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Shall seek where sweet Anacreon plays,

Some others have doubted like you,
Where Chapelle spends his festive days,

Like theın do you bless and be blest.
Where lies the vine-imparpled glacie
By tuneful Chaulieu vocal made,
Or where our Shepstone's mossy cell,

AN EPISTLE
Or where tbe fair Deshouliéres strays,
Or Hainmond and Pavillon dwell,

FROM THE KING OF PRUSSIA TO MONSIEUR VOL. And Gresset's gentle spirit roves

TAIRE. 1775. Surrounded by a group of Loves

Croyez que si j' etois, Voltaire, With roses crown'd and asphodel.

Particulier aujourdhui, Let the furr'd pedants of the schools,

Me contentant du necessaire,
In learning's formidable show,

Je verrois envoler la Fortune legere,
Full of wise saws and bookish rules,
The meagre dupes of misery grow,

Et m'en mocquerois comme lui.

Je connois l'ennui des grandeurs, A lovelier doctrine I profess

Le fardeau des devoirs, le jargon des Gateurs, Than their dull science can avow;

Et tout l'amas des petitesses,
All that belongs to happiness

Et leurs genres et leurs especes,
Their hearts are welcome still to know,
My heari's contented to possess.

Dont il faut s'occuper dans le sein des honneurs. For in soft elegance and ease,

Je meprise la vaine glorie,

Quoique poëte et souverain, Secure of living whilst I live,

Quand du ciseau fatal retranchant mon destin Each momentary bliss Í seize, Ere these warm faculties decay,

Atropos m’aura vu plonge dans la nuit noire,

Que m'importe l'honneur incertain
The fleeting moments to deceive
Of human life's allotted day.

De vivre apres ma mort au temple de menioire:

Un instant de bonheur vaut mille ans dans l'his. And when th' invidious band of Time

Nos destins sont ils donc si beaux? By stealth shali silver o'er my head,

(toire.

Le doux plaisir et la mollesse, Still Pleasure's rosy walks I'll tread,

La vive et naïre allegresse Still with the jocund Muses rhyrne,

[sceaux,

Ont toujours fui des grands, la pompe, et les tai. And haunt the green Idalian bow'rs,

Nes pour la liberté leurs troupes enchantresses Whilst wanton boys of Paphos' court

Preferent l'aimable paresse In myrtles hide my staff for sport,

Aux austeres devoirs guides de nos travaux.
And coif me, where I'm bald, with flow'rs.

Aussi la Fortune volage
Thus to each bappy habit true,
Preferring happiness to powr,

N'a jamais causé mes ennuis,

Soit qu'elle m'agaçe, ou qu'elle m' outrage. Will Aristippus e'en pursue

Je dormirai toutes les nuits Life's comforts to the latest hour,

En lui refusant mon hommage. Till age (the only malady

Mais notre etat nous fait loi, Which thou and med'cine cannot cure,

Il nous oblige, il nous engage Yet what all covet to endure)

A mesurer notre courage, This innocent voluptu'ry

Sur ce qu'exige notre emploi.
Shall, from the Laughs and Graces here,

Voltaire dans son hermitage,
With late and lenient change remove,
To regions of Elysian air,

Dans un pais dont l' heritage
Where shades of mortal pleasures rove,

Est son antique bonne foi,

Peut 's addoner en paix à la vertu du sage Destin'd, without alloy, to share

Dont Platon nous marque la loi ; Eternal joys of mutual love,

Pour moi menacé du naufrage,
Which transitory were above.

Je dois, en affrontant l'orage,
Penser, vivre, et mourir en roi.

A SON G. Dear Chloe what means this disdain,

Which blasts each endeavour to please? Tho' forty, I'm free from all pain,

Save love, I am free from disease. No Graces my mansion have fled,

No Muses have broken my lyre; The Loves frolic still round my bed,

And Laughter is cheer'd at my fire. To none have I ever been cold,

All beauties in vogue I'm among; I've appetite e'en for the old,

And spirit enough for the young. Believe me, sweet girl, 1 speak true,

Or else put ing love to the test;

THE SAME TRANSLATED.
VOLTAIRE, believe me, were I now
In private life's calm station plac'd,
Let Heav'n for nature's wants allow
With cold indiff'rence would I view
Departing Fortune's winged haste,
And laugh at her caprice like you.
Th’insipid farce of tedious state,
Inperial duty's real weight,
The faithless courtier's supple bow,
The fickle multitude's caress,
And the great vulgar's littieness,
By long experience well I know;
And, tho' a prince and poet born,
Vain blandishments of glory scorn.
For when the ruthless shears of fate
Have cut my life's precarious thread,
And rank'd me with th' unconscious deal,

What will't avail that I was great,

In vain her citron groves Italia boasts, Or that th' uncertain tongue of fame

Or Po the balsam of his weeping trecs; In mem'ry's temple chaunts my name?

In vain Arabia's aromatic coasts One blissful moment whilst we live

Perfume the pinions of the passing breeze. Weighs more than ages of renown; What then do potentates receive

No wholesome scents impregn the western gale, Of good, peculiarly their own?

But noxious steuch exhalid by scorching heat, Sweet ease and unaffected joy,

Where gasping

the pois'nous air iobale Domestic peace, and sportive pleasure,

That once diffus'd a medicinal sweet. The regal throne and palace fly,

Me, abject me, with pale disease oppressid, And, born for liberty, prefer

Heal with the balm of thy prolific breath ; Soft silent scenes of lovely leisure,

Rekindle life within my clay-cold breast, (death. To, what we monarchs buy so dear,

And shield my youtb from canker-worms of The thorny pomp of scepter'd care. My pain or bliss shall ne'er depend

Then on the verdant turf, thy fav’rite shrine, On fickle Fortune's casual light,

Restor'd to thee a votary I'll come, For, whether she's my foe or friend,

Grateful to offer to thy pow'r divine In calm repose I'll pass the night;

Each herb that grows round Æsculapius' tomb. And ne'er by watchful homage own I court her smile, or fear her frown. But from our stations we derive Unerring precepts how to live,

A SONG. And certain deeds each rank calls forth,

The nymph that I lov'd was as cheerful as day, By which is measur'd human worth.

And as sweet as the blossoming hawthorn in Var; Voltaire, within his private cell

Her temper was smooth as the down on the dore, In realms where ancient honesty

And her face was as fair as the mother's of lore. Is patrimonial property, And sacred freedom loves to dwell,

Tho' mild as the pleasantest zephyr that sheds, May give up all his peaceful mind,

And receives gentle odours from violet beds, Guided by Plato's deathless page,

Yet warın in affection as Phoebus at noon, (Mwn. In siient solitude resign'd

And as chaste as the silver-white beams of the To the mild virtues of a sage; But I, 'gainst whom wild whirlwinds wage

Her mind was unsullied as new-fallen snow, Fierce war with wreck-denouncing wing,

Yet as lively as tints of young Iris's bow, Must be, to face the tempest's rage,

As firm as the rock, and as calm as the flool, In thought, in lite, in death, a king,

Where the peace-loving halcyon deposits her

brood.

A HYMN TO HEALTH,

The sweets that each virtue or grace had in stor,
She culi'd as the bee would the bloom of cach

Aow'r;
Which treasur'd for me, o ! how happy was I,
For tho'her's to collect, it was mine to enjoy.

WRITTEN IN SICKNESS.

Sweet as the fragrant breath of genial May,

Come, fair Hygeia, goddess heav'nly born, More lovely than the Sun's returning ray,

To northeru regions, at the half year's morn. Where shall I seek thee? in the wholesome grot,

Where Temperance her scanty meal enjoys? Or Peace, contented with her humble lot,

Beneath her thatch th' inclement blast defies? Sivept from each Aow'r that sips the morning dew,

Thy wing besprinkles all the scenes around; Where e'er thou fly'st the blossoms blush anew,

And purple vi'lets paint the hallow'd ground. Thy presence renovated nature shows,

By thee each shrub with varied hue is dy'd, Each tulip with redoubled lustre glows,

And all creation smiles with flow'ry pride. But in thy absence joy is felt no more,

The landscape wither'd e'en in spring appears, The morn low'rs om'nous o'er the dusky shore,

And evening suns set half extinct in tears. Ruthless Disease ascends, when thou art gone

From the dark regions of th' abyss below, With Pestilence, the guardian of her throne,

Breathing contagion from the realms of woe.

THE GENIUS OF BRITAIN.
AN IAMBIC ODE. ADDRESSED TO THE RIGHT

HONOURABLE WILLIAM PITT.
Ατοπον γαρ ήν την μεν των απάντων σωτηρίαν τε το

επιτρέπειν, υπέρ και δε αγωνιάλαι μηδέν αυτοι, υτά;
κειν κατά την χώραν σπαδης αξιον. .

Diodor. Sicul. Histor. Lib. 1.

Written in the year 1756.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE WILLIAM

PITT.

O thou, ordain'd at length by pitying fate
To save from ruin a declining state;
Adorn'd with all the scientific store -
Which bloom'd on Roman or Athepian sbore;
At whose command our passions fall or rise,
Breathe anger's inenaces, or pity's sighs,
Whose breast (O never let the fame expire!)
Glows ardent with the patriot's sacred tire;
Attend the bard, who scorns the venal lays,
Which servile flatt’ry spurious greatness pays;
Whose British spirit emulating thine,
Could ue'er burn incence at corruption's shrine;

Who far from courts maintains superior state,

“ Tho' Rome's fell star malignant shone, And thinks that to be free is to be great;

When great Eliza rul'd this state, Careless of pride's imperial smile or frown,

On English hearts she plac'd her throne, A friend to all mankind, but slave to none;

And in their happiness her fate, Above temptation, and unaw'd by pow'r,

While blacker than the tempests of the north, Pleas'd with his present lot, nor wishes more, The papal tyrant sent his curses forth, Save that kind Heaven would one bless'd boon bestow,

“Lo! where my Thames's waters glide Which monarchs cannot grant, or courtiers know,

At great Augusta's regal feet, From each low view of sel6sh faction free,

Bearing on each returning tide

Prom distant realms a golden fleet, To think, to speak, to live, O Pitt, like thee.

Which homeward wafts the fruits of ev'ry zone,

And makes the wealth of all the world your own. THE GENIUS (OF BRITAIN.

“ Shall on his silver waves be borne

Of armed slaves a venal crew ? As late o'er Britain's chalky coasts

Lo! the old god denotes his scorn, The Genius of the island flew,

And shudders at tb' unusual view, The venal swarm of foreign hosts'

Down to his deepest cave retires to mourn,
Inglorious basking in his view,

And tears indignant bathe his crystal urn.
Deep in his breast he felt the new disgrace,
And honest blushes warın’d his godlike face.

“O! how can vassals born to bear Quick flash'd the lightning of his spear

The galling weight of slav'ry's chain, Which blasted France on Cressy's field,

A patriot's noble ardour share, He wheel'd the blazing sword in air,

Or freedom's sacred cause maintain?

Britons exert your own unconquer'd might,
And on his shoulders spread the shield,

A freeman best defends a freeman's right.
As when oer Agincourt's blood-purpled lands,
Pale Terrour stalk'd thro' all the Gallic bands. “ Look back on every deathless deed
Soon as he cast his eyes below,

For which your sires recorded stand;
Deep heav'd the sympathetic sigh,

To battle let your nobles lead Suiden the tears of anguish flow,

The sons of toil, a hardy band; For sore he felt th' indignity;

The sword on each rough peasant's thigh be worn, Discordant passions shook his heavenly frame,

And war's green wreaths the shepherd's front adorn. Now horrour's damp, now indignation's flame,

“ But see, upon his utmost shores " Ah! what avails,” he cry'd, “ the blood

America's sad genius lies, Shed by each patriot band of yore,

Each wasted province he deplores, When Freedom's unpaid legions stood

And casts on me his languid eyes, Prutectors of this sea-girt shore,

Bless'd with Heav'n's fav'rite ordinance I fly, When ancient wisdom deem'd each British sword To raise th’ oppress'd, and humble tyranny." From hostile pow'r could guard its valiant lord. “What tho' the Danish raven spread

This said, the vision westward fled, Awhile his wings o'er English ground,

His wrinkled brow denouncing war; The bird of prey funereal fed

The way fire-mantled Vengeance led, When Alfred call'd his peers around,

And Justice drove his airy car; Whose fleets triumphant riding on the flood,

Behind firm-footed Peace her olive bore, Deep stain'd each chalky ciff with Denmark's

And Plenty's horn pour'd blessings on the shore. blood. * Alfred on natives could depend, And scurn'd a foreign force t' employ,

THEAGENES TO SYLVIA.
He thought, who dar'd not to defend
Were never worthy to enjoy ;

First printed in Dodsley's Museum.
The realin's and monarch'sint'rest deem'd but one,

ARGUMENT. And arı'd his subjects to maintain their own. Theagenes, son of Hieron, the priest of Pan, hav* What tho' weak Jobn's divided reign

ing fallen in love, at an annual festival in the The Gallic legions tempted o'er,

terople of that god, with Sylvia, a votress to When Henry's barons join'd again,

Diana, tinds means to seduce her. After some These feather'd warriors left the shore;

time, the nymph being struck with horrour at Learn, Britops, hence, you want no foreign friends, her guilt, in the utmost despair and contrition The lion's safety on himself depends.

makes a vow that she would endeavour to expia

ate her offence by a life of religious solitude: “Reflect on Edward's glorious name;

upon wbich occasion Theagenes writes the folOn my fifth Henry's martial deeds;

lowing epistle. Think on those peers of deathless fame N.B. Several bints in the following epistle were

Who met their king on Thames's meads, taken from the celebrated lord Gray's LoveWhen sov'reign might acknowledg'd reason's plea, letters. That Heav'n created man for liberty.

Six thousand Hessians imported to protect | Say, dearest object of my broken heart, this isiand !!!!

Must we for e'er, like soul and body, part?

Must I be doom'd whole ages to deplore, But me, alas !" far other cares employ,,
And think of transports I must taste no more? To reap the harvest of unlawful joy;
O dreadful thought! whose endless view contains Peusive 1 wander'd on the lonely shore,
Grief foll’wing grief, and pains succeediog pains! Where breaking billows at a distance roar;
Each joy is blasted, and each comfort filed! Tl:e sighs that issued from my lab'ring breast,
Ye dreary sisters, cut the fatal thread!

Woke Echo from her inmost cave of rest;
Ah! whither fly'st thou? to some dreary plain, On thee I thought, on thee I called alone,
Where frozen Chastity and Horrour reign; The soften'd rocks re-echo'd to my moan,
And Melancholy, daughter of Despair,

The sympathizing streams ran mournful by, With pale Contrition, and with gloomy Care; And tun'd their plaintive bubblings to my cry. To spend thy youth in superstitious fears,

Thrice had the Moon her silver mantle spreart, In needless penance, penitence, and tears ! As oft I wanderd from my sleepless bed; Let those dwell there whose bosoms guilt reprove, As oft I travers'd o'er the neighb'ring plain, But thou hast none, if 'tis no sin to love.

As oft I sought thee, but I sought in vain; For what is deem'd a half extorted vox

At last arriv'd the long-expected hour, Too dull for lovers, and forgotten now?

I found thee musing in a lonely bow'r; Religious cheat! impos d by fear on man, The time and place invited to impart And priests continue what the fool began,

The faithful language of my love-sick heart; O stay, for absence never can destroy,

With agonizing sighs I gain'd belief, No distance quell my visionary joy;

And each pathetic circumstance of grief; In vain you still endeavour to remove

A war unequal in thy breast ensud, The beauteous cause of my unhappy love: Stern duty fail'd, and gentle pity woo'd, Imagination foll'wing close behind,

Pity admitted, all disdain remov'd, Presents afresh past pleasures to my mind; And soon what mercy spard, the woman lov'd. The rebel mind forbidden passion knows,

A crimson blush o'er all thy face was spread, With welcome fames the guilty bosom glows, Then lilies pale, and all the roses fed; Again th' ecstatic soul dissolves away,

Each look more faithful, to thy heart reveal'd In brightest visions of eternal day;

The fatal secret that thy tongue conceal'd.
There sees thy fatal form, or seems to see, The happy omen of success 1 view'd,
For Hearin it loses, when it loses thee.

Embrac'd th' advantage, and th' attack pursu'd. Worn by iny sorrows, see this wretched frame; Honour's first guard of wakeful scruples o'er, Innocent object of thy fatal flame!

Love found a breach, and fears contend no more; See! round uny lips a deadly paleness spread; Each other's arms each other's body prest, Where roses bloom'd, the canker grief has fed; We spoke much pleasure, and we felt the rest; From my cold cheeks the with’ring lily flies, The rest, which only can the faithful feel; And light extinguish'd leaves my weeping eyes. The rest, which none had ever pow's to tell;

O count again the pleasures we have pror'd, The rest, which feels unutterably sweet, Promotiny mutual what the other lov'd;

In the first intercourse when lovers meet; Recall in thought each anı'rous moment gone, T'he modest diffidence, and bold desires, Tbink each soft circumstance, and still think on; Soft thrilling cold, and quick-returning fires, But chief that day destructive to my rest, The glowing blushes, and the joyful tears, For ever fatal, yet for ever blest,

The flatt'ring wishes, and th' alarming fears, When I, assisting, at the sacred shrine,

The gentle breathings, and the mutual sighs, My aged father in the rights divine,

And all the silent eloquence of eyes, Bebeld thee first, celestial as thou art,

Pleas'd with the first delight, my raptures rove And felt thy image sink into my heart;

To seize at once the last recess of love; Ere'l cond think I found myself undone, Till flying swiftly on from joy to joy, For but to see thee and to love are one.

I sunk at last in heav'nly ecstasy. No more the pomp aods olemn splendour pleas'd, The secret progress thus we first began, Devotion's fames within my bosom ceas'd; Then soon round pleasure's flow'ry circle ran; Thy fairer form expell’d the Deity,

How oft we met, dull reason frown'd in vain, And all the mighty space was filled with thee. How oft we parted but to meet again!

I feard 'twas errour, and to Wisdom fled O blessed moments, and divinest dreams! To call her rigid doctrine to my aid:

Enchanting transports, and celestial gleams! But such the passion, Wisdom must approve, Fly quick, my fancy, bring 'em back to view, She saw the object, and she bade ine love. In retrospection let me love anew; The pleasing paths of Venus I retrod,

And once in thought enjoy the bliss again, No more a mortal, but an am'rous god.

Even cheaply purchas'd by an age of pain. O pow'ıful weakness of th’ ecstatic mind!

() sacred queen of silent night, advance, Celestial leams to human failings join'd!

And cast thy sable mantle o'er th' expanse, Love waits our thoughts, when fancy spreads her Come, gentle Sleep, and close iny wearied eyes, sails,

Give to my arms what hateful day denies, To lands of Paradise with gentle gales,

For vain, alas! those dulcet wishes roll, Love makes the sister soul for ever even;

When sov'reign reason awes the wakeful soul; Luve can do all, for love itself is Heav'n.

Sleep sets it free to all its native fires, The tedious bus’ness of the day was done; And gives a grateful loose to soft desires. Our ofl'rings ended with the parting Sun;

At that calm

hour, when Peace her requium sings, The night advancd, the shepherds homeward And pleasing slumbers spread their airy wings;

Thy beauteous image comes before my sight: To the sweet comforts of the nuptial bed; (My theme by day, my constant dream by night;}

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Fancy not fairer paints those Heav'n-born maids,
In fair Elysiuin under myrtle shades,

THE POWER OF HARMONY:
Who ever blooming, ever young appear,

A POEM, IN TWO BOOKS.
To drive from happy shades intruding fear.

THE DESIGN.
My ravish'd thoughts on plumes angelic soar,
And feel within a Heav'n, or somewhat more.

It is observable, that whatever is true, just, and
Straight on thy oft repeated name I call,

harmonious, whether in nature or morals, gives Then wake, and sigh, and find it vanishi'd all.

an instantaneous pleasure to the mind, excluThus erst when Orpheus from the Stygian shore

sive of reflection. For the great Creator of all Had won his youthful oride by music's pow'r,

things, infinitely wise and good, ordained a perImpatient to behold her, ere he past

petual agreement between the faculties of moral The pool Cocytus, and th' infernal waste,

perception, the powers of fancy, and the organs Heedless he cast forbidden looks behind;

of bodily sensation, when they are free and unThe fleeting shadow vanish'd like the wind,

distempered. From hence is deducible the And all his joys wing'd their eternal flight

most comfortable, as well as the most true phiWith her, like frighted doves, to realms of night.

losophy that ever adorned the world; namely Again I close my sleep-deluded eyes,

a constant adıniration of the beauty of the creAround my soul black swarins of demons rise,

ation, terminating in the adoration of the First Pale spectres grin, and angry furies bowl,

Cause, which naturally leads mankind cheerfully Quick light'nings flash, and horrid thunders roll;

to co-operate with his grand design for the proAgain the trighted wand'rer hastes away

motion of universal happiness. Back to the living horrours of the day,

From hence our author was led to draw that anaThere counts the visionary mis’ry o’er,

logy between natural and moral beauty: since And realizes what was dreamt before.

the same faculties, which render us susceptible Ye dreary pow'rs, that hover o'er the plains

of pleasure from the perfection of the creation, Where sorrows reign, and everlasting pains,

and the excellence of the arts, afford us delight Bear me to places suited to my woe,

in the contemplation of dignity and justice in Where noxious herbs and dea:lly poisons grow,

characters and manners. For what is virtue, Whilst wintry winds howl fiercely round my

but a just regulation of our affections and apbead,

petites, to make them correspond to the peace The fint my pillow, sharpen'd rocks my bed;

and welfare of society? so that good and beauty And ghosts of wretches once who dy'd for love,

are inseparable. Round their unburied bodies nightly rove,

From this true relish of the soul, this harmonious Which hang half moulder'd on some blasted

association of ideas, the ancient philosophers, tree,

and their disciples among the moderns, have And by their sad example counsel me.

enlivened their imaginations and writings in What now avail the joyous moments past,

this amicable intercourse of adding moral epiOr what will all the wretched few that last?

thets to natural objects, and illustrating their In them I dying will our loves proclain,

observations upon the conduct of life, by metaWith fault'ring accents call upon thy name,

phors drawn from the external scenes of the And whilst I bless thee with my parting breath,

world. So we know, that by a beautiful action, Enjoy the raptures of my life in death.

or consonant behaviour, is meant the generous Then spare thy curses, and forget th' offence resignation of private advantage by some indtof him who robb'd thee of thy innocence;

vidual, to submit and adapt bis single being to Or if not quite forget, forgive at least,

the whole community, or some part of it. And And sooth the dying penitent to rest.

in like manner, when we read of a solemn grove, Oh! may to thee the pitying gods bestow

where horrour and melancholy reign, we enterEternal peace, and happiness below;

tain an idea of a place that creates such thoughts Yet when thy mortal frame, as once it must,

in the mind, by reason of its solitary situation, Returns and mingles with its native dust;

want of light, or any other circumstances analoMay the same urn our mingled ashes have,

gous to those dispositions, so termed, in human And find a lasting union in the grave!

If you ere jong iny bleeding corse should see This then is the design of the poem, to show that Beneath the covert of yon conscious tree,

a constant attention to what is perfect and beauThis last request I make for all my fears,

tiful in nature will by degrees harmonize the For all my sieepless minutes spent in tears,

soul to a responsive regularity and sympathetic Por all those struggles of my parting breath,

order. And all the agonies in one, my death;

From what has been premised, it would be need. Think on the raptures which we ravish'd there, less to explain the comprehensive meaning of Then breathe a sigh, and drop th' indebted tear. the word barmony. For an explanation or a This empty tribute's to the mem'ry due,

proof of the relation of the imitative arts to Of one, who liv'd and dy'd in love of you.

moral philosophy, the reader is referred to the My ghost, thus sooth'd, shall seek the Stygian dialogues of Plato, and the other philosophers of shore,

the academic school; to lorl Saftesbury and Mix with the happy crowd, and grieve no more, Hutcheson, their great disciples among the But eager wait till thon at last art giv'n,

moderns. To raise each blessing of th' Elysian leavin, Where uncontrol'd in ainorous sports we'll

THE ARGUMENT play. And love a whole eternity away.

The subject proposed. Invocation to Venus alle

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nature.

TO THE FIRST BOOK.

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