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When nightingales, when sweetest bards

How wretched! who, through cruel fate, Confine their charming song

Have nothing to lament! To summer's animating heats,

With the poor alms this world affords Content to warble young?

Deplorably content ! Yet write I must; a lady' sues;

Had not the Greek his world mistook, How shameful her request !

His wish had been most wise; My brain in labour for dull rhyme !

To be content with but one world, Hers teeming with the best !

Like him, we should despise. But you a stranger will excuse,

Of Earth's revenue would you state Nor scorn his feeble strain ;

A full account, and fair? To you a stranger, but, through fate,

We hope; and hope; and hope; then cast
No stranger to your pain.

The total up
The ghost of grief deceas'd ascends,
His old wound bleeds aner;

His sorrows are recall'd to life
By those he sees in you;

Since vain all here, all future, vast,

Embrace the lot assign'd; Too well he knows the twisting strings

Heaven wounds to heal ; its frowns are friends; Of ardent hearts combin'd

Its stroke serere, most kind.
When rent asunder, how they bleed,
How hard to be resign'd:

But in laps'd Nature rooted deep,

Blind errour domineers; Those tears you pour, his eyes have shed;

And on fools' errands, in the dark,
The pang you feel, he felt;

Sends out our hopes and fears;
Thus Nature, loud as virtue, bids
His heart at yours to melt.

Bids us for ever pains deplore,

Our pleasures overprize; But what can heart, or head, suggest?

These oft persuade us to be weak;
What sad experience say?

Those urge us to be wise.
Through truths austere, to peace we work
Our rugged, gloomy way :

From virtue's rugged path to right

By pleasure are we brought,
What are we? Whence? For what? and whither? | To flowery fields of wrong, and there
Who know not, needs must mourn ;

Pain chides us for our fault:
But thought, bright daughter of the skies !
Can tears to triumph turn.

Yet whilst it chides, it speaks of peace,

If folly is withstood ; Thought is our armonr, 't is the mind's

And says, time pays an easy price,
Impenetrable shield,

For our eternal good.
When, sent by fate, we meet our foes,
Iu sore affiction's field;

In Earth's dark cot, and in an hour,

And in delusion great, It plucks the frightful mask from ills,

What an economist is man
Forbids pale fear to hide,

To spend his whole estate,
Beneath that dark disguise, a friend,
Which turns affection's tide.

And beggar an eternity!

For which as he was born, Affection frail! train'd ap by sense,

More worlds than one against it reigh’d,
From reason's channel strays:

As feathers he should scorn.
And whilst it blindly points at peace,
Our peace to pain betrays.

Say not, your loss in triumph leads

Religion's feeble strife; Thonght winds its fond, erroneous stream

Joys future amply reimburse
From daily-dying flowers,

Joys bankrupts of this life.
To nourish rich immortal blooms,
In amaranthine bowers ;

But nct deferr'd your joy so long,

It bears an early date; Whence throngs, in ecstasy, look down

Afiction's ready pay in hand,
On what once shock'd their sight;

Befriends our present state :
And thank the terrours of the past
For ages of delight.

What are the tears, which trickle down

Her melancholy face, All withers here; who most possess

Like liquid pearl ? Like pearls of price,
Are losers by their gain,

They purchase lasting peace.
Stung by full proof, that, bad at best,
Life's idle all is vain :

Grief softens hearts, and curbs the will,

Impetuous passion tames, Vain, in its course, life's murmuring stream; And keeps insatiate, keen desire Did not its course offend,

From lanching in extremes. Bnt murmur cease; life, then, would seem

Through time's dark womb, our judgment right, Still vainer, from its end,

If our dim eye was thrown,

Clear should we see, the will dirine
Mrs. M-

Has but forestall’d our own;

At variance with our future wish,

Now need I, madam ! your support. Self-sever'd we complain;

How exquisite the smart; If so, the wounded, not the wound,

How critically tim'd the news ? Must answer for the pain :

Which strikes me to the heart! The day shall come, and swift of wing,

The pangs of which I spoke, I feel : Though you may think it slow,

If worth like thine, is born, When, in the list of fortune's smiles,

O long-belor'd! I bless the blow, You 'll enter frowns of woe.

And triumph, whilst I mourn. For mark the path of Providence;

Nor mourn I long; by grief subdued This course it has pursued

By reason's empire shown; “ Pain is the parent, woe the womb,

Deep anguish comes by Heaven's decree, Of sound, important good :”

Continues by our own; Our hearts are fastend to this world

And when continued past its point, By strong and endless ties :

Indulg'd in length of time, And every sorrow cuts a string,

Grief is disgrace, and, what was fate, And urges us to rise :

Corrupts into a crime : 'T will sound severe-Yet rest assur'd

And shall I, criminally mean, I'm studious of your peace;

Myself and subject wrong? Though I should dare to give you joy

No; my example shall support Yes, joy of his decease :

The subject of my song. An hour shall come (you question this)

Madam! I grant your loss is great; An hour, when you shall bless,

Nor little is your gain? Beyond the brightest beams of life,

Let that be weigh'd; when weigh'd aright, Dark days of your distress.

It richly pays your pain : Hear then without surprise a truth,

When Heaven would kindly set is free, A daughter-truth to this,

And Earth's enchantment end ; Swift turns of fortune often tie

It takes the most efirctual means, A bleeding heart to bliss:

And robs us of a friend. Esteem you this a paradox ?

But such a friend ! and sigh no more? My sacred motto read;

"T is prudent; but severe : A glorious truth! divinely sung

Heaven aid my weakness, and I drop, By one, whose heart had bled;

All sorrow-with this tear. To Resignation swift he flew,

Perhaps your settled grief to sooth, In her a friend he found,

I should not vainly strive, A friend, which bless'd him with a smile

But with soft balm your pain assuage, When gasping with his wound.

Had he been still alive; On Earth naught precious is obtain'd

Whose frequent aid brought kind relief, But what is painful too;

In my distress of thought, By travel, and to travel born,

Ting'd with his beams my cloudy page, Our sabbaths are but few :

And beautify'd a fault : To real joy we work our way,

To touch our passions' secret springs Encountering many a shock,

Was his peculiar care ; Ere found what truly charms; as found

And deep his happy genius div'd A Venus in the block.

In bosoms of the fair; In some disaster, some severe

Nature, which favours to the few, Appointment for our sins,

All art beyond, imparts, That mot ber blessing (not so call’d,)

To him presented at his birth, True happiness, begins.

The key of human hearts. No martyr e'er defy'd the flames,

But not to me by him bequeath'd By stings of life unvext;

His gentle, smooth address; First rose some quarrel with this world,

His tender hand to touch the wound Then passion for the next.

In throbbing of distress; You see, then, pangs are parent pangs,

Howe'er, proceed I must, unbless'd The pangs of happy birth;

With Esculapian art: Pangs, by which only can be born

Know, love sometimes, mistaken love! True happiness on Earth.

Plays disaffection's part: The peopled Earth look all around,

Nor lands, nor seas, nor suns, nor stars, Or through time's records run;

Can soul from soul divide; And say, what is a man unstruck?

They correspond from distant worlds,
It is a man undone.

Though transports are denied :
This moment, am I deeply stung-
My bold pretence is tried;

. Whilst the author was writing this, he received When vain man boasts, Heaven puts to proof the news of Mr. Samuel Richardson's death, who The vaụntings of his pride;

was then printing the former part of the poem.

Are yon not, then, unkindly kind ?

The dear deceas'd so fam'd in arine, Is not your love severe?

With what delight he'll view O! stop that crystal source of woe;

His triumphs on the main outdone, Nor wound him with a tear,

Thus conquer'd, twice, by you. As those above from human bliss

Share his delight; take heed to shun keceive increase of joy;

Of bosoms most diseas'd Miy not a stroke from human woe,

That odd distemper, an absurd In part, their peace destroy ?

Reluctance to be pleas'd : He lives in those he left ;--- to what?

Some seem in love with sorrow's charms, Your, now, paternal care,

And that foul fiend enibrace : Clear from its cloud your brightend eye,

This temper let me justly brand, It will discera him there ;

And stamp it with disgrace: In fratres, not of form alone,

Sorrow! of horrid parentage ! But those', I trust, of mind;

Thou second-born of Hell! Auspicions to the public weal,

Against Hearen's endless mercies pour'd And to their fate resign'd.

Ilow dar'st thou to rebel? Think on the tempests he sustain'd;

From black and noxious vapours bred Revolve his battles won;

And nursid by want of thought, And let those prophesy your joy

And to the door of phrensy's self From such a father's son :

By perseverance brought, Is consolation what you seek?

Thy mest inglorious, coward tears Fan, then, his martial tire:

Fruin brutal eyes have rap : Ard animate to fame the sparks

Smiles, incoinmunicable smiles ! Bequeath'd him by his sire :

Are radiant marks of man; As nothing great is born in haste,

They cast a sudden glory round Wise Nature's time ailor;

T'h' iliumin'd human face; His father's laurels may descend,

And light in sons of honest joy And furish on his brow.

Somc beams of Moses' face : Nor, madam! be surpris'd to hear

Is resignation's lesson hard ? That laurels may be due

Examine, we shall find Not more to heroes of the field,

That duty gives up little more (Proud boas ers!) than to you:

'Than anguish of the mind; Tender as is the female frame,

Resign; and ail the load of life Like that brave man you mourn,

That moment you remove, You are a soldier, and to fight

Its heavy tax, ten thousand cares Superior battles born;

Derolve on one above; Beneath a banner nobler far

Who bids us lay our burthen down Than ever was unfurl'd

On bis almighty hand, In fields of blood; a banner bright!

Softens our duty to relief, High wav'd o'er all the world.

To blessing a command. It. like a streaming meteor, casts

For joy what cause! how every sense An universal light;

Is courted from above Sheds day, sheds more, eternal day

The year arvund, with presents rich, On nations whelm'd in night.

The growth of endless luve! Beneath that banner, what exploit

But most o'erlook the blessings pour'd, Can mount our glory higher,

Forget the wonders done, Than to sustain the dreadful blow,

And terminate, wrapp'd up in sense, When those we love expire ?

Their prospect at the Sun; Go forth a mora! Amazon ;

From that, their final point of view, Arin'd with undaunted thought;

From that their radiant goal, The battle won, though costing dear,

On travel infinite of thought, You'll think it cheaply bought :

Sets out the nobler soul, The passire hero, who sits down

Bruke loose from time's tenacious ties, Unactive, and can smile

And Earth's involving gloom, Beneath affliction's galling load,

To range at last its vast domain, Out-acts a Cæsar's toil:

And talk with worlds to come: The billows staind hy slaughter'd foes

They let unmark'd, and unemploy'd, Inferior praise afford;

Life's idle moments run; Reason 's a blodless conqueror,

And, doing nothing for themselves, More glorious than the sword.

Imagine nothing done ; Nor can the thunders of huzzas,

Fatal mistake! their fate goes on, From shouting nations, cause

Their dread account proceeds, Such sweet dclight, as from your heart

And their not-doing is set down Soft whispers of applause :

Amongst their darkest deeds;

Though man sits still, and takes his ease; Consummate love! the list how large God is at work on man;

Of blessings from thy hand ! No means, no moment unemploy'd,

To banish sorrow, and be blest, To bless him, if he can.

Is thy supreme command. But man consents not, boldly bent

Are such commands but ill obey'd ? To fashion bis own fate;

Of bliss, shall we complain? Man, a mere bungler in the trade,

The man, who dares to a wretch, Repents his crime too late ;,

Deserves still greater pain, Hence loud laments : let me thy cause,

Joy is our duty, glory, health ; Indulgent Father! plead;

The sunshine of the soul; Of all the wretches we deplore,

Our best encomium on the power Not one by thee was made.

Who sweetly plans the whole: What is thy whole creation fair?

Joy is our Eden still possess'd : Of love divine the child;

Be gone, ignoble grief! Love brought it forth; and, from its birth,

'T is joy makes gods, and men exalts, Has o'er it fondly smil'd :

Their nature, our relief;

Relief, for man to that m:ist stoop,
Now, and through periods distant far,

And his due distance know;
Long ere the world began,
Heaven is, and has in travail been,

Transport's the language of the skies, Its birth the good of man;

Content the style below.

Content is joy, and joy in pain Man holds in constant service bound

Is joy and virtue too; The blustering winds and seas;

Thus, whilst good present we possess Nor suns disdain to travel hard

More precious we pursue : Their master, man, to please :

Of joy the more we have in hand, To final good the worst events

The more have we to come; Through secret channels run;

Joy, like our money, interest bears, Finish for man their destin'd course,

Which daily swells the sum. As 'twas for man begun,

But how to smile; to stem the tide One point (observ'd, perhaps, by few)

Of nature in our veins ; Has often smote, and smites

Is it not hard to weep in joy) My mind, as demonstration strong;

What then to smile in pains?" That Heaven in man delights:

Victorious joy! which breaks the clouds, Wbat's known to man of things unseen,

And struggles through a storm; Of future worlds, or fates?

Proclaims the mind as great, as good; So much, nor more, than what to man's

And bids it doubly charm : Sublime affairs relates ;

If doubly charming in our sex, What's rerelation then? a list,

A sex, by nature, bold; Au inventory just

What then in yours? 't is diamond there, Of that poor insect's goods, so late

Triumphant o'er our gold. Callid out of night and dust.

And should not this complaint repress? What various motives to rejoice!

And check the rising sigh? To render joy sincere,

Yet farther opiate to your pain Has this no weight ? our joy is felt

I labour to supply. Beyond this narrow sphere:

Since spirits greatly damp'd distort Would we in Heaven new Heaven create,

Ideas of delight, And double its delight?

Look through the medium of a friend, A smiling world, when Heaven looks down,

To set your notions right : How pleasing in its sight!

As tears the sight, grief dins the soul;

Its object dark appears; Angels stoop forward from their thrones

True friendship, like a rising sun,
To bear its joyful lays;

The soul's horizon clears.
As incense sweet enjoy, and join,
Its aromatic praise :

A friend's an optic to the mind,

With sorrow clouded o'er ; Have we no cause to fear the stroke

And gives it strength of sight to sce Of Heaven's avenging rod,

Redress unseen before. When we presume to counteract

Reasou is somewhat rough in man; A sympathetic God ?

Extremely smooth and fair, If we resign, our patience makes

When she, to grace ber manly strength, His rod an armless wand;

Assumes a female ar: If not, it darts a serpent's sting,

A friend 3 yon hare, and I the same, Like that in Moses' band;

Whose prudent, soft ad tress Like that, it swallows up whate'er

Will bring to life those healing thoughts Earth's vain magicians bring,

Wivel died in your distress;
Whose baffled arts would boast below
Of joys a rival spring,

3 Mrs. Montague TOL, XII.


That friend, the spirit of my theme

This revolution, fix'd by fate, Extracting fur your ease,

In fable was foretold; Will leare to me the dreg, in thoughts

The dark prediction puzzled wits, Tuo common; such as these :

Nor could the learn'd uafuld : Let those lament, to whom full bowls

But as those ladies'5 works I read, Of sparkling joys are given;

They darted such a ray, That triple bane inebriates life,

The latent sense burst out at once, Iubiiters death, and liazards Heaven :

And shone in open day : Woe to the soul at perfect ease !

So burst, full ripe, distended fruits, 'Tis brewing periect pains,

When strongly strikes the Sun; Luil'd reason sleeps, the pulse is king;

And from the purple grape unpressid Despotic body reigas :

Spontaneous nectars run. llave you 4 neer pity'l joy's gay scenes,

Pallas, ('t is said) when Jove grew dull, And deem'd their glory dark?

Forsook his drowsy brain; Alas! poor Envy! she's stone-blind,

And sprightly leap'd into the throne And quite mistakes her mark:

Of wisdom's brighter reign; Icr mark lies hid in sorrow's shades,

Her belmet took; that is, shot rays But sorrow well subdued;

Of formidable wit; And proud fortune's frown defy'd

And lance:–or, genius most acute, By meek, unborrow'd good.

Which lines immortal writ; By resignation; all in that

And gorgon shield,-or, power to fright A double friend may find,

Man's fully, dreadful shone, A wing to Heaven, and, while on Earth,

And many a blockhead (easy change !) The pillow of mankind:

Turn'd, instantly, to stone. On pillons void of down, for rest

Our authors male, as, then, did Jove, Our residess hopes we place ;

Now scratch a damag'd head, When hopes of Hearen lie warm at heart,

And call for what once quarter'd there, Our hearts repose in peace:

But find the goddess fled. The peace, which resignation yields,

The fruit of knouledge, golden fruit! Who feel alone can guess;

That once forbidden tree, 'T is disbeliev'd by murmuring minds,

Heig'd-in by surly man, is now They must conclude it less :

To Britain's daughters free: The loss, or gain, of that alone

In Eve (we know) of fruit so fair Hare we to bope, or fear;

The noble thirst began; That fate controls, and can invert

And they, like her, have caus'd a fall, The seasons of the year :

A fall of fame in man : O! the dark days, the year around,

And since of genius in our sex, Of an impatient mind !

O Addison with thee Through clouds, and storms, a summer breaks, The sun is set ; how I rejoice To shine on the resign'd :

This sister lamp to see! While man by that of every grace,

It sheds, like Cynthia, silver beams And virtue, is possess’d;

On man's nocturnal state; Fond rice her pandæmonium builds

His lessen'd light, and languid powers, In the rebellious breast;

I show, whilst I relate.
By resignation we defeat

The worst that can anpoy ;
And suffer, witi far more repose,

Than worldlings can enjoy.

Bur what in either sex, beyond
From small experience this I speak;

All parts, our glory crowns?
O! grant to those I love
Experience fuller far, ye powers,

“In ruffling seasons to be calm,

And smile, when fortune frowns." Who furin our fates above !

Heaven's choice is safer than our ownl; Mv lure where due, if not to those

Of ages past inquire, Wbo, leaving grandeur, came

What the most formidable fate?" To shine on age in mean recess,

“ To have our own desire." And light me to my theme !

If, in your wrath, the worst of foes A theme themselves! A theme, how rare!

You wish extremely ill; The charns, which they display,

Expose him to the thunder's stroke, To triumph over captive heads,

Or that of his own will.
Are set in bright array:
With his own arms proud man's o'ercome,

What numbers, rushing down the stce!

Of inclination strong, His boasted laurels die:

Hare perishi'd in their ardent wisli! Learning and genius, wiser grown,

Wish ardent, ever wrong! Tu fexulc busoins fiy.

Mrs. Montague.

5 Yrs. Voniaque. Mr. Carter,

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