No wither'd witch fhall here be feen,

No goblins lead their nightly crew; The female fays fhall haunt the green, And drefs thy grave with pearly dew.

The red-breast oft at evening hours

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

To deck the ground where thou art laid.

When howling winds, and beating rain,
In tempeft shake thy fylvan cell;
Or 'midft the chace on every plain,

The tender thought on thee shall dwell:

Each lonely fcene fhali thee restore,
For thee the tear be duly fhed;
Belov'd, till life can charm no more ;
And mourn'd, till Pity's felf be dead.

ODE,

Written in the Year 1746.

How fleep the brave, who fink to reft

By all their country's wishes bleft!
When Spring, with dewy fingers cold,
Returns to deck their hallow'd mould,
She there fhall drefs a fweeter fod,
Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.
By Fairy hands their knell is rung,
By forms unfeen their dirge is fung j

There Honour comes, a pilgrim grey,
To blefs the turf that wraps their clay;
And Freedom shall awhile repair,

To dwell a weeping hermit there.

IF

ODE,

TO EVENING.

aught of oaten ftop, or paftoral song,

May hope, chafte Eve, to foothe thy modeft ear,
Like thy own folemn fprings,

Thy fprings, and dying gales;

O nymph referv'd, while now the bright-hair'd fun
Sits in yon western tent, whofe cloudy skirts,
With brede ethereal wove,

O'erhang his wavy bed:

Now air is hush'd, fave where the weak-eyed bat, With fhort fhrill fhriek flits by on leathern wing, Or where the beetle winds

His fmall but fullen horn,

As oft he rifes 'midft the twilight path,
Against the pilgrim borre in heedlefs hum:
Now teach me, maid compos'd,

To breathe some soften'd strain,

Whose numbers ftealing thro' thy darkening vale,

May not unfeemly with its ftillness fuit,

As, mufing flow, I hail

Thy genial lov'd return!

For when thy folding-ftar arifing shows
His paly circlet, at his warning lamp

The fragrant hours, and elves

Who flept in buds the day,

And many a nymph who wreathes her brows with fedge, And sheds the freshening dew; and, lovlier ftill, The penfive pleasures sweet

Prepare thy fhadowy car.

Then let me rove fome wild and heathy scene,
Or find fome ruin 'midst its dreary dells,
Whofe walls more awful nod

By thy religious gleams.

Or if chill bluftering winds, or driving rain,
Prevent my willing feet, be mine the hut,
That from the mountain's fide
Views wilds and fwelling 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 fhall pour his show'rs, as oft he wont,
And bathe thy breathing trefles, 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 fhrinking train,

And rudely rends thy robes;

So long, regardful of thy quiet rule,

Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace,

Thy gentleft 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 fhepherds pafs their golden days. "Not all are bleft, whom Fortune's hand fuftains "With wealth in courts, nor all that haunt the plains: "Well may your hearts believe the truths I tell ; "Tis Virtue makes the blifs where'er we dwell." Thus Selim sung, by facred Truth inspir'd; Nor praife, but fuch as Truth bestow'd, defir'd: Wife in himself, his meaning fongs convey'd Informing morals to the fhepherd maid ; Or taught the fwains that fureft blifs to find, What groves nor ftreams beftow-a virtuous mind. When fweet and blushing, like a virgin bride, The radiant morn refum'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 fat, and fung This ufeful lesson for the fair and young:

"Ye Perfian dames," he faid, " to you belong "(Well may they please) the morals of my song: "No fairer maids, I truft, than you are found, "Grac'd with foft arts, the peopled world around! "The morn that lights you, to your loves fupplies "Each gentler ray, delicious to your eyes;

"For

you thofe flow'rs her fragrant hands bestow, "And yours the love that kings delight to know.

M

"Yet think not thefe, all-beauteous as they are,
"The best kind bleffings Heaven can grant the fair:
"Who truft alone in beauty's feeble ray,

"Boaft but the worth Balfora's* pearls difplay!
"Drawn from the deep, we own the furface bright;
"But, dark within, they drink no luftrous light.
"Such are the maids, and such the charms they boast,
"By fenfe unaided, or to virtue loft.

"Self-flatt'ring fex! your hearts believe in vain "That Love fhall blind, when once he fires the fwain; "Or hope a lover by your faults to win, "As spots on ermine beautify the skin : "Who seeks fecure to rule, be firft 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 thepherds fought her on the filent plain; "With Truth fhe wedded in the fecret grove, "Immortal Truth! and daughters bless'd their love. "O hafte, fair maids! ye virtues, come away! "Sweet Peace and Plenty lead you on your way! "The balmy fhrub 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 fhall return again.

"Come thou whofe thoughts as limpid fprings are clear, "To lead the train, fweet Modesty ! appear:

"Here make thy court amdft our rural scene,

"And shepherd girls fhall own thee for their queen:

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