Obrazy na stronie
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Nor with less transport here the goddess sees Her rural slaves their absent victor mourn, The curious piece advance by slow degrees; And wish not liberty, but her return. At last such skill in every part was shown, The conquer'd countries droop, while she's away, It seem'd a new creation of her own;

And slowly to the Spring their contribution pay. She starts, to view the finish'd figure rise,

While cooing turtles, doubly now alone, And spread his ample train, enrich'd with eyes ; With their lost loves another loss bemoan. To see, with lively grace, his form express'd,

Mean time in peopled cities crowds press on, The stately bonours of his rising crest,

And jealous seem who shall be first undone.
His comely wings, and his soft silky breast ! Victories, like Fame, before th' invader fly,
The leaves of creeping vines around him play, And lovers yet unseeing haste to die.
And Nature's leaves less perfect seem than they. While she with careless, unelated mind,

O matchless bird! whose race, with nicest care, Hears daily conquests which she ne'er desiga'd;
Hearen seems in pleasure to have form’d so fair! In her a soft, yet cruel heart is found,
From whose gay plumes ev'n Phoebus with delight Averse to cure, and vainly griev'd to wound.
Sees his own rays reflected doubly bright!
Though numerous rivals of the wing there be
That share our praise, when not compar'd to thee,
Soon as thy rising glories strike our eyes,

WRITTEN IN A LADY'S PRAYER-BOOK. Their beauty shines no more, their lustre dies. So fair a form, with such devotion join'd! So when Molinda, with superior charms,

A virgin body, and a spotless mind! Dazzles the ring, and other nymphs disarms, Pleas'd with her prayers, while Heaven propitious To her the rallying Loves and Graces fly,

The lovely votress on her bended knees, (sees And, fixing there, proclaim the victory. No wonder, then, since she was born t' excel,

Sure it must think some angel lost its way, This bird's fair image she describes so well,

And happening on our wretched Earth to stray, Happy, as in some temple thus to stand,

Tir'd with our follies, fain would take its flight, humortaliz'd by her successful band.

And begs to be restor’d to those blest realms of light.

ON

ODE ON THE SPRING.

FOR THE MONTH OF MAY.
LUCIND.IS TEA-TABLE.

Wanton Zephyr, come away!
Poets
OETS invoke, when they rehearse

On this sweet, this silent grove,
In happy strains their pleasing dreams,

Sacred to the Muse and Love, Some Muse unseen to crown their verse,

In gentle whisper'd murmurs play! And boast of Heliconian streams :

Come, let thy soft, thy balmy breeze

Diffuse thy vernal sweets around But here, a real Muse inspires

From sprouting flowers, and blossom'd trees; (Who more revivmg streams imparts)

While hills and echoing vales resound Our fancies with the poets' fires,

With notes, which wing'd musicians sing And with a nobler Hame our hearts.

In honour to the bloom of Spring. While from her hand each honour'd guest

Lovely season of desire! Receives his cup with liquor crown'd,

Nature smiles with joy to see He thinks 'tis Jove's immortal feast,

The amorous Months led on by thee, And Venus deals the nectar round.

That kindly wake her genial fire.

The brightest object in the skies, As o'er each fountain, poets sing,

The fairest lights that shine below,
Some lovely guardian-nymph has sway,

The Sun, and Mira's charming eyes,
Who from the consecrated spring,
Wild beasts and satyrs drives away;

At thy return more charming grow:

With double glory they appear,
So bither dares no savage press,

To warm and grace the infant Year.
Who Beauty's sovereign power defies;
All, drinking here, her charms confess,
Proud to be conquer'd by her eyes.

HORACE,
When Phoebus try'd his herbs in vain

On Hyacinth, had she been there,
With tra she would have cur'd the swain,

The design of this ode was to insinuate to Augustus Who unny then had dy'd for her.

the danger of transferring the seat of the empire | January 1, 1701.

from Rome to Troy, which we are informed he

once entertained thoughts of.

The man to right inflexibly inclin’d,
TUE MARCH.

Poising on virtue's base his mind,
Victoria comes! she leaves the forag'd groves !

Rests in himself secure,
Her tly a camp of Graces and of Loves

Indissolubly firm in good;
Strike me their tents, and for the march prepare, Låt tempests rise, and billows rage,

And to new scenes of triumph wait the fair. All rock within, he can unmov'd endure
16
Trike the slaves which other warriors gain,

The foaming fury of the flood, that loath sutjection, and would break their chain, / Whea bellowing winds their jarring troops engage,

ODE III. BOOK II.

F

Or wasteful civil tumults roll along

“ Let Rome extend her fame to every shoro; With fiercer strength, and louder roar,

And let no banks or mounds restrain Driving the torrent of the throng,

Th' impetuous torrent of her wide command ; And gathering into power.

The seas from Europe, Africk part in vain;
Let a proud tyrant cast a killing frown;

Swelling above those floods, her power
Or Jove in angry thunder on the world look down; Shall, like its Nile, o'erflow the Lybian land,
Nay, let the frame of Nature crack,

Shining in polish'd steel, she dares
And all the spacious globe on high,

The glittering beams of gold despise, Shatter'd with universal rack,

Gold, the great source of human cares, Come tumbling from the sky:

Hid wisely deep from mortal eves, Yet he'll survey the horrid scene

Till, sought in evil hour by hands unblest,
With steady courage and undaunted mien,

Opening the dark abodes,
The only thing serene!

There issued forth a direful train of woes,
Thus Pollux and great Hercules [round, That give mankind no rest;
Roam'd through the world, and blest the nations For gold, devoted to th' infernal gods,
Till, rais'd at length to heavenly palaces,

No native human uses knows. Mankind, as gods, their benefactions crown'd;

“ Where'er great Jove did place With these, Augustus shall for ever shine,

The bounds of Nature yet unseen, And stain his rosy lips in cups divine.

He meant a goal of glory to the race Thus his fierce tigers dauntless Bacchus bear;

The Roman arms shall win: The glaring savages resist in vain,

Rejoicing, onward they approach Impatient of the bit, and fretting on the rein;

To view the outworks of the world, Through yielding clouds he drives th’impetuous car.

The maddening fires, in wild debauch, (whirl'd! Great Romulus pursued the shining trace,

The snows and rains unborn, in endless eddies And leapt the lake, where all The rest of mortals fall,

'Tis I, O Rome, pronounce these fates behind, And with his father's horses scour'd the same bright But will thy reign with this condition bind, airy race.

That no false filial piety, Then in full senate of the deities,

In idle shapes deluding thee,

Or confidence of power,
Settling the seats of power, and future fate,
Juno began the high debate,

Tempt thee again to raise a Trojan tower;
And with this righteous sentence pleas'd the skies:

Troy, plac'd beneath malignant stars,

Haunted with omens still the same, O Troy!” she said,

“O hated Troy! A foreign woman', and a boy ®,

Rebuilt, shall but renew the former flame,
Lewd, partial, and unjust,

Jove's wife and sister leading on the wars.
Shook all thy proudest towers to dust;

Thrice let her shine with brazen walls,
Inclin'd to ruin from the time

Reard up by heavenly hands:
Thy king did mock two powers divine,

And thrice in fatal dust she falls,
And ras'd thy fated walls in perjury,

By faithful Grecian bands;
But doubly damn’d by that offence,

Thrice the dire scene shall on the world return,
Which did Minerva's rage incense,

And captive wives again their sons and husbands

mourn."
And offer'd wrong to me.
No more the treacherous ravisher

But stop, presumptuous Muse, thy daring flight,
Shines in full pomp and youthful charms;

Nor hope in thy weak lyric lay, Nor Priam's impious house with Hector's spear,

The heavenly language to display, Repels the violence of Grecian arms.

Or bring the counsels of the gods to light, “ Our feuds did long embroil the mortal rout,

At last the storm is spent,
My fury with it ebbing out,

GREENWICH-PARK,
These terms of peace content;

The Paphian isle was once the blest abode
To Mars I grant among the stars a place

Of Beauty's goddess and her archer-god. For his son Romulus, of Trojan race;

There blissful bowers and amorous shades were seen, Here shall he dwell in these divine abodes,

Fair cypress walks, and myrtles ever green.
Drink of the heavenly bowl,

'Twas there, surrounded by a hallow'd wood, And in this shining court his name enrol,

Sacred to Love, a splendid temple stood; With the serene and ever-vacant gods: Where altars were with costly gums perfum'd, While seas shall rage between his Rome and Troy. And lovers sighs arose, and smoke from hearts con. The horrid distance breaking wide,

sum'd: The banish'd Trojans shall the globe enjoy, Till, thence remov'd, the queen of beauty flies And reign in every place beside;

To Britain, fam'd for bright victorious eyes. While beasts insult my judge's dust, and hide Here fix'd, she chose a sweeter seat for Love, Their litter in his cursed tomb,

And Greenwich-park is now her Cyprian grove, The shining Capitol of Rome

Nor fair Parnassus with this hill can vie, Shall overlook the world with awful pride, (dome, which gently swells into the wondering sky, And Parthians take their law from that eternal Commanding all that can transport our sight,

And varying with each view the fresh delight. 6 Romulus was supposed to be the son of Mars From hence my Muse prepares to wing her way, by the priestess Ida.

And wanton, like the Thames, through smiling meads Helen. $ Paris. Paris.

would stray:

9

Describe the groves beneath, the sylvan bowers, Her sighing lovers, who in crowds adore,
The river's winding train,and great Augusta's towers. Would wish thy place, did they not wish for more.

But see! a living prospect drawing near What angels are, when we desire to know,
At once transports, and raises awful fear!

We form a thought by such as she below, Love's favourite band, selected to maintain And thenceconclade they're bright beyond compare, His choicest triumphs, and support his reign. Compos'd of all that's good, and all that's fair. Muse, pay thy homage here-yet oh beware! There yet remains unnam'd a dazzling throng And draw the glorious scene with artful care, Of nyinphs, who to these happy shades belong, For foolish praise is satire on the fair.

O Venus! lovely queen of soft desires! Behold where bright Urania does advance, For ever dwell where such supply thy fires ! And lightens through the trees with every glance! May Virtue still with Beauty share the sway, A careful pleasure in her air is seen ;

And the glad world with willing zeal obey !
Diana shines with such a graceful mien,
When in her darling woods she's feign'd to rove,
The chase pursuing, and avoiding love.
At flying deer the goddess boasts her aim,
But Cupid shows the nymph a nobler game,

TO MOLINDA,
Th' unerring shafts so various fly around,

Th’inspiring Muses and the god of Love, "Tis hard to say which gives the deepest wound;

Which most should grace the fair Molinda strovę: Or if with greater glory we submit,

Love arm'd her with his bow and keenest darts, Pierc'd by her eyes, her humour, or her wit, See next her charming sister, young and gay,

The Muses more enrich'd her mind with arts, In beauty's bloom like the sweet month of May !

Though Greece in shining temples heretofore The sportful nymph, once in the neighbouring The ancients thought no single goddess fit,

Did Venus and Minerva's powers adore,
grove,

To reign at once o'er Beauty and o'er Wit;
Surpris'd by chance the sleeping god of Love;
His head reclin'd upon a tuft of green,

Each was a separate claim; till now we find
And by him scatter'd lay his arrows bright and keen; From hence, when at the court, the park, the play,

The different titles in Molinda join'd,
She tied his wings, and stole his wanton dart,

She gilds the evening, or improves the day,
Then, laughing, wak'd the tyrant lord of hearts;
He smil'd, -and said " 'Tis well, insulting fair!

All eyes regard her with transporting fire,
Yet how you sport with sleeping Love beware!

One sex with envy burns, and one with fierce desire :

But when withdrawn from public show and noise, My loss of darts I quickly can supply, Your looks shall triumph for Love's deity :

In silent works her fancy she employs, And though you now my feeble power disdain,

A smiling train of Arts around her stand, You once perhaps may feel a lover's pain.”

And court improvement from her curious hand. Though Helen's form, and Cleopatra's charms,

She, their bright patroness, o'er all presides, The boast of Fame, once kindled dire alarnis;

And with like skill the pen and needle guides; Those dazzling lights the world no more must view, By this we see gay silken landscapes wrought, And scarce would think the bright description true, By that, the landscape of a beauteous thought:

Whether her voice in tuneful airs she moves,
Did not that ray of beauty, more divine,

Or cuts dissembled flowers and paper groves,
In Mira's eyes by transmigration shine.
Her shape, her air, proportion, lovely face,

Her voice transports the ear with soft delight, And matchless skin contend with rival grace;

Her flowers and groves surprise the ravish'd sight:

Which ev'n to Nature's wonders we prefer;
And Venus' self, proud of th' officious aid,
With all her charms adorns th' illustrious maid.

All but that wonder Nature form'd in her.
But hark!-what more than mortal sounds are

these!
Be still, ye whispering winds, and moving trees!
A second Mira does all hearts surprise,

A LETTER TO A FRIEND
At once victorious with her voice and eyes.
Her eyes alone can tenderest love inspire,
Her heavenly voice improves the young desire.
So western gales in fragrant gardens play

Whilst thou art happy in a blest retrcat,
On buds produc'd by the sun's quickening ray,

And free from care dost rural songs repeat, And spread them into life, and gently chide their Whilst fragrant air fans thy poetic fire, stay.

And pleasant groves with sprightly notes inspire, We court that skill, by which we're sure to die; (Groves whose recesses and refreshing shade The modest fair would fain our suit deny,

Indulge th' invention, and the judgment aid) And sings unwillingly with trembling fear,

I, midst the smoke and clamours of the town, As if concern'd our ruin is so near ;

That choke my Muse, and weigh my fancy down, So generous victors softest pity know,

Pass my unactive hours;And with reluctance strike the fatal blow.

In such an air, how can soft numbers Row,
Engaging Cynthia's arm'd with every grace;

Or in such soil the sacred laurel grow?
Her lovely mind shines cheerful through her face, All we can boast of the poetic fire,
A sacred lamp in a fair crystal case.

Are but some sparks that soon as born expire. Not Venus star, the brightest of the sphere,

Hail happy Woods! harbours of Peace and Joy! Smiles so serene, or casts a light so clear.

Where no black cares the mind's repose destroy! O happy brother of this wondrous fair!

Where grateful Silence unmolested reigns, The best of sisters well deserves thy care;

Assists the Muse, and quickens all her strains.

IN THE COUNTRY.

Such were the scenes of our first parents' love, The poison'd shaft, the Parthian bow, and spear
In Eden's groves with equal flames they strove, Like that 'the warlike Moor is wont to wield,
While warbling birds, soft whispering breaths of Which, pois’d and guided, from his ear
wind,

He hurls impetuous through the field; And murmuring streams, to grace their nuptials in vain you lace the helm, and heave in vain the join'd.

shield:
All nature smil'd; the plains were fresh and green, He's only safe, whose armour of defence
Unstain'd the fountains, and the heavens serene. Is adamantine innocence.
Ye blest remains of that illustrious age !

If o'er the steepy Alps he go,
Delightful Springs and Woods!--

Vast mountains of eternal snow, Might I with you my peaceful days live o'er,

Or where fam'd Ganges and Hydaspes flow; You, and my friend, whose absence I deplore,

If o'er parch'd Libya's desert land, Calm as a gentle brook's unruffed tide

Where threatening from afar Should the delicious flowing minutes glide;

Th' affrighted traveller Discharg'd of care, on unfrequented plains,

Encounters moving hills of sand; We'd sing of rural joys in rural strains.

No sense of danger can disturb his rest; No false corrupt delights our thoughts should move,

He fears no human force, nor savage beast; But joys of friendship, poetry, and love.

Impenetrable courage steels his manly breast. While others fondly feed ambition's fire, And to the top of human state aspire,

Thus, late within the Sabine grove, That from their airy eminence they may

While free from care, and full of love, With pride and scorn th' inferior world survey,

I raise my tuneful voice, and stray
Here we should dwell obscure, yet happier far than Regardless of myself and way,
they.

A grizly wolf, with glaring eye,
View'd me unarm’d, yet pass'd unhurtful by.

A fiercer monster ne'er, in quest of food,
VERSES PRESENTED TO A LADY,

Apulian forests did molest;

Numidia never saw a more prodigious beast; WITH A DRAWING (BY THE AUTHOR) OF CUPID. Numidia, mother of the yellow brood,

Where the stern lion shakes his knotted mane, When generous Dido in disguise caress'd

And roars aloud for prey, and scours the spacious This god, and fondly clasp'd him to her breast,

plain. Soon the sly urchin storm'd her tender heart, And amorous flames dispers'd through every part. Place me where no soft breeze of summer wind In vain she strove to check the new-born fire,

Did e'er the stiffen'd soil unbind, It scorn'd her weak essays, and rose the higher: Where no refreshing warmth e'er durst invade, In vain from feasts and balls relief she sought, But Winter holds his unmolested seat, The Trojan youth alone employ'd her thought: In all his hoary robes array'd, (beat. Yet Fate oppos’d her unrewarded care;

And rattling storms of hail, and noisy tempests Forsaken, scorn'd, she perish'd in despair.

Place me beneath the scorching blaze No such event, fair nymph, you need to fear, Of the fierce Sun's immediate rays, Smiles, without darts, alone attend him here; Where house or cottage ne'er were seen, Weak and unarm’d, not able to surprise,

Nor rooted plant or tree, nor springing green ;
He waits for influence from your conquering eyes. Yet, lovely Lalage, my generous flame
Heaven change the omen, then; and may this prove Shall ne'er expire; I'll boldly sing of thee,
A happy prelude to successful love!

Charm'd with the music of thy name,
And guarded by the gods of Love and Poetry.

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TO GROSPHUS.
Otium Divos rogat in patenti
Prensus Ægæo, &c.

IMITATED IN PARAPHRASE.

IMITATED IN PARAPHRASE.

Hence, slavish Fear! thy Stygian wings display!

Thou ugly fiend of Hell, away!
Wrapp'd in thick clouds, and shades of night,

To conscious souls direct thy flight!
There brood on guilt, fix there a loath'd embrace,

And propagate vain terrours, frights,

Dreams, goblins, and imagin'd sprights,
Thy visionary tribe, thy black and monstrous race.

Go, haunt the slave that stains his hands in gore!
Possess the perjur'd mind, and rack the usurer more,

Than his oppression did the poor before. Vainly, you feeble wretches, you prepare

The glittering forgery of war:

INDULG

LGENT Quiet! power serene,
Mother of Peace, and Joy, and Love!
O say, thou calm propitious queen,

Say, in what solitary grove,
Within what hollow rock, or winding cell,

By human eyes unseen,
Like some retreated Druid, dost thou dwell?

And why, illusive goddess' why,

When we thy mansion would surround,
Why dost thou lead us through enchanted ground,
To mock our vain research, and froin our wishes fiy

The vandering sailors, pale with fear,

Thee shining wealth and plenteous joys surround, For thee the gods implore,

And, all thy fruitful fields around, When the tempestuous sea runs high,

Unnumber'd herds of cattle stray. And when, through all the dark benighted sky, Thy harness'd steeds with sprightly voice No friendly moon or stars appear

Make neighbouring vales and hills rejoice, To guide their steerage to the shore:

While smoothly thy gay chariot flies o'er the swift For thee the weary soldier prays;

measur'd way. Farious in fight, the sons of Thrace,

To me the stars, with less profusion kind, And Medes, that wear majestic by their side

An humble fortune bave assign’d, A full-charg'd quiver's decent pride,

And no untuneful lyric vein, Gladly with thee would pass inglorious days,

But a sincere contented mind, Renounce the warrior's tempting praise, That can the vile malignant crowd disdain,

And buy thee, if thou might'st be sold, With gems, and purple vests, and stores of plunder'd

gold.

THE BIRTH OF THE ROSE.

FROM THE FRENCH.

But neither boundless wealth, nor guards that wait

Around the consul's honour'd gate,

Nor anti-chambers with attendants fill'd,
The mind's unhappy tumults can abate,

Or banish sullen cares, that fly
Across the gilded rooms of state,

And their foul nests, like swallows, build
Close to the palace-roofs, and towers that pierce the

sky.
Much less will Nature's modest wants supply;

And happier lives the homely swain,
Whô, in some cottage, far from noise,
His few paternal goods enjoys,
Nor knows the sordid lust of gain,

Nor with Fear's tormenting pain

His hovering steps destroys.
Vain man! that in a narrow space
At endless game projects the daring spear |

For short is life's uncertain race:
Then why, capricious mortal! why

Dost thou for happiness repair
To distant climates, and a foreign air?

Fool! from thyself thou canst not fly,

Thyself, the source of all thy care.
So flies the wounded stag, prorok'd with pain,

Bounds o'er the spacious downs in vain;
The feather'd torment sticks within his side,

And from the smarting wound a purple tide Marks all his way with blood, and dyes the grassy

plain. But swifter far is execrable Care

Than stays, or winds that through the skies Thick-driving snows and gather'd tempests bear; Pu: suing Care the sailing ship out-lies,

Climbs the tall vessel's painted sides;
Nor leaves arm'd squadrons in the field,

But with the marching horsemen rides, iad dwells alike in courts and camps, and makes all

places yield.
Then, since no state's completely blest,
Let's learn the bitter to allay
With gentle mirth, and wisely gay
Enjoy at least the present day,

And leave to Fate the rest.
Nor with vain fear of ills to come
Anticipate th' appointed doom.
Soon did Achilles quit the stage,

The hero fell by sudden death;
White Tithon to a tedious wasting age

Drew his protracted breath.
And thus old partial Time, my friend,
Perhaps, unask'd, to worthless me
Those hours of lengthen'd life may lend,

Which he'll refuse to thee.

Once, on a solemn festal day

Held by th' immortals in the skies,
Flora had summon'd all the deities

That rule o'er gardens, or survey
The birth of greens and springing flowers,

And thus address'd the genial powers.
“ Ye shining Graces of my courtly train,

The cause of this assembly know!

In sovereign majesty I reign
O'er the gay flowery universe below;
Yet, my increasing glory to maintain,
A queen I'll choose with spotless honour fair,

The delegated crown to wear.
Let me your counsel and assistance ask,

T'accomplish this momentous task.”
The deities that stood around,
At first return'da murmuring sound;
Then said, “ Fair goddess, do you know
The factious feuds this must create,
What jealous rage and mutual hate

Among the rival flowers will grow?
The vilest thistle that infests the plain

Will think his tawdry painted pride

Deserves the crown; and, if deny'd, Perhaps with traitor-plots, molest your reign."

“ Vain are your fears, Flora reply'd,
"Tis fix'd-and hear how l'll the cause decider

“ Deep in a venerable wood

Where oaks, with vocal skill endued,
Did wondrous oracles of old impart,
Beneath a little hill's inclining side,

A grotto's seen where Nature's art
Is exercis'd in all her smiling pride.

Retir'd in this sweet grassy cell,

A lovely wood-nymph once did dwell.
She always pleas'd; for more than mortal fire

Shone in her eyes, and did her charms inspire;
A Dryad bore the beauteous nymph, a Sylvan was

(her sire.
Chaste, wise, devout, she still obey'd
With humblé zeal Heaven's dread commands,
To every action ask'd our aid,

And oft before our altars pray'd;
Pure was her heart, and undefil'd her hands.

She's dead and from her sweet remains

The wondrous mixture I would take,
This much desired, this perfect flower to make

Assist, and thus with our transforming pains, We'll dignify the garden-beds, and grace our fa

vourite plains.”

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