Thus for your fake I fhun each human eye;
I bid the sweets of blooming youth adieu;
To die I languifh, but I dread to die,

Left my fad fate should nourish pangs for you
Raise me from earth; the pains of want remove
And let me filent feek fome friendly fhore
There only, banish'd from the form I love,
My weeping virtue shall relapfe no more.

t

Be but my friend; I ask no dearer name;

Be fuch the meed of fome more artful fair;
Nor could it heal my peace, or chase my shame,
That pity gave, what love refus'd to share.
Force not my tongue to afk its fcanty bread;
Nor hurl thy Jeffy to the vulgar crew;
Not fuch the parent's board at which I fed!
Not fuch the precept from his lips I drew !
Haply, when
has filver'd o'er my hair,
Malice may learn to scorn fo mean a spoil;
Envy may flight a face no longer fair;

age

And pity, welcome, to my native soil.”

She spoke-nor was I born of favage race;
Nor could thefe hands a niggard boon affign;
Grateful the clafp'd me in a laft embrace,

And vow'd to wafte her life in prayers for mine.

I faw her foot the lofty bark afcend;

I faw her breast with every paffion heave;

I left her-torn from every earthly friend;

Oh! my hard bofom, which could bear to leave!

4

Brief

Brief let me be; the fatal storm arofe;

The billows rag'd, the pilot's art was vain
O'er the tall maft the circling furges clofe;
My Jeffy-floats upon the watery plain!
And-fee my youth's impetuous fires decay;
Seek not to stop reflection's bitter tear;
But warn the frolic, and inftruct the gay,
From Jeffy floating on her watery bier!

ODES,

ODES, SONGS, BALLADS, &c.

RURAL ELEGANCE.

An ODE to the late Duchefs of SOMERSET. Written 1750.

WHILE orient skies reftore the day,

And dew-drops catch the lucid ray;

Amid the fprightly fcenes of morn,
Will aught the Muse inspire'
Oh! Peace to yonder clamorous horn
That drowns the facred lyre!

Ye rural thanes that o'er the mossy down
Some panting, timorous hare purfue;

Does nature mean your joys alone to crown?
Say, does the fimooth her lawns for you?
does echo bid the rocks reply,

For

you

And urg'd by rude constraint refound the jovial cry?

See from the neighbouring hill, forlorn
The wretched swain your sport survey ;

He finds his faithful fences torn,

He finds his labour'd crops a prey;
He fees his flock-no more in circles feed;
Haply beneath your ravage bleed,

And with no random curfes loads the deed.

Nor

Nor yet, ye fwains, conclude

That nature fmiles for you alone;

Your bounded fouls, and your conceptions crude,
The proud, the selfish boaft difown:

Yours be the produce of the foil:

O may it still reward your

toil!

Nor ever the defenceless train

Of clinging infants afk fupport in vain?

But though, the various harvest gild your plains,
Does the mere landscape feast your eye?

Or the warm hope of diftant gains
Far other cause of glee fupply?
Is not the red-streak's future juice
The fource of your delight profound,
Where Ariconium pours her gems profufe,
Purpling a whole horizon round?

Athirst ye praise the limpid stream, 'tis true:
But though, the pebbled fhores among,
It mimic no unpleafing fong,

The limpid fountain murmurs not for

Unpleas'd ye fee the thickets bloom,

you.

Unpleas'd the fpring her flowery robe refume;
Unmov'd the mountain's airy pile,

The dappled mead without a smile.

O let a rural confcious Mufe,

For well she knows, your froward fenfe accufe: Forth to the folemn oak you bring the fquare, And span the maffy trunk, before you cry, 'tis fair.

Nor

Nor yet ye learn'd, nor yet ye courtly train,

If haply from your haunts ye stray
To waste with us a fummer's day.
Exclude the tafte of every fwain,
Nor our untutor'd fenfe difdain:
'Tis nature only gives exclufive right
To relish her fupreme delight;

She, where the pleases kind or coy,
Who furnishes the fcene, and forms us to enjoy.
Then hither bring the fair ingenuous mind,
By her aufpicious aid refin'd;

Lo! not an hedge-row hawthorn blows,
Or humble hare-bell paints the plain,
Or valley winds, or fountain flows,
Or purple heath is ting'd in vain :
For fuch the rivers dafh the foaming tides,
The mountain fwells, the dale fubfides;
Ev'n thriftlefs furze detains their wandering fight,

And the rough barren rock grows pregnant with delight.

With what fufpicious fearful care

The fordid wretch fecures his claim,

If haply fome luxurious heir

Should alienate the fields that wear his name! What fcruples left fome future birth

Should litigate a span of earth!

Bonds, contracts, feoffments, names unmeet for profe,
The towering Mufe endures not to disclose;

Alas! her unrevers'd decree,

More comprehenfive and more free,

Her lavish charter, tafte, appropriates all we fee.