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Above are two beautiful figures of Love and Pity entwined in each other's arms.

The

whole was executed by the ingenious Flaxman, at that time lately returned from Rome; and if any thing can equal the expressive sweetness of the sculpture, it is the following most excellent epitaph, written by Mr. Hayley.

Ye who the merits of the dead revere,

Who hold misfortune's sacred genius dear,
Regard this tomb, where Collins, hapless name,
Solicits kindness with a double claim.

Tho' Nature gave him, and tho' Science taught
The fire of Fancy, and the reach of thought,
Severely doom'd to Penury's extreme,

He pass'd in madd'ning pain life's fev'rish dream,
While rays of genius only serv'd to shew
The thick'ning horror, and exalt his woe.
Ye walls that echo'd to his frantic moan,
Guard the due records of this grateful stone;
Strangers to him, enamour'd of his lays,
This fond memorial to his talents raise.
For this the ashes of a bard require,

Who touch'd the tend'rest notes of Pity's lyre;
Who join'd pure faith to strong poetic powers,
Who, in reviving Reason's lucid hours,

Sought on one book his troubled mind to rest,
And rightly deem'd the book of God the best.

The Manners. An Ode.........

The Passions. An Ode for Music.................................................. An Epistle to Sir Thomas Hanmer, on his Edition of Shakspeare's Works...............

Dirge in Cymbeline....

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86

89

Ode on the Death of Mr. Thomson........
Verses written on a Paper which contained a Piece
of Bride-cake.......

Ode on the Popular Superstitions of the Highlands
of Scotland (with Additions, by Mr. Mac-
kenzie and William Erskine, Esq.)

Observations on the Oriental Eclogues

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ORIENTAL ECLOGUES.

ECLOGUE I.

66

SELIM;

OR,

THE SHEPHERD'S MORAL.

SCENE, A VALLEY NEAR BAGDAT.

TIME, THE MORNING.

YE Persian maids, attend your poet's lays, And hear how shepherds pass their golden days, Not all are blest whom Fortune's hand sustains With wealth in courts; nor all that haunt the plains: Well may your hearts believe the truths I tell; "Tis virtue makes the bliss, where'er we dwell.”

Thus Selim sung, by sacred Truth inspir'd; Nor praise, but such as Truth bestow'd, desir'd:

Wise in himself, his meaning songs convey'd
Informing morals to the shepherd maid;
Or taught the swains that surest bliss to find,
What groves nor streams bestow, a virtuous mind.

When sweet and blushing, like a virgin bride, The radiant morn resum'd her orient pride; When wanton gales along the valleys play, Breathe on each flower, and bear their sweets away; By Tigris' wandering waves he sat, and sùng This useful lesson for the fair and young.

"Ye Persian dames," he said, " to you belongWell may they please-the morals of my song: No fairer maids, I trust, than you are found, Grac'd with soft arts, the peopled world around! The morn, that lights you, to your love supplies Each gentler ray delicious to your eyes: For you those flowers her fragrant hands bestow; And yours the love that kings delight to know. Yet think not these, all beauteous as they are, The best kind blessings heaven can grant the fair! Who trust alone in beauty's feeble ray

Boast but the worth Bassora's pearls display:

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