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ELEG Y.

He complains how soon the pleasing novelty of life is over.

TO MR. JAGO.

Απ me, my friend! it will not, will not last!
This fairy-scene, that cheats our youthful eyes!
The charm dissolves; th' aerial music's past;
The banquet ceases, and the vision flies.

Where are the splendid forms, the rich perfumes,
Where the gay tapers, where the spacious dome!
Vanish'd the costly pearls, the crimson plumes,
And we, delightless, left to wander home!

Vain now are books, the sage's wisdom vain!
What has the world to bribe our steps astray?
Ere reason learns by study'd laws to reign,
The weaken'd passions, self-subdued, obey.

Scarce has the sun seven annual courses roll'd,
Scarce shown the whole that fortune can supply;
Since, not the miser so caress'd his gold,

As I, for what it gave, was heard to sigh.

On the world's stage I wish'd some sprightly part;
To deck my native fleece with tawdry lace!
'Twas life, 'twas taste, and-oh my foolish heart,
Substantial joy was fix'd in power and place.

And you, ye works of art! allur'd mine eye,
The breathing picture and the living stone:
"Though gold, though splendor, heaven and fate deny,
"Yet might I call one Titian stroke my own!"

Smit with the charms of fame, whose lovely spoil,
The wreath, the garland, fire the poet's pride,
I trim'd my lamp, consum'd the midnight oil-
But soon the paths of health and fame divide!

Oft too I pray'd, twas nature form'd the prayer,
To grace my native scenes, my rural home;
To see my trees express my planter's care,

And gay, on Attic models, raise my dome.

But now 'tis o'er, the dear delusion's o'er !
A stagnant breezeless air becalms my soul:
A fond aspiring candidate no more,

I scorn the palm, before I reach the goal.

O youth! inchanting state, profusely blest!
Bliss ev'n obtrusive courts the frolic mind;
Of health neglectful, yet by health carest ;
Careless of favour, yet secure to find.

Then glows the breast, as opening roses fair;
More free, more vivid, than the linnet's wing;
Honest as light, transparent ev'n as air,

Tender as buds, and lavish as the spring.

Not all the force of manhood's active might,
Not all the craft to subtle age assign'd,
Not science shall extort that dear delight,
Which gay delusion gave the tender mind.

Adieu soft raptures, transports void of care!
Parent of raptures, dear deceit, adieu !
And you, her daughters, pining with despair,
Why, why so soon her fleeting steps pursue!

Tedious again to curse the drizzling day!
Again to trace the wintery tracks of snow!
Or, sooth'd by vernal airs, again survey,

The self-same hawthorns bud, and cowslips blow!

O life! how soon of every bliss forlorn!

We start false joys, and urge the devious race: A tender prey: that cheers our youthful morn, Then sinks untimely, and defrauds the chase.

E LEG Y.

To a friend, on some slight occasion estrang'd from him.

HEALTH to my friend, and many a cheerful day
Around his seat may peaceful shades abide!
Smooth flow the minutes, fraught with smiles away,
And, till they crown our union, gently glide.

Ah me! too swiftly fleets our vernal bloom!
Lost to our wonted friendship, lost to joy!
Soon may thy breast the cordial wish resume,
Ere wintry doubt its tender warmth destroy.

Say, were it ours, by fortune's wild command,
By chance to meet beneath the torrid zone;
Would'st thou reject thy Damon's plighted hand?
Would'st thou with scorn thy once-lov'd friend
disown?

Life is that stranger land, that alien clime :
Shall kindred souls forego their social claim?
Launch'd in the vast abyss of space and time,
Shall dark suspicion quench the generous flame?

Myriads of souls, that knew one parent mould,
See sadly sever'd by the laws of chance!
Myriads, in time's perennial list enroll'd,

Forbid by fate to change one transient glance!

But we have met-where ills of every form,
Where passions rage, and hurricanes descend:
Say, shall we nurse the rage, assist the storm?
And guide them to the bosom-of a friend!

Yes, we have met-thro' rapine, fraud, and wrong:
Might our joint aid the paths of peace explore!
Why leave thy friend amid the boisterous throng,
Ere death divide us, and we part no more?

For oh! pale sickness warns thy friend away;
For me no more the vernal roses bloom!
I see stern fate his ebon wand display;

And paint the wither'd regions of the tomb.

Then the keen anguish from thine eye

shall start,

Sad as thou follow'st my untimely bier; "Fool that I was-if friends so soon must part, “To let suspicion intermix a fear.”

ELEG Y.

He suggests the advantages of birth to a person of merit, and the folly of a superciliousness that is built upon that sole foundation.

WHEN genius grac'd with lineal splendor glows,
When title shines with ambient virtues crown'd,
Like some fair almond's flowery pomp it shows;
The pride, the perfume of the regions round.
Then learn, ye fair! to soften splendor's ray;
Endure the swain, the youth of low degree;
Let meekness join'd its temperate beam display;
"Tis the mild verdure that endears the tree.

Pity the sandal'd swain, the shepherd's boy;
He sighs to brighten a neglected name;
Foe to the dull appulse of vulgar joy,

He mourns his lot; he wishes, merits fame.
In vain to groves and pathless vales we fly;
Ambition there the bowery haunt invades
Fame's awful rays fatigue the courtier's eye,
But gleam still lovely through the chequer'd shades.

Vainly, to guard from love's unequal chain,

Has fortune rear'd us in the rural grove; Should ****'s eyes illume the desert plain, Ev'n I may wonder, and ev'n I must love.

;

Nor unregarded sighs the lowly hind;

Though you contemn, the gods respect his vow; Vindictive rage awaits the scornful mind,

And vengeance, too severe! the gods allow.

On Sarum's plain I met a wandering fair;

The look of sorrow, lovely, still she bore; Loose flow'd the soft redundance of her hair,

And, on her brow, a flowery wreath she wore.

Oft stooping as she stray'd, she cull'd the pride
Of every plain; she pillag'd every grove!
The fading chaplet daily she supply'd,

And still her hand some various garland wove.

Erroneous fancy shap'd her wild attire ;

From Bethlem's walls the poor lymphatic stray'd; Seem'd with her air her accent to conspire,

When, as wild fancy taught her, thus she said:

Hear me, dear youth! oh hear a hapless maid,
Sprung from the scepter'd line of ancient kings!
Scorn'd by the world, I ask thy tender aid;
Thy gentle voice shall whisper kinder things.

The world is frantic-fly the race profane-
Nor I, nor you, shall its compassion move;
Come friendly let us wander, and complain,
And tell me, shepherd! hast thou seen my love?
My love is young-but other loves are young;
And other loves are fair, and so is mine;
An air divine discloses whence he sprung;
He is my love, who boasts that air divine.

No vulgar Damon robs me of my rest,
Ianthe listens to no vulgar vow;

A prince, from gods descended, fires her breast;
A brilliant crown distinguishes his brow.

What, shall I stain the glories of my

race

?

More clear, more lovely bright than Hesper's beam? The porcelain pure with vulgar dirt debase?

Or mix with puddle the pellucid stream?

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