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No wither'd witch shall here be seen,

No goblins lead their nightly crew; The female fays shall haunt the green,

And dress thy grave with pearly dew.
The red-breast oft at evening hours

Shall kindly lend his little aid,
With hoary moss, and gather'd flow'rs,

To deck the ground where thou art laid. When howling winds, and beating rain,

In tempest shake thy sylvan cell ; Or 'midit the chace on every plain,

The tender thought on thee shall dwell: Each lonely scene fhali thee restore,

For thee the tear be duly shed; Belov'd, till life can charm no more ;

And mourn'd, till Pity's self be dead.

: ODE,

Written in the Year 1746.

How Neep the brave, who fink to rest
By all their country's wishes bleft!
When Spring, with dewy fingers cold,
Returns to deck their hallow'd mould,
She there shall dress a sweeter sod,
Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.
By Fairy hands their knell is rung,
By forms unseen their dirge is sung;

There Honour comes, a pilgrim grey,
To bless the turf that wraps their clay';
And Freedom fhall awhile repair,
To dwell a weeping hermit there.



aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song, May hope, chaste Eve, to soothe thy modeft ear, ‘Like thy own folemn springs,

Thy (prings, and dying gales; O nymph reserv’d, while now the bright-hair'd fun Sits in yon western tent, whose cloudy skirts, With bredé ethereal wove,

O'erhang his wavy bed : Now air is hush', save where the weak-eyed bat, With short shrill shriek Aits by on leathern wing,

Or where the beetle winds

His small but sullen horn,
As oft he rises ’midst the twilight path,
Against the pilgrim borre in heedless hum:

Now teach me, maid compos'd,

To breathe fome foften'd strain, Whose numbers stealing thro' thy darkening vale, May not unseemly with its stillness suit,

As, mufing flow, I hail

Thy genial lov'd return!
For when thy folding-ftar arising shows
His paly circlet, at his warning lamp

The fragrant hours, and elves

Who Nept in buds the day, And many a nymph who wreathes her brows with fedge, And sheds the freshening dew; and, lovlier still,

The pensive pleasures sweet

Prepare thy shadowy car.
Then let me rove some wild and heathy scene,
Or find some ruin ’midst its dreary dells,

Whose walls more awful nod

By thy religious gleams.
Or if chill blustering winds, or driving rain,
Prevent my willing feet, be mine the but,

That from the mountain's fide

Views wilds and swelling floods,
And hamlets brown, and dim-discover'd spires,
And hears their fimple bell, and marks o'er all

Thy dewy fingers draw

The gradual dusky veil. While Spring shall pour his show'rs, as oft he wont, And bathe thy breathing trefies, meekest Eve!

While Summer loves to sport

Beneath thy lingering light;
While fallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves,
Or Winter, yelling through the troublous air,

Affrights thy shrinking train,
And rudely rends thy robes ;
So long, regardful of thy quiet rule,
Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace,

Thy gentlest influence own,
And love thy favourite name!

Or, The Shepherd's Moral.

AN ORIENTAL ECLOGUE. Scene, a Valley near Bagdat..---Time; the Morning. * Ye Persian maids, attend your poet's lays, • And hear how shepherds pass their golden days. “ Not all are bleft, whom Fortune's hand sustains “With wealth in courts, nor all that haunt the plains : " Well may your hearts believe the truths I tell ; " 'Tis Virtue makes the bliss where'er we dwell.”

Thus Selim sung, by sacred Truth inspir'd;
Nor praise, but such as Truth bestow'd, desir'd:
Wise in himself, his meaning songs convey'd
Informing morals to the shepherd inaid ;
Or taught the swains that surest bliss to find,
What groves nor streams bestow--a virtuous mind.

When sweet and blushing, like a virgin bride,
The radiant morn resum'd her orient pride;
When wanton gales along the vallies play,
Breathe on each flow'r, and bear their sweets away ;
By Tygris? wand'ring waves he sat, and sung
This useful lesson for the fair and young:

* Ye Persian dames," he said, to you belong (Well may they please) the morals of my song : “ No fairer maids, I trust, than you are found, " Grac'd with soft arts, the peopled world around ! "The morn that lights you, to your loves supplies “Each gentler ray, delicious to your eyes ; " For you those pow'rs her fragrant hands bestow, “And yours the love that kings delight to know.


«Yet think not these, all-beauteous as they are, “ The best kind blessings Heaven can grant the fair : " Who trust alone in beauty's feeble ray, « Boast but the worth Balfora's* pearls display! - Drawn from the deep, we own the furface bright; “ But, dark within, they drink no lustrous light. " Such are the maids, and such the charms they boast, “ By fense unaided, or to virtue lost. “ Self-flatt'ring sex! your hearts believe in vain " That Love shall blind, when once he fires the Twain ; 6. Or hope a lover by your faults to win, “ As spots on ermine beautify the skin : « Who seeks fecure to rule, be first her care " Each fofter virtue that adorns the fair; “ Each tender paffion man delights to find, The lov'd perfection of a female mind !

« Bleft were the days when Wisdom held her reign, “ And shepherds fought her on the filent plain; • With Truth the wedded in the secret grove, “ Immortal Truth ! and daughters bless'd their love.

“ O haste, fair maids! ye virtues, come away! " Sweet Peace and Plenty lead you on your way! “ The balmy shrub for you shall love our shore,

By Ind excell'd, or Araby, no more.

“ Loft to our fields, for fo the fates ordain, " The dear deferters shall return again, • Come thou whofe thoughts as limpid springs are clearg • To lead the train, sweet Modesty! appear: " Here make thy court amdit our rural scene, " And thepherd girls shall own thee for their queen:

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* The Gulf of that name, famous for the pearl-fishery.

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