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Scarce stole a breeze to wave the leafy spray, Forget that e'er my wrapt attention hung
written in the Year 1756. Here Truth's collected beams first fill'd his mind,
By Mr. Robert LLOYD. Ere long to burst in blessings on mankind; Ere long to show to reason's purged eye, You know, dear George, I'ın none of those That “ Nature's first best gift was Liberty." | That condescend to write in prose :
Proud of this won'drous son, sublime I stood, Inspir'd with pathos and sublime, (While louder surges swellid my rapid flood); | I always soar - in doggrel rhyme ; Then, vain as Niobc, exulting cried,
| And scarce cau ask you how you do, Ilissus ! roll thy fam'd Athenian tide;
Without a jingling line or two.
Perhaps the reason makes it please
| Than Addison, and his Spectator; See ! Gothic Licence rage o'er all my coast; Who says (it is no matter where, See! Hydra Faction spreads its impious reign, But that he says it I can swear) Poison each breast, and madden ev'ry brain : With easy verse most bards are smitten, Hence frontless crowds that, not content to fright Because they thiuk it 's easy written; The blushing Cynthia from her throne of night, Whereas, the easier it appears, Blast the fair face of day; and, madly bold, The greater marks of care it wears; To Freedom's foes infernal orgies hald; of which to give an explanation, To Freedom's foes, ah! see the goblet crown'd, Take this, by way of illustration : Hear plausive shouts to Freedom's foes resound ; 1 The fam'd Mat. Prior, it is said, The horrid notes my refluent waters daunt, Toft bit his nails, and scratch'd his head, The Echoes groan, ihe Dryads quit their haunt; And chang'd a thought a hundred times, Learning, that once to all diffus'd her beam, Because he did not like the rhymnes : Now sheds, by stealth, a partial private gleam To make my meaning clear, and please ve, In some lone cloister's inelancholy shade, | In short, he labor'd to write easy. Where a firm few support her sickly head, And yet no Critic e'er defines Despis'd, insulted, by the barb'rous train, His poem's into labor'd lines. Who scour, like Thracia's moon-struck sout, I have a simile will hit him; the plain,
| His verse, like clothes, was made to fit him ; Sworn foes, like them, to all the Muse approves, Which (as no taylor e'er denied) All Phæbus favors, or Minerva loves.
The better fit the more they're tried. Are these the sons my fost'ring breast mastrear, Thongh I have mentioneil Prior's nante, Grac'd with my name, and nurtur'd by my care? Think not I aim at Prior's fame. Must these go forth from my maternal hand 'Tis the result of admiration To deal their insults thro' a peaceful land ; To spend itself in imitation And boast, while Freedom bleeds, and Virtue If initation may be said, graans,
Which is in mne by nature bred,"
spreads We travel in the beaten road :
Ere Colman wrote in style so pure,
10 may his name these verses save, Or the great Town the Connoisseur ;
Be these inscrib'd upon his grare : Ere I burlesqu'd the rural cit,
“Know, Reader, that on Thursday died Proud to hedge in my scraps of wit,
" The Connoisseur, a Suicide! And, happy in the close connexion,
" Yet think not that his soul is fled,
“ Howe'er defunct you set hiin down,
Methinks there is no better time
§ 116. Ode to Arthur Onslow, Esgt. Than now, when I, why from beginning Was always fond of couplet-sinning,
| This goodly frame what virtue so approves, Presuming on good-nature's scoré,
And testifies the pure ethereal spirit, Thus lay my bantling at your door.
As mild Benevolence ! The first advantage which I see
She, with her sister Mercy, still awaits Is, that I ranihle loose and free:
Beside th' eternal throne of Jove, The bard indeed full oft complains
And ineasures forth with unwithdrawing hand That rhymes are fetters, links, and chains;
The blessings of the various year, And, when he wants to leap the fence, Sunshine or show'r, and chides the malding Still keeps him pris'ner to the sense.
tempest. Howe'er in common-place he rage,
With her ihe heaven-bred nymph, meek ChaRhyme 's like your fetiers on the stage, Shall fashion Onslow forth in fairest portrait; Which, when the player once hath wore,
And with recording care It makes him only strut the more,
Weave the fresh wreath that flow'ring virtue While, raving in pathetic strains,
claims. He shakes his legs to clank his chains.
But, oh, what Muse shall join the band? From rhyme, as from a handsome face, He long has sojourn'd in the sacred haunts," Nonsense acquires a kind of gracé ;
And knows cach whisp'ring grol and I therefore give it all its scope, That sense inay, un perceiv'd, elope.
Trod by Apollo and the light-foot Graces, Sollers of basest tricks
How then shall awkward gratitude, (I love a Aling at politics)
And the presumption of untular'd duly, Amuse the nation, court, and king,
Attune my numbers, all too riide? With breaking F-kes, and lianging Byng; (Little he recks the meed of such a song; And make each puny rogue a prey,
Yet will I stretch aloof, While they, the greater, slink away.
And when I tell of Courtesy,
Of well-attemper'd Zeal,
Where shall the lineaments agree
But in thee, Onslow? You your.wonted leave Say, did you never chance to mcet
|Indulge me, nor misoleem a soldier's bold emA mob of people in the street, Ready to give ihe robb'd relief,
Who, in the dissonance of barb'rmus war And in als haste to catch a thief;
Long train's, revisits of the sacred treasures While the sly rogue who filch'd the prey,
Of antiquc memory! Too close beset to run away,
Or where sage Pindar reins his ficry car Stop thief! stop thief! exclaims aloud,
Through the vast vault of Heaven secure, And so escapes among the crowd ?
Or what th' Attic Murse that Homer fillid, So Ministers, &c.
Her other son, thy Milton tanght, O England, how I inourn thy fate!
Or range the flow'ry fields of gentle Spencer. For sure thy losses now are great;
And, ever as I go, allurements vain. Two such what Briton can endure?
Cherish a feeble fire, and feed my idle , Minorca, and the Connoisseur !
Fancy : oh could I once To-day *, or c'er the sun goes down,
Charm to their melody my shrilling reeds ! Will die the Censor, Mr. Town!
To Henries and to Edwards old.. He dies, whoe'er takes pains to con him,
Dread names! I'd meditate the faithful song: With “ blushing honors thick upon him :" I Or tell what time Britannia,
September 30th, 1756, when Mr. Town, author of the Connoisseur, a periodical Essay (since published in four volumes, printed for R. Baldwin, London), took leave of his readers, with an hu. morous account of himself.
4 This elegant Poem was written by a Gentleman well known in the learned world, as a token of gra. titude for favors conferred on his father during the last war, whose character he has therein assumed
5 k 2
Whilom the fairest daughter of old Ocean, Hark! yon deep echo strikes the trembling ear! In loathly disarray, dull eyes,
See night's dun curtain wraps the darksome pole! And faded cheek, wept o'er her abject sons : O'er heaven's blue arch yon rolling worlds ape Till William, great deliverer!
pear, Led on the comely train, giy Liberty, And rouse io solemn thonght, th' aspiring soul. Religion, matron staid,
O lead my steps beneath the moon's dim say, With all her kindred goddesses ;
Where Tádmor stands all desert and alone! Justice, with steady brow,
While from her time-shook tow'rs the bird of Trim Plenty, laureat Peace, and green-hair'd prey
Sounds thro' the night her long-resounding In flowing rest of thousand hues.
Or bear me far to yon dark, dismal plain, Fain would I shadow out old Bourbon's pile Where fell-eyed tigers, all athirst for blood, Tott'ring with doubtful weight, and threat'ving Howl to the desert; while the horrid train cumb'rous fall;
Roams o'er the wild where once great Babel Or trace our navy, where in tow'ring pride
stood; O'er the wide swelling waste it rolls avengeful. Ithne
That queen of nations ! whose superior call As when collected clouds
Rous'd the broad East, and bid her arms destror! Forth from the gloomy south, in deep array, When warm'd to mirth, let judgement mark het
Athwart the dark ning landscape throng, Fraught with loud storins, and thunder's dread
And deep reflection dasla the lip of joy. [fall, ful peal,
Short is Ambition's gay deceitful dream, At which the murd'rer stands ayhast,
Through wreaths of blooining laurel bind her And wasting Riot ill dissembles terror.
brow: How hcadlonz Rhone and Ebro, erst distaiv'd l Calm thought dispels the visionary scheme, With Moorish carnage, quakes thro' all her And
Tell her And Time's cold breath dissolves the with'ring branches !
A bough. Soon shall I great the morn, [name, Slow as some minor saps th' aspiring tow'r, When, Europe sav'd, Britain and George's When working secret with destructive aim,
Shall sound o'er Flandria's level field, Unseen, unheard, thus moves the stealing hour, Familiar in domestic merriment;
But works the fall of empire, pomp, and naine, Or by the jolly mariner
Then let thy pencil mark the traits of inan; Be carol'd loud adown the echoing Danube. Full in the draught be keen-eyed Hope por. The just memorial ot' fair deeds
tray'd: Still flourishes, and, like th’untainted soul, Let flutt'ring Cupids crowd the growing plan: Blossoms in freshest age above
Thengive one torch, and dash it deepwithshade. The weary flesh, and envy's rankling wound. Beneath the plume that fames with glancing
Such, after years mature,
Be Cares deop engines on the soul impress'd;
| Beneath the hemlet's keen refulgent blaze Well principled in ev'ry virtue bloom!
Let Grief sit pining in the canker'd breast. Till a fresh-springing Aock implore Withinfanthands a grandšire's vow'tfulvrav's. I Let Love's gay sons, 2 smiling train, appear. Or round your honor'd couch their prättling
With beauty pierc'd-yet heedless of the dart : sports pursue.
While,closely-couchd, pale, sick'ning Envy near
| Whets her fell sting, and points it at the heart. $ 11%. Ode to Melancholy. OGILVIE.. Perch'd, like a raven, on some blasted yew, ower of thoughe qublime propitious Let Guilt rerolve the thoughi-distracting sin;
Scari-whilcher eyes survey th'ethereal blue, pow'r, Who ver the unbounded waste art jord tó Lest heaven's strong lightning burst the dark Led by the moon, when, at the inidnight hour,
within. Her pale rays iremble thro' the dusky gloom. Then paint, impending o'ér the maddening deep O bear rue. Goddess, to thy peaceful scat! That rock, where hcart-struck Sappho, rainly Whether to Hécla's cloud-wrapt brow convey'd, l. a's cloud.wrio brow cowvevid
brave, Orlodg'd where mountains screen thydeepretreat. I Stood firm of soul then from the dizzy steen Or wand'ring wild thro' Chili's boundless shade. Impetuvus sprung, and dash'd the boiling ware. Say, rove thy steps o'er Libya's naked waste? Here, wrapt in studious thought, let Fancy rove, Or seck soine distant solitary shore?
Still prompt to mark Suspicion's secret snare; Or, on the Ande's topmost inountain placid,
To see where Anguish nips the bloom of Love, Dust sit, and hear the soleinn thunder roar? 1 Or trace more Grandeur to the domes of Care. Fix'd on some hanging rock's projected brow, Should e'er Ambition's tow’ring hopes inflame, Hear'st thou low murmursfrom thedistantdome? Let judging reason draw the veil aside ; Or stray thy feet where pale, dejected Woe Or, fir'd with envy at sorne mighty naine. Pours her long wail from some lamented tomb? Read o'er the monument that ielis - Iled ed.
What What are the ensigns of imperial sway? Or where the violet palc "l'hat all that Forinne's lib’ral hand has brought? Droops o'er the green-embroider'd stream; Teach they the voice to pour a sweeter lay? Or where young Zephyr stirs the rustling sprays, Ör rouse the soul to more exalted thought? Lies alt dissolvid in fairy dream. When bleeds the heart as Genius blooms un O'er yon bleak desert's unfrequented round known? Sudden the mantling cliff, the arching wood, Hears not the mourner's unarailing moan : The broider'd mead, the landscape and the grove, Heart-pierc'd he Llecds; and, stung with wild Hills, vales, and sky-dipt seas, and torrents rule, lespair,
Seest thou where Nature treads the deep'ning When melts the creo'er Virtue's mournful bier?! ' gloom, Not wealth, but pitv, stells the bursting groan? Sits on yon hoary tow'r with ivy crown'd, Not pow'r, but whisp'ring Nature, prompts the Or wildly wails o'er thy lamented tomb? tear.
| Hear'st thouthesolemn music wind along? [song? Sav, gentle mourner, in yon mouldy vault,
| Or thrills the warbling note in thy mellifluous Where the worm faciens on somescepter'd brow,
1. 2. Beneath that roof with sculptur'd marblefraught, Oft, while on earth, 'twas thine to rore Why sleeps unmor’d the breathless dust below? Where'er the wild-ey'd goddess loved to roam, Sleeps it more sweetly than the simple swain To trace serene the gloomy grove, Beneath sone mossy turf that rests his head: Or haunt meek Quiet's simple dome ; Where the lone widow tells the night her pain, Still hovering round the Nine appear, And eve with dewy tears embalnıs ilie dead? That pour the soul transporting strain; The lily, screen'd from ev'ry ruder gale,
| Join'd to the Loves' gay irain, Courts not the cultur'd spot where roses spring; 11
The loose rob’d Graces, crown'd with Aow'rs, But hlows neglected in the peaceful vale,
| The light wing'd gales that lead the rernal year, And scents thie zephyr's balmy breathing wing. And wake the rosy-featur d hours.
O'er all bright Fancy's beamy radiance shone,
5: How Aam'd thy bosom as her charms rescal! Can these bid Sorrow's gushing tears subside?
| Her fire-clad eje sublime, her starry zone,
u. Can these avail in that iremendous hour,(iide? |
Her 'traces loose, that wanton'd on the gale: When Death's cold hand congeals the purple On
als we purple On thee the goddess fix'd her ardent look, Ah no! the mighty names are heard no inore' : 1 Then from her glowing lips these melting ac, Pride's thought sublime, and Beauty's kindling cents broke: bloon,
1 : ..
1. 3 Serre but to sport one flying moment o'er, And swell with pompous verse th' escutcheon'd - The lays that steal the list'ning hour;
w" To thee my favorite son, belong tomb.
“ To pour the rapture-darting song, For me- may Passion ne'er my soul invade, « To paint gay Hope's Elysian bower. Nor be the whions of tow’sing Phrouzy giv'n ; l. Fro
ing Inrenzy givni,“ From Nature's hand to snatch the dart, so Let Wealth ve'er court ine from the peaceful" To cleave with pangs the bleeding heart; shade
I [ven !|-- Or lightly sweep the trembling string,
" Or pensive Pity, pale; Then, stretch'd in silence o'er my dusiy bed, • Or Love's desponding tale
stear." Pour the warm gush of sympathetic tears.
(« Call from th' intender'd heart the sympathetic
II. 1. 6 118. Ode to the Genius of Shakspeare. Say, whence the magic of thy mind?
Why thrills thy music on the springs of thought
Why, at thy pencil's touch refin'd,
Starts into life the glowing draught?
On yonder fairy carpet laid;
| And zephyr breathes perfuine; Or skims its fields with rapid Aight?
There nightly to the tranced eye Or, mid yon plains where Fancy strays, .. Profuse the radiant goddess stood display'd, Courts it the balmy breathing gale ?
| With all her smiling offspriug nigh.
Thais. Grots, rills, and shades, and bow'ss, that breath'd Bares his time-blasted head, and tears his silver of love,
III. 2. All burst to sight! while glancing on the view, Lo! on yon long-resounding shore, Titania's sporting train brush'd lighily o'er the Where the rock totters o'er the headlong deepi II. 9.
[dew. What phantoins bath'd in infant gore The pale eyid Genius of the shade
Stand mult'ring on the dizzy sicep! Led ihy bold step to Prosper's magic how'r ; Their murmur shakes the zephyr's wing! Whose voice the howling winds obey'd, | The storm obeys their powerful spell; Whose dark spell chain d the rapid hour :
See from this glooiny cell . Then rose serene the sea-girt isle;
Fierce Winter starts ! his scowling ere Gay scenes, by Fancy's touch rctin'd,
Blots the fair mantle of the breathing Spring, Glow'd to the musing mind :
And lowers along the ruffled sky, Such visions bless the hermii's dream,
To the deep vault the yelling harpies run $; When hovering angels prompt his placid smile, Its yawning mouth receives th' infernal crew, Or paint soine high ecsiatic ihenie.
| Diun thro' the black gloom winks the glimmerThen fam'd Miranda on th' en raptur'd gaze,
ing sun, Then sail'd bright Arielon the bat's' Aect wing: And the pale furnace gleams with brimstoneblue. Or starts the list ning throng in still amaze,
Hell howls; andfiends,that join the dire acclaim, The wild note trembling on the aërial string! Dance on the bubbling tide, and point the The forin, in heaven's resplendent vesture gay,
livid Alamc. Floais on the mandling cloud, aud pours the
But, ah! on Sorrow's cypress bough
Can beauty breathe her genial bloom?
On Death's cold cheek will passjon glow? Il'hose murmur soothes the car of woe!
| Or Music warble from the tomb? Tiere in some sweet poctic dreain
| There sleeps the Bard, whose tuveful tongue Let Fancy's bright Elisiudi glow !
Pour'd the full stream of mazy song. "lis done -oer all the blushing mead
Young Spring, with lip of ruby, here The dark wood shakes his cloudy head :
Show'rs from her lap the blushing year ; Below, the lily-fringed dale
While, along the turf reclin'd, Breathes its mild fragrance on the gale;
The loose wing swimming on the wind, While, in pastime all unseen,
The Loves, with forward gesture bold, Titania, robd in manile green,
Sprinkle the sod with spangling gold: Sports on the mossy bank : her train
And oft the blue-eyed Graces trin Skinis light along the gleaming plain :
Dance lightly round on downy limb, Or to the flutl'ring breeze unfold
Oft too, when eve, demure and still, The blue wing streak'd with beamy gold; .
Chequers the green dale's purling rill, Its pinions op'ning to the light !-
Sweet Fancy pours the plaintire strain ; Say, bursts the vision on my sight?
Or, wrapt in soothing cream, Ah, no! by Shakspeare's pencil drawn,
: By Avon's ruffled stream,
(the plain. The beauteous shapes appear;
Hears the low-murmuring gale that dies along While meek-eyed Cynthia near [lawnt. 1819. Ode to Time; occasioned ly seeing the Illumes with streamy ray the silver mantled
Ruins of an old Castle. OGILVIE. III. 1.
I. 1. But hark! the tempest howls afar, (waste! O Thou, who mid the world-inrolring gloon, Bursts ihe lond whirlwind o'er the pathless Sitt'st bn yon solitary spire ! What cherub blows the trump of war? Or slowly shak'st the sounding dome, What demon rides the stormy blast?
Or hear'st the wildly-warbling lyre; Red from the lightning's livid blaze,
Say, when thy musing soul The bleak heath rushes ou the sight;
Bids distant times unrol, Then, wrapt in'sudden night
| And marks the flight of each revolving year, Dissolves. - But, ah ! what kingly form of years whose slow-consuming pow'r. Roamis the lonė desert's desolated mazet Has clad with moss yon leaning tow's Unåw'd, nor heeds the sweeping storm? That saw the race of Glory ruli,... Ye pale-ey'd lightnings, spare the cheek of age! That mark'd Ambition's setting sun, Vainwish! tho'anguishhcavestheburstinggroan, "That shook old Empire's tow'ring pride, Deaf as the fint, the marble ear of rage . That swept them down the floating tide • Ariel : see the Tempest. + See the Midsummer Night's Dream.
Lear. $ The Witches in Macbeth.