See the finall stream that pours its murmu ring tide O'er fome rough rock that would its wealth display, Displays it aught but penury and pride?

Ah! conftrue wifely what fuch murmurs fay.

"How would fome flood, with ampler treasures blest, Difdainful view the fcantling drops distil!

How muft* Velino shake his reedy creft!
How every cygnet mock the boastive rill!
Fortune, I yield! and fee, I give the fign;

At noon the poor mechanic wanders home;
Collects the fquare, the level, and the line,

And, with retorted eye, forfakes the dome. Yes, I can patient view the fhadeless plains; Can unrepining leave the rising wall: Check the fond love of art that fir'd my veins, "And my warm hopes, in full purfuit, recall. Defcend, ye ftorms! destroy my rifing pile; Loos'd be the whirlwind's unremitting sway; Contented I, although the gazer smile

To fee it fcarce furvive a winter's day.

Let some dull dotard bask in thy gay shrine,
As in the fun regales his wanton herd;
Guiltless of envy, why should I repine,

That his rude voice, his grating reed, 's prefer'd?
Let him exult, with boundless wealth supply'd,,
Mine and the fwain's reluctant homage fhare;
But ah! his tawdry fhepherdefs's pride,
Gods! muft my Delia, muft my Delia bear?

* A river in Italy.

Let

Muft Delia's foftnefs, elegance, and ease,
Submit to Marian's drefs? to Marian's gold?
Muft Marian's robe from distant India please ?
The fimple fleece my Delia's limbs enfold?
Yet fure on Delia feems the ruffet fair;
"Ye glittering daughters of difguife, adieu!"
So talk the wife, who judge of fhape and air,
But will the rural thane decide fa true?

Ah! what is native worth efteem'd of clowns ?
'Tis thy falfe glare, O fortune! thine they fee
'Tis for my Delia's fake I dread thy frowns,
And my laft gasp shall curfes breath on thee.

ELE GY XI.

He complains how foon the pleafing novelty of life is over. To Mr. JAGO.

A1

H me, my friend! it will not, will not laft!

This fairy-fcene, that cheats our youthful eyes! The charm diffolves; th' aerial music's past; The banquet ceafes, and the vifion flies. Where are the splendid forms, the rich perfumes, Where the gay tapers, where the fpacious dome? Wanifh'd the coftly pearls, the crim fon plumes,

And we, delightless, left to wander home!
Vain now are books, the fage's wisdom vain !
What has the world to bribe our steps aftray,

Ere reafon learns by study'd laws to reign,
The weaken'd paffions, felf-fubdued, obey.

Vain

Scarce has the fun feven annual courses roll'd, Scarce fhewn the whole that fortune can fupply; Since, not the miser so caress'd his gold,

As I, for what it gave, was heard to figh.

On the world's ftage I wish'd some sprightly part; To deck my native fleece with tawdry lace! 'Twas life, 'twas taste, and-oh my foolish heart; Subftantial joy was fix'd in power and place. And you, ye works of art! allur'd mine eye, The breathing picture, and the living ftone: "Though gold, though splendour, heaven and fate "deny,

"Yet might I call one Titian stroke my own!” Smit with the charms of fame, whofe lovely spoil, The wreath, the garland, fire the poet's pride, I trim'd my lamp, confum'd the midnight oil

But foon the paths of health and fame divide ! Oft too I pray'd, 'twas nature form'd the prayer, To grace my native scenes, my rural home; To fee my trees exprefs their planter's care,

And gay, on Attic models, raise my dome.
But now 'tis o'er, the dear delufion's o'er!
A ftagnant breezeless air becalms my foul:
A fond afpiring candidate no more,

I fcorn the palm, before I reach the goal.
O youth! enchanting ftate, profufely blest!
Blifs ev'n obtrufive courts the frolic mind;
Of health neglectful, yet by health carest;
Careless of favour, yet fecure to find.
D

Then

Then glows the breast, as opening rofes fair;
More free, more vivid, than the linnet's wing;
Honeft as light, tranfparent ev'n as air,

Tender as buds, and lavish as the fpring.
Not all the force of manhood's active might,
Not all the craft to subtle age affign'd,
Not science fhall extort that dear delight,
Which gay delufion gave the tender mind.
Adieu foft raptures, tranfports void of care!
Parent of raptures, dear deceit adieu !
And you, her daughters, pining with defpair,
Why, why fo foon her fleeting steps pursue !
Tedious again to curfe the drizling day!
Again to trace the wintry tracks of snow !
Or, footh'd by vernal airs, again furvey,

The felf-fame hawthorns bud, and cowflips blow! O life! how foon of every bliss forlorn!

We start falfe joys, and urge the devious race: A tender prey; that chears our youthful morn, Then finks untimely, and defrauds the chace.

N

ELE GY XII.

His recantation.

O more the Muse obtrudes her thin disguise!
No more with awkward fallacy complains,

How every fervour from my bofom flies,

And reason in her lonefome palace reigns.

Ere

Ere the chill winter of our days arrive,

No more the paints the breaft from paffion free; I feel, I feel one loitering with furvive-

Ah, need I, Florio, name that wish to thee?

The ftar of Venus ufhers in the day,

The first, the lovelieft of the train that shine! The ftar of Venus lends her brightest ray, When other stars their friendly beams refign. Still in my breast one soft defire remains,

Pure as that star, from guilt, from interest free, Has gentle Delia trip'd across the plains,

And need I, Florio, name that wish to thee?
While, cloy'd to find the fcenes of life the fame,
I tune with carelefs hand my languid lays;
Some fecret impulfe wakes my former flame,
And fires my ftrain with hope of brighter days.
I flept not long beneath yon, rural bowers;

And lo! my crook with flowers adorn'd I fee:
Has gentle Delia bound my crook with flowers,
And need I, Florio, name my hopes to thee?

ELE GY XIII..

To a Friend, on fome flight occafion eftranged from him.

HEALTH to my friend, and many a chearful day

Around his feat may peaceful shades abide! Smooth flow the minutes, fraught with fmiles away, And, till they crown our union, gently glide.