With funny lawns, and open areas cheer.
The marifh drain, and, with capacious urns,
And well conducted ftreams, refresh the dry.
So fhall your lawns with healthful verdure fmile,
While others, fick'ning at the fultry blaze,
A ruffet wild difplay, or the rank blade,
And matted tufts the careless owner fhame.
Seek not, with fruitlefs coft, the level plain
To raise aloft, nor fink the rifing hill.

Each hath its charms, though different, each, in kind,

Improve, not alter. Art with art conceal.
Let no ftrait terrac'd lines your flopes deform,
No barb'rous walls restrain the bounded fight.
With better skill your chafte defigns display;
And to the diftant fields the clofer fcene
Connect. The fpacious lawn with scatter'd trees
Irregular, in beauteous negligence,

Clothe bountiful. Your unimprifon'd eye,.
With pleafing freedom, thro' the lofty maze
Shall rove, and find no dull fatiety.
The winding ftream with ftiffen'd line avoid
To torture, nor prefer the long canal,
Or labour'd fount, to nature's easy flow,
And artlefs fall. Your grav lly winding paths
Now to the fresh'ning breeze, or funny gleam
Directed, now with high embow'ring trees,
Or fragrant fhrubs conceal'd with frequent feat,
And rural ftructure deck. Their pleafing form

To fancy's eye fuggefts inhabitants

Of more than mortal make, and their cool fhade,
And friendly shelter, to refreshment sweet
And wholesome meditation fhall invite.

To ev'ry structure give its proper fite.
Nor, on the dreary heath, the gay alcove,
Nor the lone hermit's cell or mournful urn,
Build, on the fprightly lawn. The graffy flope
And fheltered border for the cool arcade,

Or Tuscan porch referve. To the chafte dome,
And fair rotunda give the fwelling mount
Of frefheft green. If to the Gothic fcene
Your tafte incline, in the well-water'd vale,
With lofty pines embrown'd, the mimic fane,
And mould'ring abbey's fretted windows place,
The craggy rock, or precipitious hill,
Shall well become the castle's maily walls,
In royal villas the palladian arch,
And Grecian portico, with dignity,

Their pride display: ill fuits their lofty rank
The fimpler scene. If chance hiftoric deeds
Your fields diftinguish, count them doubly fair,
And ftudious, aid, with monumental ftone,
And faithful comment, fancy's fond review.

ON

ON A LADY'S ASKING A GENTLEMAN HOW MUCH HE LOVED HER.

TO MISS

MY paffion, Sylvia, to prove,

You bid me tell how much I love.
I love thee then-but language fails—
More than bees love flow'ry vales;
More than turtle loyes his dove;
More than warblers love the grove;
More than nature loves the fpring;
More than linnet loves to fing;
More than infects funny beams;
More than poets airy dreams;
More than fifhes love the flood;
More than patriots publick good;
More than flocks the graffy plains,
More than hinds increafing rains;
More than statesman loves his plot;
More than am'rous age to doat;
More than lords their pedigree;
More than Britons to be free;
More than heirs love twenty-one;
More than heroes laurels won;

More than elves the moon-light fhade;

More than ancient maids to wed;

More

WHEN PARTRIDGES ARE ALLOWED TO BE KILLED BY ACT OF PARLIAMENT.

WHEN

HEN the ftill night withdrew her fable ⚫ fhroud,

And left thefe climes with fteps fedate and flow; Whilft fad Aurora kerchief'd in a cloud,

With drizzly vapours hung the mountain's brow:

The wretched bird from hapless + Perdix fprung,
With trembling wings forfook the furrow'd plain ;
And calling round her all her lift'ning young,
In falt'ring accents fung this plaintive strain :

"Unwelcome morn! full well thy low'ring mien. "Foretells the flaughters of th' approaching day; "The gloomy fky laments with tears the scene, "Where pale-ey'd terror re-affumes her fway.

Ah,

Perdix was fuppofed to be turned into a partridge. See Ovid's Metamorphofes.

"Ah, luckless train! ah, fate-devoted race; "The dreadful tale, experience tells, believe; "Dark heavy mists obfcure the morning's face, "But blood and death fhall close the dreary eve.

"This day, fell man, whofe unrelenting hate "No grief can foften, and no tears affwage; "Pours dire deftruction on the feather'd state, "Whilft pride and rapine urge his favage rage.

<6 I, who so oft have 'fcap'd th'impending fnare,
"Ere night arrives may feel the fiery wound;
"In giddy circles quit the realms of air,
"And stain with streaming gore the dewy ground."

She faid; when lo! the pointer winds his prey,
The ruffling ftubble gives the fear'd alarm;
The gunner views the covey fleet away,
And rears th' unerring tube with skilful arm.

In vain the mother wings her whirring flight,
The leaden deaths arrest her as the flies;
Her fcatter'd offspring fwim before her fight,
And, bath'd in blood, she flutters, pants, and dies.

H. P.

THE