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May be in every manly grace excel,
Lo! tempestuous winter near
Warble no soft tales of love:
All are wither'd, all are dead:
When my Laura went away;
When she comes, again they'll rise,
Blooming where she points her eyes.
Hark! I hear a sound froin far,
Clanking arms, the din of war,
Dreadful music to my ear!
All was peace when you was here.
Now rebellion shakes the land,
Murder waves her bloody hand;
High in air their banners fly,
Dreadful tumulis rend the sky:
Rise, my fair, and bring with thec
Softer, sweeter, harmony;
All my doubts and fears remove,
Give me freedom, give me love;
Discord when you come will cease,
And in my bosom all be peace.
TO HIS GRACE
DR. THOMAS HERRING,
A NOSEGAY FOR LAURA.
Add ng more; already I
While rosy health abounds in erery breeze,
· I see, I see conspicious how you stood,
Your righteous zeal the brave Brigantes warmd, Enough has Winter's hand severe
Chastis'd this dreary coast,
And chill'd the tender dawning year
With desolating frost : From every flower medicinal that springs,
Give but thy vital beams to play, Waft ba!my fragrance with your temperate
These ice-wrought scenes will melt away ; wings,
And, mix'd in sprightly dance, the blooming
grace, the glory of the church restore, And save the friend, the father of the poor. Will wake the drowsy Spring, the Spring awake
the flowers. And lo ! our prayers, with fervency preferr’d, Rise sweet as incense, and by Heav'n are heard :
Let Health, gay daughter of the skies, The genial season, with refreshing rains,
On Zephyr's wings descend, Bright-beaming mornings, health-exhaling plains,
And scatter pleasures, as she flies, And pure etherial gales, conspire to heal
Where Surry's downs extend : Our public father, for the public weal.
There Herring wooes her friendly power ; Oh! by kind Providence to Britain given,
There may she all her roses shower; Long may you live, and late revisit Heaven;
To heal that shepherd all her balms einploy, Continue still to bless us with your stay,
So will she sooth our fears, and give a nation joy. Nor wish for Heav'n till we have learnt the way. So by your pattern shall our years be spent
The grateful seasons, circling fast, In sweet tranquillity, and gay content ;
Reviving suns restore, So shall we rise immortal from the dust,
But life's short spring is quickly past,
And blooms, alas! no more ;
We reach the winter of our days,
bi virtue emulate the bless'd above, TO MRS. HERRING.
And like the Spring display benevolence and love,
WITH FOUR ODES ON THE SEASONS.
BY A GENTLEMAN OF CAMBRIDGE.
Since your goodness poetical tribute demands,
ODE TO SUMMER.
Hail., gentle Summer, to this isle !
And breathe in every plain;
"Tis thine to bid each flower display, As bountiful Autumn with plenty is crown'd,
And open to the eye of day Thus calm you distribute your blessings around: The glories of its reign. But with you how shall I cold Winter compare ?
While yon few sheep enjoy the breeze, Your wit is as piercing and keen as the air:
That softly dies upon the trees, Thus you furnish with emblems whenever I sing
And rest beneath the shade ;
This pipe, which Damon gave, shall raise
And ask the Muse's aid.
A VERNAL ODE,
SENT TO HIS GRACL THE LORD ARCHBISHOP OP CAN
Diana's ear shall catch the sound,
The vale, or upland lawn;
Or chase the flying fawn.
March 12, 1754.
Revives the buried seed;
With verdure every mead;
Diffusing mildness through the sky; Give the soft season to our drooping plains, Sprinkled with rosy dews, and salutary rains.
Two rivers in Surry, thus described by Mr.
The blue, transparent Vandalis appears,
Ev'u now, perchance, some cool retreat
And Phoebus' noontide beam;
Beside the winding stream.
To thee that plenty owes;
From whence that plenty flows.
Happy the man whose vessel glides
Lo! Winter comes, in fogs array'd, Safe and unhurt by passion's tides,
With ice and spangled dews; Nor courts the gusts of praise !
To dews, and fogs, and storms, be paid He sails with even, steady pace,
The tribute of the Muse. While virtue's full-blown beauties grace
Each flowery carpet Nature spread
Is vanish'd from the eye;
No Philomel is nigh.
(For well I ween her plaintive note
Can soothing ease impart ;
Relieve the wounded heart.)
No blushing rose unfolds its bloom,
No tender lilies blow,
To scent the air with rich perfume,
Or grace Lucinda's brow.
Th' indulgent Father who protects
The wretched and the poor ;
With the same gracious care directs
The sparrow to our door.
Dark, scowling tempests rend the skies
And clouds obscure the day;
His genial warmth the Sun denies,
And sheds a fainter ray.
Yet blame we not the troubled air,
Or seek defects to find; Forests of vegetable gold !
[tween For Power Omnipotent is there, How mix'd the many chequer'd shades be- And walks upon the wind. The tawny, mellowing hue, and the gay vivid
Hail every pair whom love unites
In wedlock's pleasing ties ;
That blessing to the wise!
Though yon pale orb no warmth beştows,
And storms united meet; So tranquil Nature's works appear,
The fame of love and friendship glows
With unextinguish'd heat.
Such is of well-spent life the time,
TO RIS GRACE THE LORD ARCHBISHOP OF
CANTERBURY. And Summer's full-blown pride no more, l'e gains pacific Autumn, mild and bland,
Thanks to the generous hand that plac'd me And dauntless braves the stroke of Winter's pal
here, sy'd band.
Fast by the fountains of the silver Cray,
Who leading to the Thames his tribute clear,
Through the still valley winds his secret way.
Yet from his lowly bed with transport sees
In fair exposure noblest villas rise,
Hamlets embosom'd deep in antient trees,
And spires that point with reverence to the
O woodland hills ! that gently rising swell;
Where peace and joy and rich abundance
How shall my slender reed your praise resound BY A GENTLEMAN OF CAMBRIDGE.
In numbers worthy of the polish'd ear? From mountains of eternal snow,
What powers of strong expression can be found And Zembla's dreary plains ;
To thank the generous hand that plac'd me Where the bleak winds for ever blow,
here: And frost for ever reigns ;
That gave each requisite of blissful life;
With freedom's voice to wake the slumbering Sweet leisure in sequester'd shades of Kent,
age, The softening virtues of a faithful wife,
To cheer fair merit, prowess to advance, And competence well sorted with coutent ? Dauntless to rise, and scourge with generous rage For these, if I forget my patron's praise,
The high-plum'd pride and perfidy of France. While bright ideas dance upon my mind, Alas! no longer burns the glorious flame: Ne'er may these eyes behold auspicious days, The patriot passion animates no more ; May friends prove faithless, and the Muse But, like the whirling eddy, some low aim unkind.
Absorbs alike the great, the rich, the poor. May 1756.
Not so, when wise Aurelius o'er the north
Shed the mild influence of his pastoral care,
The madness of rebellion issuing forth,
He stemm'd the torrent of the rising war.
Behold bim! with his country's weal inspir'd, AN ELEGY.
Before the martial sons of Ebor stand,
Fair in the robe of eloquence attir'd, SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF THOMAS HERRING, D D.
In act to speak, he waves the graceful hand : LATE LORD ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY.
Silent as evening, lo! the listening throng, Ruicquid ex illo amavimus, quicquid mirati su- While from his lips the glowing periods fall, mus, manet mansurumque est in animis ho
Drink sweet persuasion streaming from his minum, in æternitate temporum, famâ re
tongue, Tacit. Vit. Agric.
And the firm chain of concord binds them all Fast by the fountains of the silver Cray' As some large river, gentle, strong, and deep,
Encircled deep with weeping willows round, Winds bis smooth volumes o'er the wide cam0! let me sorrowing pass the pensive day,
paign, And wake my reed to many a plaintive sound. Then forceful flows, and with resistless sweep, For good Aurelius (now alas! no more)
Rolls, in his strength collected, to the main : Sighs follow sighs, and tears to tears succeed; Thus the good prelate, in his country's cause, Him shall the Muse in tenderest notes deplore, Pour'd the full tide of eloquence along ; For oft he tun'd to melody my reed.
As erst Tyrtæus gain'd divine applause, How was I late by bis indulgence blest,
Who fir'd the Spartans with heroic song. Cheer'd with his smiles, and by his precepts | But when religious truths his bosom warm’d, taught !
Faith, hope, repentance, and eternal love,
The holy city's adamantine gate
Temper'd with dignity and lively sense ; Unravell’d every path, perplex'd and strait, Sweetness and candour beam'd upon his face, And gave to willing minds the safe-conducting Emblems of love and large benevolence.
clew. Yet never useless slept those virtues fair, For God's Messiah was his chosen guide; Nor languish'd unexerted in the mind;
And well the sacred lore he understood, Secret as thought, yet unconfin'd as air, And well the precept, sent from Heaven, apply'd,
He dealt his bounties out to all mankind. “ For evil meekly recompensing good.” How will the poor, alas! now truly poor, Thus mild, thus humble, in the bighest state, Bewail their generous benefactor dead ?
The “onething needful'' was his sole regard Who daily, from bis hospitable door,
Belov'd, and blamelesss he prolong'd his date The naked cloth'd, and gave the hungry By acts of goodness, which theinselves reward. bread.
To him the bed of sickness gave no pain; To sick and orphans duly sent relief,
For, trusting oniy in th’ Almighty King, Was feet and eyes to cripples and the blind, He look'd on dissolution as his gain; Sooth'd all the suffering fainily of grief,
No terrours had the grave, and death no sting. And pour'd sweet balsam on the wounded mind.
Ah! Muse, forbear that last sad scene to draw How will the nation their lost guardian mourn? This bomage, due to virtue, let me pay,
Lo! pale-ey'd Science fix'd in grief appears; These heart-sprung tears, inspir'd by filial awe, The drooping Arts, reclining on his urn,
These nurgbers warbled to the silver Cray.
"A river in Kent.
With jny, great prince, your happy subjects
A better Titus now reviv'd in you; (view. ON THE DEATH OF HIS MOST SACRED MAJESTY
Of gentler nature, and of nobler blood,
Whose only study is your people's good : KING GEORGE THE SECOND.
For you (so truly is your heart benign)
To heathen virtues christian graces join. Ah, fatal hour!--we must at last resign
O may Heaven's providence around you wait, Farewel, great hero of the Brunswick line!
And bless you with a longer, happier date ; For valour much, for virtue more renown'd,
Then will your virtue all its powers display, With wisdom honour'd, and with glory crown'd.
And noble deeds distinguish every day; 'Twas thy bless'd lot a happy reign to close,
Joys unallay'd will sweetly fill your breast, And die serene, triumphant o'er thy foes;
Your people blessing. by your people blest; To see the faithless, vain insulting Gaul,
Then will the rage of rancorous discord cease, Like proud Goliath, nodding to his fall;
The drooping arts revive, and all the world have In chains the sons of tyranny to bind, And vindicate the rights of human kind.
peace. No brighter crown than Britain's God could
November 15, 1760.
A PARODY ON A PASSAGE IN
MILTON'S PARADISE LOST.
Beneath a beech's bowery shade TO HIS MOST SACRED MAJESTY Damon in musing mood was laid, ON HIS ACCESSION.
A brook soft-dimpling by his side,
Thus echo, as be sung, reply'd:
Soft melody the sky-lark trills,
Bright are the dew-drops on the thorn, And death-denouncing bells are heard no niore, Fresh are the zephyrs on the hills, Nor pausing cannou in loud notes declare
Pure are the fountains in the vale below, A nation's grief, and rend the troubled air;
And fair the flowers that on their borders blow: Deign, mighty prince, these gentler sounds to Yet neither breath of roseate morn, hear:
Nor wild notes which the sky-lark trills, Oh! were they worthy of the sovereign's ear,
Nor dew.drops glittering on the thorn, The Muse should greet Britannia's blissful isle, Nor the fresh zephyrs of the hills, Where crown'd with liberty the graces smile; Nor streams that musically-murmuring flow, Where the pleas'd halcyon builds her tranquil Nor towers that on their mossy margins grow, nest,
Can any joy suggest No storms disturb her, and no wars molest:
But to the temper'd breast, For still fair peace and plenty here remainid,
Where virtue's animating ray While George, the venerable monarch, reign'd. Mlumines every golden day, One generation pass'd secure away,
Beams on the mind, and makes all nature gay." “ Wise oy his rules, and happy by his sway;" Now cold in death the much-lov'd hero lies, His soul unbodied seeks her native skies: The living laurels which his temples crown'd
THE LORD'S PRAYER. Strike root, and shade bis funeral pile around.
Father of all, whose throne illumines Heaven, As when the Sun, bright ruler of the year,
All honour to thy holy name be given. Through glowing Cancer rolls his golden sphere,
l'hy gracious kingdom come: thy righteous will He gains new vigour as his orb declives,
Let men on Earth as saints in Heaven fulfil. And at the goal with double lustre shines : In splendour thusgreat George's reign surpast,
Give us this day the bread by which we live:
As we onr«lebtors, thou our debts forgive, Bright beam'd each year, but brightest far the last :
Let not temptation lead us into woe: Where-ever waves could roll, or breezes blow,
Keep us from sin, and our infernal foe. His fleet pour'd ruin on the faithless foe: [hurl'd, Thy power, thy glory, is for evermore.
For thy supreme dominion we adore; France saw, appall'd, the dreadful vengeance
Amen. And own'd him monarch of her western world. But now, alas! see pale Britannia mourn, Anil all her sons lamenting o'er his urn. Thus when Vespasian died, imperial Rome
DAVID'S LAMENTATION OVER Wish cumious tears bedew'd the patriot's toinb;
SAUL AND JONATHAN.
SAMUEL, BOOK II.
The flow'r of Israel withers on the plain; The darling and delight of human-kind.
How are the mighty on the mountains slain!