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Where you the way with magic power beguile, Nor borne along the fav’ring tide, Bassora's deep, or Lybia's deserts smile. My full sails swell with bloating pride.

Foes of thy worth, that, insolent and vain, Let me from wealth but hope content,
Deride thy maxims, and reject thy reign, Rememb'ring still it was but lent;
The frantic tribe of virtue shall depart,

To modest Merit spread my store;
And make no more their ravage in my heart. Unbar my hospitable door !
Away“ The tears that pity taught to flow !" Nor feed, for pomp, an idle train,
Away that anguish for a brother's woe!

While Want uppity'd pines in vain.
Adieu to these, and ev'ry tiresome guest,
That drain'd my fortunes, or destroy'd my rest !

If Heav'n, in ev'ry purpose wise,
Ah, good Avaro! could I thee despise?

The envy'd lot of wealth denies ;
Thee, good Avaro; provident and wise?

If doom'd to drag life's painful load
Plutus, forgive the bitter things I've said ! Thro' poverty's uneven road,
I love Avaro; poor Avaro's dead.

And, for the due bread of the day,
Yet, yet I'm thine; for Fame's unerring tongue Destin'd to toil as well as pray;
In thy sooth'd ear thus pours her silver song,

To thee, Humanity, still true, “ Immortal Plutus ! god of golden ease !

I'll wish the good I cannot do ; Form'd ev'ry heart, and ev'ry eye to please!

And give the wretch that passes by, For thee Content her downy carpet spreads,

A soothing word—a tear-a sigh.
And rosy Pleasure swells her genial beds.

Howe'er exalted, or deprest,
'Tis thine to gild the mansions of Despair, Le ever mine the feeling breast.
And beam a glory round the brows of Care; From me remove the stagnant mind
To cheat the lazy pace of sleepless hours

Of languid indolence, reclin'd;
With marble fountains, and ambrosial bowers." The soul that one long Sabbath keeps,

O grant me, Plutus, scenes like those 1 sung, And thro' the Sun's whole circle sleeps;
My youthful lyre when vernal fancy strung. Dull Peace, that dwells in Folly's eye,
For me their shades let other Studleys rear, And self-attending Vanity.
Tho' each tree's water'd with a widow's tear. Alike, the foolish, and the vain,
Detested god !--forgive me! I adore.

Are strangers to the sense bumane.
Great Plutus, grant me one petition more,
Should Delia, tender, gen’rous, fair and free,

O, for that sympathetic glow
Leave love and truth, and sacrifice to thee,

Which taught the holy tear to flow, I charge thee, Plutus, be to Delia kind,

When the prophetic eye survey'd And make her fortunes richer than her mind.

Sion in future ashes laid; Be her's the wealth all Heaven's broad eye can

Or, rais'd to Heav'n, implor'd the bread view;

That thousands in the desert fed !
Grant her, good god, Don Philip and Peru.

Or when the heart o'er Friendship's grave
Sigh’d, -and forgot its power to save--

O, for that sympathetic glow,
HYMN TO HUMANITY.

Which taught the holy tear to flow!

It comes: it fills my labouring breast ! Parers of Virtue, if thine ear

I feel my beating heart opprest. Attend not now to Surrow's cry ;

Ob! hear that lonely widow's wail ! If now the pity-streaming tear

See her dim eye! her aspect pale ! Should haply on thy cheek be dry;

To Heav'n she turns in deep despair, Indulge my votive strain, O sweet llumanity. Her infants wonder at her prayer, Come, ever welcome to my breast,

And, mingling tears they know not why, A tender, but a cheerful guest;

Lift up their little hands and cry. Nor always in the gloomy celli

() God! their moving sorrows see! Of life-consuming sorrow dwell;

Support them, sweet Humanity. For sorrow, long-indulg'd and slow,

Life, fill'd with grief's distressful train, Is to humanity a foe;

For ever asks the tear humane. And grief, that makes the heart its prey, Behold in yon unconscious grove Wears sensibility away.

The victims of ill-fated love! Then comes, sweet nymph, instead of thee, Heard you that agonizing throe? The gloomy fiend Stupidity.

Sure this is not romantic woe! O may that fiend be banish'd far,

The golden day of joy is o'er; Though passions hold eternal war!

And now they part-to meet no more. Nor ever let me cease to know

Assist them, hearts from anguish free! The pulse that throbs at joy or woe.

Assist them, sweet Humanity. Nor let my vacant cheek be dry,

Parent of Virtue, if thine ear When sorrow fills a brother's eye;

Attend not now to Sorrow's cry; Nor may the tear that frequent flows

If now the pity-streaming tear From prirate or from social woes,

Should haply on thy cheek be dry, E'er make this pleasing sense depart;

Indulge my votive strain, O sweet Humanity. Ye cares, O barden not my heart.

If the fair star of fortune smile, Let not its flatt'ring power beguile :

Fair Fancy sure shall never fail,
Tho' far from these, and Irwan's vale !

HYMN TO THE RISING SUN. From the red ware rising bright,

Lift on bigh thy golden head;

O'er the misty mountains spread
Thy smiling rays of orient light!
See the golden god appear;
Flies the fiend of darkness drear;
Flies, and in her gloomy train,
Sable Grief, and Care, and Pain !
See the golden god advance !
On Taurus' heights his coursers prance:
With him haste the vernal Hours,
Breathing sweets, and drooping flowers.
Laughing Summer at his side,
Waves her locks in rosy pride;
And Autumn bland with aspect kind,
Bears his golden sheaf behind.
O haste, and spread the purple day
O'er all the wide ethereal way!
Nature mourns at thy delay:
God of glory haste away!
From the red wave rising bright,

Lift on high thy golden head;

O'er the misty mountains, spread Thy smiling rays of orient light?

A FAREWELL HYMN

HYMN TO THE ETERNAL

PROVIDENCE.
Live of the world, Immortal Mind,
Father of all the human kind!
Whoșe boundless eye that knows no rest,
Intent on Nature's ample breast;
Explores the space of Earth and skies,
And sees eternal incense rise!
To thee my humble voice I raise;
Forgive, while I presume to praise.

Tho' thou this transient being gave,
That shortly sinks into the grave;
Yet 'twas thy goodness, still to give
A being that can think and lire;
In all thy works thy wisdom see,
And stretch its tow'ring mind to thee.
To thee my humble voice I raise;
Forgive, while I presume to praise.

And still this poor contracted span,
This life, that bears the name of man;
From thee derives its vital ray,
Eternal Source of life and day!
Thy bounty still the sunshine pours,
That gilds its mom and ev'ning hours,
To thee my humble voice I raise ;
Forgive, while I presume to praise.

Thro' Errour's maze, thro’ Folly's night,
The lamp of Reason lends me light
When stern Affliction waves her rod,
My heart confides in thee, my God!
When Nature shrinks, oppress'd with woes,
E'en then she finds in thee repose.
To thee my humble voice I raise;
Forgive, while I presume to praise.

Afliction Alies, and Hope returos;
Her lamp with brighter splendour bumas;
Gay Love with all his smiling train,
And Peace and Joy are here again.
These, these, I know, 'twas thine to give;
I trusted; and, behold, I live!
To thee my humble voice I raise ;
Forgive, while I presume to praise.

O may I still thy favour prove !
Still grant me gratitude and love.
Let truth and virtue guide my heart;
Nor peace, por hope, nor joy depart;
But yet, whate'er my life may be,
My heart shall still repose on thee!
To thee my humble voice I raise ;
Forgive, while I presume to praise.

TO THE VALLEY OP IRWAN.

1

FAREWELL the fields of Irwan's vale,

My infant years where Fancy led ; And sooth'd me with the western gale,

Her wild dreams waving round my head, While the blythe blackbird told his tale, Farewell the fields of Irwan's vale! The primrose on the valley's side,

The green thyme on the mountain's head, The wanton rose, the daisy pied,

The wilding's blossom blushing red; No longer I their sweets inhale Farewell the fields of Irwan's vale! How oft, within yon vacant shade,

Has ev'ning clos'd my careless eye ! How oft, along those banks I've stray'd,

And watch'd the wave that wandeş'd by; Full long their loss shall ļ bewail. Farewell the fields of Irwan's vale ! Yet still, within yon vacant grove,

To mark the close of parting day; Along yon flow'ry banks to rove,

And watch the wave that winds away;

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TRANSLATIONS.

Stretch'd on this mountain thy torn lover lies: THE DEATH OF ADONIS.

Weep, queen of beauty ! for he bleedshe

dies. FROM THE GREEK OF BION'.

Ah! yet behold life's last drops faintly flow, 1759.

In streams of purple, o'er those limbs of snow !

From the pale cheek the perish'd roses fly ; Abonis dead, the Muse of woe shall moum ; And death dims slow the ghastly gazing eye. Adonis dead, the weeping Loves retum.

Kiss, kiss those fading lips, ere chill'd in death; The queen of beauty o'er his tomb shall shed

With soothing fondness stay the fleeting breath. Her fowing sorrows for Adonis dead;

'Tis vain-ah! give the soothing fondness o'er! For earth's cold lap her velvet couch forego, Adonis feels the warm salute no more.

And robes of purple for the weeds of woe. Adonis dead the Muse of woe shall mour ! Adonis dead, the Muse of woe shall mourn ; Adonis dead the weeping Loves return. Adonis dead, the weeping Lores return. His faithful dogs bewail their master slain,

And mourning dryads pour the plaintive strain. * Bion, the pastoral pnet, lived in the time of Not the fair youth alone the wound opprest, Ptolemy Philadelphus. By the epithet Exupréia The queen of beauty bears it in her breast. every where applied to him, it is probable that Her feet unsandal'd, floating wild her hair, he was born at Smyrna. Moschus confirms this, Her aspect woeful, and her bosom bare, when he says to the river Meles, which had be- Distrest she wanders the wild wastes forlorn, fore wept for Homer,

Her sacred limbs by ruthless brambles torn. -Νυν παλιν αλλά

Loud as she grieves, surrounding rocks com'Twin dexpuess

plain,

And Echo thro' the long vales calls her absent It is evident, however, that he spent much of

swain. his time in Sicily, Moschus, as he tells us, was Adonis hears not : life's last drops fall slow, his scholar ; and by him we are iuformed, that In streams of purple, down his limbs of snow. his master was not a poor poet. “ Thou hast left the weeping Cupids round their queen deplore, to others thy riches, " says he, “but to me thy And mourn her beauty, and her love no more. poetry.” It appears from the same author, Each rival grace that glow'd with conscious that he died by poison. The best edition of his

pride, works, is that of Paris, by M. de Louge-Pierre, Each charm of Venus, with Adonis dy'd. with a French translation.

Adonis dead, the vocal hills bemoan, Adonis dead, &c.] Adonis, the favourite of Ve- And hollow groves return the sadd’ning groan. nus, was the son of Cynaras, king of Cyprus. His The swelling floods with sea-born Venus weep, chief employment was hunting, though he is re- And roll in mournful murmurs to the deep: presented by Virgil as a Shepherd, Oves ad fumina pavit Adonis.

His faithful dogs, &c.-The queen of beauty,

&c.] 'The lines in the original run thus : He was killed by a wild boar, if we may believe Propertius, in Cyprus:

Αγριων αγριον

ίλκε όχι κατά μήρον Αδωνις. .

Μείζον δε' Κυθερεια φερει «στι καρδιον όλα», Percussit Adonim

Kuivos μεν περι παιδα φιλοι κυνις ώρυσαντο, Venantem Idalio vertice durus Aper.

Και Νυμφαι κλαιωσιν όριιαδες. The anniversary of his death was celebrated The two first of these lines contain a kind of through the whole Pagan world. Aristophanes, witticism, which it was better to avoid. The in his Comedy of Peace, reckons the feast of Ado autbor had, however, too much true genius to be nis among the chief festivals of the Athenians. fond of these little affected turns of expression,

The Syriads observed it with all the violence of which Muszeus and others bave been industrious grief, and the greatest cruelty of self-castigation. to strike out. it was celebrated at Alexandria in St. Cyril's These four verses are transposed in the transtime; and when Julian the apostate made his lation for the sake of the connection. entry at Antioch, io the year 362, they were celebrating the feast of Adonis,

Distrest, she wonders, &c.) This image of

the sorrow of Venus is very affecting,and is introThe ancients differ greatly in their accounts of this divinity. Athenæus says, that he was the duced in this place with great us auty and proprie. favourite of Bacchus. Plutarch maintains, that ty. Indeed, most modern puets seem to have be and Bacchus are the same, and that the Jews observed it, and hare profited by it in their abstain'd from swine's flesh because Adonis was

scenes of elegiac woe. killed by a boar. Ausonius, Epig. 30, affirms The swelling floods, &c ] When the poet makes that Bacchus, Osiris, and Adonis, are one and the rivers mourn for Venus, he very properly the same.

calls ber Appodira; but this propriety perhaps In melting tears the mountain-springs comply; Far other sport might those fair limbs essay, The flowers, low drooping, blush with grief, Than the rude combat, or the savage fray." and die.

Thus Venus griev'd—the Cupids round Cythera's groves with strains of sorrow rin g;

deplore ; The dirge funereal ber sad cities sing.

And mourn her beauty, and her love no more. Hark! pitying Echoes Venus' sighs return; Now flowing tears in silent grief complain, When Venus sighs, can aught forbear to Mix with the purple streams, and flood the mourn ?

plain. But when she saw her fainting lover lie, Yet not in vain those sacred drops shall for, The wide wound gaping on the with’ring thigh; The purple streams in blushing roses glow: But streaming when she saw life's purple tide, And catching life from ev'ry falling tear, Stretch'd her fair arms, with trembling voice Their azure heads anemonies shall rear. she cry'd :

But cease in vain to cherish dite despair, “ Yer stay,lor'd youth ! a moment ere we part, Nor mourn unpitied to the mountain-air; O let me kiss thee !-hold thee to my heart ! The last sad office let thy hand supply, A little moment, dear Adonis ! stay!

Stretch the stiff limbs, and close the glaring And kiss thy Venus, ere those lips are clay.

eye. Let those dear lips by mine once more be prest, That form repos'd beneath the bridal sest 'Till thy last breath expire into my breast; May cheat thy sorrows with the feiut of rest. Then, when life's ebbing pulse scarce, scarce For lovely smile those lips, tho' void of breath, - can move,

And fair those features in the shade of death. I'll catch thy soul, and drink thy dying love. Haste, fill with flowers, with rosy wreaths bis That last-left pledge shall sooth my tortur'd

bed. breast,

Perish the powers! the prince of beauty's " When thou art gone

dead. When, far from me, thy gentle ghost explores Round the pale corse each breathing essence Infernal Pluto's grimly-glooming shores.

strew, “ Wretch that I am ! immortal and divine, Let weeping myrtles pour their balmy der. In life imprison'd whom the Fates confine, Perish the balms, unable to restore He comes ! receive him to thine iron-arms; Those vital sweets of love that cbarm pa more. Blest queen of death! receive the prince of 'Tis done.—Behold, with purple robes archarms.

ray'd, Parhappier thou, to whose wide realms repair In mournful state the clay-cold limbs are laid. Whatever lovely, and whatever fair.

The Loves lament with all the rage of woe, The smiles of joy, the golden hours are filed : Stamp on the dart, and break the useless bor, Grief, only grief, survives Adonis dead.” Oficious these the wat'ry orn supply.

The Loves around in idle sorrow stand, Unbind the buskin'd leg, and wash the bleal. And the dim torch falls from the vacant hand.

ing thigh. Hence the vain zone! the myrtle's flow'ry O'er the pale body those their light wings ware, pride!

As yet, tho' vain, solicitous to save. Delight and beauty with Adonis died.

All, wild with grief, their hapless queen de" Why didst thou, vent'rous, the wild chase

plore, explore,

And mourn her beauty and her love no more. From his dark lair to rouse the tusky boar?

Dejected Hymen droops bis head forlorn,

His torch extinct, and flow'ry tresses torn: was merely accidental, as he has given her the

For nuptial airs, and songs of joy, remain samne appellation when she wanders the desert.

The sad slow dirge, the sorrow-breathing strain. The flowers, low-drooping, blush, &c.] · Who wou'd not, when Adonis dies, deplore? Ανθεα δ' εξ οδννας ερυθραινεται.

Who wou'd not weep when Hymen smiles no

more; Paleness being the known effect of grief, we The Graces mourn the prince of beauty slain, do not at first sight accept this expression ; but Loud as Dione on her native main : when we consider that the first emotions of it The Fates relenting join the general woe, are attended with blushes, we are pleased with And call the lover from the realms below. the observation.

Vain, hopeless grief! can living sounds perrade

The dark, dead regions of eternal shade? Cythera's groves, &c.]

Spare, Venus, spare that loo luxuriant tear άδι Κυθήρη

For the long sorrows of the mournful year. Παντας ένα αναμω και ααν πολιν διατρον άειδει.

This passage the scholiasts have entirely mis- For the long, &c.] Numa seems to have borunderstood. They make Kooupon Venus, for rowed the custom he instituted of mourning a which they have neither any authority, the Do- year for the deceased, from the Greeks. For ric name she borrows from that island being al- though it is said only ten months were set apart, ways Kutspelas, nor the least probability from yet ten months were the year of Romulus, till sethe connection.

gulated by his successor. This proves that the island Cythera was the place where Adonis perished, notwithstanding the opinion of Propertius and others to the contrary.

FROM THE FRENCH OF MR. GRCSSET.

THE HAPPINESS OF A MODERATE EXTRAIT D'UNE ODE SUR LA FORTUNE, AND MODERATE DEMEDIOCRITE.

SIRES.
PAR M. GRESSET.
Seduits
par d'aveugles idoles

O GODDESS of the golden mean,
Du bonheur; fantômes frivoles,

Whom still misjudging folly flies,
Le vulgaire et les grands ne te suivirent pas : Seduo'd by each delusive scene;
Tu n'eus pour sujets que ses sages

Thy only subjects are the wise.
Qui doivent l'estime des âges

These seek thy paths with nobler aim, A la sagesse, acquise en marchant sur tes pas. And trace them to the gates of fame. Tu vis naître dans tes retraites

See foster'd in thy fav'ring shade, Ces nobles et tendres poëtes,

Each tender bar of verse divine ! Dont la voix n'eut jamais formé de sons brillans. Who lur'd by fortune's vain parade, Si la fracas de la fortune,

Had never form'd the tuneful line ; Ou si indigence importune

By fortune lur'd or want confin'd, Edt troublé leur silence, ou caché leurs talens.

Whose cold hand chills the genial mind. Mais en vain tu fuyois la gloire.

lo vain you slight the flow'ry crown, La renommé, et la victoire

That fame wreathes round the favour'd head ! Vinrent dans tes déserts se choisir des héros; Whilst laurell’d victory and renown Mieux formés par tes loix stoïques,

Their beroes from thy shades have led;
Aux vertus, aux faits héroïques,

There form’d, from courtly softness free,
Que parmi la mollesse, et l'orgueil des faisceaux. By rigid virtue and by thee.
Pour Mars tu formois, loin des villes

By thee were form’d, from cities far,
Les Fabrices, et les Camilles,

Fabricius just, Camillus wise, Et ses sages vainqueurs, philosophes guerriers These philosophic sons of war, Qui, du char de la Dictature

That from imperial dignities Descendant à l'agriculture,

Returning, plough'd their native plain, Sur tes secrets aulels rapportoient leurs-lauriers. Apd plac'd their laurels in thy fane. Trop heureux, déïté paisible,

Thrice happy he, on whose calm breast Le mortel sagement sensible,

The smiles of peaceful wisdom play, Qui jaunais loin de toi a porte ses desirs,

With all thy sober charms possest, Par sa douce mélancolie,

Whose wishes never learnt to stray. Sauvé de l'humaine folie,

Whom truth, of pleasures pure but grave, Dans la rérité seul il cherche ses plaisirs. And pensive thoughts from folly save. Ignoré de la multitude,

Far from the crowd's low-thoughted strife,
Libre de tout servitude,

From all that bounds fair freedom's aim,
U n'envia jamais, les grands biens, les grand noms, He envies not the pomp of life,
Il n'ignore point que la foudre

A length of rent-roll, or of name :
A plus souvent réduit en poudre

For safe he views the vale-grown elm, Le pin de monts altiers, que l'ormeau des While thunder-sounding storms tlie mouutain valons.

pine o'erwhelm, Sourd aux censures populaires,

Of censure's frown he feels no dread, Il ne craint point les yeux vulgaires,

No fear he knows of vulgar eyes, Son ceil perce au-delà de leur foible horison : Whose thought, to nobler objects led, Quelques bruits que la foule en sème,

Far, far o'er their horizon flies : Il est satisfait de lui même,

With reason's suffrage at his side, S'il a scû mériter l'aveu de la raison.

Whose firm heart rests self-satisfied. Il rit du sort, quand les conquêtes

And while alternate conquest sways - Promènent de têtes en têtes

The northern, or the southern shore, Les couronnes du nord, ou celles du midi; He smiles at fortune's giddy maze, Rien n'altère sa paix profonde,

And calmly bears the wild storm roar. Et les derniers instans du monde

Ev'n Nature's groans, vomov'd with fear, N'épouvanteroient point son cour encore hardi. And bursting worlds be'd calmly hear. Amitié, charmante immortelle,

Such are the faithful hearts you love, Tu choisis à si coeur fidèle

O Friendship fair, immortal maid; Peu d'amis mais constans, vertueux comme lui : The few caprice could never move, Tu ne crains point que le caprice,

The few whom intrest never sway'd; Que l'intérêt les désunisse,

Nor shed unseen, with bate refin'd, Ou verse sur leurs jours les poisons de l'ennui. The pale cares o'er the gloomy mind, Ami des frugales demeures,

Soft Sleep, that lov'st the peaceful cell, Sommeil, pendant les sombres heures,

On these descends thy balmy power; Tu répans sur ses yeux tes songes favoris ; While no terrific dreams dispel Ecartant ces songes funèbres

The slumbers of the sober hour; Qui, parmi l'effroi des ténèbres.

Which oft, array'd in darkness drear, Yont reveiller les grands sous les riches lambris. Wake the wild eye of pride to fear.

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