Let this fuffice: nor thou, great faint, refuse
This humble tribute of no vulgar mufe:
Who, not by cares, or wants, or age depreft,
Stems a wild deluge with a dauntless breast;
And dares to fing thy praises in a clime
Where vice triumphs, and virtue is a crime;
Where e'en to draw the picture of thy mind,
Is fatire on the moft of human kind:
Take it, while yet 'tis praise; before my rage,
Unfafely juft, break loofe on this bad age;
So bad, that thou thyself hadft no defence
From vice, but barely by departing hence.
Be what, and where thou art: to wifh thy place,
Were, in the beft, prefumption more than grace.
Thy relics, (fuch thy works of mercy are).
Have, in this poem, been my holy care.
As earth thy body keeps, thy foul the fky,
So fhall this verse preserve thy memory;
For thou shalt make it live, because it fings of thee.
WAS on a joyless and a gloomy morn,
Wet was the grafs, and hung with pearls
the thorn;
When Damon, who defign'd to pass the day
With hounds and horns, and chace the flying prey,
Rofe early from his bed; but foon he found
The welkin pitch'd with fullen clouds around,
An eastern wind, and dew upon the ground.
Thus while he ftood, and fighing did furvey
The fields, and curft th' ill omens of the day,
He faw Menalcas come with heavy pace;
Wet were his eyes, and chearless was his face:
He wrung his hands, distracted with his care,
And fent his voice before him from afar.
Return, he cry'd, return, unhappy swain,
The fpungy clouds are fill'd with gathering rain:
The promise of the day not only cross'd,
But e'en the spring, the spring itself is lost.
Amyntas---oh !---he could not speak the rest,
Nor needed, for prefaging Damon guess'd.
Equal with heaven young Damon lov'd the boy,
The boast of nature, both his parents joy.
His graceful form revolving in his mind;
So great a genius, and a foul fo kind,
Gave fad affurance that his fears were true;
Too well the envy of the gods he knew:
For when their gifts too lavishly are plac'd,
Soon they repent, and will not make them laft.
For fure it was too bountiful a dole,
The mother's features, and the father's foul.
Then thus he cry'd: the morn bespoke the news:
The morning did her chearful light diffuse:
But see how suddenly the chang'd her face,
And brought on clouds and rain, the day's dif
Juft fuch, Amyntas, was thy promis'd race. What charms adorn'd thy youth, where nature fmil'd,
And more than man was giv'n us in a child!
His infancy was ripe : a foul fublime
In years fo tender that prevented time:
Heaven gave him all at once; then snatch'daway, Ere mortals all his beauties could survey :
Just like the flower that buds and withers in a day.
The mother, lovely, tho with grief opprest,
Reclin'd his dying head upon her breaft.
The mournful family ftood all around;
One groan was heard, one univerfal found :
All were in floods of tears and endless forrow drown'd.
So dire a fadnefs fat on ev'ry look,
E'en death repented he had giv'n the stroke.
He griev'd his fatal work had been ordain'd,
But promis'd length of life to those who yet remain'd.
The mother's and her eldest daughter's grace,
It seems, had brib'd him to prolong their space.
The father bore it with undaunted foul,
Like one who durft his destiny controul :
Yet with becoming grief he bore his part,
Refign'd his fon, but not refign'd his heart:
Patient as Job; and may he live to fee,
Like him, a new increafing family!
Such is my wish, and such my prophesy. For yet, my friend, the beauteous mould remains; Long may the exercise her fruitful pains!
But, ah! with better hap, and bring a race
More lafting, and endu'd with equal grace
Equal fhe may, but farther none can go :
For he was all that was exact below.
MENAL CAS.
Damon, behold yon breaking purple cloud; Hear'ft thou not hymns and fongs divinely loud? There mounts Amyntas; the young cherubs play About their godlike mate, and fing him on his way. He cleaves the liquid air, behold he flies, And every moment gains upon the skies. The new come guest admires th' ætherial state, The faphir portal, and the golden gate; And now admitted in the fhining throng, He shows the passport which he brought along. His passport is his innocence and grace, Well known to all the natives of the place. Now fing, ye joyful angels, and admire Your brother's voice that comes to mend
Sing you, while endless tears our eyes bestow;
For like Amyntas none is left below.
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