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^ 



F34- 



/ 



/ 






THE * 



POETICAL WORKS 



OF 



JOHN MILTON;/ 



■••• /'/ 



COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. 



^i0i^mm0mmmmm0m 



Three Poets in three distaat ago bora, 
Gveece, Italy, and England did adam ; 
Tbe first in lohineM of thou^t sarpaM'd, 
The next in digDi^, in both die laat. 
The Cnroe of natoie cooM no fiurtlier go 
To make a third, ahe Join'd tiie Conner twoi. 

DRTOB.N* 



Im0t0i0i^mi^immm0i0>0t0^i0<m^'^mi0*0i0m 



LONDON : 
PUBLISHED BY JONES & COMPANY 

3, ACTON PLACE, KINGSLAND ROAD* 

1824. 



(, 



CONTENTS. 



Bagt 
1 



6 
13 
18 
S5 
31 
37 
41 
45 
63 
60 
66 
77 
81 
84 
87 
91 
98 

109 
110 



PAKABISB LOST, Book I. . . 

BookU. . . 

BooklU. . . 

Book IV. . . 

BookV. . . 

BookVI. . . 

BookVII. 

Book VIII. . . 

BooklX. . . 

Book X. 

Book XI. 

BookXII. . . 
FABADISE REGAINED, Book I. . 

Book II. . 
Book III. . 
Bo(diIV. . 

CoBni8,aMs* 

SaiDMn AgooiMet 

POEMS. 

L'Allagro 

BFttiKrow 

On fbe Death efa fiyx iBGnt, djlngaf aConflto 111 
AtaVacatiimEaBOlnliitiieCoU«iB . ib> 

OnOwMoRiiagaraiilanNatfvil? . • 'US 

OJIIIU ,•.•<•.•• "^ 

ThePaayon 1^^ 

OuTttne ^ 

Opon the Cbcnmddan lh> 

AtatolenmMiHic 113 

AnEpicaFhontiieMaicbioDenofWfaMbeMer lb* 

Song— On M^ SConfaig . ... lb. 

On Shakspeaxe ib. 

On the UniTcni^ Canier . . . . ib. 

On the lame 116 

A>cai)et ib. 

I<ycidas 117 

OnlhenevFccoen ofGonadaMe andsr the 

long Parliament .... 118 

OntfaeflttiOdeofHonoe,Lib.I.Eng|Uhed lb. 

SONNETS. ' 

TotheNI^aairie ... . . IIS 



to4n UabeiiiganiTedat the Ageof twes^'thxee 119 
WhendieAaMultvaainleiidedtotheGI^ ib. 

To a flrtoous 5oang Ledj Ib. 

ToLadyMatgatetLqr ib. 

On the DetEaetion wbidb fidkmed on m; writ- 
ing certain Treatise* . . . . ib. 

Ontheaame 120 

To Mr. Lawes, on his Ain . . . . ib. 
On tiie Beli^Diis MenMry of Mrs. Catharine 

Thomson ib. 

To die Lord Genoal Fair&z . . . ib. 
To the Iiod General Cromwell . db. 

Te Sir Henry Vane the Toanger . . . ib. 
Ondie late Maancre in Pfedmont • 121 

^^CihisBlindneu ....... ib. 

To Mr. Lawrence ib. 

Topyzlac Sktamer ib. 

i;V^ibesanie ib. 

OnhlsdeoeaaedWife ib. 



PSALMS. 




1S2 

ib. 

ib. 

ib. 

ib. 
123 

ib. 

ib- 



LXXX. 124 

.LXXXI lb. 

.LXXXII. 125 

.LXXXIII. . " fl>* 

.LXXXIV. »• 

.LXXZV. 1*6 

• LXZXVI. **»• 

■ LXXXVII *27 

.L xxxvm «»• 

.CXIV. APanpluMean . . . ib. 

.CXXXyi. .... 1*8 



22164S 



THE 



LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 



FROM a fimifly and town of hi« name In OdM* 
Alttt our mOordnived Idsdctooit; but be vas 
bora at London, in tberjcar IflOS. His fiKdiar, 
John Milton, bj proftwliwi a Mtivens, lived in a 
wi|mijihl[p "**'*"*F on a coniiwtcnt estate, entixely 
his Qiwn acqBirition, baling been eariy disinherited 
hf liis paicnts fiar fenoundng the oonununion of 
fbe thwcdx of BonSf to wliidt tbej veze zealously 
devoted* 

Onr author was tlie fitvooiite of hisfiithei^lippeB, 
irliop to coitlTsSe tlie jjieatfleniiis wliidi early dis> 
played itseli^ vas at the expense of a domestic 
tutor; wbose caxe and capacity liis pupil liath 
giat^AilIy eetebnted in an eicelient Ladn elegy. 
Atbie initlatim be is said to have applied liimsdf 
to letters vith sodi. indelatigable bidnstiy, that 
be las^ was pievailed upon to quit his studies 
befate mWnlght; whidi not only made him fk«- 
quently sutgect to severe pains in his bead, but 
likewise occasioned that weakness in bis eyes, wbtcb 
terminated in a total prtvation of sight* Fiam a 
domaitlc education be was remored to St. Paul's 
School, to complete bis acquaintance with the 
dasBics, nndcr the care of J)r.. Gill; and after a 
i^ort stay there, was transplanted to Cbilst Collage 
in Cambridge, where he distinguished himself in 
all kfiids of acadwnical ererrises. Of this aodety 
he continned a member till he.oommsnoed Master 
of Arts: and then, leaving the udverdty, be re- 
turned to his fkfber, who bad quitted tha town 
and Uvad at Horton fai Buckinghamshire, where 
hepuisned his.ttndlM with nn par al UJod asslduily 
and n v^ *"" . 

After some yean spentin this studious retirement, 
his mother died, .and (then he prevailed with his 
ftther to igratify an.fncllnatlan be had long enter- 
tained' of seeing fiirdgn countries. Sbr Henry Wot> 
ton, at that time provost of Etoh C6IIege, gare him 
ajetter of advice for the dbection of Ms travds. 
Having employed *his curiosity about two yean in 
France and Italy, on the nevrs of a dvil war break- 
ing out in Ellwand, he retained, without taUng a 
survey of Greece and SicUy, as at his setting out 
tfie scheme was pitdected. At Fails the Lord Vis- 
ooButScndamore, ambaisadnrftoro King Charles L 
at the court of Fiance, introduced him to the ac- 
quaintance of GnitiUi^ who at that time was hon- 
oured with the same character there by Christiana, 
Onsen of Sweden. In Rome, Genoe, Florence, and 



other dties of Italy, he contracted aftmilisrity with 
those iHw were of higtiest reputation fiir wit and 
Icazniqg, several of whom gave him very obliging 
teadmoniaa of their fijendship and < 



Retaining firom his tnvels, he fbnnd England oB 
the point of being involved in blood and oonfiision. 
He retiied to lodgii^ provided fiar him in the d^ ; 
whidi being commodious for the reception of his 
sister^ sons, and some otiier young gentlemen, he 
undertook their edncatioii. 

In diis idiHosophical coonebeooBtinned, without 
a wife, till the year 1643, when be manied Maiy, 
tbedauglhterof BlchardFowel, of Forest-hill in Ox- 
fixdshire, a gentleman of esute and repntatian in 
thatcoon^, and of principles so veiy opposite to 
his son-in-law, that the marriage is more to be won- 
dered at, than the separation whidi ensued, in littie 
more than a month after she had cohabited with 
him in London. Her desertion provoked him both 
to write several tr cat ii cs concerning tlie doctrine 
and dlKipUne of divorce, and also to pej his ad- 
dresses to a young buly of great wit and beattQri 
but befise be bad engaged her *w^wrtiflns to con- 
clude the marriage treaty, in a visit at one of bis 
rdations, he ibund his wife prostiale befere him, 
imploring ibcgiveness and reconciliation. Itisnot 
to be doubted but an interview of that nature^ to 
little expected, must vrandetflilly afitet himt and 
peihaps the Impiesslans it made on Us imaglnallfln, 
aontribated much to the p«ft»t<"g of that pathetic 
soene in FwraSmJjaHf in which Eve addresseth 
hendf to Adam far pardon and pmcew Attii^ln* 
tsffceitioB of his ftdends, who were present, after a 
short ndnctanoe, he gensrously; laaiftced all his 
nsentment to hcri 



-" Soon his heart relented 



Towards her,l)is life so late and sole ddl^t. 
Now at his ibet sttbmladva fai distress." 

And after this re^nnloB, so fiir was bo ftam retafat- 
Ing any unUnd memoiy of the provocations which 
he had xeodved fiom her ill conduct, that when the 
kii^^s eausa was entirely suppresMd, and herfetber, 
who had been active In his loyalty, was exposed to 
seqnestntions, Milton.3eodvcd both him and his 
•fiunily to protection, and fkee entertainment, In hV 



•BookX. 



a3 



LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 



om houae« till thdr affldn wm aocommodatadlqr 
his interest in Oe victOKloai fitodoB. 

to Sir William Waller, ma promiaed, but soon 
npeneded,bj Waller^ being laid aaidej when liii 
maaten thought it proper to new-model tlieir army. 
However, Hie keenneai of his pen had ao efbctuallj 
recommendedliim to CnanweU's esteem^ tliat when 
lie- took the rdns of .government into his own liand, 
he advanced him to be Latin Secretary, both to hlm- 
idf and the Pailiaments the former of these prefer- 
mentslieeiijqyedboai nndet the usarper and Iiis 
aoo, the other until King Charles II. was restored. 
For some time he had an apartment for his fianily 
at Whitdiall: buthis health requiring a ficeer ac- 
oeasiaii of air, he was obliged to remove thence to 
lodgings which opened into St. James' Parle. Not 
loqg aftor Us settlement tliere his wiiSe died in child- 
iied, and much about the time of hear deaA, a gutta 
soeana, which bad far sevetal yean been ^radnallj; 
increeshig, totally extinguished liis tight. In this 
mdandwdy condition, he was easily prevailed Itrith 
to thinlc of taking another wife, who was Catharine* 
ttie dauj^ter of Captain Woodcock, of Backn^; 
and die too, in leas than a year after tlidr marriage, 
died ia the same unfiartunata manner as thefimner 
liaddoDe; and in ills twen^-third aoonet lie does 
honour to tier memory. 

Being a second time a widower, he employed his 
fldeod Dr. Paget to make choice of a third oon- 
aart^ on whose recommendation he married Eliza* 
betiu the daugihter of Mr. Minshul, a Cheshire gen. 
tleman, by whom he hadno issue. Three daughters, 
bf his first wifr, were then living ; the two elder of 
wliom are said to have been very serviceable to him 
inhisstodies: finr having been instructed to pro* 
noynce not only {he modem, buttalao the Latin, 
QnAt and Hebrew languages^ tfaegr read in their 
seqpective oiiginala, whatever authors be wanted to 
conault, ihaa^ fhey underttood nane but their 
motlier-tangne. 

We come now to take s survey of him ln< that 
point ofvlew, in which he will be looked upon bj 
all succeeding ages with eq[ual delight and admlni' 
tion. An interval ofaboottwen^yearshad elapsed 
since be wrote the Maik of Cooms, L'AUegro, D 
F msew o , and Lyddas, all in sudi an ezquidta 
strain, that, thou^ he had left nootheraManmants 
of his genius bdiind him, his name had been im< 
mortal; butneilhertheinflrmitiesafageandooosti- 
tutioiv w* Iha vicissltnaes of Sirtww^oonlddepress 
thevigovefhiamlnd, or divert it fimm executing 
a design he had long conceived of wilting a heroic 
poem.* Thefidlflfmanwasasulfjecttbathehad 
some yeavabefiane fixed on finr a tagedy, which he 
intended to fism bj the models oif antiquity ; and 
some, not without probabili^, aay, the play opened 
with ithat qieeeh in the fourth boiA of Paraiiu 
Loits line 32, which isaddreiacd by Satan to the sun. 
Were it material, I bdieve I could produce otlier 

• Paradise Lost, Book K. line 16. 



paisageii, which more plainly appear to have dmu 
originally intendedlbrtfaesoene : but whatever Ixodi 
then may be tn tills report it is certain that be did 
not begbt to mould his subject, in the finm wbidi it 
bears now, befine hehad oonduded his oontronsQ 
with Salmasiiis and More, when he had wboUy loit 
the use of his eyes, and vras fiirced to empliqr, in 
the office of an ■»wim>nrf^ anjfUend who aod> 
dental^ paid him a visit. Yet, under all tiieie dis- 
eouragements and various intsmiptlan% in tiie year 
1669 he pubUshed his PaniiM LmI, the noblest 
poem (next to tiioae of Homer and Vligll) tbatevec 
the vritofman produced in any ageor nation. Need 
I mention any otiber evidence of its inifStliBahle 
worth, than that ttie finest geniuses who haliesiie* 
oeeded him have ever esteemed it a nwiit to ssUsh 
and iUustiBte its beauties? 

And now perhaps it may pass fix a fiction, what 
with great veracity I affirm to be fbet^ that Milton, 
after liaving with much difiteulty prandled to bavia 
tide divine poem licensed fbr Ae prass, could adl 
the coi^fiir no more tiian fifteen pounds; the pay- 
ment of which valuable consideration, depended 
upon the sale of three nnmenoa im pwa a ions. So 
unreaaonably may peraonal pnqjudioe aflbet the 
most ex c e ll e n t p « » »*«nw«w— i 



About two years after, be pabUsbad itomdiia A. 

which I will say no move, tiian that there is scasodj 
a more remarkable iaatanoe of the ftailty of human 
reason, than our aadiar gave in pretering tills poem 
to Poroiiise Lea'. 

And thus having attodedhim to the Sixl7>nlntb 
year of his age, as dosely as such impeK&ctligbiib 
as men of letters and letinmant usaally leave to 
guide ODZ enquiry, would allow, it now only remains 
to be recorded, that in the year 1674, the gout put 
a.period to his Ufb,atBunhill,neBr London; fknm 
whence his body waa ooa«a!ycd'.to St. Gilesf church, 
bgrCripplcgate^vhenitliasinlBBDedinttiediancel; 
and a nest momunsnt has lately been erected to 
hisi 



Inhis youth he is said to have been extzemdy 
handsome. The colour ofhis hair was a U^t brown, 
the qrmmetry of his fbatmns exact, enlivened with 
an agreeable air, and a beantifbl mixtore of fidr and 
ruddy His stature (as we find it measured by him- 
self ) did not exceed the m<ddle size, his person- nei- 
tiiec too lean nor eorpolent; bis limbs irell propor- 
tiomd, nervouib tund active, serviceable in all re- 
spects to faJs exercising the sword, in whieb he much 
delisted; and iranted neither ddU nor courage to 
resent an afiVont firom men of the most athletic ooo. 
stitutions. In his diet he was abstentions; not deli- 
cate in the choice of his didies; and strong Uqnora 
of all Unds were his avenion. His>department waa 
erec^ open,aShble; his oo n ven afl on easy, dieeifhl, 
instructivej his wit on all occaitons at eommand, 
iboetioos, grave, or satbtlcal, as the sabiject luqnixad- 
His Judgment^ vHiendhengagedfinmreHgiona'HMt 
political qieoulations was Just and penetratiBg, hia 
appicbansion quick, his memory tenacious at-^b9t 



LIFE OF JOHN MILTON. 



fH 



he nad» Itlimdlng only not m eOuaiy m Us 
fenfais, ftr fliat vaa tmiTenal. And horing tzea- 
tand up ■nrhimmwuestowof «ciencB,pertiap> tbm 
AcultlM of his sool grew nunc Tigonmi after he vas 
deprived t£tigat; and Ida imagination (natuaUy 
nUime and enlaiged by reading romancea, of 
vldcb he vas mocfa enamoured in his yonCh,) 
when it was vliolly abstrafCted fiom material ob- 
iKti, was more at liberate make snch amazing 



exemiians intotbe ideal -wiadd, 

log bis divine work, he was tempted to range 

** Beyeod the vldUe dhimal sphcN." 

With so many aocompUdmienti, not to have had 
aome fimlts and miiEnrtnnes to be laid in the balance 
vritti the fione and fieUcity of writing PorodiM Ltit, 
would have been too great a portfon te homanlty. 

ELIJAH. FENTON. 



ON 



PARADISE LOST. 



iraEN I bdidd the Poet Uind, yet bold, 
In slender book his vast design on&ld ; 
Messish crowu'd, God's reconcil'd deoee, 
BiebelUng angelSy die finUdden tntf 
Heaven, hell, earth, chaos, all! theaignment 
Hdd me awhile misdoubting his intent ; 
That he would ndn (finr I saw him strong) 
The sacred truths to &ble» and old song; 
So Samson grop'd die temple'apoet in tgita. 
The msld tferwhefming, to revenge his si|^ 

Tet, as I read, soon growing less severe, 
I likfdbis pniject, the snoceis did ftar; 
Tbfottflb^iat wide field how he his way should find. 
O'er which lame iUth leads undentanding blind, 
Lert he perple^d tlie things he would explain, 
And what was ea9 he should render vain. 

Or, if a wwk so infinite he spann'd. 
Jealous I was that some less skilfid hand 
(Sndi as disquiet alw^s what is well. 
And by ill «™<*«Hi»g would excel) 

Hl^ hence presume die whole creation's di? 
To change ia soeneo, and dunr it in a play. 

PkidoB me, mighty Poet, nor despise 
My causeless, yet not impious surmise. 
But I am now convinced, and none will dare 
Wldda diy labours to pretend a share. 
Thou beat not mlBs'd one thought that could be fit 
And all that iraa improper doet omit t 



So that no room is here Ibr writeit left^ 
But to detect their ismoraaoe. or tlieft. 

That mijesty whldi diroui^ diy wwk doth reign. 
Draws die devout, deterring the proAme 
And things divine thou treats of in sudi state. 
As them preserves, and thee, invidatik 
At once delight and honor on us seize. 
Thou ■ing'st with so much gravity and ease; 
And above hnmaa fii|^t dost soar aloft. 
With plume so strong, so equal, and so soft t 
' The bird nam'd fi»m that Paradise you ring 
So never flag^ but alwqr> keeps on wing. 

Where conldst thou words of sudh a compass find ? 
Whence famish sudi a vast expanse of mind? 
Just heaven thee, like Tiresias, to requite. 
Rewards with prophecy thy loss of sight. 

Well migfat'st diou loara tliy readers to allure 
fV'idx tinkling rhyme, of thy own sense secure ; 
WhiletheTown-beyswiltesall the while and qielb, 
^nd, like a pack-horse, tires without his bells t 
Their fancies like our bushy points appear. 
The poets tag them, we finr fiuhion wear. 
I, too, transported by tLe mode commend. 
And while I mean to praise thee must oflfend. 
Thy verse created like thy dieme snbUme^ 
In number, wei^t, and measure, needs not sliyme> 

ANDREW MARVELL. 



^- 



PARADISE LOST. 



THE AKGDHENT. 




Iilkodf^ ^^^^ ■ mi^*^™ h22*^ ^ 




tmm^ to mtbw amd. wippdit 

That w« tnaf m MiAee bfe ««■ 

<i9r 4* Mm nii){bticr wrffoK, w 

Bf itAt«twtg, wtetc'cr fate ta 

Ifan la fbc hcatt of ImU to woflc in Cnr, 

Or d» U* atniMk ia *• cUoMT 4«p > 

Whai «M i« dMa srail, 2bM«b )wc wc fi 






UO 



tel 



or 



dfecc! HimfirflowldhMi 
^cairdtlKJ 




Till«n<^cnd»t totewnkliniMnUc, 

'be fw*. 



DafiM0rMttBfnc« batortUvl 
To 4* MMlrt Moancw win ht 



tddkb*: 
Ai iMfac tfM Mottanr M Wrnn wfU 
WhomvwicifaC lfdwnbifipw*M«ic» 

Odt 4f 4V CVfl MCk to III tin totttk ffM ) Af 

<)«r UbanroHMt bt to wrrctt ifaat end, 
4*4 «M «raMd atfll to ted mem oTcvfl : 
Wbkli tit-nmt* mmr mteetei, ao m vctbaut 

I'd aim. 



WDum «n.ttnM* mar t m ee t ea, tomvt 
Mt frtoiw Mm« (if I fcU ndC,) and d] 
Hi* temoa eoanMl* ftvra tbrtr dcilte'i 



fttMa! the aMiy Victor badineall'd 
tminimtsnatwrnt 



BaHktodic 

Miet after ucio ■tonn. o'ar-Mown, hatfi laid 



100 



165 



170 



■Unn.o^ei 

Tha iei7 MHV^ diafcnwB die vtodpfee 
iadAtt 



Ofheavni ra^T'd 
l^wbaiMbalbipeiftlhle 



CBlUllf 



ftandcr. 




A» 

Net by the 

"blMstfie 
ftaidtba 
Thatve 

Forfhat< 
Who now is 1 

What ibail be t1fht~: fintfaett'finoi him is 1 
Whom reaHMi halb e^naiTd, teee hadi n 
Above bis egnalc^ FafgweU^ hai fy fir i di , (fame 
Whoeiojr fir ever dveiU! b^^hamnihwA, tSO 
labmdwmU.'. and ihon eraCgnrntat baO 
Rceave ffcy new paaHamr ! One^ iriio 1 
A mind net to be dunrd bjr plaoe 4 
The mind is ill own puce, and ta itadf 
CanmakealMavcnafhelJ.afaeil efbeaveB. XS6 
What matter when, if Ilie itia the mme. 
And what I dwnld be, all but le« than he 
Whom thimder hath made fpKatcr? Hcreat least 
Wediallbefree: th' Almfgbty hath not faoite 
Here 09r his en«T; will not dme ns hcnee : 260 
Here we majr m<|n secnie ; and in mjr choiea 
To feiffn is worth ambition, Ihon^ in hell t 
Better to *ei|pi in beD, than serve in heaven 
Bat wheieilKc let we then oar Cutlifal ficiewk. 
TTi' annriiTw ini rrrThiii *i — ' — . tC3 



rAB.A3HBB MtBT. 






rl"'^! 



(glkditfuiudi: 






TUMik Oodl UfbdAnm bSa c 

n> — uajBm MimiTi^itiMtt 






'TMUt UPS. HdW, Htf IBRHBdiV «IV 1 



il Mw uS 3ilB!e5lifc> fta nviliiiiiivoiUi 



utar. [Ant/. 



K*ir£'.f!l 






ai tan-iiin pur ocJwunl, onkl £an 
Bov ■BfmdfidfeniitgDdi, biw luh 

StJ 5!lff JuSniStifinii.. iS^ 




EtnuU^ID fe^^ ■1<v1#^ ID indkriu 

Biku. o SmpU. ibSJr ^1 or w 

Tn width iBd Ion- Th'HDndliispUB 



■itb Oh hlH D/nuEnDrwIim^ Aft* 







PARADISE LOST. 



im Ul »f &m: niiU^bUJjgtaiinrXrsauHi 

niii«iiiiiiiiiiiiiiirinniTiiiiaii]iiijii Id 



STSiiffBM.Is.lSr-i 






^1 MTliiilihiiTnij, iiniii iTiiii.i 



Sis 









8 



To peaceftd coonaeb, and the settled state 

Of order, how in sa&tj best we may 280 

Compoee our present evils, with lefiaid 

Of what we axe, and were ; dismisMng quite 

All thoughts of war—Ye have what raaTise.** 

He scarce had finish'd, when such'mumrax fill'd 
Th' assemblj. as when hollow rocks retain 485 
The sound of blustering winds, which all night long 
Had rous'd the sea, now with hoarse cadence lull 
Sea-&ring men o'erwatch'd, whose bark by diance. 
Or pinnace, anchors in a craggj bay 
After the tempest : such appunue was heard 890 
As Mammon ended, and ms sentence pleas'd. 
Advising peace. Far, such another field 
Thev dreaded worse than hell : to much tbe ftar 
Of thunder, and the sword of Michael, 
Wrought still within them; and no less desire 295 
To found this nether empire, which might rise. 
By policy, and long process <n time. 
In emulation opposite to heaven. < 
Which when Beelzebub pemeiv'd (than whom, 
Satan except, none higher sat) with grave 900 

Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem'd 
A pillar of state: deep on his fitont engraven. 
Deliberation sat, and public care ; 
And princely counsel in his £tce yet shone, 
Msgestic though in ruin ! eage he stood, 305 

With AUantean shoulders fit to bear 
The weight of mightiest monarchies; his look 
Drew audienoe, and attention stilt as night. 
Or sonunex's noon>tide air; while thus ne spake : 

' *' Thnmes, and imperial powen, ofikprlng of 
heaven, 310 

£fliereal virtues ! cor tiiese titles now 
Must we renonnce, and, changing style, be call'd 
Princess of hell ? For, so the popular vote 
Inclines, here to continue, and build up here 
A growing empire: doubtless ! while we dream, 315 
And know not that the King of heaven hath doom'd 
This place our dungeon ; not our safe retreat 
Beyond his potent aim, to live exempt 
From Heaven's hig^ jurisdiction, in new league 
Banded against his throne: but to remain 320 
In strictest bondage, though thus fiur lemoVd, 
Under fh' inevitable curb, reserv'd 
His captive multitude : for he, be sure, 
In height, or d»tfa, slill first and last will reign 
Sole kmg, and m his kingdom lose no part 325 
By our revolt; but over hell extend 
His empire, and with iron sceptre rule 
Us here, as with his golden those in heaven. 
What sit we then projecting peace and war ? 
War hath determm'd us, and foil'd with loes 330 
Irreparable; terms of peace yet none 
Vouchsaf 'd, or sought; lor what peace will be given 
To us cnslav'd, but custody severe, 
And stripes, and arbitrary punishment 
Inflicted? and what peace can we return ? 335 
But, to our power hostility and hate, 
Untam'd reluctance, and revenge; though slow. 
Yet ever {dotting how the Conqueror least 
Maar reap his conqoest, and may least r^oice 
In doing what we most in suffering fiael ? 340 

Nor wiU occa^n want, nor shall we need 
With dangerous expedition^ to invade 
Heaven, wnose him walls fear no assault or siege. 
Or ambush fkom&e deep: what if we find 
Some eader enterprise ? There is a place, 345 
(If ancient and prophetic fame in heaven 
ISb not) another woiid. the happy seat 
Of some new race call'd Man ; about this time 
To be created like to us, though less 
In power and excellence, but lavour'd more 350 
Of him who rules above : so was his vrill 
Pronoanc'd among the gods, and by an oath,. 
That ahook heaven's whole circumfierence, con. 

firm'd. 
Thitlier let us bend all our thonehts, to learn 
What craatnres there inhabit, or what mould, 355 
Or substance, how endued, and what their power. 
And where tiiedir weakness, how attempted oest, 
By ibroe, or subtilty. Thouj^ heaven oe shut. 
And heaven's high Arbitrator dt secure 
In his own streiwth, tiiis place may lie expos'd 360 
The utmost bor&r of his kingdom, left 
To their deibnce who hold it: herapeiliapa 
Some advantageous act may be achiev'd 

?j sudden onset, either witti hell fire 
o waste his whide creation; or possess 365 

All as oar own, and drive* as we were driven. 



&OST. 



IBook IL 



The pumr habitants; or, if not drive. 
Seduce tnem to our party, diat their God 
May prove their foe, and with repenting hand 
Abolish his own works. This would surpass 370 
Common revenge, and interrupt his joy 
In our confusion, and our joy upraise 
In his disturbance'; when hu darling sons, 
Hurl'd headlong to partake with us, shall curse 
Their frail ori^ral, and faded bliss : 375 

Faded so soon! Advise if this be worth 
Attempting, or to sit in darkness here 
Hatehing vain empires." Thus Beelzebub 
Pleaded nis devilisn counsel, first devis'd 
By SiUan, and in part propos'd : for whence. 



But from the author of all ill, could spring 
>, to confinind the race 



380 



So deep a malloei 

Of mankind in one root, and earth with hell 

To mingle and involve, done all to spite 

The great Creator ? But their spite still serves 385 

His f^ory to augment. The bold design 

Pleas'd highly mose infernal state^ and joy 

Sparkled hi all their eyes; wldi full assoit 

Tn^ vote : whereat his speech he thus renews :. 

'' Well have ye jnds*d, well ended long debat^ 
Synod of gods! and, lute to what ye are, 391 

Cneat things resolv'd; which from the lowest deep 
Will once more lift us np, in spite of fate. 
Nearer our ancient seat ; perhaps in view 394 

Of those bright confines, whence with neighbouring 
And oppor t une excursion, we may chance [arms^ 
Re-enter heaven : or else, in some mild zone 
Dwell not unvisited of heaven's fidr light. 
Secure, and at the bright'nlng orient xxanx 
Purge off this gloom: the soft delicious air, 40& 
To heal the scar of these corrod ve fires, I*^^' 

Shall breathe her balm.— But first whom shall we 
In search of this new world? whom shall we find 
Sufficient ? Who shall tempt with wandering feet 
The dark, unbottom'd, infinite abyss,- 405 

And through the palpable obscure find oat 
His uncoum way : or spread his airy flight. 
Upborne, with indefatieable wings 
Over the vast abrupt, €et he arrive 
The happy isle ? What strength, what art can Aen 
Suffice, or what evasion bear nlm safis 411 

Through the strict senteries, and stations thiek 
Of angels watohing round ? Here he had need 
All circumspection ; and we now no less 
Choice in our suffrage : for, on whom we send, 415 
The w^ht of all, and our last hope, relies.". 

This said, he sat; and expectation held 
His look suspense, awaiting who appear'd 
To second or oppose, or undertake 
The perilous attempt: but all sat mute, 4^ 

Pondering the danger with deep thoughts: and 
In otlier's countenance read his own dismay, [each 
Astonish'd ! None, among the choice and prime 
Of those heaven-warring champions, could be fbnnd 
So hudy, as to proffer, or accept 425 

Alone, uie dreadAil voyage : till at last 
Satan, whom now transcendent ^lory rais'd 
Above his fellows, with monarchial pride 
(Conscious of highest worth) unmov'd thus spake i 

** O progeny «f heaven, empyreal thrones ! 430 
With reason hath deep suenoe, and demur, 
Seiz'd us, though undtsmay'd : long is the Way 
And hard, that out of hell leads up to li^t : 
Our prison strong; this huge ccnvex of fire. 
Outrageous to devour, immures us round 435 

Ninefold: and gates of burning adamant 
Barr'd over ns. prohibit tdl egress. 
These pass'd (nany pass) the void profound 
Of unessential night receives him next 
Wide gaping! and vrith utter loss of being 440 
Threatens mm, plting'd in that abortive gnl£ 
If thence he 'scape into whatever world. 
Or unknown region, what remains him less 
Than unknown dangers, and as hard escape ? 
But I should ill become this throne, O peers ! 440 
And this imperial sovereiimty, adom'd 
With splendour, arm'd with power, if ou^t propos'd 
And indg'd of public moment, in the shape 
Of dimeulty, or dangor, could deter ' 
Me from attempthig. Wherefore do I assume 450 
These royalties, and: not refuse to reign. 
Refusing to aconpt as great a share 
Of hazard, as of honour, due alike 
To him who reigns, and so much to him due 
Of hazard more, as he above the rest 455 




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PAS,AI>ZBB KOBT. 



PARADISE LOST. 



THE ARGDH^ItT. 



nillid« P MI nllM iri ■ «a hU fija 
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mm^wHIigl iUiiiit l Yii I n iiiiiii t 



PARADISE LOST. 



THE ABatlHBHT, 




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KnitaBl n( •ut^'nd n^ ill M k'' 

Me Hn^IiiT K^Tl^ ibsd 
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PARADISE LOST. 



THE AKOUMEMT. 



" nm lnmi i/mpiirinj liiiii liilf 



VAB.ASZBB IMBT. 



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tmulfilMititfuJtlaiMinilJnM. Ill 
rSwt ■■>■■* dn IIU iHHrHdnmriS 




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Add DOUilh 111 dllllBt J be TOO! OOHil 



275 



BookK} 

Aphfleniz, gufA bar all* ai tiwt tola Vri, 
Wdcd to IninrtM bJi raiqnca in the nin's 
ibrfght tonptof to BBfptlaa Thahas he flies. 
Atonpe on Ifa' eMtom cliff ofPanMlise 
He lights, and to hit proper ihape zetuziu, 
A wrrah wlng'd ; alx wuiga he wore to shade 
HtoUneamentadiTliie: the pair that clad [teeast 
£ach thoalder broad, came mantling o'er his 
WitiiTefrioniaincnt; the middle mir 280 

CHrt like a ttarry xene hi* wairt, and round 
SUrtcd his loins and thighs with downy aold 
And colours dipp'd in heaven ; the thizonis feet 
ShadowM from either heel with feather'd mail, 
Sky-Unctnr'd grain. Like Maia's son he stood, 285 
And shook his plumes> that heavenlj fragrance 

fln-d 
The drenit wide. Straight knew him all the banda 
Of angels under watch ; and to his state, 
And-to his meatage hij^, in honour rise ; 289 

For on some message hi^ ther guess'd him bound. 
Their glittering teats he paas'd, and now is come 
Utto ttte bUssnu field, throng grores of myirh, 
And.iknraclag odonzs, cassia, naid, and balm ; 
A wildemeas2f sweets; finr Nature here 
Wanton'd as in her ptine, and jplay'd at will 295 
Her Tlxoia fiudes, pouring fimrth. more sweet. 
Wild above rule or art ; enormous bUss. 
IBm, thnagfa the tficj forest onward come, 
Adam discem'd. as in the door he sat 
Of his oool faower, wiifle now the mounted sun 900 
8hot down direct his nnrld rajs to warm [needs : 
Berth's inmost womb, more warmth than Adam 
And Eve within, due at her hour, prepar'd 
For dinner saTonxr fruits, ef taste to please' 
True appetite, and not disrelish thirst 305 

Of necrronsdraughts between, from milkv stream, ' 
rgrapes lo whom thus Adam cail'd;. 



9 JJMUMMOI VOST. 



27 



*' Haste hither, Bw, and, worth thj si^^ be- 
Eastward among those tiMS, what glorious shape 
Comea this waj moving: seems another mom 310 
Risen onimid-noon ; some great behest from heaTen 
To us pohapa he brings, and will youchsafe 
This day tone our gUMt. Butgo with speed. 
And what thy stores contain bring forth, and pour 
Abundance, lit to honour and receive 315 

Our heavenlv stranger: well we may afford 
Our givers their own gift% and large bestow 
Fnm Imce bestow'd, where nature multiplies 
Her fertile erowd), and by disburdtiing grows 
If ore froU&l, which instructs us not to spajce." 220 



To whom thus Eve : " Adaqa, eaxfhli hallow'd 
mould* 
Of 6od inqilr'd, raaall store will serve, where store. 
All s ee aon s, ripe for use hancs on the stalk ; 
Save what In firugal storing firmness gains 
To novdahi and superfluous moi&t consuihes : 325 



But I will ni)ste, and from each bon^ and brake. 
Each plant and juiciest gouzd, will pluck such choice 
To entartafai our angel guest, as he 
Beholding shaU corneas, that here on earth 
God hath di^ena'd his bounties as in heaten." 330 

So sayiag^ with demtchftd looka in haite 
She torns> on hosritawe thou^ts intent 
What dioioe to choose for delicacy best; 
What order, so oontriv'd as not to mix 
Tastes, not ir«U join'd, inelerant, but bring 335 
Taste affcer taste, nphdd wita kindliest duuage: 
Bestixs her then, and from each tender stalk 
Whatever earth, all bearing mother, yields 
In India East or Wes^ or middle shore 
In Pontus, or the Punic coast, or where 310 

Aldbious reign'd, fruit of all kinds, in Coat 
Rough or smooth rind, or bearded husk, or abcU« 
She gathers, tribute laine, and on the board 
Heaps with unsparing hand i for drink ttie grape 
Slie crushes, inoSenuve must, and meathes 945 
From many a'berry ; and from sweet ktfuels press'd 
fite tempers dulcet creams ; nor thet6 to hold 
wants her fit vessels pure ; then strews the ground 
With sose and odours from flte ahmh unftinrd. 

Meanwhile our primitive great 8iKe» to meet 350 
Bis godlike guest, walks forn, without more train 
Accompanied thM wKb his own eoaa|dete 
Perfscttons: in himself was all his state, 
MoK aoMnn dum the tedious pomp ttiat waits 
On prlaoes, when Ibeir rich retinne long 355 

OthaamU^ and gmnqs bcsmeai'd with gidd. 



Daxxles the crowd, and sets them all ame. 
Nearer his presence Adam, though not awed. 
Yet with snbmiss approach, and reverence meek. 
As to* a superior nature, bowing low 360 

Thus said: ** Native orheaven! for other place 
None can than heaven such glorious shape contain ; 
Since, by descending from the thrones above. 
Those happy places thou hast deign'd awhile 
To want, and honour these, vouchsafe with us 365 
Two' only, who yet by soVndgn gift po ss e s s 
This spacious ground, in yonder duny bower 
To rest, and yrhax the garden choicest bears 
To sit and taste, till this meridian heat 
Be over, and flie sun more cool decline." 379 

Whom thus th' angelic virtue answer^ mild : 
" Adam ! I therefore came : nor art tbou sneh 
Created, or such place hast here to dwell. 
As may not oft invite, though spirits of hieaven. 
To visit thee: lead oA then where thy bower 3T5 
Cershades ; for these midhouri, till evening rise, 
I have at wiU." So to the sylvan lodge 
Thev came, that like Pomona's arbour smil'd 
Wlm flowerets deck'd and fragrant smells ; but Eve, 
Undeck'd save with herself, more lovelv air SMI 
Than wood-nymph, or the fUxest goddses feign'd 
Of three that in mount Ida liaked strove. 
Stood to* entertain her guest Ibron heaven: no veil 
She needed, virtue prom ; no thought inflrm 
Alter'd her cheek. On whom the angel ' Bail* 385 
Bestow'd, the holy salutation us'd 
Long after to bless'd Mary, second Eve. 

"Hail, mothec of mankind! whose fruitfWl 
womb 
Shall fill the world mote nnmeroos with fhy som. 
Than with these various fruits the trees of God 399 
Have heap'd this table.'* Rals'd of grassy turf 
Their table was, and mosn seats had round; 
And on her ample square from side to side 
All autumn pil d, though spring and autumn here 
Danc'd hand in hand. Awhile oiscource they hold. 
No ftar lest dinner cool ; when thus began 39* 
Our author : ** HeaveiUy stranger J please to taste 
These bounties, which our nouxuher, ttom whom 
All perfect good, unmeasur'd out, dwoends 
To us for food and for delight, hath caus'd 
Th' earfli to yield ; unsavourv fbod perhaps 
To spiritual natures ; only thu I know. 
That one celestial Father gives to all." 



40) 



Tt7w1 



To whom the angel : " Therefore what he gives 
^IHuMe praise be ever sung !) to man in part 4li5 

foundr ' 



Sniritual, mav of purest sj^iits be 

No^ ingrateftal food : and fbod alilw those pore 

Intelligential sufaetances rMUire, 

As doth vonr ratimaU ana botti contain 

Within them vtCrftBwa foculty 410 

Of sense, whereby they hear, see, smell, touch, taste ; 

Tasting concoct, digest, assimilate. 

And corporeal to incorporeal turn. 

For know, whatever was created, needs 

To be Eostain'd and fbd ; of elements, 415 

The grosser feeds the purer, earth the sea. 

Earth and the sea iSeea air, the air those met 

Ethereal, and, as lowest, first the moon ; 

Whence in her visage round, those spots unpurg'd 

Vapours not yet into her substance tum'd. 420 

Nor doth fh^ moon no nourishment exhale 

From her moist continent to his^ier orbs. 

The sun. that ll^t imports to all, receives 

From all his alimental recompense 

In humid exhalations ; and at even 425 

Sups with the ocean. Though in heaven tiie tre^ 

Of Ufe ambrosial fruitage bear, aAd vfaies 

Yield nectar; tho' from off the boughs each mom 

We brush mellifluous dews, and find the ground 

Cover'd with pearly grain : yet God hath here 430 

Varied his bounty so with new delights. 

As may compcure with heaven ; and to taste 

Think not I shall be nice." So down thc^ sat. 

And to their viands fell ; nor seeminglv 

The angel, nor in mist, the common iloii 435 

Of theologiims, but with keen despatdk 

Of real hunger, and concoctive hmt 

To transubstantiate ; what redounds, transpires 

Through spixiU with ease ; nor wander, if by fire 

Of Boats coal, th' empiric alchemist 440 

Can turn, or holds it possible to turn, 

Metals or drossiest ore to perfect gold, 

As from the mine. Meanwhile at tame Eva 

Minister'd naked, and tfaetr flowing cups 



ca 






f^^^^ 



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BJlna«iMMIiiMmt-ln(blui 



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WtnGmdid UDMHi Ml bUli 4k«i 
tiul, .mlllw. w Ml MJ) Bmbm mJ ; 

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^'■^ ID ilun On Sua, Mdi aim iqnil ud cini, 
' ijiiiaiiic«niii,ia>iuu,ainni, 

H^B b ■!> iTiilin. iSES'aKli tea 
IlhUHB^ Hnjikq iH^i^U imr 




„ -- ■ ■S!«i!!'i!,'ilil!S!^i|^p- - 




PARADISE LOST. 



THE ARCDHGNT. 



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Him oiSStwl^ Mtbah Uwi PnU e^i,_ 

iMi^ij. tilmiMiifl^'iiir Fii' ^!niM 
^teobm^dui 017 imA innt im^ 

WM wt ^ lunut aad dioavHa <D flit Hitn. 
Tn dn> ainwrito* auM^Kl tUM b dlUl J 



To 4iul Iwltig Orrw, dbdmlniiv i^t. 



finn On htHthllll tbnbmirk, pmgll. 






At i u n i»H^— d flm JbnmafKhtwm 
?«ML Kimn^licT.vid^wS'lnivv-''' 



PARADISE LOST. 



THE ABGUMEMT. 



•Slt-iSrsi^*!! ^..y^.j, ^ ^au,* 



l»Ii*«ti ati mtJt M 



SJfSS!" 






wti»u tar, H wOiuuu (Ud. 

MaE Ui aaUii tafHB Dim^Se dor 
JBU hb ^H, ni WfRAl Bun ntom'tt 
nMiAlviib Ul lalua, IV omnlpolnil 






ta M^ incHdK * tetatl 






«Mr(i>Hi *fK 111 «H ike>9iB£ 
nfiJjjiiiMli.MrwmfcmiiMnmM 
rroUflclnmMflPiiliSaiiwtlgti, « 






jBSjJ«tt imiiM^liii.- liS^Sfj^ ' 






Basssaasea.'S 






ni mill iMi iliMil. ■liliii I tiiiil Tr 
Sir Bad AataTBu^ M^ l«ui nlM 



Son nu« bnHH&ffd am ind Sidn. 



«> dw «|1« ud dt« tfa 



j!a5iS5S€_ 

PlltlW^ VlDI til* HkB, pBtDOrv 






(klac^ lk« woodh ud HHd dtdr PBiBkd wlpn 
TIdina:iuttna>idwU|li!liiaH 4SS 




PARADISE LOST. 



■toe u^vl mdrd, uid En Adan't 



■ lUMi, Iiul,^IU jcrfrw iTbtmiM *'^f^, -itaM b tA 



.4ad (lu «ul na aba ■» u w^er ni,, 
B«tt, BDd wanttetfauuw IMT (hilti vti On' 
9* iHt bow ai^ |nHrt;iMd BOd Moan, 

tit •« *■ lit. ■• BH THk «di aucoiuii 

fflSjSSjfcj niiBi *nii iri'i I'll 









T« vlHU diu Adui. ototf^ of dodL nv 
"UHSillf kHibHiiiUidnit.piin 

nS! Stn* C.ffl*^' ■*" ''^ O™" ■"■' 
iiirfMi^l^imwBMtt wMn mBOMBu;^- 



niiiiiiiii iiSiTn ii mTJiiiiiiin i imu 



FiDl uSma, Kd ban lUii 'uh iHln U lB| 



Cu HH, vlHt hmaoin or Ixvt dillfbt P 
^•nndno^l tmlnJIy'" 




rii»iji|lii.»iiliijiiiili«li*i«i, mUOi ■Bin'! 





tJMmjMll. MlTlllltnll llll liluTlil 



Siro^lint awMmnZainiitifcSti 
JMOfm bKwMp l»l« pniMH Mil 
^f^ wM'imn-j. mj m. ftni .!»«; 



Varlmib nanHUIiwi jSrSh fta, fill) 

Apbnva Oa iHi^ laf WW* ^R I ■«»**- 

Ld^ mt 1^ hmulj ^tofti. Old iBw iMt k>iv 
Iiniliiic^'AmHl n Inmnllaia midi ?" 

CelHtUI nvr ndTlDT^pRppK hw, 

AinD^ r" Ltt 11 mlBiv Itw> Out ibni bnwM 

(And pin ■«■*■« cmtedl <fB «J^ 

Of UBtan^&t or Ua^ndiidnbnii ta 



Ksaa; 







FABAOISE LOST. 



THE ARGDHENT. 



HSbn ^ Mi^UmSiai U««I- 



•m II iWiiri. iliM iinilil lliiiiiiliin —1. 

Ai ban hlarilSdMbt hMMj 

Dniltt nJXikivit sCadmlii pmr, «i 

AcDv* ntia IwfODd tbt MMn flirafc 



>a!r. [.Ski* n. 

]&n a* fliim p«t itar HDi 1? IflBt iniH 

mui naAl BMI, ftitt c_a Ik. kunii |ilr„ 
AjdA^taiUToialaMliIcwIlaiMr 

T>i 1 ilhiii iiiiiifl niii ■iiiiiiLiii^ii tu 

tiijil>»»irt.tiii^)|M{»liBliitlWi«lil<|aii_. 



labiHi^ ■■ u Idv ■ ska rniMa 

nfilMiiiiiiSiHMi fcanltai&KinHBan, 






H hwM M j.fc1nliiM B iC|l»n g||g«p 



.vtendBagBTRdidHHRrlarta, lb 



fiFaSSJ tWit j^Jfcbl^ Mil 
Tto (ind ter, »M K ^ Bl^nS Ion 

ITMyill IWIA bw am 01(7 bntow k 

Tinilinr iif tinilliillim. mmmil'l^i : 
^ MdBttMiw, fln ftaud blim HUlrt ; 
¥^ dMm fan nn ikht, iu » kVG^ 






• UUdi l» an HBAIia. Omi U dm 
In un» ctoaK iBaHa^bi a >B, 
tab wianteittoK, •kcnm mM, 
Bt> m <n iHfra, urn b >K If huni . 



— 'b^ hiMi^ T b U im fton Of 
■ ■>■>> Mai. |«»fc?lni^ mi "- 






gfMju 3K^'ia Mih5o5Aiii»iij 

AnMEliwabr<iiii noHTt no (£111^' ' 




sssur 



Hi 

*iiM»tt«riiHMH tniMfM ■■« tM* 

b£^ I™Jfc F*!*^' 

Ttaai n«H dw flvU OH tMivaed ftgod 

AadSnoi Um HIT ■«>, Oh IHH ha iHi 
gjMMMtfcilifcaiirtilii'di Umm t 






LOOT. tA»t JX. 



^-rsst.— 















MlodiEC^wi biinc Dim lUItiBuf!' CIO 
" Lad Ubii,' Bill Bn. !!• baUiw nHU; 
laBdifLM. ud midi koHon ••■■ mMgblJnVi 
BriibwaUicMlj ■>>h_ani>d'Tln(aiih 

ff i yil i r Un!MBiw ittj ||l B. ug^ t» 
Tt ^Sa i«w^TindLn»,BMJ»minft^ 

SohdutbHrofUt^H] (he rw, '■« it** 

To •bon Il» nnmfi luUrfUUT nplMil : Us 
-iBlidi bafliUalltiUHIdltulofAafniU 



I of iGiflA mh unldK 
■ki lEunM lUd, tlnfli MA ahu sh 

llfi wiiM liiwilllilSSpi 1ilf«lSri(bi J 





ii.mi«Tolo«TIMjr 




ffilji'i^filiuu »n Oil ibbi.'°%l'ili>i 
wmlM— Hu oi Mt 14 wimifrraiiabnx. 
OriHIMirlH&, Dtf V evil fenhHra 



H«iB II II mil, udluti* kbo fcoDd 
Dim anc, cmtf^^MHT innlR bewL 






D^^^m •hKEDTlriU Upl^' »< 



ffiffi 



TTioMh t lii i m ' iUm, »IP In WTM— t m ll HIW 
UiUtiirfniaKmdlinUMBlitak, H> 

IM mS lil^SKVisSttinrlSlC 
nSmrlml mitoi BtMikdliMma, 
KniVdl^^^SDf^^ olio ttJSii U> psMI 
Civulaafwiildn|n(,Tvtv«ldtoEatfh VU 






h™?™.5-"i-'5' 









nnln nrmin-iln tlili mtiiijii ■ 1131 



Ei/^jffiffl.'tgTrgSHi^'^^ 



^^i 






likonVlannwokailmUiii 
WhH a_<A U Oia ■> FcrfBC&U I UK 

Nina tea •umHaiH.kuiina 
Hue one BOW, «hM iiUcMH nn olD 

LSI bB •11 nit : MlUM Oll^BHlnot, 
ABdWtttfknrtL^iViAKOiBBU^ IIU 



PABADfSE LOST. 



E AGGITHBNT. 



gsaflidwrS^ in aU OilBCi >tB ud Jut, 
tVBtKt noi Buu H HHmpTlbe mini 

PkhID Aq tM>^ •ilaifht iii> bna HUi n- 






wikf at« Filher, iind iiidtAdlnxMaht 
ird tbt rlfpil bald hlf RLont vbOm d«. 









- 1 kwd aa 11 a> orin, Bd ir bi iilia 111 
ail, >m^ niktt, MMac- Tg<iiHa 
Mliilc* aMAluHbHri, ud (utHX hnvt. 



;mi A> ajOal, Oiu IHT aKHi dldns^lU 

^ulDcDiH, wboaa vifftcllaii Biir nodE'd^Uia 
»> n l>4Md, ui loidT u inul 
nv inJDii%aMk^i~id hH (Ma 

lad rno^ bite II sa turn ih^ ul^u.- 









NoriUiraklilSU^i TUtlMul 
T*BUBi,amta^Uid<isBipvi , 



^inliiilimflliinii. Jn iMit [we 

















~- >4 kM IndlfnitCia : U 



»XSS£&'ns3' 






^1*511 kSjw Umu, Ha Wgn Ihmf 






Tn'dUeqMMIU^tltalBpkKltUH. M« 
Wlikh pr . S Pm aih On ^g"" ** 

Tin »suw ifiHiiA v^SLJiSSpm 

NT if a i.jI nr MSh idim Bil m Kkt\ 
Thli IHR diluM, Hii Ika ttKh, ha IM> 

Huh ■Bi'aKit miitnlBhic, dnR%f mS^ 





L>[<ii l>n»»iMilillbilii.»li» lapv- 
Pikl H UK •• dHli ffntoca i( bai 
J JIhU ^MMa, ami S ui M i mA 



WkHfliM I IB Id. Kkn xnM b3^ 
llMJh ijTl r liiril,ll,Mj»Mimi«r 

HKi7,'lbau1i ■■ tUr ptw. o'flHUw >a 
Ca>cmi|dBn ID miMiK It •» faU itfU 







BsaiSSS'SS.la'K.WS,'! 



fknnMiBLInnii I aniMdlt. 

fnrBMitftafiirirfalHnl.iflnlft. 




PMeiilj iuhU cuntd : OliHtHmair 

Writ «nwllo^ nil tttabUiDviighudv; 

f> ■%■■ ••mk. rDnd wEli ! midu Oicii 



■Tr Jij fflili rJlfiiii i, " W liJ owMi UK JmUIj' 



[AxKtZ. 
M..lppro«fclo«ffl^ 



to ID nuvdfirllk Mn ik« snMKttolaK 
lidinviirdlHilB^WUifeR m 

ll» t«M, jwl llW |BL llBd ■ bgtUdan 
"FJCHtiiimiolIlt J*|M| •nuMliKia 

I m Ml llin la PHU, hull CSSr 



S?^,„. 



K^^^i 



i ID Iha plH* rfJlilmMPI will v**™* 



1 bji Am Bbmi^n-iiidiiDB, 
mo lUr liU ■■Mirtknmn nAti^ 
inMwbai dw hid dW4K-CuiiM 
ID! >tlh pwcW^adi Biokid kv «■ t 






Eb« oOBrt tamt^ta^nLm d- n ; 



t lq>T ttthy< n * fOM t Malii » ifi^b— 



^K, bilk ainihiB ud iMl u iHa B Bm 

ina Hud n !«■« *lnil4 iBlB >«, 
That It— B» —JhB I Jta rt i, nd lui« tbepawftf, 

?^i«ii nil II liiiiiifi iiir I' ii^i ma 
BiittaaiinwMi iumtUin HJmm??'^ 

; ■ AJ«»^ ""*.■■■* ■""1' Mi>itiin»wi — 




■^L-sS^H^S^ *■ 




BilinklniniinHfuBtoUi 
nuDHbljr llMir bulu, Md iMrric 



nSmM-HM 



PARADISE LOST. 



THE ASGUUENT, 









taedlnun) dmH nnK, u~un 





















JSK— "i" 

' n •aUv In* nil* *fDH tdnv 
Tim liiiiniiiiiii.^*>»<l»aBa»'i 

vhAl tm b> USim Ik lb«* pfwut irtlk* ^ 
■m WhV^ a.^ I. UM. o^Lh-l- I) 

On art, itmbiU, Ur ■udiJ&'iSS ''™' 

ffi<S«U•lk DriBomi aWinbiiiliU 









KSiil innVliriiiiiiMii 11 I Jill &iam)»i«wooJ,^3ilHwttlHfirfWnM. 44 

TOh iiiiiSSr piM^ few. UifcM ! ^MB'ii3libi£!ESimHd(nMU>luD 

|^iH,nd«ridiiliaidialiHJkAvttB. SM . llwodw^iMbflrUi vvMtdiHRt 

KdmilH^IMil^aailiininindui TIMbHtaliybi >w*ll,>ndl_d|rpik 

TolbH.ndulhjiiiHilnf; (Wd-HbUd Urau-dDiiI)il>i«il'irillin«Iii(U>ii>flW-d. 




FM sulll, IhU dk'd. Hud nil bli Uldv chou i 
All IM rfloH t-V ««. dU Bl'mHibij UM-. 
I liijlU aBitaigli mrrit.n iJMilBi-iit. sw 




■uuibiiil anil a™ «■ »? Ut^. 

Sh^lWd O^IUUrUUI^l Dull Iknic, 
ctu£>'Ut .HhWi, •<>«»• n^ in W, 
Kr lanf ta nhnil Ltfmr and luiKh. hr wh' 




X&im ^toL WMrnWrim Had 
Oh «r ■ tHlVii«lfiantaB> Miw 

S<i >M> I ■»» iMt Mi a« i l ii flST ili *y, 
But an la lU, >lili>li mba I kMdl h>!i 
Wllh EiHl limiiHint Oh ■nndnnii Ms I 
mwn cHiiiniiini iu>. w •whAi im 

WIHi iMin'kMU, Haon, md Hlrtiinmi 
On IMta iHIld dMHtflHr vid K^ulte «edt 
IH (Hk« Hit Iha iHiind hn^iU oiEL 



jl*EainilUllIqn,BHIUhC|nilds Ct' 

LuMtcUiniffifkUiiidi " o >intn tliM. 



iKllnn. jirltljlilllll II illi sllh talhilM 
Mii^i&llhW.aa jl Big Bw bigun fUdi 

Ail vhH BUIWMB •«<■ ilUsn kM. 

n* ■BJT itaMawd ■ vSinmh 101 

TDtukRihini miiWHhia : Uia aw HiM HMi, 
Ww^li • l»nn) dnd. ■Ilk >l>|ivi •i~d> iwj 



ADd?adt«ilMiiinudbi:t>dHlnM, ' 7«) 

Oil all Id nln I ^itlEbM« hi ■■>, bt m'd 
ConMigJIiW y «d nnv^ Idvlnli fir 4A'; 

SUHTd innd ulirfKEl^ ml li Ik.^ iXIS 

Cime letgu, »J MOWhtfMlagHTM In, ■■ Iwthi 



i once, bj mj ftntnffHfdnnt^JI With 
nofbiUi ■> l<Annld°>k« iliill k^i"™ 7n 



d ^!£ei kBt Ihi ndVniiii <ilir<iiJ. ' 



PARADISE LOST. 




" a [rap|>« tf Ihd BUlW. iDb 












Hta couon LlbHtJ P Wtui, bni nnbUld 
W^an^ Mlh nd codbMui cu In hard 

WiUiKfa sBm* iMhu< Enlnii%niia 

._..j — ijjnuiS™ i» 

Tb« WoMJ iWiCoiliiiliwir Wm fatwoM. 

ES^c Sm ii fttSiMM 111 i» ■■■iLni Ui 






»SB__ 

Itlt^MHIinwBlllVJ dHQUDM ' 

K' •zduuwil ^od, aid ftHA Ofl Dlbn hIJI 
llMte aft laagn. jJl to UtaU ■mj. 

HtoM Km • ■!•« Mr Aa luudi ilUa, 
ABd •mim irnBl W U til* WrwTiwI 

HOUMkUdTttnobK High U frDBl d*4|b 



w 



VA1ULBX8B &OST. 



ZBookXJI. 



In eithor band tbe hattfrnng aaael caimJit 

Our ling'riiw puenti, and to ttr eastern gate 

Led them dlniet, and down die cliflTat &sc 

To the SDbjected plain; then diaappaar'd. 640 



They looking back, all th' eastern aide beheld 
Of Paradiae, ao late their hamy aeat. 
M'av'd oTCf by that flaming uand, the gate 



With dreadfiil fiioea OutmM and fiery amu: 
Home natural teart tliey diopp'd, but wlp'd them 

■oon. 645 

The world was all befiare them, where to choose 
Their place of rest, and Providenoe their guide. - 
Th^, hand in hand, with wand'ring sups and 

slow, 
Througb Eden took theli wlitaij war. 



THE END. 



PARADISE REGAINED, 



9 lloem, 



BY JOHN MILTON 



70 



Began to Midi tfaatftmp^CBl* dime; whenat 
In either hand the haefBiitK annl evugtit 
Our lini^tinjs paxvnta, anif to tlr eaetem gate 
Led them direet, and down the diff as &rt 
To the Mild*ctad plain; then diaam»e«i*d. 640 
Thev bxAing beck, all th' eeilem die bdaeld 
Of Paradiae, to late their happy Mat. 
Wav'd over bj that flamii^ noind, ttia gate 



>m &OBT. 



ZBookXJl. 



With dreadful fiioei throngU and fieiy amu: 
ttome natural tean they ompp'd, but wip'd them 

soon. 646 

The world was all bdbre them, where to diooae 
Thdr piaoe of rest, and Providence their guide. - 
They, nand in hand, with wand'ring sups and 

slow, 
Through Eden look dielr toUtaiy way. 



THE END. 



I 



PARADISE REGAINED, 



9 llotm, 



BY JOHN MILTON. 



CRITIQUE 



ON 



PARADISE REGAINED. 



INVENTION hm ben JoOt caOed the " very 
nnl of poetiy.- That noble &cul^ fixst prompted 
0ian to become a poet, and faspired him 'with 
aenthnentt and language above Hbe standard of 
oidinaiy life. It supplies in a great measure the 
deficiency of homan knowledge, and contiibates 
laxgdy to oar inteUectoal pleasures, by opening;, as 
it were, a new creation, in which the imagination 
m^j c^ntiate and regale itaeK When united with 
a aoond judgment, and fed by those inezhanstible 
stares of solid infermatian whldi are accessible only 
to the &Toarite sons of science, its prodnctlans are 
among the tidiest treasures of Uterature. Of this 
we have a memorable proof in the works of onr 
immortal sothor, w1k>, widi an un]ianlleled feli- 
d^ of invention and digni^ of thooi^t, has pro. 
vided finrhis ooontiymen such feie as our sttpe< 
ii(n in the scale of created intelligence might not 
disdain to taste, and tbsc^ raised to himself a 
mnmunent more dmtable than brass. 

Hie Paradise Lost of Miltoa is, pcxbaps, the 
finest perfeimanoe that ever dropped fitora flie pen 
«f unassisted mortal man ; and in the ^endoar of 
its feme his other admirable works have been 
edipeed, and their beauties ne^ected. It will not, 
however, be too much to say that such a Poet could 
nerer write but in the tr«e spirit of his art; espe> 
dally <m a subject so intimately connected with that 
grand effort of his genius as the Poem which is 
here reprinted. He would feel himself quite at 
home, fi» it is indeed the after-Urth of that im- 
mense oonoeption. His dnuHotit pertona are chiefly 
those whose andent exploits he had formerly re- 
corded in celestial Terse. He celebrates the same 
DIVINE HERa-.encounters his old adTenaiy. 
They would caU forth all the energies of his mind 
oo the piindple of association of ideas; and indeed 
it is a striking proof how deeply he was enamoured 
with his subject, that after he had escaped with 
immortal honour firom his first *' adventoraiu 
fii^t," he should again try the strength of his 
plume, and Tohmtarily Incnx the difficulties inevi< 
table in oonstmcdng a Poem of such "I'tifnj 
beauty* He thuspn^Mseshistiiemei 



I who crewfaile the happy i 

By one man's disobedie n c e lost, now i 

Reoovet'd Pandiseto all mankind. 

And with the oonfidcnce of a veteran ia 
song he invokes tiie spirit rf inylration : 



Inspire 



At tikou art f»M< my prompted song, else mvte. 
And bear through hei^t or depth of nature^ 

bounds 
With prospToua whig^ '^ sBxnm'd to tdl of 

deeds 
Above hemic. 

The narrative then commences with the Instxatloa 
of John the Baptist, and the Saviour's attendance 
on that significant rite. The solemn recognition 
of his Sonship, botii by the Baptist, and the voice 
ficom heav en, is supposed to have Infiamed Satan, 

. m . .. ■ Who. roving still 
About the world, at that assembly ftm'd 
Would not be last— 

of the dignity of his person. 'Astonished and ap- 
palled at the attestations given to hink and appre- 
hensive ttiat his oirn empire was on the eve of an- 
nihilation, he hastens to summon a council of his 
peers, to devise means of preventing the dreaded 
catastrophe. His speech at the opening of Uie 
condaTe is a compound of lidllsh malloe, envy, 
and trepidation ; and finely supports the character 
which tiie Poet had assigned to him in the Para> 
dise Lost.* His infernal auditon, dismayed at the 
prospect of approaching ruin, eagerly accept his 
proposal to try the same wiles on the second 
Adam whkh had so awfUIy •oooeeded with the 
first. 

Unanimous they al) commit the can 
And management of this main enterprise 
To him their great diotator, whose attempt 
At first against mankind to well had thriv'd 

* In anodier respect it deserves hl|^ commenda- 
tion. The fiend Is Involved in doubt and ignorance 
(two most firnitftil sources of mlacg^;) not invested 
with that kind of omnisci e nce which ignorant ] 
MHiB are apt to ascribe to him. 



74 



A citmf^iris ov 



In Adam's engcOaow, and led their march 
From hell's deep-^anlted dea to dwell in ligfatf 
Regents, and potentates, and kings, yea go& 
Of many a pleasant realm and provinoe wide. 

Having reoeired his oommlaaion, he is prompt to 
Fulfil it. He repairs to Uie coast of Jordan in search 
of the Redeemer. Meanwhile the Eternal Father, 
who tits on the throno of universal empire, super- 
intending the vast concerns of his providence, and 
eyeing every event, infinrms the inhabitants of 
heaven of the machinations of Satan, and predicts 
his final confusion and overthrow. 

The most important part of the action now 
draws on.— Intent on the great work of human 
redemption, and musing how he may best enter 
upon his public ministry, the Hope of Israel is led 
into the desert, as, by its deep soUtndes, according 
with tlie holy meditations of his mind. It would 
be difficult to find in the whole compass of poetiy 
a more beautifiil cemposition than tiw soliloquy 
which is here put into his mouth: it contains sen- 
timents worthy of an incarnate God, and, with the 
exception of a line or two, exactly suits the char- 
acter of the adorable Jesus as delineated in the 
sacred pages. With inimitable simplicity he takes 
a review of the thoughts and actions of his child- 
hood, all marking him out gs more than man. 
Imagixuition cannot conceive of higher thoughts 
and more Various designs than those whidi filled 
the bosom of the in&nt Saviour. He considers 
himself as bom to promote all truth, to subdue 
and quell brute violence and tyranny over all the 
earth, till equity and justice were freed firom re 
straint, and restored in their purity to the world ;— 
to instruct and guide the meek, — 

By winning words to conquer willlnc hearts 
And make persuasion do the work offear ;— • 

to rKlaim erring souls;— and to execute the most 
signal veqgeance upon the inconrigible enemies of 
truth and righteousness. 

In this delightful retrospect, and ki reflecting on 
the late extraordinary apparition at his baptism, 
iuad th^ awful train of labours and sufferings 
which awaits him, he beguiles fi>rty days and 
nights in the honid shades of the patbless desert. 
The wild beasts know their Creator, and pay him 
homage. 



They at his right grew mild. 



Nor sleeping him nor waking hazm'd, his walk 
The fiery serpent fled, and noxious worm. 
The lion and fierce tiger glai'd aloo£ 

At length he hungers. Here is an opportunity finr 
the adversary to inject his temptations by in* 
ducing a distrust in Htm providence of God, and 
he embraces it. By a happy device of die Poet, he 
is mtrodnoed in the garb of a peasant, who, from 
suoh simple subjects as mi^t besappo e e d to tn- 
teicst a goor inhabitant of the ooiBfines of a descry 
is artftOly made to torn his oonversation on the 
baptism of John; to recognise Jesns as dw person 
to whom the magnificent ascription of Godhead 



was made hy the venerable Baptist; 4md to de- 
mand the exertion of bis almi^ty powe»foT the 
rdiefof his own wants, and thas» of hiaimpo< 
verished neighbours. * 

This artifice, however, is too weak to eover him 
from die omniscient eye of the Son of God. He 
is detected in his disguise. A conversation ensues, 
which manifests the wisdom, authority, and inflex- 
ible holineas of the Redeemer, and die hypocri^r, 
teigiverBation, misoy, and despair of the Tempter, 
and puts a period to the first bo(A of Faradiaa Re- 
gained. 

The second book introduces some of the disdplcs 
of Jesus, (afterwards his Apostles) who on the tes- 
timony of the Baptist, and the voice firom heaven, 
had received him as die true Messiah. In the 
midst of their rqotcings tiiat he wlio should re- 
deem Israel had appeased, his sudden retirement 
into the wilderness gives a blow to their hopes, 
and rouses the maternal anxie^ of his mother. A 
soliloquy of equal tenderness and beauty is put 
into the mouth of the latter. The prominent fea- 
tures of Mary's character appear to have been 
meekness, patience, and a thoughtfiil, ruminating 
turn of mind. They are all admirably copied and 
supported in this exquisite composition, which 
breathes heroic fortitude, implicit acquiescence in 
die will of Heaven, and a disposition calmly to 
wait the issue of those stupendous events which 
were yet in embryo, bntwhich, with unruffled con. 
fidenoe In the divine voracity* she expected to see 
accomplished. 

Meanwhile the adversary retuns. 
Up to die middle xe«ian of thick air ; 

which the Poet, with excellent propriety, has made 
the seat of his empire,* to give his dolannis re- 
port, to prepare Ills desperate coadjnttns tat the 
worst, and demand succours. The speech of Belial, 
and Satan's answer, transport us in imagination 
back to old Pandemonium: not because diey ore 
lervile copies, but as marked and highly finished 
originals as the effVi8i(nis of the same personages 
in that memwable assembly. The former advises 
that objects calculated to raise sensual derires in 
the wiinii of the Redeemer should be set befbre 
him : but Satan, who by proof had learned that he 
was not to be taken with such a bait, proposes to 
try him with manlier objects, such as carry a show 
of worth, of honour, of glory, and popolar applause, 
rocks whereon die greatQSt men have often been 
wrec k ed; or with such as seem to satisfy tlie 
lawful desires of nature. And as he now hnngen 
in a place where no sostenanoe u to be fiiund, he 
determines to improve an oppoctnnitj carved out 
oaetiytohls wishes. He selects abnd of wily 
spirits, and afler instructing each to play Us port, 
a there should be any need of didr serrioea, he 
takes his fillet back to dliedeKrt. Tbcrehefinds 



•8eeEph.ii.S. 



76 



A citxxzQirB oir ^AaLAa^zam VLM^AXsmn, 



aownfiam die immeme hdght. The Savioiir'B 
answer confounds him* Despairing cf reaping the 
frnit of his infiecnal laboaxs, and overwhelmed 
with conf iui<ni, he finally leaves the Redeemer, 
and a toigfat troop of angels descends and ministers 
to him. 

Having noticed so psrticalarly the beauties of 
this admirable Poem, we proceed impartially to 
point out its defects. They are fearing and na- 
pardonable in a Christian Poet, whose &b!e or 
plot is necessarily borrowed firom divine revelation, 
which wiU not bear elision or distortion, much 
less contradiction. They are of two kinds :— a de- 
£Bct of action, and of sentiment. If the Author 
had entitled his performance '* The Temptation 
of Christ," the action of the Poem as it stands at 
present would iuive been complete. But as he pro> 
poses to sinfr 

Becoiver*d Paradise to all mankind, 

we have a ri^t to expect a celebration of all those 
acts of almi^ty love and power by which the 
work was accomplished. That Pazadlse was re- 
gained, and human redemption effected, by the 
single act of our Saviour's temptation in the wil- 
derness, is in open contradiction to the Sacred 
Scriptures. They plainly declare (bat he saved us 
by kU obedience unio death: ihat his temptation 
was jnitiofory to his glorious Priesthood, and but 
a portion of the hardness which it became him to 
endure, who, as the Captain of our salvation, was 
perfected throu^ suffierings. It was indeed the 
first of a grand series of victories over our spiritual 
enemies, but 

He triumph'd when he &I1 ! 

What a theme wonW the life, the discourses, the 
miracles of Jesus have afforded for such a pen as 
Milton's ! But the closing scene, the tragedy of 
Calvary, might fiinslsh the matter of an angel's 
song. The imagination of men ever since they 
were placed on the eiVth have made wide ezcur- 
■ions in search of oljfects which should taily em- 
ploy and satisfy their exquisite powers:— they 
have created deligfat<hl fictions, and because the 
plain and usual event>« of human lifo are too com- 
mon and uninteresting, they have brought tlie 
gods themselves from heaven to enUven the scene, 
and painted in showing colours the benevolent 
manners and wonderful exploits of their conde- 
scending and social divmities. But, O what a field 
is liere 1 The imagin ation may rove in these reedi. 
ties, and lose itself in wonders. The sober judg- 
ment has no vagaries to reprove or condemn, for 
here excess is impossible. AU that the mind of 
man could omceive is beggared and shamed by 
the reality. A more extended action, therefoce, 
was necessary fbr doing Justice to Oie sut^ect, and 

■ffiffdingflillacope for the unrivalled powers of the i 
Poet. I 



The Poem is also chaxgeaUe wUb a defect of 
sentiment, cac dsviation from a capital dootrine of 

inspiration. 

Amicus Miltonus, sed magis arnica vetitaa. 

Poetical license does aot extend to the violatiottof 
divfaie truth. The proper DivinHjf of the Eternal 
Son, so unequivocally revealed in the Holy Scrip- 
tures, is kept entirely out of sight. Thus the Poet 
has ii^jured himself no less tium in excluding the 
scene of the crucifixion from the' action of his 
Poem. He has torn the sun from the firmament ; ■ 
and, as when that luminary retires bom the world 
every otject loses its colour and beauty, aa^ tfa* 
absence of this stupendous doctrine casts a gioom 
over his work, and occasions incongruities which 
would disgrace an author for below (he rank of 
Milton. He has thus deprived himself of a prin- 
ciple equal in energy to the fomous one so well 
known to the ancients, and fainted at in the fol- 
lowing precept of Horace. 

Nee deus intersif^ nisi dignus vindiee nodus 
Indderit. 

But we hasten through this part of our sutject.— 
We have no pleasure in exposing the defects of 
this Samson among poets; it ia like uncovering 
the nakedness of a fiuher. 

To conclude our observations,— there is no op- 
portunity here for the introductian of the splendid 
machinery which dazzles and ddigbts us in Para- 
dise Lost. There the Poet had 

' Ample room and verge enough. 

He was relathig events whld& could not possibly 
in some cases, foil within the limits of iinm»n ob- 
servation.— He could launch out into infinite space 
visit unknown regions, and converse with intelli- 
gencies, whose nature, whose habits and powors are 
so interesting, that the bare mention of their nmr iff 
opens the ear of curiosity, and prepares it for a 
feast of delight. The rev&eeace and sympathy of 
man for those elder parts of tJie creation are 
pew^ully excited by obscure hints and notices of 
their operations in the Holy Scriptures. He is 
led to consider them as his guardians, his moni- 
tors, and his future companions in the world of 
bliss. Paradise Lost had anticipated what of 
this nature would have given lustre and interest 
to this performance, but whatever could embellish 
it as for as it goes, has been employed. The dis- 
play of the Poet's geographical and mythological 
learning is truly surprising. Indeed, when we 
consider the difficulties he had to encounter 
in supplying so dignified a Hero as the Son of the 
Most High God with proper sentiments, and in 
giving variety to a long Poem, muriaH ng almost 
wholly of dialogue, we cannot hesitate to pro- 
nounce it one nf the most noble productions of the 
human mind. 



PAEADISE REGAINED. 



nHMflblQHIDPt«tlDd,ud(heT«iDptKAird S 
Ab* Uk uM bi an wuBidUBaiK 
ThoB MiK -who IHA tUa ikflHU ««mi 



TUa iHlTn w« liaiv faiiH|d, lurif 






•' aihlii.abdv ^ front mon Hult btfw 
Ob 1^^ 1 tvrt Uh* toOwVliTln'pnrt 



- Vloni ui CAinifb u III* &>i iJ< 

.tllBKirHRB.irukrinlBa. 
ifllTlHlllUllljl lllllll fli II. 



a<fM« 10 l«n ^ kBov, tM OfitG* IB^ 
WbuiiiibltanUliVHid: ainilf I cboiAl 
Bn u2u io4 w»s iniioio u mar 



tinm Hill ifiM— &S3, .Jft BBh HUM 



OtJ^InS^S] •>, anil iiUll (In S«l 



fess 



ABdr«^ dan BU^ vUhDut IDod 



B»T Act iw auw mt, th« ta pin 



Tbdii^Dnnj tb«i» vidi tmnhlliis Mr, 
Ot> Ub K bwrdna pBlitiu obottl 
Tb«B to teiinf MolbUllH lAKh fDntdd. 
Bot thb 0^ ^qn diaH be an ntnoeh'd ; 

Ofld lutk DW Hn hblMH Onule 
Su Ihi inrid V MiA liU%d >IIL 
JUtdHDllkliBplHti'Tiiiai >iniSbiIh D da 



TbodihLBIjv 



»SMJUaMM m-moASMma. lami. 






PARADISE REGAINED. 



^^i™jj^^gjjji«S^^^ 



irmfciiillilM iliinifcl It iiiir 




[JM/i. 



T« r«i^ ud baud ttatli ^iMInlHid fecolaaai 
TiiTle muuML MtMlih tJFifnir. 



S^SS^K 



%Hn DtTMv. -iiBlUili hm.MXi 



3ookIL2 



8S 



FoKtyaaid 


■e nrtf di^s HI 
moic oeiarted ] 


nehadingaid, 
licMliideed> 


SIS 


To wfaom tho* J«nt: - What eauOad'tt thou 
hence? 
Thqr all had need, M I tlioaMMt have aone." 



** Hov hatt ttum hunger dien ?» Sataaxepiled; 

Tdl me ifftiod were now befinc thee wt, 3S0 
Wonldrtthoanoceat?" "Thereafter aa I Uke 
The giver," answef d Jeana. " Whj dtaoU that 
Cuae thj (cfaaal ?" Mid ttie aabde fiend. 
" Haat thou not light to all created thhign ? 
Owe not all creatmea bjr jaat ildit to thee Sti 
DMgr and aarrioe, not to autr tin bid. 
Bat tender all their power l'^ Normentionl 
Meato bjr the law unclean, or offar'd fiiat 
To idtris, thoae joong Daniel ooold reftiae; 
Nor protfer'd by an enemy ; thoo^ who 330 

WoQld Mrople that, with want opptca'd? Bduld 
Katnve aaham'd, or better to cxprew, 
Troabied, tliat thoa dMmldat hunger, halh poncy'd 
FMm aU the dements her choioeat atare 
To tnat thee aa beaeema, and aa her Load 835 
With hemor, only ddgn to dt and 



Heapakanodicam; foaaMawondahadend, 
Oar Savlonr, lifting np hia cyca, bdield 
In ample ipace, under the broadcat shade, 
A table lidily spread, in regal mode, 340 

With dishea pU'd, and meats of noblest aoet 
And savoar, Deaats of ehase, or t>wl of game. 
In poArr bailt, or flrom the qrit, or boira, 
Onaambo'saeam'd; all fish ftom sea or shore, 
fMhet,orparlingbroi*,ofslMUorfin, 345 

And tTTn''f*— * name, fbr which was dndn'd 
Ponto^ and Laciine oay, and AlHe coaat. 
Aiaa! bow almpie, to theae catea oompar'd. 
Was tliat erode apple tliat diverted Eve ! 
Andatastatelyaide-boaid. bythc wine, 350 

That flrammt smdl difftatU, in order stood 
Tall stripling youths, rich dad, of fidier hoe 
ThanOanymedeorHylas; distant more 
Under the trees now txipp'd, now solemn stood. 
Nymphs of Diana's train, and Naiades 355 

With fruUa and flowers from Amalthea's hon. 
And bulies of th' Heaporides, that seem'd, 361 

Fairer duui felcn'd or old, or fiibled ainoe 
Of fairy danueU met in fbrest wide 
By knJghla of Logrea, or of Lyonea, 
Lanodot, or Pdleas, or Fellenorc : 
And all ttie while harmonlooa ain wen heard 
OTdrindngstxtDgs, or charming pipes I and winds 
Of fendest gale Arabian odoora ftnn'd 
Prom their soft wings, and Flora's earlieat smells. 
Svdi waa te splendour, and the Tempter new 866 
Bis invitation eamcatly rencw'd. 

** What doubta flieSon of God to alt and eat? 
Theae are not fruits fSnrMdden; nointeniiet 
Da&nds the touehfaig of these viands pure; 370 
Thfllr taste no knowledge works at least of evU, 
But llfSe preserves, destroys lift's enemy. 
Hunger, with sweet restorative delight. 
AUuese are spirits of air, and woods, and springs. 
Thy gentle ministers, who come to pay 37o 

Thee homage, and acknowledge thee their Lord : 
What doubnt thou, Bon of Ood: ? sit down and eat." 

To wliom HsM Jesoa temp'rat^ replied : 
" Said'st thou not that to allthinga I had right? 
And who withholds my power that ri^t to use : 
Shall I receive \ij cift what of mv own, 381 

When nd where ukes me best, I can command? 
I can at will, doubt not. aa soon aa thou. 
Command a Ubie in tfau wildemeak 
And oiB swift flights of angels miniatraat 386 
Arr^r'aln glory on my cup t attend : 
Why shouidst thou then obtrude this dlHwnce, 
In vain, where no acceptance it can find? 
And with my hunger what haat thou to do ? 
Thy pompona delicacies I contemn, 390 

And count thy specious gifts no gifts, but gnfles." 

To whom fhua answer*d Satan malcontent : 
" That I have also power to give thou leest; 
If of that power I bring thee voluntai7 394 

Whatlnughthavebestow'donwhom Ipleas'd, 
And rathcf o p portu nely in this place 
Cheae to impart to thy apparent need. 
Why ihoultttlhoa not accept it? But I tee 



oreflfcr ia sus pe ct ; 
others quick^^wUl 
ive earned the tu i 



Whatlcandoi 

OF these things others ouickTy will diapoae, 400 

Whosepoinshave earned the Ikr fct wpsiL With 

Both taihle and provision vanish'd quite [that 

With sound of harpies' wings, and talona heard ; 

Only th' importone Tempter still remain'd. 

And with theae words his temptation puxm'd: 405 

** Hij hunger, that each odier crcotme tamea, 
Thouartnottobeharm'd; therefine, not moVd : 
Thy temperance iavfaicible besides, 
For no aliaxvment yields to appetite. 
And all thy heart ia set on hi^ designs, 410 

Highactiuns; but wherewith to be aiAiev*d? 
Great acts require great meona of enterprise ; 
Thou art unknown. unlViended, low orUrai, 
A carpenter thy bthcr known, thyself 
Bnd up in poverty and straita at hom^ 415 

Lest in a desert here, and hunger-bit : 
Which way or fitm what hope doat Hum a^ine 
To greatness? whence audunityderiv'st? 
What foUoweia, what retinue, canat thoa gain. 
Or at thy heels the diziy multitude, 420 

Longer than thoa canat fMd them on thy ceci? 
Money brings honour, friends, cooqnest, and 
What rais'd Antipater, the Edomite. Dcealms. 

And his son Herod plac'd on Juda's throne, 
(Thy throne) but gold, that got him poiaaant 

Therefine, if at great things thou wouldst anrive. 
Get ridieafint. get wealth, and twaiure heap. 
Not difScult, if Uiou hearken to me : 
Bidies are mine. Fortune ia in my hand; 
Thn whom I fiivoar thrive in wealth anoain, 430 
While Vhrtoe, Valour. Wisdocn, sit in wane" 

To whom thna Jesus patiently replied : 
" Yet weoldi without these three is impotent 
To gain dominion, or to keep it goin'd. 
Witness those ancient empina orthe earth, 435 
In heif^ of aU tnehr flowhig wealth dissotvd: 
But men endn'd with these nave oft oMdu'd 
In lowest poverty to highest deeda; 
Gideon and Jephtha, and the shniiad lad. 
Whose oi&prlng on the throne or Judahaat 440 
So many ages, and shdl yet regain 
That iMt, and reign in Inael widMWt end. 
Among th^ Heathen, (fbr thnwaliout die world 
To me is not unknown what halh been done 
Worthy of memorial) canst ^ou not remember 445 
QnintiAa, Fabricius, Cmeus. Roguhia ? 
For I eateem those names or men so poor 
Who could do miahty things and could co n temn 
Richea thou|^ ofnz'd from the hand of kings. 
And what in me seems wanting but that I 450 
May also In this pove r ty aa soon 
Accomplish what they did, periwpa, and more? 
Extol not riches then, die tdl of Inols, 
The wise man's cumbranoe, if not snare, moe rat 
To slacken virtue, and abate her edge, 466 

Than prompt her to do oo^t may merit praise. 
What if with like aversion I reject 
Biches and realms; yet not fin that a down. 
Golden in show. Is but a wreath of tfaotna, 
filings dangers, troubles, tiares, and sleepless nights. 
To him who wears the regal diadem, 461 

When on his shoulders each man'a burden Ilea ; 
For therein stands the office of a Ung, 
Hia honour, virtue, merit, and diief praise. 
That fbr the public all this weight he bears. 406 
Tet he who reigna within himsdf, and miea 
Passions, deaiiea, andfiears. Is more a kiiy; 
Which every wise and virtuous man attams: 
And who attains not, ill aspires to rule 
Cities of men, or hesidstrong multitade^ 4*^ 

Subject himadf to anarchy within. 
Or Uwleas poaaiona In him which he sorres. 
But to gnioe natlo^ in the way of truth 
By saving doctrine, and from error lead 
To know, and knowing, worship God arli^t, 476 
Is yet more kingly: tus attracts the soul. 
Governs the inner man, the nobler port ; 
That other o'er the body only reigna. 
And oft by force, which to a genenua mind 
So reigning, can be no sincere delight. 480 

Besides, to give a kingdom hath been thought 
Greater and nobler done, and to lay down 
Far more magnanimous than to assume. 
Biches are UMdleas then, both fiar themselves. 
And for thy reason why they should be sought, 48C 
To gain a sceptre, oftest better mte'd." 



END OF BOOK SECOND^ 



PARADISE REGAINED. 







Will l^ii'iili ■■■! I rtlii ■ ■ III I II ililil I il II 

S!S=sasK.is«. 

ni dikt bi dnfeu HIU gc thiB nlinat P 
lliiamtamSSmt,lmbaml II 

IMra biHtto*M^ lu wUh 1111111 

1W iSt^lB SHI, ni DwUI Ibnnt uap; 
Vmf rBLppraphrUcimEhaUklDld 



tai idMr, kMjw <i>l iMi'Mni, .ho SnI 1 

MAm,irtiuiBi>aiV'?>!P^'<l°°^. ' 
Ai4 IH7 IHaHlliD wU ba SvdtHKKUon ^ 






^^taKft^^^w^^^ J 



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But'iUu'MillaSU irbHl dxill HW il 



'ith Ihtf f«Dc1i pavtT «>■ irinn hUD th 
SMpflkiduplHUnifliiaWnhljrii. 



..<niu««SuW'd (h«lr tribuH IQ ihH I 
|>allU if cum Si (Mb (t kU Old win I 
WIUi bndiilii ruuM Ihmiill. >ltli 



nl £l||lllom^ Ihu well mUlim 



PARADISE REGAINED. 



asTj 






Men Iten ti/ unu bvfcnT^^LrB mliiv tt«. 
"--^ 'w raj Bind; tboagh !>■■ itunl^l BA 






Oatjaahow^SA 



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Aftbw, >Im In > mont £^ M 
— "- -• wldtDIIiHl -■ 



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1 



A MASK.* 

PRESENTED AT LUDLOW CASTLE, IftlS, 
EARL OF BRIDGEWATER, 






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•ICRgn iHini In IU> Toanu bn ImluM nriilniiii|-i nuiim nion Uwi 
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If V ■ pauvB dH IDOH caMntod juuwaf b|dlA druiKIa pofltn. Ha 






t or oomrs. 












«aL Nq, I««h il,, Itlbnl-.wUibwmnd, KjmlHlllplilin.UtalliMjMMl'r 
riKnsmnil/cliilD'diplDiUbaUT. S;a II wHbm an ll» |W> witti iMpiMiv 



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inS» ■>■ WH nil Iniinin dT LcTllIC, 



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TluM ■£■ <£*wf^ 

Nhci Dili SMliUl nan^daC 
RnHuM wMtpiDi rf s N Il M uw 1lHt> 



Ui 1^ flM M <tirM>. 






Kov k^akf» FHdljRuva 



tW ^m laU, IW apUl vOlfiH. 



SAMSON AGONISTES,* 

A DRAMATIC POEM. 



THE PERSONS. 



THE ARGUMENT. 



« b«D vj U-h of I^^Ls Eoll. 








ri«iilhiilijtiii"i»rt1ripnng, Thj ftifrTT r irtiT 
mirnam jn iTmiIiiI iilr Urn locki? 

KU' <aba Ml •nSkcnkuH iiiiw, 

M) hM ■!! t^Jtm3^ mt »ml DM 




Cbidh Ibh viJrnlUf^ 



Enrt.iminSMi'wLii, ' 
■i 5 lU Bw.wjidj tf mbiM ftnn pl» 
■I aATbEhlod ; 






, gtimr i ili m , » llmmmf UnJ, 
B, I nUHlMntndiwiilMBB Binisn 
_ ' Tl»gMitB|tfjii iiilj ttMMcri« 
N> If ■■ MiW jili fci mfc thm la ftjirf 

« aS^r?i 

B, I Of tola, *ii-d I— 1» Jn Bmi MUmw 

Kd teutT *» I BW dm bj bBTVtnte 
I TpUBB<IijHn,Bllu>iinpinr 




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if J l««t Ivw cmdH UhiD bo^, vba taaf^a Oh 
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Kiiiiwlii|juiMdiIlHii,l71I>Hlietni|V7 MO 

WUcb3$^tL»tm>4IlMbBI»>il''dDtisai, 

jUi^iShdii^ prard Ik- Juu l< wu, 

O^'S^U^tl UlH lHlS'bil|diSn|°*"' 

snv- 1 thnStii «h0B bU a,] cIrdInK rUtt 

Fdoiba mMilDA brauht ronh aibcr dacdt. 

Km >u i^lntn. tnl nTKnr^ Ml 

Bj Ito nnnt. whB CDDtl dtin lha> ■otttH I 



To tekir iq (MltnlalBlB OH nwn 

Wb<H aiKa I lunbwi cuv^t ; 1 know dvui^ 

HebtaTEUnodTmUHnii'd, ud ■m'd. 
AllJ ItPTftMM d ? » >w ■ojiIdH U*tu iMll, 

Ta UA^ -bm dinni mi IM ihilf Dim nnr. 
Bnill III] iJiS^, u!l 9hV»> >°^> <M 



Te pnUHt, dWl wiDlb Ud IHI, ^ * LB4t 10 «w 

jtnmndlU M Invlkin' » uilioni 



•AMtaOW AOOKXBTBS. 




Aid IB ««<i9.>>>i1i»hSL'i£m ! 

Mini HI-MMriM P°«Mi» I'rt fc 
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li vu IfcefM «rm>^*Hti Wf wJifa brt< 

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gM»>)*lllilliih III MiailSliMnf f 










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ran'd tDd ftsdi CM 






€» m i tlht lliUfl m n p> n wUh MT hail uu 






•UamiFUsMlRiiKlwpiollUdaum 






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tpdiSTi^ih. 

iiHUgK>n«*al,cqM<>, nl Hind M<n 

Tp jH* tba PMMt a njj mli^ NuQ^ilPhMr 

FkUj nlMknidniiauwir 

AaJ^id ti ■■ *— i faiht nVfihall— II 

TboB In 4l4 ■■■ an bov ID HUH (hi 
■all iUb aw Oq ■(■ a«(h iji^ 




Or. TflMKk wrm^aanitMtbat 






Cn> •• On Ttoct, ■>< •ko wii «{£> HMb 

"I ■ inniiiih ifiiiBiiiiiiiMii-ii iTtr 




Ofihn ha UK* l Mnu« «) Mm 
PMa ioM UmiiuiilnmalM— tlnmg, 



L'ALLGOBa* 



IL FENSEROSav 



fin UU^il^ Bid Ohd tmill'dhtafiul blii 

For rinc* «lBi Afliillo k« ehurlouB 

fc ifbtfni i^gW AfliMji n JfiH-i ««. 




Mfc'dO^BPMlWll 

Ot did iJlMH«ai'i im MwOl'inU 

Of diQ^u HwTpa, ud (hn, KBH OoddiB Bed, 
iliKs^im bm Mi» D hid! aq lunuM had? 

Or •KtbDuTnSwsO OH fWHI cUlhigTmUi ? 
OrAaain{lDutiiDiaia«dudMKd^^nair 






In A«AT Uw ilAivbffflBr pwjluu, ' 



(hnd(^ lie vm u oAAv fl** 



ssaKiSiiEfiC.."' 



jEiirScSii '■^s'ji''"?!??!!?''"™' 



Of I^M TVmJ, nrOt, <T g-IPr Dm, 



^B p«tt niluiplltn frnoftlwia did tai. 
ThulHDUidSSl^IHWi ilJ^ nlsu 
AMilOiliuhtbBnitklu apeniiuil 



^K^sar^^ass 



A%t4 ATOVkni ID thi Tubm-God P 






WKhnin^ -dCiEtii loiiniu cbiii 



BnidlDi Gdu wflj Tbc&^adtv indAA 



The nm Umaelf vilhlidd lili voBted 4pMd. 
AndMdblsbMdibrihaDie, M 

As his inftrlor flame 

The new enllgfaten'd wovld no more dundd need ; 
He saw.a graater Sun appear 
Than his bright thntne, or bunlng axlatzM^ ooold 
bear. 



VIII. 



85 



90 



The shepherds on the lawn. 
Or era the point of dawn. 

Sat timply chatting in a rustle Mir j 
Foil little thoo^t they then. 
That the migh^ Fan 

Was kindly come to live with them below; 
Perhaps their loves, or else their iheep. 
Was 111 tfiat did their sillj thoogfati sobtur keep. 

IX. 

When mch music sweet 
Their hearts and ears did greet, 

As never was by mortal nnger strook; 96 

SiTindy-warbled Toioe 
Answenng the stringed noise. 

As all meir souls in blissful raptnre took : 
The air, such pleasures loth to lose. 
With fiiaosana echoes stiU prokngs evA taesveidT 
dose. 100 



Nature that heard such sound. 
Beneath the hoUow round 

Of CynthiA's seat, the aiiy ngLm dudOing, 
Now was almost won 
To tUnk her part was done, 109 

And Uiat her reign had here its last fUfilling { 
She knew txuh hasmoa^ alone 
Could held all Heuren.aud Earth in happfarnnioii. 

ZI. 

At last snireunds" their sight 

A ^bbe of eireular light, 110 

That with long beams the tfisme-fiM'd night ar- 
TSte helmed Checofakm, \.t»9'A i 

And sworded Senphim, 

Are seen in glitteringranks with wings dirolay'd. 
Harping in loud and solemn quire, XHeir. 

UnOk uneqprassire notes* to Hecvan'a aow-bam 






of memiBg sung. 



ISO 



1S5 



Sndi music (as 'ds said) 
Bcfiwe was never made. 

But when of old tlie • 
While the Creator great 
Bb oonstdlation set. 

And tlie wdl-balaac'd world on binges hmg. 
And cast the dark foundations deep. 
And bid the weltling waves their 00^ dianael keep. 
XIU. / 

Ring out, ye cmtal S phere s, 
Ohce bkss our human eon, 

(If ye have power to toueh our 
And let your silver chime 
More in melodious time ; 

And let the base of Heaven's deep organ ldow;130 
And witli vour ninefaid hamonv 
Kake up ftall ooncert to th' angelic qrmphony. 

/ XIV.. 

Wat n sveh bdy song 
Inwnp our fimcy hmfib 

Time wUl run back, and frldi the aoe of gold t 
And speckled Vanltv 138 

Will ncken soon ma die. 

And levmus Sin will melt firom earthly nooldi 
And Hdntielf wiU pass away, [day. 

AxA leave her doloirous mansjoM to the peering 



XV. 



141 



Tm, TnOk and Jnttioe thci^ 
Will down return to men, 

Orb'd in a rainbowj and, like Tories wtaiing. 
If erey will sit between, 
Thron'd in celestial dieen, 145 

With radiant fiset the tissued clouds down steer- 
And Heaven, as at some festival, fixurt 

Will open wide die gates of her high palan nail. 

y xvL 

Sat wisest Fate sagn no, 
fUfnnstnotyeibesc^ 150 



113 

The lUbe yet nee fat anJUng fadhBcy. 
That on the bitter cress 
Must redeem our Iom ; 

So both himself and us to n^orify : 
Tet first, to those ychaln'd in sleep, 15A 

The wanAil trump of doom mustUnnider duoub 
the deep; 

XVII. 

With sudi a hotxid clang 
As on mount Staud rang. 
While tiue red fire and smouldering clouds ont- 
brake; 
The aged earth aghast, 160 

With temr of that blast. 

Shall firom the snxlace to the centre shake ; 
When at the world's last session, [throne. 

The dreadfiil Judge in middle air shall spread his 

XVJII. 

And then at las< our bliss 165 

Full and perfect is, 

Butnowb^S^ns; finr firem fUs happy day 
Th' old Dragoa under ground 
In straitcr limiu bound. 

Not half so far casts- his usurped sway, 170 

And, wroth to see his kingdom ikil. 
Swinges the scaly horror of his fUdied taiL 

XIX. 

The oracles are dumb. 
No voice or hideous hum 

Runs through the arched reof la words decdviiuN 
ApoUo firom his shrine 176 

Can no more divine. 

With hollow shri^ die steep of DdphM leaving. 
No nlghtl/ trance, or breathed spell, 
Inqdras * 



Uv trance, or oreatned spell, 

tae pale-^d priest firom the prophetic oelL 



XX. 



181 



The lendy mountains «^er 
And the resounding shore,' 

A voice of weeping heard and loud lament; 
From haunted spring and dale, 
E^dwidi poplar pale, 185 

The partfiig Genius u with sibling sent: 
With iknrer-mwoven tresses torn, f moiim. 

ThaNympta^, hi twilight shade tftai«lcd ttiioketf, 

XXL 

In oenaeorated earth. 

And on the holy heardi, 190 

The Lars, and Lemures moan with midnii^t 
In urns and altars round, [plaJnt; 

A drear and dying sound 

Afflrighu the Flamens at their servloe quaint ; 
And dio rhlll marble seems to sweat, 195 

While eadi peculiar Power fimgoes Ids wonted seat^ 

XXIL 

Peor and Baalim 
Forsake their temples dim. 

With that twioe>battcCd god of PahBtino; 
Atkd mooned Ashtareth, 100 

Heaven's.queen and mother bodu 

Now sits not girt with tapers' holy shrine ; 
The Lybio Hanunon shrinks his horn, £moum. 
In vain the Tjvian maids their wounded ThamnsBs 

XXIII. 

And snlkn Melodi fled. 
Hath left in shadows dread 

His burning idol all of biacfcesthne; 
In vain, with cymbals' rlng^ 
They call the ^idy king. 

In dismal dance about the fumaoe blue : 
The brutish gods of Nile as ftst, 
Us and Ox«^ and the dog Anobisa 1 

XXIV. 



Ikud: 
wifli lewinga 



aio 



NorisOdrisi 

In Memphian aiure tn (tveen, 

TramplliiK Uie unshower'a 
Nor can ne m at rest 
Withhi his sacred chest ; 

Nought but profinmdest Hdl can b« Ui aluraad ; 
In Tain with timbrePd anthems dark 
The sable-stoled sorcerers bear hia vonUlpp'd ack. 

XXV. 



He feels firom Judah's land 
The dreaded InfiuU's band, 

8 



tan 






'n^nJMbmj xAl ^ ^'^''^ ^IiBt 



"^^^i«_^l''lS5i.'. . ""5 



In wiDtrj A^Ain like (1» ibaTM^ Ugbt [ntsftt. 
Bdm ivAllW'd up ia a»kt vtil Loof ouIJIiLiw 

And HI luy huT la notn of WU«t v». 
Which OD oudEantl Lom did H]f£ Fn low, ID 
Dturn, ud Diun, nnd -i:am,«ad vtn* tban 1^ 
Wbfoh be ^ ui did freelj uod^^ ; 

Ma«t ))«tAcI HHhc trlfd In twaitBl pURbt 



Kn •pt.te luiunibl ttlftgi. 



?^.^Hs; 



.r H^.^ rowd If W lb* iMPJpfijmmpl'l pj 
And iIdE aijWf wMh -ill ill j -™b dm 
Wbuk U 10 nun Um 'IW U I>lK aiul •: 

And IHA of tU tbf STwIf Hlf GMWUB^ 
'^■^FD IDTW EMollJ Ihldl PVL ODl bllH 
ittujDdMdn^ktHE 



L)muDoa<jdtl. W 



<tKn ludftiHli prtOxcd, and 



OriufAl iuOa bin III nu (laa : 

JA« ■£<■ oWun <H, ilili •onnUDi snut, U 



» Jtw, dBUghUT Of TbomH 



Now thv bfiriHMomlnr*". ^^j!]P^'?S^' 
tS* ^^^3l3l 'SSd^ell. wKSE.'"''" 
Wootl!,«oi^Fini ■»-'■'—' '-- 



TlBlibo»iroCan"|wlnpLf5iioiief? IbotM, 
l^isc IVIpUe Un*i with dnp ImpniilDQ IDOt ; 

ThSriK^ &OCJ '''i»™^'^'^s^,|_, 

A™1. « iBpnlEhnd, in nicll pomp Jort U*, IS 

That Uup, en mcli » tomb, w«ild wab w die. 




ABdkHpnatfHdjNMMlolufWi TO 










UnCai bulk III. Kliwud>UIMilu4 bin da 
Unll fin bM) <«^wl dujwHnliu^ obH 



niiilhlli li«l iiaimiwIinB lill>| liOlll 







Thi ■imlfMillTliB I iiiiin I liJilum' 19 

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Qfl U Ekplii'* pwt had th* poirtr 

* la tlia mmi a ijilU afW tte tHh, li tUtt 
IMI. lt«iIiHinubRaiatiiaid2aiinH 

MgtJuJ nldi Uiu^u^n •• nipiHiirl. lait 



HuDliriUl IDOl lOMIIira 1 now BUimi toTJ i 
Thit »i«ll *■•• m* (WjJ™!" •[™J™l 8" 



'^^^i^^ 



Woi4< >It1i inl nsji ud inml, ml to •cut 

Witt '"**'"T'±j??""tiftS; d^ aSK. 

Wnih pnlH Bmugh Bir*i»jr ta ta* >u j^^ 
T»« ■liSmiiinli ilr Buia bumit W — 



I ihalltf** Fam* k'rt ra HI Ihn hkRHGT 



r/ia^' 






■}^ voTht» and alnu, 4Dd tU Uij i«d ■ndei™', B 
B^b FkUb ptfnvd vilh her (oUn nd, 
l-hj bmjl-mjlili, did Itian ff* «ib P"^ 






Hk bnSii lofDc. u lap tbdr Bfail wlDill. 
nirmrftln-riitrTrrl'T'^T I 



■H nu^Uidi mrua. 



II »«tc« jyi o^ md tV ^m 1^ 
» drS of luiCTS^ bud ■ bi «^>) I 

u> D^iko '"' ' ™ "g ^^ ssiii. 



lA fUlli. lOd HCbOBI tlVfl taR ^dOI Hd, 



jBoei«Wy,hBliidBnlBl«iol*«ni'ffl'">ne»l 
D UjoMI-lijiJ b™™ « '^'"'-^^ 

iiililiiioiinrf^iii FilHl". "UK ilogt 

«"iro*l'wif"K'3L 



IW ijjw all jlj ^g* Jj}"* — ' "^ 






IlM St)- Bll I«4 UM BMv mil HT — IB.' 



'^^s^^csrss^hJi'^s?' 






^^-■J^, 







PSALMS. 



PSALM I. 



[Done into 



1653.] 



BLE8S1> 1> die man who liatli not walM aitny 

In coomel of the wicked, and i' th' w^r 

Of sinnen hath not atoo^ and in tlie aeat 

Ofwonienhathnotiat: but in the gteet 

Jehov^** law is ever his delist, 6 

And in his law he studies, day and ni^t. 

He shall be as a tree which planted crows 

By waf IT streams, and in hu season knows 

To Yield his fruit, and his leafshall not Ml, / 

And what he takes in hand stiall proqier all. 10 

Not so die wicked, bat as chaff which &nn'd 

The wind driTe«, so the wicked ihall not stand' 

In judgment, or abide their trial then. 

Nor stmiers in th' assembly ofjnst men* 

For the Lord knows die upright way of the Just, 15 

And the vay of bad men to rain mustt 



PSALM II. 
lOone August 8, 1653.] 

TtnutH. 

WHY do the Gentiles tnmnlt, and the nations 
Muse a Tain thing, the kings of th' earth upstand 
With power, and princes in their congregations 

Lay deep their plots together ihrou^ each land 
Against the Lord and his Messiah dear ? 5 

Let us break off, say tliey, Iiy strength of hand 

Tlieir bonds, and cast from us, no mace to wear. 
Their twisted cards : He, who In heuTen doth 

dwell. 
Shall laugh; the Lord shall scoff them; then 
seTere 

Speak to Oiem in his wrath, and in his fell 10 

And fierce ire trouble them ; but I, saith he. 
Anointed haTe my King f though ye rebel) 

On Sion my holy' hilL A firm cucKe 
I will declare: the Lord to me hafh said« 
Thou art my Scm, I have begotten thee 15 

Thisday; ask of roe, and the grant is made; 
Ja thy peasesiion I on thee bestow 

The Heatticn; and as thy conquest to be sway'd. 

Earth's utmost bounds : them shalt thou bring full 
low 
With iron sceptre bnds'd, and them disperse 90 
Like to a pottefs vessel shiTer'd w. 

And now be wise at length, ye kiiuss aTerae, 
Betau|dit,yejudgesof ueearm; with fear 
JdiOTan serre, and let your joy conTerse 

Widx trembling; kiss die Son lest he appear 35 
In aiwer, and ye perish in the way. 

If once ms wrath take fire, like fbel 



PSALM III. 

lAagnst9,1653.] 

fnkmheJUdfrmmAbtahin. 

LORU, how many are my fines ! 

How many thotei 
. That in arms against me rise ! 

Many are they. 
That of my fife distrustflilly thus say ; 
No hdp fer him in God thoe lies. 
Jhtt thou. Laid, art my shield, n^glovy. 



15 



10 



Aloud I cried n^ 

. ^•^•y«>^«*.l»eft»U80onwpUed, 
Ana iieara me from his holy mount. 
I lay and ^t ; I wak'd again ; 

For my sustain 
WastheLocd. Of many millians 

The populous rout 
I fear not, though ati>.n m rt n» round ft F* H it . 
They Pitch against me their paTilions. 
iUae, Lord ; save me, my God; finr thou 
^ ^ . Hast smote, ere now. 
On the cheek-bone^ aU my feesj 

Of men abhoir'd 
Hast tooke the teeth. This help was ftena die 
_^ Lovd; 

TI9 Ueasingon diy people flows. 



PSALM IV. 
{Angoit 10, 1653.] 

ANSWER me when I call, 

God of my righteousness; 

In straits, uua. in distress. 

Thou didst me disinthral 

And set at large; now.spaie, 5 

Now pi^ me, and liear my eameit ptmyer. 
Great ones, how long will ye 
My glory hisTO in scam ? 
How long be thus fbrbom 

Still to love Tanityi' ' 10 

To loTe, to seek, to price 

Things fUse and Tain, and nothing else Imt lies ? 
Yet know the Lord hath chose. 
Chose to mmself aparu 
The good and meek of heart; 15 

iPor whom to choose he knows) 
rehoTsh firom on high 

Will hear mj Totoe, what time to him I cry. 
Be awed, and do not sth; 

Speak to your liearts alone, go 

upon your beds, each one. 
And be «t peace within ; 
Offer the offerings just 
~ Of righteousness, and in JdioTah trust. 
Many there be that say, S5 

Who yet will shew us good? 
Talking like this woriiTs brood; 
But, Lord, thus let me pray; 
On us lift up the light, 

Liftupthe&Tourocthy oountfnanoetei^t. 30 
Into mf neart more Joy 
And gladness thou hast pnl^ 
Than when a year of glut 
Their stores doth over-cloy. 
And firom their plenteous grounds 35 ' 

With Test increase their corn and wine abounds. 
In peace at once will I 
Both lay me down and sleep ; 
For thou alone dost keep 

Me safe where'er I lie; 40 

Aa in a rocky cell 

ThoH, Locdl alone, hx safety maktt ne dwell. 



PSALM V. 
[August IS, 1653.] 

JEHOVAH! tomywexdsgiTeear, 
Mymeditatlaii wci|^ ; 
The Tstoe of uay oemplalniiig hear, 
My KingandGud; fermtotfaaelptay. 




^i^Sj wtS tmi^iMi hig mi • ami i 

I n iiiiiSrJM i"l 11 III 1' 1 TiTlil II II. 
^^ag ii. Ol MJl hov tafp Tm, Lori. 

ritrSsitttUmhKwmDimllmuitit. I 

lblimUoJ!lM^lh<«aFUHS>Ur ^^^ 

Til., ■■■liiii liiliftill^i Ml" mi 1iilvT°*' 



t<nDp nqOnd, H ^M I£ri 



KJWiiWttis.r" 



iBdJMu l> Uir Nu IkHB^ (U &• 



OHHnAniHinfnt: t>*B Midi iwh— rtt 



19« 

O'er the vorks etOn^haaA flioa mad'il him Lord, 
Thou haet put all under his lordly feet; 

All flocka, and herds, bj thv commandiiifr word. 
All beafU that in the field or finest meet; SO 

Fmrl of the heavens, and fidi that thxoogh flie 
wet 

Sea-patlis in shoals do sUde, and know no dearth : 
O Jdiovah oar Lord, how wondrous great 

And gunions is thy Name through all die earth ! 



F8ALM LXXX. 

[April, 1648. J. M.] 

Nine of the Psalms done into metre, wherein all, 
but what is distinguished by inverted commas, 
axe the verr words of the text translated flrom 
the original. 

I THOU, Shepherd, that dost Israel ' keep* 

Give ear 'in time of nttid :' 

Who leadest like a ilock of slieep 

' Thy loved' Joseph's seed ; 

That sitt'st between the Chcmbs' bright,' 6 

' Between tlieir wings outspread ;' 
Shine fiirth, * and from their cloud give lli^t,' 

* And on our fees thy dxcad.' 

S In Bphraim's view and Benhunin's, 

And in Manasse's tight, 10 

Awake* thy strength, come, and * be seen' 
<To^ save us ' by thy ndght.' 

5 Turn us, again ; ' thy grace divine' 

* To us,' O God, * vondisafb ;' 

Cause thotf thy &ce on us to sbine, 15 

And then we sball.be safe. 

4 Lord God of Hosts ! how long wilt thou. 
How long wilt thou declare 
Thy t smoking wrath, ' and angry brow* 
Aiprinstthypeople^spn^er.' 80 

6 Thou feed'st them with the bread of tears; 

Their bread with tears they eat j 
And mak'st them ^ largely drink the tears 

* Wherewith their cheeks are wet.' 

6 A strife thou mak'st us ' and a prey* 8A 

To eveiy neighbour foe ; 
Among themselves they | laug^, they plsgr, | 
And I flouU at us they throw. 

7 Bctum us, ' and ihy grace divine,' 

OGodofHoste! vouchsafe;' 30 

Cause thou thy feoe on us to shine. 
And then we shall be safe. 

8 A vine from Egypt thou bast brought, 

* Thy free love made it thine,' 

And dnivlit out nations ' proud and haugbt,* 35 
To plant this ' lovely* vine. 

9 Thou didst prepare for it a place. 

And root it osep and fest, 
That it ' began to grow apace,' 
<Aad*mrdtbefimd'ath»t.' 40 

10 Wifli her ' green* shade that covei'd ' all.' 

The hills were ' overspread :* 

Her boughs as < high as' cedars taU 

' Advanc'd their krfty head.' 

I I Her brandies * on the western side' 45 

Down to the aea she sent. 
And < upward* to that river ' wide«> 
Her other branches ' went.* 

IS Why hast thou laid her hedges Iove, 

And broken down her fence, 50 

That all may pluck her, as they go, 
« With rudest violence ?' 



13 The * tusked' boar, out of the wood. 
Up turns it by the roots; 
Wila beasts there browse, and make their food 
* Her gnqpes and tender shoots.' 56 



14 Return new, God eTRtels! look down 

From heav^, tiHy seat divine; 
Behold ' us, but without a frown,* 
And vidt this ' thy* vine. 

15 Visit this vine, which Ay right hanj 

Hath set, and planted Oonc.* 
And tiie voung branch, that tnr thyself 
Thou bast made firm and Strang. 

16 But now it is oonsnm'd with fire. 

And cut * with axes' down ; 
They perish at thy dreadflil ire. 
At thy rebuke and frown. 

17 Upon the man of thy rigfat hand 

Let ttiy 'good* band be * laid;' 
Upon tlw son of man, whom thoa 
Strong for thyself hast made. 

18 So shall we. not go bock from thee 

' To ways of su and shame ;' 
Quicken us thou ; then ' gladly* we 
Shall call upon tfaj Name. 

19 Return us, ' and diy giuce dlvhte,' 

Lord God of Hosts! ' vouchsafe ;* 
Cause thou thy face on us to shine. 
And then we shall be safe. 



PSALM LXXXL 

1 TO God our strength singIoud< and dear/ 
Sing loud to God ' our King :' 
To Jacob's God, ' that all may hear,' 
Loud acclamations ring. 

S Prepare a hymn, prepare a song. 
The timbrel hither bring ; 
The ' cfaeexftir psaltery bring along. 
And harp * with' pleasant ' stiing.* 

3 Blow, ' as is went,* in Ae new moon 
With trumpets' * lofty sound.' 
Th' ai^nted time, die day whereon 
Our solemn feast ' comes round.' 

' 4 This was a statute ' given of old,' 
For Israel ' to observe ;' 
A law of Jacob's God, ' to hold,' 
* From whence they might not swerve.' 

5 This he a testimony* ordain'd 

In Jos-iph, • not to change ;* 
When as he pau'd through E^Rypt land; 
The tongue 1 heard was strange. 

6 From burden, * and from ilavish toil,' 

I set his shoulder free : 
His hands from pots, < and mlsy soil,' 
Delivei'd were ' liy me.* 

7 When trouble did thee son assail, 

< On me then' didst diou call ; 
And I to free thee ' did not ftU,' 
* And led thee out of thralL' 

I •mwer'd thee in •.thunder deep 
With clouds incompass'dTOUna ; 

I tried thee at the water ' steep' 
OfMeriba'renown'd.' 

8 Hear, O my people, ' hearken wen, 

I testify to tliee, 
* Thou ancient stock of* Israel, 
If thou wilt list to me : 

9 .Throughout the land of thy abode 

No alien god shall be, 
Nor Shalt thou to a foreign god 
In honour bend thy knee. 

ID I am the Lord thy God, whSdl brooght 
Thee out of Egypt land ; 
Ask large enough.and I, 'besougnt. 
Will grant thy flill demand. 



9) 



66 



70 



75 



80 



10 



15 



90 



SJ 



30 



35 



40 



* Onorera. f Onashanta. i Shalish. | Jilgnagu. 



* Be Sctbar ragnam. 



1» 



lOriik'd me ftr his dMioe. 

IS Then did I leave Oem to Oefr viO, 
And to Ibeir waitd*iiiv mind; 
Thdr own conceitB tfaer fbOofw^ tlill, 
llieir ova device* bond. 

13 O Oak nir people would ' be vim,' 
'TV mne me ' aU their days? 
And O, Oat Isael vuDld < adTte' 
To^ valk my ' ri^teoas' vayi ! 



14 Then voaU I MOB brii« dovn their tiet, 
* That now so proodW lim;* 
And tnxn mj hand mfit * aU thme* 
'That are' their ( 



15 Who hate the Lord ahoold ' ttien be fiun' 
' To' bow to him and bend ; 

But ' ibgjf liis peonle, thonld remain/ 
TlMir time •Doaid nave no end. 

1 6 And he voold feed diem ' fimn flie shock' 

With flower of finert wheat. 
And mtii^r them from the nxA 
Widi honqr * ftr their meat.' 



PSALM LXXZU. 



45 



50 



55 



80 



65 



1 GOD fai the* great 'aacmUy stands 
' Oridiin and lordly states;' 
Amonj; I die gods, t on both his hands 
He jBoges and debates. 

S How loi« will yet pervert the zi^t 5 

With f jod^iatt fidse and wroog, 
Fkvoazina tlw wicked. ' by your mi^t,' 
* Who tbenoe grow Dola and stxoQg ?* 

3 R«gud 9 die week i and fetfaeriess. 

Dispatch) die poor } man's caase, 10 

AndJ raise die man in deep digress 
By I just and oqnal laws. 

4 Defend die poor and desolate. 

And rescue from tlie hands 
Of wicked men the low estate 15 

Of him < that help demands.* 

5 They know not, nor win nndctctand. 

In darkness diey walk on; 
Tlie earth's feandatiaBs all axe T mov'd. 
And If oat of eider gone. f 

Isaidthatyewenjnds;_jea,all 

The sonsflf God Host Hiidi ; 
7 BatyeshaUdleUkenien,andfeU 

As other podnoes ' die.' 

Bise, God ; •• Judge dum the eanfa ' in mlgh^' ^2 

This * wicked> earth redress; 
For thon art he wlio ahalt by right 

Tlie nations all 



PSALM LXXXIU. 

1 BE not Cboa silent ' now at length,' 
O God ! bold not thy peace ; 
Sitthonnotstm: O God of ' strength/ 
' We cry, and do not cease/ 

S For lo. thy 'ftixloiis' foes' now' tt swell 5 

Ana f f stonn oatrageoosly. 
And diey that hate thee 'pnMid and fell* 
Exalt tbdr heads foil hi^. 

3 A^nst thy people they tt contrive 

Their ff plots and counsels deep ; 10 

Them || to insnare diey chiefly stxlve. 
Whom lY thoa dost hide and keep. 

* Bagnadadi-el. t Bekerev. f Tishpheta gnavel. 
t Shhthto-dal. | Hatzdikn. ^ Jimmotu. 
**Shiphta. ft Jehemi^an. 

%t Jagnazimn. i} Sod. || Jirtl^agnatsu gnal. 
11 Tsephnneca. 



That Israeli name fcr < 
Beloetin] 



5 For (hqrooBsnlt'widi an dMix mighty 

And all, as one In mind, 
Tlieniselves gainst thee dwy united 
And in film anion bind. 

6 ThetBnlsofEdam,andtliebnod 

Of ' BoomfUrishmael, 
Mo^ widi them otUagK^ blood; 
< That in the desert dwdl :* 

7 Gdial and Ammon ' dme oonspfae/ 

And ' hateiU* Amaiee, 
The Philistines, and diey ctTjrt, 
' Whose bomids the sea dodi cfae^ ;' 

8 With diem 'gnatfAdinr aim bands, 

( And doth confirm die knot : 
' AU these have lent their anned hands' 
To aid die sons of Lot. 

9 Do to themes to Midian' bold,* 

'That wasted all tlie coast/ 
To Siseta; and, as ' is told/ 
' Thoa didsf to Jabin's 'host/ 

' When* at the brook of Kidion ' old/ 
' Th^ were repols'd and slain, 

10 At Endor qnlte cat off; and rdU'tf 

As dung upon the plain. 

11 As Zeb andOreb evil sped, 

So let their princes speed ; 

As Zeba, andZalmonna ' bled,* 

So let their princes ' bleed.' 

1< 'Far diey amidst didr pride* have said. 
By lic^t now shall we seize 
GodS hottscs, * and wHI now invade' 
Their f atatdy palaces. 

IS MyGodI oh make them as a wheel, 
'No quiet let them find ;' 
Giddy and < resdess* let ' them red* 
Like stubble firom the wind. 



15 



SO 



«5 



38 



3* 



40 



45 



50 



14 As ' when' an ' aged' weed takes fire 

* Which on a sadden strays,' 
The ' greedy* flame runs higher and higfiar 55 
Till all the mountains Uaze; 

15 So with thy whirlwind them pozsoe. 

And with thy tempest diaae ; 

16 And, ± till din f yield thee honoor doe. 

Lord! fiUwidi shame their fece. CO 

17 Ashamed, and troubled let them be. 

Troubled, and shamni for ever ; 
Ever confoiuided, and so die 
With diame, ' and scape ic never.' 

18 Then diall dicy know, that Thou, whose name 

Jdiovah is alone, 66 

Art the Most High, ' and diou die same* 
Ote all the eiordi ' art One !' 



PSALM LXXXIV. 

1 HOW lovdT are thy dwellings &ir! 
O Leid or Hosts, how dear 
The 'pleasanf tobemacles are, <^ 

* Where di^ dost dwell so near f 

S MtmnI doth long and almost die 5 

Thy courts. O Lord, to see. 
My heart andfledi aloud do cry, 
O living God J fis thee. 

3 There e'en die sparrow 'flreed firom wrong' 

Hath fentid a boose of 'rest;' 18 

The swallow there, to lay her yoaag 
Hath built her ' brooding' nest; 



L3 



* Lev Jachdsu. 
f Neotfa Elohlr been both. 
t They seek thy Name. HeU 



}9S 

£'en by ttqr ■ItaiBf heUA tTflWrts, 

•They find their safe abode;' ^ .^ ,, 
* And home they Sftnm nmnd the coudf 15 
« Tovazd thee/ my Kiag^ my God I 

4 Happy, who In thy boose reside. 

>^cre thee th^ eTer praise ! 
6 Happy, whose strBngth In thee doth liide. 

And in thirlr hearts thy ways ! 80 

6 They pass throtufa Baca's ' tlilrsty* valo. 

* That dry and barren ground ;' 
As through a fiiiitful wat'iy dale 
Where springs and showers abound. 

7 They ioumey on firom strength to strength 85 

' with Jot and gladsome cheer/ 
< Till' all MiDre ' ouf Uod ' at length' 
In Slon do appear. 

8 Lord Ood of HoeU I hear ' now' my prayer, 

O Jacob's Ood give ear ; 30 

9 Thou Ood, our shield, look on the net 

Of thy anointed * dear.' 

10 For one day in thy courts ' to be* 

Is better, ' and more bless'd/ 
Than • in the joys of ranity* 85 

A thousand days ' at best.' 

I, in the temple of my Ood, 

Had rather keep a door. 
Than dwell in tento, ' and rich abode/ 

With sin, ' for evermore.' 40 

11 For Ood the Lord, both son and shield, 

OlTea grace and glory ' bright ;' 
No good firom the<u shall be withheld 
W^ioae ways axe Just and right. 

' l«Loxd'Ood'afHosU!*th«treign'stonhlfl^;'45 
That nian is ' truly' bless'd. 
Who ' only* on thee doth rely. 
And in thee only rest. 



PSALM LXXXV. 

1 TH7 land to GiToor graciously 
Thou hfest not. Lord, been slack ; 
Thou hast firom ' hard' captiTl^ 
Returned Jacob back. 

5 Th' iniquity thou didst forglTe 5 

* That wrought' thy people woe ; 
And all their dn, * that did thee gric»e,' 
Hast hid ' where none shall know.' 

8 Thine anger all tliou hadstremov'd. 

And • calmly* didst return 10 

From thy * fierce wrath, which we had prr/V*d 
Far worse than fire to bum. 

4 God of OUT saving health and peace ! 
Turn US, and ua restore ; 
Thine indignation cause to cease 15 

Toward us, ' and chide no more.' 

6 Wilt thou be angry without end. 

For ever angry thus ? 
Wilt thou thy frowning ire extend 
From age to age on us ? 

6 Wilt thou not f turn, and * hear ow volet/ 

And us again t revive. 
That so thy people may r^ce , 
By thee preserv'd alive i* 

7 Cause nsto see thy goodness. Lord, 

To us thy mercy shew ; 
Thy saving health to ns affbra, 
' And life in us renew.' 

9 * And now/ what God the Lord will 

I will < go stralsbt and' hear. 
For to his people be speaks peace. 
And to bis sainu ' lull dear/ 



To his dear niirts he win 

But let tbem never 
Bcturn to fiiUy, * but 

' To trespass as-beCoie.' 

9 Btiiely,toBQcliasdoMfflft«r 
Salvation is at hand ; 
Andgloiy shall * ere long appear* 
< T%' dwell within our land. 



S5 



40 



10 Mercy and Truth * that long were ndss'd,' 

Now • terfiiUy' are met ; 
* Sweet' Peace and Rirhteoosness have Uas'd, 
' And hand in handare set.' 

11 Truth from the earth, 'Uke to a flower/ 45 

Shall bud and blossom * then ;' 
And Justice, firom her heavenly bower. 
Look down * "" ■••"»'■' ■»«—»-' 



20 



fi5 



SO 



* Heb. ' The burning heat of thy wrath.' 
i HeU ' Turn to quicken vs.* 



' on mortal men. 



18 The Lord wUl also then bestow 
Whatever thing is good ; 
Our land shall forth in plen^ throw 
Her firulta ' to be our Ibod.' 

13 Before him Righttfoosncas shall go, 
' HU royal harbinger :' 
Then * will he come, and not be alow; 
His footsteps cannot en. 



PSALM LXXXVI. 

1 THY* gracious' ear, O Lord! Incline, 

hear me, ' I thee pray;' 
For I am pour, and almost pine 

With need, ' and sad decay.' 

2 Preserve my soul ; fior I have trod 

Thy ways, and love the just. 
Save thou thy servant, O my Oodl 
Who ' stiir in diee doth trust. 

^ Pity me, Lord, far dallv thee 

4 I call; Omakerrioioe 

Thy servant's soul ; for. Lord, to thee 

1 lift my soul ' and voioe.' 

5 For thou art good, thov. Laid! an prone t 

To pardon, thou to all 
Art flill of mercy, thou ' alone' 
To them that on thee caU. 

6 Unto my supplication. Lord, 

Give ear, and to the cry 
Of ray * incessanf prayers afford 
Thy hearing graciously. 

7 I, in the day of my distress. 

Will caU on thee ' far aid;* 
For thou wilt < grant' me ' firee aoceai/ 
* And' answer * what I pray'd.' 

8 Like thee among the gods is none, 

Lord ; nor any works 

* Of all that other gods have done* 
Like to tiiy ' glorious* workfc 

9 The Nations all whom thou hast made 

Shall come, ' and all shall firanW 
To bow them low before thee. Lord, 
And glorify thy Name. 

10 For great fhou art, and wonden great ^ 

By thy strong htoid are done; 
Thou, ' in thy everlasting scat/ 
Bcmainest God alone. 

11. Teach me, O Lard, thy way ' meat xi^t;' 

1 in thy truth wiU bide; 

To firar thy name my heart unite, 
' So shaU It never sUde/ 

18 Thee villi I praise, O Lord my Ood! 
' Thee Iwnoar and adore' 
With my whole heart, and blaze abroad 
Thy name for evermore. 



50 



55 



10 



1ft 



<ft 



SO 



35 



40 



•Heb. « He win set his steps to the way/ 
4 Heb. 'lam good, loving, a doer flf good 
holy things.' 



m 



18 For giw* itiy mercy i» toWrf m*, 
Aig than hast freed nrr wml. 
Ewn fixnn the lowest heU aet freej 



' ITraiii tlwp i i t 



foaL' 



45 



60 



S5 



60 



:<0 



14 O God, the proad Bgainst me rite. 

And fiolent men are met 
To nek my life, and in their ejea 
No fieax of tbee have Mt. 

15 Bat tfaoa. Lord, art Ow God mart mild. 

Readiest thj grace-to shew. 
Slow to be anpr, and * art styl'd' 
Most mercuui, aoost true. 

16 O, tarn to me *fliy face at length,' 

And me baire mercy on ; 
Unto ttiy serrairt 0Te thy eUvngtb, 
And laTO Oxj handmatfs md. 

1 7 Some sign of good to me afford. 

And fet my foes * then' lee. 
And be adiam'd ; becanae thoa. Lord, 
Post help and oomlbrt me. 



PSALM LXXXVII. 

1 AMONG the holy lAoontains * hi^* 

Is his foundation fast ; 
' «Theie seated in Us sanctauy,' 

* His temple there Is plac'd.' 

« Sion's ' fair* gates (be Lord lores more 
Than all the dveUincs * fair' 
Of Jacob's ' land, thon^ there be store,' 
( And an wKhin his care.' 

5 Ci^ofOod,most^nnoiiaaiags 
Of thee ' abroad^are spoke ; 

4 I mention Egypt, * where proud kingr 

* Did our fbare&thers yoke :' 

I mention Babel to my friends, 

Philistia ' full of scorn ;' 
And Tyre with Ethiops" ' utmost ends,' 

Lo, mis man ttiere was bom: 

5 But 'twice that praise Shan in our eat* 

Be said ofSion* last;' 
This, w"'^ this man was bom in her ; 
h4^ God shall fix her fast. 

6 The Lord siiall write it in a scroll 

That ne'er shall be out- worn. 
When he the nations doth enrol. 
That this man there was bom. 

7 Both they who sing, and they who dance, X5 

* With sacred aongs are there,' 

In thee ' fresh broolcs, and soft streams gUmoe,' 

* And, all my fountains * clear.' 



PSALM LXXXVIII. 

1 LORD God! that dost me sbtb and keep. 
All day to thee I ciT J 
And all nii^t long bennre thee weep. 
Before tbee * prostrate lie.' 

5 Into thy presence let my prayer 

' With sighs derout ascend ;' 
And to my cries, that ' ceaseless are,' 
Thine ear with favour bend. 

3 For, doy'd with woes and trouble sore, 

Surchsrg'd my soul 'doth lie ; 
M; lifa, ' at Death's uncheeiAil door; 
tJnto the graTe draws nigh. 

4 Reckon'd I am with them that pass 

Down to the 'dismal' pit; 
I am a * man, but weak, alas ! 15 

And far that name unfit. 

6 From life dischaxs'd and parted qpifee 

Among the deM to 'sleep;' 



10 



15 



SO 



10 



50 



* Heb. 'A man without manly stiength.' 



And Bfce the tfahi In 'btaOr Jlf^t' 
That in dM grave Be < deep.' 

Whom tlHn remembereet no mcn^ 

Dost never more regard. 
Them from thy hand deliver'd o'tf 

' Death's hideous house hath bair'd.' 

6 Thou in the lowest pit 'profonnd' 25 

Hast set me ' all foriom,' 
Where diickestdarkncss < hovers round,' 
In honid deeps 'to mourn.' 

7 Thy wrath, ' from wliich no shdter saves. 

Full sore doth press on me ; 30 

Thou * break'st upon me all thy waves. 
And * all thy waves break me. 

8 Thou dost my friends from me estrange. 

And mak'st me odious. 
Me to them odious, 'fior they diai^e,' 35 

And I here pent up thus. 

9 Throng sorrow, and afllictko great. 

Mine eye grows dim and deaa ; 
Lord ! all the dav I thee intxeat. 
My hands to titee I spread. 40 

10 Wilt thou do wonders on the-dead ? 

Shall the deoeas d arise. 
And praise titee ' from their loathsome bed ' 
' With pale and hollow eyes ?' 

11 Shall they thy loving khidness tell 45 

On whom flie grave ' hatfi hold ?' 
Or they, who in perdition • dwell,' 
' Thy faithfrUness * unfold ?' 

12 In darkness can thy might? 'hand' 

* Or • wondrous acte be known ? 
Thy Justice in the 'gloomy'land 
Of'dark'obUvion? 

13 But I to thee, O Lord! do ciy, 

'Ere yet my Ufa be spent; 
And ' up to thee ' mv prayer 'doth hie 55 

Each mom, and thee prevent. 

14 Why wilt thou. Lord, my soul forsake. 

And hide thy face nrom me, 

15 That am already bruls'd, and f shake 

With terror sent from thee ? 60 

Brais'd and afflicted, and ' so low ' 

As ready to expire ; 
While I thy terrors undergo 

Astonish'id with thine hre. 

16 Thy fierce wrath over me doth flow ; 65 

Thy threat'nings cut me through : 

17 Ail day they round about me go. 

Like waves they me pursue. 

IS Lover and friend thou hast remov'd. 

And sever'd from me far ; 70 

They • fly me now,' whom I have lov'd. 
And as in <iarW\o— are. 

A Paraphrau on PSALM CXIV. 

This and the fbllowins Psalm were done by tlie 
Author at mteen years old. 

WHEN tiie blesB'd seed of Tenth's faithful so■^ 
After long toil, their liberty had won ; 
And pass^ from Pharian fields to Canaan land. 
Led ^ the strengdi of the Almighty's hand ; 
Jehovah's wonders were in Israel shown, 5 

His praise and glory was in Israel Icnown : 
That saw the troubled sea, and, shlvermg, fled. 
And sought to hide his froth-becurled head 
Low in the earth ; Jordan's clear streams recoil. 
As a famt host that hath receiv'd the foil. 
The high huge-bellied mountains skip, like rams 
Amongst tiheir ewes ; the little hills, like lambs. 
Why fled the ocean ? and why skipp'd tlie moun 

tains? 
Why tnm'd Jordan tow'rd his crystal fountains .' 

* The Hebr. bears both, 
t Heb. Ptk Concttssione. 



10 



2i8 



Shake, eaztfij and at the wncoee be agliaat 
Of Him ttat ever was, and aye' dull last ; 
That fitMj floods from xiuged rocks can crush, 
And make toft rills from to7 flint-stones gush. 



PSALM CXXXVL 

LET US, witii a gladsome mind. 
Praise the Ixnrd, for he is kind ; 

For his mercies aje endure, 

Bret fiiithAil, ever sure. 

Let us blaze his name abroad. 
For of gods he is the Ood. 
For his, Sre. 

O, let us his praises tell. 
Who doth the wrathful tjrants qnelL 
For his, Sfe. 

Who, with his miracles, flolh make 
Amazed heaven and earth to shake. 
For his, Stc. 

Who, Ifj his wisdom did cteate 
The pamted heavens so full of state. 
Fat his, ^e. 

Who did the solid earth ordain 
To rise above the watei^ plain. 
F<nr his, S^c. 

Who* by his all-commanding mlgfat. 
Did fill the new-made world wiu lisfat. 
For his, Sfc. 

And caus'd the golden-tressed sun 
All the day l<»g his course to run. 
For his. Site. 

The homed moon to shine by nig] 
Amongst her spangled sbters mn 
For his, Jfc. 



15 



& 



He with his thunder-dandng hand. 
Smote the first-born olEfSjpt land. 
For his. See. 



15 
SO 

S5 
SO 

35 
40 



And, in _. 
He brought _ 
Forhb, ^c. 



ite of Pharaoh 



, thence his land. 



The ruddy wave* he ckit In twain 4i 

Of the Erytiinean main. 
For hi^ Sre. 

The floods stood still Uhe walls of fl^aaa. 
While the Hebrew bands did pass. 90 

For his, ^c. 

But fiill soon they did devour 
The tawny king with all his power. 

For his, 4v- 65 

His chosen people he did bles^ 
In the wasteftil wilderness. 

For his, Sre. 60 

In bloodv battle he brought down 
Kings of prowess and renown. 
For his, Jfe. 

He foil'd bold 8e<m and his heat, 65 

That rul'd the Amonean coast. 
For his, 4*0. 

And lan;e-limb'd Og he did subdue. 
With alThis over-haxdy crew. 70 

For his, ^. 

And to his servant Israel, 
Hegave their land herein to dweO. 
Fat his, Sfc. 75 

He hath, widi a piteous cgre. 
Beheld us in our misery. 
Forhis,<fi-c. 80 

And freed us from the slaveqr 
Of Ae invading enemy. 
' For his, Src 

All living creatures he doth feed. 85 

And with full handsiqpplies their need. 
For his, S(e, 

Let us therefine warble fbrfh 
His mighty majes^ and worth. 90 

Forms, 4'«* 

That his mansion hatib on hi^ 
Above the reach of mortal eye* 

For his mercies aye endmr«, fS 

Ever fidthfiU, ever nuc. 



FINIS. 



i 



PARADISE LOST. 

Note— ne niiwntt bllen r<fcT It Uu Book, Oe^m l» 



BhIb, ft bbd ^pnjp nt tfftn of Adi 



4^bHkj^fl«aia HiWii him, tM. aw. au- 






"vsa^i^fT'Tt 












U.anairir nbrn, tilT^'Snh 




S i5MrJ^l»lil,li. eit'lis. I. M. 

P«a' QI Cbuoi, & ULai uvri, I. 41 L 
PcnecaElan, airiiltDil, lu oilfK ^ fta 



S^^^^siJiS--* 



| i, i , i M i>to^B-g,.a.n. 

lUJ— ,»fcllni«lAl.«». 



in> oriHiMp, hi no. (I. su. 



W-ta. '>Ull Ulb b> CbaH, M 



"Br' 



POEMS 



BT 



WILLIAM COWPER, Es<i. 



OP 



THE INNER TEMPLE. 



* fm 0m»m m 00m000*90*0*»^»*m0mm0 



Kicut aqon tieinTihim lidiria uU loiaan ahMils 
Sole Kptfcoaram, aut ndiantit imaglae loiui, 
Onudm penoUtat lata loca, jamqae wab anna 
Erlgitiir, nmmiqiM ftilt laqaearla lactl. 



So water, trembliaff in a poUth'd vaw, 
RoBccta tM beam, that idajt vpoQ Its fi»e ; 
Th« qmrtl^ Ufl^^ nnoartaia when It fUla, 
Now itilkM the roof, now flashes od tha walls. 

<# ■#»»<#*»#»»>»» 0m ■# w t 9>m*s00S0 



LONDON : 
PUBLISHED BY JONES & COMPANY, 
No. S, WARWICK SQUARE. 

1824. 



<•< 



i 



PREFACE. 



WHEN fldi Author, by appearini; in print, reqnesu 
an auclienoe of the Public, and is upon the point of 
speaking fiv himself^ ulioever presulnes to step be- 
fore him with a prefiice, and to say, ' Nay, but hfear 
fne fixat,' should ha-ve somediing vortfay of atten- 
tion to-ofRr, or he win be Justly deemed officious 
and hnpcatioent. The judicious reader has proba- 
bly, «poa other occasions, been befbr^hand with 
me in thlsmfleotlon ; and I am not rery willing it 
should now be applied to me, however I may seem 
to ekpeae myaeLF to (he danger of it. But the 
thougirt of having my own name perpetuated in 
oomwetiaii wftii flw name in the title-page is so 
pleaaiBg asid Ortteiing tothe fteUngn of my heart, 
that I am content to ziafc something fi>r the gnttt- 
cation. 

This Frefiioe is not designed to commend the 
Poems to which it is prefixed. My testimony would 
be insufficient for diose who axe not qualified to 
judge properly finr tiiemselves, and unneoessary to 
those who are. Besides, the reason^ which render 
it improper and unseemly finr a man to celebrate his 
cnm performances, or those of his nearest relatives, 
wQl have some influence in suppressing much of 
what he might otherwise wish to say in foTour of a 
fritnd, when that friend is indeed an aiter idm, 
and excites almost the same emotions of sensibili^ 
and ailbction as he fisels fbr himself. 

It .is Teiy probable these Poems may come into 
ttie hands of some persons, in wbtmi the sight of, 
the Author's name will awaken a recollection of' 
incidents and scenes, wliich through length of time 
they had almost forgotten. Thc^ will be reminded 
of oiM, who was once the companion of their chosen 
hours, and who set out with them in early llfb in 
the paths which lead to literary honours, to influ- 
ence and affluence, with equal prospects of success. 
But he was suddenly and powerfully withdrawn 
firom diose pursuits, and he left them without re- 
gret ; yet not till he had sufficient opportunity of 
OQunting the cost, and of knowing tne value of what 
be gave up. If happiness could have been found 
in classical attainments, in an elegant taste, in the 
exertions of wit, fam^, and genius* and In the e8> 
teem and converse of such persons, as in these re- 
apeots were most congenial with himself, he would 
have been happy : but he was not. He wondered 



(as fboutands in a similar situation still do) that he 
should continue dissatisfied, with all Ae means ap- 
parently condudve to satisbction witliin his reach : 
but in due time the cause of his disappointment 
was discovered to him— He had lived without God 
in the world. In a memorable hour the wisdom 
which is firom above visited his heart. Then he 
felt himself a wanderer, and then he found a guide. 
Upon tills change of views, a change of plan and 
conduct followed of COUTH. *When he saw the iwiy 
and die getjf world in its true li^t, lie left it with 
as littie reluctance as ainrisoner, when called to 
liberty, leaves his dungeon. Not that he became 
a Cynic or an Ascetic— A heart filled with love to 
God wlB assuredly breathe benevolence to men. 
But the turn of his temper inclining him to rmal 
life, he indulged it, and the providence of God 
evidently preparing his way and marking out his 
retreat, he itethed into tiie country. By these steps 
the good hand of God, tmknown to me, was pro- 
viding for me one df the principal blessings of my 
life; a friend and a counsellor, in whose company 
for almost seven years, thou^ we were seldom 
seven successive waking lionrs separated, I always 
found new pleasure : a friend who was not only a 
comfort to myself, but a blessing to the affectionate 
poor people, among whom I then lived. 

Some time after inclination had thus removed 
him from the huny and bustle of life, he was still 
more secluded by • long indisposition, and my 
p\^asuxe was succeeded by a proportionable degree 
of anxiety and concern. But a hope that the God 
whom he served would support him under his 
Affliction, and at length vouchsafe him a happy 
deliverance, never forsook me. Tlie desirable 
crisis, 1 trust, is now nearly approaching. Tha 
dawn, the presage of returning iday, is already 
arrived. He is again enabled to resume^ pen, 
and some of the first fruits of his recovery are here 
presented to the public In his principal subjects 
the same acumen which distinguished him in the 
early period of life is happily employed in illustrat. 
ing and enfbrdng the truths, of which he received 
such deep and unalterable impressions in his ma- 
turer years. His satire, if it may be called so. Is 
benevolent (like the iqierations of the skilfbl and 
humane suiipeoD, who wounds only to heal), die- 
A8 



tated bj a Joit vegazd for the'bonour of God; and 
indignant grief excited by the popfligacy of the age« 
and a tender compassion for the aouls of men. 

His &vottrite topics are least insisted on in the 
piece entided ' Table Talk ^^ which therefine, with 
some regard to the preTailing taste, and that those* 
who aregoTemed by it, may not be discouraged at 
the Teiy threshold from prooeedingfiirther, is placed 
first. In most of the laiger Poems which fidlow, 
his leading design is more explicitly Avowed and 
pursued. He aims to communicate his own per- 
ceptions of the truth, beauty, and tnA^ipnfe of the 
religion of the Bible— a zeligian, which, bowerer 
discredited by the misconduct of many, who have 
not renounced , the Christian name, proTes itself, 
when rightly understood, and cordially embraced, 
to be the grand detideraiumf which alone can re> 
lieve the mind of man from painful and nnaroid- 
able anxieties, inspire it with stable peace and solid 
hope, and frimish those motives and prospects, 
which, in di6 presebt state of things, are absolutely 
necessary to produce ajcooduct worthy of a rational 
creature, distinguisbM by a vastnos of capacity, 
which no assemblage of earthly good can satisfy, 
and by a principle and pre-intimation of lmmor> 
tality. 

At a time when hypothesis and conjecture in 
philosophy are so justly eajiloded, and little is con- 
sidered as deserving the name of knowledge, Which 
trill not stand the test of experiment, the very use 
of the tenn experimental in religious concernments 
is by too many unhappily rejected with disgust 
But we well know, that they, who affect to despise 
the inward feelings which religious persons speak 
of, and to treat them as enthusiasm and fidty, have 
inward feelings of thefar own, which, though they 
would, they cannot suppress. We have been too 
long in the secret oursdves, to account the proud, 
the ambitious, or the voluptuous, happy. We must 
lose the remembrance of what we once were, btibn 



we can believe 0ut a man is satisfied with himseli; 
merely because he oideavonrs to appear so. A 
nnileupanthefitceisoAenbuta mask worn ocea> 
sionally, and in company, to prevent, if possible, a 
suspicion of what at the same time i&jtassing in the 
heart. We know that there are people who seldom 
smile when they are alone, who therefore are glad 
to hide themselves fn a throng from the violence at 
theb: own reflections, and who, while by their looks 
and their language thej wish to persuade us they 
axe happy, would be glad to diaqge (heir conditions 
with a dog. But in defiance of all their efforts, 
they continue to think, forebode, and tremble. 
This we know, fiv it has been our own state, and 
therefore we know how to commiserate it in others. 
—From this state the Bible relieved us: when we 
were led to read it with attention, vre found our- 
tdvee described. We learned the causes of our 
inquietude— we were directed to a method c£ relief, 
—we tried, and we were not disappointed. 

Deu* Mbit Ac« uHa fecit. 

We are now certain, that the Gospel of Christ is 
tlie power of God unto salvation to every me .that 
beUeveth. It has reconciled us to God, and to our 
selves, to our duty, and our situatioo. It Is the 
bahn and cordial of the present life, anda sovoeign 
antidote against the fear of death. 

Bed haeUnm Kck. Some smallor pieces upon 
less fanportant subjects close the volume. Not one 
of them, I believe, was written with a view to 
publicatJon, but 1 was unwilling they should be 
omitted. 

JOHN NBWTON. 

<»arlu Sfuare, Hoaebm, 
FAruary 18, 1782. 



CONTENTS. 



TaUe Talk . 
Progvett oft £nmr 
Truth . 
Expostnladgn 
Hope . . 
Charity . 
ConTenatlon 
Retkement . 



The Task, in Bix Books t 



Book I. The SoGi .... 

II. The Time-piece ' 

m— III. The Garden 

_- IV. The Winter Evening 

V. The Winter Morning Walk 

VI. The Whiter Walk at Noon 



Pugt 
1 
6 
10 
14 
13 
24 
28 
34 



41 
46 
51 
57 
62 
«8 

75 



82 
83 
ib. 
ib. 



ib. 

84 
ib. 



Tixodniom-; or a Review of Schools 

Yearly Dtstiess, or Tithing Time at Stock:, in 

Eases 

Sonnet addressed to'^enry Cowper . 
Lines addressed to Dr. Darvin . • 
On Mrs. Montagu's Feather Hangings 
Venes supposed to be written by Alexander 

Sdkirk, during his abode in |the Island of 

Juan Fernandez .... 
On the promotion of Edward Thurlow, Esq. to 

the ChanoelloiBhip of Enj^nd 

Ode to Peace 

Human frailty *. 

The Modem Patriot . . . . ib. 

On observing some names of little Note, reo(nd> 

ed in the Biographia Britannica . 85 

Report of an adjudged Case not to be frond hi 

any of the Books ib> 

On die boming <tf Lord Mansfield's library ib. 

Onthebame **• 

The Love tfthe World reproved . ib. 

Od the death of Lad;r Throcknwrton's Bui 

finch • 

TheRose 

The Doves 



86 
ib. 
ib. 



AFahle 
ACenaparben 



87 
lb. 



Another addressed to a Young Lady 87 

The Poef s New-year's-Gitt ... lb. 

Ode to Apollo ...... ib. 

Pahdng Tune anticipated.— A FaUe . 88 

The D(« and Water LUy ... ib. 

The Poet, the Oyster, and the SensitlTe Plant ib. 

The Shrubbery gg 

The Winter Nosegay ib. 

Mutual Forbearance necessary to the Happi- 
ness of the Married State . . . ib. 
The Negro's Complaint .... 90 
Pity for Poor Africans .... ib. 
The Morning Dream .'.... ib. 
The Nightingale and Olow-worm . . 91 
On a Goldfinch starved to Death in his Cage ib. 
The Phie-apple and the Bee ... |b. 

Horace, Book II. Ode X ib. 

Reflection on the foregoing Ode ... 92 

The Lily and the Rose . •. , . ib. 

IdemXAtineReddiUun .... ib. 

The Poplar Field ib. 

Idem LatJne Redditum .... ib. 

Votom . ib, 

TRANSLATIONS FROM VINCENT 
BOURNE: 

Cidndda 99 

The Glow-worm .... lb. 

Comicula lb. 

TheJackdaw ib. 

Ad Grillum.— Anacreonticum . • ib. 

TheCrieket • . . . . 94 

Shnileagit in Simile .... ib. 

The Parrot . . . . . ib 

An Epistle to an afflicted Protestant Lady in 

France ib. 

.1 Tale.— Founded on &ct . . . • 95 

The History of John Gilpin . ... il». 

To the Rev. William Cawthome Unwin . 97 
Answer to Stanzas addressed to Lady Hcsketib, 
by Miss Catharine Fanshawe, in returning a 

Poem of Mr. Cowpo's, lent to her, oo con- *- 
dltion she should neither show it, nor take a 

Copy • ib. 

3 



7i 



COHTBHTSi 



p<v« 



On the loe Islands, seen floating in the Ger- 
man Ocean, 1799 

On finding the Heel of a Shoe 

Stanzas on the late indecent liberties taken 
with the remains of the Greet Milton . 

The Cottager and his Landloxd . 

TheGolubriad 

An EpisOe to Joseph Hill, Esq. 

To Robert Lloyd, Esq 

To the Rer. Mr. Newton .... 

Translation of Prior's Cfaloe and EnpheUa 

A Tale* « 

The Needless Alaxm.-A Tale 

Catharins 

The Mondlxer e<nre«ted.-^ Tale 

Heroism 

The Faithfdl Bird 

Boadicea.— j^n Ode 

Sunset and Sunrise' 

On the Receipt of my Mother's Pictoze . 



97 
lb. 

98 
ib. 
ib. 
ib. 



99 

ib. 

100 

ib. 

ib. 

101 

lOS 

ib 

103 

ib. 

Ib. 

ib. 

Friendship ....... 104 

The Four Ages ...... 105 

On a Mischievons Bull, which the Owner of 

him sold at tlie Author's instance 106 

To the Spanish Admiral, Count Gravina, on 
Us translating the Anthw's Song on. a Rose 
>ato Italian Verse ih. 



Pagt 
OnMr.CfaestarofChichely ... 106 
From a Letter to the Rer. Mr. Newtan ib. 

Annus MemoraUlis, 1789 fib. 

Inscription fbr the Tomb of Mr. Hamilton 107 
Stanzas suttMned to the Teariy Bill of Mor- 

taUty of the Parish of All-Saints, Nor. 

thampton, anno domini, 1787. . ib. 

On a Similar Occasion, 1788. ... 'ib. 
On a SimUar Occasion, 1789. . 108 

On a Similar Occasion, 1790. . . . fb. 
On a Similar Occasion, 179S. . . . fb. 
On a Similar Occasion, 1793. ... 109 
On the Queen's Visit to London ib< 

The Enchantment DisBOlTod . . . ib. 

Submission 110 

The Judgment of the Poets, 1791. . . Ib. 

TheSalad-ByVirgU ib. 

Hymn .£» the Use of the Sunday Sduxd at 

Olney ... s ... Ill 

Sonnet— To Charles Diodatt . . . ib. 
To William Hayley, Esq. 1793. . ' . US 

To William Wilberfitroe, Esq. 179S. . ib. 

OnanIn£mt ib. 

Epitaph on a Haie, . , . \ . ib. 
Epitaphlum Alteram • . ' ib. 

Acoount of the Author's treatment of 

Hates 113 



COWPER'S POEMS. 



TABLE TALK. 



TSiTinhifllilPtiM MiMn itiiiiilii 

T^JH In^M^ U«llJ|MBt Inrinl. 






Wuh riid, IK itHoli wdoin^rii- 



To ^TlH^Tlaiii Mptud 
WLdi Btod nptdltT tnJ mn 






Bi«8»JwJi—ttmSBr^bMMt 



issr 



Ssssswsi 



PROGRESS OF ERROR. 






Eute u OhTIiUIB, M •> lU to BI. 










iU'n^^''rii''1E^i'fciJ' "° 



ill, (Cu n5«^ mUSSTiU dua, 



lllHiilM l j yllil* ill>lllli ■nil ■mil 
El fwpnlks UAlW^iiU] • lOm 
AIJmMi PIMItMitiliniJrtailn. 

■nlMMHbHliiI, imlrUiia. inut Abta 
■ ■l llS< l»»]ulllM»hftMll»''»bnil«tt»»J 

SBMBtMirim tnlni i«fc -A— d»u>l J 
jiwliiidliii b gfiy « MMCMg ihow^- 






ooDTFaa.** 1 






EXPOSTULATION. 



na HOfiivM ■* bfl^T Tina fnaaaa 
Aad »■ mo (nr MM tarSiHiI Mm. 

j W M*BiiwJilfMikpryjfta«irtihlb^ynii^ 





ril|>l II I ■ ■■■■ llfc I. —ilili »MiM«B 







«« M 4U< Itlka S£%t cf nx^ cUhM 
Shod! IPttaiMIMii lb; bxni. dHn H Oaca} 
WtMajaMMIIipt jt mi ft™ li (M 

jma ««;^ llmiifc l wj^<W>»— , WilMlhtiit. 




cowofplBiHjoraiepliilfn— ft, ^,^ 



oowmais von 










1I1|U lUnal ImS^lt^ >M m'mliii. 



tomntjarOtalfiit 

frllliitflMiiirlliii f 1 I lilt StBil. 



s?s;'i«^. 



CONVERSATION. 




r«Bliw»t, bat ■ft«a<^al*7W ^■^ 






TlMllwijll^HlllTll yim^MUl 

nrmfliM iMiin ■ JS^jpMiia^Mii. 

MMaimlH uiu pill.VjlirlmJ^— IMll 
KbitaalAd, Hdiu nnni ^ lip, 
F ffli tTii iiMiil iiii iMijiiii K bmfa pip t 

T> Ik Hib oUkt. (Mb| »» budi. 

n mr «Oiiliu la dia mtU^ «(«iih 
Cuij^^^^Aui HlH (B swn iduai 

Tmniijiiiiiiiij If BiiM HHiii ihi li in* 
nw HodtfQ ft* diunlaflsrKt, 
lUi^ntBUt li mud, udHiffi'ttniigk bn. 

lAt flii*ia dun BHa ■ dlol-plBia t 

Yk mlvB, •><■ mn'Hi, ninrd laAlj, Aov 



rHDv naj^ HI awmcuuHC puai i 
MpWilt lHtqt«aU or vetord^i 



Sbm^b Dd Om pclTlliKt of tbaughi. 



^*i«M^^BSJ™™ 




Tl Jlllll Ikl lllillll lllllll III Hull 1 1 

Wdt-rtmw i»ii I iTaniipnatiim, 







RETIREMENT. 











.—^SS.^ 




THE TASK, 



IN 



SIX BOOKS. 



OOW»SII.>8 POBWS. 




•nt MlJIrKybJh' uilliiH tfSmt I, 
T>i IHiliiil "'ii' -iBIll lIltlMfi rfl« ihilil. 

ri i»iiiii . .« j i!!Iff!SgrfjgM. 

Ab« roptar. Oiu iSai iliv Ikw kU 4 

j ^Ma^iiii i iiripMiM i»i||ii— »™i 

■obi iki^Jwa, »f?1itii|i I iF I vn. 



nStSSSSit.iSSS!' 



A pidlin HBb llHt k*Wt dM bMM&PWn. 

HHllliiiiAn.uddHifMUBfali; tlwhflHt 
^gmtm ^mXSii inhttiimm 

■pMuot Uh (M wmcli, >'iHl 
4^ >lliia aMw, TUk tair pron plan. 

TrrwiiiiiiiSiiiiiiniii I 11 iiiiiii 

Tim TtwM|K aot tnoaqn Oimf No-Ihi 
Tl* ilnWl iSiS'idDllul^ Oul tn^a 
P liBllDB nd HmonL tbaJtu idAu 
lid dub tanHUa loldli, lU faUd. 






^ 



n, J^^^iub^^^SS.% n. 
rimliS'i?*'^ rffju ?iIi*u^l!^ 



W<n a aiCoTIiil kB«tar k44iiLi (on 

Aid Gwdi Ou in Ur Uhh, bu ind!!l 




THE TASK. 



THE TIME-PIECE. 






JAlfniliiur to' tbt (bg. Ihlt onwrf both Eiuh« 
AilAdujliii [be *£dJc fkiliupcr 1^ 17U. 



liifilliiimrfpilliitiiiiiiilil 11 In III 1 1 
f^ bb om plHinni ud htt puna't pildi I 



■■■aanrftMMiJ;^ 



^uliiii aridl Out Oia lock kalMi 

SJ^uSucfinUIi sua »-Uk* vbai P 



tKtm 










Aid ^^S'lSiSn kb'^ft SnwW w 



And, mdbw m1» olmU tiat In c~*mp, 
Wl£ ~rn««Mia dritui hi! on. 
TIM iSiw It yimunwr. V*lmn> 



50 



May fted caeMUB di« on 01 aflbrd, 

1% hackiMT'd home unlackn'd ; who, in hute 

AUehtinf , turn* the key in her own door, 

AnoTat ute watcfamas's lantern borrowing light. 

Finds a cold bed her only comfort left. 

Wives beggar hnsbancu, husbands starre their 

On fiyrtune's Telvet altar offering up [wires, 

Tbnlrlast poor pittance— Fortune, most teTere 

Of goddeMes jret known, and costlier fiur 

Than all that held their routs in Juno's heaven. 

So fare we in this prison-house, the world ; 

And 'tis a fearful spectacle to see 

bo inany maniacs oanciag in their chains. 

Ther gaze upon the links that hold them fast* 

With eves oi anguish, execrate their lot. 

Then shake them in despair, and dance again 1 

Now basket up the family of plagues. 
That was^e our vitals; peculation, sale 
Of honour, perjury, corruption, frauds 
By forgery, Dv subterfuge of law. 
By tri»8 and lies as numerous and as keen 
As the necessities their authors feel : 
Then cast them, closely bundled, every brat 
At the right door. Profusion is the sire. 
Profiosian unrestrained, with all that's base 
In character, has Jitter'd all the land^ 
And bred, within the meraoiy of no few, 
A priesthood) such as Baal's was of old, 
A people, such as never was till now. / 
It Is a nungry vice : it eats up all 
That gives society its beauty, strength. 
Convenience, and securi^, and use : 
Hakes men mere vermin, worthv to be trapp'd 
And gibbeted, as fast as catchpole claws 
Can seize the slippery prey: unties the knot 
Of uhlon, and converts the sacred band 
That holds mankind together^ to a scoui^e. 
Profusion, deluging a state with lusts 
Of grossest nature, and of worst effects. 
Prepares it for its ruin: hardens, blinds, 
Ana vrarps, the consciences of public men, 
Till Aey can laugh at virtue ; mock the fools 
That trust them ; and in th' end disclose a fine. 
That would have shock'd credulity herself, 
Unmask'd, vouchsafing this their sole excuse- 
Since all, alike are selnsh, why not they ? 
This does profiision, and th' accursed cause 
Of such deep mischief has itself a cause. 

In colleges and halU, in ancient days, 
When learning, virtue, piety, and truth, 
Were precious, and inculcated with care. 
There dwelt a sage call'd Discipline. His head. 
Not yet by time completely silver'd o'er. 
Bespoke him past the bounds of freakish youth. 
But strong for service still, and unimpair'd. 
niseye was meek and gentle, and a smile 
Play'd on his lips ; and in his speech was heard 
Paternal sweetness, dignity, and love. 
The occupation dearest to his heart 
Was to encourage goodness. He would stroke 
The head of modest and ingenuous worth, 
That blush'd at its own praise ; and press the youth 
Close to his side that plerfted him. Learning grew. 
Beneath his care, a thriving, vigorous plant ; 
The mind was well in£arm'a, the jNusions tield 
Subordinate, and diligence was choice. 
If e'er it chanced, as sometimes chance it must. 
That one among so many overleap'd 
The lunits of control, his gentle eye 
Grew stem, and darted'a severe rebuke : 
His frown was fall of terror, and his voice 
8hook the delinquent with such fits of awe. 
As left him not, till penitence had won 
Iiost fiivour back agaiiK and closed the breach. 
But IMscipline, a faithful servant long. 
Declined at length into the vale of vears : 
A palqr struck his arm ; his sparkhne eye [strung. 
Was quenched in rheums of age; bis voice, un- 
Orew tremulous, and drew derison more 
Than Overence in perverse, rebellious youth. 
So c(dl^^ and halls neglected much 
Their good old friend ; and Discipline at length, 
O'eriook'd and unemployd, fell sick and dieiL 
Then study languished, emulation slept. 
And virtue fled. The schools became a scene 
Of solemn farce, where Ignoranc^ in stilts. 
His cap well lined with logic not his own. 
With parrot tongue perfbrm'd the scholar's part. 
Proceeding soon a graduated dunce. 
Then ooinpromise Had place, and scrutiny 
Became s^ne-blind ; precedence went in truc^ 
And he was competmt vhoee porse was so. 



ZTatk, 

A dissoltttton of all bonds Hmed; 

The curbs invented for the mulish mouth 

Of headstrong youth were broken ; bars and botts 

Grew rusty by disuse } and massy gates 

Forgot their office, ojienlng with a touch ; 

Till gowns at length are found mere masquerade. 

The tassel'd cap and the spruce band a jest, 

A mockery of the worldJ What need of these 

For gamesters; Jockeys, brothelen impure. 

Spendthrifts and booted sportsmen, oftener seen 

With belted waist and pomters at their heels. 

Than in the bounds of duty ? What was leam'd. 

If aught was leam'd in childhood, is fingot; 

And such expense, as pinches parents blue. 

And mortifies the liberal hand of love. 

Is squander*d in pursuit of idle sports 

And vicious pleasures ; buys the boy a name. 

That siu a stigma on his feUier's hoase. 

And cleaves through life inseparably close 

To him that wears it. What can after-gamea 

Of riper Joys, and commerce with the world. 

The lewd, vain world, that must receive him soon. 

Add to such erudition, thus acquired, 

Where science and where virtue are profecs'd ? 

They may confirm his habits, rivet fwt 

His folly, but to spoil him is a task. 

That bids defiance to th' united powen 

Of fashion, dissipation, taverns, stews. 

Now blame we most the nurslings or the norse ? 

The children crook'd, and twisted, anddefbrm'df 

Through want of care ; or her, whose winking eye 

And slumbering oscitancy mars the brood ? 

The nurse no doubt." Regardless of her chaage^ 

She Jieeds herself correction; needs to learn. 

That it is dangerous sporting with the irorlo. 

With things so sacred as a nation's tmtt. 

The nurture of her youth, her dearest pledge. 

All are not such. I had a brother one»— 
Peace to the memory of a man of worth, 
A man of letters, and of manners too I 
Of manners sweet as virtue always wean. 
When gay good-nature dresses her in sinilea. 
He graced a coU^,* in which order yet 
Was sacred ; ana was honour'd, loved, and wept. 
By more than one, themselves Cjonspicuons tbucb 
Some minds are temper'd happily, and miz'd 
With such ingrediente of good sense, and taste 
Of what is excellent in man, they thirst 
With such a zeal to be what they approve, 
That no restr^nts can circumscl^be them more 
Than they themselves bv choice, for wisdom's i 
Nor can example hurt uiem : what they see 
Of vice in others. Iiut enhancing more 
The charms of virtue in their just esteem. 
If such escape ccmtagion, and emerge 
Pure from so foul a pool to shine abroad. 
And give the world their talents,and themselves. 
Small thanks to those whose negligence or sloth 
Exposed their inexperience to the snare, 
And left them to an undirected choice. 

See then the quiver broken and decay'd. 
In which are kept our arrows ! Rusting there 
In wild disorder, and unfit fbr use. 
What wonder if, discharged into the world. 
They shame their shooters with a random -fligfat. 
Their points obtuse, and feathers drunk with win* I 
Well may the church wage unsuccessfiil war 
With such artillery arm'd. Vice parries wide 
Th' undreaded voUey with a sword of straw. 
And stands an impudent and fearless mark. 

Have we not track'd the felon home, and fimnd 
His birth-place and his dam ? The country mounu^ 
Afoums because every plague that can txinst 
Society, and that saps and worms the base 
Of th' edifice, that policy has raised. 
Swarms in all quarters : meets the eje, the ear. 
And sufibcates the breath at every turn. 
Profusion breeds them ; and the cause itself 
Of that calamitous mischief has been flaund ; 
Found too where most offensive, in the skirts 
Of the robed pedagogue! Else let th' arraini'd 
Stand up unconscious, and refute the cha^. 
So when the Jewish leader stretuh'd his arm. 
And waved his rod divine, a race obscene, 
Spawn'd in the muddy beds of Nile, came forth, 
FollutiQg Egypt : gardens, fields, and plains, 
Were cover'd with the pest ; the streete were filled | 
The croaking nuisance lurk'd in every nook ; 
Nor palaces, nor even chambers 'scaped ; 
And the land stank— so numerous was the fry. 

*Bene't C<dl. Cambridjp. 



THE TASK, 



THE GARDEN. 









i .-c:-K™'«'» - 






■t nl okanni (An (iSu 



tIuShMH n< Saw tt«V- IUt mi. 

Snid unmnBgaMi. Mil* » an pour burnt 



S? MBrS 5^KSii!SSfi'.^'*' 

Ba la^u'iUiK " ■ nn 

H» mvir MUrinU ajnlAa and inln 




T h i^>* lm pM itM M lM i l <W'iffiig|*fa 
grhlRDlH HlaBi Ikiiiilv Wtnf BdiHil 






tdl frrtU tlM bOt«hL AlHllL^ dA 






Jjjy-J-i 



frill ■ II III i JTiTl HI 111! Ill 

Crh, nf iKriilMl, lid Ifea •UhUW 




THE TASK. 



THE WINTER EVENING. 






aowMib*s 1 



a^jaaffSKaxas 



ssasnisss. 



THE TASK. 

BOOK V. 
THE WINTER MORNING WALK. 



•U>, adi^^Z^p„iIuu7i^^||^(^>Mh»uaiiMilAwJ^S%i^U^ 



i 






gr liS5'iM7™'?"fcM SSl °" 






^ U ^U an ul^ Ai^ 










TBS w o re w fc B 



jlilTfciii lim Ml If illiilitiiiirl 111. 



?}S^ 



-• Ma TnMlniMF KHm (ni 



DhS In Ml IDlt cnliWQ A> MAP 
Di^H 19 In* tetaSiM nl tiw PH< 

whB^|^■■l■■■■■tfC■llh•lo^■^4 wiiLji^ 
Wka Imt K*inr &jta > DUIian FHnid 

•nm oMiiai. f ■'.■'' ■.■■«■ *^ Mmd ? 

AjJiiaE «lli»sir ;> 11 II III! I nu I 
•-■-^^^^— '-■•doO.llHiMliiiit 














^S!a,K^ 



"ft* "T ■h->f*- J.**** «■ ■■■■■■■ 1 ■— , 




- -. -^lM»w fiy ttM »d3igi 1iflL ii , fia, 



^^S^'S^^l 




BiiMiiI|Im!iIii'|SHi nn* 

Aniline iritiM Hi 111 liiiainijii 




THE TASK. 



THE WINTER WALK AT NOON. 








til iiii^i a iiBi iji a. jaiai Bodnilp. 
CfSSmiSuiii mSmSnnti ™ 



6SSK|i a Mry^g au;ii j ^gkT io»* 

Tlwt «*Abi IB pH^hT houDH dad, 
AidSnkniib)Bn<nbtlk»^K* uu. 




TTWiTlJliiTi mllit lMliil 





H^w> w ■ lindB. Mil « SEli 
TliilliiliMlnlllu iiilimiMM 



Mr«tfW,iliir»inri»L " 






OudBi W God, ■•• nmbla tta chu— 

I 

i 
I 

I 



H vlUpnauihiB,— WtbHu u bla ^ 






. ITAKX AT MOMT. 






A B«w to iHni, Pnt Swn. UhiA iCdw I 
[■imi<iLililiiipwd?di<M. [wml 



a™j™^-¥'^;' Who. £i ™'5m bom 

TOBlfttPiwl hSf bogk, tnm whom Tr 4vqe» 

AH Jjinh :-rtM HAiB* imtHm ft t» were ; 
And *itk am^ bmndiM die 
^■d ■■■■«■ oT a' dAbi:^ nAuhei a deed 
Lh bMin diip ikBiMriHl oolni mixe 
TtmiAleiamtaaii w nungdnls'. 
H> In Ow cfiua |<<U Elt Hum, 
WbHi nSttB Ouilii, >bo mcuu Co be 
IM (id tern tniSm, iM Uw newi ••■ [tnti 
Tta dni^ cliik, HI 1^ OH uuuuiiie, 
SbPI ID te pqte udjjS^^KInK Ueoi^ !— 
The IM NMInib^ itdle hi lijed 
Sbijffiw fif^r/M^tte^jSd ihdl j|> 




^SnAl Ok dlnital«r%ii Ihe mt 
Tbpe W*do ^— Mr Aebwih of prtlae, 

llu Mk HW Ub Inle DitHkllciund ; 
^l,eiiilinmrtai niliwliler theme, 
l^Ti IHtfid v* flOHDU dTfuAKTik dovn 
Abaot lier LoM^ HBk^ wllh oecure 



Whoae tin S^V^td UH*pii^Mifti|aip, 
Wi EhDiuud yein rfSmirtafewefilii*^ 



sffiSC 



ProLdttou In hli chHloc pi<ed with Ioa : 
Ami irhai hli lUnni haHkuteil uid dehcnl 

ThDu^ pDDf m aiirbj rrwi [hem. llobu •■ Ijut 



ThAi ml to' «tnipf It, trdiHoi uhe dena 
The Iibou. n. luiE more uduoui 111/ 
ecmei nrvoBbv CiUe, ud 101 En*,— 
»c«n of ■lcc<IlntHUt^l UlB f ililch >h> an IH- 



neiDrei vorJ^ nun, iniTftd luShoil 
ThelnnircIlieinnhucUiedli. ^UHba 



I prttea£ « rflhe^Sl'ti^t^fbelgKrtinSe 



. VAKX AT VOI 



TIROCINIUM; 



OK, 



A REVIEW OF SCHOOLS. 



. 0'f'i^^00'^0'^t»f0^0m04m^mm 



Plato. 
JHog. Latrt. 



TO THE 



REV. WILLIAM CAWTHORNE UNWIN, 



RECTOR OP STOCK, IN ESSEX, 



THE TTTOR OF HIS TWO SONS 



THE FOLLOWING 



Porm^ 



RECOMMENDING PRIVATE TUITION, 



IN PBKFXRKNCS TO 



AN EDUCATION AT SCHOOL, 



IS INSCRIBED 



BY HIS AFFECTIONATE FRIEND 



WILLIAM COWPER. 

Olneff, Nov. €. 17B4. 



TIROCINIUM; 



A REVIEW OF SCHOOLS. 



USA 







inilEbi^allii 

niDih bra oniiN^HnSiSlrfinon ^••<*'h 




TLMVxmw or sohooks. 





A pJu TifmM i ulMi* lui»liiiii»I tMI 
AnfBi'JDim ' MJigl j-» jMmpSTfaiit. 

l»B{tjllf Jlft« "*»'"■ IMIJ 'I. 




imiitmiianmirt rf» ni ■ nal. 



aO\7*KIk'S POl 






TU jiAU ud Ilia BiiuiEilm (I™ 




NohOK, md iM Unli taSicivifa 
Otl^im nd LtuM. diK. udtiiU Dttxa I 

01 B^lSiWK lU ^^ id •m'duTl— • ; 

■w^gMMdt buMnbi nni la irai 



Nwtital UivHt iriAiiHunBKi, d^^'d 

BfliiilMiiTt—arwmiaJwaMiL 

ToiM^EiiIttMarmlaTaj. 

AjohUMMj-lfiitlitttiiipplIri ' 
WKsn^SlIun ilwnill Iili ildi. 



iidnwdlh«m^fffhHf*»lh«wraifftMi; 



Ks 






:«?= 






{WhoK Iwli •ill'u^, <nx uldiSu'uiiiDi 

ma Ml wm dUa IkT Bmiwl, « oSSni I 

rniniliaiiln— iilnlliii airiHa. 

ran Owl, Inula iTllMinlMlaiula. 

gmMidi DfaU ifw •MialhililBS^ 
HOB a ii«M pfnvKl^ bUhd ; 







YEABLY DISTRESS, 



COKE. iwida.^.li.'aQohH, 
1> ■*'«■■ h *aiild:b« Vfor^ 






WHh nuluSi^ i^ ^pal< 



' olSrtiiTwIiSi>iJ3i^ *" ""■ 



TlHTi UUe tiIU^^3 ng wU I 



nitcfptei.Ui4tt 



TwDttU oMhln, rSrv hj 



SONNBT 

ADDRBSaBD TO IISHRV COWFEB, ESQ. 
£Seil.lnltaIl»u.« 



LHenXTC >bai Ihou mfiU o( Biadudi IMO, 






fiBi'MLi-iiij.ff^yHSIj; 



£ffliMia]HvT nlmla ia the Jtiud of J 

1 uu WlJ ^th« b>l ud the bTuH. 



^ OrUrndtiklp'l plQVt Ufl? 



una. MONTAGU'S 



84 



COVTPVSL'B VOBM8. 



Societj, friendship and love, 

DivinelT bestowed upon man, 
Oh, had I the winn of a dove. 

How soon woDid I taste you again ! 
Mr soiTowt I then might assuage 

In the ways of religion and trutti, 
Might lealrn from the wisdom of age. 

And be cbeer'd bj the aallica of yout'i. 

Religion! what treasoxe tmtold 

ReSldes in that heavenlj woxd! 
More precious than silrer and gold, 

Or all that this earth can affbrd. 
But Uie sound of the church-going bell 

These valleys and rocks never heard. 
Never sigh'd at the sound of a knell. 

Or smiled when a sabbath appear'd. 

Ye winds, that have made me your spor 

Convey to this desolate shore 
Some cordiaL endearing report 

Of a land, 1 shall visit no more. 
Mv friends, do they now and then send 

A wish or a thought after me ? 
O tell me I yet have a friend, 

Thougli a friend I am never to see. 

How fleet is a glance of the mind f 

Compared with ^e speed of its flight. 
The tempest itself lags behind. 

And the cwift-wlnged arrows of light 
When I think of my own native land. 

In a moment I seem to be there; 
But alas ! recollection at hand 

Soon hnniet me back to de^air. 

But the sea-firwl is gone to her nest. 

The beast is laid down in his lair; 
Even lunre Is a season of rest. 

And I to my cabin repair. 
There's mercy in every place, 

And mercy, encouraging thought ! 
Gives evdi amiction a grace, 

Ai^d reconciles man to his lot. 



ON THE PROMOTION 



OP 



EDWARD THURLOW, ESQ. 
To the Chaneell<Hnhip of England. 

ROUND Thurlow's head in early youth. 

And in his sportive davs. 
Fair science pour'd the light of truth. 

And genius shed his rays. 

See ! with united wonder, cried 

Th' experienced and the sage, 
Ambition in a boy supplied 

With all the skfll of age ! 

Discernment, eloquence, and grace. 

Proclaim him bom to sway 
The balance in the highest place. 

And bear the palm away. 

The praise bettow'd was just and wise ; 

He sprang impetuous forth. 
Secure of conqaest, where the prize 

Attends superior worth. 

So the best courser, on the plain. 

Ere yet he starts, is known. 
And does but at the goal obtain 

What all had deem'd his own. 



ODE TO PEACE. 

COME, peace of mind, deligfatftil guest .' 
Return, and make thy downy nest 
Once more in this sad heart : 



Nor riches I nor power jmrsup, 
Nor hold forbidden Joys in view ; . 

We therefore need not paat. 

Where wilt thou dwelL if not with me. 
From avariotf and ambition free. 

And pleasure's fatal wiles ? 
For whom, alas ! dost thou prepare 
The sweets that I was wont to share. 

The banquet of thy smiles ? 

The neat, the gay, shall they partake 
The heaven that thou alone canst make ? 

And wilt thou quit the stream 
That murmurs through the dewy mead. 
The grove and the sequestered aiUKle, 

To be a guest with tiiem ? 

For thee I panted, thee 1 vrlwd. 

For thee I gladly sacrificed 
Whate'er I loved beibre • 

And shall I see Aee start awn. 

And helpless, hopeless, hear the say- 
Farewell! we meet no more ? 



HUMAN FRAILTY. 



WEAK and iireaolnte is man ; 

The purpose of to-day, 
Wo%en with pains into his plan. 

To-morrow rends away. 

The bow well bent, and- smart the spring. 

Vice seems already slain ; 
But passion rudely snaps the string. 

And it revives again. 

Some fbe to his upright intent 

Finds out his weaker part ; 
Virtue engages his assent. 

But pleasure wins his heart. 

'Tis here the folly of the wise 

Through all his art we view ; 
And, while his tongue the charge denies. 

His consdenoe owns it true. 

Bound on a voyage of awful length. 

And dangers little known, 
A stranger to superior strength, 

Man vainly trusts his own. 

But oan alone can ne'er prevail 

To reach the distant coast ; 
The breath of heaven must swell the sail 

Or all the toil is loat. 



THE MODERN PATRIOT. 

REBELLION is mv theme all day ; 

I only wish twould come 
(As who knows but perhaps it may ?) 

A little nearer home. 

Yon xoaring boys, who rave and fight 

On t'other side th' Atlantic. 
I always held them in the right. 

But most so when most ftwitic. 

When awless mobs Insult the court. 
That man shall be ny4oast, 

If breaking windows be tbm span. 
Who bravely breaks the meat. 

But 01 for him my £uiey calls 
The choicest flowers she bears. 

Who oonstitationaUy pulls 
Your house aboat your ears. 

Sucn avil oralis are my ddight, 
Thmigh some folks can't endure theut, 

>Vho say tiie mob ore mad outri^t, 
Andtnat a n^ must core then. 



NAMES OF Lirri^ NOTE 






LORD MANSFIELD'S LIBRARY, 






|1:S^^!^' 



,bc ^'^l DSdniliMI] 
[hH^fl'd to tflGlqH 10 U, IvM Ukt ft HddlB. 



"diI^SuUii 1^ bduir'i!^ B: 



, dqUidil » ciuiiUell(lil-^mi^iSS' In Ii)UDib!!nIiMBil,l 



86 



8 VOBMS. 



While otlim at lliat doctxine nil, 
And irtooriy pMfar dM tail. 
Thni, vvi m l(iir¥» fined firDm enrj dog, 
Mahometam eat np tiw hog. 

Too IsDgb— tto well— Th« tale applied, 
Maj make wa laMli on t'cxher side. 
Renoniioe the world— the preacher cxfes. 
We do— a multitude replies. 
WUle one aa fnnocent repo^ 
A aing and firiendlj game at carda; 
And one, whatever you may say. 
Can see no evil in a play ; 
Some lore a ooacert, or a race ; 
And odien shooting and tlie chaae. 
RcTiled and lowed, renounced, and fidloWd, 
Thus, bit by bit, the world, is swallow'd ; 
Each thinks his neighbour makes too free, 
Yet likeaa slice as well as he : 
With sophistry dieir sanoe dicy sweeten, 
Till quite firam tail to snout 'tis < 



ON THE DEATH 



OF 
MRS. (now LADY) THROCKMORTON'S 

BULFINCH. 

YE nymphs! if e'er your eyes were red 
With tears o'er hapless &TODrites shed, 

O share Maria's srief ! 
Her &Tonilte, erwen in his cage, 
(What will not hunger's cruel rage ?) 

• ■ I'd by a thie£ 



' Vhere Rhenus strays Us vines among, 
The egg was laid firom which he sprung, 

And, though by nature mute. 
Or only with a i^istle bless'd. 
Well-taught he all the sounds eqjnreis'd 

Offlageletorflute. 

The honours of his ebon poll 

Were bri^ter than the sleekest mole. 

His bosom of the hue 
WIdi which Aurora decks the sUes, 
When piping winds shall soon arise. 

To sweep away the dew. 

Above, below, in all the house. 
Dire foe alike of Urd and mouse. 

No cat liad teave to dwell ; 
And BnUy's cage supported stood 
On props of smo6thest shaven wood, 

large-built, and latticed well. 



Well-Uttioed— but the grate. 

Not rou^ with wire ofsteel or braai. 

For Bully's plumage' sake. 
But smooth with wands crom Ouse's side, 
WiA which, when neatly peel'd and diiei* 

The swains their baMcets make. 

NWbt veU'd the pole : all seem'd secure : 
W&en led by instinct sharp and sure. 

Subsistence to provide, 
A beast forth sallied on the scout, 
Long-back'd, long -tail'd, with whiskar'd tnont. 

And badger-ooiour'd hide. 

He, entering at the study door. 
Its ample area 'gan enlore ; 

And something in the wind 
Conieetnred, sniffing round and round. 
Better than all the books he found. 

Food chiefly for the mind. 

Just dien, by advene fate Inqmss'd, 

A dream dlMurb'd poor Bully's rest : 

ladc^ * .... 

A rat,ftst( 



For. aided bodiliy cv and ( 

Kl^t to his mask <h« monster went— 
Ah.mus*! forbear to speak 

Minuu the bearors tlutt ensued ; 

His teeth were strong, fhe cage was wood- 
He left poor Bully's bedk. 

O had he made that too his prey ; 
That beak, whence iisaed many a lay 

Of such mellifluous tone, 
Ml^t have repaid him well, I wote. 
For silencing so sweet a tliroat. 

Fast stock within his own. 

Maria weeps— the Muses mourn — 
So when, by Bacchanalians torn. 

On Thracian Hebrus' side 
The tree-enchanter Orpheus fell. 
His head alone remain'd to tell 

The cmel death he died. 



THE ROSE. 

THE rose had been wash'd, just wash'd in a shower, 

Whidi Mary to Anna convey'd : 
The plentiful moisture encumbcr'a the flower. 

And wei^'d down its beautifhl bead. 

The cup was all fill'd, and die leaves were all wet. 

And It seem 'd, to a fanciful view. 
To ireep for the bods it had left widi regret, 

On.the flourishing bush where it grew. 

I hastily seised it, unfit as it was 

For a nosegay, so dripping and diowa'd. 

And swinging it rudely, toe rudely, alas ! 
I snapp'd U, it fell to the ground. 

And such, I exdaim'd, is die nitilcas part 

Home act hy a delicate mind. 
Regardless of wringing and brMking a heart 

Already to sorrow resign'd. 

This dcgant rose, had I diaken it less. 
Might have Uoom'd with ita owner awhile. 

And dM tear, that is wiped with a Uttle addreas. 
May be folunr'd pcdiape by a smile. 



la deep he seem'd to ^tew 
A rat, fbst eUnghig to the cage, 
And, sateamhog at the sad pnatsge. 



Awoke, and found it true. 



THE DOVES. 

REASONING at every step he treads, 

Man yet mistakes his way. 
While meaner things, whom instinct leads. 

Are rarely known to stray. 

One sUent eve I wandcr'd late. 

And heard the voice of love ; 
The turtle thus address'd her mate. 

And sooth'd die listening dove : 

Our mutual bond offolth and truth 

No time shall disengage ; 
Those blessbigs of our early youth 

Shall cheer our latest age 

While innocenoe without disguise. 

And constancy sincere. 
Shall fill the drdes of those ejos. 

And mine can read them wcve. 

Those ills, that wait on all bdow. 

Shall ne'er be felt by me. 
Or gentiy SAt. and only so. 

As bcang snared with due. 

When U^tnings flash among the trees. 

Or kites are hovering near, 
I ftar lest due alone diey seiae. 

And know no other fear. 

Tis then I fSed myself a wife. 

And wcss diy wedded sidsi, 
Resolvaa a union form'd fbr life • 

Daadk never shall divide. 



eovrmmBJiB pobmb. 



vj 



But oh! ifflokleandondMHte* 
(Forgiw a tnniient thovght) 

Thou wMild become oakind at last, 
And scom thy present lot. 

No need of lightnings from on high> 

Or kites irith cruel beak : 
Denied th' endearments of thine ere. 

This widow'd heart would break. 

Thus sang the sweet ■eqnester'd bCrd, 

Sail as the passing wmd ; 
And I recorded what I heard, 

A lesson for "»wnV<"<<- 



A FABLE. 

A RAVEN, while with glossy breast. 

Her new-laid eggs she fondly press'd. 

And, on her wicker-work high mounted. 

Her chickens prematurely counted, 

(A fault.philofiophers might blame 

If ouite exempted from &e same,) 

Eujoy'd at ease the genial day ; 

'Twas April, as the bumpkins say. 

The legislature call'd it Af ay. 

But suddenly a wind as high. 

As ever swept a winter sky. 

Shook the young leaves about her ears, 

And fill'd her with a thousand fears. 

Lest the rude blast should snap the Sough 

And spread her golden hopes below. 

But just at eve the blowing weather. 

And all her fears, were hush'd together ; 

And now, quoth poor, unthinking Ralph,. 

'Tis over, and the brood is safe ; 

(For ravens, though as birds of omen 

They teach both coiriurors and old women. 

To tell us what is to befell. 

Cant prophesy themselves at all.) 

The morning came, when neighbour Hodge, 

Who long had naark'd her aixy lodge. 

And destined all the tveafiuxe there 

A /^ to his expecting feir, 

Cl£mb'd like a squirrel to his dray. 

And bore the worthless prize away. 

MORAL. 

'TIS Providence alone secures 
In every change both mine and yours 
Safety consists not in escape 
Ytom dangers of a frightful shape ; 
An earthquake may Se bid to spare 
The man that's strangled by a hair. 
Fate steals along with silent tread. 
Found oftenest m what least we dread ; 
Frowns in the storm with angry brow. 
But in the sunshine strikes the blow. 



Silent and diaste she steals along. 
Far firam the world's gay, busy throag -, 
With gentle, yet prevailing feree. 
Intent upon her oestiaed course ; 
ttraceAu and useful all she does. 
Blessing and bless'd where'er she goes, 
Pure-bosom'd as that watery glass. 
And heaven reflected in her fiee. 



A COMPARISON. 

THE lapse of time and rivers is the same, 
Both speed their journey with a restless stream; 
The silent pace with which they steal away. 
No wealth can bribe, nor prayers persuade to stay; 
Alike irrevocable both when past. 
And a wide ocean swallows both at last. 
Though each resemble each in every part, 
A ^firerence strikes at length the musing heart ■ 
Streams never flow in vain ; where streams abound. 
How laughs the land, with various plenty crown'd ! 
But time, Aat should enrich the nobler mind. 
Neglected, leaves a dreary waste behind. 



ANOTHER. 

ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADT. 

SWEE^^r stream, that winds throogh yonder g^ade. 
Apt emblem of a virtuous maid— 



THE POET'S new-year's GIFT 



TO 
MRS. (now LADT) THROCKMORTON. 

MARIA! I have every good 

For thee wish'd many a time. 
Both sad, and in a cheeiftd mood. 

But never yet in rhyme. 

To wish thee fkirer is no need. 
More prudent, or more sprightly, 

Or more ingenious, or more freed 
From temper-flaws un^htly. 

What fevonr then not yet possess'd 

Can I for thee require. 
In wedded love already bless'd. 

To thy whole heart's desire ? 

None here is happy but in part : 

FuU bliss is ^iss divine; 
There dwells some wish in eve^ heart. 

And doubtless one pi thine. 

That wish, on some feir Aitnre day. 
Which fete OuOi brightly gild, 

(*Tis blameless, be it what it may 
Iwlah'ditaUfulfill'd. 



ODE TO APOLLO. 



ON AN 

INKOLASS ALMOST DRIED IN THE SUN 

PATRON of all those luckless brains. 
That, to the wrong side leaolng. 

Indite much metre with mudi pains. 
And little or no meaning : 

Ah ! why, since oceans, rivers, streams 

-That water all the nations. 
Pay tribute to thy glorious beams. 
In constant exhalations — 

Whv, stooping from the noon of day. 

Too covetous of drink, 
Apollo, hast thou stolen away 

A poet's drop of ink ? 

Upborne into the viewless air, 

It floats a vapour now, 
Impell'd througD regions dense and nare. 

By all the winds that blow. 

Ordain'd perhaps, ere summer flies. 

Combined witn millions more. 
To form an Iris in the skies, 
' Thou^ black and foul before. 

Illustrious drop I and happy then 

Beyond the nappiest lot. 
Of all that ever pass'd my pen. 

So soon to be forgot ! 

Phoebus, if such be thy design^ 

To place it in thy bow. 
Give wit, that what is left may shine 

With equal grace below. 



FAIBINO TIME ANTICIPATED. 



Andlu^lqpcdJgnie, 



THE DOQ AND WaTEB-LILY. 






n^niliitjl^ ilmm, 
nv ■ladUgi uf the anwD, 















-.-.anKii.,, 

liTjiiii Hill Mill '•mill, ml J I II 



WKnnB drinB to wkrfS^dh 
bKn bHu *w m biridK 
Wlv ■Kfcoa ■*» IHA ■ Mnfaii, 






V^lac^ Itf p«GH. boi ml tD ■■ 






WINTER NOSBOAY. 



ThcB UaU in u 



Tb* chnHfofLbi liH blDvOll HH 



MUTUAL FORBEARANCE 



90 



THE NEGRO'S COMPLAINT. 



FORCKD flrom home and all its pleasorai, 

Aftic's eoMt I loft finrlcrn ; 
To Increaae a straanr's treasurea, 

O'tor the raging dDIowb borne. 
Mm from Enffluid bought and dold me. 

Paid mypnce in paltrf gold ; 
Btttf though slave their have enroU'd me, 

Minda are never to be sold. 

Still in thoQ^t as free as ever. 

What axe England's rights, I ask. 
Me from my delights to sever. 

Me to torture, me to task ? 
Fleecy locks and black complexion 

Cannot forfeit nature's claim ; 
Skins may differ, but affection 

Dwells in white and black the same. 

Why did all-creating nature 

Make the plant m which we toil ? 
Hulls must fan it, tears must water, 

Sweat of oun must dress the soil. 
Think, ye masters iron-hearted. 

Lolling at your jorial boards ; 
Think how many backs have smarted 

For the sweets yoor «ane affords. . 

Is there, as ye sometimes tell us. 

Is thoe one, who rei£ns on higfa ? 
Has he bid you buy and sell us. 

Speaking from his throne, the sky ? 
Ask him, if vour knotted scourges. 

Matches, blood-extorting screws. 
Are the means that du^ urges 

Agents of his wiD to use? 

Hark! he answers— wild tornadoes. 

Strewing yonder sea with wrecks ; 
Wastins towns, planVaticus, meadows. 

Are tbe voice with which he xpeakx, 
He, fineseeing what vexations 

Aftic's sons should undergo, 
Fiz'd their tyrants' habiutions 

Where his whirlwinds amwer— No. 

By oar blood in Aftio wasted. 

Ere our necks received the ch^a; 
By the miseries that we tasted. 

Crossing in your barks Uie main ; 
By our sufferings, since ye brought as 

To the man-degrading mart; 
All. sustain'd by patience, tauj^t us 

Only by a bnwen heart: 

Deem oar nation brutes no longer. 

Till some reason ye shall find 
Worthier of regard, and stronger 

Than tlie colour of oar kind. 
Slaves of gold, whose sordid dealings 

Tarnish all your boasted powers. 
Prove that you have hiunan feelings. 

Ere you proudly question oors ! 



PITY FOR POOR AFRICANS. 



' Video meliora proboque, 
Deterioni aequar.'— 



I OWN I am shock'd at tbe purchase of daves. 
And fear those who buy them and sell them are 

knaves; 
What I hear of their hardships, their tartures and 

groans. 
Is almost enou|^ to draw pity from stones. 

I pity them greatly, but I must be mum. 
For how could we do without so;;ajr and nun ? 
Especially sugar so ncedftU we see ' 



fispeciauy 
What!gii 



re up our deasert^ our ooflbe, and tee 



Betides, if we do, the French, l^ntch, and Danes, 
Will heartily thuik us, nc doubt, fer oat pains ; 
If we do not buy the poor creatures, thev will. 
And tortures and groans will be multipOed stuL 

If fordgncn likewise would give np the trade. 
Much more in behalf of your wish might be said 
But, while thev get riches by purcfaasmg Macks, 
Fray tell me why we may not also go snicks ? 

Yoor scruples and aiKuments bring to niy mind 
A stoiy so pat, you may think it is o<dn'd. 
On purpose to answer yoo, out of my mint ; 
But I can aasore you I saw It in prut. 

A youngster at school, more sedate than the rest. 
Had once his integrity put to the test ; 
His comrades had plotted an orchard to rob. 
And ask'd him to go and assist in the Job. 

He was shock'd. Sir, like yoa, and antwcr'd— 
" Oh no ! igo ; 

What ! rob our good neighbour ! I prav you doa't 
Besides, the man's poor, lus orchard's his bread. 
Then thhik of his children. Hoc they must be fed." 

" You speak very fine, and you look very grave. 
But apples we want, and apples well have ; 
If you will go with us, yoainali have a share. 
If not, you shall have neither apple nor pear." 

Tbey spoke, and Tom ponder'd— " I see they will 
Poor man ! what a pity to injure him w 1 [go : 

Poor raaa! I would save him his fruit if I coal% 
But staying behind will do hiin no good. 

" If the matter depended alone upm me, [tree ; 
His apples might bang, till they dropp'd tmm the 
But, since they will tiu» them, I think 111 go too. 
He will lose none by me, thou^ I get a term." 



His scruples thns silenced, Tom felt more at k»K, 
And went wlA his comrades the apples to seize ; 
He blamed and protested, but join'a in the plan : 
Ha duEBd in tbe {dander, but pitied the nuui. 



THE MORNING DREAlf. 

'TWAS fai the glad season of spring. 

Asleep at the dawn of ihe day, 
I dream'd what I cannot but sing. 

So pleasant it oeem'd as I lay. 
I dream'd, that, on ocean afloat. 

Far hence to the westward I sail'd. 
While the billows hlgh-Ufted the boat. 

And the fresh-blowing breen never fiiil'd. 

In the steerage a woman I saw. 

Such at least was the form that she wore. 
Whose beauty impress'd me with awe^ 

Ne'er taught me by woman befoxe. 
She sat. and a shield at her side 

Shed light like a sun on the waves. 
And, smiluig divinely, she cried — 

" I go to makefre«nen of slaves." 

Then raising her voice to a itratn 

The sweetest that ear ever heard. 
She sung of the riave's broken chain. 

Wherever her ^oty appear'd. 
Some clouds which had over us hung. 

Fled, chased by her melody dear. 
And methought while she liberty sung, 

'Twas liberty only to bc»r. 

Thus swiftly dividing the flood. 

To a slave-cultured island we eame. 
Where a demon, her enemy, stood— 

Oppression his terrible name. 
In his hand, as the sign of his swar, 

A scourge hung with la^iea he boi 
And stood looking out for his prey 

From Africa's sonowfbl sbuek 

But soon as approaching the land 
That goddess-like woman be vlew'd. 

The saonrge he )et fall from his hand, 
With blood ofhis sol^actt imiarned. 



•re. 



t Bw kin VjOii^K u^^i 



i THE FIHE.APPLK AND THE Bl 



^vLk l£^U ill • Md^ 



OH A GOLDFINCH, 






.Aodtkn&liiaffdkcUMdSii 
Hid taq Twr pEtanr imi. 



dlHTiD«AUbll«Ht- 

LlHI pjDH fed BOH dH pavs 






Wta mm aja » rB^iwgl^ 



Qi 



A REFLECTION 

On tbeioregoing Ode. 

ANDitthif all? Can reason do no more. 
Than bid me ihnn the deep, and dread the dMve 
Kweet moraliat ! afloat on &»'• rough tea. 
The Christian has an art unknown to thee. 
He hoida no parley with unmanly feara ; 
When duty bids, he confidently steeia. 
Faces a thousand daunia at her oall, 
And, tnisting in hia God, ivraioaBta them all. 



THE 

LILY AND THE ROSE. 

THE nymph mutt loae her female friend. 

If more admired than she— 
But where will fierce contentioa end 

If flowers can disagree ? 

Within tiie garden's peacefU acene 

Appeared two Umij ioes. 
Aspiring to the rank of queen, 

Theldly and Uie Rose. 

The Rose sooo redden'd into rage. 

And, swelling with disdain, 
Apjpeal'd to many a poet's page 

To prore her xi^gtit to reign. 

The Lily's height bespoke command, 

A &Ir impoial flower: 
She seem'd oesign'd for Florat hand. 

The sceptre of her power. 

This civil bickering and debate 
The goddess clumced to hear. 

And flew to save, ere yet too late. 
The pride of the parterre ; 

Yours is, she said, the nobler hue. 
And yours the statelier mien ; 

And, till a third surpasses you. 
Let eadi be deemM a queen* 

Thus, sooth'd and reconciled, each seeks 

The fidrest British fair. 
The seat of empire is her cheeks. 

They reign united there. 



IDEM LATIME REDDITUM. 

HEU in imicitias onoties naxit semnla fimna, 
Quam raro pnlchne pulchra plaoere potest ! 

Sed fines ultra solitos discordia tendit. 
Cum flores ipsos bills et ira movent. 

Hortns ubi dulcee praebet tadtosque leeeasus, 
Se rapit in partes gens animosa duas : 

Hie siU regales AmaiTllis Candida cultus, 
Illic pnrpureo vindfcat ore Rosa. 

Ira Roaam et meiitifi qwesita superbia tangnnt, 
Multaqoe finrventt nx cohibenda sinu. 

Dam siU ikutorum det undique nomina Tatum, 
Jusque suum, multo carmine fUlta, probat. 

Altior emlcat ilia, et celso vertlce nutat, 
Ceu flores Inter non habltnra parem, 

Fastiditque alios, et nata videtur in usus 
Imperii, sceptrum. Flora quod ipsa gesat. 

Nee Dea non sensit ciTilis murmura rizae, 
Cui cursB est pictas pandere ruris opes, 

Seliciasque snas nnnquam non prompta toeri, 
Dum ucet et locus est, ut tueatur, adast. 

Et tiU fbnna dator procerior omnibus, inquit ; 
Et tibi, pilncipibus qui solet acse, color ; 



Et donee vincat qnsedam formodar ambas, 
Et tibi regiase nomea, et esto tibi. 

His uU sedatos furor est, petit ntxaqoe n>mpham, 
Qualem inter Veneres An^a sola paxit ; [hi^jus 

Hane penes impexinm est, nihil optant ampUus, 
Regnant in nitidis, et shie Ute, g«»is. 



THE FOPLAB FIELD. 

THE poplars axe fell'd, fivewdl to the shad^ 
And the whispering aound of the cod cdonnade'; 
The winds plav no longer and sing in the leaves. 
Nor Ouse on his bosom their image iecdvc& 

Twelve Tears have elapsed, since I last took a view 
Of my ft vonrite field, and the bank ^irtiere they 

grew; 
And now in the grass bdiold they are laid. 
And the tree is my seat, that once lent me a shade. 

The blaekbizd has fled to another retreat. 
Where the haxels afflwd him a screen from the heat. 
And the sccne.where his melody charm'd me befim. 
Resounds vrilli his sweM-flowiiv ditty no more. 

My ft^itive yean are dl hatting away. 
And I must ere long lie as lowly as they. 
With a turf on my breast, and a stone at my h^id. 
Ere another such grove shall arise in its stead. 

'Tis a si|^t to engage me, if any thing can. 
To muse on the penshlng pleasures 3F m»n • 
Though his lift be a dream, his e^Joymentai, I see. 
Have a being less durable even than he.* 



IDEM LATINE REDDITUM. 

POPULE£ ceddit gratiasima copia sUvse, 
Conticuere susnzri, omnisque evanuit umbra. 
Nullae Jam levibus se mlsoent frondibus aune, 
£t nulla in flnvio ramonmi ludit imago. 

Hdmlhl! Ua senos dum Inctn torqueor annos. 
His cogcnr silvis snetoque carere recessu. 
Cum ser6 radiens, stratasqne in gramine cemena, 
Inaedi arboaribosi, sub qacis errare sdebam. 

Ah ! ubi nunc memlse cantna ? Felidor ilium 
Silvategit,dux«enondumpermlasabipenni; ' 
I Scilioetcnutos colles camposque patentee 
I Odit, et Indignant et non reditnrus abivit. 

I Sed qui suodsas doleo suoddar et ipse, 
Et priiu huic parilis quam creverit dtera silva 
; Flebor, et^ ejBequiis parvis donatus, habebo 
j Defizum la pi d em tumulique cnbantis aoervum. 

Tarn suUtd perilsse videns tarn dlgna manere, 
Agnoaco humanas sortes et tristia fata— 
Sit licet ipse brevis, vducrique simillimus nmbne. 
Est homini bievior dtidsque obitura vdnptas. 



VOTUM. 

' O MATUTINI rores, atmeque salnbies, 
O uemora, et laetae rivis felidbns hertio!, 
Gramind colles, et amoenae in valiibus nmbne ! 
Fata mod6 dederint quas dim in rure pat«no 
DeUdas, pcocul arte, procul finrmidine novi. [bat, 
Quam vellem ignotus, quod mens mea semper ave- 
Ante larem propriora pladdam ezpectare senectam. 
Turn demiira, exactis non infeUciter annis, 
Soartirl taciturn lapid em, aut sub cespite condi ! 

* Mr. Cowper afterward dtered this last stanza 
in the following manner:— 

The change both my heart and my fancy employ 6, 
I reflect on the firauty of man, and his Joys ; 
Short-lived as we are, yet our pleasures, we see, 
Hftve a stillahogrtar date, and d£e sooner than we. 



cowv: 



'8 



S8 



CICINDELA. 

By Vinemt Boune. 

SUB sepe ezisaoin eat, nee nr6 in margine sipae. 

Reptile, quod looet nocte, dieque latet. 
Vennu habet tpeciem, aed habet de lumine nonien ; 

At prisca a xama non liquet, wide micet. 
Plezique a cauda credunt procedere lumen ; 

Nee desunt, cvedont qui rutilani oaput. 
Nam Niperas stdlas quts noz accendit, et llli 

Parcam cadem laoem dat, moduloque pazcm. , 
Fonitan hoe prodens Toluit Natuni caveii, 

Ne pede quia duxo reptile conteieret : 
Kxigiiam, hi. ten^uris ne gtessum ofiendnetullQ*, 

PrBetendi ToIuit fonitan ilia fkcem. " 
Sive usum hnnc Natuira parena, aeu malnit ilium, 

Haud finutra accenia eat lux, radiique dati. 
Ponite Toa ftatua, humilea nee apemite, magni ; 

Quaiid6 babet et minimum xeptiie^ quod nitcat. 



I^THE GLOW-WORM. 

Trambtiion t^fthefirtgiAng. 

BENEATH the hedge, or near the stream, 

A warm is known to stray ; 
That diows by night a lueid beam. 

Which disappears I9 day. 

Disputes have been, and still prevaili 
From whoioe his rays proeeed; 

Some giTe tiiat honour to his tail, 
Anoothers to his head. 

Bat diis is suxe—the hand of night 

That kindles up the akies. 
Gives him a modicum of light, 

Pxoportian'd to his aixe. 

Perhaps indulgent nature meant. 

By such a lamp beatov'd. 
To bid the traveller, as he went. 

Be careful where he trod : 

Nor crush a worm, whose uaefiil light 

Might serve, however small. 
To show a gtumbling4tone by night. 

And save him firom a tall. 

Whate'er she meant, this truth divine 

Is legible and plain, 
>Tis power almi^ty bids him shine. 

Nor bids him shine in vahu 

Ye proud and wealthy, let this theme 
Teach humbler thoughts to you. 

Since such a reptile has its gem. 
And boasts its splendor too. 



CORNICULA. 
By Vinemt Bourne. 

NIORAS^ inter aves avis est, quae plurima tunes, 

Antiquas aedea, celaaque faiia cuit. 
Nil tam aublime est, quod non andace vdatu, 

Aeriis spemens inleriora, petit. 
Quo nemo ascendat, cui non vertigo cerebrum 

Corripiat, oerte hnnc aeligit ilia locum. 
Quo vix a terra tn suspids amqiie tiemose, 

lUa mecus ezpers incolnmiaque aedet. 1 

Lamina delnbri aupra fastigia, ventus 

Qua coeli apiret de reglone, docet ; 
Hanc ea prse rellquis mavnlt, secura perleO, 

Nee curat, nedum cogitat, nnde eadat. 
Res inde humanaa, aed summa per otlai„ spectat, 

Bt nihil ad aese, quas videt, esse videt. 
CoBcursus spectat, platea^ue negotia in orani. 

Omnia pro nugis at aapienter habet. 
Clamores, quas infra audit, si finaitan audit. 

Pro rebua nihili neglisit, et erocitat. 
nte tiU invideat, fislix dunieula, pennas, 

${ai aic homanis rebus abesse veliu 



II^THE JACKDAW. 

TranalaHtm qfthefimgobigm 

THERE is a bixd, who by his coat. 
And by tlw hoaraeneas of hla note. 

Might be supposed a crow ; 
A greet frequenter of the ehurcb. 
Where. biabop.like, he finds a petch. 

And donmtoiy too. 

Above the steeple shines a plate, 
Tliat tarns and tuma. to inaieate 

From what point Uowa the weather. 
Look up— your brains begin to swim, 
'Tis in the clouds that pleases him. 

He chooses it tlie rather. 

Fopd of the speculative hebdit. 
Thither he wings his airy flj|^t. 

And thence securely sees 
The bustle and the raxeeshow. 
That occupy mankind below. 

Secure, and at his 4 



You thhtk, BAdflohtt he sits and muses 
On future broken bonea and bwiisan. 

If he should chance to fidl. 
No; not a single thoiwht like that 
Employs his philosoptoc pate« 

Or troubles it at aU. 

He sees, that this gqeat roondabont. 
The world, witii all its motley routj 

Church, armv. phydc, law, 
Ita customs, and its busfaieases. 
Is no concern at aU of his. 

And says— what a^s he ?— Caw. 

Thrice happy bird ! I too have seen 
Much of the vanities of men ; 

And, sick of having seen 'em. 
Would cheexftdly these limbs reagn 
For such a pair of wings as tliine. 

And such a head between 'em. 



AD 6RILLUM. 

ANACREONTICUM. 

Bjf Vineent Bourne. 



O QUI mess cuUnse 
Argntulus diaraules, 
Et hospes es canorus, 
Qnaeunqutt commoreiis, 
FelicitatM omen ; 
Jttcundiore cantn 
Siqnando me salutes, . 
Et ipse te rependam, 
Et ipse, qua valebo, 
Bemunerabo musa. 

IMoeils innocensqne 
Et gratus inquillnus } 
Nee victitans rapinis, 
Ut Borioes voraoes, 
Moresve cuxioai, 
Furumque delicatmn 
Vulgus domesticorum ; 
Bed tutus in camini 
Beoesaibus, quiete 
Contoitus et calore. 

Beatior Cicada, 
Quae te referre forma. 
Quae voce te videtur 1 
£t aaltitans per herbas, 
Unius, baud secutadae, 
iBstatis est chorista : 
Tu carmen integmtom 
Rep<nds ad Deconbrem, 
Lsetus per universum 
Inoontlnenter annam« 



lU 






III^THE CBICKEI. 






JwiiCawii^nirilgf. 

liw n«L unSftwS ha 1H, 
Hdta qu7D<~V»< •Oil IW 

SIMILE AGIT IN SIMILE. 



IV^THE FABROT. 



fjo wubiB rom 



>b Owr. md on iliun child. 



At nU (h* v«UdflhSiHi«, 



^^^-^f^ 



Bb iBB^H Ida B^u bt anUHL 
WoAlM ukiK ( HKB, adlonil'd. 

N»lL> HMO anSma I nm diSet, 



HISTDRV OF JOHN OILPIH: 



SlJba^ba^ aiad. 



■^SSih^^ IbUkSiila. 



Ub^DanvjittlHfliiv ^^ 



TwaloLtMlmliiEiiiiim 






\ 






oa 



m apo; 



Fidl dovlj iMwiag o'n ilw 
With emtfm ud food head. 



But finding aoon a anooiliMr zomI 
Beneath hi* well-shod feet. 

The morting iMui began to tro^ 
Whidi^'d him in his I 



So. fUr and loftly, Joim he ciiad. 
But John he ctied in vain ; 

That trot became a gallop (COB) 
In qpite of coib and ran. 



So stooping down, •• 



.Who cannot sit upright, 
fe grasp'd the muM w& boA 
£ad eke with aU his might. 



heiMHt 



likl|Bida, 



His hoise, who nercr In Oat tort 
Had handled been before. 

What thing upon his back had gat 
DidwoiMcri ' 



Away went 6ilpla» neck ear noag^t ) 

Away went hat and wig ; 
He little dreamt, when he set out. 

Of running anch a rig. 

The wind did Mow, the cloak did fly 

LUce streamer long and gaj. 
Tin, loop and kntton iSriitag both. 

At last it flew away. 

Then mi^t all people wtdl diseoa 

The bottles he lud slung : 
A bottle swinging at each Sda^ 

As hath been said or song. 

The dras did bark, the chUdna Mnam'd, 

Up new the windows all ; 
Ana everr aool cried oat. Wen doae 

As load as he coold bawl. 

Away w«nt Gapin— wholnt he ? 

His fiune soon spread around, 
Hecaxrleswd^t! he rides an 

'Tisfor a thousand pound! 

And ttiU, as fiat as he drew 
'Twas wonderful to view. 

How ina txioe Ote tianpilce i 

. Their gates wide open ttirew. 

And now, as he 'went bowfei|| down 

His reeking head ftill low. 
The bottles twain behind his back 

Were sbatter'd at a blow. 

Down ran the wine iatofk» Nad, 

Most piteous to be seen. 
Which made His Ivoise's midCB w 

As they liad basted been. 

But stiU he seon'd to carry weJght, 
With leathern girdle braced ; 

For all might see me bottle necks 
Still danj^ing at his waist. 

Thus all Arou^ merry XsHngtOM 

Tlieee gambols he did play. 
Until he came unto the warn 

Of Edmonton so gay ; 

And then he threw the wash about 

On both sides of the way. 
Just like unto a trundling mop. 

Or a wild goose at play. 

At Edmonton his loriiw wUb 

Prom the balcony gpwd 
Her tender husband, wondering much 

To see how he did ride. 

Stop, stop, John CHlpbi I— Here's the 

The^ all at once did cry; 
The dinner waits, and we are tiled : 

Said Gilphu^o am I ! 

Sut yet his horse was not a whit 

Inclined to tarry there ; 
For why i>-4iis owner had a house 

FuU ten miles off, at Wan. 



So like an anew swift he flcif 
Shot by an archer strengi 

So did lie fly— which brings me to 
The middle of my song. 

Away went OUpIn oat of brsatb, 
And sore agsinst his iriU, 

Till at his fiiend the caMPCer'k 
His hone at last stood stiU. 

The calendar, amazed to see 
His neighbour in such trim. 

Laid down liis pipe, flew to tiw gale, 
And thus aooosted him : 



WhatnewB? whatnewi? yoortidingBtea; 

Tdl me you must and snaU— 
Say whr bare-headed you are cone. 

Or why you come at ail ? 

Now GUpin had a pleasant wit. 

And loTed a tinmy joke; 
And thus unto the odender 

In merry guise he spohi t 



nse your hone 
And, iflwellfotebodb, 
Mt hat and wigirm soon be here. 
They are upon the road. 

The calender right glad to find 

His firiend in merry pin. 
Returned him not a single word, 

^t to the house went in ; 

Whence straii^t he came wltfi hat and wig 

A wig that flow*d behind, 
A hat not much the worse nr wear. 

Each comely ia its kind. 

He held them up, and in his turn 

Thus show'd his ready wit. 
My head is twice as big as yours, 

Thqr therefine neew must flu 

But let me scrape the dirt awi^. 

That hangs upon your fiue : 
And stop and eat, for well yon may 

Be in a hungry case. 

Said Jdm— It is my wedding-day. 
And all the worla would staxb 

If wtEe should dine at Edmmitd^ 
And I should dine at Ware. 

So taming to his horse, he sdd, 

I am in haste to dine ; 
'Twas fi>r vour pleasure you came here. 

You shall go Deck for mine. 

Ah luckless speech, and bootleas boast ' 

For which ne paid fuU dear ; 
For, while he spake, a braying ass 

Did sing most loud and dear ; 

-Wliereat his horse did snort, as lie 

Had heard a lion roar. 
And gaUop'd eff with all his mi^t. 

As ne had dome before. 




Fn why ?— They were too Ug. 



Now Mrs. 6Qpin, when she saw 
^ Her husband posting down 
Into the country for away. 
She pull'd out half-a-crown ; 

And thns unto the youth she saia 
That droTe them to the BeU, 

This diall be yours, when you bring back 
My husband safe and well. 

The vouth did rlde^ and aooodid meet > 

John coming back amain } 
Whom in a trice he tried to stop. 

By catchi^ at his rein; 

But not performing what he meant . 
And ^adly woald b>vr dooa^ 



Tlv pi4-bn{fiont Tlabl dit to ml 
nit; auS £thS?S Dj :— ™ 






ArBW™li,*~i rt.iaLDBnrfj«ij>Ul, 



HBV. W. CAWTHOhNE UNW 



AftM^ amjfc dIfaiyS 111 Uni, 



TtH pMI l^n, to ta U^^ii^ 

ANSWBB TO STANZAS 
faUfn, h^!Sriifif7%JSy Mr. Cn,n^, 



H FINDING TH£ K 



001V*Bm.'S *OH 



Tli»^^adiUDe ihiU iboi 



fiiniJillMdMaiinltoS. 



!^§S^ 



EPtSrLE TO JOSEPH HILL, ESU- 












100 



Ac mead. 



~ tuxjmmm; 



Old^ 

Bids me and ] 
Bat lowelj iiKiiv peeps o^obii bead. 

And vhiqien jooz ictiuo. 

Then AprO, inth her data Msf , 
Shall diaK Dim fimn die bowen. 

And weave fineth gulaads eveiy day. 
To cnnm the Mniling hows. 

And if a tear tfiat ^wala TCgiet 

Of happi0 timea, ^ipear, 
A gtimpae of joy diat «e have me^ 
I shine and di7 flae ( 



TRANSLATION OF 

PRIOR'S 
CHLOE AND EUPHBLIA. 

XERC ATOB, vSgBes ocolos Qt lUen ptMit 
Nomine soh ficto tiana maie mitttt opcB ; 

Lene sonat liq[Oidnmqae meia Eophdia dMXdi^ 
Scd ioiam exoptant te, mea voia, ChlSe, 



Ad speeohmiflnabat nitidoa Eophdia ofno* 
Cam dixit mea Ins, Heoa, cane, nnne tfxam. 

Nampie lyiam jnxtapoAam com caxmine vidit. 
Suave qnidem carmen dnlciionamqoe 151am. 

Ria hfOB vooemqae pan, uibjrfjtia uiiguut, 
Bt miaccnt niunens monnara moesta meJa, 

Dumqoe tiue memoro landes, Enphelia, fiamae, 
Tota aaima iaterea pendet ah oae CUfies. 

Sotevbet iUa podoR, ct oontnUt altera frantcmf 
Me torqaet mea meu conscia, psallo, tiemo; 

Atane CnpkUnea dixit Dea dncta corona, 
&n! aUendi axtem quam didkere param. 



A TALEL 



This tale Is fiamded on an article of fartdBgence 
-wfaida the author cfinnd in the BafCkinahaDtthlre 
Hertfd, te Sataiday, Jane Ut, 1793, inlke toUow- 



Qtngom, Mag ISd, 17S3. 

** In a hbMk, or palli9, near tfie head of tfaemast 
of agahert, now Ijing at the Broomidaw, there is 
a chaffiiwh's nest and fimr cess. The nest was 
boilt while the vessel Imj at Graenock, and was 
followed hither bgr both birds. Thoon^ the block 
is oceasiomdlv kwcxed te the InspectiaD of the 
euzjons, the bods have not teasfcen die nest. The 
cock. Iwwever, visits the nest bat sddom, while 
tiie hen new leaves it, botwhrn she imctnii to 
tfaebaUtetwd." 



IN SoottaDid'k sealm, iriicae trees areifew 

Not even dmbs abound; 
Bat vrtiere» however bleak die view, 

Sosne better things are fimnd: 

For hnsliandflMze and wife magr boast . 

And Cslae ones are as rare afanoat 
As bedge-nws in the wild. 

In Seotlaad*t realm, telom and bate. 
The history chanced of late— 

This history* of a wedded pair, 
A '•fc ^W iw* and his 1 — " 



Thetpring drew near, eadi ttt a breast 

Wuh genial instinct fill'd; 
TlwT paird, and woold have bailts 1 

Bat temd not where to baud. 



The heotfis untovei'd, and tise 
Except with snow and deet, 

8ea-beaSen rocks and nakwi 
Coold yield them no 



Aeysoi^t, 
and tired; 



Longtimea 
Till bodi grew 

At length a ddp anivi 
Tbegoodsoloag ' 



A difo ?— coald todi a lestleas tiUng 
Amwd dic m ^l ace of r est ? ^__ 

Or was the mesauoit ^larged to bnnp. 
The hansdesB birds a nest 3 



Hosh-ailent hearers pcofit 
^ This racer of the sea 
Proved kinder to diem than die 
It served them with a tree. 



Bat such aHee! twasdiavcndeal. 
The tree dwy call a mast. 

And had a hollow, widiai^cd. 
Throng whidi dte tackle paisU. 

Wldsfavdiat cavity aMl 

Their roofless home they fix'd, 
Foim'd with maitcaials neat and soft, 

Benta^ wool^and feadwrs mix'd. 





Withr 
The vessel 


asset necks bedight ;— 
we^l^ tesakes the shore, 


Andki 


•enstothesi^it. 



The motfacr-biid Is gone to sea. 

As she had ehaued her kind ; 
Bat goes dw male? Far wiser he 
> Is doabdeaskft behind? 



Nos— aoon asuuui 

^le winged inauan<» luvw^. 
He flew to reach it, by a law 

Of never>fiBling love. 



Then perdrfng at his c o ns or ts side^ 

Was briskly bone along. 
The billows and the blast defied. 

And cfaecr'd her with a sosig. 

The seaman with sineeie ddi{^t 
HisfcBtlier'd shipmates eyes. 

Scarce less exalting in the sfght 
Than when he tows a pdw. 

For ffwpw" mach bdieve in signs. 
And from a dianoe so new. 

Each some uMMPooching good divines. 
And may Us hopes be tme ! 

adly honon i^d lan d ! adeseitiriiete 

Not even birds can hide, 
TeMiarent of diis loving pafar 

Whom nothing cooldf divide 



And ye who^ radier titan i 

Year matrimonial plan. 
Were not afraid toploai^ the brine 

In company with man : 



Foe whose lean uuuiiliy nmch '^i"'***'* 

V^SD^IAaAen show, 
Yet frcen a tidier nothing gain 

Bat wantonness and wet 

Be it your Galuue, year by year. 
The same resowrpe tojn ojy, ^ 

And may ye, sotnetimes MiiMllng hoe, 
Inatmct OS how to love. 



THE NEEDLESS ALARM. 

A TALE. 

THEBB Is a fidd, dmogh which I cAsn poi 
TUdk ovennread with moss and s&ky grass, 
Adkining dose to Kihrkk^ echoing ' 
Wfimoftdiebitch-flsbUeshi ' 






MSBALIZKB COKRBCTED. 



Cjro»«»»Bi>iFi liiuiwinmiiw. ' 
fl» iiMJ mWafi lih ply III Hnri ; 



FAITHFUL BIRD. 






liMHtid kUjOMltlll B Rill 
fetgumiilo • towJlMl -, 






blilwDnitl,3wq3<; 



Fncuiii -lib cAMUb^ 



B^n 1i on u bHIov-d. 



SUNSET . 



MY UOTHER'S PICTURE 



T*hHt Bri«w4 l^3(m«^ wot HOB idIh, 



FEiGKuamr. 



TH nqoliUB OunkiH tStS, 






ItdOv « snliuSi^^' 



In vain the talbtttrs unite 

In hapa of pennanent delist— 

Tn» Wfavt Jiut committed, 
VaKgtKbig CO tapcwttuae wctelitj 
TbCT drop through mere dcore to prate. 

And by tbenMelves ontvitted. 

How- bright Me'er the nnwpeet aeema. 
All thougbta of friendship axe hut dreams. 

If envy chance to creep in ; 
An envioas man, if yon succeed. 
May prove a dangerous foe indeed. 

But not a friend worth keeping. 



105 



As enty jrines at good poaaess'd, 
fio Jeaiousy looks fiarth distrets'd 

OnKOod, that seems approaching; 
And, ifsuccess his steps attend, 
IMaMna a rival in a Mend, 

And hates him for encroaching. 

Hence anttiors of iHostrious name, 
' Vnleas belied fay eoBUBon£une^ 

A» sadly prone to quarrel. 
To deem the wit a frioid dismays 
A tax won their own just pndss,, 

And pluck each other's laurel. 

A nan renown'd test repartee 
Will seldom scruple to make free 

With friendship's finest feeling ; 
Wm thrust.* dagmr at ye«r breact. 
And say he wounded you in jest, 

fiy way of baba far ha^kagt 

Whoevor kaepe anopen ear. 
For tattlersy will be sure tohaar 

The trumpet of contention*; 
Aspersion is tiie bidibleK's trade* 
To listen is to lend him aid. 

And rush into dissention. 

A friendship that in frement fits 
Of eontroversial rage emits 

The sparks of dispntatian^ 
like bana-ln.hand insurance plates. 
Most unavoidably craatoe 
^ Thcttumghtefcoallagiatiant 

' Some fickle creatones boast a soul 
True as a needle to the pole. 

Their humour yet so various— 
They manifiest their whole life tfarougn 
Theneedle's deviations too. 

Their love is so precarious. 

The great and small but rarely meet 
On tenia cf amity oom]^et»; 

Plebeians must surrender, 
Atadyteld so much to noble foil;, , 
It is combining fire with smok^ 

Obscurity with splendor. 

Some «tc so placid and seren* 
(As Irish bogs are alwajn green) 

They sleep seoutefrom wannr; 
And are indaeil a btfg, that bears 
Your wnparUeipatsdcatBS 

Unmoved, and wtthout qoaUng. 

Courtier and patriot cannot mix 
Their heterogeneous iwHtics 

Without an eflbrvescence. 
Like Ant of salts with lemon Jnice, 
Whidi does not yet like that produce 

A friendly coalescence. 

Rdigion should extinguish strift, 
Andmake a calm of human tffe ; 

But Mends that chance to dlAr 
On points which God has left at large, 
How freely will diey meet and charge ! 

No combatants are stiffbr. 

To prove at last my main intent 
Needs no expense of argument. 

No cutting and contriving— 
Seeing a real friend we seem 
To* admit the chemist's golden dieam. 

With still le« hoiie of thriving. 



Semettmea flic Ihnit to all our own, 
8ome hlemish in doe ttmemade known. 

By trespass or omissioa ; 
Sometimes occasion teiius.to light 
Our fklend's defkct, long hid from sight. 

And even from suspicion. 

Then Judge yoursd^ and prove yonr man 
As circiuniq>ectly as you can. 

And, having nuule election, 
Bewigre no negiisence of yours. 
Such as a firimd out ill endnrw^ 

Enfeeble his affection. 

That seeiets are a sacred trust. 

That friends should be sincere and. just. 

That constancy befits them ; 
Are obaervatioaa on the case. 
That savour mncfa of eommon-place^ 

And all the woild admits then. 

But tis not timber, lead, andstme^ 
An architect requires alone. 

To finish a fine building^ 
The palace were but half complete 
If he could possibly fotget 

The carving and the giliing. 

The man who hails yon Tom or Jack, 
And proves by thumps upon your back 

How be esteems your ment. 
Is mth a firiend. Hat one had need 
Be very much his friend indeed*^ 

To pardon <nr to bear it. 

As similarly of mind. 

Or something not to be dJefilned, 

First fixes our attention ; 
So manners decent and polite. 
The same we pacdsed at first sight. 

Must save it from declension. 

Some act upon this prudent plan, 
** Say little, and hear all you can." 

8af^ policy, but hateful — 
So barren swnds imbibe tlie shower, 
But render neither fhiit nor flower, 

Ifiipleasant and ungrateAil. 

The man I trust, if shy to me. 
Shall find me as reserved as he; 

No subterfbge at pleading 
Shall win my confidence again ; 
I will by no means entertam. 

A spy on my proceeding. 

These samples— for alas ! at last 
These are but samples, and a taste 

Of evils yet uumentioa'd— 
May prove the task a task indeed. 
In which 'tis mnoh if we succeed 

However weU-intention'd. 

Pursue the seardi, and you will find 
Good sense and knowleoge of mankind 

To be at least expedient 
And, after summina all the rest. 
Religion ruling in the Inreaat 

A prindpaiingredieBt; 



The noblest fitendhhip ei 

The Saviour's fadstory makes known. 

Though some have tnm'd arKl tumV it ; 
And, whetiber being crazed or blind. 
Or seeking with a bias'd mind. 

Have no^ it seems, diseem'd it. 

O Friendship ! if my soul forego 
Thy dew ((eiights while here below ; 

To mortifr and grieve me. 
May I myselr at last appear 
Unworthy, base, and insincere. 

Or may my friend' deceive me ! 



THE FOUR AOE& 

A BrirfFragmuU ^an tatemtie* rnQeded 

Pofln— 1791. 

i ** I COULD be well content, allows the use 
Of past experience, and the Wisdom gleaa'd 



ooufi»*B *oa] 



bgdfcr»a«vUH ihvjiURHL 



*^^g<J*JJ^*^^ 



Th« VWT nuu« Ihu dDn ihw fb 






TO THE REV. Ma NEWTON, 






TbaillflliisU>MliiiiM!cU<>H. „ 

Tb* Im In l3l^'h™Tl pUblj a- iMj, 

WUtt^ill aupWt !■ lit M ■!• wlita» ! 
If™lil->«llia>liflI»lHti>rWn, yjjjj'^ 



I JSSFiI-jijJb ™ pM^ 



LlldOl dtat-hltlilUtbqQlft, 
Andnnb ■• la Bj Alh 



Bam ikoa ikiiliHrSlln null ;« <n 



tMjgliwl u Oa Tsirii BDI or HoTUIItj sf di 




Win xnli bHA ud J^wtufil^ 
riMIMIiliiblll>«>«mpilTtl>t«luiili]; 
Ba^ mi£i| Hu. lb* id« bov ip««kK bi A I 



EnUbnitr, TbnlmqndMidaffrfSAeBmnJsT;**— 



AD Oii^WiiSliBiii >iini^ Is 



AD OMjWiiSliBiii >»nHT dm, 



DU bnln srSd^bn> pn 






108 



amnnntu^B ffoams. 



ON A SIMILAR OCCASION, 



For die Yew 1789. 



—PladdajHM tbi ifemiim morU fuUvit. Vitg. 
There calm st length be tareath'd his loiil awey. 



" OH most delMitftil hoar bj man 

Experienced here below. 
The hour that tarmliiatea hi* apan. 

Hl«fi>Uj,aiidhiawo! 

Worlds Aoold not Inibe me back to tread 

Again life's dreaiy waste, • 
To lee again mj day o'ermread 

With aU the gloomj past. 

Mt home hencefimlh Is In the skies; 

Earth, seas, and sun adieu ! 
All heaven uidblded to mj eyes, 

I have no si|^ for you." 

So spake Asposio, firm possess'd 

Of fiiith's supporting rod. 
Then breathed nis soul into its rest. 

The bosom of his Ood. 

He was a man among the tew 

Sincere on virtue's side ; 
And alibis strength from scripture drew. 

To hourly use applied. 

That rule he prized, by that he fiear'd. 

He hated, hoped, and loved ; 
Nor ever ftown'd, or sad appear'd. 

But when his heart had roved. 

For he was frail, as thou or I, 

And evU felt within: 
But, when he felt it, heaved a sigh. 

And loath'd the thought of sin. 

Such lived Aspasio ; and at last 
Call'd up from earth to heaven. 

The gulf ordeatit triumphant pass'd, 
By gales of Messing driven. 

His toys be mine, each reader cries. 

When mv last hour arrives : 
They shall be yours, my verse veplies, 

Such only be your lives. 



ON A SIMILAR OCCASION> 
For the Year 1790. 



Ne eommotuntem recto »penu. 
Deqiise not my good coonsd. 



Buchanan. 



HE who sits from day today, 
Where the prisonVl lark is hung. 

Heedless of his loudest lav. 

Hardly knows that he has sung. 

Where the watchman in hlf nmnd 
Nightly lifts his voioe on nigh. 

None, aocostom'd to the sound. 
Wakes tiie sooner fiar his cry. 

So your vene-mtti I, and clerk. 
Yearly in my soi^f proclaim 

Death at hand-^yourselves his mark- 
And the ibe's uncrrii^ aim. 



Duly at my time I come, 

Publislung to all aloud- 
Soon the grave must be your home. 

And your only suit, a shroud. 

But the mqnltorf strain. 

Oft repeatol in your ean. 
Seems to sound too much in vain. 

Wins no notice, wakes no Jban* 

Can a truth, by all confiess'd 
Of such magnitude and weight. 

Grow, by being oft impress'd. 
Trivial as a parrot's prate ? 

Pleasure's call attention wlns» 

Hear it often as we may } 
New as ever seem our sins. 

Though committed every day. 

Death and Judgment, Heaven and Hell- 
These alone, so often heard. 

No more move us than the bell 
When some stranger is interr'd. 

O then, ere the turf or tomb 

Cover us from every eye) 
Spirit of instruction come, 

Make us leam that wa must die! 



ON A SIMILAR OCCASION, 
For the Year 1792. 



''dis, qui pottat nnan eogmotetre eautatp 

Afaiie mehu omnes et ituwnUiUefatum 

Sv^jeeU pedibus, HrepUvM^ut A^ermitU mart ! Virg 

Happy the mortal, who has traced efffects 
To their first cause, cast iear Iwneath his feet. 
And Death and roaring Hell's voracious fixes I 



THANKLESS finr fkvoun flcom on hi«^, 
Man thinks he Ades too soon ; 

Though 'tis his privilege to die. 
Would he improve the boon. 

But he, not wise enouf^ to scan. 

His bless'd concerns aright. 
Would gladly stretch life's little span 

To ages, if he might: 

To ages in a woild rfpain. 

To ages, wliere he goes 
Call'd by affllotion's heavy chain. 

And hopeless of repose. 

Strange fondness of the human heart, 

Enamour'd 'of its harm ! 
Stran|» world, that costs it so much smart,'' 

And still has power to charm. 

Whence has the world her magic power ? . 

Why deem we death a foe ? ^ 
Recoil from weary life's best hour, ^ 

And covet longer wo ? 

The cause is Conscience— Conscience oft 

Her tale of guilt renews : 
Her voice is terrible, though soft. 

And dread of death ensues. 

Then anxious to be longer spared 
itf an mourns his fleetii^ oreath : 

All evils then seem light, compared 
With the approach ofdeath. 

Tishidgment shakes him; dieret tlie ISear 
That prompts the wish to stay : 

He has incurrd a long arrear. 
And must despair to pay. 

PatfJ-Jktlovr Christ, and all is paid ; 

His death your peace ensaies ; 
Think on the grave where he was laid. 

And calm descend to ymir«< 



QO 

ON A SIMILAR .OCCASIOl^ 
FortheTesr 1793. 



'8 »6 



109 



De taerii amtem Aoc tU una tenieiUiaf trf tmutr- 
ventur. — Cic De Leg. 

But let US all eoncnr In this one sentimoit, t&at 
things sacred be inviolate. 



HE lives, who lives to God alone. 

And all are dead beside ; 
For other source tluut God is none 

Whence life can be (applied. 

Tp live to God Is to requite 

His love as best we may : 
To niake his precepts our delight. 

His promises our stay. 

But life within a narrow ring 

Of giddy joys comprised. 
Is felsdy named, and no such thing, 

But rather death disguised. 

Can life in them deserve the name. 

Who only live to prove 
For what poor toys they can iH«r!|f |iiiii 

Anendless life above ? 

Who, much diseased, vet nothing feel ; 

Mnch menaced, nothing dread ; 
Have wounds, which only God can heal. 

Yet never as^ his aid ? 

Who deem his house a useless idace^ 
Faith, want of common sense ; 

And ardour Jn the Christian race, 
A hypocrite's pretence ? 

Who trample order, and the day 

Whidi God asserts his own 
Dishonour, with unhallow'd play. 

And worship chance alone ? 

If scorn of God's commands, Impress'd 

On word and deed, imply 
The better part of man, nnUess'd ' 

With life that cannot die; 

Such want i^ and that want, nncured 
Till man resians his breath. 

Speaks him a cnminal, assured 
Of evtflasting death. 

Sad period to a pteasant ooone ! 

Yet so will God repay 
Sabbaths profened wlmout remorae. 

And vaetcy cast away. 



ON THB 
QUEBN^ VISIT TO LO'JWOH, 
The Night of the 17tfa Msrdi, 1789. 

WHEN, long aequester'd fhnn his throne, 

George took his seat again. 
By rij^t of worth, not blood alone. 

Entitled here to reign. 

Then Loyalty, with all his lamps 

New-trlmm'd, a gallant show ! 
Chasiiw the darkness and the damp% 

Set £ondon in a glow. 

Twas hard to tdl. of streets or jquaios. 
Which ferm'd the chief display. 

These most resembling clustex'd stan« 
Those the long milky way. 

Br^ht shone the roofe, the domes, the rpires. 

And rockets flew, self driven. 
To hang their momentary fires 

Amid the vault of heaven. 



^fire with water to oonpaxe, 
'be ocean serves, on high 
Up-spouted by a whale in air. 
To* express unwieldly j<9. 

Had all the pageants of the world 

In one procession Join'd, 
And all the banners oeen unfUrl'd 

That heralds e'er design'd ; 

For no such sight had England's Qaeen 

Forsaken her retreat. 
Where George, recover'd, made a scene 

Sweet always, doubly sweet. 

Yet glad she came that nifi^t to prove, 

A witness undescried. 
How much the object of her love 

Was loved by a& beside. 

Darkness, the skies had mantled o'er 

In aid of her d es i g n 
I>idrkne8s,0 Queen! ne'er call'd before 

To veil a deed of thine ! 

On borrow'd wheels away she flics. 

Resolved to be unknown. 
And gratify no curious eyes 

That night, except bar own. 

Arrived, a night like noon she sees. 
And hears the million hum ; 

As allb^ instinct, like the bees. 
Had known their sovereign come. 

Fleased«he bdield aloft portray'd 

On many a splendid wall. 
Emblems of health and heavenly aid. 

And George the theme of , all. 

Unlike tte enigmatic line. 

So difficult to spell. 
Which shook Belshaxxar at his wine 

The nii^t his city fell. 

Soon watery grew her eyes and dim. 

But with a Joyftd tear. 
None else, except in jprayer ftr him, 

Geoige ever drew from her. 

It was a seene in every part 
Like those in feble fe^'d. 
And seem'd by some magician's art 
, Created and sustain'd. 

But other magic there, she knew. 

Had been exerted none. 
To raise such wonders in her view. 

Save love of Geoige alone. 

That cordial thought her qpirits cheer'd. 
And through the cumberous thrang. 

Not else unworthy to be feai'd, 
Convey'd her calm along. 

So, ancient poets say, serene 
The sea-maid rides the waves. 

And fearless of the Ullowy scene. 
Her peaceful bosom laves. 

With more than astronomic eyes 
She view'd the sparkling show ; 

One Georgian star adorns the skies. 
She myi±hds found below. 

Yet let the a^orlea of a night 
Like that, once seen, si^Soe, , 

Heaven grant us-no sudi future sight. 
Such preWous wo the pdoe I 



THK 
ENCHANTMENT DISSOLVED 



BLINDED in youth by Satan's arts, 
The world to our iminraatised hearts 
A flattning prospect shows ; 



lis 



THI 
FOLLOWING ACC0I7NT 



0/ttf trmtmmtiffldMamm 



<iiMrM h$ Mr. 



IN tiM jear 177t, bdnr mndi indlipeMd bodi te 

iMiiid aad body, inespabl* of dlvertiogmjMlf etthcr 

with ooinpaoy ot books, and yet ia • condltlaaOist 

niide MBMdlTenlon iwcawMy, I wis glad of any 

dkinc that woold angage my attentlou without 

liitigBliif it. The children of a aeichboar of mlna 

had a leveret given them ibr a playtUng; it waa at 

that time about three months old. Undentaadbag 

better how to teoie tfie poor creatore than to feed 

it, and loon becoming weary of thdr diarge, they 

Keadlly contented that dieir flilher, who law it pining 

and growing leaner ereiy day, ihoald oflhr It te my 

aoeeptance. I was willing enoit^h to take llie 

priaoner under my protec t ion^ pcroeiTing that, in 

the management of inch an animal, and in the 

attempt to tame it, I ihoald find Jwt that aort of 

employment which my caie required. It waa leon 

known among the nelghbovra that I waa pleaaed 

with the pveaent: andtheeon8e^enoewaa,thatia 

a ihort time I hadjM many leverets oAnd tome aa 

wenld have stocked a paddock. I undertook the 

can of three, which it is neueiaaiy that I dMnld 

here dlstlngniah by Oie oames I gave them-JPnss, 

Tbiey, and Bess. Notwithstanding the two fanl- 

nhw appellatives, I must inSinn yon that ai«y were 

all males. Inanediatdyeommeneingcaipantar, I 

bnBt them hoases to deep in ; eadi had a tepante 

apartment, ao contrived, that tfadr ordnse woold 

peas throogh the bottom of it ; an earthen pan 

placed nndencadi received whatsoever -Ml, which 

being duly emptied and washed* tiicy ware thns 

kept perfectly sweet and dean. In the div>tlme 

(hafhadthaianfleora hall, aoi at ai^t letfaed 

eadi to his own bed, never intruding into that of 



laaveaofnt 

cndim««ni««s iaiheleaeeaatoeafthaft vine he 



Illy ftnOlar, would leap iato my 
lap, ndM himself upon hia hinder Ibet, aad Ute the 
haiif froaa ngr tpmplai. Bewouldsoi&grnietotaka 
Mm up, and to cany him about in a^ arms, aad 
has moae than once fidlen fhst asleep upon my knee. 
He was ill three days, during which time I anised 
Mm, hspt h i m a part firom his <mows,that tbtj ndtfit 
not molest him (fbr Bke many other wild animali» 
they persecnte one of ttieir own species that is sixdc) 
aad by ooastaat care, aad tryiagMm wtdi a vaiiaty 
ofheilM, restored him to perbct health. No crea- 
ture could be mose gratefU thaa my patient after 
Ms reooveiy ; a sentiment which he meet signifi- 
cantly opretsed by licking my hand, first the back 
of It, then the palm, Ukcn every finger aeparatdy, 
then between all the fingen, as if anxious to leave 
ao partof itunsaluted} a ceremony wMdi he never 
pe rfim ned but oaoe again upon a similar eecaikm. 
Fladiag him ezticmriy tractable, I made it my 
onstom to carry him always after breaklSMt into the 



hlB «a this tMte ef Ubaity, bdbve he began to be 
tmpallsnt fix tfie aetnim of the time when he mi^t 
oi^ey It. He wnoid Invito me to the garden by 
ny knaa,and by a look of suoh 
as H waa aetpeariWe to mlalnMqpvat. 
if iMs iheliiric did ao* imoMdlately ancoaed, he 
weuldlafcatheskirtefmyoeat between Ms taath, 
andpnUatkwIthaUhlifiieoe. Thus Pun might be 
aald to be peirtetly laraad. tha diyaess ef Ms aatoK 
was dene away, aad an the whole it waa vlaibto by 
naay agraptoBUa which I have not room to eaamc* 
M^ that he waa hapr^ar In T*TT^Br society thm 
when shut up with his aatnral compaaiena. 

NeiwTlMyt upanhlm the kindest taeatasMt 
had not tile least eflbct. Be too was slok, and la Ms 
glokaaabadaaaqnalsharaofmyatlaniloni butif 
aftar Ms recovery, I took the Ubarty to stroke Mm, 
he woold grunt, strike wiUa his fine Ael^ Vrinc 
fiarward, aad bito. He waa however wy entsa- 
taiafcag in Ms way i even Ms snrHness waa matiar ef 
mlrtfat aad la Ms play he piaaaned such an air of 
gravity, aad partacmad his fitoto with suoh a adam- 
Bllrefmanasr, thatlnMmtooIhadanagmaaUe 
cosapaaion. 

Bas% who died aeon after ha was Ibll grown, and 
whose dea t h waa occastnnad bj his being tuned 
into his boK, which had been washed, while It waa 
yet damp, waa « hare of gaeat humour aad drallaiy. 
Puss was tamed Iqr gentle naage; Tineywasnotto 
he tamed at all} aad Besa ^tad a ooorage aad 
eonfldanca tfiat made him tame from the begtnaiag. 
I alw^a admitted them into the perloor after 
suppar, whesi, the tito oaipat aflEtodtaBV their .ftM a 
firm hold, thay woold ftlsk* and bound, and play a 
thousand gambols, la which Bass, beiag remarkably 
strong and ftadeas, waa always aaperlor to thereat, 
and protedjiimself the Vestris of the parly. One 
evasiing the cat, baingin the room, had the hardiness 
to pat Bcas upon the cfwct", aa indignity which he 
resented by dnvnmiag upon her back with such 
viotano^ that the cat was happy to esca^ flrom 
uadar his pawi^ aad hide hcaaelfi 

I dasocibe fliese animals as having eada a chame- 
terofMsowa. SniA they ware la Ihct, and their 

iha^ when I looked only on the fluse of tf ther, I 
Immediately knew whidi it was. It is saldttiat a 
shepherd, however numerous Ms fiock, .soon bo> 
eomes to fiunHiar with their fimtnxes, that he can, 
by that Indicatlen only, distinguidi eadi firom all 
tibo rest; aad ye^ to acoDomcn dnerver, the dlflkr 
enoe Is hanlly perceptible. I doubt not that the 
same dlseirimlnation la the cast of ooontenaaoae 
would be disoovefable in heresy aad am persuaded 
that among a thousand of them no two could be 
fimnd exactly similar i a dreumstanoe little sus- 
pected by thoM who have qot had an opportonity 
to observe it. Theto creaturea have a •faigniaT 
sagadty in diaoevedng the minutest alteration that 
is made ia the j^ace to whidi tfiey are ace ns tomadt 
and instantly apply tiidr hom to the eamlnalkn 



114 



afsMWolilect. ▲ tmalX hole'belnK bunt in the 
cvpcty'it wat maided wMb a patch, and that patch 
in a mfltnent imdanrent the itrict ait teratiny 
They Mcm too to be vary much dfaaeted b^ the 
■mell in the choice of their &Toaiitei ; to lome 
penona, though ttM^ nv them daily, thqr could 
newr be reconciled, and would even Kseam i<rhm 
they attempted to touch them; but a miller oomiiig 
in engaged tiitir afitetiangat caaoe; hit powdered 
coat had dianns that were inesittible. It is no 
' wonder that my intimate acqnaintanoe with Cliew 
■peclmens of tiie kind has tai^t me to liold the 
•portsman's amiuement in abhomnae; he little 
knows what amiable creatures he perwcates, of 
what gratitude they axe capable, now dieerfal they 
are in their spirits, what enjoyment fhey have of 
lift, and that, impressed as they seem with a peen- 
liar dread of man, it is only becanse man gives 
them pecoliar cause tat it. 

That I may not be tedious, I wUI Just give a 
short snmnuuy V those articles of diet that suit 
them best. 

I take it to be a general oplnfan that they gnse, 
tat it is an emmeoos one, at least grass is not their 
staple; they aeem rather to use it medicinally, soon 
^tting it fiff leaves of almost any kind. Sow* 
'thistle, dandelion, and lettuce, are their favourite 
'sregetables, especially the last. 1 discovered bj 
•oeident, that fine white sand is In great estimation 
witik them ; I suppose as a digestive. It happened 
that I was cleaning a Urd-cage while the hares 
were with me; I placed a pot filled with such sand 
upon the floor, which beii^ at once directed to by 
a strong instinct^ they devoared voraciously; since 
that time I have genendly taken care to see them 
well supplied with it. They account green com a 
delicacy, both blade and stalk, but tiie ear they sel* 
d«n eat ; straw of any kind, especially wheat-straw. 
Is another of their dainties; they wUl feedgieedily 
vponoats, Irat if fiimished with clean straw never 
wiant (hem; it serves (hem also fin: a bed, and, if 
ahaken up dally, will be kept sweet and dry ibr a 
eomiderabletime. They do not indeed require aro- 
matic herbs, but will eat a small quantify of «->iwn 
with great rrilsh, and are particularly fond of the 
plant called musk; they seem to resemble theep in 
(his, that, if their pasture be too succulent, tiiey axe 
very subject to the rot; to prevent wliich, I always 



made bread their principal nourishment, and, iiiHi^ 
a pan vrith it cut into small squares, placed itevo^ 
evenfaig in their dumbers, for they teeO. 6nly at 
eventaig and in die night: during the winter, when 
vegetables were not to be got, I mhigled this mess 
oChread with shreds of carrot, adding to it the rind 
of apples cut extremely thin, fiv, though they aie 
fimd at tlie paring, the apple itself diagnsis thfnr- 
These however not being a su£Sdent substitute for 
the Juice of summer herbs, they must at this time 
be supplied wttnirater; bntso placed, that ttwy 
cannot overset it hito their beds. Imnstnotomit^ 
that occasionally th^ are much pleased irlth twigs 
of hawthorn, and of the common brier, eating even 
the vexy wood when it is of considerable thtrWi—f . 
Bess, I haie said, died young; Tiney lived to be 
nine years old, and died atlast, I have zeaion to 
think, of some hurt in his Idns by a &I1; Puss is 
still living, and has Just completed his tmfh year, 
discovering no signs of decay* nor even of age, ex* 
cept that he is grown more discnet and lees fkolie> 
some than he was. I cannot conclude irithout 
observing, that I have lately introduced a dog to 
his acquaintance, a q)aniel that had never seen a 
liare, to a hare that had never seen a spaniel. I 
did it with great caution, but there was no reai 
need of it. Puss diacoverea no token of tear, nor 
Marqnis the least symptom of hostility. There is 
thcMdbre, it should seem, no natural antipathy be- 
tween dog and hare, but the pursuit of the one 
occasions the fli^t of the other, and flie dog pnr. 
sues becanse he is trained to it; they eat bxead at 
die same time out of the same hand, and axe in all 
re^ectt aodable and fidendly. 

I should not do complete Justice to my snbijeet, 
did I not add, that th^ have no ill scent belonging 
to them, that th^are indefttigably nice in kceplitg 
tiiemselves clean, .^ which purpose nature has 

ftiinidied them with a brush under each fiiot; and 
that th^ axe never infigsted bj any namin. 

May S8, 1784. 

MtmorandmnfiHmd among Jfr. Confptr*a paptn, 

Tuesday, March 9, 1786. 

This di9 died poor Puss, aged eleven years deven 
months. He died between twelve and one at: 
of msN old ife, and appaxentljf wlthont pai^ 



THB END. 



TH£ 



POETICAL WORKS 



or 



OLIVER GOLDSMITH, M. B. 



WITH 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 



OF 



THE AUTHOR. 



LONDON : 

PUBLISHED BY* JONES & COMPANY, 

Na 3, WARWICK SQQARE> 

1824. 



GLASaOW: 
rriotcn to tlM VahoiUi* 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 



THE AtlTHOa 



CONTENTS. 



Pagt 
TheTnTdler 3 

VTheDeMTted Village: 9 

Tbeifanuichsfyeninn It 

Betaliation 13 

PoMoiiie 14 

Tbe Hermit, 8 Ballad 15 

J)oiddeTraiMfiinn8tion,aT8le . . .17 

TheGlft ib. 

The Logtetamt rtftited ..... 18 

Onabeanttftil Yoath atrnck blind I>j Li^t- 

niag ..... ....Ib. 

A new Simile lb. 

An Elusy on tlte Death of a Mad Dog» . . ib. 

The Clown's Reply 19 



Paige 

Stanxaa en Woman . . • . .10 

Descriptfon of an Aufluir'a Bed'dMBdier . ib. 

Seqg ib. 

StamateadietBfclnffarQnrtiep . . i». 

EpitaidioaDr.Faxnell . . . • ib. 

- on £dwatd Puriion • • • ■ SO 

An Elegy on Mti. Jtfaxy BMse . . ib. 

A Sonnet ibb 

SongfkamtfieOiertweaffheCaiMtvilj, i . Jb. 

Song iu 

Pvologue, wxitten andjpofcenbjlthe Poet I^be- 
rina» A Boroaiyftnigbt, whocn Caeasr figreed 
uponthestage. •••••. fl& 



TO THS 



REV. HENRY GOLDSMITH. 



Dear Sir, 

I ABC Muible duit the fldenddilp between us can 
aoqoize no new totem tnm tiie oeremonlet of a 
Dedlcatkm; and peiliaps it demands an ezcose 
thus to porefix toot name to my attempts, which 70a 
decline gMstg with joor own. But as a part of 
this poem was fomeriy written to you from Swit- 
aerland, the whole can now, with pro|Hrie(7, be 
only ittscilbed to you. It wiU also throw a light 
apon many parts of it, when the reader understands, 
dtat it is addressed to a man, who, despising Fame 
and Foartnne, has retired early to happineu and 
obscurity, with an income of forty pounds a-year. 

I now perceive, my dear brother, the wisdom of 
your hnmUe choice. Tou have entered upon a se- 
ared office, where the harrest Is great, and the 
labottveiB are but few; while yon have left the 
field of Ambition, where the labourers are many, 
and die hartcst not worth carrying away. But 
of all kinds of ambition, wh4t from the refinement 
of the times, from diffbrent systems of criticism, 
and from die divisions of party, that which pur- 
sues poetical fame is the wildest. 

Poetry makes a principal amusement among un- 
poUdicd nations; but in a countiy Teiging to the 
•stremes of refinement. Fainting and Music come 
in fior a share. As these offer the fbeble mind a 
len laborious entertainment, they at first rival 
Poetiy, and at length supplant her; they engross all 
tiiat fiivour onoe shown to her, and though but 
younger sisters, seize upon the elder's Uith-rif^t. 

Ifet, however this art may be neglected by the 
poweifbl, it is stm in greater danger f^m the mis- 
taken efforts of the learned to Improve it. What 
criticisms have we not heard of late in fkvour of 
blank verse, and Pindaric odes, choruses, anaepests 
and iambics, allitorative care and happy negli- 
genoe ! Eveiy absurdity has now a champion to 
dabalit; and as.he is generally much in thewrong^ 



so he has always much to say; fi>r ems Is ever 
talkative. 

But tiien is an enemy to tltls art still more dan- 
gerous, I mean Party. Party entirely distorls the 
judgment, and dcitroyi the taste. When the mind 
is onceinlbcted with this disease, it can only find 
pleasure in what oontiibutcs to increase the diitem- 
per. Like the tiger, that seldom desists fkmn pur- 
suing man after baring onoe preyed upon human 
flesh, the reader who has once gratified his appetite 
with calumny, makes, ever after, the moet agice- 
able feast upon murdered reputation. Such feeders 
generally admire some half-witted thing, who 
wants to be thought a Ixdd man, baring lost the 
character of a irise one. Him they dignify with 
the name of poet t his tawdry lampoons are called 
satires ; his turtmlenoe is said to be fbrce, and his 
frenzy fire. 

What reception a poem may find, which has 
neither abuse, party, nor blank verse to snppoet it, 
I cannot tell, nor am I solicitous to know. My 
aim4 are right. Wlthoat espousing the cause of 
any party, I have attempted to moderate die rage at 
aU. I have endeavoured to show, that there may 
be equal happineesin states that an difibrently go- 
verned from our own; that every state has a par- 
ticular principle of happiness, and that this prin- 
ciple in each may be carried to a miaehievous ex- 
cess. There are fbw can Judge better than your- 
self how fitr these poaitians are illustrated In thia 
poem* 

lam. 

Dear Sir, 
Your most afikctionate brother, 

OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 



TRAVELLER; 



A PfiOSPECT OF SOCIETY." 



1^, 






DEDICATION TO THE DESERTED VILLAGE. 



TO 



SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 



Dear Sir, 

I CAN have no ezpectationt In an addresa of this 
kind, either to add to yonr repntation, or to es- 
tabllah my own. You can gain nothing tkom my 
admintiont as I am ignorant of that art in which 
joa axe aaid to excel ; and I may low mndi by the 
•ereri^ of your Judgment, as &w have a jiuter 
taste in poetry than yoii< Setting interest tberefiore 
aside, to which I never paid mueh attentten, I 
most be indnlged at present in following my afliw- 
tions. The only dedication I ever made was to my 
brother, because I loved him better.than most other 
men. He is since dead. Permit me to inscribe this 
poem to yon. 

How &r you may be pleased widi the versification 
and mere mechanical parts of this attempt, I do not 
pretend to inqnire : but I know yon will otject (and 
Indeed several of OUT best and wisest filends concur 
In fbe opinion) that the depopulation it deplores is 
tM where to be seen, and the dlsordexs it laments 
are only to be found in the poef s own imagination. 
To this I can scarce make any other answer than 
that I sincerely believe what I have written; that 
I have taken all posaible pains, in my oonntxy es- 
conions, fer these fimr or five years ipast, to be 
certabu of wliat I allege; and ihat all my views and 
Uupilries have led me to believe those miseries real, 
vhldi I hoe attempt to diqilay. Buttiiisisnotthe 



pla6e to enter into an biqiilry, whether the ooontrjr 
be depopulatiag, or not; the discussion would take 
up much mom; and I should prove myself, at best, 
an iodigbrent politician, to tire the reader with a 
long preface, when I want his nnfiUigucd attention 
to a long poem. 

In regretting the depopnlation of flie oouatiy, I 
inveigh against the inorease of our luxuries; and 
here also I expect the shout of modem poUtidans 
againstme. For twenty or thirty years past, it has 
been the fiuliion to consider luxury as one of the 
greatest national advantages , and aU the wisdom 
of antiqui^, in that particular, as erroneous. Still, 
however, I must remain a professed andent on that 
head; and continue to think those luxuries pn;}ndi> 
dal to states by which so many vices az« introduced, 
and so many kingdoms have been undone. Indee d, 
so much has been poured out of late on Hue ether 
side of the question, that, merely fiir the sake of 
novels and variety, one would aometimet wish te 
be in (he li^t. I am. 

Dear Sir, 

Tour rinoer« friend, and ardent adinlxer, 

OUVER GOLDSMITH. 



DESERTED VILLAGE. 



THE 

HAUNCH OF VENISON, 

A fOenCAL ErSTlB TO LOUD CLARE. 

naai rBiNxiD iv ith. 



Nvrai niw\l in ■ ftnac <■ ■BHk'd Id A BlHnr I 
lliB huD^ vH ■ pjcnn br p^ilBn Id Ad*, 




ri|BitMyllih n.iJUf-*m p»i •■ ■ tduH > 

--. r'r^-^i'i '^f "'""^m. jSmiSlSr'^ 



RETALIATION; 

9 ^otin, 






IF 0111 Iiiiillllld> BmUn HI -llh bief ud >llll 
Ltt sii^l£i< Mnf^lUuUr. .IDd bi Uingl lUi 
Oa dHD t AUI tn'TUlHii, JnH Anil <*™ Ou 






Lrttw pondir, ud leU «b4 1 lUiA ^wdwt ' 
Han tui 1h* gooddwi tiKfiHtd w Mr^ 

At liH^ UliTiMb I oiwU DM Bid 'Ml HIi 
VttnnilmdKlu^i^nantttdciilid ■■, 
Ttat ai4oou n ciudh emnlH to bid* 'nn. 

Bb tlaa aiii ■^Biiim>4r<'liiiH iWk 
jgi MWdj ciui^nlBt 1^ or Mm fc fog mn A j 



II Hi! hKub Butti, liu HOT 
H to. tuolucd Cirnlifllii.d, (ui 
iDdUii. FBUHubk Low, ihilUi 






If C«uailliiijDif%d|i, iin* 
^1 Hb J«ha R^™Mi. 



To «l Sinua edirSdcMitoaaMlli mek 



UU mSia i^Fri^i, >li 



■nUHiun taaiinf ^1^^ ^wtund op* of hb 
SUM Uin » IboH icddsn^ u • Uni-i it. 



ratmntaliloUiLanlu, i TwoonrtaaHHitiflpi, orc^clDiilrllu 



THE HERMIT;* 
9 Sallalr, 



FIRST PRINTED IN 1765. 



*TURN, gentle hermit ef flu dal«^ 

And gntde my lonelj way, 
To where yon tiner chaen me Tale 

With hospitable rqy. 

' For here forlorn and lott I txeac^ 
With fUnting fetepa and dow ; 

Wheie «ilds, immeasurably apNfld, 
Seem lengthwiing as I go.' 

* Forbear, my von/ the Hermit eries, 

* To tempt the danceroos gloom 
Foryondtf fidthlesa pnantom flies 
To lure thee to tbj doom. 

' Here to the hooseleac child of want 

My door is open still ; 
And thongh my portion Is but scant, 

I «ive it with good wllL 

* Then torn to-night, and iieciy ihazie 

Whate'er my cell bestows ; 
My nuhy couch and flrugal fkre. 
My blesaing and repose. 

' No flocks that range the vaUcj frec^ 

To slaughter I condemn :; 
Tawdit by that Power that i^tles me, 

I leam to pi^ them t 

* Bnt from the monntahilBgraiuside, 

A goiltleis feast I bring: 
A nana with herbs and fraltsMpplIed> 
AmA water from the ^pcbos. 

* Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cvrastiacagoi 

All earth-bom cares are wrong; 
Man wants but little here below. 
Nor wants that little long.' 



Soft as the dew fttnn hesven descends. 

His gentle accents fell t 
The modest stranger lowly bands. 

And follows to the cell. 

Far. in a wilderness obscure. 

The lonely mansion lay ; 
A refuge to the neighb'ring peer. 

And strangers led astray. 

No stores beneath its hvmble thatch 

Requir'd a mastert care ( 
The wicket, op'ning with a latch, 

ReceiT'd the hannless pair. 

And now, when'besy crowds retim 

To talce their evening rest, 
The Hermit trimm'd his little Ave, 

And chetf'd his pensire guest: 

And spread his vqjetable store. 

And ndly press'd and smii'd ; 
And. skUl'd in legendanr lore, 

llxe lingering nours beguii'd.. 

Around, in sympathetic mirth. 

Its tri6ks the kitten tries; 
The cricket chirrups in the hearth | 

The crackling feggot flies. 

But nothing could a diam impart. 
To soothe the stranger^ woe ; 

For grief was heavy atnls heart, 
A^d tears began to flow. 

His rising cares the Hennlt spM^ 
With answering care oppress'a i 

Andf* Whence, imhappy youth,' he cried, 
* The sorrows of thyloeast ? 



I- 



• The fbUondng Letttr, addruted to At Printer qftht St. Jamc^ Cftitwiclr, a/tMind is Oat Paj/tr, in 
MM, 1767. 

SlRt 

AS there is nothing I dislike so much as newspaper controveny, particularly upon trifles, permit me 
to be as condse as possible in informing a correspondent of yours, that I recommended Bleinville's Travels, 
because I thou^t the book was a good one; and I think so still. I said, I was told Inr the bookseller 
that it was tlien first published; but in that, it seems, I was mjiinftrmed, and my reaoing was not ex- 
tensive enough to Set me rig^t. 

Another ccrrespondent of yours accuses me of having taken a ballad, I published some time ago, 
from one by tlie ingenious Mr.Percy.f I do not think there is a^ great resemblance between the twa 
pieces in question. If there be any, his ballad is taken from mine. I read it to Mr. Percy some years 
ago ; and he (as we both consiaared tliese things as txiflee at best) t<M me, with his usual good 
humour, the next time I saw Ixim, that he had taken my plan to form the fragments of Sliakspeaze into • 
ballad of his own. He then rmd me his little cento, if I Zoay so call it, and f hi^biy approved it. ^uch 
petty anecdotes as these are scarce worth printing : and, were it not for the bu^ disposition of some of 

Jour correspondents, the public should never have Imown that he owes me the hint of nis ballad, or that 
am obliged to iUs niendship and ieaming for commluiicatioas ef a mudi more inqportant nature. 

I am. Sir, 

- YoBrs, ^cOf 

OLIVER GOU)SMITB^ . 

t The Flier of Ordefs Orqy. ** Rdlq. of Anc Foetzy," TaUi»p>S43» 

Ba 



16 

* From better habltatloot tpuiii'd, 
Rdactant doit thou rare ; 

Or crie^ tor friendihip umetuzn'd, 
ur^mrGgarded love? 



*Alat! the Joy* that fintane brings 

Are trifling, and deca^ : 
And those who prize the paltry ttiiqasi 

More tziflinff itiU than tbay* 

* And whatis friendship but a name, 

A charm that lulls to sleep ; 
A shade that follows wealth or fione. 
And IcaTcs the wretch to weep ? 

* And lore is stiU an emptier souna. 

The modem &lr-one's iest ; 
On eartl^ unseen, or only nrand 
To warm the turtle's nest. 

' For shame, fond youth ! thT sonows hush« 

And spurn the sex,' he said: 
But. whue he spoke, a rising blush 

His loTC'loom guest betraT'd. 

Surpris'd he sees new beauties rise. 

Swift mantUng to the view ; 
Like odours o'er the morning sUes, 

As bright, as transient too. 

The bashful look, the rising breast. 

Alternate sprnd alarms : 
The lovelv stranger stands confiBSsU 

A maid in all her charms. 

And, ' Ah, forgive a stranger rude, 
A wretch forlorn,' she cried ; 

* Whose foet, unhallow'd, thus intrude 

Where lleaven and you reside. 

' But let a midd thy pitjr share. 
Whom love has taoght to stray ; 

Who seeks for rest, but finds despair 
Companion of her way. 

' My fiither IlT'd beside the Tyne, 

A wealthy lord was he ; 
And all his wealth was mark'd as mine. 

He had but only me. 

' To win me firom his tender arms, 

Unnumber'd suiton came; 
Who prais'd me for imputed charms 

And iieli or feign'd a flame. 

' Each hour a mercenary crowd. 
With richest proffers strove ; 



Among the rest yomiff Edwin bowld. 
But nerer taUc'd of love. 

' In humble, simplest habit dad. 

No wealth or power had he ; 
Wisdom and worth were all be had, 
. But these were all to ooe.. 

' The blossom opening to the day. 

The dews of heaven refin'd. 
Could nought of purity display. 

To emulate his mind. 

* The dew, the blossoms of the tree. 

With charms incortStant shine ; 
Their charms were his, but, wo to me. 
Their constancy was mine. 

* For still I tried each fickle art. 

Importunate and vain ; 
And, while his passiaa tooch'd my heart, 
I triumph'd in hJa pain. 

* Tin, quite dejected with my scam. 

He left me to my pride ; 
And sought a solituae finrlom. 
In secret, where he died. 

* But mine the sorrow, mine the fkult. 

And well my life shall pay : 
I'll seek the sofitade he sought. 
And stretch me where he lay. 

* And there, foriom, despairing, hid, 

I'll l«y me down and die ; 
'TwBS so for me that Edwin did. 
And so for him will I.' 

' Forbid it. Heaven !' the Hermit cried. 
And clasp'd her to his breast: 

The wondering fair-one tum'd to chide t 
'Twas Edwin's self that press'd ! 



* Turn, Angelina, ever dear. 

My charmer, turn to see 
Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here, 

Kestor'd to love and thee. 

' Thus let me hold thee to my heart. 

And every care resign : 
And shall we never, never part. 

My MSe—ag all that's mhie? 

' No, never firom this hour to part. 
Well live and love so crue ; 

The sigh that rends thy consuuit heart. 
Shall break thy Edwin's too.' 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



DOUBLE TBANSFOCMATION. 






Wikm Oil bwujl anSmtonT,' 

■asll tema' u S>nl£%il, 
TitilKtKk ten ukir QK 

Htt Jm i ul Sm MipiM tin tU I 



THE GIFT. 

TO IRIS, 






UJGICIANS REFUTED; 



BEAUTIFUL YOUTH 



he ihoXTit, Ulrt cSpS; Mi; 



rni'lT^d Urn pkiBirTu hiknrii 






a< itfiJgSjte ■wMi ■■» ■ 



Oor iuad«rn%iKb J why. ■!!«■» 



(iOOT> p«plr All, of eroy n 



tt HUl 4 ndij rw» ha nd. 






£™"^g^, 



CLOWN'S REPLY. 






£d v^^hUbwm-J>» 10 ^ 



DfflCRIPnOS 



STANZAS 









. DU BTUinida»^tnot Utlbow- 



so 



EPITAPH 



ON 

EDWARD PURDON.* 

HERE.Iies poor Ned Piudon, from vaiterj fireed. 
Who long was a bookseller's hack ; 
He led such a damnable life in this vorld, 
I don't think he'll vish to come back. 



AN ELEGY 

ON THE GLOKY OF HER SEX, 

MRS. MARY BLAIZE. 

GOOD people all, with one aceord. 

Lament Tor Madam Blaize, 
"Who never wanted a good word— 

From those who spoke her praise. 

'The needy seldom pass'd her dooi^ 

And always found her kind ; 
She fteely lent to all the poor,— 

Who left a pledge behud. 

She strove the neighbourhood to please. 
With manners wondrous winning; 

And never fbllow'd wicked ways,— 
Unless when she was siiming. 

At churchKin silks or satins new. 

With hoimi of monstrous size ; 
She never slumber'd in her pew,— 

Eut when she shut her eyes. 

Her love was sought, I do aver. 

By twenty beaux and more : 
The king himself has foUow'd her,— 
When she has walk'd befinre. 

Bat now her wealth and finerr fled. 

Her hangers-KHi cut short all ; 
The doctors found when she was dead,— 

Her last disorder mortal. 

Let us lament, in sorrow sore. 
For Kent-street well may say. 

That, had she lived a twelvemonth more,- 
She had not died to*day. 



A BONNET. 

WEEPING, murmuring, complaining. 

Lost to every gay delight ; 
Mira, too sincere for feigniitt. 
Feats th' approaching bridal night. 

Yet why impair thy bright perfection. 
Or dim thy beauty with a tear? 

Had Mba foUow'd my direction, 
St;e l(Hig had wanted cause of^fear. 



* This gentleman was educated at Trinity-col- 
lege, Dubun ; but, having wasted his patrimony, 
he enlisted as a zbot-soldier. Growing tired of 
that employment, he obtained his discharge, and 
became a scribbler in the hewqwpws. He trans- 
Uted Voltaire's Henriade. 



FROM THE 
ORATORIO OP THE CAPTIVITY 

SONG. 1 

THE wretch condemn'd with life to part, 

StUl, still on hope relies ; 
Aytd every pang that fends the heart, 

^ds expectation rise. 

Hope, Uke the glimm'ring taper's light. 

Adorns smd cheers the way : 
And still as darker grows the night. 

Emits a brighter day. 



SONG. 

O MEMORY, thou fond deceiver. 

Still importunate and vain. 
To former joys, recurring ever. 

And turning all the past to pain ! 

Thou, like the world, the oppress'd oppressing. 
Thy smiles increase the wretch's wo; 

And he who wants each other blessing. 
In thee must ever find a foe. 



PROLOGUE, 

Written and spoken by the 
POET LABERIUS, 

k ROMAN KNIGHT, WHOM CXSkK rORCEO 
UPON THE STAGE. 

Preserved by Macrobtus.* 

WHAT ! no way left to shun th' inglorious stage. 
And save from in&my my sinkifag age ! 
Scarce half-alive, oppress'd with many a year, 
What in tibe name of dotage drives me here ? 
A time there was, when glory vas my guide, 
Nor force nor fraud could turn my steps aside. 
Unawed by power, and unappall'd by fear. 
With honest thrift, I held my honour dear : 
But this vile hour disperses aJl my store. 
And all my hoard of honour is no more ; 
For, ah ! too partial to my life's decline, 
Cssar persuades, submission must be mine ; 
Him I obey, whom Heaven itself obeys. 
Hopeless of pleasing, yet inclined to please. 
Here then at once I welcome every shame. 
And cancel at threescore a life of tame ; 
No more my titles shall my children tell, 
' The old buffoon ' will At my name as well { 
This day beyond its term my fiite extends. 
For liiie is ended when our honour ends. 

* This translation was first'printed in one of 
our Author's earliest works, *The Present Suie 
of Learning in Europe,' l^iipo. 1759. 



FINIS. 



.■■JJ.i«, luii^ni^ 



imtUu ^ Bartftri- Th< "^r^ <■ itteHbU lu <i qffrti Of 






i!y j?!Ti^ BJ!ir!riTW5ihi ^^ 

r-oi'-'ininiiiiiiiiiii iiifi iiiintii i n 

gMW^^ni^ am SiiiWHI dmuU 

■lit ILM «1S *II> I On uC TdlSni kMId, 
T& fcM& ipMaMlilliiKtDMia^t. [whnu 

X^AMtimi bm a« diiiii^^ Mai 

gldlD«bimtl bib 



•nt nirWiTMi.flittiMnrriilpMilwlH. 




Ha lui mjoiV Oh ^BlSbl nThwiD, 
StSjSHallhj ■»■».. BMiliiiuUr 
Ml 1 1 1 llinl Bill, !>■ WIW* €< Ih. liooti 
bAoibViiISmuUjjhi Dm ul. 

fSdlnvM wuiT ipHlilitoJ^iia ftB. 






>r r<«>>ru4 ait dim^^iu 






I AJlu bi in7c3a al dSi'Siii,'^ U» tMla- 






bw Vim iHiiii idhiB^iffiilibi 






AfUlH^VnulaT 






luiMum ilUhf iti 

m- — 




ITit *wt ^y- indi ft™ tf* Jim TotJ, 



AUTUMN. 



Tta mM i H ftwttKi. AUrHira to Mr, Omjbup- A pntpnl ^ Affi^iit rtafyAr krrvr^, M^/erUmt 
Awl^gar£ A J99crlftit<t'^ji^, fiHotati* at taltir pari ^AMIiii'Bi:''Mrve a Jfgretitom, Iri^mrii^ 
!m^ A ftttM^lkl iSJ^, faJly .miJ/. ^1^,-2,%Ljtyi^jm^U. Munwl 

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Tlwiv let Oie dKfilindli flute, the ▼licta't lajr, 
Tbe womvtiiig Knph, and the pocft 1 jre, 
8tm ita^&ttGod oTSMMm, as tfan nil. 
Par nM» when I fnnet the darltng theme. 
Whether the bloMoni blows, the Sammer-ny 
WaiMti the plain, Inipirlnir Antnmn gleanu. 
Or Winter met in the blaAenlne east ; 
Be my tengae mute, my &ncy pemt no more. 
And, dead to joy, finget my heart to beat! 

Shoold bte command me to the ftrthest verfe 
Of die gVMD eardi, to distant barfoanos dimes. 
Riven wiknown to song ; where fint the sun 
Gilds Indian moontalns, or his setting beam 
Flames OQth'AtUatk; Islet; tis nau|^t to om : 



Since God is ever pneeent, ever £dt. 
In the void waste as in the city fall ; 



I And where He vital breathes there must be Joy. 
When even at last the solenm hour shall come. 
And wing my mvatic flight to fiitoze worids, 
I chenfld wfil obey ; there, with new powers. 
Will rtring wooden sing. I cannot go 
Where Universal Love not miles around, 
Sostalning all yon orbs, and all their sons ; 
Prom seeming evil stiU educing good. 
And better thence again, and better still. 
In infiniteprogression. Bat I lose 
Myself in Him, in Ugfat InefTable ! 
Come then, cxpresrive Silence, mnae His pcalsai 



THE 



SHIPWRECK; 

9 ^otmt 



BY 



WILLIAM FALCONER. 



WITH 



A SKETCH OF HIS LIFE. 



queque Ipw mlaeniaaa vidi, 

Bt qaaram pan magna fiii . 

fh^. JEn. Lib. t. 



LONDON : 
PUBLISHED BY JONES & COMPANY, 

3, ACTON PLACE, KING8LAND BOAD. 

1824. 



•\> 



THE LIFE 



OF 



WILLIAM FALCONER. 



Mb. WILLIAM FALCONER, the Author of this 
interaitiiig poem, waa bom at Edinbnxgh, about 
tbe year 1730. His Ikther was a poor, but indus- 
trkNU man; vho had to suppoR a large bmily, 
the whole of whom, with the single exception of 
William, were either deaf or dumb, from the pre> 
cadoas emoluments of a Barberrsbndness. It may, 
flierafiire, be readily understood, that his education 
could not be such as to confer upon him the adTan- 
tages to be derived from an early acquaintance witti 
Greek and Latin authors. A modoate knowledge 
of his natlTe language, with writing and arithmetic, 
which every poor man's son, bom in Scotland, 
enjoys, finrmed the sum total of liis early education. 
He afterwards ac<iuired some knowledge of Ae 
French, Spanish, and Italian, and, it is supposed, 
of the German also. These acquirements show 
how strongly he was bent on the cultimtlon of his 
mind. 

When Tuy young, he entered on board a mer> 
chant vessel at Leith, in which he served an 
apprenticeship. He was afterwards servant to 
Campbell, the author of Lexiphanes, when purser 
of a ship, who is stated to' have taken considerable 
pains in improving the mind of the young seaman, 
and to have subsequently felt a pride in boasting of 
his scholar. At what time the calamitous event 
occurred, which furnished the subject of the Skip- 
nrndCf has not been ascertained : he was then, it 
appears, employed in tlie Levant trade. He c n- 
tinued in the merchant servioe till 1762. In t iuit 
year, the SMprvreck made its flnt appearance, in 
quarto, dedicated to his Royal Highness Edward, 
Duke of York, who had hoisted it flag as rear 
admiral of the blue, on board the 1 Mncess Amelia, 
of eighty guns, attached to the fleet under Sir 
Edward Hawke. ^ 

There is no reason to call in question his having 
been exposed to all the complicated horrors he so 
fbrdbly and pathetically describes: this seemjt evi- 
dent fivm several parts of his poem, especially the 
motto, 

qtueque Ipse miserrima vidi, 

Et quorum pars magna ftd 

The poem met with a reception highly flattering 
to our Author's reputation. He was patronized 
by the Duke (of York, to whom he addressed^itn 
Ode m kit Second Deportun from England at Rear 
Admiral i and« emoging from the obscurity of his 



former situation, was appointed Purser of tbe Royal 
George man of war. 

In 1765, he published The Demagogtu, a political 
satire on Lord Chatham, Wilkes, and Churchill, of 
which it is enough to say, that had Falconer never 
written any thing but satire, his name would long 
since have been fingotten. 

In 1769, his Marine Dictionary made its appear- 
ance; a work replete with information ibr mch as 
wish to acquire a proficiency in naval archiCectnre 
or nautical knowledge. 

At this period he resided in the metropolis, sup- 
porting himself chiefly by his literary exertions. 
Among other resources, he ii said to have received 
a pittance from irritlng in the Critical Review, 
under his countryman Mallet. He had received, 
the preceding year, proposals from his friend Mr. 
Murray, to enter into company with him as a book- 
seller, on his taking Mr. Sanby^ business in Fleet 
Street ; it does not appear from what cause he was 
led to decline the oSBac. While he was preparing 
to pubUsh a third edition of the Shipnreek, he 
obtained the highly advantageous appointment of 
purser to the Aurora frigate. Captain Lee, which 
was ordered to carry out Mr. Vanslttart and the 
other Commissioners to India, widi the promise of 
bring made their private secretary. The catas- 
trophe is well known. The Aurora frigate sailed 
on the 30th of September, 1769, left the Cape on 
the S7th cf December, and was heard of no ntan. 
It is the most probable opinion, that she foundered 
in the Mozambique Channel, the dangers of which 
the captain, in spite, as it is said of remonstrances 
was rash enough, although a stranger to its navi- 
gation, to encounter* 

In 1773, a black was examined before the East 
India Directors, who affirmed tlut he was one of 
five persons who had been saved from the wreck of 
the Aurora, and that she had been cast away on a 
reef of rocks off Mocoa. 

To these particulars, for whldi the public are 
chiefly indebted to the assiduous rcaeardies of the 
Atrr. James Stanier Clarke, it may be added, on 
the same authority, that Falconer was, in his per- 
son, abojit five feet seven indies in hei^t» of a 
thin, lii^tmake, hard featnred,and weather-beaten, 
of blunt and awkward manners, but cheerfiil, kind, 
and generous. He was, however, inrittifii to be 
satirical, and deli^tM In controversy : strange 
characteristics of MJoan. vho was a thorou|^ sea- 
man and a poet* 



SHIPWRECK. 



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[OW>8 nO&T.-A OAIM. - 



THE 

SHIPWRECK. 






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1&: 



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-BKZP TK ])ZSTK.BSB. ICmto I/. 



Canto II.] 9Jna9B XVOIUKSB.* STATS Ol" WATBait. 11 

Meanwhile Arlon, tnenanSng flw -watot,* 
The cordage of the leeward-gans unbraieed, 
Aal pointea crows beneath we metal placed. 
Watching the roll, their finelocks thej with 

drew, 
And firan their beds the reeling cannon threw : 
Then from the windward battlements unbound. 
Redmond's aasodates wheel'd th' artillerr roona ; ■ 
Pointed with iron fangs, their bars beguUe 
The ponderous arms across the steep defile ; 
Then hurl'd from soandin|r hinges o'er the side, 
Than4ering they plunce into the flashing tide. 

The ship, thus eased, some little respite finds, 
In this rude conflict of the seas and winds : 
Such ease Aloides felt when, clofw'd with gore, 
Th' eurenom'd mantle from his noe he tore ; 
When, stung with burning pain, he strove toe late 
To stop the swift oaner ior cruel fote. 
Yet then his heart one ray of hope procured. 
Sad harbinger of seTen-fold pai^ endured ! 
Such, and so short, the pause of wo she found I 
Cimmerian darkness shades the deep around. 
Save when th» lightnings, gleaming on the sight. 
Flash through the gluom a pale disastrous li^t. 
AboTe all ether, fraught with scenes of wo. 
With grim destruction threatens all below. 
Beneam the storm-Iash'd surges fixrious rise. 
And waTe uproll'd on wave, assail «the skies : 
With erer-floating bulwarks the/ surround 
The sUp, half-swallow'd in tiie black profound ! 
With ceaseless hazard and fiitigue oppress'd, 
IMsmay and anguish every heart posscss'd ! 
For, while with boundless inundation o'er 
The sea-beat sliip th' involving waten roar. 
Displaced beneath hr her capacious womb. 
They rage their ancient station to resume ; 
Bv secret ambushes, their force to prove, 
Tnrough many a vruding channel first they rove 
Till, gathering fuiy, like the fever'd blood, 
Through her dark veins they roy a rapid flood. 
While unrelenting thus the leaks they found. 
The pumps with ever-clanking strokes resound ; 
Around eaeh leaping valve, by toil subdued. 
The tough bull hide miut ever be renew'd : 
Their sinking hearts unusual horrors chill. 
And down their ween limbs toick dews distil t 
No ray of light their dying hope redeems ! 
Pregnant vnth some new wo each moment teems. 

.^ain the chief th' instructive draught extends. 
AnoVer the figured plain attentive bends : 
To him the motion of each orb was known, 

ghat whecds around the sun's refulgent throne : 
ut hero, alas ! his science nought avails ! 
Art droops unequal, and experience foils. 
The difierent traverses, since twilight made. 
He on the hydrographic circle laid ; 
Then the broad angle of lee- way f explored. 
As swept across the graduated chonL 
Her place discovereof by the rules of art. 
Unusual terrors shook the master's heart; 
When Palconera's nigged isle he found. 
Within her drift, witnshelves and breakers bound i 
For, if on those destructive dullows toss'd. 
The helpless bark with all her crew are lost; 
As fatal still appears, that daMero'er, 
The steep Si. George, and rocl^ (rardalor. 
With him the pUots, of thetar hopeless state. 
In mournful consultation now debate. 
Not more perplexing doubts her chieft appal. 
When some proud city verges to her foil ; 
WhUe Ruin glares around, and pale Affright 
Convenes her councils in the dead of night. 
No blazon'd trophies o'er their concave spread, ^ 
No storied pillars raised aloft their head : 
But here the Queen of Shade around them threw 
Her dragon wing, disastirous to the view ! 
Dire was the scene, with whirlwind,- haO, and 

shower; 
Black Melancholy ruled the foarfol hour ! 



While Albert thus, with secret doobtt dismay'd. 
The geometric distances survey'd. 
On deck Hhe watchful Rodmond cries aloud, 
** Secure your lives ! grasp evez^ man a shroud !" 
Roused from his trance, he mounts with eyea 
When o'er the ship, hi undulation vast, [aghast ; 
A giant surge down rushes from on hifpi. 
And fore and aft dissever'd ruins lie. 
As when Britannia's einpiro to maintain, 
Great Hawke descends in thunder on the main, 
Axound the brazen voice of battle Mars, 
And fotal lightnings blast the hostile shores : 
Beneath the storm their shatt^d navies groan. 
The trembling deeps recoil from zone to zone : 
Thus the tosn vessel felt th' enormous stroke ; 
The boats beneath the thundering deluge broke. 
Forth started from their planks the bursting riiigs, 
Th' extended cordage all asunder springs. 
The pilot's foir macninezy strews the deck. 
And cards and needles swim in floating wreck. 
The balanced mlzen, rending to the head. 
In streaming ruins from the margin fled ; 
The sides convulsive shook on groaning beams. 
And, rent with Ubour, yawn'd the pitdiy teams. 
They sound the well,* and, terrible to hear ! 
FlTe feet Immersed along the line appear. 
At eiUier pump they ply the clanking brake,t 
And turn Dy turn th' ungrateful office take. 
Rodmond, Arlon, and Palemon here. 
At t)iis sad task, all diligent appear. 
As some fair castle shook by rude alarms. 
Opposes long th' approach of hostile arms ; 
Gnm war around her plants his black array. 
And deatii and sorrow mark his horrid way ; 
Till, in some destined hour, against her wall 
In tenfold rage the fatal thunders foil : 
The ramparts cracky the solid bulwarks rend, 
And hostile troops the shatter'd breach ascend: 
Her valiant inmates still the fbe retard, 
Reaolved till death their sacred charge to guard. 

So the brave mariners their pumps attend. 
And help, incessant, by rotation lend ; 
But all in vain— for now the sounding cord, 
Updrawn, an undiminish'd depth explcured. 
Nor this seven distress is found alone ; 
The ribs oppress'd by ponderous cannon groan : 
Deep-rolling from the w&tery volume's hdght. 
The tortured sides seem bursting with tbtSt wdght. 
So reels Pelorus, with convulsive throes, 
When in lils veins the burning earthquake glows ; 
Hoane through his entrails roars th' infemafflame. 
And central thunders rend his groaning frame. 
Accumulated mischieft thus arise. 
And fote vindictive all their skill defies. 
One imly remedy the season gave ; 
To plunge the nerves (^battte in the wave : 
From their high platforms, thus th' artllleiy thrown. 
Eased of their load, the timbers less shall groan: 
But arduous is the task their lot reqnhes ; 
A task that hovering Fate alone inspires : 
For, while intent the yawning dedks to ease. 
That ever and anon are drench 'd vrlth seas. 
Some fotal billow irith recoiling sweep. 
May whirl tiie helpless wretches in the deep. 

No season this for counsel or delay 1 
Too soon th' eventful moments haste away ! 
Here perseverance, with each help of art. 
Must join the boldest efforts of the heart. 
These only now. their misery can relieve ; 
These only now a dawn of safisty give ! 
While o'er the quivering deck, from van to rear, 
Brood surges rou in terrible oureer, 
Rodmond, Arlon, and a chosen crew. 
This office in the foce of death pursue. 
The -wheel'd artillery o'er the deck to guide, 
Rodmond, descending, claim'd the weather side : 
Fearless of heart the chief his orders gave. 
Fronting the rude assaults of every wave. 
Like some strong watch-tower, nodding o'er the 

deep. 

Whose rocky base the fbaming waters sweep, 
CTntamed he stood ; the stem aerial war 
Had mork'd his honest fooe with many a scar. 



* The well is an apartment in the ship's hold, 
serving to inclose the pumps. It is soiuded by 
droppfiag a measured iron rod down into it by a 
long line. Hence the increase or diminution of 
the leaks is easily discovered. 

t The brake is the lever or handle of (he pilmp, 
by which it to wrought. *^ *^* 



Beneath, tremendous roll'd the flashing tide. 
Where Fate on eveiy billow seem'd to ride. 

* The waist of a ship of this kind is a hollow 
space about five feet in depth, between the eleva- 
tions of the quarter-deck and forecastle, and having 
the upper deck for Its base, or platfbrm. 

t The lee- way, or drift, which in this place am 
svnonymons terms, is the movement bj which a 
ship is driven sideways at the mercy or the wind 
and sea, when she is depiived of the govmuiMnt 
of the sails and helm. 



TME 

SHIPWRECK. 





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OCOA8XOVA& 



OT. 



21 



Te lost oompaaioaiB flfdittx«ii» adieu 1 

Tour toOs and pdlns and duaen an no moral 

The tempest now thall howl luuieaxd bv Ton, 
Wblle Ocean smltef in vain the txcmumc iluin. 

On yoa the blast, nuehatged vith xaln and now. 
In winter^ dlunal ni{^ts no nwve ihall beat; 

Unfidt hj jon the Tertic mm uuy f^aw, 
A nd acorch the panting earth with banefiil heat. 

No more the Jojiflil Maid, with qni^tly ttnin 
Shall wake ttie danoe'to give yoa welcome home I 



Norhopdeia Love impart undving pain, 

t of Moal 119 jon roam. 



[onstaaj. 



When fiur from 

Mo move on yon wide watery waate yoi 

While hanger and diaeaae your liw I 

While paroling tmrtt, that bimu wittioot aliay, 
FortHdf the blaatad roae of healUi to bloom. 

No more 70a feel Contagfan'a mortal bnath 
That taints tlie realms with nUaery sevoce ; 

No more behold pale Famine, scattering death. 
With cruel ravage desolate tiie year. 

The tfranderbig dram, die trompet^ swelling strata 
Unheard ahau form the long embattled line : 

Unheard,' the deep foondations of the main 
Shall tremble when the hostile sqaadxons Join. 



Since gilei; fSuigne, ana haards stUl meilcst 
The wandering vassals cf the (Uthlesadeep, 

0! happier now escaped to e n dless rest. 
Than we who still sorvive to wake and weep. 

What tttoogh BO flmeral pomp, no boRoWd tear. 
Year hour of death to gaxing crowds shall tell j 

Nor weeping friends attsnd your sable Uer, 
Who sadly listen to the pusing htlL 

The tntor'd sigh, the vain parade of wo, 

No real anguish to the soul impart ; 
And oft, alas 1 the tear that friends bestow, 

Beliaa the latent feelings of the heart. 

What Aough no sculptured pOe your name display^ 
Like those who perish in their country^ canae; 

What thoo^ no epic Muse in living lays 
Beoords your dreadful daring wi& appbnae: 

Full oft the flattering marble bids renown 
Widi blacon'd trophies deck the spotted name; 

And oft, too ofL the venal Muses crown 
The daves of vice widi never-dying feme. 

Tet diall Keme m beance from Oblivion^ veil, 
Relleveyoar scene, and si^ with grlrfiinnorf. 

And soft Compassion at your tragic tale 
In silent tribute pay her kindred tsar. 



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ADDISON, STEELE, Dr. JOHNSON, POPE, GOLDSMITH, 8W0T, 

WATTS, BACON, -dec. 

%* The Spvctator, Tatler, and Guardian, win be complete in 80 Num 
bers, at 6d. forming 2 Elegant Volumes, containing the whde of what is osoall) 
printed in 14 rolnmes. 



I 



THE 



POETICAL WORKS 



OF 



MARK AKENSIDE, M. D. 



WITH 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 



OP 



THE AUTHOR. 



LONDON : 
PUBLISHED BY JONES & COMPANY, 

S, ACTON PLACE, KING8LAND KOAD. 

1824. 



THE LIFE 



OF 



MARK AKENSIDE, M. D. 



BY 



DR. JOHNSON. 



MARK AKENSIDS wai boxn on the nindi of 
November, 17S1, at NewcasUe-upon-Tyne. His 
father, Maifc, was a batcher, of the PreebjtMian 
sect; hb mother's name was MaiyLaniMlen. He 
ractiwed. the first part of his education at the gram* 
mar^chool of Newcastle; and was afterwards in- 
•tmcted bj Bfx. Wilson, who kept apiivate academj. 

At the age of ei^teen he was sent to EdinbiOgh, 
that he might, qualify hlmtdf fin: the office of a 
dissenting minister, and receiTcd some assistance 
from the fimd which the Dis§enters empldj in 
educating young men of scanty fivtune. But a 
vider view of the world opened otiier scenes, and 
pnmqrtad other hopes: he determined to study 
pfayalc, and repaid that oontrilmtioii, which, being 
reoelTed tar a different purpose, he justly thoui^it 
it dishonourable to retain. 

Whether, when he restdvcd not to be a disMnt- 
Ing minister, he eeased to be a Dissenter, I know 
not. He certainly retained an unneoeasaiy and 
outraffeous xeal far what he called and thought 
liberty; a zeal which sometimes disguises ftom tiie 
world, and not raidy from the mind whidi it 
poeaesses, an envious desire of plundering wealth 
or degrading greatness; and of which the im 
mediate tenden^ is innoratloa and anarchy, an 
Impetuous eagerness to subvert and confbond, with 
veiy little care what shall be established. 

/^w>n«M«. was one of those poets who have fill 
very early the motions of genhis, and one of those 
students who have vcsy earfy stared their jnemories 
wltii gentiments and images. Many of his per< 
formancas were produced in Us youth; and his 
greatest work, 'The Pleasures of Imagination,' 
appeared in 1774. I have heard Dods^y, bT^luxn 
it was published, relate, that when the copy was 
oAndhlni, the price demanded. fiar.it« which was 
a hnndssd and twenty pouflds, being inch as he 
was not in^jined to give prectpitately, be carried 
Uie work to Pope, who, having looked into it. 



advised him not to make a niggardly offer; for 
** this was no eveiy-daj writer." 

In 1741 he went to L^den, in pursuit of medical 
knovrtedge; and three years afterwards (Higr 16, 
1744,) became doctor of phyrie, having, aooording 
to the custom of the Dutch Universities, publiahed 
a thesis or dinertation. The subject which he 
chose was * The Original and Growth of the Human 
Foetus ;' in which he is said to have dqiarted, with 
great judgment, from the opinioD then established, 
and to have delivered that which has been since 
confirmed and received. 

Akenside was a young man, warm with every 
notion that by nature or accident had been con- 
nected with the sound of liberty, and, by an 
eccentricity whidksudi disposltJons do not ea^ 
avoid, a lover of ccntradictlen, and no friend te 
any thing established. He adopted Shaftesbury's 
fiMdish assertion of the efficacy of ridicule fi«r the 
diseovery of truth. For dtis he was attacked bf 
Warburton and defended hj Djtaat Warbnrton 
afierwazds/eprinted his remarks at ibt end of his 
Dedication to the ' Free-thinkers.' 

The result of all the aigument^ which hava beea 
produced in a long and eagar dlaeasaloii of fliis idle 
question, m«j easily be ooUaoted. If ridicule ke 
applied to aaj poaitioa as Ow tastof tnidi, it wiM 
then become a ifoeetioo whether such ridicule be 
Just; and this can only be decided by die appUoa- 
don of truth, as the test of ridicule. Two men, 
finring,oneaaaaland fheodierafiHMladdaqgv, 
wiU be far a while equally eivosad to the inevitable 
oonsequenoes of oovaidice, centemptuons cen- 
sure, and ludiflnns wpressntation ; and the tiva 
state of both oases moat be known, befiare it oan 
be decided whose tenmr la aational, and whaae 
is ridiculous; who is to be pitted, and who te 
be despised. Both ava fw a while equally exposed 
to laughter, but both are not thereAxe equally eon« 
temptiVe. 



TBS XdCFB or 



In tilt ravinl of hlf poem, though he died befim 
hehaiflnidiedit, he omitted tiw lines which had 
giTen ocioeiien to WTe i hn r ton'i ot|)ectioDS. 



He pabUihad, Mwn after hit zetazn firam Leyden, 
(1745) hit fint eoHeetJon of Odea ; and waa Impdled 
by hit rage of patriotiam to write a very acrimo- 
nioua epiatle to Pultcner> whom he atigraaticesy 
under the name of Cuiio^ aa tlM bettajer of Ills 
conntsy. 

Being now to live by his pcoAadon, he first 
commenced physician «t Nortfaampton, where Dr. 
Standionae ,tfaen poRBotlaed, with such rcpntatioa 
and socee M ^ tiiat a stranger was not Ukdy to gain 
grooad upon him. AVrnslde tried tlie contest a 
whUe; and, hafing deafened the place with dam- 
oursferUbsKly, removed to Hempstead, where he 
resided mace than two years, and then fixed himself 
in liondan, the piroper place fiar a man of aoeom- 
plishmentaliiEehis. 

At London he was known as a poet, but was 
still to malce his way as a phyrician ; and would 
perliaps haTe been reduced to great exigencies but 
tiiat Mr. Dyson, with an ardour of fidendahip that 
has not many examples, allowed him three hun- 
dred pounds a-year: Thus supported, he aOranced 
gradually in medical reputation, but never attained 
any great extent of piaetioe, or eminence of popu- 
larity. A phyddan in a great city seems to be the 
mere plaything of ibrtnne ; his degree of repntation 
is, finrtiie^ost part, totally casual : theytliatem- 
ploy him know not his excellence; they that reject 
him know not his defidence. By any acute ob- 
server, who had looked on the transactions of the 
medical world for half a century, a Teiy curious 
book might be written on the * Fortune of Phy- 
sicians.' 

Akcntide appears not to have been wanting to 
Ms own sucoeis: he placed himself in riew by all 
the common methods; he became a FeQow of the 
Royal Sodety ; he obtained adegree at Cambridge ; 
and was admitted into the College of Fhyddans ; 
he wrote little poetry, but published, firomtimeto 
tim^ medical essays and observations; he became 
Phyddan to St. Thomas's Hospital; he read the 
Oulstonian Lectures in Anatomy; but began to 
gHe, Ibr Oe Croonlan Lecture, a history of the 
sefiTBl of learning, ftom wlddi he soon dedsted ; 
and, in oonverMtion, he -very eagerly forced himself 
hite notice by an ambitions ostentation of d^ganoe 
■ad literature. 

His Dlseonrse on the Dysentery (1764) was con- 
sIdeBed as a very cons^cuous spedmen of- Latinity, 
wtdeh endtied him to the same >tf|gtit of place 
uaoDg the sdidan, as he posseised before among 
die wits, and he might perhaps have risen to a 
r devatton of character, but tiiat his studies 
ended witii his life, by a putrid fiever, June 
fS, 1770, hi the fevty.ninth year of his age. 



A h en sid e is to be considered at a didactic and 



lyric poet. His great work is * The Pleasuxca of 
Imagination ;' a perfearmance wliich, pnblidicd aa it 
was at the age of twenty-tiizee, raised expectations 
that were not very amply satisfied. It has un- 
doubtedly a Just claim to very particular notice;, as 
an example of great iUidty of genius, and nnccan- 
mon amplitude of acquisitions ; of a young mind 
stared with images, and mudi exercised in oam> 
Untng and comparing them. 

Witii the philosophical or religious tenets of the 
author I have nothing to do; mybusineas is with 
his poetry. The suttject is well chosen, as it in- 
dndes all images that can strike or please, and that 
comprises every species of poetical delii^t. The 
only difficulty is in the chdce of examples and 
illnstratioBs; and it is not ea^ in such exuberance 
of matter to find tlie middle point between penury 
and satiety. The parts seem artificially disposed, 
with sufficient coherence, so as that tiicy cannot 
change thdr places without injury to the general 
design. 

Hisiimages are displayed with sudi luxuriance 
of expression, that they are hidden, like Butlerls 
Moon, hy a " Veil of light ;" they areferms fentas- 
tically lost under superfluity of dress. JPi- j w umi mim 
ett ipta pueUa nd. The words are snultiplied till 
the sense is hardly percdved) attrition. deserts the 
mind, and setties in the ear. The reader wanders 
through the gay diffusion, sometimes amaaed, and 
sometimes delighted, but, after many tutnings in 
the flowery labyrinth, comes, out as he went in. 
He remarked littie, and laid hdd on nothing. 

To his verdfication Justice requires that pnise 
diould not be denied. In the general fabrication 
of his lines he is perhaps superiar to any other 
writer of blank veiae ; his flow is smooth, and his 
pauses are jnudcal ; but the ooncatenatton of his 
verses- is oommanly too long continued, and tile fiill 
dose does not recur wldi sufficient frequency. The 
sense is carried on through a long intertextnre 
of complicated clauses, and as nothing is distin- 
guished, nothing is remembered. 

The exemption which blank verse affords from 
the necessity of dosing the sense with the couplet, 
betrays luxuriant and active minds into soeh sdf- 
indulgence, that they pile image upon image, oma- 
ment upon ornament, and are n«>t easily persuaded 
to dole the sense at all. Blank verse'wlll thefefinre, 
I fear, be too often found in deecriptiOD ex uberant, 
in aigummt loquadons, and in narration tiresome. 

His diction is certainly poetical, as it is not pro- 
saic, and degant, as it b not vulgar. He is to be 
commended, aa having fewer avtlfloes of diigust 
than most of his bretiuren of the blank song. Re 
rarely dther recalls dd phrases, or twists liis metre 
into harsh inTersions. The sense however of his 
words is strained; when' "he views the Ganges 
from Alpine hdg^ts ;" that is, firom^noontains like 
the Alps. And the pedaint snrdy intrudes (b«t 
when was blank verse without pedantry ?) when be 



IcOs how *'PlaaeCs abidve tlw stated ronnd of 
Time.- 

- It to generally known to the readen lof poefcry 
that he intended to xeviae and augment this work, 
but died befbce he had completed his dodgn. The 
rebrxnedwarkas heleft it, and the additions which 
he had made, an reiy properly retained in the late 
collection. He seeins to haTe somewhat contracted 
hto difiiision ; bat I know not whether he has gained 
in flHwpn w what he has lost in splendor. In the 
additional book, the* Tale of Solon 'is too long. 

One great deflect of his poem Is Tery properly 
censored by Mr. Walker, unless it may be said, in 
his defence, tliat what he has omitted was not 
properly in his plan. " His picture oCman is grand 
and beautiftil, but unfinished. The immortality 
of the soul, which Is the natural consequence of 
the appetites and powers she is intested with, is 
scazoely once hinted throughout the poem. - This 
defidenr^ is amply supplied hy the masterly pencU 
of Dr. Teong; who, like a good philosopher, has 
Invindbly proved the immortality of man, from the 
grandeur of his conceptions, and the meanness and 
misery of his state; finr this reason, afew passages 
are selected from the * Nlfl^t Thoughts,* which, 
with those from Akenside, seem to form acomplete 
view of tlie powers, rituation, and end of man."^ 
Bueretiuflr I mp r ov emen t in Shmdion, p. 66. 

His other poems are now to be considered ; but 
a short consideration will despatch them. It is not 
easy to guess why he addicted himself so diligently 
to lyric poetry, having neitlier the ease and airiness 
•f the lighter, nor the vehemence and elevi^on of 



the grander ode. When he I^ his ill-fkted hand 
upon his harp, his temer powers seem to desert 
him ; he has no longer his luxuriance of espression, 
nor variety of images. His thoofj^ts are cold, and 
Ids words Indegunt. ' Vet such was his. love of 
lyries, that, having written with great vigour and 
poignancy his * Epistle to Curio,' he transformed 
it afterwards into an Ode disgraosAil only to its 
author. 



To the preceding observatians by Dr. Johnson, 
we shall subjoin an extract from Mrs. Barbanld : 
" If die genius of Akenside is to be estimated from 
his poem," the Pleasures of Imaglnatiop, " it will 
be found to be lofty and degant; chaste, correct, 
and classical; not marked with strong traits of 
originality, not ardent or exuberant. His enthu* 
aiasm was raUier of that kind which kindled by 
reading and imbiUng the spirit of authorB^ than 
by contemplating at first hand the irarks of nature. 
Asiaversifier, Akenside js allowed to stand amongst 
those who have given the most finished models of 
blankverse* His periods are long, but haxmooioos: 
the cadences &U with grace, and the measure Is 
suppofTted widx uniform dignity. His muse pos- 
sesses the mJOT erect, and high emtmamding gaU. 
We shall scarcely find a low or trivial expression 
introduced ; a careless or unfinished line permitted 
to stand. His stateliness, however, is somewhat 
ullied to stiSneis;— his verse is sometimes feeble 
throng too rich a rednndanpy of ornament, and 
sometimes laboured into a degree of obscurity from 
too anxious a desire of avoiding natural and stanple 
expressions.'* 



X 



CONTENTS. 



LIFE or Mark Akeniide 



The Pltamm tf Imagination. 
[AsiintPuldidiad.] 



Book I. 
Book II. 
Book III. 



Tht PUatwu tf^ Imagimlion. 

[On an enlarged Flan.] 



Page 



1 

6 

10 



Pag* 



BOOKU. 



The General Argnraent 
Book I. . ' . 
Book II. . . . 
Book III. [anfiaished] 
Book IV. [a Fragment] 



Oiea on several StdffecUt 
BOOK I. 

0«lcl. Pre£Bce 

II. On the Winter Solstice . 

III. To a Friend, nnmcceHflil in Love . 

IV. Affected IndifTerenoe. Tottiesame 

V. Against Suspicion 

VI. Hymn to Cheexfiilness 

VII. On the Use of Poetry 

VIII. On leaving Holland 

IX. ToCoiio . 

X. To the Muse 

XI. On Lov»-to a Friend 

XII. To Sir Francis Henx; Drake, Bart. 

XIII. On Lyric Poetry .... 

XIV. To the Honourable Ciharles Tovns- 

hend, firom the Country 

XV. To the Eraning Star 

XVI. To Caleb Hardinge, M. D. . 

XVII. On a Sermon against Glory . 

XVIII. To the Rifl^Haooniable Francis 
Earl of HnnUngdon 



17 
ib. 
2S 
27 
31 



32 
ib. 
•& 

ib. 
34 
ib. 
35 
ib. 
86 
37 
ib. 
38 
39 



Ode I. The Bmoostxanoe of Shakspcare, 
snppeaed to have been spoken at 
the Theatre Kajal, vhile the 
Fkench Comedians veie acting 
by Snbacziption ■ . . • .44 

II. To Sleep ..*... ib. 

III. To the Cuckoo 43 

IV. To the Honourable Charles Towns- 

bend in the Coontry, . • . ib. 

V. On Love of Praise .... 47 

VI. To William HaU, £(qaixe» with the 

Works of Chanlleu • . ib. 

VU. To the Rij^t Reverend B enj a m i n 

Lord Bishop ofWlncbester . >b. 

VIII *** 

IX. At Study i . . . . Ib. 

X. To Thomas Edwards, Eiguir^ on the 

lateXdition of Mr. Pope^ Works ib 
XI.TotheCoantxyGendemenofEngiand 49 

XII. On recovering finom a Fit of Sick- 

ness, in the Country . . . &3 

XIII. To the Andior of MemoirB of the 

Honse of Brandenburgh • SI 

XIV. The Complaint . « . . Ib. 

XV. On Domestic Manners. [Unfinished] ib. 
Hymn to Uie Kalads ,65 

itueripttau. 



ib. 
40 
b. 
41 

il> 



I. For a Grotto 

II. For a Statue of Chaooer at Woodstock 

III 

IV. 



VI. For a Column at Ronnymede 

VII. The Wood Nymph . . 

vin 

DL 

Th> Virtuoso . ... 



ih. 

ib. 

ib. 

56 

ih. 

ih. 

lb. 

lb 

57 



THE 
PLEASURES 



IMAGINATION. 








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PLEASURES 



IMAGINATIOK. 



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PLEASURES 



IMAGINATION. 



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THB 



PLEASURES 



OF TBE 



IMAGINATION- 



9 ^otm. 



BX 



/ 



THB 

GENERAL ARGUMENT. 



THE iriMSoret of the ivaginstiaD pnoeed either tma natnial ol^ectM, as finom a flouziahhig grove* • 
clear and monniiring fiMintain, a calm tea by moon-U^t ; or firom vorks of art, mch as a noUe 
edifice, a musical tone, a statne, a pictoxe, a poem. In treating of then pleasnrea, we must begin 
with the former class ; they being origLoal to the other ; and nothing more being neoenaiy in order to 
explain them, than a view of oar natural inclination towaxd greatness and beauty, and of those 
appearances, in the world aroond vm, to which that Inclination is adapted. This is die snl^Ject of 
the first book of the following poem. 

But tfie pleasures which we receive from the elegant arts, fkom music, sculpture, painting, and poetry* 
are much more various and complicated. In them (besides greatness and beauty, or fimns proper 
to the imagination) we find interwoven frequent r e pre s entations of truth, of virtue and vioa^of 
drctmistanoes proper to move us with laughter, or to excite in ns pity, fiear, and the other passions. 
These moral and intellectnal objects are described In the second bookt to whidi the third propcrlj 
belopgs as an episode, thon^ too large to have beffn i n c l ud e d in lU 

With the above-mentioned Janieaof pleesne, which are universal in flw ooozse of human life, and 
•PTMlain to oar U||fa«r fhevlttM, maa; oCtaen do gwMnlly oonenr, mace limited ill tiieir opcntion, 
or of an inferior origin: such'are tlie novelty of objects, the association of ideas, afifections of the bodily 
senses, influences of education, national habits and the like. To illnstrste these, and from the whole 
to determine the character of a perfiset taste, is the axgoment of the fourth book. 

Hitherto the pleasures of the Imagination bdong to the hiwiaaqieeies in general. But tiiere are ocvtiiB 
particular men whose imagination is endowed with powers, and susceptible of pleasures, which the 
generality of mankind never participate. These are the men of genius, destined by nature to excel 
in one or other of the arts already mentioned. ' It is proposed therefore, in the last place, to delineate 
that genius which in some degree appears common to them all ; yet with a more r**'"'^'* consider- 
ation of poetry ; inasmuch as poetry is the most extensive of those arts, the most phllosophica] and 
the most useful. 



PLEASURES 



IMAGINATION. 



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PLEASURES 



IMAGINATION. 



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PLEASURES 



IMAGINATION.. 



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Tin M^Thj —T fcm in hBoJI a* MO 






IbdlbujiiHnwHIi a^M>S£^ IT 

•Tammtjirae rnaamj miDttliOm 

A lUA Hid KiVlftiBiiiiui if Hub Aaat 

Wiiiai to Oh ««Tnil Guudj of bmv 

Tnu UDi limuvl.'lwi cfold V^>I|>'A 



PLEASURES 



IMAGINATION. 



Tlwt Kodlb -h^h I I '1 iH In th> d&vi 
Orm» H^ HIV ib« otov ornj mind 

TTwywmwwSSlwipgrtnt, For Thai 



ODES. 



BOOK I. 



ODE I. 



PREFACE. 



I. 

ON yoBdcr vwdant hillock taid, 
Whatc oaks and elaiik • ftlendty rtMd«» 

0>erioflk Uie aUtag •ttwm, 
O maat«r«rtlie Latta lYR 
Awhile with thw-wU I latin 

Fiom cuxnoMr^ noontfdc baam. 

II. 

And, lo. within nj lonely hoiwir, 

The Inonttrioaa bca fk«n many a flowtr 

^Ck>lleeta her Imtany daws : 
" For me," she dnga> * the gania awbom* 
For me dieir rilken nbe adorn. 

Their fragtaut iHMdi dlfiiaa." 

III. 

Sweet nPimniMfr ! nun no mdt Morm 
This hospitable scene ocftnu/ 

Nor cbce^ tfaj sladsome tolls ; 
Still maj the buds niiBuUledapciag, 
Still ahoiwersand smshtne ooarttfaj wng 

To thaaa ambrosial spoils. 

IV. 

Nor khall my Mnse heteafter fldl 
Her fello#-IabonrcT thee to hall ; 

And liurfcy be t he stra ins ! 
For long a|^ did nature fhtme 
Yoor seasons and jour arts the tame, 

Your, pleasures and your pains. 

V. 

Like thae, in lowly, Olvaa soenes. 
On rlTer-banks and floweij oreens 

My Muse deligfatedplays 
Nor tbioush ttw desart of the air 
Though swans or eagles triumph thane. 

With find amb&tioa strays. 




Nor where the 1 

Nor near the owl's onhalloWd hannts 

Will sh« her cares cmiday ; 
Bat flies from ruim and flmm tombs. 
From soperstitton's honrld glootns. 

To day-U^t and to joy. 

VII. 
Norimi dw tempt the barren waste ! 
Nor deigns the Inildng strength to taste 

Of any noxious ttit>g ; 
But leaves with scorn to enyyli use 
The Insipid nightshade's banefiil Juioe, 

The netde's sordid sting. 

vni. 

From all whicb aatups ftirestknows. 
The vernal blooms, the summ£r rose* 

She dsaws her blameless wealtb ; 
And, whan the generous task Is done. 
She c c nswTr ate s a double boon. 

To pleasure and tohMltfa.. 



ODE II. 



Ok the Winter Sdttiet. 1740. 



THE radisnt ruler of the war 
At lengtii his winteiy goal attains ; 
Soon to rererse the long career. 
And northward bend Us steady reins. 
Now piercing half Potosia's height. 
Prone rush the fieiy floods of light 
Ripening the mountain's sliver stares 
Wnile, in some cavern's homd shade. 
The panting Indian hides his head. 
And flA Out approach of eve implores. 

IL 

But lo, on this deserted coast 

How pal« Che sun ! how thick the air < 

Muttering his storms, a sordid host, 

Lo, winter desolates the year. 

The fidds resign their latest bloom ; 

No diove the breezes wafl perfume, 

No moce the streams in music roll : 

But snows &I1 dark, or rains resound ; 

And, irhile great nature mourns around, 

Her gtlea mstct the human soul. 

III. 

Hence the loud city's busy thnngs 
Urge the wajrm bowl and splendid fire : 
Harmonious dances, fbstive songs. 
Against the spitefhl heaven consnlre. 
Meantime perhaps with tender tears 
Some vfflage-dame the curfew bears. 
While round the hearth her children play 
At mom their fkther went abroad : 
The moon is sunk and deep the road; 
She si^M, and wanders at nis stay. 

IV. 

But thou, my lyxe, awake, axis*. 
And hail the sun's retnming force : 
Even now he climbs the northern skies. 
And health and hope attend his course. 
Then louder howl ttie aczial waste. 
Be earth with keener cold embraced. 
Yet gentle hours advance their wing ; 
And fiuicy, mocking winter's might, 
Widi flowers and dews and streaming light 
Ahready decks the new-b^m quring. 

V. 

O fbuntabi of the golden day. 
Could mortal vows promote thy speed. 
How soon befisB Oxj vernal ray 
Should each unkindly damp recede ! 
How soon each hovering tempest fly. 
Whose stores for mischuf arm the sky, 
^mnpt on our heads to burst amajn. 
To rend the forest firom the steep. 
Or, thundering o'er the Baltic dew. 
To whelm the meichaiU's hopes of gain i 

VI. 

But let not man's tmequal views 
Presume o'er natuce and her laws : 
'TU his with grateAil J9y to use 
The fMv^gr'*^ cttb» sovran caocei 



jBook J.] 

Secure that health and beauty ■piings 
Tiliroush this m^estic frame of this^. 
Beyond what he can reach to know ; 
And that heaven's aU-subdoing will. 
With good the progeny of ill, 
Attempexeth every state below. 

VII. 

How pleasing wears the wintery night. 
Spent with the old, illustrioas dead ! 
While, by the taper's trembling light, 
I-seem those awtul scenes to txeaa 
Where chie& or legislators lie, 
WluMe tziumphs move befbare my eye 
In arms and antique pomp array'd ; 
While now I taste the Ionian song. 
Now bend to Plato's godlike tongue 
Resounding Uiroug^ the dive shade. 

VIII. 

But should some cheexftil, equal friend 
Bid leave the studious page awhile, 
I«t mirth on wisdom tnen attend. 
And social ease on learned toil. 
Then while, at love's uncareful shrine. 
Each dictates to the sod of wine 
Her name whom all his hopes obey. 
What flattering dreams each bosom warm. 
While absence, heightening eveiy charm. 
Invokes the slow-returning May f 

IX. 

May, thou delight of heaven and earth. 

When will thy genial star arise ? 

The anspicious mont, which gives thee birth. 

Shall bring Eudora to my eyes. 

Within her sylvan haunt benold. 

As in the happy sarden old, 

She moves lilce that primeval &ir : 

Thither, ye sUver-soimding lyres. 

Ye tender smiles, ye chaste diesires. 

Fond hope and mutual £uth, repair. 

X. 

And if believing love can read 
His better omens in her eye, 
Then shall my fiears. O charming maid. 
And everv pam of absence die: 
Then shall my jocund harp, attuned 
To thy true ear, with sweeter sound 
Pursue the free Horatian song : 
Old Tyne shall listen to my tale, 
And echo, down the bordering vale. 
The liquid melody prolong. 



ODE III. 

To a Friend vnaueeeuful in Ltne. 

I. 

/NDEED, my Phttdria, if to find 
That wealth can female wishes gain. 
Had e'er dlsturb'd your thonghtfiil mind. 
Or cost oneserious moment's pain, 
I should have said that all the rules, 
\aa leam'd of moralists and schools. 
Were very useless, very va^. 

II. 
Yet I perhaps mistake the case- 
Say, though with this heroic air. 
Like one that holds a nobler chase 
You try the tender loss to bear. 
Does not your heart renounce your tongue ? 
Seems not my censure strangely wronc. 
To count it such a slight affair? 

III. 
When Hesper gilds the shaded sky, 
^ as yon seek the well-known grove, 
Methinks I see you cast your eye 
Back to the morning scenes of love : 
Each pleasing word you heard her say. 
Her gentle look, her graceful way, 
Agam your struggling fimcy move. 



33 



IV. 



n>en tell me, is your soul entire ? 

J)oe8 wisdom calmly hold her throne ? 

Tl»n can you question each desire. 

Bid this remain, and that begone ? 

S^ S^^^it*^* fromTSur eye ? 
No UndUng blush you know not why ? 

No stealing sigh, nor stifled groan ? 

V. 

Away with this nnnumly mood ; 
See where the hoary churl appears. 
Whose hand hath seized the fevouilte good 

wfc?? ?S* ^?*^«* ^^ ^VS^ years : 
While, ddebv side, the blusEng maid 
bhrmks ftxMn his visage, half-i^nid. 
Spite of the sickly j^she wears. 

VI. 

Ye guardian powers of love and fSune, 
This chaste, harmonious pair behold : 
AAd thus reward the generous flame 
Of all who barter vows tm gold. 
p bloom of youth, O tender charms 
Well-buried in a dotard'k arms ! 
O equal price of beauty sold ! 

VII. 

Cease then to gaze with looks of love : 

Bid her adieu, the venal fair : 

Unworthy she your bliss to prove ; 

Then wherefore should she prove your care ? 

No : lay your myrtle garland down ; 

^nd let awhile the wfllow's croim 

With luckier omens bind your hair. 

VIII. 

Ojust escaped the fidthless main. 
Though driven unwilling m the land ; 
To guide your fkvour'd steps again, 
B^old your better genius stand : 
Where truth revolves her page divine. 
Where virtue leads to honour's dirine. 
Behold, he lifts his awful hand. 

IX 

Fix but on these your ruling aim 
And time, the tire of manly care. 
Will fimcy's dazzling colours tame 
A soberer dress will beauty wear : 
Then shaU esteem l^ knowledge led 
Enthrone within your heart and head 
Some happier love, some tamer &ir. 



O D E IV. 

Aff'»!Ml Ind{ffknnee. 

To the same. 

I. 

^S : yon coMemn the perjured maid 
Who all your favourite hopes betray'd : 
Nor, though her heart should home rettim. 
Her timeful tongue its fiilschood mourn. 
Her winning eyes your faith implore. 
Would you her hand receive again. 
Or once dissemble your disdain. 
Or listen to the siren's theme. 
Or stoop to love : since now esteem 
And confidenoe, and friendship, is no more 

II. 
Yet tell me, Phaedria, teU me why. 
When summoning your pride you try 
To meet her looks with cool neglect. 
Or cross her walk with slight respect. 
(For so U fislsehood best leraid) 
Whence do your cheeks indignant glow 3 
Why is your stmgglixtf tongue so slow ?" 
What means that darlmess on your brow 
As if with aU her broken vow ' 
\ oa meant the &ir apostate to upbraid ? 



Te too, the dov-cyad fiithcn, of Oic land 
With wlM)mdoiBiiiianMaabn«B hand to band 
Unown'd, uadigniliwl bj pablic dMioe, 
I BO where libntr to all 1* known, 
Andtelb a monaxcn on his thrma. 
He reigns not bat 1^ her prnMrring voifie. 

ILL 

O mr lored Enfcland, when with thee 
Shau I Mt down, to part no more ? 
Far from this pale, disookndd sea. 
That sleeps upon Uie reedj shoie. 
When shall 1 plooi^ thj asnxe tide ? 
When on thy nills the docks admtac. 
Like mountain snows; till down thor ride 
I trace tfie village and the sacred spire, [vide ? 
While bowers and copses green the golden slqpe di- 

ILS. 

Ye njrmphs who guard the pathlca grow. 
Ye bloe-cjed sisters of the streams. 
With whom I wont at mom to rove, 
WUh whom at noon I talk'd fak dreams; 
O! take me to your haunts again. 
Tbe rod? spring, the greenwood i^ade ; 
To guide my lonely fiwtiteps deign. 
To prompt my slumbers in the murmuriqg shade, 
A nd soothe my vacant ear witti maqy an airy strain. 



[Book I, 

\ How hit then stain'd the snleadoroCmycl»ice 
Those godlike fimas whiok honx'd rooi^ tbf 

▼oice. 
Laws, freedom, glory, whither are they flown? 
What can I now of tljee to time report 
8aTe thy fi»d country made thy impious sport. 
Her fiortttne and her hope the victims of thy own ? 

II. 

There are with eyes unmoved and recUeas heart 
Who saw thee from thy summit fall thus low. 
Who deem'd thy arm extended but to dart 
The public vengeance on thy private fiie. 
But, spite of erery gloss of envious minds. 
The owl-eyed race whom virtue's lustre blinds, 
"Who sagely prove that each man hath his pcice 
I still bdleved diy aim fitun blemish free, 
I ye^ even yet, believe it, spite of thee 
Ana all thy painted pleas to greatness and to vice. 

III. 

" Thou didst not dream of liberty dec^y^. 
Nor wish to make her guardian laws mote 

strong: 
But the rash many, first bj thee misled. 
Bore thee at length nnwillingiy aloitt-.** 
Rise from TOUT sad abodes, ye cursed of old 



11. 3. 



'uiomna 



And thou, my fidthfnl harp, no Iflnger mc 
Thy drooping master's inauspldoashand . 
Now brighter sUes and fresher gales return. 
Now frirer maids thy melody denumd. 
Dans^ters of Albion, listen to my lyre ! 

Pncebos, guardian of the Aonian choir. 
Why sounds not mine harmonioas as thy own. 
When all the vtein deities above 

With Venus and with Juno move 
In concert round the O^mpian fedier'S throne ? 

in. 1. 

Thee too» protestress of my lays. 
Elate with whose majestic call 
Atiove degenerate Latium'spraise, 
Above the slavish boast of Grtiul, 

1 dare from Impious thrones reclaim. 
And wanton sloth's ign<it>le duunms, 
The honours <tf a poet's name 

To Somers' counsels, or to Hambden'k arms. 
Thee, freedom, I njoin, and bless thy genuine 
flame. 

IILt. 

Great citizen of Albion! Thee 
Heroic valour«till attends. 
And useful science pleased to see 
How art her studious toll extQids. 
While truth, diffusing from on high 
A lustre unoonfined as day. 
Fills and commands the public eycf 
Till, pierced and sinking by her powcrfrd ray, 
TameiSlth and monkish awe, like eiifiaij derooos, 
fly. 

111.5. 

Hence the whole land the patriot's ardour 

shares; 
Hence dread religion dwells with social joy ; 
And holy passions and unsullied cares. 
In Touth, In age, domestic lift employ. 
() fiiir BritannLa, haO !— With partial love 
The tribes of men their native seats approve. 
Unjust and hostile. to each Ibreign &me : 
But when finr^enerans minds and manly laws 
A nation holds her prime appUmse, 
rhere pablic leal dull all reproof disclaim. 



ODE IX. 

Te Cmno. 1744. 

. L 

THRICE hath the spring bdield thy frded frme 
Since I exulting graqt'dthe tunefU shell : 
Eager ^rough endless yean to sound thy name, 
Proud that nty memory with thine shouU dwell. 



For frith disserted or te cities sold, 

smpleddeed; 
One mystery <^ shame frtan Cuno leoin. 



Own here one untried, nnezai 



To beg the infrmy he did not earn. 
And acape in guilf s disguise from virtue's odier'd 
meed. 

IV. 

For saw we not that dangenms power avow'd 
Whom freedran oft hath found her mortal bane. 
Whom public wisdom ever strove to exclude. 
And bat with blushes su£&reth In her train? 
Corruption vaunted her bewitching spoils. 
O'er court, o'er senate, spread in pomp her toils. 
And caird herself the state's directing soul : 
TUl Curiot like a good magician, tried 
With eloquence and reason at his tide, 
Bj strength of holier spells the enchantress to 
control. 

V 

J 

Soon with thy country's hope thy frme extends : 
The rescued merchant oft my words resounds ; 
Thee and ttiy cause the rural hearth defends : 
His bowl to ttwe the grateful sailor crowns; 
The Icam'd recluse, with awftil zeal who rend 
Of Grecian heroes, Roman patriots dead. 
Now with like awe doth living merit scan : 
While he, whom virtue in his bless'd retreat 
Bade social ease and public passions meet. 
Ascends the civil scene, and knows to be a man. 

VL 

At length in view the glorious end appear^; 
We saw thy spiri* through the senate reign ; 
And freedom's friends thy instant omat hratd 
Of laws for which their frthets bled in vain. 
Waked in the strife the public Genius rase 
More keen, more ardent from his long repose : 
Deep through her bounds the city MtUs call : 
EkL crowded haunt was stirr'd hf»tM^ath his 

power. 
And murmuring challenged the deciding hour 
Of that too vast event, the b<^>e and dread of alL 

VIL 

O ye good powers who look on human kind. 
Instruct the mighty momenta as they roll ; 
And watch the fleeting diapes in Curio's mind. 
And steer his passions steadr to the goal. 
O AUkcd, frther of the Bngudi name, 
O valiant Edward, first in civil frme, 
O William, height-of public virtue pure. 
Bend tnm your radiant seats a joyful cm. 
Behold the sum of all your labours nign. 
Your plans of law complete, your ends of rule 
secure. 

VIII. 

Twas Oen— O duunel O ioal from Wtfa es- 



O Albion oft to flattering vows a prey I 

■Twas then— Thy thoo^t what sadden frenzy 

changed? 
What rushing palsy took thy itmgdi away? 



Book /.] 

Is this the num ia ftcadoml came ■pprarad ? 
The man so gnat, so hononx'd, so bMoved ? 
Whom the dead «n-vlcd, and the living bles^d ? 
This patient slave by tinsel bodads alliucd ? 
This wretched suitor finr a boon abjured ? 
Whom those that feai'd him, soogcn* that tnvled 
him, detest? 

IX. 

O lost alika to action and lepose t 
With all that habit of Eunlliar &me, 
Sold to the mockery of relentless fiies. 
And doom'd to exhaost the dregs of Ufa In shame. 
To act with burning brow and throbbing hesot 
A poor deserter's dml exploded part. 
To slight the fiSTour thou canst nope no mere. 
Renounce the giddr crowd, the Tulgar wind, 
Chnge thy own lightness on thy country's nJnd, 
And frwn her Toice appeal to e»ch tame fiiKign 
dum. 



Bat Bnghnd's sons, to pordiase thence applause. 
Shall ne'er the Ic^saty of slaves ptetend, 
JEhr courtly passions t^ the public cause; 
Nor to the forms of rule betray the end. 
O race erect ! by manliest passions mofved. 
The labours which to virtue stand app roved. 
Prompt with a lover's fondness to survey ; 
Yet, where injustice works her wilful claim. 
Fierce as the night of -Jove's destroying flame. 
Impatient to oonfirant, and dreadful to repaj. 

XI. 

llieee thy heart owns no longer. In their room 
See the grave queen of pageants, Honour, dwell, 
CoBch'din thy bosom's deep tempestuous gloom 
Like some griin idol in a soroerei*s cell. 
Befiate her rites thv sickening vsason flew, 
. Divine persuasion from thy tongue withdrew. 
While laughter mbok'd, or pity stole a sigh ; 
Can wit her tender movements ri^tly inme 
Where the prime Amctlon of the sonlis lame ? 
Can ihnqr^ ftcUe springs the face of tntth snppfy ? 

XIL 

Bat come: tistlme: strong dcttfnytanpcnds 
To shot thee firom the joys thou hast bsinn'd : 
With nrlnees fill'd, the solemn fime asc e n m , 
Bv Innmy, the mindAil danon, sway'd. 
Iiiere vengeful vows fixr guardian laws effaced, 
Fnm nations fetter'd, and from towns bdd waste. 
For ever through the spadons courts rsaonnd : 
There long posterity's united groan • 

And the sad charge of horrors not their own. 
Assail the giant chien, and press them to the ground. 

XIU. 

In sight old Time, imperious judge, awaits : 
Above revenge, or ftar. or pity, just. 
He uneth onward to those gim^ gates 
The Grireat, the Sage, the Happy, and Angost. 
And still he asks tfiem of the nldden plan 
Whence every treaty, every war began. 
Evolves their secrets and their guilt proclaims t 
And still his hands despoil them on the road 
Of each vain wreath bv lying bards bestow'd. 
And crash their trophies huge, and rasa their 
scnlptursQ nwi ?i itti 

JOV. 

Ye mkAity shades, arise, give place, attend; 

Here his eternal mansion Curio seds: 

'mJUorw doth proud Wentworth to the stnmger 

jf bend, 
'And his dire welooiae hardy Cllflbrd speaks; 
'* He comes, whom fitte with snaer arts prepared 
To aooomplish all which we but vainly dared ; 
Whom o'er the stubborn herd she taumt to rdfli : 
Who soothed with gaudy dreams their ra^ng 
Even to its last irrevocable hour} [power 

Them baffled their rude streqgth, aadteoksdicm 
to thi f chain.** 

XV. 

Bat ye^ whom yet wise libertf hw^TM, 

Whom- te her champiaiis o^er the vorid dw 

dedms, 
(That boaashotd godhead whom of old your shes 
SofPgihtintheweodiefWbeMid hereto Thames) 



Dils« ye fills hostile oiMB flnr away I 
Their own frll effl>rts on her fees repay; 
Tour wealA, your arts, your Ikme^ M&ots dCM- 
Still gird your swords to combat on her sktei 
Still frame your laws her generous tests to abide | 
And win to her defence the altar and the throne* 

XVI. 

Protect her fttm yourselves, ere yet tiie flood 
Of golden luxury, which commerce poun. 
Hath spread that selfish fierceness uurong^ yoof 

blood. 
Which not her li|^test discipline endures : 
Snateh from fimtastic demagogues her caase t 
Dream not of Numa's manners, Plato's laws: 
A wiser founder, and a nobler plan, 
O sons of Alfired, were for you asslgn'd : 
Bring to that birthright but an tqaal mind. 
And no subiimer lot wfll &te reserve finr man. 



ODE X. 



T0 th« Mtue, 



I. 

QUEEN of my songs, harmonloos maid. 
Ah wl7 hast thou withdrawn thy aid ? 
Ah why fbrsaken thus my breast 
With inauspicious damps oppiess'd ? 
Where is the dread prophetic heat. 
With which my bosom wont to beat ? 
Where all the Sright, mysterious dreams 
Of haunted groves and tuneftal streams. 
That woo'd my genius to divinest themes f 

n. 

Say, goddess, con the fiestal board, 
Ot young Olymida's farm adored ; 
Say, can the pomp of promised nme 
Hdnme thy faint, thy dying flame ? 
Or have melodious anrs the power 
To give one free, poetic hoar ? 
Or, from amid me Elysian train. 
The soul of Milton shall I gain, 
To win thee back with some celestial strain 7 

ni. 

powerful strain 1 OsaoMsoull 
His numbers every sense control : 
And now again my bosom boms; ■ 
The Muse, the Muse becsdf retnns. 
Such on the bonks of l^ne, cosiftsB'd^ 

1 hail'd the fisir, immortal guest, 
When first shesaal'd me far her own. 
Made aU her blissfal treasores known. 

And bade me swear to fallow Asr akna. 



ODE XI. 



On£oe»>te aPrtmd. 



I. 

NO, ftollsh yoaOi— To virtuous &ma 
If now thy early hopes be vow'd, 

Iftroaambition'snoUei^nBe 

Command thy faotsteps inm ttie crowd, 
Leon not to love's enchanting snare } 
His sono, his words, his looks bewars^ 
Nor Join ms votaries^ toe yoang and^fidr. 



T%s 



II. 

' thouf^t, hj dangers, and by toUi^ 
. tie wreath or lust icnown Is worn; 
Nor will ambition's awftal spoils 
The flowery pomp of ease adorn : 
Bat love unbends the faroe of ttonght 
By love unnumly fiears are tau^t ; 
Aaa love's mwavd with gaii4j dioth ii heaghfe 



m. 

Yet thou hut K«d ia tnnefiu Ujty 
And hMSil from many a zealous bnat^ 
The piMiiiic tale of beauty's praise 
In wudom'slofty language drass'd 
Of 1>e«nty poirernil to impart 
Bach finer sense, each comelier art, 
And lepthe and polish nun's ungentle heart. 

IV. 

If then, from lore's deceit secure. 
Thus far alone thy wiikbcs tend, 
tio; see the white- wing'd evening honr 
On Delia's Temal vaU descend : 
Go, while the (QBldem ligbt serene. 
The grove, the lawn, the soAen'd scene 
i the p wi e no a of the rtund queen. 



Attend, while that harmonious tongue 
Each bosom, each deifare commanu : 
Apollo's lute by Hermes strung 
And tottch'd by chaste Minerva's hands. 
Attend. I ftel a force divine, 

Delia, win ray thoughts to thine ; 
That half the colour of &y lift is mine. 

VI. 

Yet conscious of the dangerous charm. 
Soon would I turn my steps away ; 
Nor oft provoke the lovely harm,, 
Nor lull my reason's watcfafltl sway. 
But thou, my friend— I hear thy sig^ : 
Alas, I read thy downcast eyes s 
And thy tongue nlten; and thy colour flica. 

VII. 

So soon again to meet the fkir ? 
80 p«ul«a all this ^sent honr ? 
— O yet, unlucky youth, beware. 
While yet to think is in thy power. 
In vain with friendship's flattetiag name 
Thy pastfan veils its inward shame, 
Friendahip* the treachaK>us fuel cf thy flame 

VIII. 

Onoe,l mncnher, new to love. 
And dreading his tyrannic chain, 

1 sought a gentle tnaid to prove 
What peaceful joys In fiiendship reign: 
MThence we forsooth might safoly stand. 
And piling view the lovesick band; 

And mock the winged boy's malidous hand. 

IX. 
Thus fre^aaMpaaa^d the cloudless day. 
To smiles am) sweet discourse redgn'd ; 
White I omMed to survey 
One genenma woman's real mind : 
Till mendahlp soon my languid breast 
Each night with unknown cares poaaea^d* 
Dash'd my cor slnmhenk or aqr dreams diatresM. 

X. 

Fool that I was— And now, even now. 
While thus I preach ttie Stoic strain. 
Unless I shun Oiympia'k view. 
An hour unswrk it all again. 
O friend !— when love directs her eyes 
To pierce «h«^ eveij passion, lies. 
Where is the firm, tlie cautions, or the wise ? 



m 

Ta Sir Mrawfi» Jgswy.Owfa» Borowtf, 



BEHOLD; the Balance ia Ae sky 
Swift on am wints0scal« inclines 
To earthv caves the Dmds fly, 
And th*>aie pastuipea Pan resigm. 
Late did the faiDMs's fork o'enfvead 
With recent soil tha twieo-niova meod. 



IJBookJi, 

Twimtkag-ltim Uoom whioh Antoaan 
He vhati thfl mscgr ooaltar 
He bbida hii oani t»th« pk 
And wid* hia future harvest 

II. 

Now, London's busy confines ronnd. 
By Kensington's imperial towers. 
Prom Hig^te's roiudi descent proCbiiiwl, 
Essezian neiAi*, or Kentidi bowery. 
Where'er I pass, I see approadi 
Some rural statesman's eagor coach 
Hteried by senatorial cares : 
While rural nymphs (alike, wiOiia, 
Aspiring courtly praise to wini 
Debate Uieir dress, reficm ttialr «irs. 

III. 

Sav, what can now the ceuntn boast, 

Drake, thy footsteps to detam. 
When peevMh winds and ^oomy frost 
The sunshine of the temper staia? 
Say, are the priests of Devon grown 
Friends to tiois tolerating throne. 
Champions for Geoi|^^Bleg«il riffht ? 
Have general fiKedoio. equal law, 
Wbn to the^ory of Nassau 
Each bcdd Weaaexiau sqniia and knight? 

IV. 

1 doobt it nmA ; and guess at least 
That when the day, irluch made us free. 
Shall next return, uat sacred feast 
Thea better nu0'«t obssarve wiib nie« 
WMk me tile snlpharoos traaaea old 
A tar iafnciar part shall hold 
In that glad dn'a triampiMl strain ; 
And genennis WiUiajn. be revend. 
Nor one uatineb acceiM heani 
Of James oc his ignftUe saiga. 

V. 

Then, wliUe tlte-OaaeaiM ftngrsntwiae 
With modest cups our joy supplies. 
We'll truly thank the power divine 
Who bMle the ifaio^ the paadot risee 
Rise from heraie ease (tits spoil 
Doe, for Ida youtlKt HercuMui toil. 
From Bdainm to her savloar sou) 
BJaewiAtliesaanenao u uuuei'aasal 
Pee ear Biitamiiate injurea weal, 
Her iasra rlriaBsi, liar siudaea overthrown. 

• VI. 

Re came. The tyrant from our shore. 
Like a forbidden d^mon^ fled; 
And to eternal exile bore. 
Fontfflc rage and vassal dread. 
There sunk the i nonld ertn y 'Go thic reign : 
New vears came forth, a Ufieral train, 
' CalPa-by the people great dearee. 
That day, my friend, letMessfaigs crown 
—Pill, to the demigod's re n ow n 
Vtmn whom thon hast that ttum artfrce. 

Then, Drake, (fin w h sae toa d^pnld we part 
The public and the private weal ?) 
In vows to her who-sways thy heart. 
Fair haaltlW^adfarUuM, wU we deaL 
Whether Ayala'a bloomfi^ diaek*. 
Ok the soft ornaments that iPaak 
So eloquent in Daphne's smUe, 
Whether the pieocing UghU that fly 
From the dux heaven m SCyrto's ejti 
H^Iy thj fiS^ then baguUe. 

vm. 

For so it is :-4liy -stubborn bveaaf^ 
Vhooi^ touch'd liy aaaoy a sHAiter 
Hath no full conquest yet oenMS'd) 
Nor the one fotal channer found. 
While I, a true andioyal swain,. 
My iUr Obnipta'agsiitla Nign 
Thami^ all Wf rani^g saasoais ewx 
Her genius still my bosom warns : 
No fljtnar laaid Itai ma bodk obann^ 
On I haiwivfftin h«r aloMb 



Book!.] 



ODE XIII. 

On Xyric Poetry 

I. 1. 

ONCE more I join ihe Thespian choir, 
And taste the inspiring fount again ; 

parent of the Grecian lyre. 
Admit me to tbj powcfrfu saiiiv— 
And lo, «Jth ease my ttep Invades 
Tlie imtbtess vale and opetOxtg shades, 
Till now I spy her Terdaut teat ; 

, And now Bt la^ I drink the sound. 
AVhile these hertnftpilag, llstenix^votmd, 
By turns her melodj repeat. 

• I. t. 

1 see Anacxcon smile and siiiE, 
His fllrec ttesaes breathe permme ; 
His cheek din>lay» a second spiiiHS 
Of roses taught by -wine to blocpa. 
Away, deceitful cares, away. 
And let me listen teliis lay ; 

Let me the wanton pomp e^wr» 
While in smooth dmroetm ^^t*tktngV Rours 
I^ad round his lyre its patron powers. 
Kind lau^ter and conrivial joiy. 

I. 3. 

Broke from the fetters of his native land. 
Devoting shame and vengeance to her lords, 
With louder impulse and a tfareatcniog hand 
The * Lta&tta patriot smites tbeiMmnUxig cfaords : 
Ye wretches, ye perfldiooa train, 
Ve cuned of gods and fteelxmi men. 

Ye nrarderers of the laws. 
Though now ye j^oiy biydttlrliut. 
Though now ;fettcad the fWbie neck tti'Oust, 
Yet Time and righteous Jove will judge your dread- 
ful cause. 

II. £. 

But lo, to Sappho's melting airs 
Descends the radiant queeu of love : 
She smiled, and asks vmat fonder carca 
Her suppliant's plaintive measures move : 
Why is my faithful maid distress'd ? 
Who, Sappho, wounds thy tender breast ? 
49ay, flies ne?— Soon he diall putsue^ 
Shuns he thy^ifts— He soon shall give : 
Slights he thy sorrows ?— He shall .grieve. 
And soon to all thy wiAes bow. 

.11. «. 

But, O Melpomen^ f^r whom 
Awakes thy golden shdl again ? < 
What mortal breath shall e'er jp r e sume 
To echo that imbonnded strain ? 
Majestic in the frown of years. 
Behold, the • man of Thebes appean: 
For some there are, whose migbty firame 
The hand of .f ove at Idrth 'enSoW'd 
With hopes that mock the gazing crowd ; 
As eagles drink the noon-tide flame, 

U. 3. 

While the dim raven beats her weaty whigi. 
And clamours far.below.-..Propitious Muse, 
While I so late unlock thy purer springs. 
And breathe whate'er thy ancient airs InAue, 
Wilt thou for Albion's sons around 
(Ne'er hadst thou audience more renown'd) 

Thy charming arts employ. 
As when the winds from shore to shore 
Thro' Greece thy lyaw's persnakhre language bore. 
Till towiu and isles and seas retum'd the vocal Joy ? 

in. 1. 

Yet then did pleasure's lawless throng. 
Oft rushing forth in loose attire, 
ThT vifgin dano& thy gracefiilMai; 
Pollute with impKnu revels dke. 
O fkir, O chaste, thy ec^oii« shade 
May no fbul discord here invade: 



* Alcaeus. 



^ I'mdar. 



Nor let thy strings one accent move, 
Except what earth's untroubled ear 
'Mid aU Iwr eecial tribca ma^htat. 
And heaven's uaeniag tiKttK approve. 

III. 2. 

Quecm of the lyne, in 'Oiy r«ti«at 
iTie fidrcst flowers of PfaidusgiMr ; 
The vine aspires to crown thy seat. 
And myrtles round thy laurd grow. 
Thy stings adapt thehr varied stiain 
To every pleasnve. evckypidn, 

' WUeh'mortaltiribeswerebonito'pemve 
And straight oar pesrious xiae or nil. 
As at the wind's impeeiens oaU 
The ocean sweito, Oa/Ukmnsmovs. 

IIL S. 

When midnU^t BMen A'er HsmMttiaMri^earAi 
Let me, O Muse.'Oiy solenm wttAmettlwtf : 
Whoi morning sends her fragrant DtceMc fcrth 
With airy motmvM touch my votaiag eer. 
And ever wntcfafttl at thy «ide. 
Let wisdom's 'awfU eafliage||«ilde 

The tenor of thj lay; 
To her of old by Jove was given 
.J^°H^ ^* vaxiotts deedebfeasth and heaven 
Twas thine bj gentle arts to win«st6 her sway. 

rv. 1. 

Oft as, to weu*e*mtd ease lerign'd, 
I quit the maze wiiere sdeiMe t«(fis, 
Bo thou refresh' my yielding mind 
With aU thy gay, cUtesive bp<h1s. 
But, O indulgentt'oome net nigb 
The buCT steps, the jealous eye 
Of wealthy care er gidsAil age : 
Whose bamn souls thy jovs dis^in. 
And hold asfees-te reasove xeign 
Whome'er thy lovely woiks<eB|gage. 

IV; % 

When firiendship«nd when leCter'd n^stb. 
Haply partake my ample boand, 
Then let thy blameleaB hand caU liarth 
The music «f the Tetan ^^HMtd. 
Or if invoked at softer houn, 
O! seek With me the bappy bowers 
* That hear Olympia's gentle tongue ; 
To beauty link'd with virtue's train. 
To love devoid of jealous pain. 
There let the Sappliic lute be strung. 

IV. 9. 

But wlien ttam envy and from death to claim 
A hero bleeding for his native land ; 
When to throw incense on th'e vestal flame 
Of liber^ my genius gives command. 
Nor Theuan voice nor Lesbian lyxe 
From thee, O Muse, do I require ; 

While myjffeaaging mind, 
Conscious iorpowers she never kaew 
Astonish 'd grasps at things beyond her view. 
Nor by another's<fate submits toM conflned. 



I) 



ODE XIV. 

To the HoMurabU Choriee Tonfn^iend. 

From tire-Cotrntiy. 

I. 

» 

SAY, Townshend, what eaa Looden boast 
To pay thee for .the pleanuvs hnt. 

The health to day resign'd, 
When spring from this her &v«uiite seat 
Bade winter hasten his retreat. 

And met the western wind. 

li. 

Oh knew'st thou how the balmy air. 
The sun, the azure heavens prepare 

To heal thy languid frame. 
No more would noisy courts engage; 
Jnvain would lying faction's rage 

Thy sacred'leisure daim. 



40 



[Book I. 



UI. 
Oft I look'd fbrtli. and oft admixed ; 
Till trilh the 11001001 toIoum Uzad 

I looi^ the open day ; 
And tore, I cried, the roral god* 
Expect me in tbetr green abodea» 

And chide mj taray lay. 

IV. 

Bat ah. In vain my restleaa fieet 
Traoed every «Ileiit, shady seat 

Which knew their formi of old : 
Nor Naiad by her fonntain laid. 
Nor Wood-nymph tripping throng^ her glade. 

Did now ueir zltet unfind j 

V. 



Whether to nnxae tome inftnt oak 
They torn the slowly tinkling brook 

And catch the pearly showers. 
Or Ivosh the mildew from the woods» 
Or paint with noontide beams the bods, 

<M breathe on opening flowers. 

VI. 

Bodb rites, which they with spring renew,. 
The eyes of care can never view ; 

Ana core hath long been mine : 
And hence offended with their guest. 
Since Kriiif of love i«y soul oppreis'd. 

They bide their Uuls divine. 

VII. 

Bat soon diall thy enlivening tongae 
This heart, by dear affliction wrong. 

With noble hope insptare ; 
Then will the sylvan powers aoain 
Receive me in their genial train. 

And listen to my lyre. 

vm. 

Beneath yon Dryad's lonelv shade 
A rustic altar shall be paid. 

Of torf with laurel framed : 
And thou the inscription wilt approve; 
«• This fbr dte peace which, lost by love. 

By ibriendship was reclaim'd." 



ODE XV. 

7^ th» Bvemng'Star. 



TO-NIGHT retired the queen of heaven 
With young Endymion stays : 

And now to Hesper is it given 

Awhile to rule the vacant sky. 

Till she shall to her lamp supply 
A stream of brighter rays. 

II. 

O Hesper, while the starry throng 
With awe tby patli surrounds. 

Oh listen to my suppliant song. 

If haply now the vocal sphere 

Can soiTer thy delighted ear 
To stoop to mortal sounds* 

III. 

So m^f ttie bridMroom's genial strain 

Thee still invoke to shine : 
So may the bride's unmarried train 
To Hymen chant their flattering vow. 
Still that his Incky torch may glow. 

With lustre pure as thine. 

IV. 

Far other vows must I prefer 

To thy indulgent power. 
Alas, but now I paid my tear 
On air Olympiad virgin tomb : 
And lo, from thence. In quest I roam 

Of Fhilomela's bower. 



V. 

Propitioos send thv golden ray* 

Thoa poxest li^t above ; 
Let no false flame seduce to stray 
Where gulf or steep lie bid for harm : 
But lead where music's healing chazn^ 

May soothe afflicted love. 

VI. 

To them, by mai^ • grateftil song 

In happier seasons vow'd. 
These lawns, Olympia's haunt, bdong : 
Oft by yon silver stream we walk'd. 
Or fix'd, whUe PhilomeU talk'd. 

Beneath yon copses stood. 

VII. 

Nor seldom, where the beechen boog^ * 

That roofless towec invade. 
We came while her enchanting Muse 
The radiant moon above us held ; 
Till by a clamorous owl compell'd 

She fled the solemn shade. 

VIIL 

But hark! I hear her liquid tone. 

Now, Hesper, guide my fieet 
Down we red marie with moss-o'ergrown. 
Through yon wild thicket next the plain. 
Whose hawthorns choke the winding lane 
. Which leads to her retreat. 

IX. 

See the green qpace : op either hand 

Enlarged it spreads around: 
See, in the midst she takes her.«tand« 
Where one old oak his awftil shade 
Extends o'er half the level mead 

Endoaed in woods profimnd. 



Hark, how through many a melting note 

She now prolongs hei lays : 
How sweetly down the void they float ! 
The breeze thdr magic path attends : 
The stars shine out : the finest bends: 

The wakefbl hd&rs gaze. 

XI. 

Whoe'er ihaa art whom chance may bring 

To this set! uester'd spot. 
If then the plaintive Siren sing. 
Oh sofUy tread beneath her bower 
And tiiink of heaven's disposing power, 

Ofjnan's uncertain lot. 

XII. 

Oh think, o'er all this mortal stage. 

What mournful scenes arise : 
What ruin waits on kingly rage : 
How oflen virtue dwells with wo : 
How many griefs flrom knowledge flow : 

How swinly pleasure flies. 

XIII. 

O sacred bird, let me at eve. 

Thus wandering all alone. 
Thy tender counsel oft receive. 
Bear witness to thy pensive airs. 
And pi^ nature's common cares 

Till I finrget my own. 



ODE XVI. 

To CaUb Hording*, M. D. 

I. 

WITH sordid floods the wintery * Um 
Hath stain'd fisir Richmond's level green 
Her naked hill the Dryads mourn. 
No longer a poetic scene. 



' Aquarius. 



Book /.] i 

No lof^er then H^natami^je 
The beantomu fbcm* tfearth or tky 
SuTTcjs as in flidr Anther's mind : 
And London shelters flrom the jear 
Those wlwm Uij social hours to shaxe 
The Attic Muse design'd. 

IX. 

From Hampstead's airr summit, me 
Her guest the citgr shall behold. 
What dar the people's stem decxee 
To unbeueving kings U told. 
When common men (the dread of £une) 
Adjudged as one of evil name. 
Berare the sun, the anointed nead. 
Then Seek thoa too the pious tovn. 
With no nnwortfaj cares to crovn 
That eyening*s awfttl dlade^ 

III. 

Deem not I eaU thsb to deplore 
The «acx«d manyv of the a«jr, 

?f fhst and penitential lore 
o purge our aadentcttilt Avay. 
For this, on humUe Cuth I rest 
That stin our advocate, ihe ptiest. 
From heavenly wrath will save Ihe land : 
Nor ask what rites our pardon gt^ 
Nor how his potent sotmds restrain 
Tbn ThundeKer's lifted banl. 

IV. 

No, Hardinge : peace to cinut3i ahd state ! 
That evening, let the Muse give law : 
While I anew the theme relate 
Which nn fiiM yoMk esMOMMfrVl aakr. 
Then will I oft enki* thf thaiu(ht» 
WhattowjeotwW di LJ& t tm&tma^tt 
What to puime in Vii«H«s faff : 
Till hope air imrtiO lefieat tUi«s, 
Nor Mv^dtomangiias ar Ungs 
Their fraH aMhratliar awayT 

V. 

O rened fai «n the knmaa fcatne. 
Lead thou where'er my labour Has, 
And English fiuicy's eager flame 
To Grecian purity ehaltiie : 
While hand in hand, at wicdam'a shiine, 
fieauty with truth I mivt to join. 
And grave assent with idadttt^maet 
To paint the stoiy of the tagl. 
Ana Plato's visions to oonOuI 
By * Vemlamlan laws. 



ODE XVII. 

Oh a Sermon ligoUut GMy. 1747. 

I. 

COME then, tell me^ aagedMM, 
Is it an offence to own 
That our bosoms e'er incline 
Toward immoria] gutty's throne ? 
For with me nor pomp, nor pleasure, 
Bourbon's might, Braganu's treasure. 
So can fiucy's dream n^olcek 
So ooacBtete reason's chdce. 
As one apptovteg word of her impirtial veioe 

n. 

If tospumatnoUepvaifee . 
Be the passneit te ttiy Iwsvwi, 
Follow tboQ tfiaae sloony Warn ; 
No^attoh law «o me waa ghoi. 
Nor, I ttnut» riuOl I doSm me 
FarW like my friends Mfaniae 
Nor aHhiolier place desire 
Than Timoleon's anhs acquire. 
And Tully'scutnle chait, and Milton's golden 
lyte. 



* Ver^am cave one of hto titles to Fnuids Bacon, 
aatbor of the Novum Organum. 






ODE XYUh 

V» the lUghi HmounMe ^VaMt's Eati •£ 
Sunhfigdm, 1747. 

I. 1. 

THE wise and great of everr clime, 
Through all the spadoas walks of Time, 
Where^r the Muse her power display 'd. 
With ytf have llsten'd and «»ey«d. 
Vn tsftsht of heevton. Oie aaoed Ntae 
Persuaave n«raiben, ronas divUie, 

To morta!! seme imneit : 
Thqr best the soul wifti ttlrify fire ; 
They vcMeat ceanseh, boIde«t ^eeds Wsfin ; 
And high o'er fbrtuoArageaiChreiMrilie fliied heart. 

I. «. 

N<tt* teas pr0Vail£ng is'their cfaann 

The vengeful bosom to dlmm; 

To melt the proud wMi human wo. 

And prompt unwilling tears to flow. 

Can treaitfi a power' iflce ihia'afltad f 

Can Cromw«lI^s aits, or MattbOMNl^'t swoid. 

An equal empire olafm? 
No, HaAftags. Thou my wolds wflfown : 
Tbv btimtt tbt gifts efiewiy MoA'hAth known : 
Nor shall the |;h«r<s Icrwe dlsgMae ttty iMMe tiame. 

I. ». 

The Mttsei swftil aart. 
And Ow bless'd ftencUon of the poet^k tongue. 
Ne'er shalt thou blush to honour ; to assert 
From all that scorned vice or slavish fear hath song. 
Nor shall the blandishment of Tuscan strings 
Warbljng at will In pleasturet myrtle bower : 
^or stBuT iUe servile notes to 'Celtic kings 
fijr nattering minstrels paid in evil hour. 
Move thee to si>nm the neavenly Mnse'srdgn. 
A diiferent strain. 
And other themes 
From her prophetic shades and haObw^ atreatts 
(Tht>a well canst wttness) meet the purged ear : 
Sudh, as when Greece to her immortal Shell 
Reioiciilg llsten'd, godlike sounds to hear ; 
To heat the sweet instructress teO 
(While men and heroes thzong'd around) 
How lifbits noblest use may find. 
'How wdl taftteeAam be retlgn'a ; 
And how> Iqr SHarj* virtue diall be crown'd. 

II. 1. 

Such was Ihe Chian father's stnin 
To hiany a kind domestic train, 
Wbosf .pious hearth And genial bowl 
' Bad cneer'd the reverend pilgrim^s soul 
When, every hospitable rite 
With equal Dounty to requite. 
He struck hii magkt stzin||s ; 
And iKNtt^d spontsuaeeoB numbers tatiht 
And s«Md UMlr ears wltfa tales of aacMM irorth, 
AndfiU'dtheirMwtoftbeaWswKh'vaithewate t hinjts. 

II. 2. 

Now ottt where happy vplrlts flweD, 
Where yet lie times his charming shell. 
Oft near him. wtth applauding hands. 
The getiins offals country stands. 
To listening gods be makes him known. 
That man divine; by whom were sovra 

- The seeds «f (MeclBB feme : 
Who first Itaeitee with freedom fined ; 
From wiMm Lveoegaa ttpaits's aons fanptMd ; 

ihna aad QypiiBn anyhies 




IX. S. 

O nohlast, happiertagal 
WMen-Azialides mled, and Cime*«milK : 
Wlien«ll4faa«enareuafnM«afHanstt%|ia|te 
Exulting Pindar saw to full perfection brought. 
O Pindar, oft shalt thou tie hail'd of me-: 
Not that Apollo fed thee hoax his sbiine ; 



Jiot thattlur Ups drank fweemes8th>m the bee ; 
Nor yet IbiU, studious of thy notes divlae, 
Fan danced thebr meanire with the ^yinn throngs 



But that thy song 
IT 89 piwi TO uumiu 

What thy baae niten tnmUed ta behald ; 



D3 



WMnqBtodTh^tiMWMpMadtotdt 

The dsacto of Athent and the Pewtan ihame : 
Hence «ii thy heed their imi^oiu vanflaeace au 

Bat thoa, O fUthflil to thy fione. 
The Mine's law dMst lighUT know ; 
Slat who would animate his laji» 
And other minds to Tirtoe raise, 
Mut fM his own widi all her spirit slow. 

III. 1. 

Arc itun, approved of later times, 
Whoee verse adom'd a * tjrraat's crimes? 
Who saw mi^lettlc Rome betray'd. 
And lent thelmperial roflSan sid ? 
Alas! not one polluted bard. 
No, not the strains that Mindiu heard. 

Or Tibur's hiUs replied, 
Daie to the Muse's ear aspire ; 
Save €taA, hutrueted by the Grecian lyie, 
Widi fircedom's ancient notes thdr sha m e ft i l task 
they hide. 

in. t. 

Maik. how the dread PanOeon stands. 
Amid the domes of modem hands t 
Amid the toys of idle state. 
How simply, how severely great ! 
Then turn, and, while each western dime 
yieseuta her tnneAU sons to Time, 

So mark t^ou Milton's name ; 
And add, «' Thus difi^ firom the throng 
The spirit which in&rm'd thy awful song. 
Which bade thy potent voice protect thy country^ 
flune.^' 

III. S. 

Yet hence barbaric zeal 
His memory with unholy rage puROM : 
While flrom these arduous cares of public weal 
She w<<« each bard begone, and rest nim with his 
Muse. 
O ftol ! to think the man, whose ample mind 
Most grasp at all that vonder stars survnr ; 
Must join the noblest forms of every kind. 
The wodid's most perfect imaf» to display. 
Can e'er his countnr's ma}esiy behold, 
^ Unmoved or cold ! 

Ofool! todeom 
That he, whose thought must visit every theme. 
Whose heart must ever^ strong emotion know, 
Inspired by nature, or by ftrtune taught ; 
That he, if haply some presumptuous ne. 
With &lse ignoble science firaucht. 
Shall spurn at fieedom's fidthful band ; 
That he their dear defence will shun. 
Or hide their glories flrom a»e sun. 
Or deal Huix vengeance with a womaa's hand ! 

IV. 1. 

I care not that in Amo's pltdn, 
Or on the sportive banks of Sehie, 

'^ From public themes the Muse's quire 
Content vrith pollsh'd ease retire. 
Where priests the studious head command. 
Where tyrants bow the warlike hand 
. To vile ambition's aim. 
Say, what can public themes afTord 
Save venal honours to a hateftil lord, [nme ? 

Reserved for angry heaven and scotn'd of nonest 

IV. 2. 

But here, where flreedom's equal throne 
To all her valiant sons is known ; 
Where all are consclons of her cares. 
And each the power, that rules him, diaxea ; 
Here let the bard, whose dastard tongue 
Leaves public arguments unsung. 

Bid public praise fiurewell : 
Let him to fitter climes remove. 
Tar from the hero's and the patriot's love, 
And lull mytterioos monks to shunber in their eell. 

IV 5. 

O Hastings, not to all 
Can ruling heaven the same endowments lend: 
Yet still doth nature.to her offirarlng call, [bend. 
That to one genoal weal their dlfierent powers they 



* Octavianus Caeiar 



Unenvioiu. Thus alone, tiiough strains divine 
Inform the bosom of the Muse's son ; 
Thooi^ with new honours the patrician's Ihae 
Advance from age to age; yet &ua alone .. 
They win the suffirage of Imparoal fame. 
The poet's name 
He best shall prove. 
Wbooe lays the soul with noblest passions 

niove. 
But thee, O progenv of heroes old, 
Tlice to severer toils thy &te requires 
The f^te which form'd thee in a chosen mould. 
The grateAil country of thy sires. 
Thee to sublimer paths demand ; 
Sublimer than thy dres could trace. 
Or thy own Edward teach his race. 
Though Gaul's proud genius sunk beneath his 
hand. 

V. 1. 

From rich domains and subject farms, 

Thef led the rustic youth to arms; 

And kings their stem achievements fiear'd 

• While private strifie their banners rear'd. 
But loftier scenes to thee are shown. 
Where empire's wide estabUsh'd throne 

No private master fills : 
Where, long fbretold, the people leigns 
Where each a vassal's humUe heart d&dains ; ' 

And Judgeth what he .sees; and, as he Jndgeth, 

wais. 

V. 2. 

Here be it thine to calm and guide 
The swelling democratic tide ; 
To watch the state's uncertain fltame. 
And baffle faction's partial aim: 
But diiefly with detentained zeal, 
Toquell mat servile band, who kneel 

To freedom's banish'd foes ; 
That monster, which is daily found 
Expert and bold thy country's peace to wound 
Yet oreads to handle arms, nor maaif connael 
knows. 

V. 3. 

'Tis highest heaven's command. 
That guilty abns should stncdid paths jniisue ; 
That what ensnares the heart should maim the 
hand. 
And virtne's worthless ibes be &lse to gloiy too. 
But look on fineedom : see, through every age. 
What labours, perils, grieis, bath she diidun'd ! 
What arms, what regu pride, what prie&tlv rage. 
Have her dread offspring conquer'd or susiain'd ! 
For Albion well have conquer'd. Let the suraina 
Of happy swains. 
Which now resound 
Where Scarsdale's cliffs the swelling poaturea 

bound. 
Bear witness. There, oft let the fanner hail 
The sacred orchard which embowers his gate. 
And show to strangers passing down the vale, 
. Where Candish, Boothe, and Osborne sate ; 
When bunting from their country's chain. 
Even in the midst of deadly harms. 
Of papal snares and lawless arms, 
Thqr plann'd tat fireedom this her noblest leign. 

VL 1. 

This reign, these laws, this public care. 
Which Nassau gave us all to share. 
Had ne'er adom'd the English name. 
Could fear have silenced freedom's dains. 
But fear in vain attempts to bind 
Those lofty efforts of the mind . 
Which social good inspires i *'• 
Where men, for this, assault a throne,. 
Each adds the common wel&re to his own t 
And each unoonqucr'd heart the sticngth of atf 
aoqniras. 

VI. 2. 

Say, was it thus, when late we view'd 
Our fields in civil blood imbnied ? 
When fortune crowp'd the barbarons host. 
And half the astonish'd isle was lost ? 
Bid one <tf all that vaunting train. 
Who dare affiront a peacefw reign. 



^06k /.I 



43 



Dunt one in anitt amen ? 
Dont one in eoomeb pwdce his life ? 
Stake Us lazuions isitimcs m the stilfe ? 
Or lend his boasted name his 
cheer? 



to 



VI. 5. 

Yet» Hasrinn, these are they 
Who diallenge to themselves thj oountxy's lore : 
The true; tine constant : who aume can wdgo, 
S^^hat clorr shonld demand, or libcm approvBT 
But let their works declare them. Toy nee powerSf 
The generons powen of thj pieTailiiic mind. 



Not fer the tasks of their confederate lumts. 
Lewd brawls and lurfcliig slander, woe dedipi'd. 
Be then thj own approver. Hooiest praise 
(Hfc noblj swajrs 
Inaennoos 700th :% 
Bnt. soo^t mxn cowards and the lying mouth. 
Poise is reproach. Eternal God alone 
For mortals fixeth that sublime award. 
He, firom the feithlbl records of his throne. 
Bids the historian and the bard 
Dispose of honour and cf scorn; 
Disoem the patriot flpom the slave : 
And write the good, the wise, the Dnre, 
For les sons to the multitude unban. 



ODES. 



JBMk ii:- 



45 



u. 

Jjjji inWnteht fltcm her itony *<I(P> 
Looks ainul down on earth and RMln. 
The timeftil.blrds lie huah'd in sleep. 
With all that crop the vadant foodl 
With all that skim the ciystal flood. 

Or haunt the caTeins of the rodn steep. 

No mshinK winds disturb the tuned bowers ; 

No wakeful sound the moontisbt Talley knows. 

Save where the'bnxA its Uqufi murmur pours, 
And bills the waving scene to move prafound repot 



repose. 



lU. 



let not me alone complain. 
Alone inToke Mxj power in vain ! 
Descend, propitious, on my eyes ; 
Not/rmn the couch that bears a crown. 
Not iSrom the courtly statesman's down. 

Nor where the miser and his treasure lies : 
Bring not the shapes that break the murderer^ 

rest. 
Nor tfaosethe hixding soldier loves to see. 
Nor those which haunt the bigot's gloomy breast ; 
Far be theirguilty nights, and for their dreams 
firommel 

IV. 

Nor yet those awftd fbrms present. 
For chie& and hemes only meant : 
The figured brass, the choral song. 
The rescued people's glad applause. 
The listening senate, and the laws 
Fix'd by the counsels of* Timoleon's tongue. 
Are scenes too grand fbr finrtune's private wayv; 
And tho' they shine in youth's ingenuous view. 
The sober gauifkil arts of modem days 
To such romantic thoughts have bid along adleo. 

V. 

1 ask not, god of dreams, fhy care 
To banish liove's presentments fidr : 
Nor rosy cheek nor radiant eye 

Can arm him with sodi strong command 
That the young seroeret^ fistu hand 
ghonld round my soul his pleasing fetters tie. 
Nor yet the courtier^ hope, the ^ving smile 
<A lighter phantom, anda baser chain) 
IMd e-er in slumber my pnmd lyre besuile 
To lend the pomp of torones her iu-aocoiding 
strain. 

VI. 

But. Morphea^ on fhy balmy wing 
'Such honourable visions brings 
As soothed great Milton's Injiued age. 
When in prophetic dreamt he saw 
The race nnbom with pious awe 
Imbibe each virtue frcnn nis heavenly page : 
Or such as Mead's benignant tuacy kxiows 
When health's de» treasures, by bis art explored. 
Have saved Oie inant from an orphan's woes. 
Or to the trembling sire his age's hope restored. 



ODE III. 

To Ou Cuckoo. 

I. 

O RUSTIC hersld of the spring. 
At length in yonder vroody vale 
Fast by the brook I hear thee sing; 
And, studious of thy homely tale. 
Amid the vespers of the grove. 
Amid the chanting clurfr of love. 
Thy sage response* haiL 



II. 

The tfana has been when I hsve ftowB'd 
To hear thy voice the woods invade ; 
And while thy sdemn accent drown'd 
Some sweeter poet of the shade. 
Thus, thought I, dius the sons of care 
Some constantmoath or generous fiiir 
fflOx dull advice upbraid. 

III. 

I said, ''While Philomela's song 
Proclaims the passion of the grove. 
It ill beseems a cuckoo's tongue 
Her charming language to reprove "— 
Alas, how much a lover's ear 
Hates aU the sober truth to hear. 
The sober truth of love ! 

17. 

When hearts are in each other blass'd. 
When nought but lofbr £aith can rule 
The nymph's and swam's consenting breast. 
How cuckoo-Jlke in Cupid's school. 
With store of grave, prudential saws 
On fiwtune's power and custom's laws. 
Appears each friendly ibol 1 

V. 

Vet think betimes, ye gentle train 
Whom love and hope and fimcy sway. 
Who every harsher care disdain, 
"Who by the morning judge the day, 
Think that, in April's fidrest hours. 
To waibong shades and painted flowen 
The cnckoo jeans his lay. 



* After Timoleon had delivered Syracuse tram 
the ^rrannv of Dionyslus, the people on every im- 
portant deubeiation sent for hita into the pnblio 
assenfbly, asked his advice, and voted acoorung to 
it.— P/ateix*. 



ODE IV. 

To iK» BoHOtmtU CharU§ TonnuktHd, in ike 
Camtry. 1750. 

I. 1. 

ROW oft shall I survey 
This humble roof, the lawn, the greenwood shades 

The vale vrith sheaves o'eiaiiaread. 
The glaaay brook, tiie flocks which round thee stray P 

When will thy dieerflil mind 
Of these have nttes'd all her dear esteem ? 

Or, tell me, dost Ihon deem 
No aoie to Join in gkny's toilsome race. 

But here contempt embrace 
That happy leisure which thou hadst resign'd ? 

I. S. 

Alas, yehappvhonri. 
When books and youtoflil sport the soul could share. 

Ere one ambitions care 
Of civil lUb had awed her simpler powers ; 

Oft as your wingnd train 
Revisit here my ftiendin white «rray. 

Oh fidl not to display 
Each &irer scene when I perchance had part. 

That so his generous heart 
The aiiode of even niendshlp may remain. 

I. S. 

For not imprudent of my loss to come, 
I saw fhnn contemplation's quiet cell 
His foot ascending to another home 
Where public praise and envied greatness dwell. 
But shall we therefore, O my lyre, 
Rnsrove ambition's best desire ? 

Extinguish glory's flame ? 
Far other was the task p^Join'd 
When to my hand thy strings were fin* 
assign'd: 
Far other ftith belongs to friendship's bonour'd 



IfiM/r id. 



I't Boiy cfaai^ 



IL 1. 

TIkMk l^Bwariil 

Of diun leiliuc mm, \ 

WenMJaaiii 
No, nor bright idaMjew Mr«t« MaW«i 

Far tfacBK bigh Mtvan preporct 
Their propCT wi«ria% an bvBiUer tMBd • 

And ne'er veald Speaaer's hand 
Have debpi'd to strike the warbling Tuscan dicU/ 

Nor Harrington to «dl 
MHiat habit an immortal city wean* 

II. S. 

t^mA Mt been bom to shield 
The cause which Cnmwdl's imploas hand betn^'d. 

Or that, like Veve display^ 
His red cross banner «rer the Belgian AM ; 

Yet where the will diTine 
Hath shut those loftiest paths, it next remains, 

With reason dad in chains 
Of harmony, selected minds to inspire 

And Tirtue's liTing fire 
To Ibed and eternize in hearts like thine. 

II. 3. 

For noTer shall the herd, whom enyy swavs, 
So quell my purpose or mv tongue oontrof. 
That I shculd tear illiutnons worth to pr^iw, 
JBecause its master's Mendstiip moved m^ aaw. 
Yet, if this undissambUng strain 
Should now periiaps thine ear detain 

With avy plcaaing sooad. 
Remember tnou that rl^teoos Ibrae 
Prom hroacf age a atilot acoount will claim 
Of each auspicious nalii^ with which tlv youth was 



crown'd 



III. 1. 



Nor obvious is the way 
Where heaven expects thee, nor the traveller 



Through flowers or firagrant meads. 
Or groves tliat hark to Philomela's ^y. 

The impartial laws of &te 
To iMbler vMaM wd aev ewr cana. 

Is there a man who shares 
The summit next where heavenly natnxea dwell ? 

Ask him (Ibr he can tell) 
What storms beat round that roo^, Uboiions 
height. 

ni. X. 

Ye hetew, whoeToM 
Did generous Jgngitod ft e a d o te's thrww ortUia; 

Prom Almd's patent leign 
To Nassau, great d^veiwr, wise and held ; 

I know yoaar perUa hard. 
Your wounds, your paiaAtl naichca, wtntetj «nB, 

The night eMranged ftt>m eaae^ 
The dayby eowardloe and IblMOMMd vex4. 

The head with doubt perplex'd. 
The indignant heart disdaining the reward ' 

UI. 8. 

Wlilch envy hardly grants. But. Ovenown, 
O praise finmi Jnd^ng heaven and virtuous asHii 
If thus they purchaara thy divinest crown. 
Say, who shall hesftate ? or who eompMn ? 
And now they sit on thrones above : 
And when among the sods they niov* 

Before the sovran mind, 
"Lo, these," hesaith, "lo, these BMIIiey 
Who to the laws of mine eternal sway 
From violence and fear assekted human kind." 

IV. 1. 

'thusiionour'd while the train 
Of legldatort in his nresence dwell ; 

If I may ougnt foretell. 
The statesman shaU the iiecond palm cittlda. 

For dreadful deeds of anus 
Let Tulsar bards, with undlsceming praise. 

More glittering trophies raise : 
But wiseit heaven what deeds nuiychlffly mov« 

To fkvonr and to love ? 
What, save wide blessings, or averted harms ? 



IV. t 

Nor tAttt CfBihittflMi 1 
Shall these MMevemehts oflteTrnxfU gmm 

The green, immortal cMMra 
T)f vidour, or the songs of conMnest, yield. 

Not Falffiu wOdK borii, 
Mliile bare of crest he >Jrm^ hisfttil w^. 

' Through Nasebay'B fim aivay. 
To heavier dangen did his breaA oppoae 

Than ^ym's firee vtrtae t&ote, 
Whfltt the pMod itaMjeef SWMNri he tioBipell^ 

IV. 8. 

But what is man a< enmity «lt)i truth ? 

What were the firoits St Wentwordi's copioas 

mind 
When (bUgltted all the vromlse df his joutb) 
The patriot in a tyrant's league had l<^'d ? 
Let Ireland's h>ad-lauenting plains. 
Let Tyne^ and Hnmber*s trampled trwains. 

Let menaced London tell 
How impio(u guUe made wisdom base ; 
How generous seal to cruel rage gave plaoe ; 
And how nnbless'd he lived ana how dishonour^ 



fell. 



V. 1. 



the 



Thence never hath the Muse 
Around his tomb Pierian roses flung : 

Nor shall «ne poet's knupae 
His name fbtr muslc% pleasing Ulmur chooae. 

And s»e, whoi nature kind 
Hath dack'd some &voWd Ueaat above 
flunong. 

That man with grievous •> 
Affinrnta and wounds \&. aaim^ if hnl 

To guilt's ignoble ends 
The fiuctians of bis ill-submitting mind. 



V. S. 

For worthy of the wise 
Nothl&BcanaeembatvlitsM; noreiMikyidd 

TheiT fame an equal Aeld, 
Save where Iranartial fa eedta n gives Urn prt'ie. 

IlieBe Somen AxM Ids name, 
EnrolI'dtlieiiextteWtlUamj tikeresfaaUTime 

To every wondering oUme 
Petat «ut that OflUerSk who froas fisctiatt's ecewd 

The slanderous and the loud* 
Could fidr assent and miodeet reverence claim. 

v., 8. 

Nor aught did laws or social arts acquire. 
Nor thS a Mgc st i c weal of Albion's land 
Did auf^t aocomplish, or to anght aspire* 
Without his ffttidiuace, hiatapctior hand. 
And rkfitly shaU the Muse's oaxe 
Wvaat&i lice her own tat Um prepare. 

Whose mind's eaanonr'd aim 
Gould forms of dvil teaaty draw 
Sublime as every sage er poet saw. 
Yet still to life's rude scene the proud ideas tarae. 

VI. 1. 

Let none profene be near ! 
The Muse was never foreign to his breast : 

On power's grave seat confess'd, 
StiQ to her voice he bent a lover's ear. 

And if the blessed know 
Their ancient eatts, even now the un&dins 
groves. 

Where liapl) Milton roves 
With Spenser, hear die enchanted echoes round 

'Throuffi fo r thas t heaven re s o u nd 
Wise Somersj, guardian of their fiune below. 

VI. «. 

He knew, tne patriot teew, 
That letters and the Muse's powerftti 8rt 

Exalt the ingennous bean. 
And brifditen every form of just «nd true. 

"Tney lend a nobler sway 
To civil wisdom, than corrtiptian^ lure 

Could ever yet procure ; 
They too from envy's pde, malignant night 

Oondoct her iortii to dmt 
Clothed in the fairest colours of the day. 



Mitok If.} 



4t 



VI. 3. 

O Towittboid, thus ma^ Ttaietthc Jadg* asiiexe. 
Instruct nj happy tqpgne of thee to teu : 
And when I speafe of one to fincdom daar 
For planning wlael; and for acting veil. 
Of one whom gloiy krrai to own* 
Who still hj liberal meanaakuM 

Hath liberal ends pursued; 
Then, for the guerdon of mj lay, 
'* This man with frittiftd firiendkhip,'* will I say. 
" Prom youth to hMMinr'd agemy arts and me hato 
-riew'd. 



ODE V. 

On Lovt (ff Prttite. 

I. 
OP all the springs within the mind 

Which prompt her steps in fortune's maze. 
From n<Aie more pleasing aid we find 

Than firom the genuine love of pcaisct 

II. 

Nor any partial, pdnits end 

Such reverence to the public bean ; 

Nor any passion, virtue's friend, 
80 U£e to virtue's self appears. 

i III. 

Por who in glory can dcUsdit 
Without delight in glonSus deeds 

What man a charming voice can sU^t, 
Who courts the echo that succcMS ? 

IV. 
But not the echo on the voiee 

More, than on vhctne praise, «l«WTMf : 
Towhich. of course, its Kal price' 
The judgaMBt of the pEsiser lends. 

•V. 

If praise then, wJtbseUgnuB awe, 
From tbttsele pecfi!^>dge besouglit, 

A nobler aim, a pMcc lav, 
N<» priest, nor baid, nor saga haA tao^t. 

VI. 
With which, in character the same. 

Though in an humbbo' sphere it lies. 
I count the spui ef human fame. 

The suifrage efllie good and wise. 



ODE VI. 

r« WiUumBaa, Stpdre: rtUkVuWarb 
<lfChamlitm, 

'I. 
ATTEND to Chaidleu^ wanton ly«; 
While, fluent as the skylnric shigs 
When first the aMm annrcs iu wings. 
The eUcure his theme pursues: 
And teU me it, among the choir 
Who» mu^c charms the banks of Seine, 
80 full, so ftee, so rich a strain 
E'er dictated the warbUog Muse. 

II. 

Tet Hall, while thy jndlclons ear 
AdmhEBS the wn.?lfrnmLled an 
That can such harmony impart 
To the tame pace of Gallic rhymes ; 
While wit from afiectatioii dear, 

f^.f**"!P^ ami passions true, 
Rscall to tbv aMimtfng view 
The snviad bards of nelriai timesn 



pus here 
Bt phrase 



III. 

8ay,isnot oft his doctrine wvssw? 
This priest of pleaanze, who anStea 
To lead us to ier sacred fires, 
Knows he the ritual of her shrine ? 
Say, (her sweet Influence to thy song 
So noav die goddess stlU aifoid) 
Doth she consent to be adoied 
With sha me l es s love and frantio wine-? 

IV. 

Nor Cato, nor Chrysippus b 
Need we Aa M^, iamgnant 
From thafar Biystan quiet za 
Bat plaasoBens flsacle alone 
Cobsult; attsntive^ not severe. 
O pleasune, we blaspheme not thee ; 
Nor emulata the zwid knee 

Which bends but aSthe Stale thsoae. 

V. 

We own had &te to man assign'd 
Nor sense, nor wish but what obey 
Or Venus sof^ or Bacchus gay. 
Then might oiur bard's voluptuous creed 
Most amfy govern human kmdi 
I^ttasTperdance what he hatb sung 
Of tortnn|Jplnts«nd nerves unstrung. 
Some wxanidiQg hsndic should pleadr 

VI. ' 

But isQv with aU Oicsejnoad daafna 
Fw dauntless truth aodhoneat flune ; 
With that stmng master of our frame. 
The inexoraU* Jttdg« witblou 
What can be done ? Alas, ye fires 
Of love; alas, ye Msy smiles. 
Ye nectas'd eups ficm im ppf fiT wUm, 
—Ye have no Giibe his grace tewicu 



OBB VU. 

To the Bight RtvertadBti^amin Lord Buhop 
^WtHOMtar. 17M. 



ITl. 

FOR toils which patiiou haw endured. 
For treason oueH'a and taws wywrgH. 
In everrpation Time diq>lays 
The.pdon of Jumouxable praise. 
Envy may rail; and fiwtion fierce 
May strive : but what, alas, can those 
(Though bold, yet blhid rad sordid foes) 
,., ^P.g^ ^** * ' apAlove oppose. 
To fiiUlilia atoiar and pBxsuaSve vetse ? 



I. 8. 



Onurse of fteedbov Albion, say. 
Thou tamer of despotic sw^. 
What man among ika sosis ezound, 
3^us hebr to i^osT hast thou feundr 
Wlttt page^ all thy annals faright, 
Hasl thou with purer Joiy survey^ 
Ttan that where truth, by Hoadly>s aid. 
Wdn« dumugh imposture^ solemn shade, 
rhrou^ kingly and through saoetdotal night 

To him the Teacher bless'd. 
Who smt religion from the palmy field 
E^ Jordan, likerthe mom tooHeer the west, 
And lifted up die veU which heaven from earth 
oonoeal'd. 
To Hoadly thus his mandate he address'd : 
" Go ttou, and rescue my dlshono^d taw 
From hands rapaeioBs and from toiunes Impure 1 
Let not mjpeaeefU name be madea lure 
Pell petsearaon<S mortal snAes to aid : 
I*t not my wonlsbe inpiou chains to drair 

To ftith without assent^ allegiance amepiSd.'' 



4S 



onas. 



[Book If, 



II. 1. 

No oold or onpafiynniRS hand 
Wm am'd hf hMven with this eommaiid. 
The worid loon felt it : and, on high. 
To WiHiam'i ear with welcome Jot 
Did Locke among the Uew'd nn&ld. 
The riling hope of HoadlT*B name, 
Oodolnhin then coniirm'a the fiune ; « 
And Somen, when from earth lie came, 
Aadfanarona Stanhope the fair Mqael told. 

II. «. 

Than diifv the lawgiTen anmnd, 
(Sim of die Oicdan name renown'd) 
Aad liitening aak'd, and wondertng ki 
What prlTate feroe could tfaua aabdae 
The Tolgar aad the great combined: 
Cooldiwar with tacred fially wage; 
Could a whole nation diaengage 
Fkom the dread bonda of many an age. 
And to new hahits mould the pubUc mind. 

II. 3. 

For not a eonqueror't rword. 
Nor the atrong powers to cItU founderB known, 
Wcrehia: but truth bj faithftil learch explored. 

And aoeial lente, like seed, in genial nlentj sown. 
Wherever it took root, tn^soul (Hfitoxed 
To fr e ed o m ) fteedo nt too tar otiiers sought. 
Not Monkish craft the tyrant's claim diVine, 
Not legal real the boot's cruel shiine 
Could MDger guard mm reason^ warfltte sage ; 
Not the irild rabble to sedition wran^^ 
Nor ajriiods by the papal Genius tangn^ 

Nor St. John's q^t loose, nor Atterbiiyli nge. 

UI. 1. 

But where shall recompense be fimnd ? 
Or how such arduous merit crbwn'd ? 
For loOk on life's laborious scene : 
What ru^ed spaces lie between 
Adventurous ▼utue's earlj toils 
And her triumphal throne ! The shade 
Of death, meantime, does oft luTade 
Hot progress; nor, to ua display'dv 
wears the Kight heroine her expected spdls. 

III. S. 

Tet bom to oonqner is her power : 
^O Hoadly, if that fevourite hoar 
On earth uTive, with thankful awe 
We own Just heaven's indulgent law. 
And proudly thy success behold ; 
We attend thy reverend length of days 
With benediction and with praise. 
And haU Thee in our public ways 
Like some great spirit fiuioed in age* Old. 

IIL S. 

While thus our vowa prolong 
Thy stem on earth, and when by us resignVl 
Thou Join'st thy seniors, that heroic throng 

Who rescued or preserved the rights of human n««i, 
O ! not unworthy may thy Anion's tongue 
Thee still, her friend and benefactor, name : 
O ! never. Hoadlv, in thy country's eyes. 
May impious gold, or pleasure's gaudy jnize. 
Make public virtue, public freedom, vife ; 
Nor our own manners tempt us to disclaim 
That heritase, our noblest wealth and fame. 

Which Thou hast kept entire from force and fto> 
tious guile. 



ODE VIII. 

I. 

IF rlgfaUy tanefiil bards decide. 
If it be fix'd in love's decrees. 

That beauty otaght not to be tried 
But bv iu native power to please, 

Then tell me, youths and lovers, t^. 

What fidr can Amont exfld ? 



IL 

Behold that InliMi vncullled smile, 
_ And wisdom spnUng in her mien 
Vet (she so artless aU the while, 

8o little studious to be seen) 
We nought but instant gtadneas __ 
Nor think to whom the gift we owe. 

in. 

But neither mu4c, nor the powen 
Of math and mirth and froUc dki« 

Add half Uiat sunshine to the hoon» 
Or make life's prospect half so oleav. 

As me mory brings it to the eye 

From scenes where Amcoet was 17. . 

IV 

Yet not a satirise oould there 
Or fault or indiscretion find; 

Nor any prooder sage declare 
One virtue, pictured in his mind, 

Whose fcrm with lovelier coloon glow* 

Than Amorat's demeanor shows. 

V. 

This sure is beauty's happiest part ; 

This gives the most unbounded sway : 
This shall enchant the subject heart 

When rose and lily fiide awi^; 
And she be still, hi mite off time. 
Sweet Anunvt in.aU ner prime. 



ODE IX. 

At SSa^y. 



WHITHER did my fkney stray ? 
By what magic dnwn away 

Have I left my studious thane ? 
From this philoooidiic page. 
From the proUems of the sage, 

Wandering through a pleasuig dream t' 

n. 

■TU in vain, alas! I find. 
Much in vain, my realous mind 

Would to learned wisdom's throne 
Dedicate each thou^tflil hour: - 
Nature bids a softer power 

Claim some minutes fer his own. 

IU. 

Let the boqr or the wise 

View him with contemptuoni e«aa • 

Love is native to the neart: ' 
Guide its wishes as you will ; 
Without love you'll find it stiU 

Void In one essential purt. 

IV. 
Me though no peculiar iUr 
Touches with a lover's care : 

Though the pride of my desire 
Asks immortal friendship's name. 
Asks the palm of honest feme. 

And the old heroio IjTO ; 

V. 

Though the day have smoothly gosie. 
Or toletter'dldsure known, '■^'* 

Or in social du^ spent. 
Yet at eve my lonely breast 
Seeks in vain for pnfect rest; 

fianyiiihes fer true content. 



ODE X. 

T$ ThemM Sdmtrd*, Ssquin: m fihe 
tiUtoHqfMr.Pof^sWork$. 1751. 

1. 

BELIEVE me, Edwards, to restrain 
The license of a railei's toigue 
Is what but seldom men dbuin 
Qy sonse or wit^ by prese or soBgi 



Book JI.] 



49 



r 



A task fixr man HerealMo powar^ 
Nor suited to the ncnd hoiura 
Of Itinuw in the Mue's bowen. 

II. 

In boven where hnml wcdt wlUi patan» 
The M vw, the blamelew queen, readee t 
Fair fiune sttoods, and wiadom calm 
Her eloquence barnoonioui guides : 
While, shut for ever flrom her gate. 
Oft tiTing, still repining, wait 
Fierce envy and odumnions bate. 

Ill 

Who flien flmn her deli^tf j1 bcnnda 
Would step one moment forth to hoed 
'What Impotent and savage sounds 
From their unhappy mouths proceed ? 
No : rather Spenser's Ijre again 
PreMxe, and let thy pious stiain 
For Tope's dishonourd shade complain. 

IV. 

Tell how displeased was erery bard. 
When lately in the Elysian grove 
They of his Muse's guardian heard. 
Bis del^iate to fome above ; 
And what with one accord they said 
Of wit in drooping age misled. 
And Warbnrton'i officious aid : 

T. 

How Virgil moom'd the sordid &te 
To fliatjnelodions lyra aialgn'd 
Beneatti a tutor who so late 
WltHMidaa and his rout combined 
^ spiteftd clamour to confbnnd 
Tnat very lyre's endumttng sound. 
Though Usttning realms admired around : 

VI. 

How Horace own'd he thought the fire 
Of his Mend Pope's satiric Itaie 
IMd Eurther fuel scarce require 
From such a militant divUie : 
How Milton scom'd the,sophist vain 
Who durst approach his hallow'd scnln 
With unwasa'd hands and lips profane. 

VII. 

Then Shakspean debonair and mild 
Brought that strange comment fivth to view ; 
Conceits more deep, be said and smiled. 
Than his own fbols or madmen knew : 
But thank'd a senerous fHend above, 
Whedid with me, adventurous love 
Such pageants ftom his tomb remove. 

vni. 

And if to Pope, in equal need. 
The same kind oflSce thou wouldst pay. 
Then, Edwards, all the band decreed 
That future bans with Sequent lay 
Should call on thy suspicious name. 
From each absurd intruder's claim 
To keep inviolate their fiune. 



ODE XI. 



2b Oe Comlry QtnOtme* qfEn^tmd. 1758. 



I. 

WHITHER is Emope^s ancient spta-It flsd ? 
Where are those valiant tenantt or her shore? 
Who from the warrior bow the strong dart sped. 
Or with firm hand the rapid pole-ax Dore ? 
Freeman and soldier was tlieur common name. 
Who late with reapers to the fiurow came. 
Now in the firont of battle chaxnd the foe : 
Who tauj^t the steer the wintery plough to 

endure. 
Now in itall councils check'd encroaching power. 
And gave tlie guardian U«n their majesty to know. 



II. 

Bat who an js? from Efare^ kitolnc sens 
To Tibet's pananta, to tlie sporti of Seine; 
From Bliine'snail palaces to Dannb^ thronaa 
And dtiea looking on the Cimbde main. 
Ye lost, ye self-dcecitiid? wliose proud lords 
Have braed your tame hands, and given yooi 

■woras 
To slavish ruffians, hired tat their command: 
These, at some greedy monk's or harlot* s nod. 
See lined nations crouch beneath their rod . 
rhoe are the public will, die reason of the land. 

III. 

Thou, heedlea Albiod, what, alas, tiie while 
Boat thou presume ? O inexpert in arms. 
Yet vain of fi«edom, how doat thou beguOe, 
With dreams of hope, these near and loud alarms? 
Thy splendid home, thy plan of lavrs renown'd. 
The inraise and envy ofthe nations raund, 
What care hast thou to guard flmn fortune's sway? 
Amid the storms of war, how soon may all 
The lofty pile from its foundations fidl. 
Of agee the proud toil, the ruin of a day ! 

IV. 

No: thou art ridi, thy streams and fintile valea 
Add industry's wise gifts to nature's store : 
And every port is crowded with thy sails. 
And every wave throws treasure on tlqr snore. 
What boots it ? If luxurious plenty dwrm, 
Thy stifish heart finom glory, if thy arm 
Shrink at the Crowns or danger and of pain. 
Those gifts, that treasure is no longer thine. 
Ohntfierarbepoor. Thy gold will shine 
Tempting the eye of fince, and deck thee to fliy 
bane. 

V. 

But what hath fatet or war to do with thee ? 
Girt by the azure tide and throned sublime 
Amid thy fioating bulwarks, thou canst see. 
With scorn, the niry of each hostile'cllme 
Bash'd ere it reach thee. Sacred from the fie 
Are thy fiair fields : athwart thy guardian prow 
No bold invader'k foot shall tempt the strands 
Yet say, n^ country, will the waves and wind 
Obey thee? Hast thou all thy hopes resign'd 
To Oie sky's fickle faiOi? the pUot's wavering 
band? 

VI. 

For oh may neither fear nor s tronger love 
(Love, by thv virtuous princes nouy won) 
Thee, last of many wretched nations, movift, 
With mi^^ armies stetion'd around the throne 
To trust thy safety. Then, farewell the claims 
Offireedom! Her proud records to the fiames 
Then bear, an ofTenng at ambition's.shrine ; 
Whate'er thy ancient patriots dared demand 
F^m fiirious John's, orlUthless Chariest hand. 
Or what great William seal'd fligr his adopted Une. 

VII. 

But if thy sons be worthy of their name. 
If liberal laws with liberal hearts tbey prize. 
Let them fkom conquest, and from servile shame 
In war's glad school their own protectors riw. 
Ye chiefly, heirs of Albion's cultured plains. 
Ye leaders of her bold and faithful swains. 
Now not imequal to your birth be fSnuid : 
The.public voice bids arm your rural state. 
Paternal hamlets ibr your ensigns wait^ 
And grange and fidd prepare to pour their youth 
around. 

- vnr. 

« 

Why areye tardy? whasmgloiloascare 
Detains you from their head, your native poet ' 
Who most their country's fiune and nrtune 

share, 
lis theirs to share her toils, hor perils most. 
Each man his task in social life sustains. 
With partial labours, with domestic gains 
Let otners dwell : to yon indulgent heaven 
By counsel and by arms the inibllc cause 
To serve ibr public love and love's applause. 
The first employment ftr, the noUest hire, hath 

given* 



E 



so 



09B8. 



[Book IL 



IX: 

Ha«B y* not iMUd of LMMdooiB'k JSvotic ? 
Of Attie chMk In llraadom't w»t divliM ? 
orRonw^atcwlmienl*? tfa* Valeiian name? 
The Fabian Mos r the Scipios, matchlcM Una ? 
Your lot was tbeln. The tutaet aad the svahi 
Met his loved patnm't nmunoos tttua the plain ; 
The legions gather'd; ttie bright eagles flew : 
Barbanan monarchs in the trnunvh nunun'd ; 
The conquerara to their hotudnold gods letam'd 
A.nd fed Calabrian flocks, and tteet^ the Sabine 
plough. 



Shall then this glon of Oie antlqiie age. 
This pride of men, be lost among mankind ? 
Shall war's heroic arts no more engage 
The unbooght hand, Ae nnsubjected mind ? 
Doth Taloor to the race no more belong ? 
No more with scorn of Tlolenee and wrong 
Both forming nat\ire now her sons inspire. 
That, like some mysterr to few reTealVl, 
The skill of arms abashed and awed they yield. 
And from their own defence with hopeIe» hearts 
retire. 

XI. 

O shame to hwnan life, to homan laws ! 
The loose adTenturer. hireling of a day. 
Who his fell sword without affection draws. 
Whose God. whose countiy, is a tyrant's pay. 
This man the lessons of the field can learn ; 
Can every palm, which decks a warrior, earn. 
And every pledge of conquest : while In vain. 
To guard your altars, your paternal lands, -. 
Are social arms held out to your firee hands : 
Too arduous is the lore ! too irksome were' the 
pain. 

XII. 

Meantime by pleasure's lying tales alloxed. 
From the bright sun and Bvmg breeze ye stray ; 
And deep in London's gloomy nannts immured. 
Brood o'er your fortune's, freedom's, health's de^ 
O blind of ctuAoe and to yourselves untrue ! *" 
The young grove shoots, their bloom the 

renew, . 

The mansion asks its lord, the swains their niend. 
While he doth riot's orgies haply share, • 
Or tempt the gamester's dark. deatroyinK snare. 
Or at some couruy shrine with slavish incense bend. 

xin. 

And yet fiill oft your anxious tongues complain 
That lawless tumult prompts the rustic throng; 
That the rude village-inmates now disdain / 
Those homely ties which ruled their fethers long. 
Alas, your fethers did by other arts 
Draw those kind ties around their simple hearts. 
And led in other paths their ductile will ; 
By succour, feithxul counsel, courteous cheer. 
Won them the ancient manners to revere, • 
To prize thetr country's peace and heaven's due 
rites fulfil. 

XIV. 

But mark the judgment of experienced Tim«, 
Tutor of nations. Doth light discord tear 
A state ? and impotent sedition's crime ? 
The powers of warlike prudence dwell not there; 
The powers who to command and to obey. 
Instruct the valiant. There would civil sway 
The rising race to manly concord tame ? 
Oft let the marshall'd field their steps unite. 
And in glad splendor brine before their sight 
One oommon cause and dne hereditary feme. 

XV. 

Nor yet be awed, nor yet your task disown. 
Though war's proud votaries look on severe ; 
Thoufdi secrete taught erewhile to them alone. 
They deem profened by your intruding ear. 
Let them in vidn, your martial hope to quell. 
Of new refinements fiercer weapons tell. 
And mock the Ad simplicity, in vain . 
To the time's warfere, simple or refined, 
The time itself adapts the warrior's mind ; 
And equal prowess stul shall ttffial palms obtain. 



XVI. 

Say then; if England's youth. In eadlerdajn. 
On glory's field with wdUtraln'd armlos vied. 
Why anaJl thm now remounoe that g emcww 

praise? . 
Why dread the foreign meroenarylt pdde ?' 
Tho' Val<ds braved young Edward's gentle hand. 
And Albot msh'd on Henxys way-wotn band. 
With Europet chosen^ms in arms renown'd. 
Yet not on Vere's bold archers long they look'd. 
Nor Audley's squires nor Mowtanqr's yeomen 

brook^: 
They saw their standard.feU, and left their monarch 

bound. 

XVII. 

Such were the laurels which your fe&ers won 
Such glory's dictates in their dauntless breast 
— ^Is there no voice that speaks to evexr son f 
No nobler, holier call to You address'd? 
O ! by majestic fireedom, righteous laws. 
By heavenly truths, hj manly reason's cause. 
Awake ; attend ; be indolent no more : 
By ftiendihip, social peace, domestic love, 
Biise; arm; your country's livins safe^ jvove ; 
And train her valiant youth, anoT watoi around 
her shore. 



ODE XII; 



On Recovering from aJUqf Sicknu*. 



In the Country. 1738. 



I. 

THY vodant scenes, O Oonlder's hill, 
Onoe morel seek, a languid guest: 
With throbbing temples and with bnrdan'd hnact 
Once more I wmb my steep aerial way. 
O feithfiil cure of oft.retundng ill. 
Now eaU thy sprightly breezes round. 
Dissolve this rigid cough profeund. 
And bid the springs of life with gentler movement 
play. 

IL 

How gladlv 'mid the dews of dawn 
My weary lungs thy healing gale. 
The balmy west or the fresh north, inhale ! 
How gladly, while my musitig footsteps rove 
Bound the cool orchard or the snnnylawn, 
Awalnd I stop, and look to find 
What shrub perftunes the pleasant wind. 
Or what wild songster charms the Diyada of the 
grove. 

IIL 

Now, ere the morning wnik is done. 
The distant voice of health I hear 
Welcome as bean^ to the lover'* ear. 
*' Droop not, nor doubt of my return," she cries ; 
** Here will I, 'mid the radiant calm ol noon. 
Meet thee beneath yon chesnut bower. 
And lenient on thy bosom pour 
That indolence divine which lulls the earth and 
skies." 

IV. 

The goddess promised not In vain. 
I found her at na favourite time. 
Nor wish'd to breadie in anv softer dime. 
While (half-reclined, half-slumbering as I lay^ 
She hover'd o'et me. Then, among her train 
Of nymphs and zephyrs to my view 
Thy gracious form appear'd anew,* 
Then 'first, O heavenjy Muse, unsee n fiir mangr 
a day. 



Book JL] 



ai 



V. 

In that soft pomp the tuneful maid 
Shone like the golden star of love. 
I saw her hand in careless measures move ; 
I heard sweet preludes dancing on herlvre, 
Whfle my whole frame the sataed sound on^d. 
New sunshine o'er my fkncir springs. 
New colours clothe oitemal timigs. 
4Bd the last glooms of pain and ucklj plaint 
retire. 

VI. 

Gottlder's bill, by thee restored 
Once more to this enliven'd hand. 

My han», which late resounded o'et the land 
The Tofce of glory, solemn and severe, 
My DoKian hup shall now with mild accord 
To thee her Myfiil tribute pay. 
And send a less ambitious lay 
Of friendship and of lore to greet thy master^ 
ear. 

VII. 

For when within thy shady seat 
First from the sultry town he chose. 
And the tired senate's cares, his wish'd repose. 
Then wast thou mine ; to me a happier home 
For social leisure : where my welcome feet. 
Estranged from aU the entangling ways 
In which the restless vulgar strays. 
Through nature's simple patiBs %ith ancient fidth 
might nnm. 

VIII. 

And while around his sylvan scene 

My Dyson led the white-wing'd hours. 
Oft from the Athenian Acadenuc bowers 
Their sages came: oft heard our lingering walk 
The Mantuan music warblins o'er the green: 

And oft did Tnlly's leveveiMl shade, 

Thou^ much tat liberw afraid. 
With us rflettez'd ease or virtuous glory talk. 

IX. 
But other guests were on their way. 
And reach'd ere long their &your'd grove ; 
Even the celestial progeny of Jove, 
Bright Venus with her aU-subdidng son. 
Whose golden shaft most willingly ob^ 
The best and wisest. As they came, 
Glad Hymen wav«d his genial flame, 
And sang their bampf gifts, and praised theh 
spotless iszone. 

X. 

1 saw when through yon fiestive gate 
He led along his dbosen maid, 

^nd to my fHend with smiles presenting said ; 
"Receive that fidrest wealth which heaven as- 
To human fintune. Did thy lonely state [sign'd 

One wish, one utmost hope con&as ? 

Behold, she comes, to adorn and bless ; 
Comes, worthy of thy heart, and eqo^ to thy mind. 



ODE XIII. 

To the AnlhoT qf Menurirt tf fhe Houte qf 
Bnmdenburgh. 1751. 



THE men renown'd as chieft of human racci 

And bom to lead in counsels or in arms. 

Have seldom tum'd their feet from gloryli chase 

^ To dwell with books or court the Muses' charms. 

. Yet, to our eyes, if haply time hath brought 
Some genuine transcript of their calmer nought. 
There still we own the wise, the great, or goiM ; 
And Caesar there and Xenophon are seen. 
As clear in spirit and sublime of mien, 

is en Phazsalian plains, ar by the Assyrian flood. 

B 



II. 

Say thou too, Frederic, was not th!s thy aim f 
Thy vigils could the student's lamp engage, 
Bxcept for this? except that future fiune 
Mi^t read thy genius In the fidihflil page ? 
That if hereafter envy shall presume 
With words irreverent to inscribe thy tomb. 
And baser weeds upon thy i>alms to ning. 
That hence posterity may try thy reign. 
Assert thy treaties, and thy wars explatai. 
And riew in native lights the hero and the Ung. 

,ni. 

O evil foresight and pernicious care J 
Wilt thou indeed abide by tiiis appeal ? 
Shall ire the lessons of diy pen compare 
With private honour or with public zeal ? 
Whence Hben at things divine those darts of scorn •' 
Why are the woes, which virtuous men have borne 
For sacred truth, a prey to laughter given ? 
What flend, what foe of nature urged thy ami 
The Almighty of his sceptre to disarm ? 
1>» push this earth adrift and leave it loose from 
heaven? 

IV. 

T« godlike shades of legislators old, 
Ye who made Rome victorious, Auens wise. 
Ye first of mortals with the bless'd enroll'd. 
Sav, did not horror in yotur bosoms rise, 
Wnen thus by impious vanity impell'd 
A magistrate, a monarch, ye beheld 

, Afihmting civil order's houest bands ? 

Those bands which ye so labour'd to improve ? 
Those hopes and fears of Justice from above. 

Which . tamed the savage world to your divine 
commands? 



ODE XIV. 

The Complaint.^ 

I. 

AWAY! Away! 
Tempt me no more, inmdiouslove 

Thy soothing sway 
Long did my youthful bosom prove : 
At length thy treason is disoem'd. 
At length some dear-bought caution eam'd 
Away! nor hope my riper age to move. 

II. 

I know, I see 
Her merit. Needs it now be shown, 

Alas, tome? 
How often, to myself unknown. 
The gracenil, gentle, virtuous maid 
Have I admired ! How often said. 
What joy to call a heart like hers one's own i 

III. 

But, flattering god. 
O squanderer of content and ease. 

In thy abode 
Will care's rude lesson learn to please ? 
O say, deceiver, hast thou won. 
Proud fortune to attend thy throne. 
Or placed thy friends above her stem decrees? 



-ODE XV. 
On DometHe JUannen. 



[Unfinished.^ 



MEEK honour, female shame 
0! whither,' sweetest offspring of the sky. 

From Albion dost thou ny; ' ' 

Of Albion's daughters once the fevourite 






M 



01IB8. 



{Book II. 



O bcMUy*! only fttend* 
UIm cl^hv plMHing rtrcranoe to insptav; 

Who MUn. bold dedie 
Dost to eilwin and dear afEfccdon tumi 

AloSy of tbeo ftiihi K u 
What JqjTf what podw, what hope can life pretend ? 

II. 

Behpld ; our yontfaa ia vain 
CoDoenUng anptial happiness inqaiie; 

Our maids no more aspire 
The arts of boshftil Hymen to attafai ; 

But with triumphant ejes 
And cheeks impassiTe. as they more alonf. 

Ask homage of the throng. 
The lorer swears that in a hariof s arms 

Are fbuad the self-same charms. 
And worthless and deserted liTes and dies. 

III. 

Behold: uabless'd at home. 
The fiitbcr ofthe cheerless household mooxns : 



The night In vafai ratnma. 
For love and glad content at diataaoe roam ; 

While ne, in whom his mind 
Seeks refuge firom the day's dull taA of cares. 

To meet him she prniares. 
Thro' B(4se and spleen, ana all ttie gamester's ar^ 

A Uftlfst, harasrd heart. 
Where not one tender thought can welcome find. 

IV.. 

'Twas thus, along the shore 
Of Thames, Britannia^ guardian Genius heard. 

From many a ton^ preferr'd, 
Of strife and gritf the fond inTectiTe lore : 

At whidi the queen divine 
Indignant, with her adamantine spear 

like thunder sounding near. 
Smote the red crou upon her silver shield. 

And thus her wrath reveal'd. 
(I watch'd her awfVU words and made them mlae4 



HYMN 

TO THE NAIADS. 




BM»tai»imlltllnIM»PirwlaiUlllllllHll 
m^i ^fc mM liia we t Md ImtBiiyT, 

Tod br IHaSi nkffl'lHnn d( nin 

tta kmd«M£i to ICHM fan awKU 

TWImUMmmmwi UdBH»»lllll 
TuMMIilWiiiircbJMitli »l rt 

_jWm»*«IIHll—.mirfc).Mii— lw>»MJl 

- ^?^[;^. .'"^"[IWI .... 
or UHlm* Mpi &« »• s^ ai, 
tCflii*iidMw^T*^ir»iiJiM«iifOti7 




V™"iOIgj>Pj4~l^™"*» 






^SiHH^jja:^ 




THa KJUA98. 



1BSlZpaMBi&. *baa lUi bit lud 
Wiljtt ■™Kloiii*iboit>~<™ •n« 



nw nMAimid fa Um siuniliii lun 
EfffinitimiJJnnM ffimSnHdi 
T* lat tlia ibim •W tl» J<~2l hm 

G[H biat ii|AB hb teov^Um^h^iiom pu 




wSvi!ll«lli wJmrolUiiM^ vifB UiD unli 
nMllbCBtkipiipHlllIt^ Tlejjiinb^Bd 
FSBpalaf antMllMtliiBigmi! asiioaii 
CT« n ai l ^V j^ iJfcyiMMd -ladt 
WblB%llmftU. Aid, O pnipitiiiu Kimpbb 



jSKSislssr'TMMrfj^'Sd'iSi 






tmA i^MtMRE^SnUuii wild 



INSCRIPTIONS. 



XVaCKXTTZflVS. 



BnlHMli«b>i -Tlih nlftrtjinir 



AFFIUUCHlDaiBai tImnlBllU 
AplmtUtiimuifivlui- - ' 




THE VIRTUOSO. 



In Imitation of Spencer's Style and Stanza^ 



-Videiuas 



Nugari solitos Ptrriut. 



WHILOM by ailver Thames'* gentle stream. 
In London town there dwelt a subtle wight t 
A wbrht of mlcUe wealth, and mickle fiune, 
BoolMeaxn'd and qoahit, a Virtuoso hi|^t ; 
Uncommon things and rare were his delight ; 
From mtuings deep his brain ne'er gotten ease, 
Nor oeaaen & firam studr day nor night; 
Until (advandng onward by degrees) 
He knew whatever treads on earth or air or ae«k 

IL 

He many a creature did anatomise. 
Almost unpeopling water, air and land ; 
Beasts: fishes, Dirds, snails, caterpUlais, fl'es. 
Were laid flill low by his relentless hand, 
That oft with gory crimson was distain'd ; 
He many a dog diettroy'd and many a cat ; 
Of fleas nis bed, ci frogs the marshes drain'd. 
Could tellen if a mite were lean or iat. 
And read a lecture o'er the entrails of a gnat. 

in. 

He knew the raiious modes of anciant times. 
Their arts and fiwhions of each -various guise ; 
Their weddings, flinerals, punishments nnr crimes 
Their strength, their leaxiung, eke and rarities. 
Of old hablluftents each sort and size, 
Mde, female, hi^ and low, to him were known ; 
Each gladiator-dress, and stage disguise,. ' 
With Teamed clakly phra^ he ooiud have shown. 
How the Greek tiinic difier'd from the Roman 
gown. 

IV. 

A curious medalltot, I wot, he was; 

And boasted many a course of ancient coin ; 

Well as his wife's ne knewen every face 

F^m Julius CiBsar down to Constantine. 

For some rare sculpture he would oft ypine, 

(As greensick damoiselles for husbands do) 4 

Ana when obtained, with enraptured eyne 

He'd run it o'er and o'er with greedy view. 

And took and look again, as he would look it through. 

V. 

His rich museum of dimensions frdr. 
With goods that spoke the owner's mmd was fiau^t : 
Things curious, ancient, value-worth and rare. 
From sea and land, from Greece and Rome were 

brough^ 
Which he with migh^ sums of gold had bou^t,-i - 
On these all tydes with jotous ^es he pored. 
And, sooth to sav. himself he neater thought. 
When he bdiela his cabinets ttins stored. 
Than if he'd been of Albion's wealthy dtieB lord. 



VI. 

Here in a comer stood a rich scrutoire 
With many a curiosity replete; 
In seemly order fumish'd every drawer. 
Products of art and nature as was meet; 
Air,pumps and prisms were placed beneath his feet } 
A Memphlon mummy-Ung nung o'er his head. 
Here phials, with live>insects small and great. 
Here stood a tripod of the Pythian maid ; 
Above, a crocodUe difftased a grtUef nl shades 

vn. 

Fast by the window did a table stand. 
Where hodiem and antique rarities^ 
From Egypt. Greece, and Rome, from sea and land. 
Were tmck bespren^ of every sort and tixt; 
Here a Bahaman spider's carcase lies. 
There a dire serpent's golden skin dew shine ; 
Here Indian feathers, fruits, and glittering flies; 
There gums and amber figund bmeath the use. 
The beak of Ibis here, and there an Antonine. 

vin. 

Close at his back, or whispering in his ear. 
There stood a sprite ydeped Phanta^ ; 
Which, whereso'er he went, was always near: 
Her look was wild, and roving was her eye; 
Her hair was deck'd with flowers of 

dye; 
Her glistering robes wen of more various hue 
Than the feir bow that paints the doudy sky. 
Or all the spangled drops of morning dew ; 
Thdz odour changing still at every view. 

IX. 

Yet in this shape all trdet sihe did not stay. 
Various as the chameleon that she bore ; 
Now a grand mouurch with iTcrown of hay. 
Now mendicant in silks and gdden ore ; 
A statesman, now equipt to coase the boar. 
Or cowled monk, lean, feeble and unfed ; 
A down-like lord, or swain erf' country lore ; 
Now scribbling dunce in sacred laurel clad. 
Or papal fether now, in homdy weeds axray'd. 



The wiflht whose brain this phantome's power 

dothfiU, 
On whom she doth with constant care attend. 
Will for a dreadful giant take a mill, 
Or a grand palace in a hog-stye find. 
(From her dire influence me may heaven defend !) 
All things with vitiated sight he spies. 
Neglects his femily, forgets his friend; 
Se»s painted trifles, axM fintastic toys, 
AaA eagerly pursues imaginaiy Joys. 



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THE 



POETICAL WORKS 



OF 



WILLIAM COLLINS. 



yritH 



A BIOGRAPHICAIi SKETCH 



or 



THE AUTHOR. 



LONDON : 
PUBLISHED BY JONES & COMPANY, 

S, ACTON PLACE, KING8LAND ROAD. 

1824. 



THE LIFE 



OF 



WILLIAM COLLINS, 



BY 



DR. JOHNSON. 



WILLIAM COLLINS vas bom at Chichester on 
the twen^-fifth day of December, about 1720. His 
father was a hatter of good reputation. He was 
in 1733, as Dr. Warton has kindly infoormed me, 
admitted a scholar of Winchester College, where 
he was educated by Dr. Burton. His English 
exercises were better than his Latin'. 

He first courted the notice of the public by some 
■verses to a << Lady Weeping," pnbUshed hi " The 
Gentleman's Magazine." 

In 1740 he stood trst In the list of the Schdaxs 
to be received in succession at New College, Imt 
unhappUy there was bo vacancy. He became a 
Commoner of Qaaeu^ CoUqse* probably with a 
scanty maintenaMoe } but was In about half a year, 
riected a Dew^ of Magdalen CdOaget where he 
oontiaued till he had taken a Bachelor's degree, 
and then snddesly left tfa* Univenlty; te what 
reason I know not diat tae told. 

He now (afaost 1744) came to Londtm a literary 
adTenturer, widi many pircject s in his head, and 
very litde mon^ in his pocket. He designed 
aaany works; but his great fknlt was irresolution, 
or the frequent calls of Immediate necessity broke 
his schemes, and suffered him to pursue no settled 
purpose. A man doubtful of his dinner, or trem- 
bling at a creditor, is not much disposed to 
abstracted mentation, or remote inquiries. Ha 
pubUshed proposals tat a History of the Revival 
of lieaming; and I have heard him speak with 
great kindness of Leo the Tenth, and with keen 
resentment of his tasteless successor. But probably 
Dot a page of his history was ever written. He 
planned several tragedies, but he only planned 
them. He wrote now and then Odes and other 
pdems, and did something, however little. 

About this time I fell into his company. His 
appearance'was decent and manly; his knowledge 
eonsiderable, his views extensive, his conversation 
elegant, and hls-disposition cheerful. By degrees 
I gained his confidence; and one day was admit- 
ted to him when he was immured by a bailifiP, 
that was prowling in the street. On this occasion 



recourse was had to the booksellers, who, on the 
credit of a translation ot Aristotle's Poetics, which 
he engaged to write with a laxjge commentary, ad- 
vanced as much money as enabled him to escape 
into the country. He showed me the guineas safe 
In his hand. Soon afterwards his uncle, Mr. Mar- 
tin, a lieutenant-colonel, left him about two thou- 
sand pounds; a sum which CoIUns could soarcely 
think exhaustible, and which he did not live to 
exhaust. The guineas were then repaid, and the 
Ixanslatlon neglected. 

But man is not bom lor happiness. Collins, 
who, while he studied to live, felt no evil but 
poverty, no sooner Hved to ttudy than his life was 
assailed by more dreadful calamities, disease and 
insanity. 

Having fbrmerly written his character, while 
perhaps it was yet more distinctly Impressed upon 
my memory, I shall insert it here. 

" Mr. Collins was a man of extensive literatuxet 
and of vigorous faculties. He was acquainted not 
only with the learned tongues, but with the 
Italian, French, and Spanish languages. He had 
employed his mind chiefly upon works of ficUon, 
and subjects of fiuicy ; and, by indulging some 
peculiar habits of thou^t, was eminently delight- 
ed with those flights of imagination which pass 
the bounds of nature, and to which tlie mind 
ia reconciled only by a passive acquiescence hi 
popular traditicms. He loved fidries, genii, giants, 
and monsters; he delighted to rove through the 
meanders of enchantment, to gaze on the magnifi- 
cence of golden palaces, to repose by the waier-fidls 
of Jilysian gardens. 

** This was, however, the character rather of his 
Inclination than his genius ; the grandeur of wild 
ness, and the novelty of extravagance, was always 
desbred by him, but were not always attained. Yet, 
as diligence is never wholly lost, if-his eSbrts some- 
times caused harshness and obscurity, tii^ like* 
wise produced, in h^ipier moments, sublimity and 
splendor. This idea which he had finrmed of ex- 
cellence, led him to orlsntal fictions and allegorical 



UFB or -VTZft&ZAM COUblVB. 



iBWgel^yi and periuipt, whll* he was intent upon 
Ameriptiaa, he did not ■nflBdoitly coltiTBte aenti- 
mcnt. lOfpoemtaietbepTodnctiauofamindnot 
defleiaat in fln, nor unftiniidicd witli knowledge, 
either of hooka or life, but somewhat obstrneted 
in Its pwyea s by deviation in qoeit of mtstakfn 
beauties. 

'* His morals were pore, and his opinions ploos} 
in a long oontinoance of poverty, and lonK habiti 
of dissipation, it cannot be expected that aaty Gliar< 
aetar should be exactly nnifbim. There is a degree 
of want by wliich tlw ihe e do m of agency is almost 
destroyed; and long association with finrtoitoos 
compankms will at last relax the strictness of truth, 
and abate the ftrvoor of sincerity. That this man, 
wise and virtuous as he was, passed always unen* 
tangled through the snares of li&, it would be 
pr«;]udice and temerity to aflSrm ; but it .may be 
said that at least he preserved the source of action 
unpolluted, that his principles were never shaken, 
that Us distittctions of right and wrong were never 
oonfimnded, and that his &ults had nothing of 
inalignity or design, ibnt proceeded firom some nn- 
' expected pressure or casual temptation. 

" The latter part of his Ufie cannot be remem- 
bered but with pity and sadness. He languished 
some years under that depressiott of mind which 
enchains the Acuities without destroying them, 
and leaves reason the knowledge of right without 
tiie power .of pursuing it. These clouds which 
he perceived gathering on his intellects, he en- 
deavoured to disperse by travel, and passed into 
France; but found himself constrained to yield to 
Us malady, and) returned. H4 was for sometime 
confined in a house of lunatics, and afterwards 
retired to the care of his sister in Chichester, where 
death, in 1756, came to his reliefl 

" After his return firom France, the wrltsr ok 
this character paid him a visit at Islington, where 
he was waiting for liis sister, whom he had directed 
to meet him: there was then nothing of disorder 
discernible m his mind by any but liimself ; but 
Ihe had withdrawn from study, and trevelled with 
no other book than an finglish Testament, such as 



children' carry to school: wlienliis fidend took tt 
into his hand, out of enriodty to see vrfaat oai»> 
panion a Man of Letters had chosen, * I have bat 
onebook,' said Collins, 'but that ia the best.'" 

He was visited at Chichester hi his last iUnesi^ 
by his learned ftiends Dr. Warton and his brotlier ; 
to wliom he qmke-rwith disapprobatian of his 
Oriental Eclogues, as not snffidently expressive 
of Asiatio manners, and called them his Izisli 
Edpgues. He showed diem, at the same tinae, 
an Ode inscribed to Mx. John Home, on the snper- 
stitkns of. the Highlands ; which ttiey dionght 
superior to his other works. 

His disorder was not aUmatlon of mind, but 
general laxity and feebleness, a deficient^ ratiier 
of his vital than intellectnal powers. What he 
spoke wanted neither judgment nor qdzit; but a 
&w minutes exhausted ifaim, so that he was fioeed 
to rest upon the ooneh, till ashortcessatian re stuwd 
his powers, and he was again able to talk with his 
fiormer vigour. 

The approaches of this dreadful malady be began 
to feel soon after his uncle's death ; and with the 
usual weakness of men so diseased, eagerly snatched 
that temporary relief with which the table and the 
bottle flatter and seduce. But his health continn- 
ally declined, and he grew more and more burthen- 
some to himsel£ 

Mr. Collins's first production is added here firwa 
the " Poetical Calendar." 

TO MISS AUR£LIA C ^R, 

On her netfing at her Siater't Weiding. 

CEASE, fidr Auielia ! cease to mourn ; 

Lament not Hannah's happy state : 
Ton may be happy in your tuna. 

And seize the treasure you regiet. 

With Lore united Hymen stands. 
And soAIy whispers to your chamu^ 

** Meet but your lover in my bands. 
You'll find your sister in his anus." 



CONTENTS. 



Page 

TheLifeoftheAnthor iii 

Eelofpiel. ..'.... 1 

.Eclognell. . ...... ib. 

Eclogue III. 2 

Eclogue IV « ib. 

.OdetoPi^, 4 

, Ode to Fear ....... ib. 

, Ode to Simplli^ty 5 

Ode on the Poetical Clunractar . . . ib. 

» Ode written in the year 1746 ... 6 

Ode to Mercy . . ' ib 

Ode to Liberty ib 

Ode to a L&ij, on the death of Colonel Charles 
Bom, in the action of Footent^. Written 

to May, 1745 . . ; . . 7 



Pagt 

Ode to Evening • • 8 

Ode to Peace ib. 

The MannerB.-^n Ode . . . . ib. 

■The Paasiont.— An Ode for Music . . 9 
An Epistle to Sir Thomas Hanmer, on his 

Edition of Shaktpeare's Walks . t . ib. 

»Dirge in Cymbeline ..... 11 

Ode on the Death of Mr. Thomson . . ib. 
Verses writtrai on a Paper wliich contatoed a 

Piece of Bride-cake ib. 

flOde on the popolax Superstitions of the High- 
lands of Scotland ..... ib. 
Supplementary Stanzas on the same, b; Wil- 
liam Erskine> Esq 14 



■( 



ORIENTAL ECLOGUES. 



ECLOGUE I. 

iUim i or, ft* ShepturiPM Moral.-Seenet a VaOey 
near Bagdat.—Time, Uu Mondng. 



maids, attaad yonr poees lajiL 
' shepherds paM their golden days, 
m'd whom Fortune's liand sustains 



*' YE Persian maids, attaad yonr ; 

And hear how St " " "' 

Not ail are bless'- ^ 

With wealth in courts ; nor ail that haunt the 

plains: 
WeU may your hearts beliere the truths I ieU ; 
Tis virtue makes the bliss, where'er we dwell." 

Thus Selim sung, by sacred Truth inspired ; 
Nor pndse, but such as Truth bestow'd, desired : 
Wise in himself, his meaning songs oonvey'd 
Informing morals to the sbephera maid ; 
Or taught the swains that surest bliss to find. 
What groves nor streams bestow, a. Tirtuons 
mind. 

When sweet and blushing, like a Tiigin bride. 
The radiant mom resumed ner orient pride ; 
When wanton gales along the valleys play. 
Breathe on each flower, and bear theb sweets 

away; 
By Tigris* wandering waves he sat, and song. 
Tills useM lesson for the fidr and young. 

" Ye Persian dames," he said, ** to yon bdong— 
Well may they please— the morals of my song: 
No fairer maids, I trust, than you are found. 
Graced with son arts, the peopled world around ! 
The mom, that lights you, to your loves supidies 
Each gentler ray delicious to your eyes : 
For you those flowers her fragrant hands bestow ; 
And yours tiie love that kings delight to know. 
Yet think not these, all beauteous as they are. 
The best, kind blessings lieaven can grant the 

bit ! 
Who trust alone in beauty's feeble ray 
Boast but the worth Baasora's pearls display : 
Drawn from the deep we own thdr surface bright; 
But dark within, they drink no lustrous liglit; 
Sudi are the maids, and such the charms they 

boast. 
By sense unaided, or to virtue lost. 
Self-flattering sex t vour hearts lielieve in vain 
That love shall blind, when onfie he fires the s#ain ; 
Or hope a lover by your faulu to win. 
As spots on ermine beauUfy the skin : 
Who seeks secure to rule be first her care 
Each softer virtue that adorns the fair ; 
Each tender passion man delights to find; 
The loved perfections of a female mind I 

Blsss'd were the days when Wisdom held her 
reign. 
And shepherds sought her on the silent plain ! 
With Truth she wedded in the secret grove ; 
Immortal Truth ; and daughters bless'd their love. 
-4i haste, &ir maids I ye virtues, come away ! 
Sweet Peace and Plenty lead you on your way ; 
The balmy shrub for you shall love our diore. 
By Ind ezoell'd, or Araby, no more. 

Lost to our fields, for so the fiites ordain. 
The dear deserters shall return again. 



Come thou, whose thou^ts as limpid springs are 

clear. 
To lead ttie train, sweet Modesty, appear : 
Here make thy court amidst our rural scene. 
And shepherd sirls shall own thee for tlieir queen : 
With thee be (Sastity, of all afraid. 
Distrusting all ;— a wisie, suspicious maid ;— 
But man the most : — not more the mountain-doe 
Holds the swift &loon for lier deadly foe. 
Cold is her breast, like flowers that drink the 

dew; 
A silken veil conceals her from the view. 
No wild desires amidst thy train be known ; 
But Faith, whose heart is fix'd on one alone : 
DespondinK Meekness, with her downcast ey«s. 
And frien^v Pi^, flill of tender sishs; 
And Love the last : by these your hearts approve ; 
Tliese are the virtues that must lead to love." 

Thus sung the swain ; and ancient legends say 
The maids of Bagdat verified the lay : 
Dear to the plains, the Virtues came along; 
The shepherds loved; and Selim bicss'd his song. 



ECLOGUE IL 

Haatan ; OTp the Camd-driver. — Scene, the 
DeterU—Time, Mid-day. 

IN silent horror o'er the boundless waste 

The driver Hassan with his camels pass'd : 

One cruise of water on his back he bore. 

And Iiis light scrip contain'd a scanty store; 

A £ui of painted fiathers in his hana. 

To guard his shaded face from scorching sand. 

The sultry ^n had gain'd the middle s^. 

And not a tree, and not an herb was nign; 

The beasts with pain their dusty way pursue; 

Shrill roor'd the winds, and dreary was the 

view! 
With desperate sorrow wild, the aiAl^tad man 
Thrice sigh'd ; tlurioe struck his breast; and thus 

bMan: 
*' Sad was the nour. and luckless was the day. 
When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way !" 

Ah!! little thought I ofthe blasting wind, 
The thirst, or pinching hunger, that I find f 
Bethink thee, Hassan, where shall thirst assuage^ 
Whei» fUls tius cruise, his unrelenting rage If 
Soon shall this scrip its precious load resign ; 
Then what but tears and hunger shall be thine ? 

Ye mute companions of my toils, that bear 
In all my griefr a more than equal share ! 
Here, where no springs in murmurs break away. 
Or moss-crown'd nrantains mitigate the day. 
In vain ye hope the green delights to Imow 
Which plains more bless'd, or verdant -valet be* 

stow: 
Here rocks alone, and tasteless sands axe fbnnd ; 
And faint and sickly winds fbr ever.howl around.. 
" Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day. 
When first firom Schlrax' walls I bent my way !"* 






Oft to Ibv Auk 1 vltv Hi vtinMd A« : 
™* b« pilt ■>nBli» to Ummurew nlAt, 



ECLOGUE III. 



Tarn, 04 BtmUg. 




^Imilill— ■illlili|1in'ili 









6ha tuo Its nxuKh. ud MitikB ote«L ' 
" B> Irnj niuh AtiiiinlJUitai ■undi 
And <m Ongtaa Bald Ua Aha linf !■ 



BdUwUfliKtni 



()o Inn da iliiiBil MM aid dtaHwd'ninlD . 
Wkh laT.<l^|^i^^iiidM?AMHM(l> I 



Hir niddl UlMll bH npiM, • dMHU hDHI ! 
EkIi bun a endl, HknnlTii IMT Imd : 

Anda^dwSMi luS^ Abn lind!- 






Asd QDU bul iintliB hwniUiinSl^Ildatoii 
W^ UzDe Hit mm badi^l b« li^iB^^ 
Std, o'er lb* dflwfc l*g bntfu — ■—'—-"■ "-^ 
nniin oOdMng 6^ uddai 
FHt H tfTejpTM'dlhTdTfligh 



fd IhdT OifhVl^lJHi 



• HodHb miTsT i#Mi 









TlwMlaifllVil.oi 






ODES 



ODE TO FIT7. 



O THOU, «he friend of man aadni'd. 
With Uimj hands Ul^ounda toUnd, 

Ana chaxm his firantic wo : 
Wh«Q ftnt Dfstrtai, wHb dagger keen. 
Brake frith to waste his desODed scai^ 

HiswUdnnsatadfbel 

By Pella'k* baird. a magic name. 

By all the grleTs his tfaonght could tnme, 

RaMive my humble rite : 
Long, Pi^, let the nations view 
Thy sky-worn robes of tenderest blM^ 

And eyes of dewy li^t I 

But whexenM need I waiwlw wine 
To old IlisBus' distant side, 

Desoted stream, and mute ? 
WOA Amn f too hu lieani thy strains, 
. And echo, 'midst ihy native plains, 

Been sooOied by Pityi lute. 

There first the wren in myrtles shed 
On gentlest Otway*s infSsnt liead. 

To him thy cell was shown ; 
And while he sung the female Iwart, 
With youth's soft notes unspoU'd by art. 

Thy turtles mix'd their own. 

Come, Pity, come, by fimcy's aid. 
E'en now my tfaooghts, vdenting maid. 

Thy templrs pnde design : 
Its southern site, its truth complete. 
Shall raise a wild enthusiast heat 

In all who Tiew the shrine. 

There Picture's toils shall well relate. 
How chance, or hard involTing &te. 

Or mortal bliss prevail r 
The bnsUn'd Muse shall near her stand, 
' ing prompt her tender hand 
^itn eadi disastrous tale. 



•^1 



There let me oft, letiied by day 
In dreams of paauon melt away, 

AUowUirith diee to dweU t 
There waste the moomftil lamp of nigh^ 
TU^ Virgin, thou acsin deUflht;, 

1% hear a J^tiih sheU. 



ODE TO FEAR. 

THOV. to whom fhe worid unknown. 
With all its shadowy shapes, is slu»wn; 
Who seest, apoall'd. the unreal scene. 
While Fancy ufts the veil between : 

Ah Fear! ah firantic Fear I 

I see, I see thee near. 
I know thy hurried step ; thy haggard eye ! 
Like thee I start; like thee disoKler'd fly. 
For lo, what monsters in tiiy train appear ! 

* Euripides, of whom Aristotle pronounces, on 
a comparison of him with Sophocles, that he was 
the greater master of the tender pasdons, W 
T(«y<»afTffef. 

f The river Amn runs by the TlUase in SttSSHC 
where Otway had his birth. ^^ 



Pamw, whose limbs of giant mould 
What mortal eye can fif d htiuAd f 
Who stalks his round, a hideous fbcm. 
Howling amidst the midnight storm; 
Or throws him on the ridgy steep 
Of some loose hanging rock to sleep : 
And with him thouswd phantoms Jdn'd, 
Who prompt to deeds accursed the mind 
And those, the fiends, who, near allied. 
O'er Nature's wounds, and wrecks, preside ; 
Whilst Venseanoe, in the lurid air. 
Lifts her rea arm, exposed and bare : 
On whom that raventng * brood of Fate 
Who lap the blood of sarrow, wait : 
Who, Fear, this ghastly train can see. 
And look not madly wild, like thee ? 

SPODE. 

« 

In earliest Greece, to thee, with partial choice. 
The grief-full Muse address'd her infant toatgne ; 

The maids and matron's on her awful voice. 
Silent and pale, in wild amaxement hoqg. 



Yet he, die bard f who first Invoked thy i 
Disdain'd in Marathon its power to fieet : 

For not alone he nuned the poet's flame. 
But reach'd from Virtue's hand the pamofi staei. 

But who is he whom later garland's grace ; 

Who left a while o'er Hvbla's dews to rove. 
With trembling eyes thy dreary steps to trace. 

Where thou-and furies shared the belefiil grove I 

Wrapp'd in thy cloudy veQ, th' incestnoosf queen 
Sigh'd the sad call \ her son and husband heard, 

'When once alone it broke the silent scene. 
And he the wretch of Thebes no mare appeaVd. 

OFear, I know thee by my throbbing heart; 

Thy withering power inmred each mournful line : 
Though gentle Pity claim ner mingled part. 

Vet alfthe thunders of the scene ai* thine I 

ANTI8TE0PHE. 

Thou who such weary lengths hast paas'd. 
Where wilt thou res^ mad Nymph, at last ? 
Say, wilt thou shroud in hanntea cell 
Where gloomy Rape and Murder dwell ? 
Or, in some haUow*d aeat, 
'Gainst which the big waves beat. 
Hear drowning seaman's cries, in tempests brouaht ? 
Dark power, with shudderuig meek snbmmed 
thought. 

Be mine to read the visions old 
Which thy awakening bards have told ' 
And. lest thou meet my blasted view, ' 
Hold each strange tale devoutly true; ' 

• finding to die snmEfoc^xrM;; Of So^wdes. 
See the Electra. 

t Eschylns. f Jocasta. 

See the (Edip. Colon. ofSophecleit 



In tt« IhgeSltaw^ J^ ^S a . 
ThvJf £^d bBdi pcnulued Ltawi 
AndnbUm liwii, ftou fin^ lln, 

O Ibin >|UH ■?•«> lui P««rd 
fUtba igiU Ibf bia dni, ' 



S^^ diu ittud^d^**"^ 
W^ liii|« ^ mwlc (iidbi nB, 









assrfc> 



Id vUbMlwltfknnL Tpu^Uj I 
Tboqflfi bnun cnJI'd Uu vml 



SS'ofKS^Sju. 



I vldapird iftll liad IMIM Iht Hirttiit bud. 




VKh Bun « mv from HiArt i^Mut Hngu. 

•KSiaisiSs'™' 



ODJS 

WrUteH in the begitming qfOu gear 1746. 

HOW sleep the brave who sink to Test, 
Bj all their countrr's wishes bless'd ! 
When Spiinf , with-dewy fingers coW, 
lUtoms to deck their hallow'd mould. 
She there shall dress a sweeter sod 
Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. 

By frirr hands tfaebr kneU -is nmg ; 
Bt forms nnseen their dirse is sung; 
There Honour comes, a pilgriiti gray. 
To biess the turf that wraps their clay ; 
And Freedom shaU a while repab:. 
To dwdl a weeping hermit there i 



ODE TO MERCT. 

ST&OPHB. 

O THOU, who sitt'st a smiling bride 

By ▼alonz's arm'd and airful ude, 
OenUest of sky-bom forms, and best adoxed ; 

Who oft with songs, divine to hear 
Winn'st from hU fatal grasp the spear. 
And hid'st in wreaths of flowers his bloodless sword 

Thou who, amidst the deathful field. 

By godlike chiefs alone beheld. 
Oft with thy bosom bare art found. 
Pleading for him the youth who sinks to ground : 

See, Mercy, see with pure and loaded hani^. 

Before thy sbrine my country's genius stands. 
And decks thy altar stiU, though pierced with 
many a wound I 

AVTI8T&0PHE. 

When he whom even our joys provoke. 

The fiend of naturs join'd his yoke, 
And msh'd in wrath to make our isle his prey ; 

Thy form, from out thy sweet abode, 

O'ertook him on his blasted road. 
And ttopp'd his wheels, and look'd his rage away. 

I see recoil his sable steeds. 

That bore him swifl to savage deeds, 
Thy tender melting eyes they own ; 
O maid, for aU thy love to Britain shown. 

Where Justice bars her iron tower. 

To thee we build a roseate bower. 
Thou, thoa shalt rule our queen, and share our 
monarch's throne. 



ODE TO LIBERTY. 

# 

STROPHE. 

WHO shall awake the Snartan file. 

And call in solemn sounos to life. 
The vouths, whose locks divinely spreading. 

Lice vernal hyacinths in sullen hu6. 
At once the breath of fear and virtue shedding. 

Applauding freedom loved of old to view ? 
What new Alceus, * feincy-bless'd, 
Shall dug the«w(ird, in myrtles dress'd. 



' A"'"!'"!; to that beautiful fragment of AIcsus. 
£» fW^TW xXtiii TO ^t^ ^i*f«t 

Nfjff'Mff V ty ftMxat^on ffX ^attrtv uixt. 

Clerm^ A»fAohoe xxt A^$e'TO<yUTfint 
Or AdriteufK «» Otfrietis, 
AyS{» TU^etvffiv Ivrct^x.'^ Uceutn^j. 
Ai/ r^Aw xXi»e M'fiTcu »«r mo*, 
itXaff AffAtit xeu A^tarvyurmf. 



At Wbdom'sAhrine awhile its flame ooncMlinf. 
( What«]dace so fit to eeal « deed xenown'd ?) 

Till dieiher brightest lightnings round Tevealiag, 

It leap'd in gloty forth, and dealt her promptea 
wouxid! 
O goddess, in that fiedlng hour 
When most its sounds would court thy ears, 

Let'uot my shell's misguided power* . 
E'er draw uty sad, thy mindfiil tears. 
No, Freedom, no, I wiU not tell 
How Rome, before thy weeping &ce. 
With heaviest sound, a giant-statue, fell, 
Push'd tar a irild and artless race 
From off its wide ambitious base, 
When Time his northern sons of spoil awoke. 
And all the blended work of strength and grace, 
. With many ajrude repeated stroke. 
And many a barbarous yell, to thousand oagmenta. 
broke. 



EPODE. 

Tet, even where'er the least appeax'd, 
Th' admiring world thy hand revered ; 
Still, 'midst the scatter'd states around. 
Some rrannants of her strength were foandT; 
They saw, I7 what escaped the storm. 
How wonderous rose her perfectifbrm i 
How in the great, the labour'd whole. 
Each mlgh^ master pour'd his soul ! 
For sunnv Florence, seat of art. 
Beneath her vine* preserved a part. 
Till tlu^,t whom Science loved to name, 
(O who could fear it ?) quench'd her 

flame. 
Andlo, an humbler relic laid 
In jealous Fisa's olive shade ! 
See small Marino % Joins4he theme 
Though least, not last in thy esteem : 
Strike, louder strike th' ennobling strings 
To those, i whose 1 merchant soaa were 

kings;' 
To him, I who, deck'd with pearly pride. 
In Adrla weds his green-hair'd brioie ; 
Hail port of glory, wealth, and pleasure. 
Ne'er let me chrage this Lydian measure : 
Nor e'er her former pride relate. 
To sad Liguria's Y bleeding state. 
Ah no ! more pleased thy haunts I seek. 
On wild Helvetia's** mountains bleak : 
(Where, when the favour'd of thy choice. 
The daring archer heard thy voice ; 
Forth firom his ^yrie roused in dread. 
The ravening eagle northward fled.) 
Or dwell in willow'd meads more near. 
With those ft to whom thv stork is dear : 
Those whom the rod of.Alva bruised. 
Whose crown a British oneen %% refused.! 
The magic works, thou uel'kt the strains. 
One houer name alone remains ; 
The peidfect spell shall then avail. 
Hail, njmj^, adored \^ Britahi, baO ! 

AMTISTROPHE. 

Beyond the measure, vast of thought, 
The works, the wizard time has wrou^t : 

The Oaul, 'Oa hdd of anUque story. 
Saw Britain Unk'd to his now adverw strand,^ } 



* Ml} /tM} fwvns Kvyetfus^ » Tfmx^oev vymyt 

Ai}»i* Calllmach. T/uvfl; us Ai)/Cr6«)r{«. 

t The famUy of the Medici. 
1 The little republic of San Marinow 
( The Venetians. | The Doge of Venice. 

f Genoa. ** Switzerland. 

\\ The Dutch, among whom tfaereare vet^ aevvre 
penalties to those who are con-victed of killmg this 
bird. They are kept tame in almost all their 
towns, and partfculariy at the Hague, of the arms 
of which th^ make a part. The common people 
of Holland are said to ehtertain a snperstitiAis 
sentimrat, th&tif the whole species of them should 
become extinct, they should lose their liberties, 
il Queen Elizabeth. 

% \ "ftis tradition is mentioned bv several of oor old 
historians. Some naturalists too have endeavaored 



1 
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\ 






TiKltnU iJh« ••■q^r' 






vulv tojrttflbgrfun'd mlPd, 



WblM RDDO^'SjMflKHutSlU m 



^'jUi'l nidi 111' it^SSiS^ 
"sbltUlullKj^SlTB. 



ibfwd in) piU £!£'£^?>Sm Hi, 



ud optHd h^ pmJmi to bto, lnil4urFw«id ._, r i 



8 



ODE TO EVENING. 



IF aught of oateo tUm, or pastoral toag, 
Maj hope, O peiudTe Ere, to aoothe thine ear, 

Llie thy own brawling iinlngs. 

Thy tpiingSy and dying ii^alea ; 

O nymph xetevfed, while now the tnl|^t>hair'd 

son. 
Sits in yon western tent, whose cloudy skirts, 

'Hlth btede ethereal wove, 

O'erhang his wavy bed : 

Now air is hosh'd, sare where the weak-eyed bat. 
With short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing. 

Or where the beetle winds 

His small but sullen horn. 

As oft he rises 'midst the twili|^t path. 
Against the pilgrim borne in heedless hum : 

Now teach me, maid composed. 

To breathe some soften'd strain. 

Whose numbers, stealing thro' thy darkening rale. 
May not unseemly with its stillness suit ; 

As, mudng slow, I hail. 

Thy genial, loTcd return ! 

For when thy figlding-star arising shows 
His bhIt circlet at hn warning lamp 



> Rijj circlet at hn warning lamp 
xne fragrant Hours, and ElTeS' 
Who slept in buds the day. 



And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with 

And sheds theneshenlag dew, and, lovelier still. 
The pensive Pleasures sweet, 
Ptepare thy shadowy car. 

Then let me rove some wild and heathy scene ; 
Or find some ruin, "midst its dreazy deUs, 

Whose walls more awftajl nod 

By thy zeUgions ^eams. 

Or, if chiU blustering winds, or driving rain, 
Prevent my willing feet, be mine Oie hut. 

That, from the mountain's side, 

Views wilds, and swelling floods. 

And hamlets brown, and dim*discover'd spires. 
And heais Oieir simple bell, and marks o'er all 

Thy dewy fingers draw 

The gradual ausky veil. 

While Spring shallponr his showers, as oft he wont 
And bathe thy breathing tresses, meekest Eve ! 

While Summer loves to sport 

Beneath thy Ibigering lignt ; 

While sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves. 
Or Winter, yelling through the troublous air. 

Affrights thy shrii^ng train. 

And rudely rends thy robes ; 

So long, regardful of thy quiet rule, 

Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace, 

Thy gentlest influence own. 

And love thy fiivourite name ! 



ODE TO PEACE. 

THOU, who bad'st fhy turtles bear 
Swiffc erom his grasp thy g(dden hair. 

And sought'st thy native skies ; 
When War, by vultures drawn from far. 
To Britain bent his iron car. 

And bade his storms arise ! 

Tired of his rude, tyrannic sway. 
Our vonth shaU ftz some festive day, 

llis sullen shrines to bum : 
But tfaon who hear*st tilie turning spheres. 
What sounds may charm thy partial ears. 

And gain thy bless'd return ! 



O Peace, tin injoied rabes np-Und I 
Orise! an«f leave not one bdiind 

Of all thy beamy trsin ! 
The Britisn Lion, goddess sweet. 
Lies stretch'd on earth to kiss thy teet. 

And own thy holier reign. 

Let others court thy trai^^ient smile. 
But come to grace thy westom isle. 

By warlike Honour led ! 
And, while arflond her ports rc>)oU», 
While all her sons adore thy choice. 

With him fbi ever wed t 



THE MANNERS.-^N ODE. 



FAREWELL, for clearer ken design'd. 
The dim-discover'd tracts of mind > 
. Truths which, firom action's path retired 
My silent search in vain required 1 
No more my sail tiiat deep explores ; 
No more I search those magic shores ; 
Wliat regions part the world of soul. 
Or wheiice thy streams. Opinion, roU : 
If e'er I round such fidzy field. 
Some power impart the spear and shield 
At which the wizard passions fly ;' 
By which the giant Follies die ! 

Farewell the porch whose roof is seen ' 
Arch'd with th' enlivening^Uve's green : 
Where Science, prack'd in tissued vest. 
By Reason, Pride, and Fancy dress'd. 
Comes, like a bride, so trim array'd. 
To wed with Doubt in Platoi's shade. 

Youth of the quick uncheated si^t 
Thy walks. Observance, more invite ! 
thou who lov'st that ampler range. 
Where life's wide prospects round thee change. 
And, with her mingling sons allied, 
Throw'st the prattUng page aside. 
Tome, in converse sweet, impart 
To read in man the native heart ; 
To leam, where Science sure is found. 
From Nature as she lives around ; 
And, gazing oft her mirror true. 
By turns each shiftinglmage view ! 
Till meddling Art's oiBciocs lore 
Reverse the ^ssons tanj^t before ; 
Alluring from a safer rule. 
To dream in her enchanted school : 
Thou. Heaven, whate'er of great we boast. 
Hast bless'd this social science most. 

Retiring hence to thoughtful cell. 
As Fancy breathes her potent spell. 
Not vain she finds the cnarmful task. 
In pageant quaint, in motley mask ; 
Behold, be&Hre her musing ores, 
The countless Manners nnind her rise ; 
While, ever varying as they pass. 
To some Contempt applies her glass ; 
With these the white-robed maids combine ; 
And those the laughing Satyrs Join ! 
But who is he whom now she views. 
In robe of wild contending hues ? 
Thou by the Passions ntureied ; I greet 
The comic sock that binds thy feet ! 
O Humour, thou whose name is known 
To Stain's fevour'd isle aloce : 
Me too amidst thy band admit ; 
There where the young-eyed healtiifrd Wit, 
(Whose jewels in his crisped hair 
Art placed each other's beams to share ; 
Whom no delimits fhim thee divide) 
In laughter loosed* attends thy side ! 

By old Miletus,* who so long 
Has ceased his love-inwoven song } 
By all you tau^t the Tuscan maids. 
In changed Italia'a modem shades; 



* Alhiding to the Milesian tales, some of the 
earliest romances. 






The SporU ud I UiU bwr ij 






1^JS^\ 






uru^lmii «»J «ij^ jl|l» Mnhwa 



sSSSSc 



KurS'phi^iwHn 



Btpv iMDML'taiS 



Tl»»i ilnrrhillM omM WMHo jamT^ 
Fk, Ed tr nun, aU •» UBaU Id LoiT ; 



NinAT tdd, DidliZriii^llturSn : 



( ISiimt ly MM of gMBp 



™ ln»™im" PSmHl > 



'sa-si'sas'Ja 



Wikri BUigJuiTkn, •MlUl unroll 
MUme ana i<bWiB bbhSii ilKi 

Vcl *dl I toUlM . liiihiwU^M. tl^ 

Till Jwji B tm y [» Mm^*hI|<ii ■« • 

WlmiW wttim, ^FuKj ckun-d, w* In 



Drni'diHWhukd, dw voodi ud T*Dn« HoOv ; 
And fip*^ diffoij?! d«ki tk* awdwaM W*^ 

lM»nmlialijmiMUb««ilaMn»i<. 



BunAdia idcHra to adMMhta* aU E 
Wlalim&iiiiia diaiiijui D°>fli' riH fi«a a> 

Wbaa bnrildiu Naldra UvH hi ««vj Una : 
CJkauc ud loUa^ dw bh^ ll^uadni. 
Siaal low diidah Bd sUdli aiM ani. 
And Ma vbn jAihoBf,t iBHn ^nwl, 
eawifc Uic pli TiUca iftta ctethiTlHiJ ! 




OITBB. 



II 



DIBOE IN CYMBELINE. 

Song by Guiderius and Arrimgiu orer Fidele, 
suppoaed to be dead. 

TO fkir Fidele*s gnasy tomb 

Soft maida and villase hinds shall bring 
Bach openine sweet ofearHect bloom. 

And rifle all the biealfaing spring. 

No vailing ghost shall daxe appear 
To yex wRh shrieks his qufet gran ; 

But shepherd lads assemble here. 
And melting virgins own their love. 

No wither-d witch shall here be seen : 
, No gobUns lead their nightly crew : 
The female fiiys shall haunt the green. 
And drecB thy grave with pearly dew ! 

The redbreast oft, at eTatins hours. 

Shall kindly lend his Utde aid, 
^i?* hoary n»oss, and gathefd flowers. 

To deck the ground where thou art laid. 

When howling winds, and beating rain. 
In tempests shake the sylvan cSl ; 

Or 'midst the chase, on every plain. 
The tender thought on thee shall dwell ; 

Each lonely scene shall thee restore ; 

ENir thee the tear be duly shed. 
Beloved, tiU life could charm no more. 

And moum'd, till Pity's self be dead. 



ODE 

f 

On the 2>mA qfMr. Thomson. 

The Scene of the following Stanzas is suppoaed to 
lie on the Thames, near Richmond. 

IN yonder grave a Druid lies. 

Where slowly winds the stealing wave ! 

The year's best sweets shall duteous rise. 
To deck its poe^s sylvan grave ! 

In yon deep bed of whispering reeds 
His aizy harp* shall now be laid; 
TlMfbe, whoeefieart in sorrow bleeds, 
. May love through lift the soothii^; shade. 

llien maids and youths shall Mngerliere ; 

ci, ,, » IT***^* **• •«»«>« at distance swell. 
Shall sadly seem in Pity's ear 

To hear the woodland pilgrim's knell. 

Kemonbnnce oft ahaU hannt the shore, 

* 'Y*'"™ Thames in summer wreaths is dress'd: 
And OR suspend the dashing oar. 
To bid hjs gentle spirit rest ! 

^nd, oft as ease and health retire 

To breezy lawn, or forest deep. 
The friend shaU view yon whitening f spire 

And 'mid the varied landscape weep. 

But thou who own'st that earthly bed. 

Ah ! what will every dirge avail ! 
Or tears which Love and Pfty shed. 

That mourn beneath the gliding sail ! 

Y^ lives tiiere one whose heedless eye 

iv7»K*^,"'**™ *y pate shrine glimmering near ! 
With him, sweet Bard, may Fancy die ; 
And 303 desert the blooming year. 

But thou, lorn stream, whose sullen tide 
No sedge-crown"d Sisters now attend. 

Aow waft me flnom tbe.green hill's side 
Whose cold turf hides the buried friend . 



•^^ ""^.ft? ^^ ▼alleys fiide ; 

Dun Nl|^t has TaU'dTthe solemn view ! 
YetMice again, dear parted shade. 

Meek Nature's child, again adieu ! 

"^bc genial * meads, aaaign'd to bless 
Thy life, shall mourn my early doom ; 

There hinds and shtfpherd-girls stiall dress. 
With simple hands, thy rural tomb. 

l«ng. teing, thy stone and pointed clay 
Shall melt the musing Briton's eyes ; 

O ! vales, and wild woods, shall he say, 
la yonder grave your Druid Ues * 



VERSES 

Written on a Paper mUeh contained a Pieee cf 
Bride-otdce, 

YE curious hands, that hid frmn vulgar eyes. 
By search pra£sne shall find this hailow'd 
cake. 

With virtue's awe forbear the sacred prize. 
Nor dare a theft, for love and pity's sake • 

This precious relic, form'd by magie power, 
Beneath the shepherd's haunted pillow laid. 

Was meant by love to charm the silent hour. 
The secret present of a matchless maid. 

The Cyprlaa queen, at Hymen's fond request. 
Each nice ingredient cbote with happiest art; 

Fears, sighs, and wishes of th' enamour'd breast. 
And pains that please, are mix'd in every part. 

With roOT hand the spicy fruit she brought. 
From Paphian hills, and ttdx Cytheiea's isle ; 

And teraper'd sweet with these the melting 
thought. 
The kiss ambrosial, and the yielding smile. 

Aqddguous looks, that scorn and yet relent, 
• Denials mild, and firm, unalter'd truth ; 
Relflctant pride, and amorous faint consent. 
And meeting ardours, and ezultiqg youth. 

Sleep, wayward god I hath swom, while* these 
remain. 

With flattering dreams to dry his nightly tear. 
And cheeriul Hope, so oft invoked in vain, 

With fiOry songs shall soothe his pensive ear. 

If, bound by vows to Friendship's gentle side. 
And fond of soul, thou hop'st an equal grace. 

If youth or maid thy joys and gri^ divide, 
O, much entreated, leave thb fiital place ! 

Sweet Peace, who long bath shunn'd my plaintive 

Contents at length to bring me short delight, 
Thv nreless steps may scare her doves away. 
And grief with raven note usurp the night. 



bnliJd**'**"**^ Church, m which Thomson was 



V ODE 

On the popular SuperatUion* of the Highlanit <^ 
Scotland; conMored Oi the tvlifect of Poetry. 

Inscribed to Mr. John Hoone. 

HOME ! thou retum'st from Thames, whose 
Naiads long 
Have seen thee lingering with a fond delay, 
'Mid those soft friends, whose hearts, some future 
day. 
Shall meh, perhaps, to hear thy tragic song.f 

* Mr. Thomson resided in the neidibourhocd rf 
Richmond some time before his death^ 

t How truly did Collins predict Hoire's trai;ic 
powers! 



IS 



ti«k iwC vamlndftil of that cvniUl joath* 

Wt^am, toMHhklwT'd, tikw kaVst by Lavant's 

T««ether let lu with him lastiBC truth, 

And Jcy untainted, vith his destined bride. 
Uo! nor regaidleM, while tlMM numbers boost 

My ahort-liTed bliiS, foget my social name ; 
0ttt thinic, fiur off, how, on the southern coast 

r met thy friendship with an equal flame I 
Fresh to that soil thou torn'st, whoe every vale 

Shall prompt the Poet, and his song demand; 
To thee thy copious suhjects ne'er shall ftil ; 

Thou necd'st but take thy pencil to thy hand* 
A ud paint what all believe, wim ownthyfienial land. 

There, must thou wake perforce thy Doric quill ; 

'Tls Fancy's land to which thou setftt thy feet ; 

Where still, 'tis said, the fiiiry people meet. 
Beneath each birken shade, on mead or hill. 
There, each trim lass, that skims the milky store. 

To the swart tribes their creamy bowI» ailotf ; 
By night they sip it round the cottage door. 

While airy minstrels warble Jocund notes. 
There, every herd, by sad experience knows 

IIow, wmg'd with fiite, their elf-shot arrows fly 
When the sick ewe her summer food foregoes. 

Or, stretdi'd on earth, the heart-smit beiftfs lie. 
Such airy beings awe th' untutorVl swain : 

Nor thou, though leam'd, bis h<mieUer tboughte 
neglect; 
Let thy sweet muse the rural fidth sustain; 

These are titie themes of simple, sure effect. 
That add new conquests to her boundless reign. 
And All, with double force, her heart-commanding 
strain. 

E'enjret pnserred, how often mayst thou hear. 

Where to the pole the Boreal mountains run. 

Taught by the fiither to his listening son, 
Strange lays, whose power had charm'd a Spenser's 
At eiwry pause, before thy mind possess'd, [ear. 

Old Kunic bards shall seem to rise around. 
With uncouth lyres, in many-eolour'd vest. 

Their matted hair with boiighs fontastic crown'd : 
Whether tho* bid'st the well'taught hind repeat 

The cfaond dhge, that mourns some chieftabi 
brave. 
When every shrieking maid her bosom beat. 

And strew'd witii choicest herbs his scented grave! 
Or whether sitting in the shepherd's shiel,t 

Thou heer^t tome sounding tale of war's alarms ; 
When at the bugle's call with fire and steel. 

The sturdy clans pour'd forth their brawny 
swarm^ 
And hostile brothers met, to prove each other's arras. 

Tis thine to sing, how. fhtming hideous spells. 
In SkyeTs lone isle, the gifted wizard-seer. 
Lodged In the wintery cave with Fate's fell i 

Or in the depth of Uist's dark forest dwells : 
How they, whose si^t such dreary dreams en- 

With their own vision dt astonish'd droop. 

When, o^er the watery strath, or quaggy moss, 
They see the gliding ghosts unbodied troop. 

Or, if in sports, or on the festive green. 
Their destined giajace some fated youth descry. 

Who now, perhaps/ in lusty vigour seen, 
And rosy health, shall soon lamented die. 

For Uiem the viewless forms of air obey ; 
Their bidding heed, and at their beck repair : 

They Imow what spirit brews the stormful day. 
And heartless, oft like moody madness, stare 
To see the phantom train their secret work pre- 
pare. 

To monajrchs de«?,t wme hundred miles astray. 
Oft have they seen Fate give the fatal blow ! 
The seer, in Slqre, ihrielt'd as the blood did flow. 

When headless Charles warm on the scaffold lay ! 



* A Gentleman of 'the name of Barrow, who 
introduced Home to Collins. 

\ A summer hut, built in the high part of the 
moutitains, to tend their flocks in the warm season, 
when the pasture is fine. 

t The flflh stanza, and the half of the sixth, in 
Dr. Cartyle's copy, prin|ed in the lirst volume of 
the *< Transactions''^ of the H<>yal Society of Edin- 
boiKh, being deficient, have been supplied b^ Mr. 
.Viackeazle , whose lines are here annexed, for the 



Am Bonw threw his wnaff Amwa* inttb. 
In dM'tfrst year of the ntst George's reign. 

And battles niged in welkin of the Horth, 
They nwunrd in air, (UI, fen rebellion slain ? 

And as, oc late, th^J^y'd in Preston's fight, 

Saw, at sad FalkM, ail their hopes near ctown'd ! 

They raved ! divining, throng their 



Pale, 



i Cull 



red Culloden, 
drown'd! 



where these hopca were 



* By yomigAurora* Collins undonbtedly meant 
the first appearance of the northern lights, which 
happened altout the year 1716 ; at least. It is moat 
highly probable, firom this peculiar circumstanoe, 
that no ancient writer whatevor has taken any 
notice of-them, nor even any one "i^f*", prevfoiu 
to the above period. 

f Seoondifiij^t isflieterm that is used Sat ttie 
divination of t&e ffij^Uanders. 



. spear. 



purpose of comiwrison, and to do Justice to the 
elegant author or the Man of Feeling. 

** Or on some bellying rock that shades the deep. 

They view the lund signs that cross the skv. 

Where in the Vest, the brooding tempests Ue ; 
And hear the first, feint, rustling pennons sweep. 
Or in the arched cave, where de^ and daik 

The broad, unlwoken billows heave and swell. 
In horrid musings wrapp'd, they sit to mark 

The labouring moon ; or list the mi^tty yell 
Of that dread s^it, whose gigantio form 

The seer's entruioed eye can well survey, 
Throivh the dim air who guides the driving 
storm. 

And points the wretehed baxk its destined prey. 
Or him who hovers on his flagging wring. 

O'er the dire whirlpool, that, in ocean's waste. 
Draws instant down whate'er devoted thing 

The falling breese within its reach iiath place* 
The distant seaman hears, and flies widi trembling 
haste. 

Or, If on land the fiend exerts his sway. 
Silent hb broods o'er quicksand, bog, or ten, • 
Far fkom the sheltering roof and hanats of men. 

When wltehed darkness shuts the eve of day. 
And shrouds each star that wont to cheer the 
night; 

Or, if the drifted snow perplex the way. 
With treacherous jBlenn he lures die feted wlj^t. 

And leads him floundering on and quite astray.' 

• Shortly after these lines by Ilir. Madcenxie had 
been published, the following were nrednced; 
which. iPJUiy leaders probably will think have at 
least as much of ColUns's jaMsaam in them : 

'' For oft when Eve hath spread her dus^ veil. 
And hid each star that wont to cheer the 
night. 

In some deep ffen remote from human sight. 
The griesly wizard his associates hail. 
There at the thrilling verse, and charmed spell. 

Fantastic shapes and direful shadows throng; 
Night's sober ear piercing with hideous yell. 

While in the goblin round thev troop alone. 
" Thraice each betakes him to his several toU ; 

To dive, to fly, to ride the wintery blast. 
To dig the mine, to cleave the church-yard soii. 

Or rake the bottom of the watery waste. 
Each powerful drug, with more than mortel sidll. 

Where'er boitow'u, or hid firom searching; eye. 
Selecting heedfhl of their taskeils will : 

Nor cease their labours till the dawn descrr 
Their hated, impious work, and reddens sill the 
sky. 

*' Nor wilt thou leave ibr other bards to sing. 
The ruthless spirit of the angry flood ; 
How, at gray eve, in fell and crafty mood. 

O'er fen and lake he shakes his foggy wing *■ 



Or when the curfew with his sullien note. 

Unchains to roam the earth, each eUtai sprite, 

Lilte some urear lamp, firom out the quaggy moat. 
The fiend shines forth, to lure th' mcantiou* 
Wight." 



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THE 



POETICAL WORKS 



OP 



THOMAS GRAY. '^ 



1^ 



WITH 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 



OF 



THE AUTHOR. 



LONDON : 
PUBLISHED BY JONES & COMPANY, 

S» ACTON PLACE, KINGSLAND BOAS. 

' 1824. 



GLASGOW: 

Ai-dTcw & Jobu M. Daneaa, 

i»riw*rs to th« I'ui^twitjr 



THE LIFE 



OF 



THOMAS GRAY. 



r 



THOMAS GRAY was bom in London, on the 
26th of December, 1716. He received hia educa- 
tion at Eton, where he contracted a fMendship 
with Mr. Horace Walpole, and Mr. Richard Weit, 
■on of the Lord Chancellor of Ireland. 

When he left Eton, in 1734, he went to Cam- 
bridge, and enteared at Fetecfaoose. Mr. Walpole 
WM at that time in King's College, in the same 
Univenity. Mr. Wast went firam Eton to Christ 
Church, Orfiwd; and these two Totarles of the 
Moses commesioad an epistolary oorreqModence. 
Gray, Imvlng imbibed a taste fbr poetry, did not rel- 
ish AeeoUege studies; and leaving Cambridge in 
1738, he returned to London, intendhaig to apply 
himself to die study of the law, but this intention 
was laid asid^ upon an InTitaUon ttcan Mr. Wal- 
pole« to aooompany Urn in his travels. 

They set out tsgether £» France, from thence 
tiisy proceeded to Italy ; bat there an unfiatnnate 
dilute took place between dtem, and a separation 
ensued at Fl<nence. Althoo^ Mr. Walpde 
afterwards, with great candour and liberality, took 
upon himself the> blame of the quarrel ; yet we 
may not perhaps err much in supposing that Gray 
mi^t have claimed a deference to his opinion 
which his honourable fidend was not at that time 
disposed to grant. Gray pursued his' joomey to 
Venioe, and returned to England in September 
1741. 

Soon after his arrival in England, he lost his 
flither, who, by an indiscreet proAision, had so 
impdred his fiDtrtnne, as not to admit of his son's 
prosecuting the study of the law with respectability, 
without becoming burdensome to his mother and 
sunt. He returned therefore to Cambridge, and 
in 1741 took his bachelor's degree in dvil law. 

But the inconveniences of a scan^ fortune were 
not the only ills our* Poet had to encounter; he had 
lost the friendship of Mr. Walpole abroad, and 
poor West fell a victim to complicated maladies 
on the 1st of June, 174S. 

The exoesalve degree to which Gxay's mind was 
affected by the loss of his friend, will best appear 
from tiie fottowiag beaatifiil little sonnet : 

" In vain to me the smiling monungs shine. 
And redd'ning Phoebus lifts his golden tire ; 

The bhrds in vain their amorous descant Join, 
Or dieerftil fields resume their green attire: 



Thew ears, alasl fa* other notes repine; 

A diilbrent ol]Ject do these eyes require ; 
My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine, 

And in my breast th' impeifoct Jojs expire • 
Tetmcning smiles die bnsy race to cheer. 

And new-born pleasure brings to happier men ; 
The fields to all their wonted tribute bear; 

To warn their little kwes theUids eomplain ; 
I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear ; 

And weep the more because I weep in vain." 

Mr. Gray seems now to have applied liis mind 
very sedulously to poetry : his Ode to Spring was 
addressed to Mr. West, before he received the news 
of his death. How our Poefs mind was affected 
by that incident, is obvious firom the lines alieady 
quoted as well as from thei^eces which nest follow- 
ed, his P»««pece<2f£lim, and his Oib to Adtwr«%. It 
is supposed that he began hiBMOegg {« a Country 
Chureh-ygrd^lmt the same time. He passed some 
wedcs at Stoke, netr Windsor, when he finished 
several of his most oelebaated Poems. Thenee-be 
retoned to Cambridge, which inm his chief resi- 
deneeduring the remainder of his Uib. 

To enrich his mind with ideas he for six years 
devoted a considerable portion of his time to the 
study of the best Greek authors. Notwithstanding 
his attention however to them, he found leisure to 
advert. In a new and sarcastlcal manner, to the 
ignorance and dulness witii which he^was snxnund- 
ed,even in the centre of teaming. A fimgment is 
all that remains if what hd wrote on tills subject, 
and it appears that it was intended as a Hymn 
to Ignoranet. l%e fragment displays his poetical 
talents with more brilliancy than appears in many 
oCiiis Ijxic produetions. 

" HaU, honors, hail I ye ever gloomy bowers. 
7e gothic fones, and antiquated towers ! 
Where rushy Camus' slowly-winding^flood 
Pexpetual draws Us humid train of mud : 
Glad I revisit thy neglected reign : 
Oh, take me to thy peaoeftil shade again. 
But chiefly thee, whose influence, breathed from 

high, 
Augments the native darkness of the sky ; 
Ah, Ignorance I soft salutary power ! 
Prostrate with filial reverence I adore. 
Thrice hath Hjrperlon roll'd his annual race, 
.Since weeping I forsook thy fond embrace. 



a t 



ir 




Nokttaar«ld vilh 
Stevode 




InlTitliei 
todieMam. Mr. Walpale cndavraucd to 
««B with Gov, to wboB he bad FKvkulT 1 



thaworWcat; baft Gnv deeUaed it. 
Inl747aci9bMntie acq —i n te d with Mr. Ma- 
, thmm Mhohpr of St. Jahnfii CuBM g e, and 
DofvarPcaAniKHalL Mr. Mam 
k«MyaarbdbRUs"MoBo47<»tfae death 
oTPope," and his "D Bdlieaao»-aBd-«*II Pacefico;'* 
vliich pieoca Gtaiy icfviaed lat the nqiiBst off a 
fUend. This laid the fiwmdation of a fkiend- 
diip that tenninafted bat vith life: and Mr. Mason, 
after dw dead! oTGn^, testified Us regard fiv him, 
bj SBperintendxns Uw pnldicatiaa of his works. 

The same Tear be vrote a little Ode on tlie 
Death ef a &Taaite Cat of Mr. Walpole^; the 
fbOoviBK year be fndnoed t)ie Ftagment of an 

It opcBt with tiie two ftOowiiv Similes. 



** As siddy plants betny a ni|igaid earO, 
Wnese baiicu I whimh starm her geueiuus hirlfa. 
Nor genial vaimdk nor genial joioe retains. 
Their mols to feed and fill Ihcir rerdant wins ; 
And as in cfimes, vbere Winter holds his idgn. 
The soil, tbongh fertile, vlll not teem in wbi. 
Forbids her gems to swcil, her diadcs to riae. 
Nor tnistt her hloosoms to ttae cfaoxBsh sUes; 
So draw manMnd in fain tihe Tital airs, 
Uaferm'd, vnfkiended, by thoae Undly cans 
That health and tigear to the soul impart. 
Spread tbeyom^ OMn^t and varm the opening 
heart: 

So fend imtnction on «w grovt^ powen 
OfNatoxeidlyl 



If avaalJaslie^ widk vndfBoded fece^ 
Smile not infalgent on tte ririiie.iaoe, 

with a free, thoogb frogii ImA* 
d'crlbeland: 

Bnt ^riaaniy has fiz4 her empire acre. 

To chedi diA tondcr hope wUh ciuDioK fear. 

And blart Ibe biooalng pnnise of the year. 

This ^acinm, aninwted scene sarwy, 
nmn vfaenoe die roHfav ori» that gives the dsty. 

Bis sable aomvidii 

To eithv pole and life-k ] 

Hov mde soete d^ esttciar fiann ve find, 

Bove'cr opinian tii«e the faded ndnd, 

Alihe to all die kind, impartia l Hofen 

The sparks of tralk and happiness has given ; 

Withsenmtofeel, vidi memoiy to retain. 

They folbnr ptoasDR, and die; 4y firom pain ; 

Their judgment msBids the plan dieir ftncj dm«^ 

Th' event iin.nfte> and exploRS the < 
The soaHPPtam of gratitnde diey know, 
Qy firaad dnd^ by feioe icpd the fiw ; 
While mntaal wi 
The social smUe and iympailieticl 

Say,d«n, throng ages by what fete < 
To diffeRot dimes seem di£RBcnt aonls awign'd? 
H«re measarad laws, and phikenphic ease 
Fix and imp iofe the poUsh'd arts of p enc e ; 
There Indnslzy and Gain didr *i^ kae^ 
Command the winds and tame da' mnriHins deep; 
Han ferce and hardy deeds of blood paenil, 
Thefe languid. Flcasoe sl|^ in every gde. 
Oft (/er the trembiiiv nations firam afior 
Has Scytfaia tarealbed the living dood of war; 
And wfa«e the dduge bant widi svreepy tray, 
Thdr arms, their kings, dielr gods, were wiM 
As oft have issned, host tanpeObaghos^ [away: 
The blue cjcdnqTinds from d» Baltic coast; 
The p ro s t rat e Soath to the destroyer yidds 
Her boasted tides, and ber golden fidds : 
Wldi glim ddi^t the brood of Winter view 
A bri^tor day, and heavens of azure hne. 
Scent the new fragrance of tbe breathing rose. 
And qoaff the pendant vlol^pe as it grows. 
Frood of theyoke, and pUant to die rod. 
Why yet dom Asia dread a monarcb'k nod* 
While Boropean freedom stm withstands 
Th' cncroadung tides that drown bcr Itseenhig 

lands. 
And sees fer off, vrUh an indignant groan. 
Her native plains and e mpir e s once her own ? 
Can opener skies and sons of fiercer flame 
O'earpower die fire that ■"!»"■*— oar frame ; 
As lamps, tliat died at eve a dieerftal ray. 
Fade and exi^re beneadi the eye of di9 ? 
Need we the influence of the northern star 
To string oar nerves and sted oar hearts to trar ? 
And where die fece of Natare lang^arannd. 
Most dccenlng vfartoe fly die tainted groand? 
Unmanly thon^t ! what seasons can control. 
What fended zone can drcamacribe die soal 
Who, consc io as of the sooroe from whence die 

ipnngs. 
By Reason's li^t, on Besohttion'S vrings. 
Spite of her frail oomponion, daondess goes 
O'er lybiati deserts, and throogh ZemUal snows ? 



I J 



.1 



TBB uaem ox* tbomjls oxuit. 



She Uds e«di dombering energy awake. 
Another toudi, another temper take, 
Suapends th' Inferior lavs that rule oar da; s 
The ctnbhom elements oonfen her tway ; 
Their little want* tfaehr low dedret refine, 
And raiae the mortal to a height divine. 

Not bat the human Ikbric from the Urth 
tmbibet a flavonir of iti parent earth ; 
Aa var^His tfaeta enforce a Tarlona toll. 
The mannen apeak the' Idiom of thdr soil. 
An itaa race the moanttfn^cttn maintain, 
FoM to tiie gentler geniua of fhe i^ain ; 
For where uiweaxled ilnewt must beflwuid 
With aideloBg plough to qvell Hu flinty gratand. 
To torn the torrent's swift-deaeendlag flood. 
To brave the sstage nufatag from tile wood, 
What wonder If, to petleftt nddttt IMtafd, 
They guard with apMt what «y ttMi«(h tttj 

gUtafd, 
And while their kwAy ntnpttls rannd ih^r see ? 
The roui^ dMde of Want and LHierty, 
(Aa hiwieas ftree from ooaflAenee win graw) 
Ittsolt the plenty ortfiefales below. 
What wondor in Hie BBltry eiimaa, Itaaft afiead 
WhanKf Ue rednadattt otav his saimn«r4ed, 
ttam Ua broad bosom lift mid wdnre fflng^ 
And broods o'er Egypt, with Us watery wings» 
If, wlfli adventannis ear and ready sail. 
The doaky people drive befine the gale. 
Or on tna floats to nd^boarlng clticsntide. 
That rise and glitter o^er the ambient tide ? 
• « • « • 

In 1760 he pnt the flntahing atroke to hia JEbsgy 
lurUtm in a Country Chureh-i/ard. Thia pieee waa 
the moat popular of all our anthor'a productiona ; 
it ran through eleven editiona, and waa tranalated 
into Latin by Anatagf and Roberta; and in the aanw 
year a version of it waa pnbliahed by Lloyd. Mr. 
Bentley, an eminent artist of that time, drew fbr it 
a set of designs, as he also did for th& rest of Gray's 
productions, fbr which tlie artlat was repaid by the 
AnOior in some beautifial stanzas; ef,whidi nn- 
fiirtnnately no perfect copy remains. The ItiPow- 
ing an given as a spedmen. 

" In silent gaae the tuneAil dkolr among. 

Half pleased, half blushing, let the Mnae admne. 

While Bentley leada her aiater art along, ^ 
And blda the pencil answer to the lyre. 

'* See, in flieir course^ eadi transitory tiiou^t, 
Fiz'd by his touch, a lasting nssmcc take; 

Bach dream in Fancy's airy odouring wraq^t, 
To local symmetry and life awake I 

** The tardy rhymes, that used to linger on. 
To censure cold, and negligent of feme; 

In swifter measures animated run. 
And catch a lustre flrom hleganulne flameb 



'*Ah! oould they eatdi his strength, his 
grace. 

His quick creation, his unerring line : 
The energy of Pope they might eifhoe. 

And Dryden'S harmony submit to mine. 



a!( 



'* But not to one In this benighted age. 

Is* Aat diviner insplratioocglven. 
That bums inJShakspeaie's or in Milton's pkge. 

The pomp and prodigalitr of heaven. 

** As when oonspiring in the diamond's blaze. 
The meaner gems that singly charm the sight 

Together dart their intermingled raya. 
And danle with a luxury oflight. 

" Bnouj^ fbr me, if, to aothefbellng breaat 

My Ilnea a secret symptithytimpart, 
And, aa their pleaamg mfluence flows confbas'd, 

A sigh of soft reflection heave the heart." 

Gnqr flnUied his Ode on the Pngru* qf Poetry 
eariyln.1755. The Bomi also waa begun about the 
aame time ; and the fellowlng Fragment on the 
PUantre aHHUgfrvHi Fieiasttadt, the next year. 

*■ Nbw Oie geideB mohi aloft 
Waves her dew<bespengled wing, 
wiA vwtsil dkeek, and whisper soft. 
She wooes the tardy spring ; 
Till April starts, and calls around 
The Sleeping flragranoe flrom the ground. 
And li^tly o'er the living eeene 
Scatters his frsshest, tendeiest green* 

** New4>om flocks. In rustic dance, 
FrisUng ply their fbeble fbet ; 
ForgetAiLof their wintery trance. 
The birds his presence greet : 
But chief the sky-lark wsrbles high 
Ifls trembling, thrilling ^tacy ; 
And, lessening from the daxded'sigfat, 
Mdts into air aad liquid ll^t 

" Yesterday tiie sullen year 
Saw the snowy whirlwind fly ; 
Mute was the mpsic of tiie air. 
The herd stood drooping by ; 
The raptures now, that wildly flow. 
No yesterday,jior moixow know j 
'TIS man alone that Joy descries 
MTlth.^jrwprd and reverted eyes. 

** Smiles on past miaflntuna'S brew 
Softieflactian's hand can trace. 
And o^er the cheek of sorrow throw 
A mdandioly grace t 
While hope prdongs our happier boor ; 
Our deqiest ahadaa, that dimly lower. 
And blacken round our weary way 
Gflds witfi a i^eam of distant day. 

** Still where rosy pleesure leads. 
See a kindred grief punue, 
Bdilnd the steps that misery treads 
Approaching cemfbrt view : 
The hues of bliss more tnigfatiy 

glow. 
Chastised by saUer tints of wo ; 
And Mended, feim, with artfbl strife. 
The strength and harmony of life. 

*' See the wretdi that long was toas'd 
On the diflcny bed of pain. 
At length repair his vigour los|. 
And breathe and walk agabi. 



TBB laam or tbomas ouat. 



Th* mwMMtt flowoct of the Tue, 
The •bnplwtnole that swdls th« (ale* 
The oommoa ma, the air, the skiet. 
To him are openiaK Paxadlae.'* 

On the death of Cdllej Gibber, 1757, be had the 
honour of rehiiing the office of Poet Lauxeatew His 
uoioaltj, aflter tome time, drew him away from 
Cambridge to a lodctng near the British Muieom, 
where he leridad nearly three yean, reading and 
tnuMcrtbing* 

In 176S, on the death of Mr. Turner, rrofteMi 
of Modem Languages and Histoiy, at Cambrtdge, 
be made an unsaficcsifiil application to be appoint- 
ed his successor. 

In 1766 he undertook a journey to Scotland for 
the benefit of his health; and while here, oontxact- 
ed a friendship with. Dr. fieattie,. thxou^ whom 
he was ofliared the degree of Doctor of Laws, but 
which-hedeclined, as he had omitted to take it at 
Cambridge. 

In 1768 loor Author obtained, without soUdU- 
tioo, the Pratesonhip of Languages and History, 
which had again beoome Tacant. This place was 
worth L.400 a-year. Soon after, his health ren- 
dered another Journey n ccessmy ; and he Tlslted- 
in 1769, the oeonties of Westmoreland and Cum 
heriand. 

Towards die close of May 1771,Jie removed from 
Cambridge to London, after having suffered Tielent 



attacksofaa hereditary gout. By the advioe of his 
phyaidans, he removed to Kensington ; from vhidi 
he was soon enabled to return to CambrUge. On 
the 24tb of July, however, he was seised, while at 
dinner in the coUege-hall, with a sndden "«"Wi 
The gout had fixed on his stomach in such a de- 
gree, as to resist all the powers of m^it^ r ydt^ and, 
on the evening of the .^at of July, 1771, he dqpaxt' 
ed this li&, hi the Mth year ofbis age. 

As a Poet, he stands high in the estimation of flic 
candid and judicious. The Elegy in theChuzdi* 
yard is deemed his maslcr-pieae I the subject is in- 
teresting, the sentiments simple and pafltetic, and 
the versifieation charmingly melodious. 

*< In the charactor of his Elegy (says Dr. John. 
son) I rqjoioe and concur with the common reader; 
fiir, by the ce mnten sense of readers, tmcoRTupted 
with literary pr^ndioes, after all the refiiyments 
of subtil^ and the dogmatism cf learning, must be 
finally decided all claim to poetical hooonra. The 
Gbirdk-yard abounds with images wliicfa find a 
mirror in every mind, and with sentiments to which 
every bosom returns an echo. The four stanas 
beginning, Y0t-t^e» Hute tomut are to me original: 
I have never seen the notions in any other place ; 
yet he that reads them here, persuades himself that 
he has always ftlt them. Hed Gray written ofkcn 
thus, it had been vain to Uamc, and useless te 
praise liim." 



CONTENTS. 



Page 

life ......... iU 

Ode on die Spring 1 

.^ondieDeathofafimiuiteCat . ib. 

.«~ on a distant frospecC of Eton College ;. S 

•— to Adversity il>. 

The Progreas of Poesy . . . . 5 

-^TheBaid 4 

The Fatal Sisten 6 

-~> The Descent of Odin. ..... Ib. 



Page 
Ode The Txittmph of Oven .... 7 

The Death of Hoel ib. 

——fiir Music 8 

AloBgStoxy .9 

Elegy, written in a CoonCry ClMBdi-yard 10 

The Epitaph .."..... 11 

Bpitaidi on Mrs. Maiy Claihe . . . ib. 

Tranilatioo flrom Statins .... 12 

Gnqr on himself . • » • Ib. 



1 



'i 



ODES. 



i. 



ODE I. 



ON THE 8FR1NG. 



LO! where tiiexoqr boMmd hoars. 

Fair Venas' train, appear. 
Disclose the long expecting flo«eBc« 

And wake the purple ye^r. 
The attic warbler pours her throat 
Responsive to the cuckooes note, - 

The untaught harmonj of spring ; 
While, whispering nleasure a* they fly» 
Cool zephyia durougn the clear blue sky 

Their gather'd fiagranoe flmg. 

Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch 

A broader, browner shade. 
Where'er ibe -rude and moss-grown beech 

O'er-canopies the glade,* 
Beside some water's rushy brink 
With me the Muse shall sit, and think 

(At easeTeclined in rustic state! 
How Tain the ardour of the crowd. 
How low, how little are the proud ! 

How indigent the great ! 

Stm is the toiling hand of Caie, 

The panting herds repose ; 
Yet hark! bow throu^ the peopled air 

The busy murmur glows ! 
The inlect youth are on ibe wing. 
Eager to taste the honev'^ V^iogt 

And float amid the 'liquid noon ; f 
Some lightly o'er the current skim. 
Some show their gayly-gUded trim, 

Quicfc«glandng to the sttn4 

To Contemirfation's sober eye,f 

Soch is the race of man. 
And they that creep qad they that fly 

Shall end where they bq^an. 
Alike the bu^ and the gay 
But flutter throufi^ USe^t Uttle day, 

In Fortune's Taryinft colours dress'd ! 
Brush'd by the hand of rough Mischance, 
Or chill'd by Age, their airy danoe 

They leave, m dust to rest. 

Metfainks I hear, in accents low. 

The spartife kind reply. 
Poor Moralist ! and what art thou ? 

A solitary fly ! 



Thy Joys no glittering fanale meets. 
No tuve hast thou of hoarded sweets. 

No painted plumage to display : 
On hasty wings thy youth is flown. 
Thy sun is set, thy spring is gone— 

We ftoiic while 'Us May. 



ODE II. 



-a bank 



O'er-canopied with luscious woodbine. 

Mids. Nif^'t Dream. 
> Nare per oestatem liquidam. rirg. Gwrg. 



ON MIS DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT. 



Dnmmed in a Tub of Gold Fiihu. 

'TWAS on a lofty rase'k side. 
Where China's gayest art had died 

The azure flowers that blow. 
Demurest of the tabby kind. 
The pensive Selima reclined, 

Oaxed on the lake below. 

Her eonscious tail her joy declared : 
The fidr round facet ^ snowy beard. 

The velvet df her paws. 
Her coat that with the tortoise vies. 
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes. 

She saw, ana purr'd applause. 

Stm had she gazed, but, 'midst the tid^ 
Two angel fbnns were seen to glide. 

The Oenii of the stream ; 
Their scaly armour's Tyrian hue. 
Through richest purple, to the view 

Betny'd a golden gleam. 

The hapless nymph with wonder saw : 
A whisker first, and then a claw, 

Witti many an ardent wish. 
She stretch'd in vain to reach the priz^^, 
Whatiemale heart can gold despise ?' 

What Cat's averse to fish ? 



lib. 4. 



-■ s p orting with quick ^ance. 
Show to the sun thor waved coats dropp'd with 

gold. MiU. P. L b. 7. 

( While insects from the ttireshold preach, tie. 
Mr. Ortm in the GroUa. Dodaley'e 
Mise, vol. V. p. 161. 



Presumptuous maid ! with looks intent, 
Anin she stretch'd, again she bent, 
I Nor knew the.gim between : 
(Malignant Fate sat by and smiled,) 
The sUppe^ verge her fieet beguiled ; 
She tumbled headlong in. 

Eight times emer^ng from the flood. 
She mew'd to even waterv god 

Some npeedy aid to send. 
No Dolphin came, no Noejd stirr'd, . 
Nor cruel Tom nor Susan heard : 

A &vaarite has oofiAend ! 

From hence, ye Beauties ! imdeoeived. 
Know one fSuse step is ne'er retrieved. 

And be with caution bold : 
Not all that tempts your wandering eyeit 
And'heedleas hearts, is lawful nriie. 

Nor all that glisters, gold. 



OBSS. 



ODE III. 



A MtCAVT PmOSraCT or XTOK COLLEGE. 

YE AttHrt SpiiM ! ye antimie Towers ! 
That crown the watery jaaoB 



C 



WhcKjmUefbl Sdnceadiredf 

Her H«iiir«*»«»*y •>>«*« J. , 

And Tc that from tiie itately brow 

Of Windaor'i bel«^ tfa' expanse below 

OrpoTe. ofUwn, of mead^ turfay ; 
Whoee tan, whoee ihade, whoie flower* among, 

faaden die hoaiT Thames akmg 
ffig lUvar windtog wqr. • 

Ahhapprhilli! ah plcaiinf shade ! 

AFfieUs beloved In vainl 
When onee my caxaieai rhUrihowl stny'd, 
*" Aftnnaeryettopain! 
I fed Oe gales that from ye Uow 
A momentazy bliss bestow. 

As waving fresh their gMaome wing 
My weaxy soul they seem to soothe. 
And, redolent \ of>y and vouth. 

To breathe a second Sfsing. 

Sw< ftlher Thames I ftrttoahatt 

^iUl nttagr ft q»li^^ XKCt 
ahnovtlng on tt^ margent green, 

'The paths of pleasure tiaoe-- 
Who ftrmoet now dcUfl^t to cleave 
With pliant arm thy gw?*! ^•'» ' , . 

The captive linnet frhich enthral ? 

What idle tirogeny succeed 

To diMe the rolling circle's speed, 

Orvnethei^ingbair? 



While some, on earnest bosTness bent, 

Th* mnnnuitoglabosinp 
'Oalnst graver hoars, dwt nrlng ooutxaint. 

To sweeten Uberty; .. ^ ^ 
Some bold adventareta dtodeln 

The limits oftfadr Uttle nisn. 

And unknown vegionft dare descry i 
Stfll as they mn tfiqr lodk behind. 
They hear a voice In every wind, 
\ And anatdk a taiftil Joqr. 

(G» hope is ifaaiH^ by ihney ftd, 
^^J^ piwshig when pmBseiid 1 
The tear fivBDt as soon aa ihed. 

The snnswne of tlie hieast ; 
Theirs buxom heattb of n^y hncir 
Vnid wit, invention ever new. 

And lively cheer of vigoar bom ; 
The tfaonghtlessday, the en^ nigfat. 
The spirite pu*^ the slumbers light. 

That fly the appnach of mom. 

iMBulleas iif thiif denmi 

The little victimt ^av ! 
No seoM have they of ill* to oome. 

Nor one brad lo^y; 
V^ see how eu ai waid'e m wait 
ITha ministers of human ftte. 
Xi^kal bteok Misftetane't baleftil train ! 
Ah! shew them where in embuih stand. 
To seize their prey, the mvrderooebandl 

Ah! tell them tney axe men. 

These shell the ftaxy pasdom tear. 

The vnltnxes of the mind, 
nsdainftil Anger, pallid Ptear, 

And Shame, that skulks beUnd; , 
Or phitag Love shaU waste th^ youth. 
Or Jealousy, with rankUngtooCh, 

That ii*r gnaws ttM eeoe* heart I 
i^nd Envy wan, and frdad Care, 
Jbzlm-tlsaged, oomfixrtleas^Despair, 

And SofSoWspiardng dart. 

AmUtldothissfaaUtsmpttonie, 
Then whirl the wietch from high. 

To Mttv Seom a saerifloe. 
And fllnQtPg Inihniy : 



* King Hemy VL ftander of the College. 
\ And bees their honey icdelent of soring. 

prydenft PM» «m Ae P yOt ag . Sy$Um. 



The sdnn of PaladMod fboae shall try. 
And luttd UnUndncss' allai^ otc, 

nat mocks the tear it faced to flow 
And keen Bcmoeae, with Mood defiled, 

tnd moody Madness* langhiwg wild 
Amkl seven 

Lo! inthevalet 

A grisly troop are seen. 
The paijdul fiunilv of Death, 

Msax hideous toan their queen: 
This racks the Joints this flics the veins. 
That every labouring sinew strains. 

Those in tiie deeper vftals rage; 

^I Poverty to fill the band, 
St numbs die soul widi iqr hand. 
And slow-oosisnming Age. 



Toeadthissuffirlngs; allare 
iCondenm'd alike to groen. 
The tender for anotbers pein, 

Th' nnfteling for his own. 
Yet ah! why should they know dieir &£e 
Sinoe Sorrow never cornea too Iate> 

And Happiness too swiftly flies ? 
Thought would destroy their paradise. 
Mo mote ; vhere ignorance Is bliss 

•TisfoUytobewbi^ 



y ODE IV. 



TO ADVERSITY. 



1>AUGHTE& ct Jove, ieleatl( 

Tlion tamer of die human b 
Whose iron soonzge and torturing honr 

The bada£MaCt, aflilct the best 
Bound in thy aifimantine chain. 
The proud are tan^t to taste or pain; 
And purple tyrants vtinly groan 
With pangs unieU befae, onj^tiedaDd 

When first 0iy sire to send on earth 
^rtne, his darling child, deslgn'd. 

To thee he gave die neavenly birth, 
Jind bade to form her tn&nt mind;^. 

Stern, nuged nurse! thy rigid lorei. . 

With penwice many a year she bore ; 

What sorrow was thou oad'st her know, 

AJad, from her own, she leam'd to mdt at others' 
wo. 

Scared at diy firown tenrific, fly 

SeUjjpleaslngFoUy^ idle brood, . 
With Laughter, Noiise, and diowahtless Joy, 

And leave us leisure to be good. • 
Lli^ttheydiflpene; and wi£ them go» 
The suamier Mend , d>e llB tWirbig Jbe; 

?y vain Froapeillj reveived, 
o her they vow tfadr truth, and are again be 
Ueved. 

Wisdom, in simple garb anay*df 
Immoied In raptoxous thoo^tptofimnd. 

And Melancholy, dlent maid. 

With leaden eye, that loves the ground. 

Still on thy solemn steps attend ; 

Warm Charity, the geiieral friend, 

Mlth Jncdoe, to henelf severe. 

And nty, dropping soft the sadly>p]sadng tear. 

Obi gendjondnrsuppUantfsheed, 

DrMd Goddess! lay thy chastening hand 
Not in thy Oovan terrors dad, 

Nordnded wMh ihyvengcrni band: 
(As by the impious thou art seen) 
With thundering vdoe and threatcnmg mien, 
With screaming Harror'k flmard cry, 
Daspafar, and lUl Disease, and ghastqr Poverty. 



* And Madness langbing in his irefbl mood. 

Drydm't Fabu qfPa!emcn mud ArttU, 



T^^KfUtlaa^^Sl^ 













jAlH liiAi owwii rh' AMD Aha, 
Flildi Itui ami IlliJiilinT^ 

WlMIlLUlllIilluiltiirlDlBlIilldllDa, 
Tnti Hailil, Ok AUiUariiiu i^hhi 



To Um OH mlfta^n 

TliJijwcatth* tJh*n l5^Swgi 
T^> un Dot tgUtn j^'l — 






Willi llbanj, ma Ott^rtomttml nbB^^HlS 
IP IL-[gii flu tefc Kciiw«fl». '"J '™'i »*■»■ 

™ E'rt cf B|1m' mT^ ThMM. ^ft« fia 



Chmt iu <!■ to ■■*■■■ Btfa- 



JrftMllil 11 llMtf Si InliiTir 






a imr mad Mfldnur J 1^ ccach^blf VI 



Boted Id Ihi bU> uH •OT'l ^^ 
Win tH^ a. lupDH luSd 1 









t GiKn (It Glut, ■anuHd dw BbL Biri of 
GI«cc4Kr ud Hviflnl, Hu'ln-lBir eoKli^ E^ 
lEdiDOBd it If ordmoTfLcri af Wlfmon. 

■dtdtlMUnlalliUMndMt n. '"^^ "^ 

Mn<f toiS,ji^i»pi ihjgflii^npnm B^ 



11.1. 



' W«ave the warp and w«m die voo^ 

The -winding sheet of Edward't noa { 

Qin ample room and ferge enon^ 

The ebaraeten of hed to traoe. 

iCark the year, and mark the nJuht. 

IVhea Hetem ihaU le-echo with ainigfat 

The ahxieka of death throu^ Backkty** loofr that 

ghrieksoTanaffonixing'^irg!* ^ ^ Dcing, 

8he-wolf of France,! with onralenitinc iiaa. 

That teai^ the bowels of thy man^ea maw. 

From thee t ^ horn who o'er thy country hans 

The acoqne of heaven. What temm ronnd nim 

wait! 
Amaaemcnt in hla nm, with Flight oomUaed. 
And SoRow's ftded fiom, and SoUtode bahlnd. 

II. S. 

** Hightf victor, mighty lord, 
Low an his fimenl coudi he Uet !f 
No pitying heart* no eye afford 
A tearto craoe Iub obfteaaiei! 
It the sable warriorB fled ? 
Thy son is gone; he resu among die dead. 
The swarm that in thy noontide beam were bom ? 
Gone to salute the rising mom : 
Fair lang^ the mom,Tand soft the cephyr blows. 
While proudly riding o'er the axure realm. 
In gallant trim the £lded vessel goes; 
Youth on the prow and pleasure at the hdm { 
Regardlea of the sweeping whirlwind's sway. 
That hnsh' d in grim repose expects hie evening 
prej. , 

II. 9. 

" Fin higlk the sparkling bowl,** 

The rich repast prepare ; 

Reft of a crown, oe yet may share the Ibaat. 

Cloae by a regal chaur 

Fdl Thirst and Famine soowl 

A balefol smile upon the baffled guest. 

Heard ye the din of battlebray,tf 

Lanoe to lance and horse to horse 7* 

Long years of havock urge their daatlned ooone. 



Ana mrongh the kindred squadrons mow their way. 
Ye towen of Julius 1 1± London's lasting shame 1 
With many a foul and midnight murder fed. 



Reveie his conaort'sff faith, hlsfather's fiune,|| 
And qwre the meek usurper's i Y boly bead. 
Above, below, the Rose of snoW|^ 
Twined with her blndiliw to9, we spnad j 
The bristled Boar 4 in innnt«ore 
Wallows beneath the thorny shade. 

* Edwasd II. cmelT botchsred In Berkley 
Castle. 

t laabel of Fraaoe, Edwaid II.'s adolteroua 
^ttean. 

t Trinmpbe of Edward III. In Fiance. 

I DeaOi of that king abandoned Iqr Us ddldien, 
and even robbed in his last momenta by his cow* 
tiers and his mistress. 

I Edward the Black Prince died some time be> 
fonhisfiiAer. ~ 

H Maonifloence of Richard 11.** reigp. See 
Frqisiard and odier cotemporary writers. 

** Richard II. (as we are told hj Archfaidiop 
Scroop, and the ooniiederate Lords, in their manf. 
ftsto, br Thomas of Walslngham, and all the older 
writers) was starved to death. The story of his 
assawrtnation by St. Piers of Exon is of much later 
date. 

ft RoinoQ»civiI wars of York and Lancaster. 

fi Hen»yi. Oeone Duke of Claraaoe, Edwaid 
V. Ribhard ttake ofyorfc, ftc believed to be mur- 
dered secretly in the Tower of London. Tlie oldest 
nvtflf that structure is vulgarly attributed to Jnlins 

II MaxgaietafAqJoa, a woman of heroic spirit 
who stngji^ Aard to save her lutsband and her 



n Henry VL very near bdngcaaonixed. Th« 



V [Henry V. 
T Henry Vju venr 
line of Lantastar had no rig^ of Inheritance to the 



J .The white and red Rosea, devices of York and 
Lancaster. 

I ThesUverBoar waaOiebadeeafRieherdlll. 
wbeMoe he wMusnaUy known ia his own time bgr 
file name of The Boar. 



New, brothers ! bending o'er <h' aoeoned hMm. 
Stamp we our vengeance deep, and ratl^ bla 
doom. 

in.i. 

** Edward, lo I to sudden fltte 

BITeave we the woof : the thread is qpun) 
alf of thy heart* weoonsecraie; 
(The web is wove ; the work is done.") 
' Stay, oh stay I nor thus fiorlom 
Leave me nnbless'd, nnpMrid here to mourn. 
In yon bright tract, that fires the wesfeotn sUes, 
Tmgr mei^ they vanish from my 9tt*' 
But oh I what solemn scenes on Saeiwdenli hai^C, 
Descending slow, their glittering skirts unioll i 
Yislons of gloiy I spare my aching sidit 1 
Ye unborn ages crowd not on my soul 
No more ouriong-lost Arthur f we bewail t 
All hail, ye cenulne kings,t Britannia's 

in. 9. 

* Girt with many a baron bold 
Sublime their starry fronts they rear. 
And gornous dames and statesmen <dd 



^ 



In beanud msjes^ appMur ; 

In the midst a form divine 1 

Her eye proclaims her of the Britan4lae, 

Her lioa-port, her awe^commanding face, 

Attemper'd sweet to viigin-graoe. 

What strings mnphonious Ixamble ia the air ! 

What strains of vocal transport round her j^y ! 

Hear from the grave, great Talloastn i | hear! 

They breathe a soul to animate thy day. 

Briiplit Rapture calls, and soaring as she sings. 

Waves In the eye of heaven, bar many.oolonr'd 



IIL8. 

' The vene adom again 

Fierce War, and frdthfrd Love,l 

And Truth severe, by fldry Fiction tUea^'d. 

In buddn'd measures move ** 

Pale Orle^ and pleasing Pain, 

With Horror, tyrant oftha throbbing breast. 

A voice ft as of the eherub-diolr 

Gales from tdoomlng Eden bear. 

And distant •waatkUngs ^ lessen on my ear, 

That lost in long ftitarity expire. 

Fond impious man 1 think'at thoa yon sanguine 

ckmd. 
Raised by Hry breath, has qnendi'd the orb of day ? 
To-momnr ae repairs the golden 6oo«L 
And warms flte nations wim redoubled ray. 
Enous^ tat me : with joy I see 
The diflfarent doom our Fatea MSiga < 
Be Oilne Daqialr and scepttred Cera ; 
To triumph and to die axe atine.' 
He spoke, and,headlongfrom the mountalntheight, 
Deep, in the roaring tide, he plowed to epdiesa 

night. 

* Eleanor of Castile died a tew years atter the 
conquest of Wales. The heroic proof she gave of 
her afftctioa Ibr her lord is well known. The 
monuments of his regret and sorrow for the loss of 
her are still to tt seen at Northampton, Gadding- 
ton, Waltham, and other places. 

t It was the common belief of Ae Wdsh nation, 
that King Arthur was still alive in Fairyland, and 
should return again to r^gn over Bcitain. 

t Both MerOn and Taliessin had propfaetled 
that the Wtish should regain their soverelnity 
over tikis islead, whioh a e emed to be aeoompU^icd 
in the house of Tudor. 

f Speed, relatiag an audience giesB Iqp {bieen 
Elizabeth to Paul Dziallnski, ambassador of Po> 
land, says, ** And thus she, lion-ilke rising daunted 
the malapert orator no leas with her sutely port 
aad nu^tioal deportnxe, than with tiie tartness of 
her prinoelie cheeVes." 

I Taliessin, chief of the Bards, flourished in tlw 
ttm century. Itts works are still preserved, and 
his memo ry held In hl^ ven er atio n among hiit 
countnrmen. 

5 Fleroe wars and fidthftil loves shall moraliiw 
my song. Spnissr'* Fairy QtMrn. 
•• Shakspeaxe^ ---^ ff MUt<&. 

^ The snocession of Peels after Milton's time- 
B 



■ riiji. Bid Satlratim In Saapr^ a ual 4H 




aJ?^ nV>B thMjIv Mi 



dlfpp'djniwwt 






OWOn TOMkf^l'CSl IM' •>» 










tJSX^ Sf'tSS^ ^^ 



HADlbulbitoncBt'iiDlAE, 

AloB* toi Naiv^ Willi jtrr^^ 
Blinks udballkalgitlimUd. 
Td CbUthUii tftJOAranHof m 

Wnwiiid Bi muii • aidAni W ; 



hli ttDcMMSTlk^ M^ F^Tlmlw 
•ml FQUIUd MrMm JMMMCbS* •BBi 




TwH Molv MJuck ibi dHp^bHd iLM^ 




■d cOusD.I « liD bridal Mm, 






hu inlSndlAftBllllil PIUii 
Krnnu rfnnl Imq pD^d. 



SrS/^ndndvi 



TbiUbU luut, ttnJuAdnilin 
ThtflowTMluiiMaMfldBlclj^ 



^jid Co dnju^uil' jutli bud 

Jala •iS^diSi* tba I«d (ji^obUk lif . 



>hiM^ Bhv >H HH fcoDdnv Df r4inbTDln-i4lM* 



1 



MISCELLANIES. 



A LONG STORY. 



ASVX&TISEMEKT. 



Mb. ORArS EUgy,pnirimuioUMpMieaHmt,wa*kamJM^ioviimM&mdhai,amomgtleOuraimtreri, 
tke Laiif CoMoM, who rttided m tiu nuuubm-hotut-tit Stokt-PageU. The fei^fitnmmee indmeimg her te 
nUkibfrihe Antkor't aeqtutinlanee, Lady Sehaub and Miss Speed, then at her haiue, undertotkte intro- 
dmeektrtoiL lUsetnoU^Oee m at t e d upon »e Autktr at hie AumPe eoStarif htMtatiom, where heatthat 
Hme reeUed, etmduutfiiiMm him at Jkomt* tkey l^ a card behind them. Mr. Oray, eurfrieed at etieh 
a eom p tittumt f relamed tt« vieit ; and as the begfrndng qfthie intercourse bore some appearance qfromanct, 
he gave the ktmmmu and Uvelj/ aec on rnt qf it nMeh the Jtong Story amtains. 



IN BtHtln'i ide. no matteor where, 
AB aneknt pile of jrafliUng studs;* 
Tho HiiBtiagdans andHattont tbert 
Bmploj'd tbe power of Faiiy YuaodB, 

To niw the ceUlng't fretted Iwigbt, 
Sad) pannel fn adilOTaiienta cloUuiig, 
Blch windows fbat odiide the light. 
And paasagee that lead to nothing. 

Full oft withhi the ^adoot walla. 
When he had fif^ wintera o'er him. 
My graTc Lord-KiBeper f led the hrawk : 
I teal and maoes danced beftwe him. 



Thei 



Hit hndij-beard and dioe-etilng* ar e eu , 
Hk hlffh-crown'd hat andaatin doublet. 
Moved the itout heart of England's queen, 
ThoDi^ Pope and Spaniaid oonld no* tnwble it. 

What, in the WTf flnt beginnings 
Shame of the veisii^tng tribe !' 
Tour histoqr whiOer an you spinning ? 
Can yon do nothing bat describe ? 

A house there is (and that's ayiagh) 
From whence one fatal morninctaues 
A btaee of warrkB, f not In htSr, 
But matlfng in their silks and tinnes. 

The first came eap-ihpee firom France, 
Her conquering desany nlfilling. 
Whom meaner beauties eje askuice. 
And vainly ape her art ofriUhig. 



* The mansion-house at 8toke-Pog«IS|then in 
the <poaaesrion-of Ylscountaas Cobham. The style 
«f building which we now call Qoeesi E'izabeth's, 
is here admirably described, both with regard to its 
baanlies and defects; and the third and -fimrth 
stanzas delineate the ftntastic manners of her time 
with equal trudi and humour. . The honsefinmerly 
Wonged to the Earls of Huntingdon and the fiunily 

f Sir Christopher Ristton, promote d bv Queen 
Bliabeth for his graceful person and fine aancing. 
— Srawls were a sort of a figure-danoe then m 
vogne, and probably deemea as elegant as our 
modem cotilloaa, or still more modem quadrilles. 

t The fader Is alreadr apprised who these 
ladies were ; the two descriptions are prettily con- 
trasted I and nothing can u»more happily turned 
tikan the compliment to Lady Cobham m the liighth 



The other amaxon kind heaven 
Had arm'd with spirit, wic and satire ! 
But Cobham had tiie poUsa given. 
And tipp'd bar aixows with good-nature. 

To celelnate her eyes, her air— 
Coarse panegyrics would but tease her ; 
Melissa is her nom duguerre; 
Alas! who would not wish to please her: 

With bonneC Uac and capndiln. 
And aprons long, they hid their armour. 
And veil'd their weapons, bright and keen. 
In pity to the conntiy temer. 

Fame, fan tiie shape of Mr. P— t.* 

gty this time all the parish know it) 
ad told that tiiereabonts there Inrk'd 
A wicked imp they can a FOet, 

Who prowrd the conntiy fiur and near, 
B«wftch>d the children of the peasants. 
Dried up the eows, and lamed the deer. 
And suck'd the eggs, and kill'd the pheasants. 

My lady heard their Joint petition. 
Swore byher ooronet and ermine. 
She'd issue out her high commission 
To r^ the manor of such vermin. 

The heroines undertook the task ; 
Thro' lanes unknown, o'er stiles they ventured* 
lUqm'd at tiie door^nox^stay'd to ask. 
But Dounoe into the parlonr enter'd 

The trembling fiunily they daunt. 
They flirt, they sing, they lau^, they Uttie, 
Rummage his mother, ranch nis aunt. 
And up stairs in a whirlwind rattle. 

Each hole and cupboard thev eznlore, 
Badi creek and cranny of his chamber, 
Hun hurry scurry round the floor. 
And o'er me bfd and tester clamber. 

Into the drawers and china pry. 
Papers and book^ a huge imbn^ol 
Under a tea-cup Ae might lie. 
Or ersaaed like dogt-ears in a folio. 

* I have been told that this gentleman, a neigh- 
bour and acquaintance of Mr> Gray's in ttie conn- 
3', was much displeased atthe liSerty here taken 
th his name, yet surely witiioataiqr reason. 



I 



!• 



Ob dM ftnt flMnshfeBC of im < 
f wet, bdpihM «0>1« paxdoo, 
CHM^^bim vBdamndi ttiair hoopt 
Tea amU doMt in iIm I 



HoRanMaram; (who trU bdtorc) 
Bat that thw Mt tlw door a-iw, 
Wben nft. and lan^iing in hit stocvc. 
He hautd tta* dirtant din cf-war f 

Short WM hli Jot : he little knev 
The power of raagK was no bble ; 
Oat of the window whiak they flew. 
Bat left a tpeU upon the table. 

The words too eager to nnrlddle 
The Poet Ut a strange disorder ; 
- itbixdiinielbrm'dthe 

I invisible the bards. 



i» 



«• JaM-Mnla! Madam BMg^ 
Why, what caA the V l a t i uant M S im . 
Cried the sqnara hoods, in woid fidffet; 
*« Tike times aie aUer^ qioita and dean ! 



So cBBninC 



diei 



ntas. 



•* Deoorvm's tnm'd to mere dvilitj ! 
Her air and all her manners show it : 
Ceoamend me to her aflabDity ; 
Speak to a CMnamncr and Poet r 

[Here 500 staazai 

And M Ood mve oar noMe klnf^ 
>n^ gnard osfrom king>windcd Inbeets, 
That to eternity would staig. 
And keep BV ladj ftom *-^ 



aieloac.] 



lappara 
The powerffilnoe-hooksdidsomovihim. 
That, wiU be mU he, to the neat boom 
He went m if the deril drove him. 

Tec on bis way (no sign of grace. 
For fiilks in fear are apt to pray) 
To Fhcebtts he prefien'd his caw. 
And begTA his aid «ut dnadftal d«y. 

The godhaad would have baek*d hiv ^ 
Bat wilh a blodk, on icooHeetaon, 
Qwm'd tliat his qmver and his loosd 
«Qainat ftfor sn(£ «ym were no proleetkn. 

The court wm set, the ealprit acn|. 
Forth firam their ^oomy m a n si on s o 
The lady Janw and Joew lepabr 
And flrom the gallaiy stand peepiqg: 

Sudi M in t Pe*"** of Ibe nUdit 
Cffne cweep along some winomg entqr* 
(Stjack * has often seen Om sigi^t) 
Or at the liiMfti-daat stand sentry ; 

la peaked hoods and mantles taniah^ 
Sour visages fnoogh to scare ye. 
High damm of honoar once that gamtt'd 
The drawing-room of fierce Queen Mary 1 

The peeress comes: the a u di ence staawb 
Ana doff their hats with due submission ; 
She oourfsies, aa slie takes lier dMdr, 
To all the peajple of oosidltion. 

The bard, with many an artful fib^ 
Had in imagination fenced him. 
Disproved the aiguments of Sqnib,t 
Ana all that Ontom f could urge agafaast him* 

^Bot soon his thetoric fiffsook him, 
Wbaa he the solemn hall had seen ; 
A sudden fit of ague shook him; 
He stood as mute as poor Madeancf 

Yet something he was iieard torauttiK', 
** How in the puk, beneath an old tree, 

Slthoot design to hurt the buttse, 
any malioe to the poultry,) 

" He once «r twke had penn'd a sonnet, -.^ 
Yet hoped that he might save his bacon ; y^^. 
Numbers would give their oaths upon it^' / JU 
H« ne'er waste a coqjoxw taken." «<*^nr 

The ghoatly prudes, with bagged I £>c«, 
Aliea^ had condemn'd the sinner : 
My Uim mse, and with a grace— 
Sae nuled, and bade him oome todinner.l 



ELECT, 



WriUem in • Cemdry OmnA-Tmri. 



,_cufewtrib*4wkneBefpCrtlagdagF, . 

The lewtaic herd wind •i<»»ly.o^.«* » "■» 
The ploaahman homeward plods lus waaiy W17, 
And toaves die wosld to daiknsas and to a*. 

Now ftdes the glimmeiing landsoapeon the sight. 
And all the air a mlemn stil]ne« helda» 
Save where the beetle whcds his dna'~ 
And diowiy ttaikUngs loU die distant! 

Save fliat from yondR ity*numtled tow 
Tlie mooing owl does to the mc— '— "»• 
Of such as. wandedng near her „ 
Moleat her ancient soUtaiy reiffk 

tth fliose rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, 
Where heaves Oe turf in aaaagr a mot^deriag 

heap, 
Ead» in his narrow cdl te ever laid. 
The lude tee&dien of 0»e hamlet da9. 

The beaerr call of inooiiss braolMac mmn. 

The swtflow twitaesing Aem the ahnw-bult 

shed. 
The ooAt shrill darion, or die echoing hem. 
No wan shall rouse them from their lowly bed. 

iQSKhem no more die Uaaing hearth diall bor.i. 
Or busy hoosewtfe ply her efoiing ease; 
No cbildnn run to 11^ their sim's return. 
Or dindi his knees the envied kiss to share. 



Oft did die harvcet to their rickU yield. 
Their ftarrow oft the stubboBUi^dw has broke ; 
How Jocund did dirr drive ihebr team a-fidd I 
~Jow bow'd die woods beneadi their sturdy stroke ! 



nov 



n A Ambidon mock didr useftil toil. 

Their homely Joys and desdnv obscure; 
Nor Grandeur hear, vrldi a dudainnil smUe, 
The short and dmioe annals «f the poor. 



viire< 



* The housekeeper. 
The s te wa rd. % Oroomofthediismber. 

A fioneashli^wayman, hanged the week bc> 



I HagRed,<.«.thefeceof awitdiorhag. The 
»pKiiet1lMu«anr has been sometimes mistaken as 
c on ve yin g the same Idea, but it means every differ- 
ent tiling, vis. wild and,/hroudk^ and is taken from 
on nnwdaimed hawk, called a Haggard. 

5 Hern the story ftnisbes, the eBelamatien of die 
ghost«, wUdi feOows, b dianoterisdoef die Span- 



Tbk boost of heraldry, die posiv w r»w--» 
And aUthat beanty, all diat wealth o'argatia. 
Await alike th' Inevitable hour : 
The paths of gbny lead bat to die grave. 

Norjoo, ye Proud ! impute to these the ftalt. 
If Memory O'er dieir tomb no trophies raises 
Where, tuough the iM^-dxawn aisle and fretted 

vaults 
The pealing anthem cwella the note ef praise. 



idmumnenofdie agewlien dier are suppeoed to 
have lived ; and the 500 atanxas said to belost, may 
be imagfaied to contain die remaindM of didr long- 
windedopostulation. 
• soyilla di lontano 

Cite palla*! glonio planger, die si rnnaore. 

. Dante. Pur. 1. 1. 



•'/= 



/f .■ y/ 



^ 



♦ V 



^ * 






I 



r 



^v /'.'»'* <r *" ^' ^ ^"^f\ 



n 



w .r 



^>- 



A'J^f 




C' f i 



Caaitortafti 

Back to Itt maiuiaik call ttw flNdng limdi ? 
Can Hmwu^ voio* jpnivolu A« ailmt duit. 
Or Flatteiy Mofli* t&e dvU oold MX of dMrth P 

PwhaminthisiMglwtedBpotlBUid 

Some Mart OBoe ipcgiuuat iritfa odMtlal fire : 

Hfwiia that tiw rod of emidn mlpic luTe 

swsy'd. 
Or waked to ecstac; the lining lyre. 

\ But Knowledge to their ejret her anple page, 
\ Rich witili the tptrilB of Time, did ne^emnrol t 
ChiU Penunr repreai'd their nettle rage, 
4nd ftose tne genial current of the aoul. 



I Bvon fieni Ihe temb tfi* lelee oftumtti cite 
Even fai oar adicB * Uve their wanted flret. 




C 



Full many a sem of purest ray serene 
The dark un&thom'd caves <n ocean beAr ; 
Full many a flower is hecn to blush unseen, 
And waste its sweetness on the desert atar. 

^me Tillage Hampden, that with dauntless breast 
The Utile tyntnti^hls fields withstood. 
Some mute inglorions Milton here may rest, 
Some Cromwdl, guiltless of his country's Uood. 

Eapplanae of listening senates to command, 
thoeats of pttbi and ruin to denise, 
cattsv pleitty o'er a smiling land, 
read their history in a nattonli eyes. 



con- 



•h- 



)ir lot forbade ; nor ebtnmscribe^ alone 
grewtag virtues, but thebr oimea 
fined; 
Forbade to wade throu^ slaughter to a throne. 
And shut the gates of mercy <mmaukind ; 

Tlte stnggling pangs of conscious Truth to hldej 
To qnen^ the blushes of ingenuous Shame, 
Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride 
With hioenae kindled at the Muse's flame. 

/ Far from tlie madding crowd's ignoble strife,* 
f Their sober wialies never leam'd to stray; 
, Along the cool sequester'd vale oEiilb 
^They kept the noiaeleas tenor of thdr way. 

,. Tet even these bones from insult to protect. 
Some frail memorial still oected nigh. 
With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture 

deck'd, 
implores the passing txlbnte of a si^. 

Their name, their years, ^elt by th' unletter'd 

Muse, 
The place of feme and degy supply. 
And manv a holy test around she strews. 
That teach the matio moralist to die. 

For who to dumb Foraetftdness a prey 
This pleatfng unions oetaig e'er resign'd. 
Left tne warm precincts ofme cheenUl oar. 
Nor cast one longing, lingering look bdtind ? 

On some fend breast the pq^rting soul relies. 
Some pious drops the closing eye reipiires ; 



* This part ef the Elegy differs from the first 
edition; and the following stanzas ocei^ed the 
l-lace of those whieh now appear. 

The thooditless wosld to mi(}cs^ majbow. 
Exalt the Dcave, and idolize success ; 
But more to innocence their safety owe. 
Than powor or genius e'er conspired to bless. 

And thou, who mindftal ofth' unhononr'd dead,' 
Dost in thiese notes their artless tale relate, 
ni^it and lonely contemplation led, 
o wander in the gloomy walks of &te. 

Hark! bow the sacred calm that breathes around, 
3ids erery fierce tumultuous passloD cease. 
In stiU small accosts whiqperingfhnn the ground, 
A grateftil earnest of eternal peace. 

No more with reason or tlmelf at strife, 
Give anxious cares and endless wishes room ; 
But, through the cool seauester'd vale of llfe^ 
Pursue thOxdlent tenor or thy doom. 



n 



foe thee, who mlndftd ef lb' vdmioui'd dead, 

: in these Unas thdr artlaas tale leUte, 
If chance, by lonely oontemplatlon led, 
^Some khodied spiAt shall inquiiv thy fetov. 

Haply some hoeiy-headed swain may say^ 
" Oft have we seen him at the neep of dawn. 
Brushing wltii hasty steps the dews away. 
To aaeet die sun upon the upland lawn. 

'^There, at the foot of jonder noddbig beech. 
That wreathes its old nntastic root so hi^ 
His listless length at noontide would he stretrh. 
And pose upon the brook that bubbles by. 

~** Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in soom. 
Muttering bis wayward fencJes he would rove; 
Now drooping, wofnl wan I like oneforlom. 
Or crated wim care, or eross'd in hopeless love. 

'* One i!hom I miss'd him on the custom'd bill. 
Along the heath, f and near his feyourite tree : 
Another came; nor yet beside the rill. 
Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he ! 

'* The next, with dirges due, in sad array. 
Slow oiiwush the cnurchway-patfa we saw 

borne: 

Approach, and read [fat thou canst read) the lay 
OxaTed on the stone beneath yon aged thom."f 



blm 



V 



THE EPITAPH. 



HERE rests his head upon (he lap of earth, 
A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown ; 
Fair Science frown'd not on his humble btrth. 
And Melancholy mark'd him for her own. 

Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere ; 

Heaven did a recompense as largely send: 

He gave to Misery (all he had) a tear; 

He gain'd from Heaven (twas all he wisb^d) a friend* 

No further seek his merits to dlsdosi^ 
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode. 
(There they alike in trembling hope repose }) 
The bosom of his Fatho: and bis Ood. 



' ♦ ' * • y 



|M>« ^ 



/S^^^JMa U iuA 



EPITAPH 
ON MRS. MARY CLARKE.| 

LO! where flds silent marble weeps, 
A friend, a wife, a mother sleqps : 
A heart, within whose sacred cell 
The peaceful Virtues loved to dwdl : 

* .Ch'i' veg^o nA pensier, doloe mio foeo, 
Fredda una lingua, et duo begli occhi chiusi 
Rimaner doppo noi pien dl feville. 

Petrarch, Son. 170. 
t Mr. Gray forgot, when he displaced, by the 
preceding stniza, nis beantifUl description of ihe 
evening haunt^ the reference to it which he had 
here left: 

Him have we seen the greenwood side along. 
While o'er the heath we hied, our labour done. 
Oft as tlie woodlark piped her feftwell song. 
With wistful eyes pursue the setting sun. 

i In the early editions the following lines were 
added, but the parenthesis was thouf^t too long : 

There scatter'd oft, the earliest of the year. 
By hands unseen, are showers of violets found ; 
The redbreast loves to build and warble there. 
And little footsteps li^tly print the ground. 

Paventosa speme. Petrarch, Son. 115. 

This lady, the wife of Dr. Clarke, phyaidaa at 
Epsom, died April «7ih, 1757, and is buried in tiw 
church of Beckenhatp, Kent. 







IS 



.,dBdfbltli 
Aad toft hnmanltj wan thoe. 
la Mtaqr. In daath. iwiffn'd. 
She wit UM troonu die l«ft behind. 
Her infcnt ina^B ban bdow. 
Sits BniiUagaQ •fiMbar's vo» 
Whom vhat awaits whila jet lia atrayi 
Along tfie londy vala of days? 
A pang, to Mcsajt wrow dear* 
A d^ an anavailiag tear. 
Till time dual efcrj giief remove, 
With Mb, with menaoii, and with love. 



TRANSLATION 

TROM STATiyS. 

THIRD in ttie laboanof thadidc came on. 
With itanly step and slow. Hlppomedan ; 
Aitftil and strong be potoed the wdl-known wd{ 
Bj Phl^cjas wani'd, and fixed by Mnesthcus' 
lliat to avoid, and this to emnlate. 
His vigorous arm he tried before he flmig, 
Braoed all his nerves and every sinew strattg. 
Then with a tempest's whirl and wary eye, 
Piinoed his cast, and hurl'd the orb on high; 
The orb on high, tenacious of its coune, 
Troe to tlM nui^tjr arm that gave it itnoe. 



Far ovwtans an bond^ andjoyatoace 

Its anctaiiioid secme of vidoiy : 

The ttMStie^ own height and woody watt 

Trembles ete ft pradpitates Us &U : 

The poaderoos mass sinks in die cieavinf gtound. 

While vales and woods and aehotag hlUs iMiaand. 

As wlien from Etna's smokiM sommit Inotej 

The eyeless Cyclops heaved tut eraggy rock. 

Where Ocean frets beneath the dasb&g oar. 

And parting inigos mond the veaiel roar; 

*Twas there he aim'd the meditated harm. 

And scarce Ulysse* 'scaped Ids giant arm. 

A tiaer's pride the victor bone awn. 

With nadve spoU and artftil labour gay. 

A ihinlng bonier voond tlie maigiB raU'd, 

And calm'd the leiraa of his claws in guU. 



GRAY ON HIBfSBLF. 



TOO poor te ^biibc, and too vtaod to 

He liad not fltaa method of m^InK a fictmw ; 

Coold love and ooold hate, so twas OMNight 

thiiwodd; 
No vary great wit, he believed in a God : 
A post or a pension he did not desire. 
Bat Ml dnndk and state to Charica 

and Squire. 



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THE LIFE 



or 



WILLIAM SOMERVlLE. 



WILLIAM SOMERVILB, dcMsended firom an 
ancieat and hanooxaUe fiunilj, was bom in 169X, 
at Editoa, in Warwiekahlic, a aeat inhaited by his 
anoettan thfoa^ioat a long series of succ es s i on. 
He mendons himself in his Ode to General Stan* 
hope dwt he was bom near ATon"* tvimding'ttrtam, 
Somervile was edncated at Winchester school, 
and afterwards elected ftUow of New CoHese, Ox- 
ford. It does not appear that he exhiUted any 
estraoaKlinaiy pirooih of genius or literature either 
at Winchester or Oxford. His poetical powers 
were first displayed in an Ode to the Doke of Marl- 
bocaa^, »when the ministers of Qi^een Anne re- 
moved him firom all his places. And this produe- 
ti<m stands hlfl^ amongst the distinguished ocm- 
positims of that time. 

In the ceantxy, where he dilefly veridad, he was 
mucih. re sp ec t e d as an aoeompUshed genflenum, an 
actire and sUlfU spo r ts m a n, and a nseftd Justice of 
the peaoe-oBural di-vcrriens did not wholly engross 
his attention, tor he deroted great part of liis time 
to the cultiration of dcgant literature, which en- 
abled him to embellish the subjects he wrote on, 
with the ornamental flowers of rhetoric, as well aa 
the pleasing harmony of Terstflcatlan; and thereby 
■how, that it is practicable to be a* once a skilfiil 
sportsman, and a man of lettsn. 

His hospitality ex c eeded the bounds of prudent 
economy, so that he Inqiaired his fortune, subjected 
tdmself to many distresses, incurred die oensuie of 
his more provident neighbours; and was reduced 
to tiie neoeaatly of concluding a bargain with James 
Lord Somervile, fiir -the rvfcrslon of his estate at 
his death. His oonneetloii with Lord Somervile, 
probably occasioned his poetical conre sp oadence 
widi Ramsay, who was patmnixed by that udde- 



He was die intimate firiend of Shenstone, who 
was his nei^bonr, and speaking of him, says, " I 
loved Mr. Somervile, because he knew so peribctly 
what bdonged to the flood-naneteiihiU-pilificatlflB 

if money.* 






In the latter part of bis life he wrote his principal 
poem, l%e Chatt which raised his reputation very 
high amongst spoartsmen and men of letters, and 
by which he is best known. 

Of the close of his lift, those whom his poems 
have delighted, will read with pain the fi>llowing 
account, copied firom the letters of his firiend Shen. 
stone, by whom he was too mucn resembled, as Dr> 
Johnson observes ; zefexring, as we suppose, to his 
want of economy. 

** Our old firiend Somervile is dead ! I did not 
imagine I could have been so sorry as I find myself 
upon this occasion. — Subtatum qumrbmu. 1 can 
now excuse all his lUbles, and impute them to age, 
and to distress of circumstances; the last of theee 
considerstlans wrings my very soul to think on. 
For a .man of high spirit, consdons of having (at 
least in one psodnctlon) generally pleased ttw world, 
to be jdaguod and threatened by vrretches that are 
low in every .sense; to lie fibrced to drink himself 
into pains of lutij, in order to get rid of the pains 
of the mind, is a misesy." 

He died July 19, 174S, and was buried at Wot 
ton, near Henley upon Azdm. His ^tate, inherit* 
ed fimn a long line of ancestors, devolved, accord, 
ing to a deed of law, to Lord Somervile, chargeable 
with a Jointure of slzlmttdred pounds a-year to his 
modier, who lived to the great' age of ninety. 

AAa poet, his characMr is given by Dr. Jobmoa 
tn the fbUowing mnrds : 

*' Somervile has tried imany .modes of poetry ; 
and though perhaps he has not in any reached such 
exceUence as to raise mndi envy, it may commonly 
be said at least, that * he vrrites very well for a 
gentleman.' His serious pieces am some ti mes ele- 
vated, and his ttifles are sometimes dq^ant. In 
bis vccMS to Addison, the couplet whicb mca ti oBS 
Ctio is written with the utmost delicacy of praise; 
it exhibits one of those happy strokes ttiat are seldom 
attained. In his Odet to Maribcrongh there aie 
bcttutifU lines; but In tite saooiid Ode, he shows 
that he knew little of his ben whfsn be talks of his 



or BOMnnvxui. 



private virtoM. EDi sulijeeti aie eammatdj such 
M nqnlra no grMt'depfli of thought, or energy of 
Hit ftUcc an gmenlly stale* and 
i«idta no aBiodly. Of hi* finoazite, 
J%* Tm» SpHmgt, tite fiction 1« nnnatoxal and the 
BMtal ineanaofiiaitial. In his tales then is too 
niMh CTTpTifflMW widi too little can of language, 
and not soiBoient npAdity of naxntion.'* 

*' His great waA is his Chmte, which ha under- 
took in his matnnr age, wlien his car was impnrrad 
to the approbation of blank fcne, of wUdi, .how- 
ever, his two fint lines gave a.bad specimen. To 
this poem pniae cannot be totally danied. Ha I* 
allowed by sportsmen to write with great InteUi- 
genoe of his subject, whidi is the first reqoisitsto 
excellence, and tfaongh it is impoedble to interest 
the eommon readers of vene in the dangers or 
pleasures of the chase, he has done all that tian- 
tition and Taiie^ could cAct; and has, with great 



propriety, enlarged his plan by the modes of hoat- 
ing used in otlier countries." 

*< Witfi still leas Judgment did heehooae blasik 
vene as die vehicle of Jhiruf Sporfo. If blank' 
be not tumid and .gasgeoos, it is crippled, 
and ^i""*""* images in laboured language have 
nothing to recommend ttiem but absurd novdtyj 
which, wanting the attractioo of natun, cannot 
pleeae long. lOne excdlence of the SpUmdtd SkilNtig 
is, that it it short. Uiguiae can gtatiliy no laager 
ttum it deceives.'* 

In jnstioe to our anduar; we must impute the 
severity of some of tUs great critic's remazka^ to 
the unreasonable dislike ,he entertained fbr Uank 
verse and burlesque poetry; fiirSomerrile atoodin 
a very reqpectaUe ll^t in the esHmatioo of hit 
contemporaries, and hisCh«e is written with equal 
vigour and elegance, and Juady ranks among the 
fint didactic poems'in the Englidi language. 



PREFACE. 



THE old and inflrm have at kail this iniTilege, 
that thc7 can lecaU to their mhtdt thote mcbm of 
jof in wfaldi thflj onoe ddi^ted, and magnate 
over their past pleamicty vith a latigfiKtion almott 
•qoai tothe-flnt aOognnant. For tiiaw ideas, to 
vhich any agreeable wiiaatioa ii anneaed, an easily 
cadted ; as Icaring bdtind the most strong and 
pannaaent impressloos. The amnsmants of oar 
joatii are the boast and eomfinrt of oar decUidiig 
years. The ancients canled this notion even yet 
ftrtlier, and supposed their heroes in die Elydan 
Adds were fiond of the very same diTerrions th^ 
exercised on earth. Death itself could not -vean 
them from the accnstomed sports and gayetles of 
lift. 

Part OB tlie grassy'orqne thdr pliant limbs 
In wrestling exercise, or on the sands 
Straggling dispate the pilse. Part lead the ring. 
Or swdl the ehonu with alternate lays. 
The diief their arms admhoii their empty can* 
Their lances fix'd in earth. Th* nnhamess'd 

steeds 
Graae onrestrain'd; hones, and 0ars, and arms. 
All the same find deabes, and pleasing cares. 
Still hannt their shades, and after death surrive. 

rirg. JBaeid. vL 

I hope, therefore, I may be indulged (even by 
the noic graTe and oensorioas part of mankind) if, 
at my leisare boors, I ran orer. In my elbow-chair, 
some of those chaiw which were onoe the delight 
of a mora Tigoroos age. It is an entertaining, and 
(as I conoeiTe) a Teiy innocent amusement. The 
resnlt of these rambling imaginations will be finind 
in the firilowing poem ; which if e<iually diTerting 
to ny leaden, as to myself, I shall haTs gained my 
end. I haTB Intermixed the precep tl Te parts with 
so many dcscr^itlaaa and digressioBS in the Gcoc]^ 
manner, that I hope fliey will not be tedions. I 
am sore they an very necessary to be well under- 
stood by any gendeman, who woold eq)oy this noUe 
sport in ftiU peiftetioB. In this at least I may 
oomftrt mysdl^ diat I cannot tnspass upon their 
patience won than Markham, Blome, and die 
other prose writen upon this subject. 



It is most certain, that hunting was die exerdse 
of the greatest heroes in antiquity. By this they 
formed diemselTes for war; and their exploits 
against wild beasts wen a prelude to dieir other 
Tietoxles. Xenophon says, diat almost all the 
andent heroes, Nestor, Theseus, Castor, PeUnz, 
Ulyases, Diomedes, Achilles, Sec wen dlsdples of 
hunting, being tau^t carrfUly that art, as what 
would be highly serviceable to them ;in military 
^sdpline. Xm. CgfugMe. And Pliny obserreSk 
those who were deagped tor great captains, wen 
first tan^t etrtart emu fligadhu ftrU ewtam, tmm 
audaeHnu nbore, cum eaUidit tutu t to contest with 
the swiftest wild beasts, in speed, with the boldest. 
In strengdi, widi the moat cunning, in craft and 
snbtilty. Pit*. Poiugyr. And the Roman cmper^ 
ors, in those monuments they erected to transmit 
their acUons to fiitura ages, made BO senq^ to Join 
the paries of the chase to tfadr most odebnOcd 
txh^npha. Neither wen thefar poets wanting to do 
Justice to diis benrie exercise. Besides that of 
Onpian in Greek, we have several poems in Latin 
upon hunting. We mi^t indeed have exp e c t e d 
to have seen it treated mon at large by Vligil In 
his third Georgic, since it is exprsssly part of his 
subject. But he lias &vanred us only with ten 
vcnes } and what he says of dogs, relates wholly to 
greyhounds and mastiffs : 

The greyhound swift, and mastiff^ fbrloosbaeed. 

And he directs us to feed them with butter-milk. 
Pa$c« teropingul. He has, it is true, touched upon 
the chase in the 4th and 7th books of dieiBneid. 
But It is evident that the art of hunting is very 
diffirent now ftom what it was in his days, and 
very much altered and improved in these latter 
ages. It does not appear to me that the andenis 
had any notion flfpunuiDg wild beasts by the seen 
only, with a rfgnlar and well disciplined pack of 
hoands; and therefine they most have paaMdftr 
poacben amongst our modem sportsmen. The 
master-roll given v by Ovid, in his story of Ac 
tteoo, is of all sorts of dogs, and of all oeaatries. 
And the desaiption of the andent hunthig, as we 
find it in the antiq^tlas of Pen de MontftuoeM. 



takenfirom tAe Mpulchxe of the NaMt, and the 
■n* of Cotutantine, haanotthe leart trace of the 
manner now hi uie. 

Whenefer tfaeandents mention dogs Ibllowfaig 
bjthe Kent, thejmeanno more than findhigont 
thegame hjthenoaeof oaeahiffledofc. Thtawas 

a* much aa thcgr ^nev of the odora canwn «i«. Thus 
Nimatiantu lagri, 

Th^ challenge on the mead the recent stains. 
And trail the hare unto her secret form. 

Opplan has a long description of these dogs in his 
fim book, from Ter. 479 to 586. And here, though 

he seems to describe the hunting of the haie by the 
scent, through many turnings and windings, yet he 
waUy says no more, than that one of those hounds 
finds out the game : for he foUows the scent no far- 
ther than the hare's form; from whence, after he 
has started her, he pursues her by sight. I am 
iodabted fiir these two lastvemasks to a reverend 

and very learned gentleman, whose Judgment in the 
MZes Utnt nobody disputes, and whose approbation 

gave nae the assoranoe to publish this poem. 
Oppian atsDobserros, that the best sort of these 

finden were brought £nnn Britain ; this island haT- 
ing always been fiunoos (as it is at diis d^) fiar the 
best breed of hounds, for penons the best skilled in 
theartof fauatfaig, and for bones the most enduing 
•» follow the chase. It is thenfon strange that 
noM of our poets hawyetthMg^t it wortbtbdlr 
wWle to tTMrt of lUa subjeoi; which is wtthoot 
doubt wy noble in itsdi^ and -very well adapted to 
recelTB Oe most beantifU turns of poetry. Periiapa 
oar poets have no great fsnius for hunting. Yetl 
boje, mj biMfaitn of the ooqde^ byeneoonglng 
thisint^ but impeiftct essay, wiU diow the world 
(bey have at least sonoe taste for poetry. | 



The ancients esteemed hunting not only as a 
manly and warlike exercise, but as highly oon. 
ducire to health. The fiunous Galen recommends 
it above aU others, as not only exercising the body 
but giving delight and entertainment to the mind. 
And he caUs the taventors of this art wise men 

and weU skilled hi human nature. Lib. d* parv^ 
film aeereUio, 

The gentlen^en who are fond of a jhigle at the 
close of every verse, and think no poem truly mnsi- 
oal but what is hi rhyme, wiU here find themselves 
disappointed. If they be pleased to read over the 
short preface before the Paradise Lost, Mr. Smith's 
poem hi memory of his friend B*r. John Philips, 
«id the Archbishop of Cambray's letter to Momieiir 
FonteneUe, they may probably be of another opfai- 
ion. Pot my own part, I shall not be ashamed to 
follow the example of Milton, Philips, Th4wison 
and all our best tragic writers. ' 

Some &w terms of art are dispeaed here and 
there; but such onlyasare absolufelj reqnislta to 
apUhimysaliJect. I hope in this tlM eiitiaa win 
«*eme me; for 1 am humWy of opfakm, that the 

affectatfam, and not the neoeasaiy vsc, ia the ntoiwr 
object of their censure. ^^ 

Butlhavedene. I know the fanpaticDee of my 
brethrei^ whana fineday^ and the conowt of the 
kennel, invite them abroad. I shaU thenfore leave 
my reader to such divenien, ashe may find in the 
pocnitsel£ 

Hark, awa^. 
Cast fox bcUnd the Uqgarfa« cares of life^ 
Cithseron calls aloud, and in foil cry 
Thy hounds, Taygetus. Epidaurus trains 
For us the generoDB steed; the hnnter*k shoate 
And eheeiing cries, asssQtiiv woods rctun. 



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MINOR POEMS. 



ALLAN BAMSAY, 



ODES. 



ANODE 



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MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 



LAMBNTATION OF DAVID 



J^ 



Adieu, fond hope^ ftntastlo cares. 
Ye killing joys, ye pleasing pains ! 

Mt Mol for better guests p^Mures ; 
Heaaon restored, and TirUie reigns. 

Bat why, mj Cloe ! tell me why, 
WhT trickles down this silent tear ? 

Wlrr do these blushes rise and die ? 
Why stand I mute when thou art here t 

Eren sleep aflFbxds my soul no rest. 
Thee bathing in the stream I TieW; 

With thee I dance, with thee I feast. 
Thee through the gloomy Tale pursue. 

Triumphant god rfgay desires ! 

Thy vassal's raging pains remove ; 
I bum, I bum, tnih fiercer fires. 

Oh! take n^ li&, or crown my lore. 



ADVICE TO THE LADIES. 



WHO now regards Chkaris^, her tears, and her 

whming. 
Her sixths, and fimd wishes, and atwlcward repining? 
What a pother is here, wiUi her amorous glances. 
Soft flragpnents of Qvidt and scraps of romances \ 

A nice prude at'fifkeen ! and a romp in decay ! 
Cold December afi^ts the sweet blossoms of May ; 
To fiiwn in her dotage, and in her bloom spum us. 
Is to quench lore's oright torch, and with touch* 
wood to bum us. 

Believe me, dear maids ! tliere's no way of evading^ 
While you pish and cry Nay, your roses are fiding : 
Though your passion survive, your beauty WUl 

dwindle. 
And our languishing embers can never rekindle. 

When bright Inyour zenidis, we prostrate before je; 
When ye set in a cloud, what fool will adore ye ? 
Then, ye fair! be advised, and snatch the kind 

blesting. 
And show your good conduct by timely 



HUNTING SONG. 



BEHOLD, mv friend, the rosy.finger'd mom, 
Witii blushes on her face. 
Peeps o'er yon azure hill: 



Rich gems the trees enchase. 
Pearls from each bush distil. 
Arise, arise, and haii the light new-bom. 

Hark! hark! tilie menry horn calls, Come away t 

Quit, quit the downy bed ; 

Sreak nom Amynta's arms; 

Oh, let it ne'er be said. 

That all, that all her charms. 
Though she's as Venus foir, can tempt thy stay. 

Perplex thy soul no more with caret below. 

For what will pelf avail ! 

Thy courser paws the ground. 

Each beagle cocks his tail, 

ThCTf spend their mouths around. 
While health and pleasure smiles on every brow. 

Try, huntsman, all the brakes, spread all the plaln« 

Now, now, she's gone away. 

Strip, stripfwith speed pursue ; 

The jocund god or day. 

Who fain our sport would view. 
See, see, he flogs his fiery steed in vain. 

Poux down, like a flood from the hUis, brave boys. 

On ue wings of the wind 

The merry beagles fly ; 

Dull sorrow lags behind* 

Yet shall echoes Mply ; 
Catch each flying sound, and double oar joys. 

Ye rocks, woods, and caves, our mudc repeat 

Toe bright spheres thua above, 

A gay refulgent train. 

Harmoniously move 

O'er von celestial plain, ^ 

lake OS whxrl along, in concert so sweet. 

Now puss threads the brakes, and heavily files. 

At the head of the pack 

Old Fidler bean the bell. 

Every foil he hunts back, 

And aloud rings her knell. 
Till, forced into view, she pants and she dies. 

In life's dull round thus we tofl, and we sweet ; 

Disease, giie^ and pain. 

An implacable crew. 

While we double in vain, 

Unrelenting pursue. 
Till, quite himtedTaown, we yield with regret. 

This moment is ours, come live while we may. 

What's decreed by dark fiite 

Is not in our own power. 

Since to-morrow's too late. 

Take the present kind hour: 
With wine cheer the night, as sports bless the day. 



FINIS 



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