The facred groves a fix'd attention show," The arpital Helicon forbore to flow,

The fky grew bright, and (if his verse be true) The mules came to give the laurel too. But what avail'd the verdant prize of wit, Have fwore vengeance for the tales he writ? Ye fair offended, hear your friend relate What heavy judgment prov'd the writer's fate, Though when it happen'd no relation clears, Ta thought in five, or five and twenty years. Where, dark and filent, with a twisted fhade The neighbouring woods a native arbour made, There oft a tender pair, for amorous play Retiring, toy'd the ravish'd hours away; A Locrian youth, the gentle Troilus he, A fair Milesian, kind Evanthe fhe : Bet fwelling nature in a fatal hour Betray'd the fecrets of the conscious bower; The dire difgrace her brothers count their own, And track her steps, to make its author known.

It chanc'd one evening, 't was the lover's day, Conceal'd in brakes the jealous kindred lay; When Hefiod, wandering, mus'd along the plain, And fix'd his feat where love had fix'd the scene; A trong fufpicion ftrait poffefs their mind (For Poets ever were a gentle kind), But when Evanthe near the paffage stood, Flung back a doubtful look, and shot the wood, Now take (at once they cry) thy due reward." Asd, urg'd with erring rage, affault the bard. His corple the fea receiv'd. The dolphins bore ('Twas all the gods would do) the corpie to thore. Methinks I view the dead with pitying eyes, And fee the dreams of ancient wifdom rife; 1 fee the mufes round the body cry, Bat hear a cupid loudly laughing by; He wheels his arrow with infulting hand, Ard thus infcribes the moral on the fand.

Here Hefiod lies: ye future bards, beware How far your moral tales incenfe the fair. *Uslov'd, unloving, 't was his fate to bleed; Without his quiver, Cupid caus'd the deed: He jug'd this turn of malice juftly due, "And Hefiod dy'd for joys he never knew."

R

WHEN fpring came on with fresh delight,
To cheer the foul, and charm the fight,
While eafy breezes, fofter rain,
And warmer fans, falute the plain;
"Twas then, in yonder píny grove,
That nature went to meet with love.

Green was her robe, and green her wreath,
Where'er the trod, 'twas green beneath;
Where'er the turn'd, the pulfes beat
With new recruits of genial heat;
And in her train the birds appear,
To match for all the coming year.
Rais'd on a bank where daifies grew,
And violets intermix'd a blue,
She finds the boy fhe went to find;
A thousand pleasures wait behind,
Afide, a thousand arrows lie,
But all unfeather'd, wait to fly.

When they met, the dame and boy,
Dancing graces, idle joy,
Wanton fmiles, and airy play
Confpir'd to make the fcene be gay;

Love pair'd the birds through all the grove,
And nature bid them fing to love,
Sitting, hopping, fluttering, fing,
And pay their tribute from the wing,
To fledge the fhafts that idly lie,
And yet unfeather'd wait to fly

'Tis thu, when fpring renews the blood,
'They meet in every trembling wood,
And thrice they make the plumes agree,
And every dart they mount with three,
And every dart can boast a kind,
Which fuits each proper turn of mind.
From the towering eagle's plume
The generous hearts accept their doom;
Shot by the peacock's painted eye,
The vain and airy lovers die :
For careful dames and frugal men,
The fhafts are fpeckled by the hen.
The pyes and parrots deck the darts,
When prattling wins the panting hearts;
When from the voice the paffions fpring,
The warbling finch affords a wing:
Together, by the sparrow stung
Down fall the wanton and the young:

And fledg'd by geefe the weapons fly,
When others love they know not why.

All his (as late I chanc'd to rove)

I learn'd in yonder waving grove,
And fee, fays love, who call'd me near,
How much I deal with nature here;
How both fupport a proper part,
She gives the feather, I the dart :
Then ceafe for fouls averfe to figh,
If nature cross you, fo do I;
My weapon there unfeather'd flies,
And shakes and fhuffles through the skies.
But if the mutual charms I find

By which the links you mind to mind,
They wing my fhafts, I poize the darts,
And ftrike from both, through both your hearts,

ANACREONTIC.

GAY Bacchus, liking Eftcourt's wine,
A noble meal bespoke us;
And for the guests that were to dine,
Brought Comus, Love, and Jocus.

The god near Cupid drew his chair,
Near Comus, Jocus plac'd;
For wine makes love forget its care,
And mirth exalts a feast.

The more to please the fprightly god,
Each sweet engaging grace
Put on fome clothes to come abroad,
And took a waiter's place.

Then Cupid nam'd at every glass
A lady of the fky;

While Bacchus fwore he'd drink the lafs,
And had it bumper-high.

Fat Comus toft his brimmers o'er,

And always got the most ; Jocus took care to fill him more, Whene'er he mifs'd the toaft.

They call'd, and drank at every touch;
He fill'd and drank again;
And if the gods can take too much,

'Tis faid, they did fo then.

Gay Bacchus little Cupid ftung,

By reckoning his deceits; And Cupid mock'd his ftammering tongue, With all his staggering gaits:

Ard Jocus droll'd on Comus' ways,

And tales without a jeft;

While C mus call'd his witty plays
But waggeries at best.

Such talk foon fet them all at odds;
And had I Homer's pen,

A celebrated comedian and tavern-keeper.

rfing ye, how they drank like gods, And how they fought like men.

To part the fray, the graces fly,
Who make them foon agree:
Nay, had the furies felves been nigh,
They ftill were three to three.

Bacchus appeas'd, rais'd Cupid up,

And gave him back his bow; But kept fome darts to stir the cup, Where fack and sugar flow.

Jacus took Comus' rofy crown,

And gayly wore the prize,

And thrice, in mirth, he push'd him down, As thrice he ftrove to rife.

Then Cupid fought the myrtle grove,
Where Venus did recline;

And Venus close embracing love,
They join'd to rail at wine.

And Comus loudly curfing wit,
Roi'd off to fome retreat;
Where boon companions gravely fit
In fat unwieldy state.

Bacchus and Jocus ftill behind,
For one fresh glais prepare;
They kifs, and are exceeding kind,
And vow to be fincere.

But part in time, whoever hear
This our inftructive forg;

For though fuck friendships may be dear,
They can't continue long.

A FAIRY TALE.

IN THE ANCIENT ENGLISH STYLE.

Is Britain's ifle, and Arthur's days,
When midnight fairies daunc'd the maze,
Liv'd Edwin of the Green;
Edwin, I wis, a gentle youth,
Endow'd with courage, fenfe, and truth,
Though badly fhap'd he'd been.

His mountain back mote well be said,
To measure height against his head,
And lift itself above;

Yer, fpite of all that Nature did
To make his uncouth form forbid,
This creature dar'd to love.

He felt the charms of Edith's eyes, Not wanted hope to gain the prize, Could ladies look within; But one Sir Topaz dress'd with art, And, if a shape could win a heart, He had a shape to win.

2

Edwin, if right I read my fong,
With flighted paffion pac'd along
All in the moony light;
'Twas near an old enchanted court,
Where fportive fairies made refort
To revel out the night.

His heart was drear, his hope was cross'd, "Twas late, 'twas far, the path was lost

That reach'd the neighbour town; With weary steps he quits the fhades, Refolv'd, the darkling dome he treads, And drops his limbs adown.

But fcant he lays him on the floor,
When hollow winds remove the door,
And trembling rocks the ground:
And, well I ween to count aright,
At once a hundred tapers light
On all the walls around.

She twines the shooting myrtle into bowers,
And ties their mecting tops with wreaths of
flowers,

Then, rais'd fublimely on her eafy throne,
From Nature's powerful dictates draws her own.
Let thofe now love, who never lov'd before;
Let thee who always lov'd, now love the more.

Twas on that day which faw the teeming flood
Swell round, impregnate with celeftial blood;
Wandering in circles flood the finny crew,
The midit was left a void expanfe of blue,
There parent ocean work'd with heaving throes,
And dropping wet the fair Dione rofe.

Let thøje love now, who never lov'd before; Le t'fe who always lov'd, now love the more.

She paints the purple year with vary'd show, Tips the green gem, and makes the bloffom glow. She makes the turgid buds receive the breeze, Expand to leaves, and flade the naked trees. When gathering damps the misty nights diffuse, She frinkles all the morn with balmy dews; Bright trembling pearls depend at every pray, Acd, kept from falling, feem to fall away. A gely freihnefs hence the role receives, And bluthus fweet through all her filken leaves (The dr. ps descending through the filent night, While ftars fcrenely roll their golden light): Clofe till the morn, her humid veil the bolds; Then deckt with virgin pomp the flower unfolds. Soon will the morning bluth: ye maids! prepare, la roly garlands bind your flowing hair; Tis Venus' plant: the blood fair Venus fhed, O'er the gay beauty pour'd immortal red; From love's foft kiis a fweet ambrofial smell Was taught for ever on the leaves to dwell;

Let thofe now love, ruho never loo'd before; Let thofe she always lov’'d, now love the more.

Now fair Dione to the myrtle grove

Sends the gay nymphs, and fends her tender love.
And fhall they venture? Is it fafe to go,
While nymphs have hearts, and Cuti wears a bow?
Yes, fafely venture, 'tis his mother's will;
He walks unarm'd, and undefigning ill,
His torch extinct, his quiver useless hung,
His arrows idle, and his bow unítrung.
And yet, ye nymphs, beware, his eyes have charms;
And love that's naked, fill is love in arms.

Let thofe love now, who never lov'd before;
Let those robo always lov'd, now love the more.

From Venus' bower to Delia's lodge repairs A virgin train, complete with modeft airs: "Chafte Delia, grant our fuit! or fhun the wood, "Nor ftain this facred lawn with favage blood. "Venus, O Delia if she could pe fuade, "Would afk thy prefence, might fae afk a maid." Here cheerful quires for three aufpicious nights With fongs prolong the pleafurable rites: Here crowds in measure lightly-decent rove; Or feek by pairs the covert of the grove, Where meeting greens for arbours arch above, And mingling flow'rets ftrow the fcenes of love. Here dancing Ceres fhakes her golden fheaves; Here Bacchus revels, deck'd with viny leaves: Here Wit's enchanting god, in laurel crown'd, Wakes all the ravish'd hours with filver found. Ye fields, ye forefts, own Dione's reiga, Aud Delia, huntrefs Delia, fhun the plain.

Let thofe love now, robo never lov'd before; Let thofe who always lov'd, now love the more.

Gay with the bloom of all her opening year, The Queen at Hybla bids her throne appear; And there prefides; and there the favourite band (Her fnuling graces) thare the great command. Now, beauteous Hybla! drefs thy flowery beds With all the pride the lavish featon fheds; Now all thy colours, all thy fragrance yield, And rival Enna's aromatic field. To fill the prefence of the gentle court, Frem every quarter rural nymphs refort, [vales, From woods, from mountains, from their humble From waters curling with the wanton gales. Ficas'd with the joyful train, the laughing queen In circles feats them round the bank of green; And, " Lovely girls, the whifpers, guard your [arts: "My boy, though ftript of arms, abounds in Let thofe love now, rubo never lov'd before; Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.

hearts:

Let tender grafs in fhaded alleys spread, Let early flowers erect their painted head, To morrow's glory be to-morrow seen, That day, old Ether wedded Earth in green, The vernal father bid the fpring appear,

light,

The richest luftre makes her purple bright; And the to-morrow weds; the fporting gale Vaties her zone, fhe burfts the verdant veil; Through all her twee's the rifling lover flics, And as he breathes, her glowing fires arife.

The fap defcending o'er her bofom ran,
And all the various forts of foul began.
By wheels unknown to fight, by fecret veins
Diftilling life, the fruitful goddefs reigns,
Through all the lovely realms of native day,
Through all the circled land, and circling tea;