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Exultiug, trembling, raging, fainting,
Poffeft beyond the Muse's painting ;
By turns they felt the glowing mind
Disturb’d, delighted, rais'd, refin'd,
'Till once, 'tis faid, when all were fird,
Fill'd with fury, rapt, inspired,
From the supporting myrtles round
They snatch'd her instruments of found,
And as they oft had heard.apare:
Sweet lessons of her forceful art,
Each, for madness rul'd the hour,
Would prove his own expressive power.

First Fear his hand, its skill to try

Amid the chords bewilder'd laid, And back recoil'd, he knew not why,

Ev'n at the found himself had made.

Next Anger rulh'd, his eyes on fire,

In light’nings own'd his secret stings, In one rude clash he struck the lyre,

And fwept, with hurried hand, the firings.

With woful measures, wan Despair

Low sullen founds his grief beguild, A solemn, strange, and mingled air,

'Twas sad by fits, by starts 'twas wild.

But thou 0, Hope, with eyes so fair,

What was thy delighted Measure?

Still it whisper'd promis'd pleasure,
And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail !

Still would her touch the scene prolong,
And from the rocks, the woods, the vale,

She callid on Echo, still thro' all the song ;
A fost responsive voice was heard at every close,
And hope enchanted ímild, and wav'd her golden hair,

1

And longer had she fung,--but, with a frown,

Revenge impatient rose,
He threw his blood-stain'd sword in thunder down,

And with a withering look,

The war denouncing trumpet took,
And blew a blast so loud and dread,
Where ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woes,

And ever and anon he beat

The doubling drum with furious heat :
And tho' sometimes, each dreary pause between,

Dejected Pity at his fide,

Her foul-fubduing voice applied,
Yet ftill he kept his wild unalter'd mein,
While each strain'd ball of fight seem'd brufting from

his head.

Thy numbers Jealousy, to nought were fix'ı,

Sad proof of thy distressful state,
Of differing themes the veering song was mix'd

And now it courted Love, now,raving, call’d on Hate.

With eyes up rais’d, as one inspir’d,
Pale Melancholy fat retir’d.
And from her wild sequester'd seat,
In notes by distance made more fweet,
Pour'd through the mellow horn her pensive foul ;

And dashing soft from rocks around,

Bubbling runnels join'd the found: Thro' glades and glooms the mingled measure ftole, Or o'er fome haunted streams with fond delay,

Round an holy calm diffusing,

Love of peace and lonely musing,
In hollow murmers, die away.

But o, how alterd was its sprightlier tone!
When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue,

Her bow across her shoulder flung,
Her buskin's gemm’d with morning dew

Blew an aspiring air, that dale and thicket rung, The hunter's call to Faun and Dryad known;

The oak-crown'd fifters, and their chaste.ey'd queen
Satyrs and sylvan boys were seen,

Peeping from forth their alleys green ;
Brown Exercise rejoic'd to hear,
And Sport leap d up, and seiz’d his beechen [pear.

Last came Joy's extatic trial,

He, with viny crown advancing,
First to the lively pipe his hand addrest,
But soon he saw the brilk awakening viol,

Whose sweet entrancing voice he lov’d the best. They would have thought, who heard the strain, They saw in Tempe's vale her native maids,

To some unwearied minstrel dancing,
While, as his flying fingers kiss'd the strings..

Love fram'd with mirth a gay fantastic round,
Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound,
And he amid his frolic play,

As if he would the the charming air repay,
Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.

Music! sphere-descended maid,
Friend of pleasure. wisdom's aid,
Why, Goddess, why to us denied ?
Lay'st thou thy ancient lyre aside?
As in that lov'd Athenian bower,
You learn'd in all commanding power,
Thy mimic soul, O nymph endear'd,
Can well recal what then is heard.
Where is thy native simple heart,
Devote to virtue, fancy, art?
Arise, as in that elder time,
Warm, energic, chaste, sublime !
Thy wonders in that god-like age,
Fill thy recording fister's page

"Tis said, and I believe the tale,
Thy humblest reed could more prevail,
Had more of strength, diviner rage,
Than all which charms this laggard age,
Even all at once together found,
Cecilia's mingled world of sound
O bid our vain endeavours cease,
Revive the just designs of Greece.
Return in all thy simple state ;
Confirm the tales her sons relate!

THE

RUSTIC COT.

BY MASON.

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OR is that Cot, of which fond fancy draws

This casual picture, alien from our theme. Revisit it at morn; its opening latch, Tho' Penury and Toil within reside, Shall pour the forth a youthful progeny Glowing with health and beauty: (such the dower Of equal Heav'n) see how the ruddy tribe Throng round the threshold, and, with vacant gaze Salute thee; call the loiterers in to use, And form of these thy fence, the living fence That graces what it guards. . Thou think It perchance Thit, skill'd in nature's heraldry, thy art, Has, in the limits of yon fragrant tust, Marshall J each rose, that to the eye of June

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