Daphne fled swifter, in despair,

To 'fcape the God's embrace:

And to the genius of the place,
She figh'd this wondrous prayer :
AIR.

Father Peneus, hear me, aid me!
Let fome fudden change invade me;
Fix me rooted on thy hore.
Ceafe, Apollo, to persuade me;

I am Daphne now no more.
Father Peneus, hear me, aid me!
Let fome fudden change invade me;
Fix me rooted on thy fhore.

RECITATIVE.

Apollo wondering stood to fee

The nymph transform'd into a tree.

Vain were his lyre, his voice, his tuneful art,

His paffion, and his race divine;

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Nor could th' eternal beams that round his temples

fhine,

Melt the cold virgin's frozen heart.

AIR.

Nature alone can Love infpire;

Art is vain to move Defire.

If Nature once the fair incline,
To their own passion they refign.
Nature alone can Love inspire;
Art is vain to move Defire.

A

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Α

THOUGHT IN A GARDEN.

WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1704.

ELIGHTFUL mansion! bleft retreat!

DE

Where all is filent, all is fweet!
Here Contemplation prunes her wings,
The raptur'd Mufe more tuneful fings,
While May leads on the chearful hours,
And opens a new world of flowers.
Gay Pleasure here all dresses wears,
And in a thousand fhapes appears.
Pursued by Fancy, how the roves
Through airy walks, and museful
Springs in each plant and bloffom'd tree,

And charms in all I hear and fee!

In this elyfium while I ftray,

And Nature's faireft face furvey,

groves;

Earth feems new-born, and life more bright; 15
Time steals away, and smooths his flight;
And thought 's bewilder'd in delight.
Where are the crowds I faw of late?
What are thofe tales of Europe's fate?
Of Anjou, and the Spanish crown;
And leagues to pull ufurpers down?
Of marching armies, diftant wars ;
Of factions, and domestic jars ;

L 3

Sure these are last night's dreams, no more;
Or fome romance, read lately o'er;

Like Homer's antique tale of Troy,

And powers confederate to destroy

Priam's proud house, the Dardan name,
With him that ftole the ravish'd dame,
And, to poffefs another's right,
Durft the whole world to arms excite.
Come, gentle Sleep, my eye-lids clofe,
Thefe dull impreffions help me lofe :
Let Fancy take her wing, and find
Some better dream to footh my mind
Or waking let me learn to live;
The profpect will instruction give.

J

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35

For fee, where beauteous Thames does glide
Serene, but with a fruitful tide;

Free from extremes of ebb and flow,

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Not fwell'd too high, nor sunk too low:

Such let my life's fmooth current be,

Till, from Time's narrow fhore set free,
It mingle with th' eternal fea;

And, there enlarg'd, shall be no more
That trifling thing it was before.

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A

JA

Since all that's paft no vows can e'er restore, But joys and griefs alike, once hurry'd o'er, No longer now deferve a fmile or tear; Close the fantaftic fcenes-but grace With brightest aspects thy foreface While time's new offspring haftens to appear. With lucky omens guide the coming hours, Command the circling feasons to advance,

And form their renovated dance,

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With flowing pleasures fraught, and blefs'd by friend

ly powers.

II.

Thy month, O Janus! gave me first to know

A mortal's trifling cares below;

My race of life began with thee.

Thus far, from great misfortunes free,

Contented, I my lot endure,

Nor nature's rigid laws arraign,

Nor fpurn at common ills in vain,

Which folly cannot shun, nor wife reflection cure.

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III.

But oh!--more anxious for the year to come,

I would foreknow my future doom.
Then tell me, Janus, canft thou spy
Events that yet in embryo lie

For me, in time's mysterious womb ?
Tell me-nor fhall I dread to hear

A thousand accidents fevere;

I'll fortify my foul the load to bear,

If love rejected add not to its weight,

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To finish me in woes, and crush me down with fate. . IV.

But if the goddess, in whose charming eyes,
More clearly written than in fate's dark book,
My joy, my grief, my all of future fortune lies;
If the muft with a less propitious look
Forbid my humble facrifice,

Or blast me with a killing frown ;

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If, Janus, this thou feeft in store,

Cut fort my mortal thread, and now

Take back the gift thou didst bestow!
Here let me lay my burden down,

And ceafe to love in vain, and be a wretch no more. 40

CAN