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Seems half emerging from his olive bow'r Upraise this wond'rous fabric? Say, was man
To gather round him all th' Athenian sons Furth from the dark abyss of Chaos call'd
Of Wisdom.-Hither throng, ye studious youth; In vain to breathe celestial air, in vain
Here thro' the mental eye enamour'd view To view the bloom of Beauty, not to feel
The charms of Moral Beauty, to the soul Th'effect divine soft thrilling thro' his soul,
More grateful, than when Titan's golden beam And wak’ning ev'ry pow'r which sleeps within
First dawns upon the new-recover'd sight To gaze amazement? Did the Lord of all
Of one long fated to the dreary gloom

Attune our finer organs to the charms
Of darkness. How, to undistemper'd thought, Of things external, only to ensnare
Does Virtue in mild majesty appear

This image of himself? To the tuneful breast Delightful, when the sympathetic heart

Of virtuous Wisdom, such discordant thoughts Feels for another's woes! Was any scene

Are far excluded; other themes employ
So beauteous, in the wide-extended pomp The studious sage's hours; his kindred soul
And golden splendour of the Persian camp, Triumphs on Contemplation's eagle wings
When all the riches of the east were spread Thro' yon ethereal plains, where distant worlds
Beneath the tyrant's feet; did aught appear Roll thro' the vast abyss; there unconfin'd
So lovely to and so great, as when the call

Pursues the fiery tract where comets glow;
Of cursd ambition ceas'd in Xerxes' breast, Or in the sable bosom of the night,
And from the social eye Compassion pour'd Sweeps headlong to o'ertake the rapid fight
The tender flood of heart-ernobling tears? Of exhalations, from ideal stars

Thus the chief scenes of Nature view'd apart, Shot wildly down; nor 'sdains he to behold
Which with a just similitude afiect

In Nature's humbler walks the sweet recess, Th' attentive mind, now thro' the tuneful whole Where Beauty on the splendid rose exults Let the swift wing of Fancy bear us on

As conscious of her form, or mildly veils
Beyond the ken of knowledge, where, unseen Her maiden blushes in the chaster pink,
To us inhabitants of this small spot,

Or on the margin of the crystal brook
Ten thousand worlds in regions unconfind, In soft Narcissus blows. For him the choir
Progressive and obedient to the source

Of feather'd songsters breathe their vernal airs; Of light eternal, gild the vast expanse:

For him the stillness of th’autumnal grove
Or, should we stop th’aspiring flight to view, lu pleasing sadness reigns; for him the sheaf
led by the hand of Science and of Truth,

Of Ceres spreads its yellow pride; the horn
Where in the midst the glorious Sun expands Of ripe Pomona pours its off'rings forth;
His flame, and with perennial beams supplies Winter presents his free domestic bowi
The distant planets as they roll around;

Of social joy; and Spring's Elysian bloom,
What Harmony divine for ever reigns!

Whilst Plora wantons in her Zephyr's arms, How these in tuneful order " thro' the void Invites the Graces forth to join the Hours Their diff'rent stations keep, their pow'rs distinct In festive dance. His tasteful mind enjoys Observe, aud in each other's friendly sphere Alike the complicated charms, which glow Their kindest influence blend, till all unite Thro’the wide landscape, where enamell'd meads, To form the plan of the all-ruling Mind,

Unfruitfulrocks,brown woods,and glittring streams, And, thro' the whole, celestial bliss diffuse ! The daisy-laughing lawns, the verdant plains,

Hence let the worse than atheist, the fond fool And hanging mountains, strike at once the sight Who falsely dotes in superstition's gloom, With varied pleasure; as th' abstracted ray, And blindfold led by easy Faith, denies

Which soft effuses from Eudocia's eye The guide of Reason, obstinately bent

The opening dawn of love. He looks thro' all To seek the cause of universal good,

The plan of Nature with congenial love, And source of beauty in the demon's cave, Where the great social link of mutual aid And, shudd'ring, fancies he at distance bears Through ev'ry being twines, where all conspire The howls of ghosts, created to endure

To form one system of eternal good, Eternal torments. Let this impious wretch Of harmony and bliss, in forms distinct, Look round this fair creation, where, impellid Of natures various, as th'effulgent Sun, By that great Author, every atom tends

Which pours abroad the mighty flood of day, To Universal Harmony; where Joy,

To the pale glow-worm in the midnight shade. As with a parent's fondness, to behold

From these sweet meditations on the charms Her own soft image in her child impress'd, Of things external; on the genuine forms Smiles on the beauteous offspring, and illumes Which blossom in creation; on the scene Responsive signs of pleasure; like the beams Where inimic Art with emulative hue Of Titan sporting on the lucid waves

Usurps the throne of Nature unreprov'd; Whence Venus rose of old: let him then say, Or the just concord of mellifluent sounds; If Nature meant this goodly frame to cheat The soul, and all the intellectual train Deluded mortals? Did an idiot's scheme Of fond desires, gay hopes, or threat'ning fears,

Through this habitual intercourse of sense 10 The superiority of moral beauty to natural is harmoniz'd within, till all is fair has been universally allowed by all authors both And perfect; till each moral pow'r perceives ancient and modern. And that sentence of Seneca's Its own resemblance, with fraternal joy, may be understood figuratively: Nullum orna- In ev'ry form complete, and smiling feels mentum principis fastigio dignius pulchriusque beauty and Good the same'. Thus the first man Est, quam illa corona ob cives servatos. Senec. de clem. lib. 1.

12 See Plato's Dialogues, Xenophon's Memora. 41 Vile sir Isaac Newton, Book III. p. 345. bilia, &c. whom the ingenious author of the Traité

AN ELEGY.

Fresh from creacion rising, in the flood

“ Taste not from fame's uncertain fountain A godlike image saw; with fixt amaze

The peace-destroying streams that ton, He gaz'd; th'attentive figure from below

Nor from ambition's daug'rous mountain Gaz'd with responsive wonder: did he smile ? Look down upon the world belov. The shad'wy features dimpled in the waves Not less delighted; till at length he found . The princely pine on hills exalted, From bis own form th' external object flow'd, Whose lofty branches cleave the sky, And mov'd to his its correspondent charms. By winds, long brav'd, at last assaulted,

Is headlong whirld in dust to lie; “Whilst the mild rose more safely growing

Low in its unaspiring vale,

Amidst retirement's shelter blowing
A FATHER'S ADVICE TO HIS SON: Exchanges sweets with ev'ry gale.

«Wish not for beauty's darling features
IN IMITATION OF THE OLD SONG TO

Moulded by nature's fondling pow'r, WINIFREDA. WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1758.

For fairest forms 'mong human creatures aspice vultus

Shine but the pageants of an hour. Ecce meos: utinamque oculos in pectore posses “I saw, the pride of all the meadow, Inserere, et patrias intus dependere curas.

Ovid Metam.

At noon, a gay narcissus blow

Upon a river's bank, whose shadow Deep in a grove by cypress shaded,

Bloom'd in the silver waves below; Where mid-day sun had seldom shone,

“By noon-tide's heat its youth was wasted, Or noise the solemn scene invaded,

The waters, as they passid, complain'd, Save some amicted Muse's moan,

At eve its glories all were blasted,
A swain t'wards full-ag'd manhood wending And not one former tint remain'da
Sat sorrowing at the close of day,

“Nor let vain wit's deceitful glory At whose fond side a boy attending

Lead you from wisdom's path astray; Lisp'd half his father's cares away.

What genius lives renown'd in story The father's eyes no object wrested,

To happiness who found the way? But the smiling pra ler hung,

“In yonder mead behold that vapour Till, what his throbbing heart suggested,

Whose vivid beams illusive play, These accents trembled from his tongue.

Far off it seems a friendly taper “ My youth's first hope, my manhood's treasure, To guide the traveller on his way; My prattling innocent attend,

“But should some hapless wretch pursuing Nor fear rebuke or sour displeasure,

Tread where the treach'rous meteors glow, A father's loveliest name is, friend.

He'd fivd, too late his rashness rueing, " Some truths, from long experience flowing, That fatal quicksands lurk below. Worth more than royal grants receive,

“ In life such bubbles nought admiring For truths are wealth of Heav'n's bestowing,

Gilt with false light and fill'd with air, Which kings have seldom power to give.

Do you, from pageant crowds retiring, « Since from an ancient race descended

To peace in virtue's cot repair; You boast an unattainted blood,

“ There seek the never-wasted treasure, By yours be their fair fame attended,

Which mutual love and friendship give, And claiin by birth-right to be good.

Domestic comfort, spotless pleasure, " In love for ev'ry fellow creature

And bless'd and blessing you will live, Superior rise above the crowd,

“ If Heav'n with children crowns your dwelling, What most ennobles human nature

As mine its bounty does with you, Was ne'er the portion of the proud.

In fondness fatherly excelling “ Be thine the gen'rous heart that borrows

Th’example you have felt pursue." From others' joys a friendly glow,

lle paus'd—for tenderly caressing And for each hapless neighbour's sorrows

The darling of his wourided heart, Throbs with a sympathetic woe.

Looks had means only of expressing " This is the temper most endearing;

Thoughts language' never could impart. Tho' wide proud pomp her banners spreads,

Now night her mournful mantle spreading A heav'nlier pow'r good-nature bearing

Had rob’d with black th'horizon round, Each heart in willing thraldom leads.

And dank dews from her tresses shedding

With genial moisture bath'd the ground; du Beau follows. Si la felicité des hommes est necessairement liée avec la pratique de la vertu, When back to city follies flying il faut reconnoitre que la vertue est essentielle- 'Midst custom's slaves he liv'd resign'd, ment belle, puis que le beau consiste dans le His face, array'd in smiles, denying raport des choses avec notre destination,

The true complexion of his mind;

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For seriously around surveying

“ The fiery glance of th' intellectual eye,
Each character, in youth and age,

Piercing all objects of creation's store,
Of fools betray'd, and knaves betraying,

Which on this world's extended surface lie;
That play'd upon this human stage,

And plastic thought that still created more." (Peaceful himself and undesigning)

“O grant," with eager rapture I reply'd, He loath'd the scenes of guile and strife,

“ Grant me, great goddess of the changeful eye, And felt each secret wish inclining

To view each being in poetic pride,
To leave this fretful farce of life.

To whom thy son gave immortality.”
Yet to whate'er above was fated

Sweet Pancy smild, and wav'd her mystic rod,
Obediently he bow'd his soul,

When straight these visions felt her pow'rful arm,
For, what all-bounteous Hear'n created,

And one by one succeeded at her nod,
He thought Heav'n only should control.

As vassal sprites obey the wizard's charm.
First a celestial form (of azure hue

Whose mantle, bound with brede etherial, Nord To each soft breeze its balmy breath that drew)

Swift down the sun-beams of the noon-tide rode,
THE TOMB OF SHAKESPEAR. Obedient to the necromantic sway

Of an old sage to solitude resign'd,
A VISION

With fenny vapours he obscur'd the day,

Lanch'd the long lightning, and let loose the wind What time the jocund rosy-bosom'd Hours He whirld the tempest thro' the howling air,

Led forth the train of Phæbus and the Spring, Rattled the dreadful thunderclap on high, And Zephyr mild profusely scatter flowers And rais'd a roaring elemental war

On Earth's green mantle from his musky wing, Betwixt the sea-green waves and azure sky. The Morn unbarr'd th'ambrosial gates of light, Then like Heav'n's mild embassador of love

Westward the raven pinion'd Darkness flew, To man repentant, bade the tumult cease, The landscape smil'd in vernal beauty bright, Smooth'd the blue bosom of the realms above,

And to their graves the sullen ghosts withdrew: And hush'd the rebel elements to peace. The nightingale no longer swell'd her throat Unlike to this in spirit or in mien

With love-lorn plainings tremulous and slow, Another form : succeeded to my vier; And on the wings of Silence ceas'd to float

A two-legg'd brute which Natare made in spleen, The gurgling notes of her melodious woe; Or from the loathing womb unfinish'd drev. The god of sleep mysterious visions led

Scarce cou'd he syllable the curse he thought, In gay procession 'fore the mental eye,

Prone were his eyes to earth, his mind to evil, And my free'd soul awhile her mansion fied, A carnal fiend to imperfection wrought, To try her plumes for immortality.

The mongrel offspring of a witch and devil. Thro' fields of air, methought I took my flight, Next bloom'd, upon an ancient forest's bound,

Thro' ev'ry clime o'er ev'ry region pass'd; The flow'ry margin 3 of a silent stream, No paradise or ruin 'scap'd my sight,

O'er-arch'd by oaks with ivy mantled roumi, Hesperian garden, or Cimmerian waste.

And gilt by silver Cynthia's maiden beam. On Avon's banks I lit, whose streams appear On the green carpet of th’unbended grass,

Towind with eddies fond roundShakespear's tomb, A dapper train of female fairies play'd, The year's first feath'ry songsters warble near, And ey'd their gainbols in the watry glass,

And vi'lets breathe, and earliest roses bloom. That smoothly stole along the shad’wy glade. Here Fancy sat, (her dewy fingers cold

Thro' these the queen Titania pass'd ador'd, Decking with flow'rets fresh th’unsullied sod,) Mounted aloft in her imperial car, And bath'd with tears the sad sepulcbral mould, Journeying to see great Oberon her lord

Her fav’rite offspring's long and last abode. Wage the mock battles of a sportive war. "Ah! what avails,” she cry'd, “ a poet's name? Arm'd cap-a-pee forth march'd the fairy king,

Ah! what avails th’immortalizing breath A stouter warrior never took the field, To snatch from dumb oblivion others' fame? His threat'ning lance a hornet's horrid sting,

My darling child here lies a prey to death! The sharded beetle's scale his sable shield. « Let gentle Otway, white-rob'd Pity's priest, Around their chief the elfin host appeard,

From grief domestic teach the tears to flow, Each little helmet sparkling like a star, Or Southern captivate th' impassion'd breast And their sharp spears a pierceless phalaux rear'd,

With heart-felt sighs and sympathy of woe. A grove of thistles, glittering in the air. " For not to these his genius was confin'd,

1 Ariel in the Tempest. Nature and I each tuneful pow'r had given, a Caliban in the Tempest. Poetic transports of the madding mind,

3 Fairy-land from the Midsummer-night's And the wing'd words that waft the soulto Heaven. ( Dream,

The scene then chang'd, from this romantic land, “ Teach me, what all believe, but few possess,

To a bleak waste by bound'ry uncontin'd, That life's best science is ourselves to know, Where three swart sisters 4 of the weird band The first of human blessings is to bless,

Were muttring curses to the troublous win.l. And happiest he who feels another's woe. Pale Want had wither'd every furrow'd face, “Thus cheaply wise, and innocently great,

Bow'd was each carcase with the weight of years, While Time's smooth sand shall regularly pass, And each sunk eye-ball from its holow case Each destin'd atom's quiet course I'll wait, Distillid cold rheum's involuntary tears.

Nor rashly shake, nor wish to stop the glass. Hors'd on three staves they posted to the bourn “ And when in death my peaceful ashes lie,

Of a drear island, where the pendent brow If e'er some tongue congenial speaks my name, Of a rough rock, shagg'd horribly with thorn, Friendship shall never blush to breathe a sigh,

Frown'don theboist'rous waves which rag'd below. And great ones envy such an honest fame, Deep in a gloomy grot remote from day,

Where smiling Comfort never show'd her face, Where light ne'er enter'd, save one rueful ray Discov'ring all the terrours of the place.

VER-VERT; OR, THE NUNNERY PARROT. They held damn'd myst'ries with infernal state,

A HEROIC POEM IN FOUR CANTOS,
Whilst ghastly goblins glided slowly by,
The screech-owl scream'd the dying call of fate,
And ravens croak'd their borrid augury.

INSCRIBED TO THE ABBESS OF D*****
No human footstep cheer'd the dread abode, Translated from the French of Monsieur Gresset.
Nor sign of living creature could be seen,

First printed in 1759.
Save where the reptile snake, or sullen toad,
The murky floor had soild with venom green.

CANTO I.
Sudden I heard the whirlwind's bollow sound,

O you, round whom, at Virtue's shrine, Each weird sister vanish'd into smoke.

The solitary Graces shine, Now a dire yell of spiritss underground

With native charms all hearts engage, Thro'troubled earth's wide yawning surface broke; And reign without religious rage; When lo! each injur'd apparition rose;

You, whose congenial soul by Heaven Aghast the murd'rer started from his bed;

A pleasing guide to Truth was given, Guilt'strembling breath his heart's red currentfroze,

Uniting, with the family And horrour's dew-drops bath'd his frantic head.

Of rigid duties, harmless Mirth,

Daughter of social Liberty, More had I seen-but now the god of day

Twin-born with Humour at a birth, O'er Earth's broad breast his flood of light had And every other power to please, spread,

Taste, Fancy, Elegance, and Ease; When Morpheus call’d his fickle train away,

O! since you bid your bard relate And on their wings each bright illusion filed,

A noble bird's disastrous fate

In notes of sympathetic woe, Yet still the dear enchantress of the brain

Be you my Muse, my soul inspire, My wakeful eyes with wishful wand'rings sought, And teach my numbers how to flow Whose magic will controls th' ideal train,

Like those which trembled from your lyre The ever-restless progeny of 'Thought.

In soft and sorrow-soothing sound,

Whilst listening Cupids wept around, “Sweet pow'r,” said I, “ for others gild the ray

When dear Sultana's' spirit fled, Of wealth, or honour's folly-feather'd crown,

In youthful vigour's vernal bloom, Or lead the madding multitude astray

To the dark mansions of the dead: To grasp at air-blown bubbles of renowo.

Then for my hero's hapless doom “ Me (humbler lot!) let blameless bliss engage,

Such tears might once again be shed. Free from the noble mob's ambitious strife,

One might, upon his virtues cross'd

By adverse Fortune's envious rage,
Free from the muck-worm miser's lucrous rage,
In calm Contentment's cottag'd vale of life.

And wanderings over many a coast,

Swell out the soporific page, If frailties there (for who from them is free?) And other Odysseys compose Thro' errour's maze my devious footsteps lead,

To lull the reader to repose: Let them be frailties of humanity,

One might the gods and devils raise And my heart plead the pardon of my head. Of superannuated lies,

Spin out the deeds of forty days " Let not my reason impiously require

To volumes of dull histories, What Hear’n has plac'd beyond its narrow span, And with a pompous tediousness But teach me to subdue each fierce desire,

Sublimely heavy moralize Which wars within this little empire, man.

Upon a bird, in epic dress,

Who as Æneas' self was great, 4 The witches in Macbeth. s Ghosts in Macbeth, Richard III. &c.

A lap-dog.

As famous too for godliness,

To India ow'd his parentage, And each way more unfortunate;

By an old missionary sent But folios are, in verse, excess,

To this said convent for his good, Which the sweet Muses most abhor,

He yet was young and innocent, For they are sportive bees of spring,

And nothing worldly understood. Who dwell not long on any bower,

Beauteous he was, and debonnair, But, lightly wandering on the wing,

Light, spruce, inconstant, gay, and free, Collect the bloom from flower to flower,

And unreserv'd, as youngsters are, And, when one fragrant blossom 's dry,

Ere age brings on hypocrisy. To other sweets unrified Ay.

In short, a bird, from prattling merity This truth my observation drew

Worthy a convent to inherit. From faultless Nature and from you;

The tender cares I need not tell And may these lines, I copy, prove

Of all the sisterhood devout, I'm govern'd by the laws I love!

Nothing, 'tis said, each lov'd so well, Should I, too faithfully pourtraying

Leave but her ghostly father out, Some cloyster'd characters, reveal

Nay in some hearts, not void of grace, The convent arts themselves, arraying

One plain historian makes no doubt In pomp, with hieroglyphic skill,

The parrot of the priest took place. Each weighty business of the great,

He shard in this serene abode Each serious nothing's mystic face,

Whate'er was lor'd by the profession; Each trifle swell’d with holy state;

On him such dainties were bestow'd Your native humour, whilst I trace

As nuns prepare against confession, The comic semblance, will forbear

And for the sacred entrails hoard To blame the strokes you cannot fear;

Of holy fathers in the Lord. You may despise, from folly free,

Sole licens'd male to be belov'd, What dulness is oblig'd to wear,

Ver-Vert was bless'd without control, The formal mask of gravity.

Caressing and caress'd he rov'd Illusion's meteors never shine

Of all the monastery the soul, To lead astray such souls as thine.

Except some antiquated dames, All holy arts Heaven values less

Whose hearts to pleasure callous grown, Than amiable cheerfulness.

Remark'd with jealous eyes the flames Should Virtue her own image show

Of bosoms younger than their own. To ravish'd mortals here below,

At years of reason not arriv'd With features fierce she'd not appear

A life of privilege he liv'd, Nor Superstition's holy leer,

He said and did whate'er he wou'd, But, like the Graces, or like you,

And what he said or did was good. She'd come to claim her altar's due.

He'd peck the nuns in wanton play In many an author of renown

To wile their plain-work hours away; I've read this curious observation,

No party ever was approv'd That, by much wandering up and down,

Without his favourite company; Men catch the faults of every nation,

In him they found what females lov'd, And lose the virtues of their own.

That life of bliss variety: 'Tis better, e'en where scanty fare is,

He'd strut a beau in sportive rings Our homely hearths and honours watching, Uttering pert sentences by rote, Under protection of our Lares,

Mimic the butterfly's light wings A calm domestic life to wed,

Or nightingale's complaining note; Than run about infection catching

He'd laugh, sing, whistle, joke, and leer, Wherever chance and errour tread:

And frolic, but discreetly so, The youth too soon who goes abroad

With a prudential cautious fear, Will half a foreigner become,

As nuns probationary do. And bring his wondering friends a load

Question'd at once by many a tongue Of strange exotic vices home.

Incessantly inquisitive, This truth the hero of my tale

He could discordant sounds among, Exemplifies in tarnish'd glory;

To each a proper answer give; Should sceptic wits the truth assail,

This power from Cæsar's nothing varies, I call for witness to my story

Who did at once great plans conceive Each cloister'd echo now that dwells

And dictate to four secretaries. In Nevers' consecrated cells.

If chronicles may be believ'd, At Nevers, but few years ago,

So lov'd the pampart gallant liv'd, Among the nuns o'th' Visitation,

That with the nuns he always din'd There dwelt a parrot, though a beau,

On rarities of every kind; For sense of wondrous reputation;

Then hoards, occasionally varied, Whose virtues, and genteel address,

Of biscuits, sweet-meats, nuts, and fruit, Whose figure, and whose noble soul,

Each sister in her pocket carried, Would have secur'd him from distress

Sabordinately to recruit, Could wit and beauty fate control.

At leisure times, when not at table, Ver-Vert (for so the nuns agreed

His stomach indefatigable. To call this noble personage)

The little Cares, with tender faces, The hopes of an illustrious breed,

And fond Attentions, as they say, VOL. XV.

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