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 ELEGIES, 
 
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 [Price One Shilling.]
 
 ELEGIES. 
 
 D Y 
 
 WILLIAM M A S O N. M. A. 
 
 LONDON, 
 
 Printed for Robert Horsfikld, at tlic CrovYn in Ludgate-Street: 
 Soldby R. and J. DoDSLEY, in Pall-Mail; and C.Marsh, at Charing- Crofs, 
 
 Alfo by W. TiiURLBouRN and J. Wqodyer in Cambridge; W. Tessey- 
 MAN, in York; and W. Ward, in Sheffield. 
 
 MDCCLXIII.
 
 [I] 
 
 
 ELEGY L 
 
 To a rOUNG NOBLEMAN 
 Leaving the Univerftty. 
 
 E'E R yet, ingenuous Youth, thy fleps retire 
 From Cam's fmooth margin, and the peaceful vale, 
 Where Science call'd thee to her ftudious quire, 
 
 And met thee mufmg in her cloyfters pale; 
 O ! let thy friend (and may he boaft the name) 
 Breath from his artlefs reed one parting lay ; 
 A lay like this thy early Virtues claim. 
 And this let voluntary Friendfliip pay. 
 
 B Yet 
 
 865288
 
 [a] 
 
 Yet know, the time arrives, the dangerous time, 
 
 When all thofe Virtues, opening now fo fair, 
 Tranfplanted to the world's tempeftuous clime, 
 
 Muft learn each Paflion's boift'rous breath to bear. 
 There, if Ambition peftilent and pale, 
 
 Or Luxury fhould taint their vernal glow ; 
 If cold Self-intereft, with her chilling gale. 
 
 Should blaft th'unfolding bloflbms e'er they blow ; 
 If mimic hues, by Art, or Fafhion fpread, 
 
 Their genuine, fimple colouring fhould fupply, 
 O ! with them may thefe laureate honors fade ; 
 
 And with them (if it can) my Friendfhip die. 
 Then do not blame, if, tho' thyfelf infpire, 
 
 Cautious I ftrike the panegyric firing ; 
 The Mufe full oft purfues a meteor fire. 
 
 And, vainly ventrous, foars on waxen wing. 
 
 Too
 
 [ 3 ] 
 
 Too adively awake at Friendfliip's voice, 
 
 The Poet's bofom pours the fervent ftrain, 
 Till fad Reflexion blames the hafty choice, 
 
 And oft invokes Oblivion's aid in vain. 
 Call we the Shade of Pope, from that blefl: bower 
 
 Where thron'd he fits with many a tuneful Sage ; 
 Afk, if he ne'er bemoans that haplefs hour 
 
 When St. John's name * illumin'd Glory's page ? 
 Afk, if the wretch, who dar'd his mem'ry ftain, 
 
 Afk, if his country's, his religion's foe 
 Defer v'd the meed that Marlbro' fail'd to gain. 
 
 The deathlefs meed, he only could beftow ? 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 • Alluding to this couplet of Mr. Pope's, 
 
 To Cato Virgil paid one honeft line, 
 O let my Country's friends illumine mine. 
 
 B 2 The
 
 [4] 
 
 The Bard will tell thee, the mifguided praife 
 
 Clouds the coeleflial funfhine of his bread ; 
 Ev'n now, repentant of his erring Lays, 
 
 He heaves a figh amid the realms of reft. 
 If Pope thro' friendfhip fail'd, indignant view. 
 
 Yet pity Drvden ; hark, whene'er he lings, 
 How Adulation drops her courtly dew 
 
 On titled Rhymers, and inglorious Kings. 
 See, from the depths of his exhauftlefs mine, 
 
 His glittering ftores the tuneful Spendthrift throws ; 
 Where Fear, or Intereft bids, behold they fhine ; 
 
 Now grace a Cromwell's, now a Charles's brows. 
 Born with too generous, or too mean a heart, 
 
 Dryden ! in vain to thee thofe ftores were lent: 
 Thy fweeteft numbers but a trifling Art ; 
 
 Thy ftrongeft di<5lion idly eloquent. 
 
 The
 
 [s ] 
 
 The fimplefl: Lyre, if Triitli dircdls its Lays, 
 
 Warbles a melody ne'er heard from thine : 
 Not to difguft with fiilfc, or venal praife. 
 
 Was Parnell's modefl fame, and may be mine. 
 Go then, my Friend, nor let thy candid breaft 
 
 Condemn me, if I check the plaufive firing ; 
 Go to the wayward world ; compleat the reft ; 
 
 Be, what the pureft Mufc would wifli to flng. 
 Be ftill thyfelf ; that open path of Truth, 
 
 Which led thee here, let Manhood firm purfue ; 
 Retain the fweet fimplicity of Youth, 
 
 And, and all thy virtue dilates, dare to do. 
 Still fcorn, with confcious pride, the mafk of Art ; 
 
 On vices front let fearful caution lour, 
 And teach the diffident, difcreeter part 
 
 Of kna\'es that plot, and fools that fawn for Power. 
 
 So,
 
 [6] 
 
 So, round thy brow when Age's honours fpread, 
 
 When Death's cold hand unftrings thy Mason's lyre, 
 When the green turf lies lightly on his head, 
 
 Thy worth fhall fome fuperior bard infpire : 
 He, to the ampleft bounds of Time's domain, 
 
 On Rapture's plume fhall give thy Name to fly ; 
 For truft, with reverence truft this * Sabine ftrain : 
 
 " The Mufe forbids the virtuous Man to die." 
 Written in 1753. • 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 *..! M.. Digaum laudc Virum. 
 
 Mufa vetat mori. Horace, 
 
 ELEGY
 
 [7] 
 
 ELEGY II. 
 
 Written in the GARDEN 
 of a FRIEND. 
 
 WHILE o'er my head this laurel-woven bower 
 Its arch of glittering verdure wildly flings, 
 Can Fancy {lumber ? can the tuneful Power, 
 
 That rules my lyre, ncgledl her wonted ftfings ? 
 No ; if the blighting Eafl deform'd the plain, 
 
 If this gay bank no balmy fweets exhal'd, 
 Still Ihould the grove re-echo to my ftrain, 
 
 And friendfliip prompt the theme, where beauty fail'd. 
 
 For
 
 [8] 
 
 For he, whofc carelefs art this foliage dreft, 
 
 Who bad thefe tvvifting braids of woodbine bend, 
 He iirfi:, with truth and virtue, ^ taught my breafl 
 
 Where beft to chufe, and beft to fix a friend. 
 How well does Mcm'ry note the golden day. 
 
 What time, reclin'd in MargVets ftudious glade. 
 My mimic reed firft tun'd the * Dolman Lay, 
 
 " Unfeen, unheard, beneath an hawthorn fhade ?" 
 'Twas there we met j the Mufes hail'd the hour; 
 
 The fame defires, the fame ingenuous arts 
 Infpir'd us both ; we own'd and bleft the power 
 
 That join'd at once our fludies, and our hearts. 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 * MuSiEus, the firfl: Poem which the Author publifhed, written while he 
 was a Scholar of St. John's College in Cambridge. 
 
 OI
 
 C9] 
 
 O ! fiiicc thofc days, vvlicn Science fprcad the fcaft, 
 
 When emulative Youth its rch'fh lent, 
 Say, has one genuine Joy e'er warm'd my breafl; ? 
 
 Enough ; if Joy was his, be mine Content, 
 To thirft for praiic liis temperate Youth forbore ; 
 
 He fondly wifh'd not for a Poet's name ; 
 Much did he love the Mufe, but Quiet more, 
 
 And, tho' he might command, he flighted Fame, 
 Hither, in manhood's prime, he wifely fled 
 
 From all that Folly, all that Pride approves j 
 To this foft fcene a tender Partner led j 
 
 Tliis laurel fhade was witnefs to their loves. 
 *' Begone," he cry'd, *' Ambition's air-drawn plan ; 
 
 " Hence with perplexing pomp, unwieldy wealth : 
 " Let me not feem, but be the happy man, 
 
 " PoITcfl: of Love, of Competence, and Health," 
 
 C Smilinn;
 
 [ 10] 
 
 Smiling he fpake, nor did the Fates withftand j 
 
 In rural arts the peaceful moments flew : 
 Say, lovely Lawn ! that felt his forming hand, 
 
 How foon thy furface fhone with verdure new, 
 Hovv foon obedient Flora brouglither ftore. 
 
 And o'er thy breaft a fhower of fragrance flung : 
 Vertumnus came; his earlieft blooms he bore, 
 And thy rich fides with waving purple hung : 
 Then to the flght, he call'd yon (lately fpire, 
 
 He pierc'd th'oppofmg oak's luxuriant fhade ; 
 Bad yonder crouding hawthorns low retire. 
 
 Nor veil the glories of the golden mead. , 
 Hail, fylvan wonders, hail ; and hail the hand, 
 
 Whofe native taRc thy native charms difplay'd/ ^ 
 
 And taught one little acre to command ^ ' 
 Each envied happinefs of fcene, and flaade* 
 
 Is
 
 [ " ] 
 
 Is there a hill, whofc diftant a/.iire bounds 
 
 The ample range of Scarfdale's proud domain, 
 A mountain hoar, that yon wild Peak furrounds, 
 
 But lends a willing beauty to thy plain ? 
 And, lo ! in yonder path I fpy my friend ; 
 
 He looks the guardian genius of the grove, 
 Mild as * the fabled Form that whilom deign'd, 
 
 At Milton's call, in Harelield's haunts to rove. 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 * Sec the Defcription of the Genius of the Wood, in Milton's 
 Arcades. 
 
 For know, by lot, from Jove, I am the Pov,er 
 Of this fair wood, and Uve in oaken bower ; 
 To nurfe the Saphngs tall, and curl the grove 
 With ringlets quaint, 6cc. 
 
 C 2 Bk-ri
 
 [ 'O 
 
 Blefc Spirit, come! tho' pent in mortal mould, 
 
 I'll yet invoke thee by that purer name j 
 O come, a Portion of thy blifs unfold, 
 
 From Folly's maze my wayward ftep reclaim. 
 Too long, alas, my inexperienc'd youth, 
 
 Milled by flattering Fortune's fpecious tale, 
 Has left the rural reign of Peace, and Truth, 
 
 The huddling brook, cool cave, and whifpering vale. 
 Won to the v/orld, a candidate for praife, 
 
 Yet, let me boaft, by no ignoble art. 
 Too oft the public ear has heard my lays. 
 
 Too much its vain applaufe has touch'd my heart ; 
 But now, e'er Cuftom binds his powerful chains. 
 
 Come, from the bafe enchanter fet me free, 
 While yet my foul its firft, beft tafte retains^ 
 Recall that foul to reafon, peace, and thee. 
 
 Teach
 
 [ '3 ] 
 
 Teach mc, like tliec, to mufc on Nature's page, 
 
 To mark each wonder n Creation's plan, 
 Each mode of being trace, and, humbly fagc, 
 
 Deduce from thefe the genuine powers of Man j 
 Of Man, while warm'd with reafon's purer ray, 
 
 No tool of policy, no dupe to pride ; 
 Before vain Science led his tafte aftray ; 
 
 When confcience was his law, and God his guide. 
 This let me learn, and learning let me live 
 
 The leilbn o'er. From that great Guide of Truth 
 O may my fuppliant foul the boon receive 
 
 To tread thro' age the footfteps of thy youth. 
 Written in 1758. 
 
 ELEGY
 
 [IS] 
 
 ELEGY IIL 
 
 0» the D EAr H of a LAD T, 
 
 TH E midnight clock has toll'd ; and hark, the bell 
 Of Death beats flow ! heard ye the note profound ? 
 It paufcs now ; and now, with riling knell, 
 Flings to the hollow gale its fullen found. 
 Yes * * * is dead. Attend the ftrain, 
 
 Daughters of Albion ! Ye that, light as air, 
 So oft have tript in her fantaftic train. 
 
 With hearts as gay, and faces half as fair : 
 
 For
 
 [ i<5] 
 
 For flie was fair beyond your brighteft bloom : 
 
 (This Envy owns, fince now her bloom is fled) 
 Fair as the Forms that, wove in Fancy's loom, 
 
 Float in light vifion round the Poet's iiead. 
 Whene'er with foft ferenity fhe fmil'd. 
 
 Or caught the orient blufli of quick furprize, 
 How fweetly mutable, how brightly wild, 
 
 The liquid luftre darted from her eyes ? 
 Each look, each motion wak'd a new-born grace, 
 
 That o'er her form its tranfient glory caft : 
 Some lovelier wonder foon ufurp'd the place, 
 
 Chas'd by a charm ftill lovelier than the lafl;. 
 That bell ao-ain ! It tells us what fhe is : 
 
 On what flie was no more tiie ftrain prolong : 
 Luxuriant Fancy paufe : an hour like tliis 
 
 Demands the tribute of a ferious Song. 
 
 Maria
 
 Ci7 3 
 
 Maria claims it from that {able bier, 
 
 Where cold and wan the flumberer rcfts her head ; 
 In ftill fmall whifpers to refledion's ear, 
 
 She breathes the folemn dilates of the Dead, 
 O catch the awful notes, and Hft them loud ; 
 
 Proclaim the theme, by Sage, by Fool rever'd j 
 Hear it, ye Young, ye Vain, ye Great, ye Proud ! 
 
 'Tis Nature fpeaks, and Nature will be heard. 
 Yes, ye fhall hear, and tremble as ye hear, 
 
 While, high with health, your hearts exulting leap : 
 Ev'n in the midft of pleafure's mad career, 
 
 The mental Monitor fhall wake and weep. 
 For fay, than * * *'s propitious ftar, 
 
 What brighter planet on your births arofe ; 
 Or gave of Fortune's gifts an ampler fliare. 
 
 In life to laviHi, or by death to lofc I 
 
 D Eaib
 
 C i8] 
 
 Early to lofe ; while, born on bufy wing, 
 
 Ye fip the nevSar of each varying bloom : 
 Nor fear, while bafking in the beams of fpring, 
 
 The wintry ftorm that fweeps you to the tomb. 
 Think of her Fate ! revere the heav'nly hand 
 
 That led her hence, though foon, by fteps fo flow j 
 Long at her couch Death took his patient ftand, 
 
 And menac'd oft, and oft withheld the blow : 
 To give Refledion time,- with lenient art. 
 
 Each fond deluiion from her foul to fteal ; 
 Teach her from Folly peaceably to part, 
 
 And wean her from a world fhe lov'd fo well.. 
 Say, are ye fure his Mercy fhall extend 
 
 To you fo long a fpan ? Alas, ye figh : 
 Make then, while yet ye may, your God your friend, 
 
 And learn with equal eafe to lleep or die! 
 
 4 
 
 Nor
 
 [ '9] 
 
 Nor think, the Mufe, whofe fobcr voice ye hear, 
 
 Contrads with bio;ot frown her fullcn brow^ : 
 Cafts round Religion's orb the mifts of fear, 
 
 Or fhades with horrors, wliat with fmiles fliould glow. 
 No ; fhe would warm you with fcraplxic fire. 
 
 Heirs as ye are of heav'n's eternal day ; 
 Would bid you boldly to that heav'n afpire, 
 
 Not fink and flumber in your cells of clay. 
 Know, ye were form'd to range yon azure field, 
 
 In yon zethereal founts of blifs to lave ; 
 Force then, fecure in Faith's protecting fhield, 
 
 The Sting from Death, the Vid'ry from the Grave. 
 Is this the bigot's rant ? Away ye Vain, 
 
 Your hopes, your fears in doubt, in dulnefs fteep : 
 Go footh your fouls in ficknefs, grief, or pain, 
 
 With the fad folace of eternal fleep. 
 
 Pa Ydt
 
 [ i°] 
 
 Yet will I praifc yon, triflers as ye are, 
 
 More than thofe Preachers of your fav'rite creed, 
 V/ho proudly fwell the brazen throat of War, 
 
 Who form the Plialanx, bid the battle bleed ; 
 Nor wifh for more : who conquer, but to die. 
 
 Hear, Folly, hear ; and triumph in the tale : 
 Like you, they reafon ; not, like you, enjoy 
 
 The breeze of blifsj that fills your filken fail :: 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 In a hook o£ French verfes, entitled OeinTes dii Philofophe de fans Soud, 
 and lately reprinted at Berlin by authority, under the title of Pocfies Divcrfcs^ 
 may be found an epiftle to Marfhal Keith, written profelTedly againfl: the 
 immortality of the Soul. Byway of fpccimen of the whole, take the follow- 
 ing lines. 
 
 De I'avenir, chcr Keith, jugeons par le paffe ; 
 
 Comme avant que jc fuiTe il n'avoit point penfe, 
 
 De meme, apres ma mort, quand toutes mes parties 
 
 Par le corruption feront aneanties, 
 
 Par un meme deftin il ne penfera plus ; 
 
 Non, rien n'efl plus certain, foyons-en convaincu 5cc, 
 
 It is to this epiftle, that the reft of the Elegy alludes. 
 
 On
 
 On Plcafure's glitt'ring flrcam ye gayly ftcer 
 
 Your little courfe to cold oblivion's fhore : 
 They dare the florm, and, through th'inclcment year, 
 
 Stem the rough furge, and brave the torrent's roar. 
 Is it for Glory ? that juft Fate denies. 
 
 Long mufl: the Warrior moulder in his fhroud, 
 E'er from her trump the heav'n-breath'd accents rife. 
 
 That lift the Hero from the fighting croud. 
 Is it his grafp of Empire to extend ? 
 
 To curb the fury of infulting foes ? 
 Ambition, ccafc : the idle contefl end : 
 
 'Tis but a Kingdom thou canft win or lofe. 
 And why muft murder'd myriads lole their all, 
 
 (If Life be all) why defolation lour, 
 With famifh'd frown, on this affrighted ball, 
 
 That thou may 'ft flame the meteor of an hour ? 
 
 Go
 
 [ " ] 
 
 Go wifer ye, that flutter Life away, 
 
 Crown with the manthng Juice the goblet high ; 
 Weave the Hght dance, with feftive freedom gay. 
 
 And Uve your moment, flnce the next ye die. 
 Yet know, vain Scepticks, know, th' Almighty mind, 
 
 Who breath'd on Man a portion of his fire. 
 Bad his free Soul, by earth nor time confin'd. 
 
 To Heav'n, to Immortality afpire. 
 Nor fhall the Pile of Hope, his Mercy rear'd, 
 
 By vain Philofophy be e'er deflroy'd: 
 Eternity, by all or wifh'd or fear'd. 
 
 Shall be by all or fuffer'd or enjoy'd. 
 
 Written in 1760. 
 
 FINIS.
 
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