DESIGNS B Y Mr. R. BENTLEY, FOR SIX POEMS B Y Mr. T. G R A Y. LONDON: Printed for R. D od s l e y, in Pall-mall* mdccliii* E X P LANATIO N OF THE PRINTS. O D E on the SPRING. FRONTISPIECE. A Figure muling, &c. The ornaments allude to the chief fub- jeds of the poems, as the altar, chaplet of flowers and ruftic pipe, to this ode : a boy with a hobby-horfe and a book, to that on Eton: a cat-arion, or a cat with a lyre fitting on a dolphin’s back, to that line on the death of a cat No Dolphin came , no Nereid Jlirrd : a monkey with a violin and lawyer’s wig, to my lord keeper Hatton’s dancing, in the Long Story : a Roman fepulchral altar inlcribed Diis Manibus Sacrum, with a fpade and Ikull, to the elegy. The monkey painting, the lyre, the pen and crayon, are alluflve to the poems and drawings. Headpiece. ] The Graces and Zephyrs fporting. Initial Letter.] Flowers. Tailpiece.] A landfcape with herds repoflng. ODE EXPLANATION of the PRINTS. ODE on the Death of a Favourite CAT, FRONTISPIECE. T H E cat Handing on the brim of the tub, and endeavouring to catch a gold fifh. Two cariatides of a river god Hopping his ears to her cries, and Defliny cutting the nine threads of life, are on each lide. Above, is a cat’s head between two expiring lamps, and over that, two moufe-traps, between a mandarin-cat fitting before a Chinefe pagoda, and angling for gold fifh into a china jar ; and another cat drawing up a net. At the bottom are mice enjoying themfelves on the profpedt of the cat’s death ; a lyre and pallet. Headpiece.] The cat alrnofl drowned in the tub. A fiandifli on a table to write her elegy. Two cats as mourners with hatbands and Haves. Dead birds, mice and fifh hung up on each fide. Initial Letter.] The cat, demurefi of the tabby kind, dozing in an elbow chair. Tailpiece.] Charon ferrying over the ghoH of the deceafed cat, who fets up her back on feeing Cerberus on the fhore. O D E on the diftant Profpefr of E T O N, FRONTISPIECE. B O Y S at their fports, near the chapel of Eton, the god of the Thames fitting by : the pafiions, misfortunes, and difeafes coming down upon them. On either fide, terms reprefenting Jealoufy and Madnefs. Above is a head of Folly : beneath, are play-things intermixed with thorns, a fword, a ferpent and a fcorpion. EXPLANATION of the PRINTS. Headpiece.] Science adoring the fhade of Henry Vlth. Twd angels bearing fhields infcribed with that king’s name fupport a Gothic building, in allufion to his foundations at Eton and Cambridge. Initial Letter.] Part of Windfor-caftle. Tailpiece.] Two boys dreft in watermen’s cloaths, row¬ ing another. A view of Eton college at a diftance. The Long STORY. FRONTISPIECE. T H E Mufes conveying the Poet under their hoops to a fmall clofet in the garden. Fame in the fhape of Mr. P-is flying before; and after him the two female warriors, as de* fcribed in the verfes. On one flde is my lord keeper Hatton dancing ; and among the ornaments are the heads of the Pope and queen Elizabeth nodding at one another; behind him is a papal bull, a phial of fublimate, a dagger and a crucifix ; behind her the cannon called queen Elizabeth’s pocket-piftol. H eadpiece.] A view of the houfe which formerly belonged to the earls of Huntingdon and lord keeper Hatton. Initial Letter.] A coronet, fin, muff' and tippet, in the manner of Hollar. Tailpiece.] Ghofts of ancient ladies and old maids, peeping over the gallery. H Y M N EXPLANATION of the PRINTS. HYMN to ADVERSIT Y. FRONTISPIECE. U P I T E R delivering infant Virtue to Adverflty to be educa¬ ted. Minerva and Hercules on each flde. Headpiece.] Adverlity difturbing the Orgies of Folly, Noife and Laughter. Initial Letter.] A Gorgon’s head, and inftruments ofpunilhment. Tailpiece.] Melancholy. ELEGY Written in a Country Church-yard. FRONTISPIECE. A G. thic gateway in ruins with the emblems of nobility on one lide ; on the other, the implements and employments of the Poor. Thro’ the arch appears a church-yard and village- church built out of the remains of an abbey. A countryman Ihowing an epitaph to a paffenger. Headpiece.] Country-labours. Initial Letter.] An owl difturbed and flying from a ruinous tower. Tailpiece.] A country burial. At bottom, a torch fallen into an ancient vault. O ! where the rofy-bofom’d Hours, Fair V enus’ train appear, Difclofe the long-expe£flng flowers, And wake the purple year ! The Attic warbler pours her throat, Refponfive to the cuckow’s note, The untaught harmony of Ipring : While whilp’ring pleafure as they fly, Cool Zephyrs thro’ the clear blue Iky Their gather’d fragrance fling. Where’er [ * ] Where’er the oak’s thick branches ftretch A broader browner (hade ; Where’er the rude and mofs-grown beech O’er-canopies the glade ; Befide fome water’s rulhy brink With me the Mufe (hall fit, and think (At cafe reclin’d in ruftic (late) How vain the ardour of the Crowd, How low, how little are the Proud, How indigent the Great! Still is the toiling hand of Care: The panting herds repofe : Yet hark, how thro’ the peopled air The bufy murmur glows ! The infedt youth are on the wing, Eager to tafte the honied fpring, And C 3 ] And float amid the liquid noon : Some lightly o’er the current fkim, Some fhew their gayly-gilded trim Quick-glancing to the fun. To Contemplation’s fober eye Such is the race of Man: And they that creep, and they that fly. Shall end where they began. Alike the Bufy and the Gay But flutter thro’ life’s little day, In fortune’s varying colours dreft : Brufh’d by the hand of rough Mifchance, Or chill’d by age, their airy dance They leave, in dull to reft. Methinks I hear in accents low The fportive kind reply : Poor moralift ! and what art thou ? A folitary fly ! Thy [ 4 ] Thy Joys no glittering female meets, No hive haft thou of hoarded fweets, No painted plumage to difplay : On hafty wings thy youth is flown ; Thy fun is fet, thy fpring is gone- — We frolick, while ’tis May. ODE On the Death of a Favourite CAT, Drowned in a Tub of Gold Fillies. WAS on a lofty vafe’s fide, Where China’s gayeft art had dy’d The azure flowers, that blow ; Demureft of the tabby kind, The penfive Selima reclin’d, Gazed on the lake below. Her confcious tail her joy declar’d ; The fair round face, the fnowy beard, The velvet of her paws, Her coat, that with the tortoife vies, Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes, She faw; and purr’d applaufe. Still [ 6 ] Still had (he gaz’d: but ’midft the tide Two angel forms were feen to glide, The Genii of the ftream : Their fcaly armour’s Tyrian hue Thro’ richeft purple to the view Betray’d a golden gleam. The haplefs Nymph with wonder faw : A whifker firft and then a claw, With many an ardent wifh, She ftretch’d in vain to reach the prize. What female heart can gold defpife ? What Cat’s averfe to- fifli ? Prefumptuous Maid ! with looks intent Again fhe ftretch’d, again fhe bent, Nor knew the gulf between. (Malignant Fate fat by, and fmil’d) The flipp’ry verge her feet beguil’d. She tumbled headlong in. Eight times emerging from the flood She mew’d to ev’ry watry God, Some fpeedy aid to fend. No [ 7 ] No Dolphin came, no Nereid ftirr’d : Nor cruel Tom, nor Sufan heard. A Fav’rite has no friend ! From hence, ye Beauties, undeceiv’d, Know, one falfe ftep is ne’er retriev’d, And be with caution bold. Not all that tempts your wand’ring eyes And heedlefs hearts, is lawful prize ; Nor all, that glifters, gold. ODE On a Diftant Profpeft of ETON COLLEGE. E diftant fpires, ye antique towers, That crown the watry glade, Where grateful Science ftill adores Her Henry’s holy Shade ; And ye, that from the ftately brow Of Windsor’s heights th’ expanfe below Of grove, of lawn, of mead furvey, Whofe turf, whofe (hade, whofe flowers among Wanders the hoary i hames along His filver-winding way. [ 9 1 Ah happy hills, ah pleafing (hade, Ah fields belov’d in vain, Where once my carelefs childhood ((ray’d, A ((ranger yet to pain ! I feel the gales, that from ye blow, A momentary blifs bellow, As waving frefh their gladfome wing, My weary foul they feem to footh, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breath a fecond fpring. Say, Father Thames, for thou had feen Full many a (prightly race Difporting on thy margent green The paths of pleafure trace, Who foremoft now delight to cleave With pliant arm thy glafly wave ? The captive linnet which enthrall ? What idle progeny fucceed To chafe the rolling circle’s fpeed, Or urge the flying ball ? While [ 10 ] While (ome on earned: bufinefs bent Their murm’ring labours ply ’Gaind graver hours, that bring condraint To fweeten liberty : Some bold adventurers difdain The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions dare defcry : Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind, And {natch a fearful joy. Gay hope is theirs by fancy fed, Lefs pleafing when polled; The tear forgot as loon as died, The funfhine of the bread : Theirs buxom health of rofy hue, Wild wit, invention ever-new, And lively chear of vigour born ; The thoughtlefs day, the eafy night, The fpirits pure, the {lumbers light, That fly th’ approach of morn. Alas, [ II ] Alas, regardlefs of their doom, The little vidtims play ! No fenfe have they of ills to come, Nor care beyond to-day : Yet fee how all around ’em wait The Minifters of human fate, And black Misfortune’s baleful train ! Ah, fhew them where in ambufh ftand To feize their prey the murth’rous band S Ah, tell them, they are men ! Thefe fhall the fury Paffions tear, The vulturs of the mind, Difdainful Anger, pallid Fear, And Shame that fculks behind ; Or pineing Love fhall wafte their youth, Or Jealoufy with rankling tooth, That inly gnaws the fecret heart, And Envy wan, and faded Care, Grim-vifag’d comfortlefs Defpair, And Sorrow’s piercing dart. Ambition [ *2 ] Ambition this fhall tempt to rife, r _ Then whirl the wretch from high, To bitter Scorn a facrifice, And grinning Infamy. The flings of Falfhood thofe fhall try, And hard Unkindnefs’ alter’d eye, That mocks the tear it forc’d to flow; And keen Remorfe with blood defil’d, And moody Madnefs laughing wild Amid fevereft woe. Lq, in the vale of years beneath A griefly troop are leen, The painful family of Death, More hideous than their Queen : This racks the joints, this fires the veins, That every labouring finew ftrains, Thofe in the deeper vitals rage : Lo, Poverty, to fill the band, That numbs the foul with icy hand, And flow-corifuming Age. To [ i3 ] To each his fufPrings : all are men, Condemn’d alike to groan, The tender for another’s pain ; Th’ unfeeling for his own. Yet ah ! why Ihould they know their fate ? Since forrow never comes too late. And happinefs too fwiftly flies. Thought would deftroy their paradife. No more ; where ignorance is blifs, ’Tis folly to be wife. N Britain’s Ifle, no matter where. An ancient pile of building hands : The Huntingdons and Hattons there Employ’d the power of Fairy hands [ 1 5 ] Full oft within the fpatious walls, When he had fifty winters o’er him, My grave a Lord-Keeper led the Brawls: The Seal, and Maces, danc’d before him. His bufhy beard, and lhoe-ftrings green, His high-crown’d hat, and fattin-doublet, Mov’d the flout heart of England’s Queen, Tho’ Pope and Spaniard could not trouble it, What, in the very firft beginning! Shame of the verbifying tribe ! Your Hifflry whither are you fpinning ? Can you do nothing but defcribe ? A Houfe there is, (and that’s enough) From whence one fatal morning Lues A brace of Warriors, not in bufi, But ruffling in their filks and tiflues. * Hatton, prefer’d by Queen Elizabeth for his graceful Perfon and BneDancing. The [ 1 The firft came cap-a-pee from France Her conqu’ring deftiny fulfilling, Whom meaner Beauties eye afkance, And vainly ape her art of killing. The other Amazon kind Heaven Had arm’d with fpirit, wit, and latire : But Cobham had the polifh given, And tip’d her arrows with good-nature. To celebrate her eyes, her air. Coarfe panegyricks would but teaze her. Melifla is her Nom de Guerre. Alas, who would not wifh to pleafe her! With bonnet blue and capucine, And aprons long they hid their armour, And veil’d their weapons bright and keen In pity to the country-farmer. Fame Fame in the Chape of Mr. P — t (By this time all the Parilh know it) Had told, that thereabouts there lurk’d A wicked Imp they call a Poet, Who prowl’d the country far and near, Bewitch’d the children of the peafants, Dried up the cows, and lam d the deei, And fuck’d the eggs, and kill’d the pheafants. My Lady heard their joint petition, Swore by her coronet and ermine. She’d iffue out her high commiffion To rid the manour of fuch vermin. The Heroines undertook the talk, Thro’lanes unknown, o’er ftiles theyventur d, Rap’d at the door, nor flay’d to afk, But bounce into the parlour enter’d. The ft. Ill [ ‘8 ] The trembling family they daunt. They flirt, they fing, they laugh, they tattle, Rummage his Mother, pinch his Aunt, And up flairs in a whirlwind rattle. Each hole and cupboard they explore. Each creek and cranny of his chamber, Run hurry-fkurry round the floor, And o’er the bed and tefter clamber, Into the Drawers and China pry, Papers and books, a huge Imbroglio! Under a tea-cup he might lie, Or creafed, like dogs-ears, in a folio. On the firft marching of the troops The Mufes, hopelefs of his pardon, Convey’d him underneath their hoops To a fmall clofet in the garden. So [ l 9 ] So Rumor (ays. (Who will, believe.) But that they left the door a-jarr, Where, fafe and laughing in his fleeve, He heard the dillant din of war. Short was his joy. He little knew. The power of Magick was no fable. Out of the window, whiflc, they flew, But left a fpell upon the table. The words too eager to unriddle The Poet felt a ftrange diforder: Tranfparent birdlime form’d the middle, And chains invifible the border. So cunning was the Apparatus, The powerful pothooks did fo move him, That, will he, nill he, to the Great-houfe He went, as if the Devil drove him. Yet --- - - [ io 1 Yet on his way (no fign of grace, For folks in fear are apt to pray) To Phoebus he prefer’d his cafe, And beg’d his aid that dreadful day. The Godhead would have back’d his quarrel, But with a bluih on recolleftion Own’d, that his quiver and his laurel ’Gainft four fuch eyes were no protection. The Court was fate, the Culprit there. Forth from their gloomy manfions creeping The Lady Janes and Joans repair, And from the gallery hand peeping : Such as in filence of the night Come (fweep) along fome winding entry ( b Styack has often feen the fight) Or at the chappel-door hand fentry ; b The House-Keeper. In [ 21 ] In peaked hoods and mantles tarnifh’d, Sour vilages, enough to fcare ye, High Dames of honour once, that garnifh’d The drawing-room of fierce Queen Mary ! The Peerefs comes. The Audience flare, And doff their hats with due fubmiffion: She curtfies, as fhe takes her chair, To all the People of condition. The Bard with many an artful fib, Had in imagination fenc’d him, Difproved the arguments of c Squib , And all that d Groom could urge againft him. But foon his rhetorick foribok him, When he the folemn hall had feen ; A fudden fit of ague fhook him, He flood as mute as poor e Macleane. Groom of the Chambers. I’he Steward. A fatuous Highwayman bang'd the week before. Yet [ ] Yet fomething he was heard to matter, ‘ How in the park beneath an old-tree ‘ (Without defign to hurt the butter, * Or any malice to the poultry,) ‘ He once or twice had pen’d a fonnet; ‘ Yet hoped, that he might fave his bacon : 4 Numbers would give their oaths upon it, ‘ He ne’er was for a conj’rer taken. The ghoftly Prudes with hagged face Already had condemn’d the finner. My Lady rofe, and with a grace- She failed, and bid him come to dinner. ‘ Jefu-Maria! Madam Bridget, ‘ Why, what can the Vieountefs mean ? (Cried the fquare Hoods in woful fidget) ‘ The times are alter’d quite and clean ! ‘ Decorum’s [ 2 3 1 i Decorum’s turn’d to mere civility ; ‘ Her air and all her manners fhew it. ‘ Commend me to her affability ! ‘ Speak to a Commoner and Poet! [ Here 500 Stanzas are lo/t. ] And fo God fave our noble King, And guard us from long-winded Lubbers, That to eternity would fing, And keep my Lady from her Rubbers. HYM N to ADVERSITY. AUGII 1 ER of Jo Ve, relentlefs Power, Thou Tamer of the human breaff Whofe iron fcourge and tortVing hour The Bad affright, afflict the Bcft! Bound in thy adamantine chain The Proud are taught to tafte of pain, And purple Tyrants vainly groan With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone. When [ 2 5 ] When firft thy Sire to fend on earth Virtue, his darling Child, defign’d, To thee he gave the heav’nly Birth, And bad to form her infant mind. Stern rugged Nurfe ! thy rigid lore With patience many a year fhe bore : What forrow was, thou bad’ft her know, And from her own the learn’d to melt at other’s woe, Scared at thy frown terrific, fly Self-pleafing Folly’s idle brood, Wild Laughter, Noife, and thoughtlefs Joy, And leave us leifure to be good. Light they difperfe, and with them go The fummer Friend, the flatt’ring Foe ; By vain Profperity received, To her they vow their truth,and are again believed. Wifdom [ ^ ] Wifdom in fable garb array’d Immers’d in rapt’rous thought profound, And Melancholy, filent maid With leaden eye, that loves the ground, Still on thy folemn heps attend : Warm Charity, the gen’ral friend, With juftice to herfelf fevere, And Pity, dropping foft the ladly-pleafing tear. Oh, gently on thy Suppliant’s head, Dread Goddefs, lay thy chaft’ning hand ! Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad, Nor circled with the vengeful Band (As by the Impious thou art feen) With thund’ring voice, and threat’ning mien, With fcreaming Horror’s funeral cry, Defpair, and fell Difeafe, and ghaflly Poverty. Thy Thy form benign, oh Goddefs, wear, Thy milder influence impart, Thy philofophic Train be there To foften, not to wound my heart, The gen’rous fpark extinct revive, Teach me to love and to forgive, Exadt my own defedts to fcan, What others are, to feel, and know myfelf a Man. Wi it ten in a Country Church Yard. iy i HE Curfew tolls the knell of parting day, IX ! The lowin g herd wind flowly o’er the lea, JfS The plowman homeward plods his weary way. And leaves the world to darknefs and to me. Now [ % 9 1 Now fades the glimmering landfcape on the fight, And all the air a folemn ftillnefs holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowfy tinklings lull the diftant folds ; Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tow’r The mopeing owl does to the moon complain Of fuch, as wand’ring near her fecret bow’r, Moled her ancient folitary reign. Beneath thofe rugged elms, that yew-tree’s fhade, Where heaves the turf in many amould’ring heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude Forefathers of the hamlet fleep. The breezy call of incenfe-breathing Morn, The fwallow twitt’ring from the draw-built fhed. The cock’s Ihrill clarion, or the ecchoing horn, No more fhall roufe them from their lowly bed. For [ 3 ° 1 For them no more the blazing hearth fhall burn, Or bufy houfwife ply her evening care : No children run to lifp their fire’s return, Or climb his knees the envied kifs to (hare. Oft did the harveft to their fickle yield, Their furrow oft the ftubborn glebe has broke ; How jocund did they drive their team afield! How bow’d the woods beneath their fturdyftroke! Let not Ambition mock their ufeful toil, Their homely joys, and deftiny obfcure ; Nor Grandeur hear with a difdainful fmile, The fhort and fimple annals of the poor. The boaft of heraldry, the pomp of pow’r, And all that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave, Awaits alike th’ inevitable hour. The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor [ 3 1 ] Nor you, ye Proud, impute to Thefe the fault, If Mem’ry o’er their Tomb no Trophies raife, Where thro’ the long-drawn ifle and fretted vault The pealing anthem fwells the note of praife. Can Itoried urn or animated bull Back to its manlion call the fleeting breath ? Can Honour’s voice provoke the filent dull, Or Flatt’ry footh the dull cold ear of Death 1 Perhaps in this neglected {pot is laid Some heart once pregnant with celeftial fire, Hands, that the rod of empire might have fway’d, Or wak’d to extafy the living lyre. But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page Rich with the {polls of time did ne ei uni oil \ Chill Penury reprefs’d their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the foul. Full [ 3 1 1 Full many a gem of pureft ray ferene, The dark unfathom’d caves of ocean bear : Full many a flower is born to blufh unleen, And wafte its Iweetnels on the delei t air. Some village-Hampden, that with dauntlefs breaft The little Tyrant of his fields withftood ; Some mute inglorious Milton here may reft, Some Cromwell guiltlefs of his country’s blood. Th’ applaufe of lift’ning fenates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to defpife, To fcatter plenty o’er a ftniling land. And read their hift’ry in a nation’s eyes Their lot forbad : nor circumfcrib’d alone Their growing virtues, but their crimes confin d ; Forbad to wade through (laughter to a throne, And fhut the gates of mercy on mankind, The [ 33 3 'The ftruggling pangs of confcious truth to hide, To quench the blufhes of ingenuous fhame, Or heap the fhrine of Luxury and Pride With incenfe kindled at the Mufe’s flame. Far from the madding crowd’s ignoble ftrife, Their fober wifhes never learn d to ftray , Along the cool fequefter’d vale of life They kept the noifelefs tenor of their way. Yet ev’n thefe bones from infult to protect Some frail memorial ftill ereftcd nigh, With uncouth rhimes and fhapelefs fculpture Implores the pafling tribute of a flgh. L e Their name, their years, fpelt by th’ unletter d mule, The place of fame and elegy fupply : And many a holy text around (lie ftrews, That teach the ruftic moralift to dye. For [ 34 ] For who to dumb Forgetfulnefs a prey, This pleafing anxious being e’er refign’d, Left the warm precin&s of the chearful day, Nor call one longing ling’ring look behind ? On fome fond bread the parting foul relies, Some pious drops the doling eye requires; Ev’n from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, Ev’n in our Alhes live their wonted Fires. For thee, who mindful of th’ unhonour d Dead Dolt in thefe lines their artlefs tale relate ; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred Spirit fhall inquire thy fate, Haply fome hoary-headed Swain may lay, ‘ Oft have we feen him at the peep of dawn ‘ Brufhing with halty Iteps the dews away ‘ To meet the fun upon the upland lawn. ‘ There [ 35 ] ‘ There at the foot of yonder nodding beech 4 That wreathes its old fantaftic roots fo high, ‘ His liftlefs length at noontide wou’d he ftretch, 4 And pore upon the brook that babbles by. 4 Hard by yon wood, now fmiling as in fcorn, 4 Mutt’ring his wayward fancies he wou’d rove, 4 Now drooping, woeful wan, like one idlorn, 4 Or craz’d with care, or crofs’d in hopelefs love. 4 One morn I mifs’d him on the cuftom’d hill, 4 Along the heath and near his fav’rite tree ; 4 Another came ; nor yet befide the rill, 4 Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he, 4 The next with dirges due in fad array 4 Slow thro’ the church-way path we fawhimborn. 1 Approach and read (for thou can It read) the lay, 4 Grav’d on the ltone beneath yon aged thorn. The The EPITAPH. TJ ere refts his head upon the lap of Earth A Touth to Fortune and to Fame unknown , Fair Science frown’d not on his humble birth , And Melancholy mark'd him for her own. Large was his bounty , and his foulfncere , Heavn did a recompence as largely fend: He gave to Mis'ry all he had , a tear , He gain'd from Heavn ('Psoas all he wijh'd) a friend. No farther feek his merits to difclofe , Gr draw his frailties from their dread abode , (There they alike in trembling hope repofej The bofom of his Father and his God. vir j*?