to fay, that the reader may not be misled to look upon the relation given by Aurelius in the fecond canto, as drawn from the wantonnefs of imagination, when it hardly arises to strict hiftorical truth.

What reception this poem may meet with, the author cannot foresce: and, in his humble, but happy retirement, he needs not be over-anxious to know. He has endeavoured to make it one regular and confiftent whole; to be true to nature in his thoughts, and to the genius of the language in his manner of expreffing them. If he has fucceeded in these points, but above all in effectually touching the paffions, which, as it is the genuine province, fo is it the great triumph, of poetry; the candor of his more difcerning readers will readily overlook mistakes or failures in things of lefs importance.

TO MRS. MALLET.

THOU faithful partner of a heart thy own,
Whofe pain, or pleasure, fprings from thine alone;
Thou, true as honour, as compaffion kind,
That, in fweet union, harmonize thy mind:
Here, while thy eyes, for fad Amintor's woe,
And Theodora's wreck, wich tears o'erflow,
O may thy friend's warm with to heaven prefer'd
For thee, for him, by gracious heaven be heard!
So her fair hour of fortune fhall be thine,
Unmix'd; and all Amyntor's fondnefs mine.
So, through long vernal life, with blended ray,
Shall Love light up, and Friendship close our day:
Till, fummon'd late this lower heaven to leave,
One figh fhall end us, and one earth receive.

AMY N

A M Y N

TO R

F

AND

THE ODOR A:

OR,

THE HER MIT.

CANTO I.

AR in the watery wafte, where his broad wave
From world to world the vast Atlantic rolls,

On from the piny fhores of Labrador

To frozen Thulé eaft, her airy height

Aloft to heaven remotest Kilda lifts;
Laft of the fea-girt Hebrides, that guard,
In filial train, Britannia's parent-coast.

Thrice happy land! though freezing on the verge
Of arctic skies; yet, blameless fill of arts
That polish, to deprave, each fofter clime,
With fimple nature, fimple virtue bleft!
Beyond Ambition's walk: where never War
Uprear'd his fanguine ftandard; nor unsheath'd,
For wealth or power, the defolating fword.
Where Luxury, foft fyren, who around

To thousand nations deals her nectar'd cup

Of pleafing bane, that foothes at once and kills,

Is yet a name unknown. But calm content

That

That lives to reafon; ancient Faith that binds
The plain community of guilelefs hearts

In love and union; Innocence of ill

Their guardian genius: thefe, the powers that rule
This little world, to all its fons fecure

Man's happiest life; the foul ferene and found
From Paffion's rage, the body from disease.
Red on each cheek behold the rofe of health;
Firm in each finew Vigor's pliant spring,
By Temperance brac'd to peril and to pain,
Amid the floods they ftem, or on the steep
Of upright rocks their straining steps furmount,
For food or paftime. These light up their morn,
And close their eve in flumber fweetly deep,
Beneath the north, within the circling fwell
Of oceans raging found. But laft and beft,
What Avarice, what Ambition shall not know,
True Liberty is theirs, the heaven-sent guest,
Who in the cave, or on th' uncultur'd wild,
With Independence dwells; and Peace of mind,
In youth, in age, their fun that never fets.

Daughter of heaven and nature, deign thy aid,
Spontaneous Mufe! O whether from the depth
Of evening forest, brown with broadeft shade
Or from the brow fublime of vernal alp
As morning dawns; or from the vale at noon,
By fome foft ftream that flides with liquid foot
Through bowery groves, where Inspiration fits
And liftens to thy lore, aufpicious come!
O'er thefe wild waves, o'er this unharbour'd fhore,

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Thy

Thy wing high-hovering spread; and to the gale,
The boreal fpirit breathing liberal round
From echoing hill to hill, the lyre attune
With anfwering cadence free, as best beseems
The tragic theme my plaintive verfe unfolds.
Here, good Aurelius-and a scene more wild
The world around, or deeper folitude,
Affliction could not find-Aurelius here,
By fate unequal and the crime of war
Expell'd his native home, the facred vale

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That faw him bleft, now wretched and unknown,

Wore out the flow remains of setting life

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In bitterness of thought: and with the furge,

And with the founding ftorm, his murmur'd moan
Would often mix-Oft as remembrance fad

Th' unhappy past recall'd; a faithful wife,

Whom Love first chofe, whom Reason long endear'd, 65,
His foul's companion and his softer friend;

With one fair daughter, in her rofy prime,
Her dawn of opening charms, defenceless left
Within a tyrant's grafp! his foe profess'd,
By civil madness, by intemperate zeal
For differing rites, embitter'd into hate,
And cruelty.remorseless!-Thus he liv'd:
If this was life, to load the blast with fighs;
Hung o'er its edge, to fwell the flood with tears,
At midnight hour: for midnight frequent heard
The lonely mourner, defolate of heart,
Pour all the husband, all the father forth

unavaili ng anguish; ftretch'd along

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The

The naked beach; or fivering on the cliff,

Smote with the wintery pole in bitter ftorm,

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Hail, fnow, and shower, dark-drifting round his head. Such were his hours; till Time, the wretch's friend, Life's great physician, skill'd alone to close,

90

Where forrow long has wak'd, the weeping eye,
And from the brain, with baleful vapours black, 85
Each fullen spectre chace, his balm at length,
Lenient of pain, through every fever'd pulse
With gentleft hand infus'd. A pensive calm
Arofe, but unaffur'd: as, after winds
Of ruffling wing, the sea subsiding flow
Still trembles from the ftorm. Now Reafon first,
Her throne refuming, bid Devotion raise
To heaven his eye; and through the turbid mifts,
By fenfe dark-drawn between, adoring own,
Sole arbiter of fate, one Caufe fupreme,
All-juft, all-wife, who bids what still is beft,
In cloud or fun-fhine; whofe fevereft hand
Wounds but to heal, and chaftens to amend.

Thus, in his bosom, every weak excess,
The rage of grief, the felnefs of revenge,
To healthful measure temper'd and reduc'd
By Virtue's hand; and in her brightening beam
Each error clear'd away, as fen-born fogs
Before th' afcending fun; through faith he lives
Beyond Time's bounded continent, the walks
Of Sin and Death. Anticipating heaven
In pious hope, he seems already there,
Safe on her facred fhore; and fees beyond,

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