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" & abandonnerent tous leur biens pour detonner dans "d'autres temples les vieux pfeaumes de Clement "Marot."

Page 242.]"La crainte donna le jour à la credulité, " & l'amour propre interessa bientot le ciel au destin des "hommes."

HYMN

H Y

M N

то THE

NAIAD S.

MDCC XLVI.

THE Nymphs, who prefide over fprings and rivulets, are addreffed at day-break, in honor of their feveral functions, and of the relations which they bear to the natural and to the moral world. Their origin is deduced from the firft allegorical deities, or powers of nature; according to the doctrine of the old mythological poets, concerning the generation of the gods and the rife of things. They are then fucceffively confidered, as giving motion to the air and exciting fummer-breezes; as nourishing and beautifying the vegetable creation; as contributing to the fullness of navigable rivers, and confequently to the maintenance of commerce; and by that means, to the maritime part of military power. Next is reprefented their favourable influence upon health, when affifted by rural exercife: which introduces their connection with the art of phyfic, and the happy effects of mineral medicinal fprings. Laftly, they

are

are celebrated for the friendship which the Mufes bear them, and for the true inspiration which tem-perance only can receive: in oppofition to the enthufiafm of the more licentious poets.

O'

'ER yonder eastern hill the twilight pale

Walks forth from darkness; and the God of day, With bright Aftræa feated by his fide,

Waits yet to leave the ocean. Tarry, Nymphs,
Ye Nymphs, ye blue-ey'd progeny of Thames,
Who now the mazes of this rugged heath
Trace with your fleeting steps; who all night long
Repeat, amid the cool and tranquil air,
Your lonely murmurs, tarry: and receive
My offer'd lay. To pay you homage due,
I leave the gates of fleep; nor fhall my lyre
Too far into the fplendid hours of morn
Ingage your audience: my obfervant hand
Shall close the ftrain ere any fultry beam
Approach you. To your fubterranean haunts
Ye then may timely fteal; to pace with care
The humid fands; to loofen from the foil
The bubbling fources; to direct the rills
To meet in wider channels; or beneath
Some grotto's dripping arch, at height of noon
To flumber, fhelter'd from the burning heaven.
Where fhall my fong begin, ye Nymphs? or end?
Wide is your praise and copious-Firk of things,
First of the lonely powers, ere Time arofe,

Were

Were Love and Chaos. Love, the fire of Fate;
Elder than Chaos. Born of Fate was Time,
Who many fons and many comely births
Devour'd, relentless father: till the child
Of Rhea drove him from the upper sky,
And quell'd his deadly might. Then focial reign'd
The kindred powers, Tethys, and reverend Ops,
And fpotlefs Vefta; while. fupreme of fway
Remain'd the cloud-compeller. From the couch
Of Tethys fprang the fedgy crowned race,
Who from a thoufand urns, o'er every clime,
: Send tribute to their parent; and from them
Are ye, O Naiads: Arethufa fair,

And tuneful Aganippe; that sweet name,
Bandufia; that foft family which dwelt
With Syrian Daphne; and the honour'd tribes
`Belov'd of Pæon. Liften to my strain,
Daughters of Tethys : liften to your praise.

You, Nymphs, the winged offspring, which of old Aurora to divine Aftræus bore,

Owns; and your aid befeecheth. When the might
Of Hyperion, from his noontide throne,
Unbends, their languid pinions, aid from you
They afk: Favonius and the mild South-west
From you relief implore. Your fallying ftreams
Fresh vigour to their weary wings impart.
Again they fly, difporting; from the mead
Half ripen'd and the tender blades of corn,
To sweep the noxious mildew; or dispel
Contagious fteams, which oft the parched earth

Breathes

Breathes on her fainting fons. From noon to eve,
Along the river and the paved brook,

Afcend the cheerful breezes: hail'd of bards
Who, faft by learned Cam, the Æolian lyre
Solicit; nor unwelcome to the youth
Who on the heights of Tibur, all inclin'd
O'er rufhing Anio, with a pious hand
The reverend fcene delineates, broken fanes,
Or tombs, or pillar'd aqueducts, the pomp
Of ancient Time; and haply, while he scans
The ruins, with a filent tear revolves
The fame and fortune of imperious Rome.
You too, O Nymphs, and your unenvious aid
The rural powers confefs; and still prepare

For you
their choiceft treasures. Pan commands,
Oft as the Delian king with Sirius holds
The central heavens, the father of the grove
Commands his Dryads over your abodes
To fpread their deepest umbrage. Well the god
Remembereth how indulgent ye fupplied

Your general dews to nurfe them in their prime.
Pales, the pafture's queen, where-e'er ye stray,
Purfues your steps, delighted; and the path
With living verdure clothes. Around your haunts
The laughing Chloris, with profufest hand,
Throws wide her blooms, her odors. Still with you
Pomona feeks to dwell and o'er the lawns,
And o'er the vale of Richmond, where with Thames
Ye love to wander, Amalthea pours

Well-pleas'd the wealth of that Ammonian horn,

Her

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