, 
When Time tripp'd o'er that bank of flowers. 

Which in thy chryftal bofom fmil'd : 
Though old the God, yet light and gay. 
He flung his glafs, his fcythe away. 

And feem'd himfelf a child. 



In the county of Weftmoieland, 



The 



17* LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

The poplar tall, that waving near 

Would whifper to thy murmurs free ; 
Yet ruftling feems to foothe mine ear. 

And trembles when I figh for thee. 
Yet feated on thy (helving brim. 
Can Fancy fee the Naiads trim 

Burnifh their green locks in the fun; 
Or at the laft lone hour of day. 
To chafe the lightly glancing fay. 

In airy circles run. 

But, Fancy, can thy mimic power 

Again thofe happy moments bring ? 
Can'ft thou reftore that golden hour. 

When young Joy wav'd his laughing wing? 
Wlien firft in Eden's rofy vale. 
My full heart pour'd the lover's tale. 

The vow fincere, devoid of guile! 
W^hile Delia in her panting breaft. 
With fighs, the tender thought fuppreft. 

And look'd as Angels fmile. 

O Goddefs of the cryftal bow. 

That dwell'ft the golden meads among; 
Whofe ftreams ftill fair in memory flow, 

Whofe murmurs melodife my Song! 
Oh! yet thofe gleams of joy difplay. 
Which brightening glow'd in Fancy's ray. 



When, 



ODE TO THE RIVER EDEN. 175 

When, near the lucid Urn reclin'd. 
The Dryad, Nature, bar'd her breaft. 
And left, in naked charms impreft. 

Her image on my mind. 

In vain — the maids of Memory fair 

No more in golden vifions play ; 
No friendfhip fmoothes the brow of Care, 

No Delia's fmile approves my lay. 
Yet, love and friendfhip loft to me, 
'Tis yet fome joy to think of Thee, 

And in thy breaft this moral find ; 
That life, though ftain'd with forrow's ftiowers. 
Shall flow ferene, while Virtue pours 

Her funfhine oij the mind. 



AU- 



[ n+ ] 

AUTUMNAL ELEGY, 

TO **** ******** j.g,^ 

"^T 7HILE yet my Poplar yields a doubtful (hade, 

' ' It's lafl; leaves trembling to the Zephyr's figh 
On this fair plain ere every verdure fade. 
Or the lafl: fmiles of golden Autumn die; 

Wilt thou, my *****, at this penfive hour. 
O'er Nature's ruin hear thy Friend complain ; 

While his heart labours with th' infpiring power. 
And from his pen fpontaneous flows the ftrain ? 

Thy gentle breaft fhall melt with kindred fighs» 
Yet haply grieving o'er a Parent's bier; 

Poets are Nature's children; when fhe dies, 
AfFeftion mourns, and Duty drops a tear. 

Why are ye filent. Brethren of the Grove, 
Fond Philomel, thy many-chorded lyre 

So fweetly tun'd to Tendernefs and Love, 
Shall Love no more, or Tendernefs infpire? 

O mix once more thy gentle lays with mine ; 

For well our pafTions, well our notes agree : 
An abfent love, fweet bird, may foften thine; 

An abfent love demands a tear from me. 

Yet, 



AUTUMNAL ELEGY. 175 

Yet, ere ye flumber, Songfters of the Sky, 

Through the long night of Winter wild and drear ; 

O let us tune, ere Love and Fancy die. 
One tender farewell to the fading year. 

Farewell ye wild Hills, fcatter'd o'er with fpring! 

Sweet folitude, where Flora fmil'd unfeen ! 
Farewell each breeze of balmv-burthen'd wing ! 

The Violet's blue bank, and the tall Wood green ! 

Ye tuneful Groves oi Bel-videre, adieu! 

Kind Shades that whifper o'er my Craufurd's 
reft! 
From Courts, from Senates and from Camps to you. 

When Fancy leads him, no inglorious gueft. 

Dear Shades adieu ! where late the moral Mufe, 
Led by the Dryad, Silence, oft reclin'd. 

Taught Mea?2ne/s to extend her little views. 
And look on Nature to enlarge her mind. 

Farewell the walk along the Woodland-vale! 

Flower-feeding rills in murmurs drawn away ! 
Farewell the fvveet breath of the early gale ! 

And the dear glories of the clofing day ! 

The namelefs charms of high, poetic thought. 

That Spring's green hours to Fancy's children bore; 

The words divine. Imagination wrote 

On Slumber's light leaf by the murmuring fhore — 



All. 



I7fi LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

AH, all adieu! From Autumn's fober power 

Fly the dear dreams of Spring's delightful reign; 

Gay Summer ftrips her rofy-mantled bower. 
And rude winds wafte the glories of her train. 

Yet Autumn yields her joys of humbler kind j 

Sad o'er her golden ruins as we "ftray. 
Sweet melancholy foothes the mufing mind. 

And nature charms, delightful in decay. 

All-bounteous power, whom happy worlds adore 
With every fcene fome grateful change (he brings — 

In Winter's wild fnows. Autumn's golden flore. 
In glowing Summers and in blooming Springs ! 

O moft belov'd.' the faireft and the beft 
Of all her works ! may ftill thy lover find 

Fair Nature's franknefs in thy gentle bread ; 
Like her be various, but like her be kind. 

Then, when the fpring of fmiling youth is o'er; 

When Summer's glories yield to Autumn's fway; 
When golden Autumn finks in Winter hoar. 

And life declining yields it's laft weak ray; 

In thy lov'd arms my fainting age fliall clofe. 
On thee my fond eye bend it's trembling light : 

Rememb'rance fwcet fhall foothe my laft repofe. 
And my foul blefs thee in eternal night. 



TO 



[ '77 J 

TO THE SAME. 1763. 



WHEN pale beneath the frowning (hade of 
Death, 
No foothing voice of Love, or Friendfhip nigh. 
While ftrong convulfions feiz'd the lab 'ring breath. 
And Life fufpended left each vacant eye; 

Where, in that moment, fled th' immortal mind? 

To what new region did the fpirit ftray ? 
Found it fome bofom hofpitably kind. 

Some breaft that took the wanderer in its way? 

To thee, my ***** in that deathful hour. 
To thy dear bofom it once more return'd ; 

And wrapt in *********'s folitary bower. 
The ruins of it's former manfion mourn 'd. 

But, did'ft thou, kind and gentle as thou art. 
O'er thy pale lover (hed the generous tear ? 

From thofe fweet eyes did Pity's foftnefs ftart. 
When Fancy laid him on the lowly bier ? 

Didft thou to Heaven addrefs the forceful prayer. 
Fold thy fair hands, and raife the mournful eye. 

Implore each power benevolent to fpare. 
And call down pity from the golden Iky ? 

Vol, LXXI. N O born 



J7« LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

O bom at once to blefs me and to fave. 

Exalt my life, and dignify my lay! 
Thou too fhalt triumph o'er the mouldering grave. 

And on thy brow Ihall bloom the deathlefs bay. 

Dear fhades of genius ! heirs of endlefs fame ! 

That in your laureate crowns the myrtle wove, 
Snatch'd from oblivion Beauty's facred name. 

And grew immortal in the arms of Love! 

O may we meet you in fome happier clime. 
Some fafer vale beneath a genial fky; 

Whence all the woes that load the wing of time, 
Difeafe, and death, and fear, and frailty fly! 



To 



[ »79 ] 

TO THE SAME. 

THE COMPLAINT OF HER RING-DOVE, 1769. 

T7AR from the fmiles of blue hefperian Ikies, 

■*• Far from thofe vales, where flowery pleafures 

dwell. 
{Dear fcenes of freedom lofl: to thefe fad eyes!) 
How hard to languifli in this lonely cell! 

When genial gales relume the fires of love. 

When laughing Spring leads round the jocund year; 

Ah! view with pity, gentle maid, your dove. 
From every heart-felt joy fecluded here! 

To me no more the laughing Spring looks gay ; 

Nor annual loves relume my languid breaft; 
Time flowly drags the long, delightlefs day. 

Through one dull fcene of folitary reft. 

Ah! what avails that dreaming fancy roves 
Through the wild beauties of her native reign ! 

Breathes in green fields, and feeds in frefhening groves. 
To wake to anguifh in this hopelefs chain ? 

Though fondly footh'd with Pity's tendereft care. 
Though flill by *****'s gentle hand careft. 

For the free foreft, and the boundlefs air. 
The rebel. Nature, murmurs in my breaft. 

N 2 Ah 



jSo LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Ah let not Nature, ***** plead in vain ? 

For kindnefsfure Ihould grace a form fo fair: 
Reftore me to my native wilds again. 

To the free foreft, and the boundlefs air. 



SONNET 



C iSi 3 

TO THE SAME. 
SONNET 

IN THE MANNER OF PETRARCH, 
176;. 

ON thy fair morn, O Hope-infpiring May ! 
The fweeteft twins that ever Nature bore. 
Where ********** vale her field-flower-garland 
wore. 
Young Love and Fancy met the genial Day. 
And, all a« on the thyme-green bank I lay, 

A Nymph of gentleft mien their train before. 
Came with a fmile; and Swain» fhe cried, no 
more 
To penfive forrow tune thy hopelefs lay. 

Friends of thy Heart, fee Love and Fancy bring 
Each joy that youth's enchanted bofom warms ! 

Delight that rifles all the fragrant fprlng! 
Fair-handed Hope, that paints unfading charms! 

And Dove-like Faith, that waves her filver 
wing. 
Thefe, Swain, are thine j for ***** meets thy arms. 



N3 TO 



C 182 3 



TO THE SAME. 



WRAPPED ROUND A NOSEGAY OF VIOLETS. 1761. 

"f~\EAR objeft of my late and early prayer! 
"^-' Source of my joy! and folace of my care! 
Whofe gentle friendfhip fuch a charm can give. 
As makes me wifh, and tells me how to live. 
To thee the Mufe with grateful hand would bring 
Thefe firft fair children of the doubtful Spring. 
O may they, fearlefs of a varying fky. 
Bloom on thy breaft, and fmile beneath thine eye! 
In fairer lights their vivid blue difplay. 
And fweeter breathe their little lives away! 



TO 



[ '83 3 



TO THE SAME. 

«N THE MORAL REFLECTIONS CONTAINED IN 
HER ANSWER TO THE ABOVE VERSES, 1761. 

Q W E ET moralift! whofe moving truths impart 
^ At once delight and anguifh to my heart! 
Though human joys their ftiort-liv'd fweets exhale 
Like the wan beauties of the wafted vale ; 
Yet truft the Mufe, fair friendfliip's flower fhall laf!. 
When life's fhort funfhine, like it's ftorms is paftj 
Bloom in the fields of fome ambrofial fhore. 
Where Time, and Death, and Sicknefs are no more. 



N 4 WRITTEN 



r ^H 3 



WRITTEN IN A COLLECTION OF MAPS. 

1765. 

T^ EALMS of this globe, that ever-circling run, 

-■■^ And rife alternate to embrace the fun ; 

Shall I with envy at my lot repine, 

Becaufe I boaft fo friiall a portion mine ? 

If e'er in thought oi Andalufia\ vines, 

Go/<:o«^.2's jewels, or Po/«/?'3 mines; 

In thefe, or thofe, if vanity forgot 

The humbler bleffings of my little lot ; 

Then may the ftream that murmurs near my door. 

The waving grove that loves it's mazy fhore. 

Withhold each foothing pleafure that they gave. 

No longer murmur, and no longer wave! 



THEO- 



[ ^85 ] 

THEODOSIUS TO CONSTANTIA. 
1760. 

LE T others feek the lying aids of art. 
And bribe the paffions to betray the heart ; 
Truth, facred Truth, and Faith unlkill'd to feign. 
Fill my fond breaft, and prompt my artlefs ftrain. 

Say, did thy lover, in fome happier hour. 
Each ardent thought, in wild profufion pour ; 
With eager fondnefs on thy beauty gaze. 
And talk with all the extafy of praife ? 
The heart fmcere it's pleafing tumult prov'd ; 
All, all declar'd that Theodosius lov'd. 

Let raptur'd Fancy on that moment dwell. 
When thy dear vows in trembling accents fell ; 
When Love acknowledg'd wak'd the tender figh, 
Swell'd thy full breaft, and fill'd thy melting eye, 

O ! bleft for ever be th' aufpicious day. 
Dance all it's hours in pleafure's golden. ray ! 
Pale forrovv's gloom from every eye depart! 
And laughing joy glide lightly through the heart! 
Let village-maids their feftive brows adorn. 
And with frefli garlands meet the fmiling morn; 
Each happy Swain, by faithful Love repaid. 
Pour his warm vows, and court his village maid. 



Yst 



i86 LANGHORNE'S POEMS, 

Yet fhall the fcene to ravifht memory rife : 
Conftantia prefent yet (hall meet thefe eyes ; 
On her fair arm her beauteous head reclin'd. 
Her locks flung carelefs to the fportful wind. 
While Love, and Fear, contending in her face, 
Flufli every rofe, and heighten every grace. 

O, never, while of Life and Hope pofTeft, 
May this dear Image quit my faithful breaft ! 
The painful hours of abfence to beguile. 
May thus Conftantia look, Conftantia fmilel 



ELEGY 



[ i87 ] 



ELEGY. 1760. 

THE eye of Nature never refts from care; 
She guards her children with a parent's lovej 
And not a mifchief reigns in earth or air. 
But Time deftroys, or remedies remove. 

In vain no ill (hall haunt the walks of life. 
No vice in vain the human heart deprave. 

The pois'nous flower, the tempeft's raging ftrife. 
From greater pain, from greater ruin fave. 

Lavinia, form'd with every powerful grace. 
With all that lights the flame of young deiire ; 

Pure eafe of wit, and elegance of face, 
A foul all Fancy, and an eye all fire. 

Lavinia! — Peace, my bufy, fluttering breafl! 

Nor fear to languifli in thy former pain : 
At length (he yields — (he yields the needful reft; 

And frees her lover from his galling chain. 

The golden ftar, that leads the radiant morn. 
Looks not fo fair, frefh-riflng from the main ; 

But her bent eye-brow bears forbidding fcorn, — 
But pride's fell furies every heart-ftring ftrain, 

Lavinia. thanks to thy ungentle mind; 

I now behold thee with indifferent eyes ; 
And Reafon dares, though Love as Death be blind. 

Thy gay, thy worthlefs being to defpife. 

Beauty 



188 LANGHORNE'S POEMS, 

Beauty may charm without one Inward grace. 

And fair proportions win the captive heart; 
But let rank pride the pleafing form debafe. 

And love difgufted breaks his erring dart. 

The youth that once the fculptur'd Nymph admir'd. 
Had look'd with fcornfnl laughter on her charms. 

If the vain form, with recent life infpir'd, i\ ( 

Had turn'd difdainful from his oiFer'd arms. } 

Go, thoughtlefs maid ! of tranfient beauty vain. 
Feed the high thought, the towering hope extend; 

Still may'ft thou dream of fplendor in thy train. 
And fmile fuperb, while love and flattery bend. 

For me, fweet peace fhall foothe my troubled mind. 

And eafy flumbers clofe my weary eyes ; 
Since Reafon dares, though Love as Death be blind. 

Thy gay, thy worthlefs being to defpife. 



INS CRIP- 



[ ^^ ] 



INSCRIPTION ON THE DOOR OF A 
STUDY. 

/^ THOU that {halt prefume to tread 
^^ This manfion of the mighty dead. 
Come with the free, untainted mind ; 
The nurfe, the pedant leave behind ; 
And all that fuperftition, fraught 
With folly's lore, thy youth has taught— 
Each thought that reafon can't retain, — 
Leave it, and learn to think again. 
Yet, while thy ftudious eyes explore. 
And range thefe various Volumes o'er, 
Truft blindly to no fav'rite pen, 
Remembring Authors are but men. 
Has fair Philosophy thy love? 
Away ! fhe lives in yonder grove. 
If the fweet Mufe thy pleafure gives; 
With her, in yonder grove fhe lives : 
And if Religion claims thy care; 
Religion, fled from books, is there. 
For firft from Nature's works we drev/ 
Our Knowledge, afid our Virtue too^ 



TO 



[ 19° ] 

TO LORD GRAN BY. 

T N fpite of all the rufty fools 

•*• That clean old nonfenfe in the fthools ; 

Nature, a miftrefs, never coy. 

Has wrote on all her works — Enjoy. 

Shall we, then, ftarve, like Gideon's wife. 

And die to fave a makeweight's life ? 

No, friend of Nature, you difdain, 

So fair a hand iliou'd work in viiin. 

But, good my Lord, make her your guide. 
And err not on the other fide : 
Like her, in all you deign to do. 
Be liberal, but be fparing too. 

When fly Sir Toby, night by night. 
With his dear bags regales his fight ; 
And confcience, reafon, pity fleep. 
Though virtue pine, though merit weep ; 
I fee the keen reproaches fly 
Indignant from your honeft eye ; 
Each bounteous wifli glows unconfin'd. 
And your breaft labours to be kind. 

At this warm hour, my Lord, beware 
The fervile Flatterer's fpecious fnare. 
The fawning Sycophant, whofe art 
Marks the kind motions of the heart; 



Each 



TO LORD GRANBY. 391 

Each idle, each infidious knave. 
That afts the graceful, wife, or brave. 

With feftive beard, and fecial eye. 
You've feen old Hospitality ; 
Mounted aftride the mofs-grown wall,' 
The genius of the ancient hall. 
So reverend, with fuch courtly glee. 
He ferv'd your noble anceftry; 
And turn'd the hinge of many a gate. 
For Ruflel, Rous, Plantagenet. 
No lying porter levied there 
His dues on all imported ware ; 
There, rang'd in rows, no liveried train 
E'erbegg'd their mailer's beef again; 
No flatterer's planetary face 
Plied for a bottle, or a place. 
Toad-eating France, and fiddling Rome 
Kept their lean rafcals ftarv'd at home. 

" Thrice happy days!" 

In this, 'tis true. 
Old times were better than the new ; 
Yet fome egregious faults you'll fee 
In ancient Hospitality. 
See motley crowds, his roof beneath. 
Put poor Society to Death ! 
Prietts, knights and "fquires debating wild. 
On themes unworthy of a ch'ld ; 
'Till the ftrange compliment commences. 
To praife their hoft, and lofe their fenfes, 

3 Go 



39» LANGHORNE'S POEMS 

Go then, my lord! keep open hall; 
Proclaim your table free for all ; 
Go, facrifice your time, your wealth. 
Your patience, liberty and health. 
To fuch a thought-renouncing crew. 
Such foes to care — ev'n care for you, 

" Heav'ns ! and are thefe the plagues that wait 
•' Around the hofpitable gate — 
** Let ten-fold iron bolt my door, 
*' And the gaunt maftifF growl before ; 
" There, not one human creature nigh, 
** Save, dear Sir Toby, you and I, 
" In Cynic filence let us dwell ; 
*♦ Ye plagues of focial life farewel !" 

Difpleafes this ? The modern way. 
Perhaps, may pleafe — a public day. 
'• A public day! detefted name! 
*' The farce of friendfhip and the {liame. 
" Did ever focial freedom come 
•* Within the pale of drawing-room ? 
*' Seepiftur'd round the formal crowd! 
*' How nice, how jufl: each attitude! 
*' My Lord approaches — what furprife ! 
" The pidures fpeak, the pit^lures rife! 
•* Thrice ten times told the fame falute, 
•* Once more the mimic forms are mute. 
*' Mean while the envious rows between, 
•' Diftruft and Scandal walk unfeen j 

" Their 



TOLORDGRANBY. rj? 

'' Their poifons filently infufe, 

" 'Till thefe fufpefl, and thofe abufe. 

" Far, far from thefe, in fome lone fliade, 
*' Let me, in eafy filence laid, 
*' Where never fools, or flaves intrude, 
" Enjoy thefweets of folitude!" 

What! quit the commerce of mankind! 
Leave virtue, fame, and worth behind ! 
W'ho fly to folitary reft. 
Are Reafon's favages at beft. 

Though human life's extenfive field 
Wild weeds, and vexing brambles yield; 
Behold her fmiling vallies bear 
Mellifluous fruits, and flowrets fair ! 
The crowds of folly you dcfpife— 
Aflbciate with the good and wife ; 
For virtue, rightly underllood. 
Is it to be vjife, and to be goad. 



Vot. LXXI. O MONODY. 



[ 194 3 



MONODY. 



759' 



AH fcenes belov'd! ah confcious fhades. 
That wave thefe parent-vales along ! 
Ye bowers where Fancy met the tuneful maids. 
Ye mountains vocal with my Doric fong. 
Teach your wild echoes to complain 
In fighs of folemn woe, in broken founds of pain. 

For her I mourn. 
Now the cold tenant of the thoughtlefs urn— 

For her bewail thefe drains of woe. 

For her thefe filial forrows flow; 
Source of my life, that led my tender years. 

With all a parent's pious fears. 
That nurs'd my infant thought, and taught my mind 
to grow. 

Careful, flie mark'd each dangerous way. 

Where youth's unwary footfteps ftray : 
She taught the flruggling paffions to fubfide; 

Where facred truth, and reafon guide. 
In virtue's glorious path to feek the realms of day» 

Lamented goodnefs ! yet I fee 
The fond afFedlions melting in her eye : 
She bends it's tearful orb on me. 
And heave the tender figh ; 

As 



MONODY. ,95 

As thoughtful, fhe the toils furveys. 
That crowd in life's perplexing maze. 
And for her children feels again 
All, all that love can fear, and all that fear can feign, 

O beft of parents ! let me pour 
My forrows o'er thy filent bed : 

There early ftrevv the vernal flower. 
The parting tear at evening fhed — 

Alas ! are thefe the only meed 

Of each kind thought, each virtuous deed, 
Thefe fruitlefs offerings that embalm the dead ? 

Then, fairy-feated Hope, forbear— 
No more thy fond illufions fpread : 
Thy {hadowy fcenes diflblv'd in air. 
Thy vifionary profpefts fled ; 
With her they fled, at whofe lamented fhrine. 

Love, gratitude, and duty mingled tears, 
Condemn'd each filial office to refign, 
Kor hopeful more to foothe her long-declining years* 



O2 TO 



[ '96 3 



TO MRS. 



IN TEARS, FOR THE DEATH OF A FRIEND. 
1762. 



QO feeble Nature weeps o'er friendfhip's grave, 
*^ And mourns the rigour of that law fhe gave : 
Yet, why not weep ? When in that grave expire 
All Pembroke's elegance, all Waldegrave's fire. 
No more thofe eyes in foft effulgence move. 
No more that bofom feels the fpark of love. 
O'er thofe pale cheeks the drooping graces mourn. 
And fancy tears her wild wreath o'er that urn. 
There Hope at Heaven once caft a doubtful eye^ 
Content repin'd, and Patience ftole a figh. 

Fair Friendfliip griev'd o'er 's facredbier. 

And Virtue wept, for **** dropt a tear. 



TO 



I ^97 ] 



TO MRS. G I L L M A N. 



"ITTITH fenfe enough for half your fex befide, 

' ^ With juft no more than neceflary pride ; 
With Knowledge caught from Nature's living page. 
Politely learn'd, and elegantly fage — 
Alas ! how piteous, that in fuch a mind 
So many foibles free reception find ! 
Can fuch a mind, ye Gods! admit difdain? 
^t partial, ennjiotis, co-uetom, and 'vain? 
Unwelcome Truth ! to love, to blindnefs clear ! 
Yet, GiLLMAN, hear it; — while you blufhtohear. 

That in your gentle breaft Di/dain can dwell. 
Let knavery, meannefs, pride that feel it, tell! 
With partial tye a friend's defedts you fee. 
And look with kindnefs on my faults and me. 
And does no Em^ that fair mind o'er-lhade ? 
Does no ^oxt Jlgh for greater nvealth invade i 
When filent merit wants the foftering meed. 
And the warm wifh fuggefts the virtuous deed ? 
Fairly the charge of Fatzitj you prove. 
Vain of each Virtue of the friends you love. 

What charms, what arts of Magic have confplr'd 
Of power to make fo many faults admir'd? 



O3 FRAG- 



i 198 ] 



FRAGMENT OF A POEM, 

WRITTEN AT CLARE-HALL ON THE KING's AC- 
CESSION. 1760. 

"t X7HILE every gale the voice of triumph brings. 
And fmiling Viftory waves her purple wings ; 
While earth and ocean yield their fubjeft powers, 
'Neptune his wa\'es and Cybele her towers ; 
Yet will you deign the Mufe's voice to hear. 
And let her welcome greet a Monarch's ear? 
Yes; midft the toils of glory ill-repaid. 
Oft has the Monarch fought her foothing aid. 
See Frederic court her in the rage of war. 
Though rapid vengeance urge his hoftile car: 
With her repos'd in philofophic reft. 
The Sage's funlhine fmooths the warrior's breaft. 

Whate'er Arcadian fancy feign'd of old 
Of I^lcyon days, and minutes plum'd with gold; 
Whate'er adorn'd the wifeft, gentleft reign. 
From you (he hopes — let not her hopes be vain! 
Rife ancient funs ! advance Pierian days ! 
Flow dttic ftreams! and fpring Aonian baj's ! 

Catn, 



FRAGMENT. 

Cam, down thy wave in brifker mazes glide. 
And fee new honours crown thy hoary fide ! 
Thy ofiers old fee myrtle groves fucceed! 
And the green laurel meet the waving reed! 



159 



O 4 C iE S A R'a 



[ 200 ] 

CiESAR's DREAM. 

BEFORE HIS INVASION OF BRITAIN, 

1758. 

WHEN rough Helvetia's hardy fons obey. 
And vanquifh'd Belgia bows to Csfar's fway ; 
When, fcarce-beheld, embattled nations fall. 
The fierce Sicambrian, and the faithlefs Gaul : 
Tir'd Freedom leads her favage fons no more. 
But flies, fubdued, to Albion's utmoft fhore. 

'Twas then, while ftlllnefs grafp'd the fleeping air. 
And dewy flumbers feal'd the eye of care; 
Divine Ambition to her votary came : 
Her left hand waving, bore the trump of fame; 
Her right a regal fceptre feem'd to hold. 
With gems far-blazing from the burnifh'd gold. 
And thus, " My Son,"' the Queen of Glory faid j 
*' Immortal Csefar, raife thy languid head. 
*' Shall Night's dull chains the man of counfels bind ? 
" Or Morpheus rule the monarch of mankind ? 
*' See worlds unvanquifh'd yet await thy fword! 
*' Barbaric lands, that fcorn a Latian lord! 
*' See yon proud ifle, whofe mountains meet the flcy, 
*' Thy foes encourage, and thy power defy! 
*f What, though by Nature's firmeft bars fecur'd, 
«' By feas encircled, and with rocks immur'd, 
" Shall Cffifar flirink the greateft toils to brave, 
f« Scale the high rock, or beat the maddening wave?" 

She 



CESAR'S DREAM. aoi 

She fpoke — her words the warrior's breaft inflame 
With rage indignant, and with confcious fhame j 
Already beat, the fwelling floods give way. 
And the fell Genii of the rocks obey. 
Already fliouts of triumph rend the fkies. 
And the thin rear of barbarous nations flies. 

Quick round their chief his aftive legions ftand. 
Dwell on his eye,and wait the waving hand ; 
The Hero rofe, majeftically flow. 
And look'd attention to the crowds below. 

* Romans and Friends ! is there who feeks for reft, 

* By labours vanquifli'd, and with wounds oppreft ? 

* That refpiteC^sAR fliall with pleafure yield, 
« Due to the toils of many a well-fought field. 

* Is there, who flirinks at thought of dangers paft, 

* The ragged mountain, or the pathlefs wafl;e— 

* While favage hofts, or favage floods oppofe, 

* Or fhivering fancy pines in Alpine fnows ? 

* Let him retire to Latium's peaceful fliore; 

* He once has toil'd, and C^sar afks no more, 

* Is there a Roman, whofe unfliaken breaft 

* No pains have conquer 'd, and no fears depreft ? 

* Who, doom'd through Death's dread minifters to go, 

* Dares to chafliife the infults of a foe ; 

* Let him, his Country's glory and her flay, 

* With reverence hear her, and with pride obey. 
« A form divine, in heavenly fplendor bright, 

« Whofe look threw radiance round the pall of night. 

With 



ao» LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

" With calm feverity approach'd and faid, 

" Wake thy dull ear, and lift thy languid head, 

*' What! fliall a Roman fink in foft repofe. 

*' And tamely fee the Britons aid his foes ? 

" See themfecure the rebel GWfupply; 

" Spurn his vain eagles and his power defy ? 

•' Go! burft their barriers, obftinately brave; 

** Scale the wild rock, and beat the maddening wave.' 

Here paus'd the Chief, but waited no reply. 
The voice aflenting fpoke from every eye ; 
Nor, as the kindnefs that reproach'd with fear. 
Were dangers dreadful, or were toils fevere. 



I N C R I P-= 



[ 203 ] 

INSCRIPTION 

I N A 

TEMPLE OF SOCIETY, 

SACRED rife thefe walls to thee. 
Blithe-eyed nymph. Society! 
In whofe dwelling, free and fair, 
Con^'erfe fmoothes the brow of care. 
Who, when waggifh wit betray'd 
To his arms a fylvan maid. 
All beneath a myrtle tree. 
In fome vale of ArCady, 
Sprung, I ween, from fuch embrace. 
The lovely contrail in her face. 

Perchance, the mufes as they ftray'd. 
Seeking other fpring, or fhade. 
On the fweet child caft an eye 
In fome vale of A ready ; 
And blitheft of the fifters three. 
Gave her to Euphrofyne. 

The Grace, delighted, taught her care 
The cordial fmile the placid air; 
How to chafe, and how reftrain 
All the fleet, ideal train ; 

» How 



20+ LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

How with apt words well combin'd. 

To drefs each image of the mind 

Taught her how they difagree, 

Aukward fear and mode%. 

And freedom and rufticity. 

True politenefs how to know 

From the fuperficial (hew ; 

From the Coxcomb's fhallow grace. 

And the many-modeli'd face: 

That Nature's unafFedled eafe 

More than ftudied forms would pleafe 

When to check the fportive veiaj 

When to fancy yield the rein. 

On the fubjeft when to be 

Grave or gay, referv'd or free : 

The fpeaking air, th' impaffion'd eye. 

The living foul of fymmetry ; 

And that foft fympathy which binds 

In magic chains congenial minds. 



] 



I 



INSCRIP. 



[ 205 ] 



INSCRIPTION 

I N A 

SEQJJESTERED GROTTO. 175 j. 

C WEE T peace, that lov'ft the filent hour. 

The ftill retreat of leifure free; 
Aflbciate of each gentle power. 
And eldeft born of harmony ! 

O, if thou own'ft this inofTycell, 

If thine this manfion of repofe ; 
Permit me, nymph, with thee to dwell. 

With thee my wakeful eye to clofe. 

And though thofe glittering fcenes (hould fade. 
That Pleafure's rofy train prepares ; 

What vot'ry have they not betray 'd ? 
What are they more than fplendid cares ? 

But fmiling days, exempt from care. 

But nights, when fleep, and filence reign; 

Serenity, with afpeft fair. 
And love and joy are in thy train. 



AN- 



[ 206 ] 

ANOTHER INSCRIPTION IN THE SAME 
GROTTO. 1756. 

£~\ Faireft of the village-born, 

^-^ Content, infpire my carelefs lay! 

Let no vain wifh, no thought forlorn 

Throw darknefs o'er the fmiling day. 
Forget'ft thou, when we wander'd o'er 
The fylvan Be/eau's * fedgy fhore. 

Or rang'd the woodland wilds along ; 
How oft on Herclaj'sf mountains high 
We've met the morning's purple eye, 

Delay'd by many a fong ? 
From thee, from thofe by fortune led; 

To all the farce of life confin'd ; 
At once each native pleafure fled. 

For thou, fvveet nymph, waft left behind. 
Yet could I once, once more furvey 
Thy comely form in mantle grey. 

Thy polilh'd brow, thy peaceful eye j 
Where e'er, forfaken fair, you dwell. 
Though in this dim fequefter'd cell. 

With thee I'd live and die. 

* A fmall river in Weftmorland. 
■}■ A romant'C village in the abovementioncd county, formerly th« 
feat of the Her clay s^ earls of Carliflc. 

LEFT 



[ 207 ] 

LEFT WITH THE MINISTER OF 
RIPONDEN, 

A ROMANTIC VILLAGE IN YORKSHIRE. I758. 

THRICE happy you, whoe'er you are. 
From Life's low cares fecluded far. 
In this fequefter'd vale — ! 
Ye rocks on precipices pil'd ! 
Ye ragged defarts, wafte and wild ! 
Delightful horrors hail ! 

What joy within thefe funlefs groves. 
Where lonely CoJitemplation roves. 

To reft in fearlefs eafe ! 
Save weeping rills, to fee no tear. 
Save dying gales, no figh to hear. 

No murmur, but the breeze. 

Say, would you change that peaceful cell 
Where San^ity and Silence dwell. 

For fplendor's dazzling blaze ? 
For all thofe gilded toys that glare 
Round high-born power's imperial chair. 

Inviting fools to gaze? 

Ah friend ! Ambition's profpefts clofe. 
And, ftudious of your own repofe. 

Be thankful here to live ; 
For, truft me, one protefting flied 
And nightly peace, and daily bread 

Is all that life can give. 



[ 208 ] 
WRITTEN AMONGST THE RUINS OF 

PONTEFRACT CASTLE. 1756. 

"D I G H T fung the bard, that all-involving age. 
With hand impartial deals the ruthlefs blowj 
That war, wide-wafting, with impetuous rage. 
Lays the tallfpire, and Iky-crown'd turret low, 

A pile ftupendous, once of fair renown. 
This mould'ring mafs of fhapelefs ruin rofe. 

Where nodding heights of fraftur'd columns frown. 
And birds obfcene in ivy-bow'rs repofe ; 

Oft the pale matron from the threatning wall, 
Sufpicious, bids her heedlefs children fly; 

Oft, as he views the meditated fall. 

Full fwiftly fteps the frighted peafant by. 

But more refpeftful views th' hiftoric fage, 

Mufing, thefe awful relics of decay. 
That once a refuge form'd from hoftile rage. 

In Henry's and in Edward's dubious day. 

He penfive oft reviews the mighty dead. 
That erft have trod this defolated ground; 

Reflefts how here unhappy Salisbury bled. 
When fadion aim'd the death-difpenfing wound. 



ELEGY. 299 

Reft, gentle Rivers! and ill-fated Gray! 

A flow'r or tear oft ftrews your humble grave. 
Whom Envy flew, to pave Ambition's way. 

And whom a Monarch wept in vain to fave» 

Ah ! what avail'd th' alliance of a throne? 

The pomp of titles what, or pow'r rever'd } 
Happier! to thefe the humble life unknown. 

With virtue honour'd, and by peace endear 'd. 

Had thus the fons of bleeding Britain thought. 
When haplefs here inglorious Richard lay. 

Yet many a prince, whofe blood full dearly bought 
The fhameful triumph of the long-fought day: 

Yet many a hero, whofe defeated hand 
In death refign'd the well-conteftcd field. 

Had in his offspring fav'd a finking land. 
The Tyrant's terror, and the Nation's fliield. 

Ill could the Mufe indignant grief forbear. 

Should Mem'ry trace her bleeding Country's woes ; 
111 could {he count, without a burfting tear, 
Th' inglorious triumphs of the vary'd Rofe! 

While York, v/ith conquefl: and revenge elate, 
Infulting, triumphs on St. Alban's plain. 

Who views, nor pities Henry's haplefs fate, 
Himfelf a captive, and his leaders flain ? 

Vol, LXXr. P Ah 



sio LANGHO'RNE'S fOEMS. 

Ah Prince! unequal to the toils of war. 
To ftem ambition, Faftion's rage to quell; 

Happier! from thefe had Fortune plac'd thee far. 
In fome lone convent, or fome peaceful cell. 

For whatavail'd that thy vidorious queen 
Repair'd tlie ruins of that dreadful day? 
That vanquifh'd York, on Wakefield's purple g.reen» 
Proftrate amidft the common flaughter lay .■ 

In vain fair Vift'ry beam'd the gladd'ning eye. 
And, waving oft her golden pinions, fmil'd; 

Full foon the flatt'ring goddefs meant to fly. 
Full rightly deem'd unfteady Fortune's child. 

Let Towton's field ^but ceafe the difmal tale z 

For much it's horrors would the mufe appall^ 

In fofter ftrains fuffice it to bewail 

The Patriot's exile, or the Heroe's fall. 

Thus filver Wharf *, whofe cryftal-fparkling urn 
Reflects the brilliance of his blooming fliore. 

Still, melancholy-mazing, feems to mourn. 
But rolls, confus'd, a crimfon wave no more, 

* A river near the fccne of battle, in which were flain 35rOO» 
men. 



FRAG- 



C 2fi 3 

FRAGMENT. 1762. 

^nnWAS on Time's birth-day, when the voice di- 

■■• vine 
Wak'd flceping Nature, while her infant eye, 
Yet trembling, ftruggled with created light ; 
The heaven-born Mufe, fprung from the fourcefublime 
Of Harmony immortal, firft receiv'd 
Her facred mandate. "Go, feraphic maid, 
*' Companion flill to Nature 1 from her works 
*' Derive thy lay melodious, great, like thofe* 
•' And elegantly fimple. In thy train, 
*' Glory, and deathlefs fame and fair renown 
** Attendant ever, each immortal name, 
** By thee deem'd facred, to yon ftarry vault 
*' Shall bear, and ftamp in charafters of gold, 
*' Be thine the care, alone where truth direfts 
*' The firm heart, where the love of human kLid 
** Inflames the patriot fpirit, there to foothe 
" The toils of virtue with melodious pralfe : 
" For thofe, that fmiling feraph bids thee wake 
*' His golden lyre ; for thofe, the young-ey'd fun 
•' Gilds this fair-formed world; and genial fpring 
'< Throws many a green wreath, liberal, from his 

bofom." 
So fpake the voice divine ; the raptur'd Mufe 
In ftrains like thefe, but nobler, fram'd her lay. 

P z Spirits 



eis LANGHORNE'S POEMS, 

Spirits of ancient time, to high renown 
By martial glory rais'd, and deeds auguft, 
Atchiev'd for Britain's freedom ! Patriot hearts. 
That, fearlefs of a tyrant's threatening arm, 
Embrac'd your bleeding country ! o'er the page. 
Where hiftory triumphs in your holy names. 
O'er the dim monuments that mark your graves. 
Why ftreams my eye with pleafure * ? 'Tis the joy 
The foft delight that through the full breaft flows. 
From fweet remembrance of departed virtue ! 

O Britain, parent of illuftrious names. 
While o'er thy annals Memory (boots her eye. 
How the heart glows, rapt with high-wondering love. 
And emulous efteem ! Hail, Sydney hail! 
Whether Arcadian blythe, by fountain clear. 
Piping thy love-lays wild, or Spartan bold. 
In freedom's van diftinguifb'd, Sydney, hail! 
Oft o'er thy laurell'd tomb from hands unfeen 
Fall flowers; oft in thy vale of Penlhurft fair 
Thelbepherd wandering from his nightly fold, 
Lifteneth ftrange mufic, by the tiny breath 
Of fairy minftrels warbled. 

On Raleigh's grave, O ftrew the fairefl flowers. 
That on the bofom of the green vale blow ! 
There hang your A-ernal wreatha, ye village-maids ! 

* Exultat 4.ninius Maximorum Virorum Memoriam percurrens, 

VaL' Max. 

Yc 



FRAGMENT. aij 

Ye mountain nymphs, your crowns of wild thyme 

bring 
To Ral eigh's honour 'd grave ! There bloom the bay. 
The virgin rofe, that, blufhing to be feen. 
Folds its fair leaves ; for modeft worth was his : 
A mind where truth, philofophy's firft born. 
Held her harmonious reign : a Briton's breaft. 
That, careful ftill of freedom's holy pledge, 
Difdain'd the mean arts of a tyrant's court, 
Difdain'd and died! Where was thy fpirit then. 
Queen of fea-crowning ifles, when Raleigh bled? 
How well he ferv'd thee, let Iberia tell! 
Afk proftrate Calcs, yet trembling at his name. 
How well he ferv'd thee; when her vanquifh'd hand 
Held forth the bafe bribe, how he fpurn'd it from him. 
And cried, I fight for Britain! Hiftory rife. 
And blaft the reigns that redden with the blood 
Of thofe that gave them glory! 



P3 TRANS- 



[ 2H ] 

TRANSLATIONS. 

TH E 

DEATH OF ADONIS. 
FROM THE GREEK OF BION*. 1759. 

ADONIS dead, the mufe of woe fhall mourn j 
Adonis dead, the weeping loves return. 
The queen of beauty o'er his tomb fhall fhed 
Her flowing forrows for Adonis dead ; 
For Earth's cold lap her velvet couch forego. 
And robes of purple for the weeds of woe. 
Adonis dead, the mufe of woe fhall mourn. 
Adonis dead, the weeping loves return. 

Stretch'd 

* Bion, thepaftoral poet, lived in the time of Ptolemy Phila* 

delphus. By the epithet r.wi'pvn'j'©-, every where applied to him, it 

is probable that he was born at Smyrna. Mofchus confirms this, 

when he fays to the river Meles, which had before wept for Homer, 

^— — — — Nuv waXiv aXXcv 

' T(£a ^axf y£K 

It is evident however that he fpentmuch of his time in Sicily. 
Mofchus, as he tells us, was his fcholar; and by him we are in- 
form'd, that his mafter was not a poor poet. " Thou haft left to 
others thy riches, fays he, but to me thy poetry." It appears from 
the fame author, that he died by poifon. The beft edition of his 
works, is that of Paris, by M. de Longue-Pierre, with a French 
tranflation. 

Av) oi^ IS dead, &C.'] Adonis, the favourite of Venus, wasthefon 
of Cynaras, king of Cyprus. His chief employment was hunting,, 
though he is reprefented by Virgil as a (hepherd. 
Ovcs ad Flumhia pavit Adonis, 

He 



DEATH OF ADONIS. a, 5 

Stretch'd on this mountain thy torn lover lies. 
Weep, Queen of beauty ! for he bleeds— he dies. 
Ah ! yet behold life's laft drops faintly flow. 
In ftreams of purple, o'er thofe limbs of fnowi 
From the pale cheek the perifh'd rofes fly ; 
And death dims flow the ghaftly gazing eye, 
Kifs, kifs thofe fading lips, ere chill'd in deathj 
With foothing fondnefs flay the fleeting breath. 
'Tis vain — ah! give the foothing fondnefs o'er! 
Adonis feels the warm falute no more. 

Adonis dead, the mufe of woe fliall mourn. 

Adonis dead, the weeping loves return. 

His faithful dogs bewail their mafter flain. 

And mourning Dryads pour the plaintive ftrain. 

Not 

He was killed by a wild bear, if we may believe Propcrtius, in 
Cyprus. 

PercuJJit Adonim 

Venantem IJalio •uertice durus Aper. 

The anniverfary of his death was celebrated through the whole 
Pagan world. Arillophanes, in his Comedy of Peace, reckons the 
feaft of Adonis among the chief feftivals of the Athenians. The 
Syrians obferved it with all the violence of grief, and the greateft 
cruelty of felf-caftigation. It was celebrated at Alexandria in St, 
Cyril's time; and when Julian, the Apoftate, made his entry at 
Antioch, in the year 361, they were celebrating the feaft of Adonis. 

The ancients differ greatly in their accounts of this di/inity, 
Athenaeus fays, that he was the favourite of Bacchus ; Plutarch main- 
tains, that he and Bacchus are the fame, and that the Jews abftain'd 
from fwine's flelli becaufe Adonis was killed by a boar. Aufonius, 
Epig'30. affirms that Bacchus, Ofiris, and Adonis are one and the 
fame. 

His faithful dogs, kz, — The queen of beauty, Scq.I The lines in 
the original run thus:: 

P 4 Ay}im 



»i6 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Not the fair youth alone the wound opprefl. 
The queen of beauty bears it in her breaft. 
Her feet unfandal'd, floating wild her hair. 
Her afpeft woeful, and her bofom bare, 
Diftreft, fhe wanders the wild waftes forlorn. 
Her facred limbs by ruthlefs brambles torn. 
Loud as fhe grieves, furrounding rocks complain. 
And echo thro' the long vales calls her abfent fwain. 
Adonis hears not : Life's laft drops fall flow. 
In ftreams of purple, down his limbs of fnow. 
The weeping Cupids round their queen deplore. 
And mourn her beauty, and her love no more. 
Each rival grace, that glow'd with ccnfcious pride. 
Each charm of Venus with Adonis dy'd. 
Adonis dead, the vocal hills bemoan. 
And hollow groves return the faddening groan. 

Ayfiov ay^iw £X:t(^ Ip^EJ xare jUn'pcv A'Jain;-, 

MEI^OV S'' O Ku&EpEItt ^E|5£( WSTIXop^eJ FXn®-. 

KeTvok jUEV Wept itaiita. <{>iXo« xwEj cufva-avT'), 
Kai N[;yt*<t)cti xXaias-iv opEiaJsf. 

The two firft of thefe lines contain a kind of witticifm, which it 

was better to avoid. This author had, however, too much true 

genius to be fond of thefe little affefted turns of expreflion, which 
Mufaeus and others have been induftrious to ftrike out. 

Thefe four verfes are tranfpofed in the tranflation for the fake of 
the connexion. 

DiJlreJiJJje ivanders, &-c.] This image of the forrow of Venus is 
very afFe<3ing, and is introduced in this place with great beauty and 
propriety. Indeed, moft modern poets feem to have obferved it, aad 
have profited by it in their fcenes of elegiac woe. 

The 



DEATH OF ADONIS. 217 

The fwelling floods with fea-born Venus weep, 

And roll in mournful murmurs to the deep : 

In melting tears the mountain-fprings comply j 

The flow'rs, low-drooping, blufli with grief ,■• and die, 

Cythera's groves with ftrains of forrow ring; 

The dirge funereal her fad cities fmg. 

Hark! pitying echoes Venus' fighs return; 

When Venus fighs, can aught forbear to mourn ? 

But when (he faw her fainting lover lie. 
The wide wound gaping on the withering thigh ; 
But dreaming when fhe faw Life's purple tide, 
Stretch'd her fair arms, with trembling voice fhe 
cry'd : 

The fivelling floods, &c.] When the poet makes the rivers moura 
for Venus, he very properly calls her Aego^ira ; but this propriety 
perhaps was merely accidental, as he has given her the fame appel- 
lation when Ihe wanders the defart. 

Thefloiu'rs, loiv-drooping, blu/Ij, Sec.'] 

Palenefs being the known effeft of grief, we do not at firft fight 
accept this expreffion ; but when we confider that the firft emotions 
of it are attended with bluflies, we are pleafed with the obfervation. 

Cythera^s groves, &c.] 

ITavTttcaNa x!j)«af xa: a'va wIsXiv oixigsv atioEi. 
This paffage the fcholiafts have entirely mifunderftood. They 
make ]f.v%',n Venus, for which they have neither any authority, the 
Doric name (he borrows from that ifland being always Ki,&£g£4a, nor 
the leaft probability from the connexion. 

This proves that the ifland Cythera was the place where Adonis 
perifh'd, notwithftanding the opinion of Propertius and otliers to the 
cpntrary. 

Yet 



«i3 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Yet (lay, lov'd youth! a moment ere we parr, 

O let me kifs thee! hold thee to my heart! 

A little moment, dear Adonis ! ftay! 

And kifs thy Venus, ere thofe lips are clay. 

Let thofe dear lips by mine once more be prefl, 

'Till thy laft breath expire into my bread; 

Then, when life's ebbing pulfe fcarce fcarce can move, 

I'll catch thy foul, and drink thy dying love. 

That laft-left pledge fhall footh my tortur'd bread. 

When thou art gone - 

When, far from me, thy gentle ghoft explores 
Infernal Pluto's grimly-glooming fhores. 

Wretch that I am! immortal and divine. 
In life imprifon'd whom the fates confine. 
He comes ! receive him to thine Iron-arms ; 
Bleft queen of death ! receive the prince of charms : 
For happier thou, to whofe wide realms repair 
Whatever lovely, and whatever fair. 
The fmiles of joy, the golden hours are fled : 
Grief, only grief, furvives Adonis dead. 

The loves around in Idle forrow ftand. 
And the dim torch falls from the vacant hand. 
Hence the vain zone! the myrtle's flow'ry pride! 
Delight and beauty with Adon is died. 

Why didft thou, vent'rous, the wild chace explore. 
From his dark lair to rouze the tuJky boar ? 
Far other fport might thofe fair limbs efTay, 
Than the rude combat, or the favage fray. 

Thus 



DEATH OF ADONIS. 219 

Thus Venus griev'd the Cupids round deplore ; 

And mourn her beauty, and her love no more. 
Now flowing tears in filent grief complain. 
Mix with the purple ftreams, and flood the plain. 
Yet not in vain thofe facred drops (hall flow. 
The purple ftreams in blufhing rofesglow: 
And catching life from ev'ry falling tear. 
Their azure heads anemonies (hall rear. 

But ceafe in vain to cherifla dire defpair. 
Nor mourn unpitied to the mountain-air. 
The laft fad office let thy hand fupply. 
Stretch the ftifF limbs, and clofe the glaring eye. 
That form repos'd beneath the bridal veft. 
May cheat thy forrows with the feint of reft. 
For lovely fmile thofe lips, though void of breath. 
And fair thofe features in the fliade of death. 
Hafte, fill with flow'rs, with rofy wreaths his bed j. 
Perifti the flow'rs ! the Prince of beauty's dead. 
Round the pale corfe each breathing eflfence ftrevv. 
Let weeping myrtles pour their balmy dew ; 
Periili the balms, unable to reftore 
Thofe vital fweets of love that charm no more I 

'Tis done Behold, with purple robes array'd. 

In mournful ftate the clay-cold limbs are laid. 
The Loves lament with all the rage of woe. 
Stamp on the dart, and break the ufelefs bow. 
Officious thefe the wat'ry urn fupply. 
Unbind the bufkin'd leg, and walh the bleeding thigh. 

O'er 



«o LANGHORNE'S POEMS; 

O'er the pale body thofe their light wings wave^ 
As yet, though vain, folicitous to fave. 

All, wild with grief, their haplefs Queen deplore. 
And mourn her beauty, and her love no more, 
Dejefted Hymen droops his head forlorn. 
His torch extindt, and flow'ry treffes torn : 
For nuptial airs, and fongs of joy, remain 
The fad, flow dirge, the forrow-breathing ftrain. 
Who wou'd not, when Adonis dies, deplore ? 
Who wou'd, not weep when Hymen fmiles no more ? 
The graces mourn the prince of beauty flain. 
Loud as Dione on her native main : 
The fates relenting join the general woe. 
And call the lover from the realms below. 
Vain hopelefs grief! can living founds pervade 
The dark, dead regions of eternal fhade ? 
Spare, Venus, fpare that too luxuriant tear 
For the long forrows of the mournful year. 

For the long. See.'] Numa feems to have borrow'd the cuftom he 
inftituted of mourning a year for the deceafed from the Greeks. For 
though it is faid only ten months were fet apart, yet ten months 
were the year of Romulus Jill regulated by his fucceffor. 



THE 



[ 221 3 



THE HAPPINESS OF A MODERATE FORTUNE 
AND MODERATE DESIRES. 

FROM THE FRENCH OF MR. CRESSET. 1760, 



OG O D D E S S of the golden mean. 
Whom ftill misjudging folly flies, 
Seduc'd by each delufive fcene ; 

Thy only fubjefts are the wife. 
Thefe feek thy paths with nobler aim. 
And trace them to the gates of Fame, 

See fofter'd in thy fav'ring fhade. 

Each tender bard of verfe divine I 
Who, lur'd by fortune's vain parade. 

Had never form'd the tuneful line ; 
By fortune lur'd or want confin'd, 
Whofe cold hand chills the genial mind. 

In vain you flight the flowery crown. 

That Fame wreathes round the favour'd head! 

Whilft laurell'd viftory and renown 
Their heroes from thy fliades have led ; 

There form'd, from courtly foftnefs free. 

By rigid virtue and by thee. 



B/ 



422 LANGHORNE'S POEMS, 

By thee were form'd, from cities far, 

Fabricius juft, Camillus wife, 
Thofe philofophic fons of war. 

That from imperial dignities 
Returning, ploughed their native plain. 
And plac'd their laurels in thy fane. 

Thrice happy he, on whofe calm bread 

The fmiles of peaceful wifdom play. 
With all thy fober charms pofleft, 

Whofe wilhes never learnt to ftray. 
Whom truth, of pleafures pure but grave. 
And penfive thoughts from folly fave. 

Far from the crowd's low-thoughted ftrife. 
From all that bounds fair freedom's aim. 

He envies not the pomp of life, 
A length of rent-roll, or of name : 

For fafe he views the vale-grown elm. 

While thunder-founding ftorms the mountain pine 
oerwhelm. 

Of cenfure's frown he feels no dread. 

No fear he knows of vulgar eyes, 
Whofe thought, to nobler objefls led. 

Far, far o'er their horizon flies : 
With reafon's fuffrage at his fide, 
Whofe firm heart refts felf-fatisfied, 

3 And 



HAPPINESS OF A MODERATE FORTUNE. 223 

And while alternate conqueft {ways 

The northern, or the fouthern fliore. 
He fmiles at Fortune's giddy maze. 

And calmly hears the wild ftorm roar. 
Ev'n Nature's groans, unmov'd with fear. 
And burfting worlds he'd calmly hear. 

Such are the faithful hearts you love, 

O Friendship fair, immortal maid; 
The few caprice could never move. 

The few whom interefi never fway'd ; 
Nor flied unfeen, with hate refin'd. 
The pale cares o'er the gloomy mind. 

Soft fleep, that lov'fl the peaceful cell. 

On thefe defcends thy balmy power ; 
While no terrific dreams difpell 

The flumbers of the fober hour; 
Which oft, array'd in darknefs drear. 
Wake the wild eye of pride to fear. 

Content with all a farm would yield. 
Thus Si don's monarch liv'd unknown. 

And figh'd to leave his little field. 
For the long glories of a throne 

There once more happy and more free. 

Than rank'd with Dido's anceftr}^ 

With thefe pacific virtues bleft, 

Thefe charms of philofophic eafe. 
Wrapt in your Richmond's tranquil reft. 

You pafs,dear C— — , your ufeful days. 

Where 



a24 LANGHORNE'S POEMS 

Where Thames your filent vallies laves 
Proud of his yet untainted waves. 

Should life's more public fcenes engage 
Your time that thus confiftent flows. 

And following ftill thefe maxims fage 
For ever brings the fame repofe ; 

Your worth may greater fame procure^ 

But hope not happinefs fo pure. 



TRANS- 



C "5 ] 



TRANSLATIONS FROM PETRARCH. 

SONNET CLXXIX. 
1765. 

THOUGH nobly born, to humble life refign'd ; 
The pureft heart, the moft enlighten 'd mind; 
A vernal flower that bears the fruits of age ! 
A chearful fpirit, with an afped fage, — 
The power that rules the planetary train 
To her has given, nor (hall his gifts be vain. 
But on her worth, her various praife to dwell. 
The truth, the merits ofherlifeto tell. 
The mufe herfelf would own the talk too hard. 
Too great the labour for the happiefl: bard. 
Drefs that derives from native beauty grace. 
And love that holds with honefty his place; 
Adion that fpeaks—and eyes whofe piercing ray 
Might kindle darknefs, or obfcure the day ! 
********* 



VoL.LXXI, CL SONNET 



i 226 ] 

SONNET CCLXXIX, 
176^ 

T7 A L L ' N the fair column, blafted is the bay, 
^ That fhaded once my folitary fhore ! 

I've loft what hope can never give me more. 
Though fought from Indus to the clofing day. 
My twofold treafure death has fnatch'd away. 

My pride, my pleafure left me to deplore ; 
What fields far-cultur'd, nor imperial fvvay. 

Nor orient gold, nor jewels can reftore. 
O deftiny fevere of human kind! 

What portion have we unbedew'd with tears ? 
The downcaft vifage, and the penfive mind 

Through the thin veil of fmiling life appears ; 
And in one moment vanifh into wind 

The hard-earn 'd fruits of long, laborious years. 



SONNET 



C "7 ] 



SONNET CCLVII. 
1765. 



WHERE is that face, vvhofe flighteft air could 
move 
My trembling heart, and ftrike the fprings of love ? 
That Heaven, where two fair ftars, with genial ray. 
Shed their kind influence on my life's dim way? 
Where are that fcience, fenfe and worth confeft. 
That fpeech by virtue, by the graces drefl: ? 
Where are thofe beauties, where thofe charms com- 

bin'd. 
That cans'd this long captivity of mind ? 
Where the dear fhade of all that once was fair. 
The fource, the folace of each amorous care ; 
My heart's fole fovereign, nature's only boaft ? 
Loft to the world J to me for ever loft! 



CL2 SONNET 



[ 228 ] 

SONNET CCXXXVIII. 
1761. 



^TT AI L'D the fweet warbler to the lonely (hade ; 
~ ' Trembled the green leaf to the fummer gale ; 
Fell the fair ftream in murmurs down the dale. 

It's banks, it's flowery banks with verdure fpread. 

Where, by the charm of penfive Fancy led. 
All as I fram'd the love-lamenting tale. 
Came the dearobjefl whom I ftill bewail. 

Came from the regioiib of the chearlefs dead; 
And why, flie cried, untimely wilt thou die ? 

A why, for pity, Ihall thofe mournful tears. 
Start in wild forrow from that languid eye ? 

Cherifli no more thofe vifionary fears. 
Forme, who range yon light-invefted flcy! 

For me, who triumph in eternal years ! 



TRANS, 



I 229 ] 



TRANSLATION FROM CATULLUS. 



LE S BI A, live to love and pleafure, 
Carelefs what the grave may fay ; 
When each moment is a treafure. 
Why Ihould lovers lofc a day ? 

Setting funs (hall rife in glory. 

But when little life is o'er. 
There's an end of all the ftory : 

We fhall fleep ; and wake no morCj 

Give me then a thoufand kiffes. 
Twice ten thoufand more beftow. 

Till the fum of boundlefs blifles 
Neither we, nor envy know. 



Q3 MONODY 



[ 230 3 



MONODY. 

SUNG BY A REDBREAST. 

'TpH E gentle pair that in thefe lonely fliades, 
•*■ Wandering, at eve or morn, I oft have feen. 
Now all in vain I feek at eve or morn, 
"With drooping wing, forlorn. 
Along the grove, along the daizied green. 
For them I've warbled many a fummer's day, 
'Till the light dews impearled all the plain. 
And the glad fhepherJ fhut his nightly fold; 
Stories of love, and high adventures old 
Were the dear fubjefts of my tuneful ftrain. 

Ah! where is now the hope of all my lay? 
Now they, perchance, that heard them all are dead ! 
With them the meed of melody is fled. 
And fled with them the liflening ear of praife. 
Vainly I dreamt, that when the wintry Gey 
Scattered the white flood on the wafted plain. 
When not one berry, not one leaf was nigh. 
To foothe keen hunger's pain, 
Vainly I dreamt my fongs might not be vain. 
That oft within the hofpitable hall 
Some fcatter'd fragment haply I might find. 
Some friendly crumb perchance for me delign'd, 

^Vhen 



MONODY. ajt 

When feen defpairing on the neighbouring wall. 

Deluded bird! thofe hopes are now no more! 

Dull time has blafted the departing year. 

And winter frowns fevere. 

Wrapping his wan limbs in his mantle hoar. 

Yet not within the hofpitable hall 

The chearful found of human voice I hear^ 

No piteous eye is near. 

To fee me drooping on the lonely wall. 



Q4 TO 



«3a 



LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 



TO A RED BREAST. 



T ITTLE bird, with bofom red, 
-'— ' Welcome to my humble (hed! 
Courtly domes of high degree 
Have no room for thee and me. 
Pride and pleafure's fickle throng 
Nothing mind an idle fong. 

Daily near my table fteal. 
While I pick my fcanty meal. 
Doubt not, little though there be. 
But I'll caft a crumb to thee j 
Well rewarded, if I fpy 
Pleafure in thy glancing eye ; 
See thee, when thou'ft eat thy fill. 
Plume thy breaft, and wipe thy bill. 

Come, my feather'd friend, again 
Well thou know'fl the broken pane. 
Aflc of me thy daily ftore : 
Go not near Avaro's door ; 
Once within his iron-hall. 
Woeful end Ihall thee befall. 

Savage! He would foon divefi: 

Of its rofy plumes thy breaft ; 

Then, with folitary joy. 

Eat thee, bones and all, my boy! 



AN 



H 



t 233 1 
AN ODE 

TO THE GENIUS OF WESTMORLAND, 

AIL hidden Power of thefe wild groves, 
Thefe uncouth rocks, and mountains grey ! 
Where oft, as fades the clofing day. 
The family of Fancy roves. 

In what lone cave, what facred cell, 
CozEval with the birth of time. 
Wrapt in high cares, and thought fublime. 

In awful filence doft thou dwell? 

Oft in the depth of winter's reign. 

As blew the bleak winds o'er the dale ; 

Moaning along the diftant gale. 
Has fancy heard thy voice complain. 

Oft in the dark wood's lonely way. 

Swift has fhe feen thee glancing by; 

Or down the fummer evening flcy. 
Sporting in clouds of gilded day. 

If caught from thee the facred fire. 

That glow'd within my youthful breaft ; 
Thofe thoughts too high to be expreft. 

Genius, if thou did 'ft once infpire ; 

O pleas 'd accept this votive lay. 

That in my native (hades retir'd, 

And once, once more by thee infpir'd. 
In gratitude I pay. 

H Y M.N 



C 234 ] 



HYMN TO PLUTUS. 



r> REAT God of wealth, before whofe facre;! 
^^ throne 

Truth, honour, genius, fame and worth lie prone ! 
To thy throng'd temples take one votary more ; 
To thee a Poet never kneel'd before. 

Adieu the gods that caught my early pra}-er ! 
Wifdom that frown 'd, and knowledge fraught with 

care! 
Friendfhip that every veering gale could move! 
And tantalizing hope, and faithlefs love ! 
Thefe, thefe are flaves that in thy livery fiiine! 
For wifdom, friendfhip, love himfelf is thine ! 

For thee I'll labour down the mine's dark way. 
And leave the confines of enlivening day; 
For thee Ajhria's fhining fands explore. 
And bear the fplendors of Potofi's ore; 
Scale the high rock, and tempt the raging fea. 
And think, and toil, and wi(h, and wake for thee. 

Farewell the fcenes that thoughtlefs youth could 
pleafe ; 
The flowery fcenes of Indolence and eafe." 
Where you the way with magic power beguile, 
BalTora's deeps, or Lybia's defarts fmile. 

Foes 



HYMNTOPLUTUS. 435 

Foes of thy worth, that, infolent and vain. 
Deride thy maxims, and rejefl thy reign. 
The frantic tribe of virtue (hall depart. 
And make no more their ravage in my heart. 
Away ♦' The tears that pity taught to flow .' " 
Away that anguifh for a brother's woe! 
Adieu to thefe, and every tirefome gueft. 
That drain'd my fortunes or deftroy'd my reft ! 

Ah, good AvARo! could I thee defpife ? 
Thee, good Avaro; provident and wife? 
Plutus, forgive the bitter things I've faid ! 
I love AvARo; poor Avaro's dead. 

Yet, yet I'm thine ; for fame's unerring tongue 
In thy footh'd ear thus pours her filver fong, 
" Immortal Plutus! God of golden eafe ! 
" Form'd every heart, and every eye to pleafe ! 
*' For thee content her downy carpet fpreads, 
*' And rofy pleafure fwells her genial beds. 
" 'Tis thine to gild the manfions of defpair; 
** And beam a glory round the brows of care. 
" To cheat the lazy pace of fleeplefs hours, 
** With marble fountains, and ambrofial bowers." 

O grant me, Plutus, fcenes like thofe I fung. 
My youthful lyre when vernal fancy ftrung. 
For me their fliades let other Studleys rear. 
Though each tree's water'd with a widow's tear! 

Detefted 



435 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Dctefted God !— -forgive me! I adore. 
Great Plutus, grant me one petition more. 
Should Delia, tender, generous, fair and free. 
Leave love and truth, and facrifice to thee, 
I charge thee, Plutus, be to Delia kind. 
And make her fortunes richer than her mind. 
Be hers the wealth all heaven's broad eye can view ; 
Grant her, good God, Don Philip and Peru. 



HYMN 



[ 237 1 



HYMN TO HUMANITY. 

I. 

P AR EN T of virtue, if thine ear 
^ Attend not now to Sorrow's cry; 
If now the pity-ftreaming tear 

Should haply on thy cheek be dry; 
Indulge my votive ftrain, O fweet Humanitt, 

II. 
Come, ever welcome to my breaft ! 
A tender, but a chearful gueft. 
Nor always in the gloomy cell 
Of life-confuming forrow dwell j 
For forrow, long-indulg'd and flow. 
Is to Humanity a foe ; 
And grief, that makes the heart its prey. 
Wears fenfibility away. 
Then comes, fweet nymph, inftead of theCf 
The gloomy fiend. Stupidity. 

ni. 

O may that fiend be baniflied far. 
Though paffions hold eternal war! 
Nor ever let me ceafe to know 
The pulfe that throbs at joy or woe* 
Nor let my vacant cheek be dry. 
When forrow fills a brother's eye^ 
Nor may the tear that frequent flows 
From private or from fecial woes. 



»3S LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

E'er make this pleafing fenfe depart. 
Ye Cares, O harden not my heart ! 

IV. 
If the fair ftar of fortune fmile. 
Let not its flattering power beguile. 
Nor, borne along the fav'ring tide. 
My full fails fwell with bloating pride. 
Let me from wealth but hope content. 
Remembering ftill it was but lent ; 
To modeft merit fpread my ftore. 
Unbar my hofpitable door ; 
Nor feed, for pomp, an idle train. 
While want unpitied pines in vain, 

V. 

If heaven, in every purpofe wife. 
The envied lot of wealth denies ; 
If doom'd to drag life's painful load 
Through poverty's uneven road. 
And, for the due bread of the day, 
Deftin'd to toil as well as pray; 
To thee, Humatity, ftill true, 
I'll wifh the good I cannot do ; 
And give the wretch, that pafTes by, 
A foothing word — a tear — a figh, 

VL 

Howe'er exalted, or depreft. 
Be ever mine the feeling breaft. 



From 



HYMN TO HUMANITY. 43) 

From me remove the ftagnant mind 
Of languid indolence, reclin'd ; 
The foul that one long fabbath keeps, 
And through the fun's whole circle fleeps ; 
Dull Peace, that dwells in Folly's eye. 
And felf-attending Vanity. 
Alike, the foolilh, and the vain 
Are ftrangers to the fenfe humane. 
VII. 
O for that Sympathetic glow 
Which taught the holy tear to flow. 
When the prophetic eye furvey'd 
Sion in future afhes laid 
Or, rais'd to heaven, implor'd the bread 
That thoufands in the defart fed ! 
Or, when the heart o"er friendfliip's grave 
Sigh'd ; — and forgot its power to fave— 
O for that f)mpathetic glow 
Which taught the holy tear to flow ! 

VIII. 
It comes : It fills my labouring breaft* 
I feel my beating heart oppreft. 
Oh! hear that lonely widow's wail! 
See her dim eye ! her afpeft pale! 
To heaven fhe turns in deep defpair. 
Her infants wonder at her prayer. 
And, mingling tears they know not why. 
Lift up their little hands, and cry. 
O God ! their moving forrows fee! 
Support them, fweet Humanity! 

IX. Life, 



440 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

IX. 

Life, fiird with grief's diftrefsful train. 
For ever a(ks the tear humane. 
Behold in yon unconfcious grove 
The vidlims of ill-fated love ! 
Heard you that agonizing throe ? 
Sure this is not romantic woe ! 
The golden day of joy is o'er j 

And now they part to meet no ir.orc. 

Aflift them, hearts from anguifh free! 
Affift them, fweet Humanity! 

X. 

Parent of virtue, if thine ear 

Attend not now to Sorrow's cry; 
If now the pity-ftreaming tear 

Should haply on thy cheek be dry. 
Indulge my votive ftrain, O fweet Humanity! 



EPISTLE 



C H^ 3 4 

PISTLE TO MR. 



17 R O M fcenes where fancy no excurfion tries. 
Nor trufts her wing to fmoke-invelop'd feies ; 
Far from the town's detefted haunts remov'd. 
And nought but thee deferted that I lov'd ; 
From noife and folly and the world got free. 
One truant thought yet only ftays for thee. 

What is that world which makes the heart its flave ? 
A reftlefs fea revolving wave on wave ; 
There rage the ftorms of each uncertain clime : 
There float the wrecks of fortune and of time : 
There hope's fmooth gales in foft fucceffion blow, 
"While difappointment hides the rock below. 
The fyren pleafures tune their fatal breath. 
And lull you to the long repofe of death. 

What is that world ? at 'tis no more 

Than the vext ocean while we walk the fliore. 
Loud roar the winds and fwell the wild waves highj. 
Lafli the rude beach, and frighten all the fky ; 
No longer (hall my little bark be rent. 
Since Ho/ie refign'd her anchor to Co7itent. 

Like fome poor fifher that, cfcap'd with life^ 
Will truft no more to elemental ftrife ; 
But fits in fafety on the green-bank fide. 
And lives upon the leavings of the tide; 
Like him contented you your friend fhall fee^ 
As fafe, as happy, and as poor as he, 

VoL.LXXI. R TO 



[ H^ ] 
T O ,. A LADY, 

ON READING AN ELEGY WRITTEN BY HER^ 

ON THF SEARCH OF HAPPINESS. 

fT^O feek the lovely nymph you fing 
•*• I've wander'd many a weary mile, 
Fiom grove to grove, from fpring to fpring; 
If here or there flie deign'd to fmile. 

Nay, what I now muft blufli to fay. 

For fure it hap'd in evil hour ; 
I once fo far miftook my way. 

To feek her in the haunts of Power* 

How fhould fuccefs my fearch betide. 
When ftill fo far I wander'd wrong ? 

For Happinefs on Arronxies fide. 
Was liftening to jVIaria's fong. 

Delighted thus with you- to ftay. 

What hope have I the nymph to fee^ 

Unlefs you ceafe your magic lay. 
Or bring her in your arms to me ? 



A MONODY, 



[ H3 ] 



♦' 



A MONODY, 

INSCRIBED TO MV WORTHY FRIEND J. S. 

BEING WRITTEN IN HIS GARDEN AT AMWELL, 
IN HERTFORDSHIRE, THE BEGINNING OF THE 
YEAR 1669. 



T? R I EN D of my Genius ! on whofe natal hour, 
■*■ Shone the fame Star, but fhone with brighter 
W ray; 

Oft as amidfl thy Am-ujell's fhades I ftray. 
And mark thy true tafte in each winding bower. 
From my full eye why falls the tender fhower? ■*■ 

While other thoughts than thefc fair Scenes convey. 
Bear on my trembling mind, and melt its powers 
away. 

11. 

Ah me! my friend! in happier hours I fpread 
Like thee, the wild walk o'er the varied plain ; 
The faireft tribes of Flora's painted train. 

Each bolder flirub that grac'd her genial bed. 

When old Sylvanusy by young wilhes led, 
, Stole to her Arms, of fuch fair offspring vain. 
That bore their mother's beauties on their head. 

R 2 III. Like 



141. LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

-r lu. 

Like thee, infpired by Love— 'twas Delia's charms,. 
'Twas Delia's tafte the new Creation gave : 
For her my Groves in plaintive fighs would wave,. 

And call her abfent to their mailer's arms. 

IV. 
She comes — Ye flowers your faireft blooms unfold! 
Ye waving Groves, your plaintive fighs forbear ! 
Breathe all your fragrance to the amorous air, 
S'e fmiling fhrubs whofe heads are cloath'd with 
gold! 



V. 

She comes, by truth, by fair affection led. 
The long-lov"d miftrefs of my faithful heart !' 
4 /The miftrefs of my foul, no more to part. 

And all my hopes, and all my vows are fped. 

Vain, vain delufions ! dreams for ever fled ! 

Ere twice the Spring had waked the genial hour^, 
The lovely parent bore one beauteous flower. 

And droop'd her gentle head. 

And funk, for ever funk, into her iUgiit Bed, 

VL 

Friend of my genius ! partner of my fate ? 

To equal fenfe of painful fuffcring born ! 

From whofe fond breaft a lovely parent torn.. 
Bedew 'd thy pale cheek with a tear fo late ; — 
Oh! let us mindful of the (hort, (hort date. 



4 



Thar 



A M O N O D Y. 845 

That bears the fpoil of human hopes away. 
Indulge fweet memory of each happier day ! 

No! clofe, for ever clofe the iron -gate 
Of cold oblivion on that dreary cell. 
Where the pale (hades of pad enjoyments dwell. 
And, pointing to their bleeding bofoms fay, 

•On life's difaftrous hour what varied woes await! 

VII. 

Let fcene^ of fofter, gentler kind. 

Awake to fancy's foothing call. 
And milder on the penfive mind. 

The ftiadowed thought of grief (hall fall. 
•Oft as the flowly-clofing day 

Draws her pale mantle from the devv-ftar's eye,, 

What time, the fnepherd's cry 
Leads from the paftured hills his flocks away. 
Attentive to the fender lay 
That fteals from Philomelas breafl:. 

Let us in mufing filence ftray. 

Where Lee beholds in mazes (low 

His uncomplaining waters flow, 
And all his whifpering (hores invite the charm of 

Xfift, 



WALLER 



I 246 ] 

IMITATIONS OF WALLER. 

WALLER TO ST. EVREMOND. 

O Vales of Pen/hurjl now fo long unfeen ! 
Forgot each fecure fnade, each winding green ; 
Thofe lonely paths what art have I to tread, 
"Where once young Love., the blind enthufiaO:, led? 
Yet if the Genius of your confcious groves 
His Sidney in xv^y SachariJJa loves ; 
Let him with pride her cruel power unfold ; 
By him rcy pains let Evremond be told. 

INSCRIPTIONS ON A BEECH TREE IN 
THE ISLAND OF SICILY. 

OWEET Land of Mufes! o'er whofe favoured 

*^ plains 

Ceres and Flora held alternate fway ; 

By 'Jo-oe refrefh'd wilh life-difFufing rains. 
By Phoebus bleft with every kinder ray ! 

O with what Pride do I thofe times furvey. 
When Freedom, by her riiftic minftrels led. 

Danced on the green lawn many a Summer's Day, 
While paftoral eafe reclin'd her carekfs head. 



IMITATIONS OF WALLER. 547 

In thefe foft fliades ; ere yet that Shepherd fled, 
Whofe mufic pierc'd Earth, Air, and Heaven and 
Hell, 

And called the ruthlefs tyrant of the dead 
From the dark flumbers of his iron cell. 

His ear unfolding caught the magic fpell : 

He felt the founds glide foftly through his heart; 

The founds that deign 'd of love's fweet power to tell; 
And as they told, would point his golden dart. 

Fix'd was the God ; nor power had he to part. 

For the fair daughter of the fheaf-crown'd queen. 
Fair without pride, and lovely without art, 
!*^ Gather'd her wild flowers on the daified green. 

He faw ; he figh'd ; and that unmelting brcaft. 
Which arms the hand of death, the power 01 Love con- 
fefs'd. 



R4 THE 



[ 248 ] 
THE DUCHESS OF MAZARIN. 

©N HER RETIRING INTO A CONVENT. 

YE holy cares that haunt thefe lonely cells, 
Thefe fcenes where falutary fadnefs dwells ; 
Ye fighs that minute the flow wafting day. 
Ye pale regrets that wear my life away ; 
O bid thefe pafTions for the world depart, 
Thefe wild defires, and vanities of heart. 
Hide every trace of vice, of follies paft. 
And yield to Heaven the viftory at laft. 

% # 

To that the poor remains of life are due, *^ 

'Tis Heaven that calls, and I the call purfue. 
Lord of my life, my future cares are thine^ 
My love, my duty greet thy holy fhrine : 
No more my heart to vainer hopes I give. 
But live for thee, whofe bounty bids me live. 

The power that gave thefe little charms their grace. 
His favours bounded, and confined their fpace. 
Spite of thofe charms (hall time, with rudeelTay, 
Tear from the cheek the tranfient rofe away. 
"But the free mind, ten-thoufand ages paft. 
Its Maker's form, fhall with its Maker laft. 

Uncertain objefts ftill our hopes employ ; 
Uncertain all that bears the name of Joy ! 

3 Of 



DUCHESS OF MAZARIN. 24.1 

Of all that feels the injuries of fate 
Uncertain is the feafch, and fhort the date. 
Yet ev'n that boon what thoufands wifh to gain ? 
That boon of death, the fad refource of pain I 

Once on my path all Fortune's glory fell. 
Her vain magnificence, and courtly fvvell ; 
Love touch'd my foul at leaft with foft defires. 
And vanity there fed her meteor fires. 
This truth at laft the mighty fcenes let fall. 
An hour of innocence was worth them all. 

Lord of my life! O, let thy facredray 
Shine o'er my heart, and break its clouds away! 
Deluding, flattering, faithlcfs world adieu ! 
Long haft thou taught me, God is only true I 
That God alone I truft, alone adore. 
No more deluded, and mifled no more. 

Come, facred hour, when wavering doubts fhtall 
ceafe ! 
Come hoi}' fcenes of long repofe and peace ! 
Yet fhall my heart, to other interefts true, 
A moment balance 'twixt the world and you ? 
Of penfive nights, of long-reflefling days. 
Be your&, at laft, the triumph and the praife ! 9 

Great, gracious mafter, whofe unbounded fway, 
•Felt through ten-thoufand worlds, thofe worlds obeyj 
Wilt thou for once thy awefu! glories fliade. 
And dei^n t' efpoefe the creature thou haft made ? 



«jo LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

All other ties indignant I difclaim, 
, Difhonour'd-.thofe, and infamous to name! 

O fatal ties, for which fuch tears I've ftied. 
For which the pleafures of the world lay dead! 
That worlds foft pleafures you alone difarm ; 
That world without you, ftill might have its charm. 
But now thofe fcenes of tempting hope I clofe. 
And feek the peaceful ftudies of repofe ; 
Look on the paft as time that ftole away. 
And beg the bleffings of a happier day. 

Ye gay falcons, ye golden-vefted halls. 
Scenes of high treats and heart-bewitching balls! 
Drefs, figure, fplendor, charms of play, farewell. 
And -all the toilet's fcience to excel ; 
Even love that ambufhed in this beauteous hair. 
No more fhall lie, like India}i archers, there. 
Go, erring love! for nobler objefts given ! 
Go, beauteous hair, a facrifice to Heaven ! ;^ 

Soon {hall the veil thefe glowing features hide. 
At once the period of their power and pride ! 
The haplefs lover fliall no more complain 
Of vows unheard, or unrewarded pain; 
I^While calmly fleep in each untortur'd bread 
My fecret forrow, and his fighs profeft. 

Go, flattering train! and, flaves to me no more 
With the fame fighs fome happier fair adore I 

YowrJ 



DUCHESS OF MAZARINE. aji 

Your alter'd faith, I blame not, nor bewail — > 
And haply yet, (what woman is not frail?) 
Yet, haply, might I calmer minutes proxe. 
If he that lov'd me knew no other love! 

Yet were that ardour, which his breaft infpir'd. 
By charms of more than mortal beauty fir'd ; 
What nobler pride ! could I to Heaven refign 
The zeal, the ferrice that I boafted mine ! 
O, change your falfe d^fires, ye flattering train! 
And love me pious, whom ye lov'd profane! 

Thefe long adieus with lovers doom'd to go. 
Or prove their merit, or my weaknefs fhew. 
But Heaven, to fuch foft frailties lefs fevere. 
May fpare the tribute of a female tear. 
May yield one tender moment to deplore 
Thofe gentle hearts that I mull hold no more^ 



^ 
% 



T H E 



[ 252 3 

THE V I C E R O Yj 

ADDRESSED TO THE 

EARL OF HALIFAX*. 

r FIRST PUBLISHED IN I762. 

TTI W A S on Time's birth-day, when the voice di« 

"*• vine 
Wak'd fieeping Nature, while her infant eye. 
Yet trembling, ftruggl'd with created lights 
The heaven-born Mufe, fprung from the fouTCC fubllme 

Of 

* Thf following Refolution cf the Irifli Houfe of Commons rt- 
fpeifling the Revenue of the Lord Lieutenant, and his Excelleacy's 
Speech in confequence thereof, will both illufl^te this Poem and 
: (hew the Occafion of it. 

Copyofa Resolu TioN o/" /Atf Irish Parl am en t, r^"- 
fpeiiing the Revenue of the .h oRD Lieutenant, 

Veneris, 26, Feb. 1762. 
*• Refolved, netnine contradlcente. That an addrefs he prefented 
to his Excellency the Lord Lieutenant, that he will reprefent to his 
Majelly the fenfe of this Houfe, that the entertainments and ap- 
pointments of the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland are become inadequate 
to the dignity of that high office, and to the expence with which it 
is, and ought to be fupported ; and that it is the humble defire of this 
Houfe, that his Majelty will be gracioufly pleafed to grant fuch ao 
augmentation to the entertainment of the Lord Lieutenant for thc^ 
jime being, as, with the prefent allowances, will in the whole^ 
amount to tlie annual fum ol Sixteen Thoufand Pounds. And ta 

exprefs 



THE VICEROY. 



253 



Jf Harmony immortal, firft receiv'd 
Her facred mandate. " Go, feraphic maid, 
" Companion ftill to Nature! from her works 

' Derive thy lay melodious, great, like thofe, 

« And 

• ?;prefs that fatisfaftion which we feel at the pleafing hope, that this 
]u\\ and neceffary augmentation fhould take place during the adltti- 
niftration of a Chief Governor, whofe many great and amiable qua- 
les, whofe wife and happy adminiftration in the government of 
s kingdom, have univer&lly endeared him to the people oflre- 
md." 

E. STERLING. 7,^, n r 
H. ALCOGK. ^^^^'^•^o'"'C<"»' 

Copy of the An swsjt. of ibe LovLD Lieutenant to the 
Address of the Housbof Commons, Feb. 27, 1762. 
«• I (hall take the firft opportunity of laying before his Majefly 
the fenfe of the Houfe of Commons contained in this Addrefs. I 
enter fully into the truly liberal motives which have influenced your 
condudl in this unanimous refolution. That you are folicitou. not 
»nly to fupport his Majefty's government, but to fupport it with be= 
coming grandeur and magnificence, refle<Ss the higheft honour on 
yourfelves; that you have chofen the time of my adminiftration ; that 
you have diftinguiftied my perfon as the objed of your favour, reflefts 
the higheft credit on me ; and I muft ever confider this event as one ^ 
of the moft fortunate and honourable circumftances of my life. What- ^ 
ever merit you afcribe to me in the government of this kingdom, 
in reality arifes from your own conduft, though your partiality 
would transfer it to mine. Your unanimity has firft created this 
merit, and your liberality would now reward it. 

♦• I am fenfible of the obligation you confer ; and I can in no way 
properly demonftrate my fenfe of it, but by being, as I am, unal- ■»' 
tcrably determined to implore his Majefty, that I may be permitted 
to enjoy it pure and unmixed with the lucrative advantages, whiclw »' 
you propofe fliowld attend it. This afF«ftionate addrefs is intendeds 



as+ LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

•♦ And elegantly fimpfc. In thy train, 

«' Glory, and' fair renown, and deathlefs fame 

*' Attendant ever, each immortal name, 

*' By theedeem'd facred, to yon ftarry vault 

•' Shall bear, and ftamp in charaders of gold. 

" Be thine the care, alone where truth direds 

*'. The firm heart, where the love of human kind 

** Inflames the patriot fpirit, there to foothe 

as an honour to me ; that intention has, on your part, been fully 
anfwered : to make it truly honourable, fomething is ftill neceffary 
on mine : It becomes mc to vie with the generofity of parliament, 
and to keep up an emulation of fentiment. It has been my duty, in 
the courfe of this feflion, to propofe large plans of public expcnce, 
and to promife an attention to public economy; and I could not 
without pain fubmit, that the eftablilhment, already burthened at 
my recommendation, (hould be ftill further charged for my own 
particular profit. ^^ 

♦» But while I confider myfelf at liberty to facrifice my private 
interefts to my private feelings, I muft confider myfelf as bound 
likewife to confulr, in compliance with your enlarged and liberal 
lentiments, the future fupport of the ftaiion in which I am placed, 
to the dignity of which the emoluments are, as you reprefent ther 
inadequate, I fhall tranfmit therefore the fenfe of the Houfe of 
Commons, that the augmentation which your generofity has pro- 
pofed, may, if his Majefty fliall think fit, be made the eftablifli- 
mentof my fucceffor, when he Ihall enter on the government of this 
kingdom; and v.hen it is probable the eircumftances of this country 
may be better able to fupport fuch additional burthen. But while 
1 muit decline accepting any part of the profits, I rejoice to charge 
myfelf with the whole of the obligation : Abundantly happy, if when 
1 fiiall hereafter be removed from this high, and, through your fa- 
vour, defirable fituation, I fi^ould leave it, through your liberality, 
^augmented in its emoluments, and by my inability not diminifhcd 
in itt reputation." 

" The 



THE VICEROY, 255 

«« The toils of virtue with melodious praife : 
*« For thofe, that fmiling feraph bids thee wake 
** His golden lyre ; for thofe, the young-ey'd Sun 
" Gilds this fair-formed world ; and genial fpring 
** Throws many a green wreath, liberal from his' 

" bofom." 
So fpake the voice divine, whofe laft fweet found 
Gave birth to Echo, tuneful nymph, that loves 
The Mufe's haunt, dim grove, or lonely dale. 
Or high wood old ; and, liftening while Ihe fings. 
Dwells in long rapture on each falling ftrain. 

O Halifax, an humble Mufe, that dwells 
In fcenes like thefe, a ftranger to the world. 
To thee a ftranger, late has learnt thy fame. 
Even in this vale of filence ; from the voice 
Of Echo learnt it, and, like her, delights. 
With thy lov'd name, to make thefe wild woods vocals 

Spirits of ancient time, to high renown 
Hey martial glory rais'd, and deeds auguft, 
Atchiev'd for Britain's freedom ! Patriot Iiearts, 
That, fearlefs of a tyrant's threatening arm, 
Embrac'd your bleeding cotifttry ! o'er the page. 
Where Hiftory triumphs in your holy names. 
O'er the dim monuments that mark your graves. 
Why ftreams my eye with pleafure ? 'Tis the joy 
The foft delight that through the full breaft flows. 
From fweet remembrance of departed virtue ! 

O Biitainj 



S56 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

O Britain, parent of iHuftrious names. 
While o'er thy annals memory fhoots her eye 
How the heart glows, rapt with high-wondering love. 
And lEmulous efteem! Hail, Sydney, hail ! 
Whether Arcadian biythe, by fountain clear. 
Piping thy love-lays wild, or Spartan bold. 
In freedom's van diftinguifli'd, Sydney, hail ! 
Oft o'er thy laurell'd tomb from hands unfeen 
Fall flowers ; oft in the vales of Pendiurft fair 
Menalca, ftepping from his evening fold, 
Lilteneth ftrange mufic, from the tiny breath 
Of fairy minftrels warbled, which of old. 
Dancing to thy fweet lays, they learned well. 

On Raleigh's grave, O ftrew thcfweeteft flowers. 
That on the bofom of the green vale blow ! 
There hang your vernal wreaths, ye village-maids ! 
Ye mountain nymphs, your crowns of wild thyme 

bring 
To Raleigh's honour'd grave! There bloom thebay,^^ 
The virgin rofe, that, blufliing to be feen, * 

Folds its fair leaves; for modeft worth was his; 
A mind where truth, philofophy's firft born. 
Held her harmonious reign : a Briton's breaft. 
That, careful ftill of freedom's holy pledge, 
DifJain'd the mean arts of a tyrant's court, 
Difdain'd and died I Where was thy fpirit then. 
Queen of fea-crowning ifles, when Raleigh bled ? 
How well he ferv'd thee, let Iberia tell ! 
Afc proflrate Calesy yet trembling at his name. 

How 



THE V I C E R O V. »Sr 

How well he ferv'd thee; when her vanquifla'd hand 
Held forth the bafe bribe, how he fpurnd it from him. 
And cried, I fight for Britain! Hiftory rife. 
And blaft the reigns that redden with the blood 
Of thofe that gave them glory ! Happier days. 
Gilt with a Brunswick's parent fmile, await 
The honour'd Viceroy. More aufpicious hours 
Shall Halifax behold, nor grieve to find 
A favour'd land ungrateful to his care. 

O for the Mufe of Milton, to record 
The honours of that day, when full conven'd 
Hibernia's fenate with one voice proclaim'd 
A nation's high applaufe; when, long opprcft 
With wealth-confuming war, their eager love 
Advanc'd the princely dignity's fupport. 
While Halifax prefided! O, belov'd 
By every mufe, grace of the polifh'd court. 
The peafant's guardian, then what pleafure felt 
Thy liberal bofom! not the low delight 
©t fortune's added gifts, greatly declin'd ; 
No ; 'twas the fupieme blifs that fills the breaftg 
Of confcious virtue, happy to behold 
Her cares fuccefsful in a nation's joy. 

But O, ye fiflers of the facred fpring. 
To fweeteft accents tune the polifh'd lay^ 
The mufic of perfuafion! You alone 
Can paint that eafy eloquence that flow'd 
In Attic ftreams, from Halifax that flow'd. 

Vol. LXXI. S When 



«58 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

When all lerne liften'd. Albion heard. 

And felt a parent's joy : no more, fhe cried. 

No more (hall Greece the man of Athens boaft, 

Whofe magic periods fmooth'd the liftening wavft 

Of rapt Ilyflus. Rome fhall claim no more 

The flowery path of eloquence alone 

To grace her ccnful's brow; for never fpokc 

Himeria's Viceroy words of fairer phrafe. 

Forgetful of Alpheus' haftening ftream. 

When Arethufa ftop'd her golden tide. 

And call'd her nymphs, and call'd her fhepheid fwains 

To leave their fwcet pipes filent. Silent lay 

Your pipes, Hibernian fhepherds. Liffey fmil'd. 

And on his foft hand lean'd his dimply cheek. 

Attentive: " Once fo Wharton fpoke," he cried, 

" Unhappy Wharton ! whofe young eloquence 

** Yet vibrates on mine ear." Whatever powersj^ 

Whatever genii old, of vale or grove 

The high inhabitants, all throng'd to hear- 

Sylvan us came, and from his temples grey 

His oaken chaplet flung, left haply leaf 

Or interpofmg bough fliould meet the found. 

And bar its foft approaches to his ear. 

Pan ceas"d to pipe— a moment ceas'd — for then 

Sufpicion grew, that Phoebus in difguife 

His ancient reign invaded : down he caft. 

In petulance, his reed ; but feiz'd it foon 

And fiird the woods with clangor. Meafures wild 

The wanton Satyrs danc'd, then liftening ftood. 

And 



T H E V I C E R O Y. 259 

And gaz'd with uncouth joy. 

But hark ! wild riots (hake the peaceful plain. 
The gathering tumult roars, and faftion opes 
Her blood-requefting eye. The frighted fwain 
Mourns o'er his wafted labours, and implores 
His country's guardian. Previous to his wifh 
That guardian's care he found. The tumult ceas'd. 
And faftion clos'd her blood-requefting eye. 

Be thefe thy honours, Halifax ! and thefe 
The liberal mufe, that never ftain'd her page 
With flattery, fliall record : from each low view. 
Each mean connexion free, her praife is fame. 
O, could her hand in future times obtain 
One humble garland from th' Aonian tree. 
With joy fhe'd bind it on thy favour'd head. 
And greet thy judging ear with fweeter ftrains ! 

Mean while purfue, in public virtue's path. 
The palm of glory : only there v.^'ill bloom 
Pierian laurels. Should'ft thou deviate thence, 
Peri(h the bloflbms of fair-folding fame! 
Ev'n this poor wreath, that now afFefts thy brow. 
Would lofe its little bloom, the mufe repine. 
And blufh that Halifax had ftole her praife. 



PRECEPTS 



( 26o ) 

PRECEPTS OF CONJUGAL HAPPINESS. 

ADDRESSED TO 

A LADY ON HER MARRIAGE. 

riRST PUBLISHED IN I767, 

r^ R I E N D, fifter, partner of that gentle heart. 

Where my foul lives, and holds her deareft part; 
While love's foft raptures thefe gay hours employ. 
And time puts on the yellow robe of joy. 
Will you, Maria, mark, with patient ear. 
The moral mufe, nor deem her fong fevere ? 

Through the long courfe of life's unclouded day, 
W^here fweet contentment fmiles on virtue's way j 
Where Fancy opes her ever-var}ing A'iews, 
And Hope ftrews flowers, and leads you as fhe ftrews; 
May each fair pleafure court thy favour'd breaft. 
By Truth protefted, and by love carefs'd ! 

So friendfhip vows, nor Ihall her vows be vain ; 
For everj' pleafure comes in virtue's train ; 
Each charm that tender fympathies impart. 
The glow of foul, the tranfports of the heart. 
Sweet meanings that in filent truth convey 
Mind into mind, and Heal the foul away, 

Thefc 



CONJUGAL HAPPINESS. »6i 

Thefe gifts, O virtue, thefe are all thy own ; 
Loft to the vicious, to the vain unknown! 

Yet bleft with thefe, and happier charms than thefe. 
By nature form'd, by genius taught to pleafe, 
Evn you, to prove that mortal gifts are vain, 
Muft yield your human facrifice to pain ; 
The wizard care Ihall dim thofe brilliant eyes. 
Smite the fair urns, and bid the waters rife. 

With mind unbroke that darker hour to bear. 
Nor, once his captive, drag the chains of care, 
Hope's radiant funfhine o'er the fcenc to pour. 
Nor future joys in prefent ills devour, 
Thefe arts your philofophic friend may (hew. 
Too well experienc'd in the fchool of woe. 

When finks the heart, by tranfient grief oppreft. 
Seek not refleftion, for it wounds the breaft. 
While memory turns, to happier objeds blind. 
Though once the friend, the traitor of the mind, 
Paft fcenes of pain is ftudious to explore. 
Forgets its joys, and thinks its fuff'rings o'er. 

To life's horizon forward turn your eye, 
Pafs the dim cloud, and view the bright'ning fky j 
On hope's kind wing more genial climes furvey, 
I^t fancy join, but reafon guide your way. 
For fancy, ftill to tender woes inclin'd. 
May foothe the heart, but mifdirefts the mind, 

S3 The 



s6a LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

The fource of half our anguifli, half our tears. 
Is the wrong conduft of our hopes and fears ; 
Like ill-train "d children, ftill their treatment fuch, 
Reilrain'd too ralhly, or indulg'd too much. 
Hence hope, projefting more than life can give. 
Would live with angels, or refufe to live ; 
Hence fpleen-ey'd fear, o'er-afting caution's part, 
.Betrays thofe fuccours reafon lends the heart. 

Yet thefe, fubmitted to fair truth's controul, 
Thefe tyrants are the fervants of the foul : 
Through vales of peace the dove-like hope fhalj ftray. 
And bear at Eve her olive branch away. 
In ev'ry fcene fome diftant charm defcry. 
And hold it forward to the bright'ning eye; 
While watchful fear, if fortitude maintain 
Her trembling fteps, fhall ward the diftant pain. 

Should erihig nature cafual faults difclofe. 
Wound not the breaft that harbours your repofe : 
For ev'ry grief that breaft from you fhall prove. 
Is one link broken in the chain of love. 
Soon, with their objeds, other woes are pad. 
But pains from thofe we love are pains that laft. 
Though faults or follies from reproach may fly. 
Yet in its fhade the tender paffions die. 

Love, like the flower that courts the fun's kind ray. 
Will flourifh only in the fmiles of day ; 

Diftruft's 



CONJUGAL HAPPINESS. »6j 

Diftruft's cold air the generous plant annoys. 
And one chill blight of dire contempt deftroys 
O (hun, my friend, avoid that dangerous coaft. 
Where peace expires, and fair afFeftion's loft; 
By wit, by grief, by anger urg'd, forbear 
The fpeech contemptuous, and the fcornful air. 

If heart-felt quiet, thoughts unmix'd with pain. 
While peace weaves flow'rs o'er Hymen's golden chains 
If tranquil days, if hours of fmiling eafe. 
The fenfe of pleafure, and the power to pleafe. 
If charms like thefe deferve your ferious care. 
Of one dark foe, one dangerous foe beware! 
Like Hecla's mountain, while his heart's in flame. 
His afpe<5l's cold, and Jealoufy's his name. 
His hideous birth his wild diforders prove. 
Begot by Hatred on defpairing Love! 
Her throes in rage the frantic mother bore^ 
And the fell fire with angry curies tore 
His fable hair— Diftruft beholding fmil'd. 
And lov'd her image in her future child. 
With cruel care, induftrious to impart 
Each painful fenfe, each foul-tormenting art. 
To doubt's dim (brine her haplefs charge fhe led. 
Where never fleep reliev'd the burning head. 
Where never grateful fancy footh'd fufpence. 
Or the dear charms of eafy confidence. 
Hence fears eternal, ever-reftlefs care. 
And all the dire affociates of defpair, 

S 4- Hence 



964 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Hence all the woes he found that peace deftroy. 
And dalh with pain the fparkling ftream of joy. 

When love's warm breaft, from rapture's trembling 
height. 
Falls to the temp'rate meafures of delight ; 
When calm delight to eafy friendfhip turns. 
Grieve not that Hymens torch more gently burns. 
Unerring nature, in each purpofe kind. 
Forbids long tranfports to ufurp the mind; 
For, oft dilTolv'd in joy's opprefTn e ray. 
Soon would the finer faculties decay. 

True tender love one even tenor keeps ; 
'Tis reafon's flame, and burns when paffion fleeps. 

The charm connubial, like a ftream that glides 
Through life's fair vale, with no unequal tides. 
With many a plant along its genial fide. 
With many a flower, that blows in beauteous pride. 
With many a fliade, where peace in rapturous reft 
Holds fweet affiance to her fearlefs breaft. 
Pure in its fource, and temp'rate in its way. 
Still flows the fame, nor finds its urn decay. 

O blifs beyond what lonely life can know. 
The foul-felt fympathy of joy and woe! 
That magic charm which makes ev'n forrow dear. 
And turns to pleafure the partaken tear ! 

Long 



CONJUGAL HAPPINESS. t6s 

Long, beauteous friend, to you may Heav'n impart 
The foft endearments of the focial heart ! 
Long to your lot may ev'ry bleffing flow. 
That fenfe, or tafte, or virtue can beftow ! 
And O, forgive the zeal your peace infpires. 
To teach that prudence which itfelf admires. 



VERSES 



[ 266 ] 
VERSES IN MEMORY OF A LADY*. 

WRITTEN at SANDGATE CASTLE, I768. 

♦« Nee lantum Ingenio, quantum fervlre DolorW' 

T E T Others boaft the falfe and faithlefs pride, 
-*-' No nuptial charm to know, or known, to hide. 
With vain difguife from nature's diftates part. 
For the poor triumph of a vacant heart; 
My verfe, the God of tender vows infpires. 
Dwells on my foul, and wakens all her fires. 

Dear, lilent partner of thofe happier hours. 
That pafs'd in Hackthorn's vales, in Blagdon's 

bowers ! 
If yet thy gentle fpirit wanders here. 
Borne by its virtues to no nobler fpherej 
If yet that pity which, of life poffeft, 
Fill'd thy fair eye, and lighten'd through thy breaftj 
If yet that tender thought, that generous care. 
The gloomy power of endlefs night may fpare; 
Oh ! while my foul for thee, for thee complains. 
Catch her warm fighs, and kifs her bleeding ftrains. 

Wild, wretched wifli ! can pray'r, with feeble breath. 
Pierce the pale ear, the ftatued ear of death ? 

* Wife of the author. She was daughtei ta Mr, Cracraft of Lin- 
c»ln(hirc. 

Let 



IN MEMORY OF A LADY. 267 

Let patience pray, let hope afpire to pray'r! 
And leave me the ftrong language of defpair ! 

Hence, ye vain painters of ingenious woe. 
Ye Lytteltons, ye fhining Petrarchs, go! 
I hate the languor of your lenient ftrain. 
Your flow'ry grief, your impotence of pain. 
Oh ! had ye known, what I have known, to prove 
The fearching flame, the agonies of love ! 
Oh! had ye known how fouls to fouls impart 
Their fire, or mix'd the life-drops of the heart! 
Not like the flreams that down the mountain's fide. 
Tunefully mourn, and fparkle as they glide ; 
Not like the breeze, that fighs at evening-hour 
On the foft bofom of forae folding flower; 
Your ftronger grief, in ftronger accents borne. 
Had footh'd the breaft with burning anguifli torn: 

The voice of feas, the winds that rouze the deep. 
Far-founding floods that tear the mountains fteep ; 
Each wild and melancholy blaft that raves 
Round thefe dim towers, and fmites the beating 

waves — 
This foothes my foul — 'tis nature's mournful breath, . 
'Tis nature ftruggling in the arms of death! — 

See, the laft aid of her expiring flate. 
See love, ev'n love, has lent his darts to fate * ! 

* The lady died in cliild-bed. 

Oh? 



s(S LANGHORNE'S POEMS. ^ 

Oh ! when beneath his golden Ihafts I bled, ^ 

And vainly bound his trophies on my head ; \? 

When, crown'd with flowers, he led the ro fy day, J^ 

Liv'd to my eye, and drew my foul away — 1 

Could fear, could fancy at that tender hour, ^ 
See the dim grave demand the nuptial flower ? 

There, there his wreaths dejetfied Kymen ftrew'd; 
And mourn 'd their bloom unfaded as he view'd. 
There each fair hope, each tendernefs of life. 
Each namelefs charm of foft obliging ftrife. 
Delight, love, fancy, pleafure, genius fled. 
And the beft pafiions of my foul lie dead; 
All, all is there in cold oblivion laid. 
But pale remembrance bending o'er a fhade, 

O come, ye fofter forrows, to my breafl! 
Ye lenient fighi, that flumber into refl:! 
Come, foothing dreams, your friendly pinions wave. 
We'll bear the frefh rofe to yon honour'd grave ; 
For once this pain, this frantic pain forego. 
And feel at laft the luxury of woe ! 

Ye holy fuflTrers, that in filence wait 
The laft fad refuge of relieving fate! 
That reft at eve beneath the cyprefs' gloom. 
And fleep familiar on your future tomb; 
With you I'll wafte the flow-departing day. 
And wear, with you, th' uncolour'd hours away. 

Oh! 



IN MEMORY OF A LADY. t6f 

Oh lead me to your cells, your lonely ailes. 
Where refignation folds her arms, and fmiles ; 
Where holy faith unwearied vigils keeps. 
And guards the urn where fair Constantia* fleeps 
There, let me there in fweet oblivion lie. 
And calmly feel the tutor "d paffions die. 



See Spedator, N" 164. 



THE 



L 270 ] 



THE ORIGIN OF THE VEIL. 

WARM from this heart while flows the faithful 
line. 
The mcaneft friend of beauty (hall be mine. 
What love, or fame, or fortune could beftow. 
The charm of praife, the eafe of life I owe 
To beauty prefent, or to beauty fled. 
To Hertford living, or Caernarvon dead. 
To Tweedale's tafte, to Edgecumbe's fenfc 

ferene. 
And, envy fpare this boail, to Britain's queen. 
Kind to the lay that all unlaboured flow'd. 
What fancy caught, where nature's pencil glow'd * ; 
She faw the path to new, though humble fame. 
Gave me her praife, and left me fools to blame. 

Strong in their weaknefs are each woman's charms. 
Dread that endears, and foftnefs that difarras; 
The timorous eye retiring from applaufe. 
And the mild air that fearfully withdraws, 
Marks of our power thefe humble graces prove. 
And, dafh'd with pride, we deeper drink of love. 

Chief of thofe charms that hold the heart in thrall. 
At thy fair ftirine, O Modesty, we fall. 



» The fables of Flora. 
4 



Not 



ORIGIN OF THE VEIL. ^^1 

Not Cynthia rifing o'er the watry way. 
When on the dim wave falls her friendly ray; 
Kot the pure aether of Eolian Ikies, 
That drinks the day's firft glories as they rife. 
Not all the tints from evening-clouds that break. 
Burn in the beauties of the virgin's cheek ; 
When o'er that cheek, undifciplined by art. 
The fweet fufFufion rufhes from the heart. 

Yet the foft blufli, untutored to controul. 
The glow that fpeaks the fufceptible foul. 
Led by nice honour and by decent pride. 
The voice of ancient virtue taught to hide ; 
Taught beauty's bloom the fearching eye to fhun. 
As early flowers blow fearful of the fun. 

Far as the long records of time we trace*. 
Still flowed the veil o'er modefty's fair face : 
The guard of beauty, in whofe friendly (hade. 
Safe from each eye the featured foul is laid,— 
The penfive thought that paler looks betray. 
The tender grief that fteals in tears away, 

* Plato mentions two provinces in Perjij, one of which wae 
called the Queen's Girdle, the other the Queen's Veil, the re- 
venues of which, no doubt, were employed in purchafing thofe 
parts of her Majefty's drefs. Ic was about the middle of the 
third century that the Eaftern women, on taking the vow of vir= 
ginity, affumed that veil which had before been worn by the 
Pagan Prieftcfles, and which is ufed by the religious among the 
Romanifts now. 

The 



«T* LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

The hopelefs wifii that prompts the frequent figh. 
Bleeds in the blufh, or melts upon the eye. 

The man of faith through Gerar doom'd to ftrav, 
A nation waiting his eventful way. 
His fortune's fair companion at his fide. 
The world his promife, providence his guide. 
Once, more than virtue dar'd to value life. 
And called a fifter whom he owned a wife. 
Miftaken father of the faithful race. 
Thy fears alone could purchafe thy difgrace, 
** Go," to the fair, when confcious of the tale. 
Said Gerars prince, " thy husband is thy 
Veil*." 

O ancient faith ! O virtue mourn 'd in vain! 
When Hymen's altar never held a ftain ; 
When his pure torch fhed undiminifhed rays. 
And fires unholy died beneath the blaze ! 

For faith like this fair Greece was early known. 
And claim'd the Veil's firft honours as her own. 

Ere half her fons, o'er Asia's trembling coaft, 
Arm'd to revenge one woman's virtue loft j 
Ere he, whom Circe fought to charm in vain, 
Follow'd wild fortune o'er the various main. 
In youth's gay bloom he plied th' exulting oar. 
From Ithaca's white rocks to Sparta's ftiore : 

* i^e is tTje 2IaiIeof t^ine Cpes to nU t'bat ate ti)it'& tl^ef, 
anC to all in^iX'p, Gsn, xx. i6. Ver. Trans. 

Free 



ORIGIN OF THE VEIL. 473 

Free to Nerician* gales the vefTel glides. 

And wild Eurotas + fmoothes his warrior-tides; 

For amorous Greece, when Love conduds the way. 

Beholds her waters, and her winds obey. 

No objeft her's but love's impreflion knows. 

No wave that wanders, and no breeze that blows ; 

Pier groves:}:, her mountains have his power confeft. 

And Zephyr figh'd not but for Flora's breaft. 

« 

'Twas when his fighs in fweeteft whifpers ftray'd. 
Far o'er Laconia's plains from Eva's ^ (hade; 
When foft-ey'd fpring refum'd his mantle gay. 
And lean'd luxurious on the breaft of May, 
Love's genial banners young Ulysses bore 
From Ithaca's white rocks to Sparta's fhore. 

With all that foothes the heart, that wins, or warms. 
All princely virtues, and all manly charms. 
All love can urge, or eloquence perfuade. 
The future heroe woo'd his Spartan maid. 

Yet long he woo'd In Sparta, flow to yield. 

Beauty, like valour, long maintained the field. 

*' No bloom fo fair Messene's banks difclofe; 
" No breath fo pure o'er Tempe's bofom blows; 
«' No fmile fo radiant throws the genial ray 
*' Through the fair eye-lids of the opening day ; 

From the mountain Neritos in IthaCa, now called Nerlcia. 
^ The Spartan river. 

J E mentre d'Alberghe Amore. Tasso. 

^ A mountain in Peloponnel'us. 

Vol. LXXI. T " But 



274- LANGHORNE'S POEMS 

*' But deaf to vows with fondeft paffion preft, 
*' Cold as the wave of Hebrus' wintry breall, 
** Penelope regards no lover's pain, 
*' And owns Ulysses eloquent in vain. 

" To vows that vainly wafte their warmth in air, 
*' Infidious hopes that lead but to defpair, 
** Affeftions loft, defires the heart muft rue, 
" And love, and Sparta's joylefs plains adieu! 

" Yet ftill this bofom Ihall one paiTion (hare, 
•' Still (hall my country find a father there. 
*' Ev'n now the children of my little reign 
*« Demand that father, of the fai chiefs main ; 
** Ev'n now, their prince folicitous to fave, 
*« Climb the tall cliff", and watch the changeful wave. 

** But not for him their hopes, or fears alone! 
*' They feek the promis'd partner of his throne; 
" For her their incenfe breathes, their altars blaze, 
*' For her to Heaven the fuppliant eye they raife. 
** Ah ! {hall they know their prince implor'd in vain ? 
*« Can my heart live beneath a nation's pain ?" 

There fpoke the virtue that her foul admir'd. 
The Spartan foul, with patriot ardour fir'd. 
*' Enough!" fhe cried — " be mine to boaft a part 
** In Him, who holds his country to his heart. 
" Worth, honour, faith, that fair aifeftion gives, 
*' And with that virtue, every virtue lives *." 



Omnes omnium Carita'.es, Sec. Cic. 

Pleas'd 



ORIGIN OF THE VEIL. 275 

Pleas'd that the nobler principles could move 
His daughter's heart, and foften it to love, 
Icarius ovvn'd the aufpices divine. 
Wove the fair crown*, and blefs'd the holy fhrine. 

But ah! the dj-eaded parting hour to brave! 
Then ftrong aiTeiflion griev'd for what it gave. 
Should he the comfort of his life's decline. 
His life's laft charm to Ithaca refign ? 
Or, wandering with her to a diftant fhore. 
Behold Eurotas' long-lov'd banks no more ? 
Expofe his grey hairs to an alien fky. 
Nor on his country's parent bofom die + ? 
*' No, Prince, he .cried; for Sparta's happier plain, 
*' Leave the lov'd honours of thy little reign, 

♦ The womsn of ancient Greece at the marriage ceremony 
wore garlands of flowers, probably as emblems of purity, fertility 
and beauty. Thus Euripides, 

— — — aW l/xm^ 
lo. i(.a.Ta.^i-\,a.T' kyti viv )?yov, tJj ya.iJi.ouy.ivr,'i . IpH. in Atrr.. 
The modern Greek ladies wear thefe garlands in various forms, 
whenever they appear drefled ; and frequently adorn themfelves 
thus for their own amufement, and when they do not expeft to 
be feen by any but their domeftics. 

Voyage Literaire de la Grece. 
\ The ancients efteemcd this one of the greateft misfortunes 
that could befall them. The Trojans thought it the mofl la- 
mentable circumftance attending the lofs of their pilot Pali- 
nurus, that his body fliould lie in a foreign country. 

•— — Igmtd Palinure jacebis Arera. ViRC 

T 2 The 



^76 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

*' The grateful change fhall equal honours bring ; 
" — Lord of himfelf, a Spartan is a king." 

When thus the prince, with obvious grief oppreft, 
** Canft thou not force the father from thy breaft? 
♦• Not without pain behold one child depart, 
** Yet bid me tear a nation from my heart ? 
** — Not for all Sparta's, all Eubcca's plains" — 
He faid, and to his courfers gave the reins. 

Still the fond fire purfues with fuppliant voice, 
'Till, mov'd, the monarch yields her to her choice, 
" Though mine by vows, by fair affedion mine, 
•' And holy truth, and aufpices divine, 
" This fuit let fair Penelope decide 
•' Remain the daughter, or proceed the bride." 

O'er the quick blufh her friendly mantle fell. 
And told him all that modefty could tell. 
No longer now the father's fondnefs drove 
With patriot virtue or acknowledg'd love. 
But on the fcene that parting fighs endear'd. 
Fair Modesty's* firft honour'd fane he rear'd. 

The daughter's form the pidur'd goddefs wore. 
The daughter's veil + before her blufhes bore, 

* Paufanias, who has recorded the ftory on which this little 
poera is founded, tells us that this was the firft temple erefl«d to 
Modefcy In Greece. 

+ See the veil of modefty in the Mujaum Capitolinuta, vol. 3, 
and for further proofs of its high antiquity, fee Horn. OdyU". 1.6. 

And 



ORIGIN OF TirE VEIL. 477 

And taught the maids of Greece this fovereign law — 
—She moft fhall conquer, who fliall moft withdraw. 



Claud. Ep1tI1.1I. Honor, where he fays, 

Et Cnr.tifejllna Hgat Pzvi-VMQjJtJluentem 
Alle-vat I 

Iphig. in Taur. aft. 4, and Colut. Rapt. Helen. 1. i. v. 381. 

where Hermione tears her gold embroidered veil on the difap- 

pcarance of Helen: 

» | ■— Aureum quoque rufit capit'n tegmen. 



T 3 THE 



( 278 ) 

THE COUNTRY JUSTICE: 
A POEM. 

IN THREE PARTS. 
PART I. 

TO RICHARD BURN, LL. D. 

ONE OF HIS majesty's JUSTICES OF THE PEACE 

for the counties of westmorland 
and cumberland. 

Dear Sir, 

A POEM written profefTedly at your requeft, 
naturally addreffes itfelf to you. The diftinclion 
you have acquired on the fubjeft, and your tafte for 
the arts, give that addrefs every kind of propriety. 
If I have any particular fatisfaftion in this publica- 
tion, befide what arifes from my compliance with 
your commands, it muft be in the idea of that tefti- 
mony it bears to our friendfhip. If you believe that 
I am more concerned for the duration of that than of 
the poem itfelf, you will not be raiftaken ; for I am. 
Dear Sir, 
Your truly affeclionate brother. 

And faithful humble Servant, 
^omerfetfiiire, 
April J5, 1744. 

THE AUTHOR. 



1 



[ 279 3 
THE COUNTRY JUSTICE. 

INTRODUCTION. 

T N Richard's days, when loft his paftiir'd plain, 
■*• The wand 'ring Briton fought the wild wood's 

reign. 
With great difdain beheld the feudal herd. 
Poor life-let vaillds of a Norman lord ; 
And, what no brave man ever loft, poffefs'd 
Himfelf, — for freedom bound him to her breaft. 

Lov'ft thou that freedom ? by her holy flirine. 
If yet one drop of Britifli blood be thine. 
See, I conjure thee, in the defart fhade. 
His bow unftrung, his little houfehold laid. 
Some brave forefather; vv'hile his fields they ihare,. 
By Saxon, Dane, or Norman banifli'd there ! 
And think he tells thee, as his foul withdraws. 
As his heart fwells againft a tyrant's laws. 
The war with fate though fruitlefs to maintain. 
To guard that liberty he lov'd in vain. 

Were thoughts like thefe the dream of ancient time ? 
Peculiar only to fome age, or clime ? 
And does not nature thoughts like thefe impart,. 
Breathe in the foul, and write upon the heart ? 

Aflc on their mountains yon deferted band. 
That point to Paoli with no plaufive hand ; 

T 4 Defpliing 



a?o LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Defpifing ftill, their freeborn fouls unbroke. 
Alike the Gallic and Ligiirian yoke ! 

Yet while the Patriot's gen'rous rage we (hare. 
Still ci'viljafety calls us back to care ; 
To Britain loft in either Henry's day. 
Her woods, her mountains one wild fcene of prey ! 
Fair peace from all her bounteous vallies fled. 
And law beneath the barbed arrow bled. 

In happier days, with more aufpicious fate. 
The far-fam'd Edward heal'd his wounded ftate ; 
Dread of his foes, but to his fubjefts dear, 
Thefe learn'd to love, as thofe are taught to fear. 
Their laurell'd Prince with Britifh pride obey> 
His glory ftione their difconteat away. 

With care the tender flow'r of love to fave. 
And plant the olive on Diforder*s grave. 
For civil ftorm^ frefh barriers to provide. 
He caught the fav'ring calm and falling tide. 

^he Appointment, and its Purpofes^ 

The focial laws from infult to proteft. 
To cherilh peace, to cultivate refpedl ; 
The rich from wanton cruelty reftrain. 
To fraooth the bed of penury and pain ; 
The haplefs vagrant to his reft reftore. 
The maze of fraud, the haunts of theft explore | 
The thoughtlefs maiden, when fubdu'd by art. 
To aid, and bring her rover to her heart ; 



Wild 



THE COUNTRY JUSTICE. 28* 

Wild riot's voice with dignity to quell. 
Forbid unpeaceful paffions to rebel, 
Wreft from revenge the meditated harm. 
For this fair Justice raifed her facred arm; 
P"or this the rural magiftrate, of yore. 
Thy honours, Edward, to his manfion bore. 

Antient Justice's Hall. 

Oft, where old Air in confcious glory fails. 
On filver waves that flow through fmiling vales ; 
In Harewood's groves, where long my youth was laid, 
Unfeen beneath their antient world of fhade ; 
With many a group of antique columns crown'd. 
In Gothic guife fuch manfion have I found. 

Nor lightly deem, ye apes of modern race. 
Ye Cits that fore bedizen nature's face. 
Of the more manly ftruftures here ye view ; 
They rofe for greatnefs that ye never knew ! 
Ye reptile Cits, that oft have mov'd my fpleen 
With Venus and the Graces on your green! 
Let Plutus, growling o'er his ill-got wealth. 
Let Mercury, the thriving God of ftealth. 
The fliopman, Janus, with his double looks. 
Rife on your mounts, and perch upon your books ! 
But, fpare my Venus, fpare each fifter grace. 
Ye Cits, that fore bedizen nature's face ! 

Ye royal archite(5ts, whofe antic tafte. 
Would lay the realms of fenfe and nature wafle ; 

Forgot 



28* LANGHORNE'S POEMS, 

Forgot, whenever from her fteps ye ftray. 
That folly only points each other way ; 
Here, though your eye no courtly creature fees. 
Snakes on the ground, or 7nonkies in the trees ; 
Yet let not too fevere a cenfure fall. 
On the pkin precinfts of the antient hall. 

For though no fight your childifh fancy meets. 
Of Thibet's dogs, or China's perroquets ; 
Though apes, afps, lizards, things without a tail. 
And all the tribes of foreign monfters fail j 
Here Ihall ye figh to fee, with ruft o'ergrown. 
The Iron griffin and the fphynx of ftone ; 
And mourn, negledted in their wafte abodes. 
Fire-breathing drakes, and water-fpouting gods. 

Long have thefe mighty monflers known difgrace. 
Yet ftill fome trophies hold their ancient place; 
Where, round the hall, the oak's high furbafe rears 
The field-day triumphs of two hundred years, 

Th' enormous antlers here recal the day 
That faw the foreft-monarch_/a/rW anx^ay ; 
Who, many a flood, and many a mountain paft> 
Nor finding thofe, nor deeming thefe the Ia(t, 
O'er floods, o'er mountains yet prepar'd to fly. 
Long ere the death-drop fiird his failing eye ! 

Here fam"d for cunning, and in crimes grown old. 
Hangs his grey brufli, the felon of the fold. 

Oft 



THE COUNTRY JUSTICE. 283 

Oft, as the rent-feaft fwells the midnight cheer. 
The maudlin farmer kens him o'er his beer. 
And tells his old, traditionary tale. 
Though known to ev'ry tenant of the vale. 

Here, where, of old, the feflal ox has fed, 
Mark'd with his weight, the mighty horns are fpread: 
Some ox, O Marshall, for a board like thine. 
Where the vaft mafier with the vaft Sir Loin 
Vied in round magnitude— Refpefl I bear 
To thee, though oft the ruin of the chair. 

Thefe, and fuch antique tokens, that record 
The manly fpirit, and the bounteous board. 
Me more delight than all the gew-gaw train. 
The whims and zigzags of a modern brain. 
More than all Afia's marmofets to view 
Grin, frilk, and water in the walks of Kew, 

Character of a Country Justice, 

Through thefe fair vallies, ftranger, haft thou 
ftray'd. 
By any chance, to vifit Harewood's fliade. 
And feen with honeft, antiquated air. 
In the plain hall the magiftratial chair ? 
There Herbert fate — The love of human kind. 
Pure light of truth, and temperance of mind. 
In the free eye the featur'd foul difplay'd. 
Honour's ftrong beam, and Mercy's melting Ihadej: 
Justice, that, in the rigid paths of law. 
Would ftill fome drops from Pity's fountain draw. 

Bend 



i84 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Bend o'er her urn with many a gen'rous fear. 
Ere his firm feal fhould force one Orphan's tear 3 
Fair EqjJiTY, and Reason fcorning art. 
And all the fober virtues of the heart, — 
Thefe fate with Herbert, thefe fhall beft avails 
Where ftatutes order ; or where ftatutes fail. 

General Motives for Lenity, 
Be this, ye rural magiftrates, your plari : 
Firm be your juftice, but be friends to man. 

He whom the mighty matter of this ball. 
We fondly deem, or farcically call. 
To own the Patriarch's truth however loth. 
Holds but a manfion crujh'd before the moth. 

Frail in his genius, in his heart, too, frail. 
Born but to err, and erring to bewail, 
Shalt thou his faults with eye fevere explore. 
And ^vit to life one human weaknefs more ? 

Still mark if vice or nature prompts the deed; 
Still mark the ftrong temptation and the need : 
On preffing want, on famine's powerful call. 
At leaft more lenient let thy Juftice fall. 

Apology for Vagrants. 

For him, who, loft to ev'ry hope of life. 

Has long with fortune held unequal ftrife. 

Known to no human love, no human care. 

The friendlefs, homelefs objed of defpair ; 



For 



THE COUNTRY JUSTICE. 285 

'"or the poor vagrant feel, while he complains, 
Xor from fad freedom fend to fadder chains. 
Alike, if folly or misfortune brought 
' rhofe laft of woes his evil days have wrought j 
Believe with focial mercy and with me. 
Folly's misfortune in the firft degree. 

Perhaps on fome inhofpitable fhore 
The houfelefs wretch a widow'd parent borej 
Who, then, no more by golden profpeds ledj, 
Of the poor Indian begg'd a leafy bed. 
Cold on Canadian hills, or Minden's plain. 
Perhaps that parent mourn'd her foldier flain j 
Eent o'er her babe, her eye dilToIv'd in dew. 
The big drops mingling with the milk he drew, 
'Tave the fad prefage of his future years. 
The child of mifery, baptiz'd in tears! 

Apostrophe to Edward the Third, 

O Edward, here thy falreft laurels fade! 
And thy long glories darken into (hade! 

While yet the palms thy hardy veterans won. 
The deeds of valour that for thee were done. 
While yet the wreaths for which they bravely bled, 
Fir'd thy high foul, and flourifh'd on thy head, 
Thofe veterans to their native (bores return'd. 
Like exiles wander'd, and like exiles mourn'd; 
Or, left at large no longer to bewail. 
Were vagrants deem'd, and deftin'd to a jail! 

Were 



a86 L A N G H O R N ' S POEMS. 

Were there no royal, yet uncultur'd lands. 
No vvad-es that wanted fuch fubduing hands ? 
Were Crsssy's heroes fuch abandoned things? 
O fate of war! and gratitude of ki.igs ! 

The Gvpsey-life. 
The Gypfey-race my pity rarely move ; 
Tet their ftrong thirft of liberty I love. 
Not Wilkes, our freedom's holy martyr, more 
Nor his firm phalanx, of the common fnore. 

For this in Norwood's patrimonial groves. 
The tawny father with his offspring roves ; 
When fummer funs lead Jlow the fultry day. 
In mofly caves, where welling waters play, 
Fann'd by each gale that cools the fervid (ky. 
With this in ragged luxury they lie. 
Oft at the fun the dufky Elfins flrain 
The fable eye, then, fnugging, fleep again ; 
Oft, as the dews of cooler evening fall. 
For their prophetic mother's mantle call. 

Far other cares that wand 'ring mother wait. 
The mouth, and oft the minifter of fate ! 
From her to hear, in evening's friendly fhade. 
Of future fortune, flies the village-maid. 
Draws her long-hoarded copper from its hold ; 
And rufty halfpence purchafe hopes of gold. 

But ah ! ye maids, beware the gypfey's lures! 
She opens not the womb of time, but yours, 



Ofc 



THE COUNTRY JUSTICE. 2S7 

Oft has her hands the haplefs Marian wrung, 
Marian, whom Gay in fweeteft ftrains has fungi 
The Parfon's maid — fore caufe had fhe to rue 
The Gypfey's tongue ; the Parfon's daughter too. 
Long had that anxious daughter figh"d to know 
What Vellum's fprucy clerk, the valley's beau. 
Meant by thofe glances, which at church he ftole. 
Her father nodding to the pfalm's flow drawl ; 
Long had flie figh'd, at length a prophet came. 
By many a fure predidlion known to fame. 
To Marian knov/n, and all flie told, for true: 
She knew the future, for the paft flie knew. 

Where, in the darkling fhed, the moon's dim rays 
Beam'd on the ruins of a one-horfe chaife, 
Yillaria fate, while faithful Marian brought 
The wayward prophet of the woe flie fought. 
Twice did her hands, the income of the week. 
On either fide, the crooked fixpence feek ; 
Twice were thofe hands withdrawn from either fide. 
To flop the titt'ring laugh, the blufli to hide. 
The wayward prophet made no long delay. 
No novice flie in fortune's devious way ! 
" Ere yet, fhe cried, ten rolling months are o'er, 
" Muft ye be mothers; maids, at leaft, no more. 
" With you fliall foon, O lady fair, prevail 
" A gentle youth, the flower of this fair vale. 
" To Marian, once of Colin Clout the Scorn, 
<' Shall Bunikin come, and Bumkinets be born." 

Smote 



488 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Smote to the heart, the maidens marvell'd fore. 
That ten fliort months had fuch events in ftore ; 
But holding firm, what village-maids believe, 
^hat Jlrife <with fate is 7nilking in ajteve ; 
To prove their prophet true, though to their coft. 
They juftly thought no time was to be loft. 

Thefe foes to youth, tliat feek, with dang'rous art. 
To aid the native weaknefs of the heart; 
Thefe mifcreants from thy harmlefs village drive. 
As wafps felonious from the lab'ring hive. 



End of the First Part, 



THE 



[ 289 1 

THE COUNTRY JUSTICE. 

A POEM. 

PART II. 

TO ROBERT WILSON CRACROFT, Escl- 

T> O R N with a gentle heart, and bom to pleafc 
■*-' With native goodnefs, of no fortune vain. 
The focial afped of inviting eafe. 

The kind opinion, and the fenfe humane ; 

To thee, my Cracroft, whom, in early youth. 
With lenient hand, and anxious love I led 

Through paths where fcience points to manly truth. 
And glory gilds the manfions of the dead : 

To thee this offering of maturer thought. 
That, fmce wild Fancy flung the lyre afide. 

With heedful hand the Moral Muse hath wrought, 
That Mufe devotes, and bears with honeft pride. 

Yet not that period of the human year. 

When Fancy reign'd, Ihall we with pain review, 

All Nature's feafons different afpefts wear. 
And now her flowers, and now her fruits are due» 

Vol. LXXI, U Not 



85© LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Not that in youth we rang'd the fmiling meads. 
On EfTex' fliores the trembling angle play'd, 

tJrging at noon the flow boat in the reeds. 
That wav'd their green uncertainty of fhade : 

Nor yet the days confum'd in Hackthorn's vale. 
That lonely on the Heath's wild bofom lies. 

Should we with ftern feverity bewail. 
And all the lighter hours of life defpife. 

For nature's fcafons different afpefts wear. 

And now her flowers, and now her fruits are due; 

Awhile ftie freed us from the fcourge of Care, 
But told us then — for focial ends we grew. 

To findfome virtue trac'd on life's fliort page. 
Some mark of fervice paid to human kind. 

Alone can chear the wintry paths of age. 
Alone fupport the far-refle6ling mind. 

Oh! often thought — when Smith's difcerning case 
To further days prolong'd this failing frame! 

To die, was little — But what heart could bear 
To die, and leave an undiftin^uilh'd name? 

®lagdon-Houfc 

3U Feb. 1775. 



THS 



[ 291 ] 

THE COUNTRY JUSTICE, 

PART IL 

PROTECTION OF THE POOR, 

* KT^ET, while thy rod reftralns the needy crew, 
"^ Remember that thou art their monarch too, 
Xing of the Beggars! — Lov'ft thou not the name? 
O, great from Ganges to the golden Tame! 
Far- ruling Sovereign of this begging ball. 
Low at thy footftool other thrones fhall fall. 
His alms to thee the whifker'd Moor convey +, 
And Prussia's fturdy beggar own thy fway ; 
■ Courts, fenates — all to Baal that bend the knee J, 
King of the beggars, thefe are fiefs to thee! 

But ftill, forgot the grandeur of thy reign, 
^Defcend to duties meaner crowns difdain; 
That worft excrefcency of power forego. 
That Pride of Kings, humanity's firft foe, 

* Refers to the conclufion of the firft part, 

+ The Mahometan Princes feem to have a regular fyftem of beg- 
ging. Nothing fo common as to hear that the Dey of Algiers, &C. 
.&c. are diffatisfied with their prefents. It muft be owned, it would 
be for the welfare of the world, if Princes in general would adhere 
to the maxim, that, it is better to beg than tojical. 

^ Tu pofcis vilia rerum, 

C^iiamvis fers te nullius egentem, Hor, 

U z Let 



-9« LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Let age no longer toil with feeble ftrife. 
Worn by long fervice in the war of life ; 
Nor leave the head, that time hath whiten'd, bare 
To the rude infults of the fearching air ; 
Nor bid the knee, by labour harden'd, bend, 
O thou, the poor man's hope, the poor man's friend ! 

If, when from heav'n fererer feafons fall. 
Fled from the frozen roof, and mouldering wall. 
Each face the pidure of a winter-day. 
More ftrong than Teniers' pencil could pourtray ;— 
If then to thee refort the fhlvering train. 
Of cruel days, and cruel man complain. 
Say to thy heart [remembering him who faid] 
Thefe people come from far y and ha've no bread. 

Nor leave thy venal Clerk empower'd to hear ; 
The voice of want is facred to thy ear. 
He, where no fees his fordid pen invite. 
Sports with their tears, too indolent to write; 
Like the fed monkey in the fable, vain 
To hear more helplefs animals complain. 

But chief thy notice fhall one monfter claim ; 
A monfter furnifh'd with a human frame. 
The Parifh-officer ! — though Verse difdain 
Terms that deform the fplendor of the ftrain ; 
It ftoops to bid thee bend the brow fevere 
On the fly, pilfering, cruel Overfeer ; 



The 



THE COUNTRY JUSTICE. sgj 

The fhuffling Farmer, faithful to no truft, 
Ruthlefs as rocks, infatiate as the duft ! 

When the poor Hind, with length of years decay 'd, 
Leans feebly on his once fubduing fpade. 
Forgot the fervice of his abler days. 
His profitable toil, and honeft praife. 
Shall this low wretch abridge his fcanty bread. 
This flave, whofe board his former labours fpread ? 

When harveft's burning funs and fickening air 
From labour's unbrac'd hand the grafp'd hook tear. 
Where fhall the helplefs family be fed. 
That vainly languifh for a father's bread ? 
See the pale Mother, funk with grief and care. 
To the proud Farmer fearfully repair ; 
Soon to be fent with infolence away, 
Referr'd to veftries, and a diftant day ! 
Referr'd — to perifli ! — Is my verfe fevere ? 
Unfriendly to the human charafter ? 
Ah ! to this figh of fad experience trull : 
The truth is rigid, but the tale is juft. 

If in thy courts this caitiff wretch appear. 
Think not, that patience were a virtue here. 
His low-born pride with honeft rage controul ; 
Smite his hard heart, and fhake his reptile foul. 

But, haplefs ! oft through fear of future woe. 
And certain vengeance of th' infulting focj 

U 3 Oft, 



iH' ILANGHORNE'S P O E M C. 

Oft, ere to thee the poor prefer their pray'r. 
The laft extremes of penury they bear* 

Wouldft: thou then raife thy patriot office higher^ 
To fomething more than Magiftrate afpire ? 
And, left each poorer, pettier chace behind. 
Step nobly forth, the friend of human kind ? 
The game I ftart courageouHy purfue ! 
Adieu to fear ! to indolence adieu ! 
And, firft we'll range this mountain's flormy fide^ 
WTiere the rude winds the (hepherd's roof deride. 
As meet no more the wintry blaft to bear, . 
And all the wild hoftilities of air. 
— That roof have I remember'd many a yeari 
It once gave refuge to a hunted deer — 
Here, in thofe days, we found an aged pair;— 
But Time untenants — hah! what feeft thou there ? 
" Horror! — byheav'n, extended on abed 
«* Of naked fearn,.two human creatures dead! 
*' Embracing as alive ! — ah, no ! — no life ! 
*'Cold,breathlefs!" 

'Tis the Shepherd and his wife. 
I knew thefcene, and brought thee to behold 
What fpeaks more ftrongly than the ftory told. 
They died through want — 

*' By every power I fwear, 
*' ff the wretch treads the earth, or breathes the air. 

Through 



THE COUNTRY JUSTICE. 895, 

«* Through whofe default of duty, or defign, 
*« Thefe vidims fell, he dies," 

They fell by thine 
<* Infernal !— Mine !— by— " 

Swear on no pretence : 
A fwearing Juftice wants both grace and fenfc. 

When thy good father held this wide domain. 
The voice of forrow never mourn'd in vain. 
Sooth'd by his pity, by his bounty fed. 
The fick found medicine, and the aged bread. 
He left their intereft to no parifh-care. 
No bailiff urg'd his little empire there : 
No village-tyrant ftarv'd them, or opprefs'd; 
He learnt their wants, and he thofe wants redrefs'd, 

Ev'n thefe, unhappy ! who, beheld too late. 
Smote thy young heart with horror at their fate. 
His bounty found, and deftin'd here to keep 
A fmall detachment of his mountain-fheep. 
Still pleas'd to fee them from the annual fair 
Th' unwritten hiftory of their profits bear; 
More nobly pleas'd thofe profits to reftore. 
And, if their fortune fail'd them, make it more. 

When nature gave her precept to remove 
His kindred fpirit to the realms of love. 
Afar their anguifti from thy diftant ear, 
No arm to fave, and no proteftion near, 

U4 Led 



ajfi LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Led by the lure of unaccounted gold. 
Thy bailiff feiz'd their little flock, and fold. 

Their want contending parities furvey'd. 
And this difown'd, and that refus'd to aid : 
A while, who fhould not fuccour them, they tried> 
And in that while the wretched vidims died. 

♦* I'll fcalp that bailiff— facrifice." 

In vain 
To rave at mifchief, if the caufe remain ! 

O days long loft to man in each degree ! 
The golden days of hofpitality ! 
When liberal fortunes vied with liberal ftrife 
To fill the nobleft offices of life ; 
When Wealth was Virtue's handmaid, and her gate 
Gave a free refuge from the wrongs of fate ; 
The poor at hand their natural patrons faw. 
And lawgivers were fupplements of law ! 

Loft are thofe days, and Fashion's boundlefs fway 
Has borne the guardian magiftrate away. 
Save in Augusta's ftreets, or Gallia's fhore. 
The rural patron is beheld no more. 
No more the poor his kind proteftion fnare. 
Unknown their wants, and unreceiv'd their prayer. 

Yet has that Fafhion, long fo light and vain, 
Reform'd at laft, and led the aoral train ? 

Have 



THE COUNTRY JUSTICE. 257 

Have her gay vot'ries nobler worth to boaft 

For Nature's love, for Nature's virtue loft? 

No — fled from thefe, the fons of Fortune find 

What poor refpedl to wealth remains behind. 

The mock regard alone of menial flaves. 

The vvorfhip'd calves of their outwitting knaves I 

Foregone the fecial, hofpitable days, 
When wide vales echoed with their ov/ner's praife. 
Of all that ancient confequence bereft. 
What has the modern man of fajhion left ? 

Does he, perchance,, to rural fcenes repair. 
And " wafte his fweetnefs" on the effenc'd air ? 
Ah ! gently lave the feeble frame he brings. 
Ye fcouring feas ! and ye fulphureous fprings ! 

And thou, Brighthelmftone, where no cits annoy_^ 
(All borne to Margate, in the Margate-hoy) 
Where, if the hafty creditor advance. 
Lies the light flcifF, and ever-bailing France, 
Do thou defend him in the dog-day-funs ! 
Secure in winter from the rage of duns ! 

While the grim catchpole, the grim porter fwear. 
One that he is, and one, he is not there. 
The tortur'd us'rer, as he murmurs by. 
Eyes the Venetian blinds, and heaves a figh. 



O, from each title folly ever took. 
Blood! Maccarone! Cicifbeo! or Rook! 



Frona 



f 



jj? LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

From each low pafiion, from each low refort. 

The thieving alley, nay, the righteous court. 

From Berties', Almack's, Arthur's, and the nefi: 

WhereJuDAH's ferrets earth with Charles unbkftj— 

From thefe and all the garbage of the great, 

At Honour's, Freedom's, Virtue's call — retreat ! 

Has the fair vale, where Rest, conceal'd itt flowers. 
Lies in fweet ambu(h for thy carelefs hours. 
The breeze, that, balmy fragrance to infufe. 
Bathes it's foft wing in aromatic dews. 
The ftream, to foothe thine ear, to cool thy breaft. 
That mildly murmurs from it's cryftal reft; — 
Have thefe lefs charms to win, lefs power to pleafe. 
Than haunts of rapine, harbours of difeafe? 

Will no kind flumbers o'er thine eyelids creep. 
Save where the fullen watchman growls at fleep ? 
Does morn no fweeter, purer breath difFufe 
Than fteams through alleys from the lungs of Jews? 
And is thy water, pent in putrid wood, 
BETHESDA-like, when troubled o»/j good ? 

Is it thy pafllon Linley's voice to hear. 
And has no mountain-lark detain'd thine ear ? 
Song marks alone the tribes of airy wing ; 
For, truft me, man was never meant to fing ; 
And all his mimic organs e'er expreft. 
Was but an imitative howl at bcft. 



THE COUNTRY JUS TICK =55^ 

Is it on Garrick's attitude you doat ? 
See on the pointed clifF yon lordly goat 1 
Like Lear's, his beard defcends in graceful fnow. 
And wild he looks upon the world below. 

Superior here the fcene In every part! 
Here reigns great nature, and there little art! 
Here let thy life affume a nobler plan. 
To Nature faithful, and the friend of man I 

Unnumber'd objefts aflc thy honeft care, 
Befide the orphan's tear, the widow's prayer: 
Far as thy power can fave, thy bounty blefs, 
Unnumber'd evils call for thy redrefs, 

Seeft thou afar yon folitary thorn, 
WTiofe aged limbs- the Heath's wild winds have torn ? 
While yet to cheer the homeward fhepherd's eye, 
Afevj feem ftraggling in the evening Iky! 
Not many funs have haftened down the day, 
Gr blufliing moons immers'd in clouds their way. 
Since there, a fcene that ftain'd their facred lights 
With horror ftopp'd a felon in his flight j 
A babe juft born that figns of life expreft. 
Lay naked o'er the mother's lifelefs beeaft. 
The pitying robber, confcious that, purfued. 
He had no time to wafte, yet flood and view'd; 
To the next cot the trembling infant bore. 
And gave a part of what he ftole before; 

Ko3^ 



S«o- LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Nor known to him the wretches were, nor dear. 
He felt as man, and dropp'd a human tear. 

Far other treatment ftie who breathlefs lay. 
Found from a viler animal of prey. 

Worn with long toil on many a painful road. 
That toil increas'd by nature's growing load. 
When evening brought the friendly hour of reft. 
And all the mother throng'd about her breaft. 
The ruffian officer oppos'd her ftay. 
And, cruel, bore her in her pangs away. 
So far beyond the town's laft limits drove. 
That to return were hopelefs, had ftie ftrove. 
Abandoned there — with famine, pain and cold. 
And anguifh, Ihe expir'd — the reft I've told. 

" Now let me fwear — For, by my foul's laft figh, 
" That thief fhall live, that overfeer Ihall die." 

Too late ! — his life the generous robber paid. 
Loft by that pity which his fteps delay'd ! 
No foul-difcerning Mansfield fate to hear. 
No Hertford bore his prayer to mercy's ear; 
No liberal Juftice firft affign'd the gaol. 
Or urg'd, as Camplin would have urg'd his tale. 

The living objedl of thy honeft rage. 
Old in parochial crimes, sxidijied'd with age. 

The 



THE COUNTRY JUSTICE. 30, 

The grave church- warden! — Unabafh'd he bears 
Weekly to church his book of wicked prayers. 
And pours, with all the blafphemy of praife. 
His creeping foul in Sternhold's creeping lays ! 



End of Part II. 



THK 



C 302 3 

,T H E COUNTRY JUSTICE, 

A POEM. 

PART IIL 

D E P R ^ D A T I O K. 

, g^ No ! Sir John— the mufe's gentle art 
^^' Lives not to blemifh, but to mend the heart, 
While Gay's brave robber grieves us for his fate. 
We hold the harpies of his life in hate, 
ingenuous youth, by nature's voice addreft. 
Finds not the harden'd, but the feeling breafl; 
Can form no wifh the dire eiFefls to prove 
Of lawlefs valour, or of venal love, 
Approves the fondnefs of the faithful maid. 
And mourns a generous paffion unrepaid. 

Yet would I praife the pious zeal that faves 
Imperial London from her world of knaves ; 
Yet would I count it no inglorious ftrife 
To fcourge the pefts of property and life. 

Come then, long Ikill'd in theft's illufive ways. 
Lord rfthc clue that thrids her mighty maze! 



Togethei 

I 



THE COUNTRY JUSTICE. 303 

Together let us beat all Giles's Fields, 
Try what the night-houfe, what the round-honfe yields. 
Hang when we muft, be candid when we pleafc. 
But leave no bawd, unlicens'd, at her eafe. 

Say firft, of thieves above, or thieves below. 
What can we order till their haunts we know ? 
Far from St. James's let your Nimrods ftray. 
But Hop and call at Stephen's in their way. 
That ancient viftualler, we've been told, of late. 
Has kept bad hours, encourag'd high debate; 
Thai thofe without ftill pelting thofe within. 
Have ftunn'd the peaceful neighbours with their din ^ 
That if you clofe his private walls inveft, 
'Tis odds, you meet with fome unruly gueft— 
Good Lord, Sir John, how would the people ftare 
To fee the prefent and the late Lord -mayor* 
Bow to the majefty of Bow-ftreet chair ! 



} 



Illuftrious chiefs I can I your haunts pafsby, 
Kor give my long-lov'd liberty a figh ? 
That heavenly plant which long unblemifh'd blew, 
Dilhonour'd only, only hurt by you ! 
Diihonour'd, when with harden'd front you clafcn 
To deeds of darknefs her diviner name ! 
For you grim Licence ftrove with Hydra breatfa 
To fpread the blafts of peftilence and death : 
Here for poor vice, for dark ambition there 
She fcatter'd poifon through the focial air. 

♦ This was written during the mayoralty of j'^76, 



^•+ LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Yet here, in vain — Oh, had her toil been vain, 
"When with black wing fhe fwept the weftern main! 
When with low labour, and infidious art. 
She tore a daughter from her parent's heart ! 

Oh,. patriots, ever patriots out of place. 
Fair honour's foil, and liberty's difgrace! 
With fpleen I fee your wild illufions fpread 
Through the long region of a land mifled ; 
See commerce fmk, fee cultivation's charms 
Loft in the rage of anarchy and arms ! 

And thou, O Ch — m, once a nation's pride, 
Eorne on the brighteft wave of glory's tide! 
Haft thou the parent fpurn'd, the erring child 
With profpefts vain to ruin's arms beguil'd ? 
Haft thou the plans of dire defedlion prais'd 
For the poor pleafure of a ftatue rais'd ? 

Oh, patriots, ever patriots out of place, 
From Charles quite gracelefs, up to Grafton's grace! 

Where forty-five once mark'd the dirty door. 
And the chain'd knife * invites the paltry whore ; 
Though far, methinks, the choiceft guefts are fled. 
And Wilkes and Humphrey number'd with the dead, 
Wilkes, who in death would friend(hip's vows fulfill. 
True to his caufe, and dines with Humphrey ftill — 

Whcitr 
* Ch:u.ie(l to ths table, to prerent depraedations. 



THE COUNTRY JUSTICE. 303 

Where fculks each dark, where roams each defperate 

wight. 
Owls of the day and vultures of the night, — 
Shall we, O knight, with cruel pains explore. 
Clear thefe low walks, and think the bufinefs o'er ? 
No — much, alas! for you, for me remains. 
Where jaftice fleeps, and deprasdation reigns. 

Wrapt in kind darknefs, you no fpleen betray. 
When the gilt Nabob lacqueys all the way : 
Harmlefs to you his towers, his forefts rife. 
That fwell with anguifli my indignant eyesj 
While in thofe towers raz'd villages I fee. 
And tears of orphans watering every tree. 
Are thefe mock- ruins that invade my view ? 
Thefe are the entrails of the poor Gentoo. 
T hat column's trophied bafe his bones fupply ; 
That lake the tears that fwell'd his fable eye ! 
Let here, O knight, their fteps terrific fteer 
Thy HUE AND CRY, and loofe thy bloodhounds here. 

Oh, MERCY, thron'd on his eternal breaft. 
Who breath 'd the favage waters into reft ; 
By each foft pleafure that thy bofom fmote. 
When firft creation ftarted from his thought ; 
By each warm tear that melted o'er thine eye. 
When on his works was written these must die! 
If fecret flaughter yet, nor cruel war 
Have from thefe mortal regions forc'd thee far. 
Still to our follies, to our frailties blind. 
Oh, ftretch thy healing wings o'er human kind ! 

Vol. LXXI. X —Fox 



3o6 LANGHORNE'S POEMS, 

—For them I aflc not, hoftile to thy fway. 
Who calmly on a brother's vitals prey : 
For them I plead not, who, in blood embrued. 
Have every fofter fentiment fubdued. 

Prisons. 
Yet, gentle power, thy abfence I bewail. 
When feen the dank, dark regions of a gaol ; 
When found alike in chains and night enclos'd. 
The thief detefted ; and the thief fuppos'd ! 
Sure, the fair light and the falubrious air 
Each YET- SUSPECTED prifoncr might fhare. 
■ — To lie, to languifh in fome dreary cell. 
Some loathed hold, where guilt and horror dwell. 
Ere yet the truth of feeming fafts be tried. 
Ere yet their country*s facred voice decide, 
Britain, behold thy citizens expos 'd. 
And blufli to think the Gothic age unclos'd! 

Filiation. 

Oh, more than Goths, who yet decline to raze 
That peft of James's puritanic days. 
The favage law* that barb'roufly ordains 
For female virtue lost a felon's pains!— 
Dooms the poor maiden, as her fate fevere. 
To toil and chains a long-enduring year. 

Th* unnatural monarch, to the fcK unkind. 
An owl obfcene, in learning's fwifliinc blind ! 

Councils 
* 7 K C. 4. 



THE COUNTRY JUSTICE. 307 

Councils of pathics, cabinets of tools. 
Benches of knaves, and parliaments of fools! 
Fanatic fools, that, in thofe twilight times. 
With wild religion cloak 'd the worft of crimes!— 
Hope we from fuch a crew, in fuch a reign. 
For equal laws, or policy humane ? 

Here, then, O Justice, thy own power forbear; 
The fole proteftor of th' unpitied fair. 
Though long intreat the ruthlefs overfecr; 
Though the loud veftry tcize thy tortur'd ear; 
Though all to afts, to precedents appeal. 
Mute be thy pen, and vacant reft thy feal. 

Yet fhalt thou know, nor is the difference nice. 
The cafual fall, from impudence of vice. 
Abandon'd guilt by aftive laws reftrain. 

But paufe if virtue's flighteft fpark remain. 

Left to the fhamelefs lafh, the hard'ning gaol. 
The faireft thoughts of modefty would fail. 

The down-caft eye, the tear that flows amain. 
As if to aflc her innocence again ; 
The plaintive babe, that flumbering feem'd to lie 
On her foft breaft, and wakes at the heav'd figh; 
The cheek that wears the beauteous robe of (hame ; 
How loth they leave a gentle breaft to blame ! 

Here, then, O Justice, thy own power forbear ;— 
Th.c fole proteftor of th' unpitied fair ! 

X 2 MILTON'S 



[ 308 ] 
MILTON'S ITALIAN POEMS 

TRANSLATE Dj 
AND ADDRESSED TO A GENTLEMAN OF ITALY, 



ADDRESS: 

TO S I G N R. M O Z Z I, OF M A C E R A T A, 

rr^O thee, the child of claflic plains, 
•■• The happier hand of nature gave 
Each grace of Fancy's finer ftrains. 

Each Mufe that mourn'd o'er Maro's grave. 

Nor yet the harp that Horace ftrung 

With many a charm of eafy art ; 
Nor yet what fweet Tibullus fung. 

When beauty bound him to her heart ; 

Nor all that gentle Provence knew. 
Where each breeze bore a lover's figh. 

When Petrarch's fweet perfuafion drew 
The tender woe from Laura's eye; 



Nor 



ADDRESS. 309 

Nor aught that nobler fcience feeks. 

What truth, what virtue muft avoid. 
Nor aught the voice of nature fpeaks. 

To thee unknown, or unenjoy'd. 

O wife beyond each weaker aim. 

That weds the foul to this low fphere. 
Fond to indulge the feeble frame. 

That holds awhile her prifoner here ! 

Truft me, my friend, that foul furvives, 

(If e'er had mufe prophetic (kill) 
And when the fated hour arrives. 

That all her faculties fhall fill. 

Fit for fome nobler frame fhe flies. 

Afar to find a fecond birth. 
And, flourifhing in fairer Ikies, 

Forfakes her nurfery of earth. 

Oh ! there, my Mozzi, to behold 

The man that mourn 'd his country's wrong. 

When the poor exile left his fold, 
* And feebly dragg'd his goat along ! 

On Plato's hallow'd breaft to lean. 

And catch that ray of heavenly fire, ^ 

Which fmooth'd a tyrant's fullen mien. 
And bade the cruel thought retire ! 

X 3 Amid 

♦ Hanc etiam vix Tityre duco, Virg. 



jio LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Amid thofe fairy- fields to dwell. 
Where Taflb's favour'd fpirit faw 

What, numbers none but his could tell. 
What, pencils none but his could draw! 

And oft at eve, if eve can be 

Beneath the fource of glory's fmile. 

To range elyfian groves, and fee 

That Nightly Visitant— 'ere while. 

Who, when he left immortal choirs, 
To mix with Milton's kindred foul. 

The labours of their golden lyres 
Would Heal, and • whifper whence he ftolc/ 

Aufonian bard, from my fond ear 
By feas and mountains fever'd long. 

If, chance, thefe humble ftrains to hear. 
You leave your more melodious fong. 

Whether, adventurous, you explore 

The wilds of Apenninus' brow. 
Or, mufing near Loretto's* fhorc. 

Smile piteous on the pilgrim's vow ; 

The mufe's gentle offering ftill 

Your ear fhall win, your love fhall wooe. 
And thefe fpring-flowers of Milton fill 

The favour'd vales where firft they grew. 



• Within a few mile* of MMCraU. 



For 



ADDRESS. 31H 

For me, depriv'd of all that's dear. 

Each fair, fond partner of my life. 
Left with a lonely oar to fleer. 

Through the rude ftorms of mortal ftrife ;— 

When Care, the felon of pny days. 

Expands his cold and gloomy wing. 
His load when ftrong affliftion lays 

On hope, the heart's elaftic fpring. 

For me what folace yet remains. 

Save the fweet Mufe's tender lyre; 
Sooth 'd by the magick of her ftrains. 

If, chance, the felon. Care, retire? 

Save the fweet mufe's tender lyre. 

For me no folace now remains ! 
Yet (hall the felon. Care, retire ; 

Sooth'd by the magic of her ftrains. 



Jun* a6, 1776. •*' *" 



X4 SONNET 



3is LANGHORN'S POEMS. 



SONNET 1. 

/^ Lady fair, whofe honour'd name is borne 

^^ By that foft vale where Rhyne fo loves to ftray 
And fees the tall arch crown his wat'ry way ! 

Sure, happy he, though much the Mufe's fcorn. 
Too dull to die beneath thy beauty's ray. 
Who never felt that fpirit's charmed fway. 

Which gentle fmiles, and gentle deeds adorn. 

Though in thofe fmiles are all love's arrows worn. 
Each radiant virtue though thofe deeds difplay ! 

Sure, happy he who that fweet voice fhould hear 
Mould the foft fpeech, cr fwell the tuneful ftrain. 
And, confcious that his humble vows were vain. 

Shut fond attention from his clofed ear; 

V/ho, piteous of himfelf, lliould timely part. 
Ere love had held long empire in his heart! 



SONNET ir. 

AS o'er yon wild hill, when the browner light 
Of evening falls, the Village-maiden hies 
To fofter fome fair plant with kind fupplies 
Some ftrant,er plant, :hat, yet in tender plight. 
But feebly buds, ere Spring has open'd quite 
The foft affedions of ferener fkies : 



So 



MILTON'S SONNETS. 313 

So I, with fuch like gentle thought devife 
This ftranger tongue to cultivate with care. 
Ail for the fake of lovely lady fair. 

Ana tune my lays, in language little tried 
By fuch as wont to Tamis' banks repair, 
TaiTiB forfook for Arno's flowery fide. 

So wrought love's will that ever ruleth wide ! 



SONNET III. 

/^HARLES, muft I fay, what ftrange it feems to fay, 
^^This rebel heart that Love hath held as naught. 

Or, haply, in his cunning mazes caught. 
Would laugh, and let his captive ftealaway; 

This fimple heart hath now become his prey. 

Yet hath no golden trefs this lefTon taught. 
Nor vermeil cheek that Ihames the rifing day : 

Oh! no — 'twas beauty's raoit celeftail ray. 
With charms divine of fovereign fweetnefs fraught I 

The noble mien, the foul-diflblving air. 
The bright arch bending o'er the lucid eye. 

The voice that, breathing melody fo rare. 
Might lead the toil'd moon from the middle fky! 

Charles, when fuch mifchief arm'd this foreign fair. 
Small chance had I to hope tliis fimple heart Ihould fly. 



SONNET 



3H LANGHORNE'S POEMS 



SONNET IV. 

TN truth I feel my fun in thofe fair eyes, 

■■■ So ftrongly ftrike they, like that powerful ray. 

Which falls with all the violence of day 
On Lybia's fands— and oft, as there, arife 

Hot wafting vapours from the fource where lies 

My fecret pain ; yet, haply, thofe may fay. 
Who talk love's language, thefe are only fighs. 

That the foft ardors of the foul betray *. 



SONNET V. 

AN artlefs youth, who, fimple in his love, 
Seem'd little hopeful from his heart to fly. 
To thee that heart, O lady, nor deny 
The votive gift, he brings ; fince that (hall prove 
All change and fear and falfity above j 
Of manners that to gentle deeds comply. 
And courteous will, that never alketh why ; 
Yet, mild as is the never wrathful dove, 
Firmnefs it hath, and fortitude to bear 

The 

* The Concetti of the Italian In the conclufion of this Sonnet 
were fo obftinate, that it feemed fcarce poflible to reduce them 
into any reputable form of trandation. Such trifling liberties as 
the tranllator fhall appear to hare taken with thefe poems, mud 
be imputed to a defire of getting over blemi/bes of the fame 
kind. 



MILTON'S SONNETS. 315 

The wrecks of nature, or the wrongs of fate ; 

From envy far, and low.defigning care. 
And hopes and fears that vulgar minds await ; 
With the fweet mufe, and founding lyre elate. 

And only weak, when love had entrance there. 



C A N Z O N. 

/^ A Y youths and frolic damfels round me throng, 

^^ And fmiling fay, why, fhepherd, wilt thou write 
Tfhy lays of love adventurous to recite 

In unknown numbers and a foreign tongue ? 

Shepherd, if Ho/ie hath ever wrought thee wrong. 
Afar from her and Fancy s fairy light 
Retire — So they to fport with me delight; 

And other (hores, they fay, and other ftreams 

Thy prefence wait ; and fweeteft flowers that blow. 
Their ripening blooms referve for thy fair brow. 

Where glory foon fhall bear her brighteft beams ; 

Thus they, and yet their foothing little feems j 
If (he, for whom I breathe the tender vow. 

Sing thefe foft lays, and afk the mutual fong. 

This is thy language, love, and I to thee belong ! 



THE 



[ 3^6 ] 

The 
FABLES OF FLORA. 

" Syhas, faltufque /equamur, 
*' IntaSIos ViRG. 



T O 

THE COUNTESS OF HERTFORD. 

Madam, 

THERE is a tax upon the name of the Countefs 
of Hertford, an hereditary obligation to pa- 
tronize the Mufes; and in times like thefe, when 
their influence, I will not fay their reputation, is on 
the decline, they can by no means difpenfe with fo 
eflential a privilege. I intreat you. Madam, to take 
the following poems under your proteftion. They 
were written with an unaffefted wifli to promote the 
love of Nature and the interefts of Humanity. On 
the credit of fuch motives I lay them at your feet, 
and beg to be efteemed. 

Madam, 

Your moft devoted and 

moft obedient fervant, 

John Langhorne. 



( 317 ) 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



T N the following poems, the plan of Fable is fome- 
-*■ what enlarged, and the province fo far extended, 
that the original narrative and moral may be 
accompanied with imagery, defcription, and fenti- 
ment. The fcenery is formed in a department of na- 
ture adapted to the genius and difpofition of Poetry; - 
where {he finds new objefts, interefts, and connexions, 
to exercife her fancy and her powers. If the execu- 
tion, therefore, be unfuccefsful, it is not the fault of 
the plan, but of the Poet. 



FABL E 



3i8 LANGHORNE'S P O E^M S. 

FABLE I. 
THE SUNFLOWER AND THE IVY. 

AS duteous to the place of prayer. 
Within the convent's lonely walls. 
The holy fifters ftill repair. 

What time the rofy morning calls : 

So fair, each morn, fo full of grace. 

Within their little garden rear'd. 
The flower of Phoebus turn'd her face 

To meet the Power Ihe lov'd and fear'd. 

And where, along the rifing fky, 

Her God in brighter glory burn'd. 
Still there her fond obfervant eye. 

And there her golden breaft (he turn'd. 

When calling from their weary height 

On weftern waves his beams to reft. 
Still there fhe fought the parting fight. 

And there fhe turn'd her golden breaft. 

But foon as night's invidious ftiade 

Afar his lovely looks had borne. 
With folded leaves and drooping head. 

Full fore Ihe griev'd, as one forlorn. 

Sack 



THE FABLES OF FLORA, 319 

Such duty in a flower difplay'd 

The holy fillers fmil'd to fee. 
Forgave the pagan rites it paid. 

And lov'd its fond idolatry. 

But painful ftill, though meant for kind. 

The praife that falls on Envy's ear ! 
O'er the dim window's arch entwin'd. 

The canker'd Ivy chanc'd to hear. 

And " See, fhe cry'd, that fpecious flower, 
** Whofe flattering bofom courts the fun, 

'* The pageant of a gilded hour, 

** The convent's fimple hearts hath won ! 

♦* Obfequious meannefs ! ever prone 
** To watch the patron's turning eye ; 

** No will, no motion of its own ! 

*• 'Tis this they love, for this they figh : 

** Go, fplendid fycophant ! no more 

" Difplay thy foft fedu<flive arts ! 
** The flattering clime of courts explore, 

** Nor fpoil the convent's fimple hearts. 

** To me their praife more juftly due, 
*• Of longer bloom and happier grace! 

" Whom changing months unalter'd view, 
** And find them in my fond embrace," 

4 '* How 



320 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

*• How well," the modeft flower reply'd, 
•* Can Envy's wrefted eye elude 

" The obvious bounds that ftill divide 

" Foul Flattery from fair Gratitude. 

" My duteous praife each hour I pay, 
" For few the hours that I muft live; 

•' And give to him my little day, 
** Whofe grace another day may give. 

*♦ When low this golden form fhall fall 
•• And fpread with dufl: its parent plain ; 

" That dufl: fhall hear his genial call, 
♦' And rife, to glory rife, again. 

" To thee, my gracious power, to thee 
" My love, my heart, my life are due ! 

" "fhy goodnefs gave that life to be ; 
" Thy goodnefs fiiall that life renew. 

" Ah me ! one moment from thy fight 
" That thus my truant-eye fhould ftray ! 

«♦ The God of glory fets in night ; 
" His faithlefs flower has loft a day.'* 

Sore griev 'd the flower, and droop'd her head ; 

And fudden tears her breaft bedew'd : 
Confenting tears the fifters flied. 

And, wrapt in holy wonder, view'd. 



With 



THE FABLES OF FLORA. 3*1 

With joy, with pious pride elate, 

" Behold," the aged abbefs cries, 
^' An emblem of that happier fate 

" Which heav'n to all but us denies. 

'' Our hearts no fears but duteous fears, 
" No charm but duty's charm can move ; 

** We fhed no tears but holy tears 
*' Of tender penitence and love. 

*' See there the envious vi'orld pourtray'd 
*' In that dark look, that creeping pace ! 

'* No flower can bear the Ivy's fhade ; 
** No tree fupport its cold embrace. 

« The oak that rears it from the ground. 

" And bears its tendrils to the ikies, 
" Feels at his heart the rankling wound, 
** And in its pois'nous arms he dies." 

Her moral thus the matron read. 

Studious to teach her children dear. 
And they, by love or duty led. 

With pleafure heard, or feem'd to hear. 

Yet one lefs duteous, not lefs fair, 

(In convents ftill the tale is known) 
The fable heard with filent care. 

But found a moral of her own. 

Vol,, LXXI. Y The 



z^z lAnghorne's poems. 

The flower that fmil'd along the day. 

And droop'd in tears at ev'ning's fall.; 
Too well fhe found her life difplay. 

Too well her fatal lot recall. 

The treacherous Ivy's gloomy fhade. 
That murdered what it moft embrac'd. 

To well that cruel fcene convey'd 
Which all her fairer hopes effac'd. 

Her heart with ^lent horror fhook ; 

With fighs Ihe fought her lonely cell : 
To the dim light Ihe caft one look ; 

And bade o?2ce more the -viOxXA farcvjell. 



P A B L E II. 

THE EVENING PRIM ROSS. 

tTp H E R E are that love the fhades of life, 
■*■ And fhun the fplendid walks of fame j 
There are that hold it rueful ftrife 
To rifque Ambition's lofing game : 

That far from Envy's lurid eye 

The faireft fruits of Genius rear. 

Content to fee them bloom and die 

In Friendlhip's fiaall but kindly fphere. 



Thaii 



THE FABLES OF FLORA. 32$ 

Than vainer flowers though fweeter far. 

The Evening Primrofe fhuns the day ; 
Blooms only to the weftern ftar. 

And loves its folitary ray. 

In Eden's vale an aged hind. 

At the dim twilight's clofing hour. 
On his time-fmoothed ftafFreclin'd, 

With wonder view'd the opening flower, 

«' Ill-fated flower, at eve to blow," 

In pity's Ample thought he cries, 
** Thy bofom muft not feel the glow 

** Of fplendid funs, or fmiling flcies, 

** Nor thee, the vagrants of the field, 

" The hamlet's little train behold ; 
♦* Their eyes to fweet oppreflion yield, 

*' When thine the falling fhades unfold, 

«* Nor thee the hafiy fhepherd heeds, 

" When love has fill'd his heart with cares, 
V For flowers he rifles all the meads, 

" For wa!s.ing flowers — but thine forbears, 

*^ Ah ! wafte no more that beauteous bloom 
•* On night's chill fliade, that fragrant breath, 

'=* Let fmiling funs thofe gems illume ! 
«« Fair flower, to live unfeen is death," 



Soft 



3Z4- LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

oft as the voice of vernal gales 
That o'er the bending meadow blow. 
Or ftreams that fteal through even vales. 
And murmur that they move fo flow : 

Deep in her unfrequented bower. 

Sweet Philomela pour'd her drain ; 
The bird of eve approv'd her flower. 

And anfwer'd thus the anxious fwain. 

Live unfeen ! 
Bv moonlight fliades, in valleys green. 

Lovely flower, we'll live unfeen. 
Cf our pleafures deem not lightly. 
Laughing day may look more fprightly. 
But I love the modeft mien. 
Still I love the modeft mien 
Of gentle evening fair, and her ftar-traix-ed queen. 

Didll: thou, Ihepherd, never find, 
Pleafure is of penfive kind ? 
Has thy cottage never known 
That fhe loves to live alone ? 
Doft thou not at evening hour 
Feel forae foft and fecret power. 
Gliding o'er thy yielding mind, 
T<eave fweet ferenity behind; 
While all difarm"d, the cares of day 
Steal through the falling gloom away ? 



Love 



THE FABLES OF FLORA, 325 

Love to think thy lot was laid 

In this undiftinguifh'd (hade. 

Far from the world's infeftious view. 

Thy little virtues fafely blew. 

Go, and in day's more dangerous hour. 

Guard thy emblematic flower. 

FABLE in. 
THE LAUREL AND THE REED. 

THE* Reed that once the ftiepherd blew 
On old Cephisus' hallow 'd fide. 
To Sylla's cruel bow apply'd. 
Its inoffenfive mafter flew. 

Slay, bloody foldier, flay thy hand. 
Nor take the rtiepherd's gentle breath : 

Thy rage let innocence v/ithftand ; 
Let mufick foothe the thirft of death. 

He frown 'd — He bade the arrow fly — 

The arrow fmote the tuneful fwain ; 
No more its tone his lip fliall try. 

Nor wake its vocal foul again. 

Cephisus, from his fedgy urn. 

With woe beheld the fanguine deed : 
He mourn'd, and as they heard him mourn, 

Aflenting figh'd each trembling Reed, 

Y 3 " Fair 

* The reeds on the banks of the Cephifus, of which the {hep- 
herds made their pipes, Sylla's foldiers ufed for arrows. 



316 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

•* Fair offspring of my waves," he cry'd ; 

•' That bind my brows, my banks adorn, 
" Pride of the plains, the rivers' pride, 

'* For mufick, peace, and beauty born ! 

** Ah ! what unheedful have we done ? 

•* What daemons here in death delight ? 
** What fiends that curfe the focial fun ? 

*♦ What furies of infernal night ? 

*« See, fee my peaceful fhepherds bleed r 
♦* Each heart in harmony that vy'd, 

" Smote by its own melodious reed, 
*♦ Lies coldj along my blufliing iide» 

<* Back to your urn, my waters, fly; 

*« Or find in earth fome fecret way ; 
'* For horror dims yon confcious (ky, 

•« And hell has iflued into day." 

Through Delphi's holy depth of (hade 

The fympathetic forrows ran ; 
V^Tiile in his dim and mournful glade 

The genius of her groves began. 

«• In vain Cephisus fighs to fave 

♦' The fwain that loves his watry mead, 

♦• And weeps to fee his reddening wave, 
•* And mourns for his pen,erted Reed : 



Ift 



THE FABLES OF FLORA. 32; 

" In vain my violated groves 

«' Muft I with equal grief bewail, 
♦*" While defolation fternly roves, 

" And bids the fanguine hand affail, 

«* God of the genial ftream, behold 

♦• My laurel (hades of leaves fo bare! 
" Thofe leaves no poet's brows enfold, 

•' Nor bind Apollo's golden hair, 

" Like thy fair offspring, mifapply'd, 

" Far other purpofe they fupply j 
*' The murderer's burning cheek to hidc^ 

" And on his frownful temples die. 

«« Yet deem not thefe of Pluto's race, 
*' Whom wonnded nature fues in vain ;. 

<=• Pluto difclaims the dire difgrace, 

" And cries indignant, " They are men,"' 



FABLE IV. 

THE GARDEN ROSE AMD THE WILD ROSE, 

AS Dee, whofe current, free from ftaln. 
Glides fair o'er Merioneth's plain,. 
By mountains forc'd his w^ay to fleer 
Along the lake of Pi MBLE Mere, 



Y 4 Parted 



^aX LANGHORNE'S POEMS 

Darts fwiftly through the ftagnant mafs. 

His waters trembling as they pafs. 

And leads his lucid waves below, 

Unmix'd, unfullied as they flow — 

So clear through life's tumultuous tide. 

So free could Thought and Fancy glide; 

Could Hope as fprightly hold her courfe. 

As firft fhe left her native fource, 

Unfought in her romantic cell 

The keeper of her dreams might dwell. 

But ah ! they will not, will not laft — 
When life's firft falr\' ftage is paft. 
The glowing hand of Hop e is cold ; 
And Fancy lives not to be old. 
Darker, and darker all before ; 
We turn the former profpeft o'er; 
And find in Memory's faithful eye 
Our little ftock of pleafures lie. 

Come, then ; thy kind receffes ope ! 
Fair keeper of the dreams of Hop e 1 
Come with thy vifionary train ; 
And bring my morning fcenes again ! 

To Enon's wild and filent Ihade, 
Where oft ray lonely youth was laid ; 
What time the vjcodland G^sivs came, 
And touch'd me with his holy (lame. — 



THE FABLES OF FLORA. 2«> 

Or, where the hermit, Bela, leads 
Her waves through folitary meads ; 
And only feeds the defert-flower. 
Where once flie footh'd my flumbering hour : 
Or roufed by Stain more's wintry Iky, 
She wearies echo with her cry ; 
And oft, what ftorms her bofom tear. 
Her deeply-wounded banks declare.— 

"Where Ed e n's fairer waters flow. 
By Milton's bower, or Osty's brow. 
Or Brockley's alder-fhaded cave. 
Or, winding round the Druid's grave. 
Silently glide, with pious fear. 
To found his holy flumbers near. — 

To thefe fair fcenes of Fancy's reign, 
O Memory ! bear me once again ; 
For, when life's varied fcenes are pafl, 
'Tis firaple Nature charms at laft. 

'Twas thus of old a poet pray'd ; 

Th' indulgent power his prayer appro v'd. 
And, ere the gather'd Rofe could fade. 

Reftored him to the fcenes he lov'd, 

A Rofe, the poet's favourite flower. 
From Flora's cultured walks he bore ; 

No fairer bloom'd in Esher's bower. 
Nor Prior's charming Chloe wore. 

No 



3JO LANGHORNE'S POEMS* 

No fairer flowers could Fancy twine 

To hide Anac r eon's fnowy hair j 
For there Almeria's bloom divine. 

And Elliot's fweeteft blufh was there^ 

When flie, the pride of courts, retires. 
And leaves for fhades, a nation's Iove> 

With awe the village maid admires. 

How Waldegrave looks, how Waldegravb 
moves. 

So marvell'dmuch in Enon's fhade 

The flowers that all uncultur'd grew,. 
When there the fplendid Rofe difplay'd 

Her fvvelling breaft, and fliining hue^ 

Yet one, that oft adorn'd the place 

Where now her gaudy rival reigned, 
Gf Ampler bloom, but kindred race. 

The penfive Eglantine complained.—— 

•* Miftaken youth," with fighs fhe faid, 

** From nature and from me to ftray! 
«* The bard, by fplendid forms betray'd^ 

** No more fliall frame the purer lay, 

»* Luxuriant, like the flaunting Rofe, 
" And gay the brilliant flrains may be- 

f* But far, in beauty, far from thofe, 
«* That flowed to nature and to me." 



Tht 



THE FABLE:S of FLORA. 33* 

The poet felt, with fond furprize. 

The truths the fylvan critic told ; 
And " though this courtly Rofe," he cries, 

•' Is gay, is beauteous to behold;. 

"' Yet, lovely flower, I find in thee 

'• Wild fweetnefs which no words exprefs, 

■" And charms in thy fimplicity, 

<• That dwell not in the pride of drefs," 



FABLE V: 
THE VIOLET AND THE PANSY, 

SHEPHERD, if near thy ar tlefs breaft. 
The god of fond defires repair ; 
Implore him for a gentle gueft. 

Implore him with unwearied prayer. 

Should beauty's foul-enchanting fmile. 
Love-kindling looks, and features gay,. 

Should thefe thy wandering eye beguile. 
And fteal thy warelefs heart away ; 

That heart (hall'foon with forrow fwell;,. 

And foon the erring eye deplore. 
If in the be.auteous bofom dwell 

No gentle virtue's genial ftore. 



m 



jjt LANGHORNE'S POEMS, 

Far from his hive one fummer-day, 
A young and yet unpraftis'd bee. 

Borne on his tender wings away. 
Went forth the flowery world to fee. 

The morn, the noon in play he pafs'd. 
But when the fhades of evening came. 

No parent brought the due repaft. 
And faintncfs feizM his little frame* 

By nature urg'd, by inftiRd led. 
The bofom of a flower he fought. 

Where ftreams mourn 'd round a moffy bed. 
And violets all the bank enwrought. 

Of kindred race, but brighter dies. 

On that fair bank a Panfy grew. 

That borrow 'd from indulgent Ikies 

A velvet (hade and purple hue. 

The tints that ftream'd with glnfl"y gold. 
The velvet fliade, the purple hue. 

The ftranger wonder'd to behold. 
And to its beauteous bofom flew. 

Not fonder hafle the lover fpeeds. 
At evening's fall, his fair to meet. 

When o'er the hardly-bending meads 
He fprings on more, than mortal feet : 



Nor 



THE FABLES OF FLORA. 333 

Nor glow^ his eye with brighter glee. 

When ftealine near her orient breaft ; 
Than felt the fond enamour'd bee. 

When firft the golden bloom he preft. 

Ah ! pity much his youth untried. 

His heart in beauty's magic fpell! 
So never paffion thee betide. 

But where the genial virtues dwell. 

In vain he feeks thofe virtues there ; 

No foul-fuftaining charms abound : 
No honey 'd fweetnefs to repair 

The languid waftc of life is found. 

An aged bee, whofe labours led 

Through thofe fair fprings, and meads of gold. 
His feeble wing, his drooping head 

Beheld, and pity'd to behold. 

*' Fly, fond adventurer, fly the art 

*' That courts thine eye with fair attire ; 

** Who fmiles to win the heedlefs heart, 
** Will fmile to fee that heart expire. 

*' This modeft flower of humbler hue, 

" That boaft« no depth of glowing dyes, 

" Array'd in unbefpangled blue, 
*' The fimple cloathing of the (kies — 

" This 



534 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

• «* This flower, with balmy fweetnefs bleft, 

" May yet thy languid life renew :" 
He faid, and to the Violet's breaft 

The little vagrant faintly flew. 

FABLE VI. 

THE QUEEN OF THE MEADOW AND THE 
CROWN IMPERIAL. 

FROM Bactria's vales, where beauty blows 
Luxuriant in the genial ray ; 
Where flowers a bolder gem difclofe. 
And deeper drink the golden day : 

From Bactria's vales to Britain's fliore 
What time the Crown Imperial came, 

. Full high the {lately ftranger bore 
The honours of his birth and name. 

In all the pomp of eaftern ftate. 

In all the eaftern glory gay. 
He bade, with native pride elate. 

Each flower of humbler birth obey. 

O, that the child unborn might hear. 

Nor hold it ftrange in diftant time. 
That freedom even to flowers was dear. 

To flowers that bloora'4 in Britain's clime ! 

' 3 Thro' 



THE FABLES OF FLORA. jgs 

Thro' purple meads, and fpicy gales. 
Where Strymon's * filver waters play. 

While far from hence their goddefs dwells. 
She rules with delegated fway. 

That fway the Crown Imperial fought. 
With high demand and haughty mien : 

But equal claim a rival brought, 

A rival, call'd the Meadow's Queek, 

" In climes of orient glory born, 
*' Where beauty firft and empire grew ; 

^' Where firft. unfolds the golden morn, 
*' Where richer falls the fragrant dzw : 

«' In light's ethereal beauty dreft, 

" Behold," he cried, ♦' the favour'd ^owe^i, 
*' Which Flora's high commands inveft 

" With enfigns of imperial power! 

■** Where proftrate vales, and blufhing meads, 
*' And bending mountains own his fway, 

*' While Persia's lord his empire leads, 
«' And bids the trembling world obey; 

«* While blood bedews the ftraining bow, 
*• And conqueft rends the fcatter'd air, 

*' 'Tis mine to bind the vigor's brow, 
*' And reign in envied glory there : 

* The Ionian Strymon, 

•«• Then 



1^6 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

" Then lowly bow, ye Britifh flowers ! 

** Confefs your monarch's mighty fway, 
*' And own the only glory yours, 

" "\^'hen fear flies trembling to obey," 

He faid, and fudden o'er the plain. 

From flower to flower a murmur ran; 
With modeft air, and milder ftrain. 

When thus the Meadow's Queen began. 

" If vain of birth, of glory vain, 

** Or fond to bear a regal name, 
*♦ The pride of folly brings difdain, 

" And bids me urge a tyrant's claim : 

*• If war my peaceful realms aflTail, 
*• And then, unraov'd by pity's call, 

" I fmile to fee the bleeding vale, 
•' Or feel one joy in nature's fall : 

** Then may each juftly vengeful flower 
" Purfue her Queen with generous ftrife, 

" Nor leave the hand of lawlefs power 
•• Such compafs on the fcale of life. 

•♦ One fimple virtue all my pride ! 

" The wifh that flies to mifery's aid ; 
*' The balm that fiops the crimfon tide * 

*' And heals the wounds that war has made." 

* The property of that flower. 

Their 



THE FABLES OF FLORA. 33/ 

Their free confent by Zephyrs borne. 

The flowers their Meadow's Queen obey; 

And fairer blufhes crowned the morn. 
And fweeter fragrance filled the day, 

FABLE VII. 

THE WALL. FLOWER. 

^' WT^^ loves my flower, the fweetefl flower 
*' VV nphat fwells the golden breaft of May, 
** Thrown rudely o'er this ruin'd tower, 
*« To wafte her folitary day ? 

*' Why, when the mead, the fpicy vale, 

*' The grove and genial garden call, 
* ' Will Ihe her fragrant foul exhale, 

*« Unheeded on the lonely wall ? 

" For never fare was beauty born 

" To live in death's deferted (hade ! 
•"•« Come, lovely flower, my banks adorn, 

*' My banks for life and beauty made.'* 

Thus Pity wak'd the tender thought. 

And by her fweet perfuafion led. 
To feize the hermit-flower I fought. 

And bear her from her ftony bed. 



Vol. LXXI. Z I fought 



?3S tANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

I fought — but fudden on mine ear 

A voice in hollow murmurs broke. 
And fmote my heart with holy fear— 

The Genius of the Ruin fpoke. 

'^' From thee be far th' ungentle deed, 
" The honours, of the dead to fpoil, 

" Or take the fole remaining meed, 

" The flower that crowns their former toil J 

** Nor deem that flower the garden's foe, 
" Or fond to grace this barren (hade ; 

*♦ 'Tis Nature tells her to beftow 
** Her honours on the lonely dead, 

*' For this obedient Zephyrs bear 

" Her light feeds round yon turret's mold, 

*' And undifpers'd by tempefts there, 
*' They rife in vegetable gold. 

*' Nor fhall thy wonder wake to fee 
" Such defart fcenes diftinftion crave ; 

** Oft have they been, and oft (hall be 

" Truth's, Honour's, Valour's, Beauty's grave« 

" Where longs to fall that rifted fpire, 

*' As weary of th' infulting air ; 
*^* The poet's thought, the v/arrior's fire, 

" The lover's fighs are.lleeping there. 



*' When 



THE FABLES OF FLORA. 335 

<« When that too fliakes the trembling ground, 
*' Borne down by foine tempeftuous iky, 

*' And many a fiumb'ring cottage round 
" Startles — how ftill their hearts will lie! 

«' Of them who, wrapt in earth fo cold, 
*' No more the fmiling day fhall view, 

" Should many a tender tale be told; 
*' For many a tender thought is due. 

«' Haft thou not feen fome lover pale, 

" When evening brought the penfive hour, 

*' Step flovvly o'er the fhadowy vale, 

*' And ftop to pluck the frequent flower ? 

«* Thofe flowers he furely meant to ftrew 

" On loft afFeftion's lowly cell ; 
«* Though there, as fond remembrance grew, 

*' Forgotten, from his hand they fell, 

" Has not for thee the fragrant thorn 

" Been taught her firft rofe to refign ? 
«' With vain but pious fondnefs borne 

*rTo deck thy Nancy's honour'd flirine ? 

<^^ Tis Nature pleading in the breaft, 

" Fair memory of her works to find ; 
«* And when to fate flie yields the reft, 

" She claims the monumental mind. 



Z 2 " Why, 



540 LANGHORNE*S POEMS. 

" Why, elfe, the o'ergrown paths of time 
" Would thus the letter'd fage explore, 

«* With pain thefe crumbling ruins climb, 
*« And on the doubtful fculpture pore ? 

" Why feeks he with unwearied toil 

" Through death's dim walks to urge his way:^ 
«' Reclaim his long-aflerted fpoil, 

" And lead Oblivion into day ? 

*« 'Tis Nature prompts, by toil or fear 
♦' Unmov'd, to range thro' death's domain : 

•* The tender parent loves to hear 
*♦ Her childrens' ftory told again. 

•♦ Treat not with fcom his thoughtful hours, 
«* If haply near thefe haunts he ftray ; 

** Nor take the fair enlivening flowers 
'* That bloom to cheer his lonely way.'* 



FABLE VIII. 
THE TULIP AND THE MYRTLE* 

»rr^WA S on the border of a ftream 

"*• A gayly-palnted Tulip flood. 
And, gilded by the morning beam, 

Survey'd her beauties in the flood. 

And 

* This Fable was firft publiflied in a Colleftion of Letters, fup- 
pofed to have paflTed between St. Evremond and Waller. 



THE FABLES OF FLORA. 34.1 

And fure, more lovely to behold. 

Might nothing meet the wiftful eye. 
Than crimfon fading into gold. 

In ftreaks of faireft fymmetry. 

The beauteous flower, with pride elate, 
Ah me! that pride with beauty dwells ! 

Vainly afFefts fuperior flate. 
And thus in empty fancy fwells. 

*' O luflre of unrivall'd bloom ! 

*' Fair painting of a hand divine! 
** Superior far to mortal doom, 

*' The hues of heaven alone are mine I 

*' Away, ye worthlefs, formlefs race ! 

*' Ye weeds, that boaft the name of flowers 
*' No more my native bed difgrace, 

** Unmeet for tribes fo mean as yours I 

*' Shall the bright daughter of the fun 

" Affociate with the (hrubs of earth ? 
*' Ye flaves, your fovereign's prefence Ihun X 

" Refpeft her beauties and her birth. 

*' And thou, dull, fullen ever-green ! 

•*■ Shalt thou my (hining fphere invade 
•* My noon-day beauties beam unfeen, 

«« Obfcur'd beneath thy dufky (hade! " 



Z $ " Deluded 



34* LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

*' Deluded flower!" the Myrtle cries, 
" Shall we thy moment's bloora^ adore?, 

*' The meaneft fhrub that you defpife, 
** The meaneft flower has merit more* 

** That daify, in its firaple bloom, 
" Shall laft along the changing year ; 

*• Blufh on the fncw of winter's gloom, 
** And bid the fmiling fpring appear. 

" The violet, that, thofe banks beneath, 
*' Hides from thy fcorn its modeft head, 

«' Shall fill the air with fragrant breath, 
" When thou art in thy dufty bed. 

«' Ev'n I, who boaft no golden fhade, 
'* Am of no fhining tints poflefs'dj, 

«* When low thy lucid form is laid, 
*' Shall bloom on many a lovely breaft. 

«' And he, whofe kind and foftering care 
*' To thee, to me, our beings gave, 

«' Shall near his breaft my fiovvrets wear, 
«* And walk regardlefs o'er thy grave, 

•' Deluded flower, the friendly fcreen 

** That hides thee from the noon-tide ray^ 

«' And mocks thy paflion to be feen, 
*« Prolongs thy tranfitory day. 



But 



THE FABLES OF FLORA. 343 

'<" But kindly deeds with fcorn repaid, 

•' No more by virtue need be done : 
** I now withdraw my dufky fhade, 

" And yield thee to thy darling fun.'* 

Fierce on the flower the fcorching beam 

With all its weight of glory fell j 
The fl'ower exulting caught the gleam^ ' 

And lent its leaves a bolder fmell. 

Expanded by the fearching fire. 

The curling leaves the breaft difclos'd ; 

The mantling bloom was painted higher. 
And every latent charm expos 'd. 

But when the fun was Aiding low. 

And evening came, with dews fo cold j 
The wanton beauty ceas'd to blow. 

And fought her bending leaves to fold, 

Thofe leaves, alas ! no more would clofe ; 

Relax'd, exhaufted, fickening, pale; 
They left her to a parent's woes. 

And fled before the rifmg gale» 



FABT.E 



2H LANGHORNE'S POEMS* 

FABLE IX. 
THE BEE-FLO WER», 

COME, let us leave this painted plain j 
This wafte of flowers that palls the eye : 
The walks of Nature's wilder reign 
Shall pleafe in plainer Majefty. 

Through thofe fair fcenes, where yet (he owes 
Superior charms to Brockman's art. 

Where, crowned with elegant repofe. 
He cherifhes the focial heart — 

Through thofe fair fcenes we'll wander tvild. 
And on yon pafture-mountains reft j 

Come, brother dear ! come. Nature's child I 
With all her fimple virtues bleft. 



The 



* This is a fpecies of the Orchis, which is found in the barren 
and mountainous parts of Lincolnlhire, Worcefterfhire, Kent, and 
Hertfordfhire, Nature has formed a Bee apparently feeding on the 
bread of the flower with fo much exadnefs, that it is impoflible at a 
very fmall diftunce to diftinguifh the impofition. For this purpofe 
ihe has obferved an ceconomy different from what is found in mo 
other flowers, and has laid the petals horizontally. The genus of 
Jhe Orchis, or Satyrion, fhe feems profefiedly to have made ufe of 
for her paintings, and on tlie different fpecies has drawn the perfect 
forms of diiferent infefts, fuch a< Bees, Flies, Butterflies, &c. 



THE FABLES OF FLORA. 345 

The fun far-feen on difiant towers. 

And clouding groves and peopled feas. 

And ruins pale of princely bowers 

On Beach borough's airy heights fhall pleafe. 

Nor lifelcfs there the lonely fcene ; 

The little labourer of the hive. 
From flower to flower, from green to green. 

Murmurs, and makes the wild alive. 

See, on that flowret's velvet breafl 

How clofe the bufy vagrant lies ! 
His thin- wrought plume, his downy breaft,. 

The ambrofial gold that fwells his thighs ! 

Regardlefs, whilfl: we wander near. 

Thrifty of time, his tafk he plies ; 
Or fees he no intruder near. 

And refts in fleep his weary eyes. 

Perhaps his fragrant load may bind 

His limbs ; — we'll fet the captive free— 

I fought the living Bee to find. 
And found the pifture of a Bee. 

Attentive to our trifling felves. 

From thence we plan the rule of all ; 
Thus NA.TURE with the fabled elves 

We rank, and thefe her Sports we call. 



^ 



34-S EANGHOHNE'S P O E M 5, 

Be far, my friends, from you, from me, 
Th' unhallovv'd term, the thought profane. 

That Life's majestic source may be 
In idle fancy's trifling vein. 

Remember (till, 'tis Nature's plan 

Religion in your love to find^ 
And know, for this, (he firft in man 

Infpir'd the inaitative mind. 

As confcious that affeftion grows, 

Pleas'd with the pencil's mimic power*; 

That power with leading hand fhe fhews. 
And paints a Bee upon a flower, 

Mark, how that rooted mandrake wears 

His human feet, his human hands ! 
Gft, as his fhapely form he tears, 

Aghaft the frighted plowman Hands, 

See where, in yonder orient ftone. 

She feems ev'n with herfelf at ftrifCj 
While fairer from her hand is fhewn 

The piftur'd, than the native life. 

Helvetia's 

* The well known Fables of the Painter and Statuary that fell in 
love with objects of their own creation, plainly arofe from the idea of 
that attachment, which follows the imitation of agreeable objects, t.»- 
4he objedls imitated. 



THE FABLES OF FLOXA. 3-5^ 

Helvetia's rocks, Sabrina's wavesj 

Still many a fhining pebble bear. 
Where oft her ftudious hand engraves 

The perfect form and leaves it there. 

Olong, my Paxton*, boaftherart; 

And long her love of laws fulfil : 
To thee Ihe gave her hand and heart. 

To thee, her kindnefs and her Ikill I 



FABLE X. 
THE WILDING AND THE BROOM. 

IN yonder green wood blows the Broom ; 
Shepherds, we'll truft our flocks to ftray. 
Court nature in her fweeteft bloom. 
And fteal from care one fummer-day. 

From Him * whofe gay and graceful brow 
Fair-haiided Hume with rofes binds. 

We'll learn to breathe the tender vow. 
Where flow the fairy Foe.tha winds. 

And oh ! that He :|: whofe gentle breafl 

In nature's fofteft mould was made. 
Who left her fmiling works impreft 

In characters that cannot fade: 



That 



* An ingenious Portrait Painter in Ratlibone Place. 

•f William Hamilton of Bangour. 

X Thomson. 



^♦? LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

That he might leave his lowly (hrine. 
Though fofter there the Seafons fall-— 

They come, the fons of verfe divine. 
They come to fancy's magic call. 



-" What airy founds invite 



" My fteps not unreluftant, from the depth 

*• Of Skene's delightful groves? Repofing there 

•' No more I hear the bufy voice of men 

*' Far-toiling o'er the globe — fave to the call 

*' Of foul-exalting poetry, the ear 

" Of death denies attention. Rouz'd by her, 

*' The genius of fepulchral filence opes 

** His drowfy cells, and yields us to the day, 

** For thee, vvhofe hand, whatever paints the fpring, 

** Or fwells on fummer's breaft, or loads the lap 

** Of autumn, gathers heedful — Thee whofe rites 

*« At nature's fluine with holy care are paid 

*' Daily and nightly ; boughs of brighteft green, 

•' And every faireft rofe, the god of groves, 

** The queen of flowers, fhall fv/eeter fave for thee, 

•' Yet not if beauty only claim thy lay, 

*< Tunefully trifling. Fair philofophy, 

*< And nature's love, and every moral charm 

** That leads in fvveet captivity the mind 

" To virtue— ever in thy neareft cares 

*« Be thefe, and animate thy living page 

*« With truth refiftlefs, beaming from the fource 

*« Of perfefl light immortal — Vainly boafts 

*« That golden Broom its funny robe of flowers : 

2 " Fair 



THE FABLES OF FLORA. 349 

■^f Fair are the funny flowers ; but, fading foon 
" And fruitlefs, yield the forefter's regard 
*' To the well-loaded Wilding — Shepherd, there 
** Behold the fate of fong, and lightly deem 
<* Of all but moral beauty." 



Not 



I hear my Hamilton reply, 

(The torch of fancy in his eye) 

** 'Tis not in vain," I hear him fay, 

** That nature paints her works fo gay ; 

«* For, fruitlefs though that fairy broom, 

** Yet ftlll we love her lavifh bloom. 

*' Cheer'd with that bloom, yon defart wild 

" Its native horrors loft, and fmiled. 

** And oft we mark her golden ray 

" Along the dark wood fcatter day. 

** Of moral ufes take the ftrife; 
** Leave me the elegance of life. 
*' Whatever charms the ear or eye 
" All beauty and all harmony ; 
«' If fweet fenfations thefe produce, 
** 1 know they have their moral ufe. 
*' I know that Nature's charms can move 
** The fprings that ftrike to Virtue's love,'* 



FABLE 



250 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

FABLE XI. 

THE MISLETOE AND THE PASSION-FLOWER, 

T N this dim cav-e a druid fleeps, 
"*■ Where flops the paffing gale to moan ; 
The rock he hollow'd, o'er him weeps. 
And cold droj)SAvear the fretted ftone. 

In this dim cave, of different creed. 

An hermit's holy afhes refl : 
The fchool-boy finds the frequent bead. 

Which many a formal matin bleft. 

That truant-time full well I knovr. 

When here I brought, in flolen hour. 
The druid's magic Milletoe, 

The holy hermit's Paffion-flowex. 

The offerings on the myftic flone 

Penfive I laid, in thought profound. 
When from the cave a deep'ning groan 

Iffued^ and froze me to the ground, 

J hear it flill — Dofl thou not hear? 

Does not thy haunted fancy flart ? 
The found flill vibrates thro' mine ear — 

The horror rufhes on my heart. 

Unlike 



THfE FABLES OF FLORA. jjt 

XJnllke to living founds it came, 

Unmix'd, unmelodiz'd with breath ; 
But, grinding thro' fome fcrannel frame, 

Creak'd from' the bony lungs of death, 

I hear it ftill— " Depart," it cries ; 

" No tribute bear to fhades unblefl : 
•** Know, here a bloody druid lies, 

*' Who was not mirfed at Nature's breafl-, 

^' AfTociate he with daemons dire, 

" O'er human vidims held the knife, 
*' And pleas^'d to fee the babe expire, 

•' Smil'd grimly o'er its quivering life, 

^' Behold his crimfon-ftreaming hand 

" Eredl! — his dark, fix 'd, murderous eye!" 

In the dim cave 'I faw him ftand ; 
And my heart died — I felt it die, 

I fee him ftill— Doft thou not fee 

The haggard eye-ball's hollow glare? 
And gleams of wild ferocity 

Dart through the fable fliade of hair ? 

What meagre form behind him moves. 

With eye that rues th' invading day ; 
And wrinkled afpeft wan, that proves 

The mind to pale remorfe a prey ? 



What 



35* LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

What wretched — Hark — the voice replies, 
" Boy, bear thefe idle honours hence I 

«* For, here a guiky hermit lies, 
*' Untrue to Nature, Virtue, Senfe. 

*' Though Nature lent him powers to aid 
** The moral caufe, the mutual weal ; 

«' Thofe powers he funk in this dim fhadc, 
** The defperate fuicide of zeal. 

<* Go, teach the drone of faintly haunts, 
*' Whofe ceirs the fepulchre of time ; 

«« Though many a holy hymn he chaunts, 
*• His life is one continued crime. 

«' And bear them hence, the plant, the flower 3 
•' N<9 fymbols thofe of fyftems vain ! 

«< They have the duties of their hour^ 
"«« Some bird fome infeft to fuftain." 



1 



OWEN 



[ 3S3 ] 



OWEN OP C A R R O N. 



^^ N Carron's Side the prlmrofe pale, 
^"^ Why does it wear a purple hue ? 
Ye Maidens fair of Mar li vale. 

Why ftream your eyes with Pity's dew ? 

^Tis all with gentle Owen's Blood 
That purple grows the Primrofe pale ; 

That Pity pours the tender Flcwd 

From each fair Eye in Marlivai.t, 

The evening ftar fate in his eye. 
The fun his golden treffes gave. 

The North's pure morn her orient dye. 
To him who refts in yonder grave I 

Beneath no high, hiftoric ftone. 

Though nobly born, is Ow e n laid., 

Stretch"d on the green wood's lap alone. 
He fleeps beneath the waving fliade. 

There many a flowry race hath fprung. 
And fled before the mountain gale. 

Since firft his fimple dirge he fung ; 
Ye maidens fair of Marlival-i. ! 

VcL.LXXI. •■ ■• A « 



354 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Yet ftill, when May with fragrant feet 
Hath wander'd o'er your meads of gold. 

That dirge I hear fo fimply fweet 
Far echo'd from each evening fold, 

11. 

'Twas in the pride of William's * da)'. 
When Scotland's honours flourifh'd lliUa 

That Moray's Earl, with mighty fway. 
Bore rule o'er many a Highland hill. 

And far for him their fruitful {lore 

The fairer plains of Carron fpread; 
In fortune rich, in offspring poor. 

An only daughter crown'd his bed. 

Oh ! write not poor — the Wealth that flows 
In waves of gold round India's throne. 

All in her fnining Breaft that glows. 

To Eli.e«'s + charmsj were earth and fione. 

For her the Youth of Scotland f.gh'd. 

The Fr E N c H M a N gay, the Spaniard gra\e, 

A^nd fmoother Italy applied. 

And many an English Baron brave. 

In 

* William the Lyon, king of Scotland. 
•f- The Lady Ellen, only Daughter of John Earl of Moray^ 
betrothed to the Earl of Nithifdale, and afterwards to the Earl 
Barnard, was efteemed one of the fineft Women in Europe, in- 
fomuch that fhe had leveral Suitors, and Admireis in Foreign 
Courts. 



OWEN OF C A R R N. 555 

In vain by foreign arts aflail'd 

No foreign loves her breaft beguile. 
And England's honeft valour fail'd. 

Paid with a cold, but courteous fmile, 

** Ah! vi^oe to thee, young Nithisdale, 
" That o'er thy chedc thofe rofes ftray'd, 

•' Thy breath, the violet of the vale, 
" Thy voice, the mufic of the fliade ! 

-' Ah! woe to thee, that Ellen's love 

" Alone to thy foft tale would yield ! 
*' For foon thofe gentle arms fliall provs 

" The Confiia of a ruder field." 

"Twas thus a v/ayvvard Sifter fpoke. 

And caft a rueful glance behind. 
As from her dim wood-glen fhe broke, 

And mounted on the moaning wind. 

She fpoke and vanifh'd, — more unniov'd 
Than Moray's rocks, when ftorms inveii. 

The valiant Youth by Ellen lov'd 
With aught that Fear, or Fate fuggeft. 

For Love, methinks, hath power to raife 

The Soul beyond a vulgar ftate ; 
Th'iinconquer'd banners he difplays 

Control our fears and fix our fate. 

A a z m. 



356 LANGHORNE'S POEMS, 

III. 

'Twas when, on Summer's fofteft eve. 

Of clouds that wander"d weft away. 
Twilight with gentle hand did weave 

Her fairy robe of night and day. 

When all the mountain gales were ftill. 

And the waves flept againft the fliore. 
And the Sun, funk beneath the hill. 

Left his laft fmile on Lemmermore *. 

Led by thofe waking dreams of thought 
That warm the young unpradis'd breaft. 

Her wonted bower fweet Ellen fought. 

And Carron murmur 'd near, and footh'd her 
into Reft, 

IV. 

There is fome kind and courtly Sprite 

That o'er the realm of Fancy reigns. 
Throws funftiine on the ma(k of Night, 

And fmiles at Slumber's powerlefs chains ; 

•Tis told, and I believe the Tale, 

At this foft hour that Sprite was there. 

And fpread with fairer flowers the vale. 
And fill'd with fweeter founds the air. 

A Bower 

^ A Chain of Mouatain s running through Scotland from Eaft toWcft, 



OWEN OF CAR RON. 357 

A Eower he fram'd (for he could frame 
What long might weary mortal Wight : 

Swift as the Lightning's rapid flame 
Darts on the unfufpedling fight.) 

Such bower he fram'd with magic Hand, 

As well that wizard Eard hath wove. 
In fcenes where fair Armida's wand 

Wav'd all the witcheries of Love. 

Yet was it wrought in fimple {hew ; 

Nor Indian mines nor Orient fnores 
Had lent their glories here to glow. 

Or yielded here their fliining ftores. 

All round a Poplar's trembling arms 

The Wild Rofe wound her damafk flower ; 

The Woodbine lent her fpicy charms. 
That loves to weave the lover's bower. 

The Afli, that courts the Mountain-air, 

In all her painted blooms array "d. 
The Wilding's bloflbm blufliing fair, 

Combin'd to form the flov/ery fliade. 

With Thyme that loves the brown hill's breaft. 

The Cowflip's fweet, reclining head. 
The Violet of fky-woven veil. 

Was all the Fairy ground befpread, 

A a 3 But, 



358 LANGHORNE'S POEMS, 

But, who is he, whofe locks fo fair 
Adovvn his manly fhoulders flow ? 

Befide him lies the hunter's Spear, 
Befide him fleeps the Warrior's Bow. 

Ke bends to Ellen — (gentle Sprite, 
Thy fvveet feduftive arts forbear) 

He courts her arms with fond delight. 
And ioftant vanifhes in air. 

V. 
Haft thou not found at early dawn 

Some foft Ideas melt away. 
If o'er fvveet vale, or flow'ry lawn. 

The Sprite of dreams hath bid thee ftray ? 

Ilafl: thou not fome fair Objeft feen. 
And, when the fleeting form was paft^ 

Still on thy Memory found its mien. 
And felt the fond Idea laft ? 

Thou haft — and oft the piftur'd view. 
Seen in fome vifion counted vain. 

Has ftruck thy wond'ring eye anew. 
And brought the long-loft dream again.' 

With Warrior-bow, with Hunter's fpear. 
With locks adown his fhoulder fpread. 

Young NiTHisDALE IS ranging near — 
He's ranging near yon' mountain's head. 



Scarce 



OWEN OF CARRON. 35^ 

Scarce had one pale Moon pafs'd away. 

And fiird her filver urn again. 
When in the devious chace to firay. 

Afar from all his woodland train. 

To Carron's banks his Fate confign'd ; 

And, all to fhun the fervid hour. 
He fought fome friendly fliade to find. 

And found the vifionary bower, 

VI. 

Led by the golden Star of Love, 

Sweet Ellen took her wonted way. 
And in the deep-defending grove 

Sought refuge from the fervid day— 

Oh I — Who is he whofe ringlets fair, 

Diforder'do'er his green veft flow, 
Reclin'd in reft — whofe funny hair 

Half hides the fair cheek's ardent glow ? 

'Tis he, that Sprite's illuiive gueft, 

(Ah me! that Sprites can Fate control!) 

That lives ftill imag'd on her breaft. 
That lives ftill pidur'd in her foul. 

As when fome gentle Spirit fled 

From earth to breathe Elyfian air. 
And in the train whom we call dead. 

Perceives its long-Iov'd partner there j 

A a 4 Soft 



37,6 lANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Soft fudden Pleafure rufhes o'er 

Refifdefs, o'er its airy Frame, 
To find its future Fate reftore 

The objeft of it"s former flame.- 

So Ellen Hood— lefs power to move 
Had he, who, bound in Slumber's chain, 

Seem'd haply, o'er his hills to rove. 
And wind his Woodland chace again. 

She uood, but trembled — mingled Fear, 
And fond Delight and melting Love 

Seiz'd all her Soul ; (he came not near. 
She came not near that fated grove. 

She ftrives to fly — from Wizzard's Wand 
As well might povverlefs captive fly — 

The new cropt flower falls from her hand— 
Ah ! fall not with that flower to die! 

VII. 

Haft thou not feen fome azure gleam 
Smile in the Morning's orient eye. 

And fkirt the reddening cloud's foft beam 
What time the Sun was hailing nigh ? 

Thou haft — and thou canft fancy well 
As any Mufe that meets thine ear. 

The Soul-fet eye of Nithisdale, 
When wak'd, it fix'd on Ellen near. 



Silent 



OWEN OF CARRON. 3^1 

Silent they gaz'd — that filence hroke ; 

'* Hail Goddefs of thefe groves, he cry'd, 
*' O let me wear thy gentle yoke ! 

" O let me m thy fervice bide! 

" For Thee P'll climb the mountain fteep, 

*' Unwearied chafe the deftin'd prey^ 
*' For thee I'll pierce the wild wood deep, 

*' And part the fprays that vex thy way." 

For thee — " O flranger, ceafc," fhe faid^, 
And fwift away, like Daphne, flew,- 

But Daphxi's flight was not delay'd. 
By aught that to her bofom grevv". 

'Twas At ALA NT A 's golden fruit. 

The fond Idea that confind 
Fair Ellen's fteps, and blefs'd his fuit^, 

Who was not far, not far behind. 

viir. 

O Love! within thofe golden vales, 
Thofe genial airs where thou v/aft born, 

Where nature, liftening thy foft tales. 
Leans on the rofy breaft of Morn. 

Where the fvveet Smiles, the Graces dwell. 

And tender fighs the heart emove. 
In filent eloquence to tell 

Thy tale, O foul-fubduing Lcve ! 

Ah! 



36a LANGHORNE'S POEMS, 

Ah! wherefore fliould grim Rage be nigh. 
And dark Diftruft, with changeful face. 

And Jealoufy's reverted eye 

Be near thy fair, thy favour'd place ? 

IX, 

Earl Barnard was of high degree. 
And lord of many a lowland hind ; 

And long for Ellen love had He, 
Had love, but not of gentle kind. 

From Moray's halls her abfent hour 
He watch'd with all a mifer's care ; 

The wide domain, the princely dower 
Made Ellen more than Ellen fair. 

Ah wretch ! to think the liberal foul 
May thus with fair affeftion part ! 

Though Lothian's vales thy fway controul. 
Know, Lothian is not worth one heart. 

Studious he marks her abfent hour. 

And, winding far where Carron flows. 

Sudden he fees the fated bower. 

And red rage on his dark brow glows. 

For who is He? — 'Tis Nithisdale ! 

And that fair form with arm reclin'd 
On his ?— 'Tis Ellen of the vale, 

'Tis flie (O powers of vengeance!) kind. 



Should 



OWEN OF CARRON. -63 

Should He that Vengeance fwift purfue ? 

No — that would all his hopes deftroy 5 
Moray would vani(h from his view. 

And rob him of a mifer's joy. 

Unfeen to Moray's halls he hies— 

He calls his fiaves, his ruffian band, 
*' And, hafte to yonder groves," he cries, 

" And ambufh'd lie by Carron's ftrand, 

*' What time ye mark from bower or glen 

" A gentle lady take her way, 
«' To diftance due, and far from ken, 

'* Allow her length of time to ftray. 

*• Then ranfack firaight that range of groves.-=. 

" With hunter's fpear, and veft of green : 
*' If chance a rofy {tripling roves, — 

" Ye well can aim your arrows keen." 

And now the ruffian flaves are nigh. 
And Ellen takes her homeward way ; 

Though ftay'd by many a tender figh. 
She can no longer, longer flay. 

Penfive, againft yon Poplar pale 

The Lover leans his gentle heart. 
Revolving many a tender tale. 

And wond'ring lliJJ how they could part, 

Thre« 



56^ LANGHORNE'S POEMS, 

Three arrows pierc'd the defert air. 
Ere yet his tender dreams depart ; 

And one ftruck deep his forehead fair. 
And one went through his gentle heart. 

Love's waking dream is loft in fleep — 
He lies beneath yon Poplar pale ! 

Ah ! could we marrel ye fhould weep; 
Ye maidens fair of Marlivale I 

X. 

When all the mountain gales were ftill. 
And the wave flept againft the fliore. 

And the Sun, funk beneath the hill. 
Left his laft fmile on L e m m e r m o r e ; 

Sweet Ellen takes her wonted way 
Along the fairy- featur'd vale : 

Bright o'er his wave does Carron play. 
And foon (he'll meet her Nithisdale. 

She'll meet him foon — for at her fight 
Swift as the mountain deer he fped ; 

The evening (hades will fink in night, — 
Where art thou, loitering lover, fied ? 

O ! (he will chide thy trifling (lay. 

E'en now the foft reproach fhe frames : 

*' Can lovers brook fuch long delay ? 
** Lovers that boaft of ardent flames !" 



He 



OWEN OF CAR RON, -^s 

He comes not — weary with the chace. 

Soft fluinber o'er his eyelids throws 
Her veil — we'll (leal one dear embrace. 

We'll gently fieal on his repofe. 

This is the bower — we'll foftly tread — 

He fleeps beneath yon Poplar pale — 
Lover, if e'er thy heart has bled. 

Thy heart will far forego my tale ! 

XL 

EiLEN IS not in princely bower. 
She's not in Moray's fplendid train; 

Their miftrcfs dear, at midnight hour. 
Her weeping maidens feek in vain. 

Her pillow fwells not deep with down ; 

For her no baJms their fweets exhale : 
Her limbs are on the pale turf thrown, 

Prefs'd by her lovely cheek as pale. 

On that fair cheek, that flowing hr.ir, 

The broom it's yellow leaf hatr-. Tned, 
And the chill mountain's early air 

BJows wildly o'er her beauteous head. 

As the foft ftar of Orient day. 

When clouds invohe his rofy light. 
Darts through the gloom a tranfient ray. 

And leaves the world once more to night ; 

Jletnrning 



367 LANGHORNE'S POEMS, 

Keturning life illumes her eye. 

And flow its languid orb unfolds— 
What are thofe bloody arrows nigh ? 

Sure, bloody arrows fhe beholds ! 

What was that form fo ghaftly pale. 

That low beneath tbe Poplar lay ?— 
Twas fome poor youth — " Ah Nithisdale!" 

She faid, and filent funk away. 

XII. 
The morn is on the mountains fpread. 

The Wood-lark trills his liquid ftrain— 
^Can morn's fweet mufic roufe the dead? 
Give the fet eye it's foul again ? 

A Ihepherd of that gentler mind 

Which Nature not profufely yields, 
: Seeks in thefe lonely fliades to find 
Some wanderer from his little fields. 

i-gbafl: he ftands — and Cmple fear 
O'er all his paly vifage glides— 
'«' Ah me ! what means this mifery here? 
** What fate this lady fair betides !" 

He bears her to his friendly home. 

When life, he finds, has but retir'd ;— 
"With hade he frames the lover's tomb, 
i For his is quite, is quite expir'd ! 

^ A xiir. 



OWEN OF CAR RON. -^Gi 

XIII. 
^' O hide me in thy humble bower," 

Returning late to life, ftie faid ; 
*« I'll bind thy crook with many a flower ; 

«' With many a rofy wreath th)' head, 

-*£ Good fliepherd, hafte to yonder grove, 

" And, if my Love afleep is laid, 
-^' Oh ! wake him not ; but foftly move 

" Some pillow to that gentle head. 

** Sure, thon wilt know him, fhepherd fvvain^. 

" Thou know'ft the Sun rife o'er the fea— 
** But oh I no lamb in all thy train 

" Was e'er {o mild, fo mild as he." 

** His head is on the Wood-mofs laid ; 

** I did not wake his flumber deep — 
«« Sweet fing the Redbreaft o'er the fhade— 

" Why, gentle lady, would you weep ?" 

As flowers that fade in burning day, 

At evening find the dew-drop dear. 
But fiercer feel the noon-tide ray. 

When foften'd by the nightly tear .; 

Returning in the flowing tear. 

This lovely flower, more fweet than they, 
.'Found her fair foul, and wand 'ring near. 

The ftranger, Reafon, crofs'd her way, % 



368 LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

Found her fair Soul — Ah ! fo to find 
Was but more dreadful grief to know ! 

Ah! fure, the privilege of mind 
Can not be worth the vvilh of woe ! 

XIV. 
On Melancholy's filent urn 

A fofter fhade of forrow falls. 
But Ellen can no more return. 

No more return to Moray's halli. 

Beneath the low and lonely {hade 

The flow-confuming hour fhe'll weep. 

Till Nature feeks her laft-Ieftaid, 
In the fad, fombrous arras of Heep. 

<^* Thefe jewels, all unmeet for me, 

" Shalt thou," Ihe faid, " good fhepherd, take; 
-<• Thefe gems will purchafe gold for thee, 

" And thefe be thine for Ellen's fake, 

^- So fail thou not, at eve and morn, 

•' The Rofemary's pale bough to bring — 

«' Thou know "ft where I was found forlorn — 
•♦ Where thou haft heard the Redbreaft fmg, 

■•^' Heedful I'll tend thy flocks the while, 

" Or aid thy fhepherdefs's care, 
*= For I will fhare her humble toil, 
■"^ And I her friendly roof will fliarc/* 
^ ,- XV 



OWENOFCARRON. jfij 

XV. 

And now two longfome years are paQ: 

In luxury of lonely pain— 
The lovely mouruer, found at lafl. 

To Moray's halls is borne again. 

Yet has (he left one objefi: dear. 

That wears Love's funny eye of joy— • 
Is NiTHiSDALE reviving here ? 

Or is it but a (hepherd's boy ? 

By Carron's fide, a fhepherd's boy. 
He binds his vale-flowers with the reed : 

-tic wears Love's funny eye of joy. 
And birth he little feems to heed, 

XVI. 

But ah I no more his infant fleep 

Clofes beneath a mother's fmile. 
Who, only when it clos'd, would weep. 

And yield to tender woe the while. 

No more, with fond attention dear. 

She feeks th'unfpoken wifh to find ; 
No more Ihall ftie, with Pleafure's tear. 

See the foul waxing into mind. 

Vol, LXXI. B b XVII, 



37» LANGHORNE'S POEMS; 

XVII. 

Does Nature bear;a tyrant's breaft ? 

Is flie the friend of ftern controul ? 
Wears (he the Defpot*s purple veft ? 

Or fetters fhe the free-born foul? 

Where, worfl: of tyrants, is thy claim 
In chains thy childrens' breafls to bind? 

Gav'ft thou the Promethean flame ? 
The incommunicable mind ? 

Thy oiFsprlng are great Nature's^ — free. 
And of her fair dominion heirs ; 

Each privilege fhe gives to thee ; 
Know, that each privilege is theirs. 

They have thy feature, wear thine eye. 
Perhaps fome feelings of thy heart ; 

And wilt thou their lov.'d hearts deny 
To ad their fair, their proper part ? 

XVIII. 

The Lord of Lothian's fertile vale. 
Ill-fated Ellen, claims thy hand ; 

Thou know 'ft not that thy Nithisdale 
Was low laid by bis ruffian-band, 



And 



OWENOFCARRON. ^71 

And Moray, with unfather'd eyes, 

Fix'd on fair Lothian's fertile dale. 
Attends his human facriiice. 

Without the Grecian painter's veil. 

O married Love ! thy bard fhall own. 

Where two congenial fouls unite. 
Thy golden chain inlaid with down. 

Thy lamp with heaven's own fplendour bright. 

But if no radiant ftar of Love, 

O Hymen ! fmile on thy fair rite. 
Thy chain a wretched weight (hall prove. 

Thy lamp a fad fepulchral light. 

XIX. 
And now has Time's flow wandering wing 

Borne many a year unmark'd with fpeed— 
Where is the boy by Carron's fpring. 

Who bound his vale-flowers with the reed ?' 

Ah me ! thofe flowers he binds no more ; 

No early charm returns again ; 
The parent Nature keeps in ftore 

Her befl: joys for her little train. 

No longer heed the Sun-beam bright 
That plays on Carron's bread he can, 

Reafon has lent her quiv'ring light,_ 
And flaewn the checquer'd field of man, 

B b 2 ^X, 



37» LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 



XX. 

As the firft human heir of earth 
With penfive ^ye himfelf furvey'd. 

And, all unconfcious of his birth. 
Sate thoughtful oft in Eden's fliadc 

In penfive thought fo Owen ftray'd 
Wild Carron''s lonely woods among. 

And once, within their greeneft glade. 
He fondly fram'd this fimple fong. 

XXI. 

Why is this crook adorn'd with gold-? 
Why am I tales of ladies told ? 
Why does no labour me employ. 
If I am but a fhepherd's boy ? 

A filken veil like mine fo green 
In fhepherd's hut I have not feen— « 
Why fhould I in fuch vefture joy 
If I am but a fhepherd's boy ? 

I know it is no fhepherd's art 
His written meaning to impart— 
They teach me, fure, an idle toyj 
If I am but a fhepherd's boy. 



This 



OWEN OF CAR RON. 373 

This bracelet bright that binds my arm- 
It could not come from fhepherd's farm; 
It only would that arm annoy. 
If I were but a fhepherd's boy. 

And, O thou filent piflure fair, 
Thatlov'ft to fmile upon me there, 
O fay, and fill my heart with joy. 
That I am NOT a fhepherd's boy. 

xxir. 

Ah lovely youth ! thy tender lay 

May not thy gentle life prolong: 
See"fl: thou yon Nightingale a prey ? 

The fierce Hawk, hovering o'er his fong ? 

His little heart is large with love : 

He fweetly hails his evening ftar. 
And Fate's more pointed arrows move, 

Infidious, from his eye afar, 

XXIII. 
The fhepherdefs, whofe kindly care 

Had watch'd o'er Owen's infant breathy 
Muft now THEIR filent manfions fhare. 

Whom Time leads calmly down to death. 

«' O tell me, parent if thou art, 

" What is this lovely pifture dear ? 
*» Why wounds its mournful eye my heart, 

*♦ Why flows from mine th'unbidden tear ? 

B b 3 *' Ahl 



.374- LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

*• Ah! youth ! to leave thee loth am I, 
•' Though I be not thy parent dear; 

«* And would 'ft thou wifh, or ere I die, 
*' The ftory of thy birth to hear ? 

" But it will make thee much bewail, 
♦* And it will make thy fair eye fwell — " 

She faid, and told the woefome tale. 
As footh as fhepherdefs might tell. 

XXIV. 

The heart, that Sorrow doom'd to fhare. 
Has worn the frequent feal of woe. 

Its fad impreffions learns to bear. 
And finds, full oft, its ruin flow. 

But when that feal is firfl: impreft. 

When the young heart its pain fhall trj',. 

From the foft, yielding, trembling breaft. 
Oft feems the ftartled foul to fly. 

Yet fied not Owen's — wild amaze 
In palenefs cloath'd, and lifted hands,; 

And Horror's dread unmeaning gaze, 
Mark the poor ftatue, as it ftands. 

The fimple guardian of his life 

Look'd wiftful for the tear to glide ; 

But, when fhe faw his tearlefs ftrife. 
Silent, {he lent him one— and died,- 



XXV, 



OWENOFCARRON. 375 



XXV. 

" No, I am not a fhepherd's boy," 

Awaking from his dream, he faid, 
** Ah where is now the promis'd joy 

** Of this ? — for ever, ever fled I 

'* O pidlure dear ! — for her lov'd fake 
*' How fondly could my heart bewail i 

" My friendly fhepherdefs, O wake, 
•* And tell rae more of this fad tale, 

f O tell me more of this fad tale— 

** No ; thou enjoy thy gentle fleep ! 
** And I will go to Lothian's Vale, 

*' And more than all her waters weep.'* 

XXVI. 

Owen to Lothian's Vale is fied^ 
Earl Barnard's lofty towers appear— 

f< O ! art thou there," the full heart faid, 
** O ! art thou there, my parent dear ?" 

Yes, fhe is there : from idle ftate 

Oft has fhe ftole her hour to weep ; 
Think how fhe " by thy cradle fate," 

And how fhe " fondly faw thee fleep *." 

? Seethe ancienj Scottifh Ballad, called Gm, Morrjce. 

B b 4 Now 



376 LANGHORNE'S POEMS', 

Kow tries his trembling hand to frame 
Full many a tender line of love ; 

And ftill he blots the parent's name. 
For that, he fears, might fatal prove, 

XXVII. 
b'er a fair fountain's fmiling fide 

Reclin'd a dim tower, clad with mofs. 
Where every bird was wont to bide. 

That langaiih'd for it's partner's lofs. 

This fcene he chofe, this fcene affign'd 
A parent's firft embrace to wait. 

And many a foft fear fill'd his mind. 
Anxious for his fond letter's fate. 

The hand ii^t bore thofe lines of love. 
The well-informing bracelet bore — 

Ah ? may they not unprofperous prove 1 
Ah! fafely pafs yon dangerous door ! 

XXVIII. 

*• She comes not ; — can fhe then delay ?'* 
Cried the fair youth, and dropt a tear — » 

** Whatever filial love could fiiy, 

*• To her I faid, and call'd her dear. 

" She comes — Oh ! No— encircled round 
*• Tis fome rude chief with many a fpear, 

«• My haplefs tale that earl has found — 
*' Ahmc! my heart !— for her I fear." 



Hit 



OWEN OF CARRON, 377 

His tender tale that earl had read. 

Or ere it reach'd his lady's eye. 
His dark brow wears a cloud of red. 

In rage he deems a rival nigh. 

XXIX. 

'Tis o'er — thofe locks that wav'd in gold. 
That wav'd adown thofe cheeks fo fair, 

Wreath'd in the gloomy tyrant's hold. 
Hang from the fever'd head in air : 

That ftreaming head he joys to bear 
In horrid guife to Lothian's halls 5 

Bids his grim ruffians plaee it there, 
Ered upon the frowning walls. 

The fatal tokens forth he drew — 

" Know'ft thou thefe — Ellen of the Vale ?^ 
The piftur'd bracelet foon fhe knew. 

And foon her lovely cheek grew pale. — 

The trembling viftim, ftraight he led. 

Ere yet her foul's firft fear was o'er ; 
He pointed to the ghaftly head — 

She faw — and funk to rife no more. 



END OF VOL. LXXI. 



C O N T E N 



LANGHORNE'S POEMS. 

"> O the Honourable Charles Yorke. Page 121 
Sonnet to Mr, Laxghorne, by John Scott, 



Efq; 


122 


Proemium « ■ • 


123 


Hymn to Hope 


124 


Genius and Valour. A Paftoral Poem 


130 


The Vifions of Fancy, in four Elegies 


143 


Poem to the Memory of Handel 


150 


The Enlargement of the Mind, in two parts 


156 


Ode to the River Eden 


171 


"Pq **** *»*»*»«» 




Autumnal Elegy - • 


174- 


On Recovery from Sicknefs - 


177 


The Complaint of the Ring- Dove 


179 


Sonnet in the manner of Petrarch 


181 


Lines wrapped round a Nofegay 


182 


Lines on the Lady's Anfwer 


183 


Written in a Colledion of Maps - 


184 




Theo- 



CONTENTS. 

Theodofius to Conftantia - iS^ 

Elegy - - - - 187 

Infcription on the Door of a Study - 189 

To Lord Graxby - - 190 

Monody - - - . i94- 

To Mrs. on the Death of a Friend igS 

To Mrs. GiLLMAN - - 197 

Fragment ; on the King's AccelTion - 1 98 

Cjefar's Dream - - 200 

Infcription in a Temple of Society 203 

in a fequefter'd Grotto 205 

Another in the fame Grotto - * 206 

Left with the Minifter of Riponden 207 

Written among the Ruins of Pontefrad Caftle 208 

Fragment - - - 21s 

Translations. The Death of Adonis 214 

Happinefs of a moderate Fortune 

221 

From Petrarch - 225 — 8 

From Catullus - 229 

Monody, fung by a Red-Breaft - 230 

To a Red-Breaft - - 232 

Ode to the Genius of Weftmorland 233 

Hymn to Plutus - - « 234 

Hymn to Humanity • - 237 

3 Epifde 



C ON TENTS. 

Epiftle to Mr. R. - - 241 

To a Lady - » • 242 

Monody— To Mr. J. S. . 243 

Imitations of Waller. - 246 

The Duchefs of Mazari NE - 24S 

The Viceroy - - 252 

Precepts of Conjugal Happinefs - 260 
In Memory of a Lady - - .-266 

The Origin of the Veil - - 270 

The Country J uftice, in three parts 278 
Milton's Italian Poems, tranllated - 308 

The Fables of Flora - - 316 

Owen of Carron . - 3^3 



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