From ber" Mifcellanies," Oxford, 1750

A ballade of the not-browne mayde. From Mr.

Capels "Prolufions," 1760, compared with the

"Reliques of ancient English poetry," 1775

Harpalus complaint of Phillidaes love beftowed on

Corin, who loved her not; and denied him that

loved her. From " Songes and sonettes written
by Henry Haward earle of Surrey, and other,”
1557

Epigram. On wit. From "A collection of epi-

grams," 1737

-

An epitaph on a poor boneft man; intended to be

plac'd on a fone in the chancel of the church of

Brombam in the county of Wilts. From "The

foundling-hofpital for wit," 1743

-

A tranflation of an Irish fong, beginning Ma ville

flane g'un oughth chegh khune, &c. From "The

gentleman's magazine," for October, 1751

To Mr. Secretary Murray, on his turning evidence.

From a printed copy, 1747

The beggar. From Pearches collection

324

320

344

349

350

351

- 353

An beroic epifle to fir William Chambers, knight, &c.

From the 14th edition, 1777

· 357

- 360

SILENT Nymph, with curious eye!

Who, the purple evʼning, lie
On the mountain's lonely van,
Beyond the noise of bufy man,
Painting fair the form of things,
While the yellow linnet fings;

*Born 1700; dyed 1758.

VOL. II.

*

5

Or the tuneful nightingale
Charms the forest with her tale;
Come, with all thy various hues,
Come, and aid thy fister Muse;
Now while Phoebus riding high
Gives luftre to the land and sky!
Grongar Hill invites my fong,

Draw the landskip bright and ftrong;
Grongar, in whofe moffy cells
Sweetly mufing Quiet dwells;
Grongar, in whofe filent fhade,
For the modeft Mufes made,
So oft I have, the ev'ning ftill,
At the fountain of a rill,
Sate upon a flow'ry bed,

With

my hand beneath my head;

While ftray'd my eyes o'er Towy's flood,
Over mead, and over wood,

10

15

20

From house to house, from hill to hill,

25

Till Contemplation had her fill.

About his chequer'd fides I wind,

And leave his brooks and meads behind,
And groves, and grottoes where I lay,

And viftoes fhooting beams of day:

Wide and wider spreads the vale;

As circles on a fmooth canal:

The mountains round, unhappy fate!

Sooner or later, of all height,

DYER.

Withdraw their fummits from the skies,
And leffen as the others rife :

Still the prospect wider spreads,

Adds a thousand woods and meads;

Still it widens, widens ftill,

And finks the newly-rifen hill.

40

Now I gain the mountain's brow,

What a landskip lies below!

No clouds, no vapours intervene,

But the gay, the open

scene

Does the face of nature show,

In all the hues of heaven's bow!
And, fwelling to embrace the light,
Spreads around beneath the fight.

Old caftles on the cliffs arise,
Proudly tow'ring in the skies!
Rufhing from the woods, the fpires
Seem from hence afcending fires!
Half his beams Apollo sheds
On the yellow mountain-heads!
Gilds the fleeces of the flocks:

And glitters on the broken rocks!

Below me trees unnumber'd rife, Beautiful in various dyes:

The gloomy pine, the poplar blue,

The yellow beech, the fable yew,

The flender fir, that taper grows,

The sturdy oak with broad-spread boughs.