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In vain no ill shall haunt the walks of life,

No vice in vain the human heart deprave.
The pois’nous flower, the tempest's raging strife In spite of all the rusty fools

From greater pain, from greater ruin save. That glean old nonsense in the schools ;
Lavinia, form’d with every powerful grace,

Nature, a mistress never coy, With all that lights the name of young desire;

Has wrote on all her works-Enjoy. Pure ease of wit, and elegance of face,

Shall we then starve, like Gideon's wife, A soul all fancy, and an eye all fire:

And die to save a makeweight's life?

No, friend of Nature, you disdain Lavinia ! Peace, my busy Auttering breast!

So fair a hand shou'd work in vain. Nor fear to languish in thy former pain :

But, my good lord, make her your guide, At length she yields—she yields the needful rest; | And err not on the other side:

And frees her lover from bis galling chain. Like her, in all you deign to do, The golden star, that leads the radiant morn, Be liberal, but be sparing too.

Looks not so fair, fresh-rising from the main ; When sly sir Toby, night by night, But her bent eye-brow bears forbidding scorn,

With his dear bags regales his sight; Bat Pride's fell furies every heart-string strain. And conscience, reason, pity sleep,

Tho'virtue pine, tho' merit weep ;
Latinia, thanks to thy ingentle mind;

I see the keen reproaches fiy
I now behold thee with indifferent eyes ;
And Reason dares, tho' Love as Death be blind, Each bounteous wish glows unconfin'd,

Indignant from your honest eye;
Thy gay, thy worthless bei to despise.

And your breast labours to be kind. Beauty may charm without one inward grace, At this warm hour, my lord, beware

And fair proportions win the captive heart; The servileflatterer's specious snare, But let rank pride the pleasing form debase, The fawning sycophant, whose art

And Love disgusted breaks his erring dart. Marks the kind motions of the heart : The youth that once the sculptur’d nymph That acts the graceful, wise, or brave.

Each idle, each insidious knave, admir'd, Had look'd with scornful laughter on her charms,

With festive board, and social eye, If the vain form, with recent life inspir'd,

You've seen old Hospitality ;

Mounted astride the moss-grown wall, Had turn'd disdainful from bis offer'd arms.

The genius of the ancient hall. Go, thoughtless maid ! of transient beauty vain,

So reverend, with such courtly glee, Feed the high thought, the towering hope ex- He serv'd your noble ancestry; tend;

And turn'd the hinge of many a gate,
Still may'st thou dream of splendour in thy train, For Russel, Rous, Plantagenel.
And smile superb, while love and flattery bend.

No lying porter levied there
For me, sweet peace shall soothe my troubled His dues on all imported ware;

There, rang'd in rows, no liveried train
And easy slumbers close my weary eyes ;

E’er begg'd their master's beef again;
Since Reason dares, tho' Love as Death be blind, No flatterer's planetary face
Thý gay, thy worthless being to despise.

Plied for a bottle, or a place;
Toad-eating France, and fiddling Rome,

Kept their lean rascals starv'd at home.

“ Thrice happy days!”

In this, 'tis true,
Old times were better than the new;

Yet some egregious faults you'll see o THOU that shalt presume to tread

In ancient Hospitality. This mansion of the mighty dead,

See motley crowds, his roof beneath, Come with the free, untainted mind;

Put poor Society to death! The nurse, the pedant leave behind;

Priests, knights, and 'squires, debating wild, And all that superstition, fraught

On themes unworthy of a child; With folly's Jore, thy youth has taught

"Till the strange compliment commences, Each thought that reason can't retain,

To praise their host, and lose their senses. Leave it, and learn to think again.

Go then, my lord ! keep open hall; Yet, while thy studious eyes explore,

Proclaim your table free for all; And range these various volumes o'er,

Go, sacrifice your time, your wealth, Trust blindly to no fav’rite pen,

Your patience, liberty, and health, Rememb'ring authors are but men.

To such a thought- renouncing crew, Has fair Philosophy thy love?

Such foes to care-e'en care for you. Away! she lives in yonder grove.

“ Heav'ns ! and are these the plagues that wait If the sweet Muse thy pleasure gives ;

Around the hospitable gate? With her in yonder grove she lives :

Let tenfold iron bolt my door, And if Religion claims thy care ;

And the gaunt mastiff growl before; Religion, fed from books, is there.

There, not one human creature nigh, For first from Nature's works we drew

Save, dear sir Toby, you and I,
Our knowledge, and our virtue too.

In cynic silence let us dwell ;
Ye plagues of social life, farewell !"



Alas! are these the only meed

Of each kind thought, each virtuous deed,
These fruitless offerings that embalm the dead ?
Then, fairy-featur'd Hope, forbear-

No more thy fond illusions spread:
Thy shadowy scenes dissolv'd in air,

Thy visionary prospects fled;
With her they fled, at whose lamented shrine

Love, gratitude, and duty mingled tears,
Condemn'd each filial office to resign,
Nor hopeful more to sooth her long declining


Displeases this?—The modern way,
Perhaps, may pleasema public day.
“ A public day! detested name !
The farce of friendship and the shame.
Did ever social freedom come
Within the pale of drawing-room?
See pictur'd round the formal crowd!
How nice, how just each attitude :
My lord approaches--what surprise !
The pictures speak, the pictures rise !
Thrice ten times told the same salute,
Once more the minic forms are mute.
Meanwhile the envious rows between,
Distrust and Scandal walk unseen;
Their poisons silently infuse,
Till these suspect, and those abuse.

“ Far, far from these, in some lone shade,
Let me, in easy silence laid,
Where never fools, or slaves intrude,
Enjoy the sweets of solitude !"

What! quit the commerce of mankind !
Leave virtue, fame, and worth behind !
Who fly to solitary rest,
Are reason's savages at best.

Though human life's extensive field
Wild weeds and vexing brambles yield ;
Behold her smiling vallies bear
Mellifluous fruits, and lowrets fair!
The crowds of folly you despise-
Associate with the good and wise;
For virtue, rightly understood,
Is to be wise, anxl to be good.

TO MRS.******,
So feeble Naure weeps o'er Friendship's grave,
And mourns the rigour of that law she gave:
Yet, why not weep? When in that grave expire
All Pembroke's elegance, all Waldegrave's fire.
No more those eyes in soft effulgence move,
No more that bosom feels the spark of love,
O'er those pale cheeks the drooping Graces

And Fancy tears her wild wreath o'er that urn.
There Hope at Heaven once cast a doubtful eye,
Content repin'd, and Patience stole a sigh.
Fair Friendship griev'd o'er -'s sacred bier,
And Virtue wept, for **** dropt a tear.


TO MRS. GILLMAN. 1759. AA SCENES belov'd ! ah conscious shades, With sense enough for half your sex beside, That wave these parent-vales along !

With just no more than necessary pride; Ye bowers, where Fancy met the tuneful maids, With knowledge caught from Nature's living page, Ye mountains, vocal with my Doric song, Politely learn’d, and elegantly sage

Teach your wild echoes to complain Alas! how piteous, that jo such a mind In sighs of solemn woe, in broken sounds of pain. So many foibles free reception find ! For her I moum,

Can such a mind, ye gods! admit disdain ?
Now the cold tenant of the thoughtless um

Be partial, envious, covetous, and vain?
For her bewail these strains of woe,

Unwelcume truth! to love, to blindness clear!
For her these filial sorrows flow,

Yet, Gillman, hear it;—while you blush to hear: Source of my life, that led my tender years,

That in your gentle breast disdain can drell, With all a parent's pious fears,

Let knavery, meanness, pride that feel it, tell! That nurs’d my infant thought, and taught my And look with kindness on my faults and me.

With partial eye a friend's defects you see, mind to grow.

And does no envy tbat fair mind o'ersbade? Careful, she mark'd each dangerous way, Does no short sigh for greater wealth invade;

Where youth's unwary footsteps stray. When silent merit wants the fostering meed, She taught the struggling passions to subside, And the warm wish suggests the virtuous deed?

Where sacred truth, and reason guide, Fairly the charge of vanity you prove,
In virtue's glorious path to seek the realms of day. Vain of each virtue of the friends you love,
Lamented goodness! yet I see

What charms, what art of magic hare conspir'd The fond affections melting in her eye:

Of power to inake so many faults admir'd?
She bends its tearful orb on me,
And heaves the tender sigh:

As thoughtful, she the toils surveys,
That cruxd in life's perplexing maze, FRAGMENT OF A POEM WRITTEN
And for her children feels again

AT CLARE-HALL ON THE KING'S All, all that love can fear, and all that fear can


1760. O best of parents ! let me pour My sorrows o'er thy silent bed;

There early strew the vernal power, Wwwe every gale the voice of triumph brings, The parting tear at evening shed

And siniling Victory waves her purple wings;

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While earth and ocean yield their subject powers, That respite Cæsar shall with pleasure yield,
Neptune his waves and Cybele her towers; Due to the toils of many a well-fought field.
Yet will you deign thc Muse's voice to hear, Is there who shrinks at thought of dangers past,
And let her welcome greet a monarch's ear? The ragged mountain, or the pathless waste-
Yes; midst the toils of glory ill-repaid,

While savage hosts, or savage floods oppose, Oft has the monarch sought her soothing aid. Or shivering fancy pines in Alpine snows? See Frederic court her in the rage of war,

Let him retire to Latium's peaceful shore; Though rapid Vengeance urge his hostile car: He once has toil'd, and Cæsar asks no more. With her repos'd in philosophic rest,

Is there a Roman, whose unshaken breast The sage's sunshine smooths the warrior's breast. No pains have conquer'd, and no fears deprest ?

Whate'er Arcadian fancy feign'd of old Who, doom'd through Death's dread ministers Of halcyon days, and minutes plum'd with gold; Whate'er adorn'd the wisest, gentlest reign, Dares to chastise the insults of a foe; From you she hopes—let not her hopes be vain! Let him, his country's glory and her stay, Rise, ancient suns! advance, Pierian days! With reverence hear her, and with pride obey. Flow, Attic streams! and spring, Aonian bays: A form divine, in heavenly splendour bright, Cam, down thy wave in brisker mazes glide, Whose look threw radiance round the pall of And see new honours crown thy hoary side !

night, Thy osiers old see myrtle groves succeed! With calm severity approach'd and said, And the green laurel meet the waving reed! Wake thy dull car, and lift thy languid head. * * * * * * *

What! shall a Roman sink in soft repose,

And tamely sce the Britons aid his foes?

See them secure the rebel Gaul supply;
Spurn bis vain eagles and his power defy ?
Go! burst their barriers, obstinately brave;

Scale the wild rock, and beat the maddening 1758.

wave. Whex rough Helvetia's hardy sons obey, Here paus’d the chief; but waited no reply, And vanquish'd Belgia bows to Cæsar's sway The voice assenting spoke from every eye: When, scarce-beheld, embattled națions fall, Nor, as the kindness that reproach'd with fear, The fierce Sicambrian, and the faithless Gaul; Were dangers dreadful, or were toils severe. Tir'd Freedom leads her savage sons no more, But flies, subdued, to Albion's utmost shore. 'Twas then, while stillness grasp'd the sleeping INSCRIPTION IN A TEMPLE OF air,

And dewy slumbers seal'd the eye of care;
Divine Ambition to her votary came:

Sacred rise these walls to thee,
Her left hand waving, bore the trump of Fame; Blithe-eyed nyinph, Society!
Her right a regal sceptre seem'd to hold,

In whose dwelling, free and fair,
With gems far-blazing from the burnish'd gold. Converse smoothes the brow of Care.
And thus, “My son,” the queen of glory said; Who, when waggish Wit betray'd
“ Immortal Cæsar, raise thy languid head. To his arms a sylvan maid,
Shall Night's dull chains the man of counsels All beneath a myrtle tree,

In some vale of Arcady,
Or Morpheus rule the monarch of mankind ? Sprung, I ween, from such embrace,
See worlds unvanquish'd yet await thy sword! The lovely contrast in her face.
Barbaric lands, that scorn a Latian lord. [sky,

Perchance, the Muses as they stray'd,
See yon proud isle, whose mountains meet the Seeking other spring, or shade,
Thy foes encourage and thy power defy!

On the sweet child cast an eye
What, tho' by Nature's firmest bars securd, In some vale of Arcady;
By seas encircled, and with rocks immur'd, And blithest of the sisters three,
Shall Cæsar shrink the greatest toils to brave,

Gave her to Euphrosyne.
Scale the high rock, or beat the maddening The Grace, delighted, taught her care

The cordial sinile, the placid air; She spoke-her words the warrior's breast in- | How to chase, and how restrain flame

All the Acet, ideal train;
With rage indignant, and with conscious shame; How with apt words well-combin'd,
Already beat, the swelling floods give way,

To dress each image of the mind-
And the fell genii of the rocks obey:

Taught her how they disagree,
Already shouts of triumph rend the skies, Awkward fear and modesty,
Aud the thin rear of barbarous nations lies. And freedom and rusticity.
Quick round their chief his active legions True politeness how to know

From the superficial show;
Dwell on his eye, and wait the waving hand, From the coxcomb's shallow grace,
The hero rose, majestically slow,

And the many-modell'd face.
And look'd attention to the crowds below.

That Nature's unaffected ease " Romans and friends! is there who seeks for More than studied forms would please rest,

When to check the sportive vein, By labours vanquish'd, and with wounds opprest? When to Fancy yield the rein; VOL. XVI.




On the subject when to be

To rest in fearless ease! Grave or gay, reserv'd or frce :

Save weeping rills, to see no tear, The speaking air, th' impassion'd eye,

Save dying gales, no sigb to hear, The living suul of symmetry ;

No murmur, but the breeze. And that soft sympathy which binds

Say, would you change that peaceful cell, In magic chaius congenial ininds.

Where Sanctity and Silence dwell,

For Splendor's dazzling blaze ? INSCRIPTION IN A SEQUESTERED For all those gilded toys that glare GROTTO.

Round high-born Power's imperial chair,

Inviting fools to gaze ? 1763. Sweet Peace, that lov'st the silent hour,

Ah friend! Ambition's prospects close,

And, studious of your own repose,
The still retreat of leisure free;
Associate of each gentle power,

Be thankful here to live:
And eldest born of Harmony !

For, trust me, one protecting shed,

And nightly peace, and daily bread
O, if thou own’st this mossy cell,

Is all that life can give.
If thine this mansion of repose;
Permit me, nymph, with thee to dwell,
With thee my wakeful eye to close.


And tho' those glittering scenes should fade,
That Pleasure's rosy train prepares;

What vot'ry have they not betray'd?
What are they more than splendid cares?

Righ's sung the bard, that all-involving age

With hand impartial deals the ruthless blow; But smiling days, exempt from care,

That war, wide-wasting with impetuous rage,
But nights, when sleep, and silence reign;

Lays the tall spire and sky-crown'd turret lor.
Serenity, with aspect fair,
And love and joy are in thy train.

A pile stupendous, once of fair renown,

This mould'ring mass of shapeless ruin rose,

Where nudding heights of fractur'd culumas ANOTHER INSCRIPTION IN THE SAME GROTTO.

frown, 1756.

And birds obscene in ivy-bow'rs repose : O FAIREST of the village-born,

Oft the pale matron from the threat'ning wall, Content, inspire my careless lay!

Suspicious, bids her heedless children fly; Let no vain wish, no thought forlorn

Oft, as he views the meditated fall,
Throw darkness o'er the smiling day.

Full swiftly steps the frighted peasant by.
Forget'st thou, when we wander'd o'er
The sylvan Beleau's' sedgy shore,

But more respectful views th' historic sage,
Or rang'd the woodland wilds along ;

Musing, these awful relics of decay, How oft on Herclay's” mountaius high

That once a refuge form’d from hostile rage, We've met the Morning's purple eye,

In Henry's and in Edward's dubious day. Delay'd by many a song?

He pensive oft reviews the mighty dead, From thee, from those by fortune led;

That erst have trod this desolated ground; To all the farce of life confin'd;

Reflects how here unhappy Salsbury bled, At once each native pleasure fled,

When Faction aim'd the death-dispensing For thoni, sweet nymph, wast left behind.

wound. Yet could I once, once more survey

Rest, gentle Rivers ! and ill-fated Gray! Thy comely form in mantle grey,

A fow'r or tear oft stress your bumble grave, Thy polish'd brow, thy peaceful eye;

Whom Envy slew, to pave Ambition's way, Where e'er, forsaken fair, you dwell,

And whom a monarch wept in vain to sare, Though in this dim sequester'd cell,

Ah! what avail'd th'alliance of a throne ? With thee I'd live and die.

The pomp of titles what, or pow'r rever'd ?

Happier to these the humble life unknown,

With virtue lionour'd, and by peace endear'd.

Had thus the sons of bleeding Britain thought, Tarice happy you, whoe'er you are,

When hapless here inglorious Richard lay, From life's low cares secluded far,

Yet many a prince, whose blood full dearly In this sequester'd vale!

bought Ye rocks on precipices pild!

The shameful triumph of the long-fought day; Ye ragged desarts, waste and wild !

Yet many a hero, whose defeated hand Delightful horrours, hail !

lo death resign’d the well-contested field, What joy within these sunless groves,

Had in his offspring sav'd a sinking land, Where lonely Contemplation roves,

The tyraut's terrour, and the nation's shield. 1 A small river in Westmorland.

Ill could the Muse indignant grief forbear,

Shoud Mem'ry trace ber bleeding country's ? A romantic village in the above mentioned county, formerly the seat of the Herclays, earls "I could she count, without a bursting iear, [woes of Carlisle.

Th’ inglorious triumphs of the vary'd Rose !


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While York, with conquest and revenge elates Of Harmony immortal, first receiv'd

Insulting, triumphs on St. Alban's plain, Her sacred mandate. “Go, seraphic maid, Who views, nor pities Henry's hapless fate, Companion still to Nature; from her works

Himself a captive, and his leaders slain? Derive thy lay melodious, great, like those, Ah prince! unequal to the toils of war, To stem ambitious, faction's rage to quell;

Copy of the answer of the lord lieutenant to the

address of the house of commons, Feb. 27, 1762. Happier, from these had Fortune plac'd thee far, In some lone convent, or some peaceful cell. “ I shall take the first opportunity of laying

before his majesty the sense of the house of For what avail'd that thy victorious queen Repair'd the ruinsof that dreadful day;[green; fully into the truly liberal motives which have

commons contained in this address. I enter That vanquish'd York, on Wakefield's purple influenced your conduct in this unanimous resoProstrate amidst the common slaughter lay:

lution. That you are solicitous not only to supIn vain fair Vict'ry beam'd the gladd’ning eye, port his majesty's government, but to support it

And, waving oft her golden pinions, smil'd; with becoming grandeur and magnificence, reflects Full soon the Hattring goddess meant to fly, the highest honour on yourselves : that you have

Full rightly deem'd unsteady Fortune's child. chosen the time of my administration ; that you Let Towton's field—but cease the dismal tale:

have distinguish'd my person as the object of For much its horrours would the Muse appal,

your favour, reflects the bighest honour on me ;

andl must ever consider this event as one of the In softer strains suffice it to bewail

most fortunate and honourable circumstances The patriot's exile, or the hero's fall.

of my life. Whatever merit you ascribe to me Thus, silver Wharf', whose crystal-sparkling um in the government of this kingdom, in reality

Reflects the brilliance of his blooining shore, arises from your own conduct, though your parStill, melancholy-mazing, seems to mourn, tiality would transfer it to mine. Your unaniBut rolls, contus'd, a crimson wave no more mity has first created this merit, and your libera.

lity would now reward it. THE VICEROY:

“ I am sensible of the obligation you confer;

and I can in no way properly demonstrate my ADDRESSED TO THE EARL OF HALIFAX 2.

sense of it, but by being, as I am, unalterably FIRST PUBLISHED IN 1762.

determined to implore his majesty, that I may be 'Twas on Time's birth-day, when the voice divine permitted to enjoy it pure and unmixed with Wak'd sleeping Nature, while her infant eye, the lucrative advantages which you propose Yet trembling, struggld with created light; should attend it. This affectionate address is The heaven-born Muse, sprung from the source intended as an honour to me; that intention bas, sublime

on your part, been fully answered: to make it 'A river near the field of battle, in which were

truly honourable, something is still necessary

on mine: it becomes me to vie with the generolain 35,000 men.

2 The following resolution of the Irish house of sity of parliament, and to keep op an emulation commons respecting the revenue of the lord of this session, to propose large plans of publie

of sentiment. It has been my duty, in the course lieuteoant, and his excellency's speech in consequence thereof, will both illustrate this poem expense, and to promise an attention to public and show the occasion of it.

economy ; and I could not without pain submit,

that the establishment, already burthened at my Copy of a resolution of the Irish parliament, re

recommendation, should be still further charged specting the revenue of the lord lieutenant. Veneris, 26 Feb. 1762.

for my own particular profit.

“ But while I consider myself at liberty to sa. " Resolved, nemine contradicente, That an address be presented to his excellency the lord

crifice my private interests to my private feelings, lieutenant, that he will represent to his majesty I must consider myself as bound likewise to conthe sense of this bouse, that the entertainments sult, in compliance with your enlarged and liber

al sentiments, the future support of the station andappointments of the lord lieutenant of Ireland are become inadequate to the dignity of that high the emoluments are, as you represent them, in

in which I am placed, to the dignity of which office, and to the expense with which it is, and ought to be supported; and that it is the humble adequate. I shall transmit therefore the sense

of the house of commons, that the augmentadesire of this house, that his majesty will be graciously pleased to grant such an augmenta- it his majesty shall think tit, be made the esta.

tion which your generosity has proposed, may, tion to the entertainment of the lord lieutenant blishment of my successor, when he shall enter for the time being, as, with the present allowances, will in the whole amount to the annual sum

on the government of this kingdom ; and when of sixteen thousand pounds. And to express

it is probable the circumstances of this country that satisfaction which we feel at the pleasing burthen. But while I must decline accepting

may be better able to support such additional hope, that this just and necessary augmentation should take place during the administration of any part of the profits, I rejoice to charge myself a chief governor, whose many great and amiable with the whole of the obligation ; abundantly qualities, whose wise and happy administration happy, if, when I shall hereafter be removed from in the government of this kingdom, have univer- this high, and, through your favour, desireable sisally endeared him to the people of Ireland."

tuation, I should leave it, through your liberality, E. STERLING,

augmented in its emoluments, and by my inability Cler. Dom. Com. H.ALCOCK,

not diminished in its reputation.".

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