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MISCELLANIES, 
 
 IN VERSE AND PROSE, 
 
 ENGLISH AND LATIN, 
 
 BY THE LATE 
 
 ANTHONY CHAMPION, 
 
 Of the Middle Temple, Esquire. 
 
 PUBLISHED 
 
 FROM THE ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPTS 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM HENRY LORD LYTTELTON. 
 
 =lLontiatt : 
 
 PRINTED BY T. BENSLEY, BOLT-COURT, 
 FOR J. WHITE, FLEET-STREET. 
 
 1801. 
 
Cf^ì 
 
 ili C^^ X 
 
 Anthony Champion, Esq. Author 
 of these Miscellanies, was the son of 
 Peter Champion, a gentleman of an an- 
 cient and respectable family, seated at 
 St. Columb in Cornwall, who acquired 
 a considerable fortune as a merchant at 
 Leghorn: he was born February the 5th, 
 1724-5, at Croydon in Surrey, and re- 
 ceived his first instruction in the Greek 
 and Latin languages at Cheam School in 
 that county; from whence in 1739 he 
 was removed to Eton, and in February 
 1 742 became a memberof the University 
 of Oxford; having been placed at St. 
 Mary Hall, under the care of the Rev. 
 Walter Harte, a celebrated tutor, se- 
 lected at a later period by the Earl of 
 Chesterfield to finish his son Mr. Stan- 
 hope's education in classical literature. 
 After having passed two years at Ox- 
 ford, he was entered as a student of law 
 at the Middle Temple, where he conti- 
 nued to reside to the day of his decease; 
 
 M.<80i^04 
 
IV 
 
 and was a Bencher of that Society, to 
 which he bequeathed One Thousand 
 Pounds. He served in two ParUaments; 
 having been elected in 1/54 for the Bo- 
 rough of St. Germans, and in 1761 for 
 Liskard, in Cornwall: but the same great 
 modesty and reserve restrained him from 
 displaying the powers of his very dis- 
 cerning and enlightened mind in that il- 
 lustrious assembly, which prevented him 
 also from communicating to the world 
 those effusions of his rich and luxuriant 
 vein of Poetry, that are now submitted 
 to the judgment of the Public. 
 
 He died the 2 2d of February in the 
 present year, beloved and lamented by 
 all who were acquainted with the bright- 
 ness of his genius, his taste for the finer 
 arts, his various and extensive learning, 
 and the still more valuable qualities of 
 his warm and benevolent heart. 
 
 Hagley Park, 1801. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Epistle to William Henry Lyttelton, Esq Page 1 
 
 Verses presented to a young Lady with a Silk 
 
 Handkerchief 11 
 
 In Greenwich Park 13 
 
 From Voltaire 17 
 
 The Wish 18 
 
 Lines by the Author in the person of a Lady of 
 
 whom he was enamoured 21 
 
 Sonetto di Felice Zappi 25 
 
 Translation of ditto 26 
 
 Translation from Fracastorius 2/ 
 
 A Song 29 
 
 Address to Health 31 
 
 To a Lady by her friends called Fairy 34 
 
 Address to the Muses 37 
 
 Sonnet 33 
 
 To *^**** 39 
 
 To Louisa 41 
 
 Elegy on the Death of the Rev. Francis Coventry . . 44 
 To a Friend at Buxton 46 
 
VI 
 
 To a Friend : the scene Dove-dale, Derbyshire .... 48 
 
 A Character 53 
 
 Imitation from Horace 56 
 
 To a Lady 58 
 
 Greek Verses 5Q 
 
 Imitation of ditto 60 
 
 To ****** 6l 
 
 Sonetto di Orazio Petrochi 62 
 
 English Translation, intitled Stonehenge 63 
 
 A Fragment 64 
 
 Bleaching 68 
 
 Scotland 70 
 
 From a Traveller in Wales yg 
 
 On the Ruins of Bradgate-house 89 
 
 Stanzas by Severn side gd 
 
 Empire of Love, a philosophical poem 99 
 
 In Greenwich Park 137 
 
 On Sir Isaac Newton's Monument, &c 140 
 
 Champion Francisco Coventrio suo S 142 
 
 Ad Amicum Franciscum Coventry 146 
 
 An Ode 150 
 
 Champion Lytteltoni suo S 153 
 
 Miserere equi Angli, &:c 154 
 
 On Bourne's Poems 158 
 
POEMS. 
 
 TO 
 
 W. H. LYTTELTON, ESQ. 
 
 \VKITTEN BY THE AXITHOR IN THE NINETEENTH YEAR 
 OF HIS AGE. 
 
 Since now each slow-revolving day and night. 
 And lonely walks to poetry invite, 
 And sweet reflection, offspring sure of ease, 
 Recalls each joy that once had charms to please, 
 No more the small, the duteous task refuse, 
 Oh ! ever grateful, though unskilful muse ! 
 Thy humble voice to parent Eton raise, 
 She first inspir'd thy notes; now claims thy lays: 
 She bade, my friend, congenial souls agree, 
 And gave each blessing when she gave me thee. 
 To thee sincere this artless verse I send; 
 Oh ! now, if ever, call forth all the friend ! 
 Though undeserv'd, indulge one honest smile, 
 And for the subject's sake approve my toil. 
 
Hail ! learned trees ! Hail ! much-frequented 
 grove ! 
 The verdant witness of our growing love. 
 There have we oft in bless'd communion stray 'd, 
 Or sweetly pensive sate, or sportive play'd; 
 There on the mossy bank with soft surprise 
 Sleep airy light has clos'd our weary eyes, 
 Lull'd by the liquid lapse of oozy Thames, 
 Or breeze responsive to his murm'ring streams. 
 Oh ! could I but to worthy verse impart 
 The strong idea glowing in my heart, 
 No brighter spot should stately Oxford see, 
 And Academus' grove should yield to thee. 
 
 Bless'd were those days, when Censure's en- 
 vious rage 
 Spar'd the gay follies of a tender age; 
 Though oft too weak hot passions to restrain, 
 Our feeble reason dropp'd the slacken'd rein. 
 For each unguarded act we pleaded school, 
 Trifled with grace, and licens'd play'd the fool. 
 Thus pleas'd and pleasing, unrestrain'd and gay, 
 We spent the morning of our short-liv'd day; 
 
No ruffling storms disturb'd the still serene, 
 No gust of passion nor the clouds of spleen. 
 Each happy moment, wing'd with joy refin'd, 
 Infus'd fresh raptures on the op'ning mind, 
 Youth's soft emotions, and heartfelt delight, 
 Such as the muse and infant love excite; 
 With such fair Learning ev'ry bosom warms, 
 While sweet reluctance brightens all her charms; 
 Not won unsought for, but with kind delay 
 Profuse each latent beauty to display. 
 Ten thousand various shapes she wore M^ith ease, 
 Form'd in each various shape t' instruct and please; 
 Now a blithe muse, she led the past'ral train, 
 Now arms and heroes sung in lofty strain. 
 Majestic now she wag'd the wordy war. 
 And brought her fav'rite Tully to the bar, 
 Pour'd the big tide of eloquence along, 
 Without o'erflowing full, and without fury strong. 
 The list'ning throng transported seems to hear, 
 And sounds harmonious charm each ravish'd ear, 
 How ardent words our emulation raise, 
 And ev'ry bosom glows with thirst of praise* 
 
While the bright goddess points the road to fame, 
 And her celestial voice inspires the gen'rous flame; 
 ' Go, sons, Avhere Virtue, where Ambition calls;' 
 Then shews great Edward's star that beams on 
 
 Windsor's walls. 
 What though where Vandal's ^ lucid streams arise, 
 The genial sun first charm'd my infant eyes, 
 To thee, my more than native place, I owe 
 Whate'er, though little, yet whate'er I know: 
 To thee what aid the muse propitious lends, 
 To thee the dearest and the best of friends; 
 For him thou may 'st with pride thy offspring claim, 
 His youthful heart exults at Eton's name. 
 Dear to the muse he too shall join his lays, 
 And tune his grateful voice to George's ^ praise; 
 Who without grief was ne'er inur'd to grieve, 
 Or caus'd a tear to flow, or sigh to heave. 
 Humanely learn'd, indulgently severe. 
 He claim'd a filial awe, not servile fear. 
 His mild dominion grateful numbers own, 
 And pious Henry looks with transport down, 
 
 « Croydon. d Head master of Eton school. 
 
Arid views the nursling of his royal hand 
 Enrich with knowledge and adorn the land. 
 
 Oh ! flourish long ! these arts be ever thine, 
 Fair Eton, fav'rite of the tuneful nine; 
 To deep implant rich Wisdom's fertile root. 
 Disclose the bud, mature the rising fruit: 
 To plume the pinions of the tender soul, 
 And wing the mind to reach its distant goal; 
 Teach youth that virtue is man's worthiest aim: 
 Learning to solid virtue is the same 
 As the thin setting to the lucid gem. 
 This virtue's handmaid gives her graceful air, 
 And makes the fairest goddess still more fair: 
 Virtue, AV'hich can in meanest garb delight, 
 Attir'd by learning, shines divinely bright. 
 Oh ! let us not, by worldly views betray'd, 
 Ne2:lect the mistress while we court the maid ! 
 
 When human wisdom sole employs the breast, 
 'Tis but a learned ignorance at best : 
 Like Sodom's apples, beauteous to be seen, 
 All shew without, all emptiness within: 
 A current coin at most for fourscore years, 
 Which then, like fairy-money, disappears. 
 
Where is the profit, friend, O where the praise 
 Of twice ten thousand studious nights and days, 
 Unless Heaven's road through Learning's paths 
 
 we keep, 
 And Virtue's temple croAvn Parnassus' steep? 
 Learning transmits us fair to latest time, 
 To heaven bright Virtue points the view sublime, 
 Our heart enlarges, opes our mental eye, 
 And makes us dare to live before we die. 
 
 What is this span of fourscore fleeting years? 
 A darksome vale of misery and tears: 
 Black death, beset with airy fears and dread, 
 Bounds the short prospect with impending shade. 
 Few the thick gloom can pierce Avith eagle eyes. 
 And ken the glories of th distant skies. 
 The rest a grov'ling, dull, fantastic crew, 
 E'en eaith itself through darkened optics view. 
 Deceitful mediums lessen and remove 
 Wliate'er divine should most engage our love. 
 Mere human objects charm mistaken eyes 
 M'itli borrowed brightness and fictitious size; 
 But when this glare, which blinds our mortal sight, 
 Shall yield to beams of pure celestial light, 
 
How diff 'rent will each object then be seen ! 
 How shameful triumphs ! victory how mean ! 
 When pride abash'd shall hide its hated head, 
 And low ambition grieve the wastes it made, 
 And ev'ry science, ev'ry art, shall fade. 
 Then shall great Newton that reward receive 
 Which Virtue only to her friends can give; 
 Not that o'er worlds he sent his piercing eye. 
 Or trac'd the flaming comet through the sky; 
 He saw, he heard, the world's stupendous frame 
 A God ! a God ! with silent voice proclaim ; 
 And, as his virtue with his learning grew, 
 His Maker best ador'd when most he knew. 
 His learning dead beneath the fun'ral stone, 
 Fair Virtue now receives her joyful son; 
 To her he omts the bright ethereal crown : 
 Who sole in worth and beauty still the same, 
 Survives the fatal universal flame. 
 Such now, as erst, ere Nature's early birth. 
 Ere the dread Father spake creation forth; 
 While yet no seraph holy raptures fir'd. 
 Nor Avarm devotion earth-born breasts inspir'd ; 
 
Divine assessor of th' Almighty's tlirone 
 
 Ihe beauteous queen in radiant colours shone. 
 
 Hail, powerful Virtue ! goddess heav'nly bright, 
 Pure emanation of th' eternal light: 
 Thee, when Jehovah to the centre hurl'd 
 The deep foundations of the rising world, 
 To winds and storms declared his firm decree, 
 And fix'd the barriers of th' obedient sea, 
 lie sent in mercy from the bless'd abodes 
 T' exalt his new-made creatures into gods; 
 To chase by glorious hopes each human grief, 
 And give the much-atflicted soul relief. 
 Hence, though with thousand various ills opprest, 
 The rapt'rous transport in the good man's breast; 
 Hence, when with all his dreadful pomp beset, 
 The king of terrors claims the fatal debt, 
 No word of anxious doubt or mean despair. 
 No unbecoming deed that argues fear; 
 But at the close of the wcll-labour'd scene 
 Reason triumphant, and the soul serene. 
 
 Place me where rattling hail and stormy rains, 
 And parching cold, infest the northern plains, 
 
Where ne'er with plenty teem'd all -bounteous 
 
 earth, 
 Nor genial suns gave smiling verdure birth; 
 Let poverty and ign'rance be my lot, 
 Of all forgetful, and by all forgot; 
 If thou, fair Virtue, deign my heart to warm. 
 With thee the barren rocks and dreary desarts 
 
 charm : 
 In those lone climes if thou inspire my lays, 
 The barren rocks should learn my Maker's praise; 
 With that great theme I'd soothe th' inclement air, 
 And pour out all my sold in ardent prayer. 
 And oh ! whatever be my future doom, 
 From op'ning manhood to the silent tomb. 
 Whether at court on kings and slaves to gaze. 
 Or tread fatigu'd the law's perplexing maze ; 
 Whether the tranquil calm or stormy rage 
 Await the ev'ning of declining age, 
 From thee, fair A'^irtue, never let me stray; 
 Oh ! fix my footsteps on life's slipp'r}^ way ! 
 Direct each aim in truth's high open road 
 To serve my prince, my country, and my God^ 
 
10 
 
 Contented let me live, contented die, 
 When the last gasp dissolves each human tie, 
 Life's wanton pride and fancied bliss is o'er, 
 And Lyttelton and Eton please no more. 
 
 AxT. Champion 
 
 Croydon, August 22, 1 /43. 
 
11 
 
 WITH A HANDKERCHIEF 
 
 PRESENTED TO 
 
 A YOUNG LADY. 
 
 Go, happy silk, and humbly sue to shade 
 The tender bosom of the beauteous maid; 
 Her charms from hnvless vulgar eyes remove, 
 Yet not exclude the sacred glance of love. 
 Around her rosy neck ambitious cleave, 
 And borrow graces which thou canst not give. 
 E'en Psyche's breast shall wanton Cupid fly, 
 And in thy favorite folds enamour'd lie. 
 Oh ! may'st thou ne'er with lab'ring sorrow heave, 
 Nor from her eyes the falling tear receive; 
 But still beneath thy shade may inward peace 
 Dwell, and compose her gentle soul to ease! 
 There may each gay, each soft emotion reign. 
 Nought painful enter, save love's pleasing pain. 
 
 1744. A. C. 
 
12 
 
 Scripsit amans, amens : base sanus carmina daninat, 
 Turpiter et domina succubuisse pudet. 
 
 Sed tamen est aliqiiid, miseras fregisse catenas, 
 Tollere et excusso libera colla jugo. 
 
13 
 
 In GREENWICH PARK. 1748. 
 
 Hail! genius of this hallow'd grove, 
 The destin'd scene of infant love; 
 Won by the charm thy airs diffuse, 
 Lo ! once again the youthful muse, 
 Whose long neglected voice had ceas'd 
 To whisper through my rebel breast, 
 Still deigns to meet me in thy shade, 
 Where erst that sweet ingenuous maid 
 Then first beheld and lov'd, the fair Louisa stray 'd. 
 
 In yon embow'ring grove's recess 
 (That hour I oft recall and bless). 
 Half shaded by the envious wood 
 The sweetly pensive charmer stood ; 
 E'en now I see her form arise, 
 'Twas then a stranger to my eyes; 
 
14 
 
 But ah ! no stranger to my breast ! 
 My conscious heart her right confess'd, 
 And my glad soul receiv'd the love -directed 
 guest. 
 
 For trust the muse, th' Idalian queen 
 Deep in Elysium's sacred scene, 
 Ere yet the genius of our birth 
 Call'd us to tread this upper earth, 
 Pair'd evVy soft congenial mind, 
 And all their future loves assign'd: 
 Hence each untaught its fellow knows. 
 At once th' instinctive passion glows. 
 And thro' th' admiring breast the sweet attraction 
 flows. 
 
 But chief, unless I fondly dream, 
 Enchanted with the pleasing theme, 
 Our equal hearts she seal'd her own, 
 And bound them with her golden zone; 
 Then wrote it in the book of love, 
 That they should meet and join above; 
 
15 
 
 Inform'd alike with soft desire, 
 And temper'd with the purest fire, 
 Which sympathy and hope ineifable inspire. 
 
 Alas ! great queen, my charming maid. 
 Though nurs'd beneath thy myrtle's shade 
 Not yet thy soft'ning influence feels, 
 Nor yet thy inborn fire reveals; 
 But deaf to all my tender vows. 
 Cold friendship's claim alone allows. 
 O Love ! I make thee no request 
 To violate her gentle breast, 
 For always what she wills is wisest, kindest, best. 
 
 Such lenient skill my cares beguiles, 
 That e'en despair relents and smiles; 
 No other nymph love's golden prize 
 So sweetly yields as she denies. 
 O Love, prolong my blissful pain ! 
 Oh! stricter bind thy magic chain; 
 Our hearts in mutual passion join: 
 If that surpass thy pow'r divine, 
 Add all her share at least of tenderness to mine. 
 
16 
 
 Ah ! lov'd in youth and beauty's bloom, 
 My soul shall haunt thy future tomb; 
 And if the clay-cold hand of time 
 E'er damp my flame and blast thy prime, 
 Beholding then thy alter'd brow, 
 The tear of fond esteem shall flow, 
 While memory each charm supplies, 
 Lights all the lustre in thine eyes. 
 Bids thy divinest smile and purest blush arise. 
 
 Thy sweetness, elegance, and grace, 
 Shall still survive thy faded face ; 
 And e'en when age itself is past, 
 Love's dying embers glow at last; 
 Nor shall the torch of Paphian fire 
 But with the lamp of life expire: 
 That mournful theme, my muse, forbear, 
 Our last farewell and mutual prayer; 
 Here droop thy faultering wing and shed the 
 silent tear. 
 
17 
 
 FROM VOLTAIRE. 
 
 That mind adorn'd with ev'ry pleasing art, 
 Might beauty's all-seducing aid despise; 
 Yet e'en an idiot could enslave my heart, 
 Had the fair idiot those enchanting eyes. 
 
 Ah! still imperfect: if thou canst not love, 
 These heav'nly graces are bestow'd in vain; 
 One tender sentiment is far above 
 Beauty and wit, with all their sprightly train. 
 
 1748. 
 
18 
 
 THE WISH. 
 
 Oh ! could my verse but skilful as sincere 
 Express the love which taught me all my art, 
 This feeble verse which sooths her partial ear 
 Ere now perhaps had touch'd Louisa's heart. 
 
 From passion once poetic rapture came, 
 Ne'er did the nine their sacred aid refuse; 
 Each am'rous lip was tipt with hallow'd flame. 
 The warmest lover had the sweetest muse. 
 
 But now no breast th' inspiring influence feels, 
 Ungraceful silence dwells on ev'ry tongue; 
 No melting lay the finer pain reveals. 
 And each sublimer transport dies unsung. 
 
 Venus, alas ! has broke the silver lyre. 
 Which erst her elegant Tibullus strung, 
 And love-lorn Hammond " tun'd to soft desire, 
 Then dying, on a faded myrtle hung. 
 •^ See his Love Elegies. 
 
19 
 
 'Twas then the goddess wept an angry tear, 
 Then first the queen of smiles indignant frown'd, 
 Ey'd the harsh nymph... the lover's mournful bier... 
 And dash'd his tuneful silver to the ground. 
 
 What ! could his softest accents breathe in vain, 
 Ungentle maid! and hapless youth! she cries: 
 Oh ! cease, for ever cease, that heav'nly strain, 
 Since Delia hears not, and my poet dies ! 
 
 These venal days each talent have profan'd, 
 The mind with ev'ry nobler sense is sold. 
 And love and love-taught harmony disdain'd 
 For the mean thirst of vanities and gold. 
 
 Yet, Venus, yet, the charming maid I sing, 
 Thou know'st, no sordid pride or interest sways : 
 Oh! may the muse refit that injur'd string! 
 So shall Louisa rival Delia's praise. 
 
 My tongue then, faithful to the teeming breast, 
 Shall all my love and all her worth display; 
 
20 
 
 Each strong emotion glow with warmth express'd, 
 Nor languid strains the nicer sense betray. 
 
 Oh ! who can tell, as years of fondness roll, 
 As the verse warms with all that love inspires, 
 In some bless VI hour her sympathizing soul 
 May catch the spark, and kindle with my fires ! 
 
 Then, goddess, if thy myrtle wreathe my brows, 
 Around the lyre that grateful wreath shall twine; 
 And thus, with tender sighs and ardent vows. 
 In triumph oifer'd grace thy honoured shrine. 
 
 1748-9. 
 
21 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR, 
 
 IN THE PERSON OF A LADY 
 
 OF WHOM HE WAS ENAMOURED, 
 
 Too well those lines the fatal truth declare, 
 Which long Eve known, yet now I blush to hear! 
 But say, what hope? thy fond ill-fated love, 
 What can it hope, tho' mutual it should prove? 
 This little form is fair in vain for you. 
 In vain for me thy honest heart is true; 
 For wouldst thou fix dishonour on my name, 
 And give me up to penitence and shame? 
 Or shield my honour with the name of ^vìfe, 
 And make me a poor virtuous wretch for life? 
 Couldst thou submit to wear the nuptial chain, 
 Too sure a cure for all thy present pain, 
 No saifron robe for us the godhead wears. 
 His torch inverted, and his face in tears. 
 
22 
 
 Though ev'ry softer wish were amply crown'd, 
 Love soon would cease to smile where Fortune 
 
 frown'd ; 
 Then would thy soul my fond consent deplore, 
 And blame what it solicited before; 
 Thy own exhausted, would reproach my truth, 
 And say I had undone thy blinded youth ; 
 That I had damp'd ambition's noble flame, 
 Eclips'd thy talents, and obscur'd thy name; 
 To madrigals and odes thy wit confin'd, 
 That might in senates or in courts have shin'dj 
 Gloriously active in thy country's cause, 
 Asserted freedom, or enacted laws. 
 Or say thou hadst been negatively kind, 
 Inwardly mournVl, and silently repin'd, 
 The jealous demons in my own fond breast 
 Would all these thoughts incessantly suggest, 
 And tell what sense must feel, that pity had sup- 
 press 'd : 
 Yet added grief my apprehension fills, 
 If there can be addition to those ills, 
 When they shall say, whose harsh reproof I dread, 
 ' 'Tis thy own fault, thy folly on thy head:' 
 
23 
 
 Age knows not to allow for thoughtless youth, 
 Nor pity tenderness, nor honour truth; 
 Holds it romantic to confess a heart. 
 And says those virgins act a wiser part 
 Who hospitals and bedlams would explore, 
 Could rich men there be found; and only shun 
 
 the poor; 
 Who legal prostitutes, the batter'd rake 
 Or wealthier booby to their bosoms take, 
 And, if avenging Heaven permits increase, 
 People the Av^orld with folly and disease: 
 The title deeds and rent-roll only wed, 
 And the best bidder mounts the venal bed; 
 While their grave aunts and formal sires approve 
 This nuptial sale, and auction for their love: 
 And if regard to sense or worth be shown, 
 That poor degenerate child her friends disown, 
 Who dares to deviate, by a virtuous choice, 
 From her great name's hereditary voice. 
 These scenes my prudence ushers to my mind, 
 Of all the storms and quicksands I shall find. 
 If I embark upon this summer sea. 
 Where flatt'ry smooths, and pleasure gilds the way. 
 
24 
 
 Had oui' ill fate ne'er blown this dang'rous flame 
 Beyond the limits of a friend's cold name, 
 I might upon that score thy love receive, 
 And with that guiltless name my own deceive. 
 That commerce now in vain you recommend. 
 I dread the silent lover in the friend. 
 Of ignorance I want the poor excuse. 
 And know I both must take, or both refuse. 
 Hear then the firm, the safe resolve I make, 
 Xe"er to encourage what I must forsake. 
 Whilst other maids a shameless path pursue. 
 Neither to honour nor to virtue true, 
 And proud to swell the triumphs of their eyes. 
 Exult in love from lovers they despise, 
 Their maxims all revers'd I mean to prove. 
 And though I like the lover, quit the love. 
 
25 
 
 SONETTO DI FELICE ZAPPI. 
 
 Quand io men vo verso l'Ascrea montagna, 
 Mi si aecoppia la Gloria al destro fianco; 
 Ella da spirti al cor, forza al pie stanco, 
 E dice, ' Andiam...ch' io ti sarò compagna.' 
 Ma per la lunga inospita campagna 
 Mi si aggiunge l'Invidia al lato manco, 
 E dice, Anch' io son teco...al labbro bianco 
 Veggo il velen, che nel suo cor si stagna. 
 Che far dcgg' io?. ..Se indietro io volgo i passi, 
 So che Invidia mi lassa, e m' abbandona; 
 Ma poi fia che la Gloria ancor mi lassi: 
 Con ambe andar risolvo alla suprema 
 Cima del monte... una mi dia corona, 
 E l'altra il vegga, e si contorca, e frema. 
 
26 
 
 TRANSLATION OF A SONNET 
 
 FROM FELICE ZAPPI. 
 
 Slow while I climb Parnassus' lofty seat 
 Bright Glory joins me on my dexter side; 
 She cheers my spirits, nerves my fault'ring feet, 
 And cries, 'Come on... thy comrade I, and guide. 
 We mount; but ere we gain th" aerial scene, 
 Close on my left pale Envy soon 1 find : 
 She too my march attends; her livid mien 
 And venom'd lip betray her canker'd mind. 
 How then resolve?... If back my course I bend, 
 This fiend, I know, departs... but not the fiend 
 Alone, the goddess too will take her flight. 
 Rather with both yon cliff sublime I dare 
 Ascend, though hard. ..let Glory crown me tliere, 
 And Envy writhe in torture at the sight. 
 
27 
 
 TRANSLATION FROM FRACASTORIUS. 
 
 Ipse ego Coenomanùm memini, &c. Siphylis. 
 
 His crystal stream where Sebine Ollia leads 
 In slow meanders through the fertile meads, 
 A youth once flourish'd of distinguish'd fame, 
 And all Ausonia heard and bless'd his name. 
 Noble and rich, in youth and beauty's prime, 
 He scornVl in sloth to waste life's active time: 
 'Twas his delight his flowing blood to warm, 
 And hardy limbs with manly sports to form. 
 In the gay helm and glitfring arms to shine, 
 Or with the bit the foaming steed confine; 
 With active force his savage foe subdue. 
 Or the fleet stag with rival speed pursue. 
 For him the nymphs of Po\s and Ollia's flood. 
 The nymphs that range the plains or haunt the 
 
 wood, 
 Languish;... on him each tender wish employ, 
 And sigh in secret for the beauteous boy. 
 
28 
 
 Perhaps not vainly some neglected maid 
 Implor'd Heaven's vengeance on his faithless head. 
 For lo ! not fearing so severe a fate, 
 In confidence of strength and youth elate, 
 Pale sickness struck him with afflictive pain, 
 Seiz'd ev'ry limb, and tainted ev'ry vein. 
 A dire disease! such as by Heaven's decree 
 The past ne'er saw, nor future age shall see. 
 The poison soon his vital frame pervades. 
 The blooming spring of youth and vigour fades: 
 The spreading bane his putrid limbs distains, 
 And o'er his soul black melancholy reigns. 
 See on his face dire gangrene ulcers rise, 
 And slow consume those once love-darting eyes: 
 His nostrils with corroding wounds decay, 
 And the whole man in anguish rots away. 
 For hiui the nymphs of Po's and Ollia's flood. 
 The nymphs that range the plains or haunt the 
 
 wood. 
 For him the neighboring Alps and livers moan, 
 And Scbine's lake profound nplu';n"d a hollow 
 
 irroan. 
 
29 
 
 A SONG. 
 
 I. 
 Cease thy fond hopes, poor wretch! to love, 
 
 Content and grieve alone; 
 Alas ! thy Jidia's woe would prove 
 
 More torment than thine own. 
 II. 
 No more let passion's flatt'ring dream 
 
 Sooth thy deluded breast, 
 Since e'en thy love, no selfish flame, 
 
 Consents not to be blest. 
 III. 
 Couldst thou with joy distress'd, tho' kind. 
 
 Behold thy darling maid ? 
 Or see, o'er fond affection's smile, 
 
 The tear of anguish shed? 
 
30 
 
 IV. 
 
 Ah ! seek not, by her slightest pain, 
 
 Thy sharpest to remove; 
 Nor ask thou to be lov'd again... 
 
 Ask only leave to love. 
 
 V. 
 
 Her bliss since never thou must share, 
 May she ne'er taste thy woe; 
 
 But blessings great as thy despair 
 May Heaven on her bestow. 
 
31 
 
 ADDRESS TO HEALTH. 
 
 Come, rosy Health, blithe daughter of the skies, 
 And o'er this virgin wave thy healing wing; 
 Thy pow'r can animate no brighter eyes, 
 No purer roses bloom in all thy spring. 
 
 Oh ! chase Disease, that baleful fiend, away, 
 Whose envy loves to blast thy choicest store; 
 The foul and scornful be her ruthless prey; 
 Thou on the fair and kind thy blessings pour. 
 
 Come, in thy hand the smiles and pleasures lead, 
 And young- ey'd mirth, thy progeny divine; 
 Let these sweet graces deck my lovely maid. 
 Not Hebe shall with equal lustre shine. 
 
 Do thou the gay, the social sense inspire, 
 Each sprightly decency, each pleasing art, 
 
32 
 
 Good-humour'd wit, and innocent desire, 
 
 To charm the fancy and to melt the heart. 
 
 Thus o'er liis sleeping fair th' embolden'd swain 
 PourVl forth his soul in prayer and praise sincere r 
 Waking, her modest ear this artless strain 
 Would think too flatt'ring, and refuse to hear. 
 
 O Silence ! oft will I invoke thy pow'r, 
 Propitious still to the mute vows of love, 
 To brood in darkness o'er th' unruffled hour 
 Smooth as the pinions of the slumbering dove. 
 
 Sweet maid, upon thy lover's faithful breast, 
 Secure awhile, thy languid head repose ; 
 E'en pain and sickness there may sink to rest, 
 Nor shall those drooping eyes refuse to close. 
 
 Thy raptur'd lover, gazing on his fair 
 With looks of cordial love and dear delight, 
 Shall watch thee with thy guardian angel's care, 
 Nor sleepless grudge to waste the live-long night. - 
 
53 
 
 And sure my vital breath should sooner cease 
 Than, rudely drawn, disturb her gentle sleep; 
 Each sigh of love shall love itself suppress, 
 And bid my heart its calmest measures keep. 
 
 Sleep on, sweet maid, and may thy dreams be kind, 
 
 o recompense thy lover's anxious care; 
 No image sure but his can fill thy mind, 
 Since lawless fancy has no empire there. 
 
 D 
 
34 
 
 TO A LADY, 
 
 BY HER FRIENDS CALLED FAIRY. 
 
 Now vernal zephyrs whisper through the trees, &:c, 
 
 O COME, my Fairy! 'tis thy shepherd calls. 
 Thy Strephon bids thee leave these fated walls, 
 Won by thy bright, yet sweet alluring eye. 
 For thee from falsehood, crowds, and dust I fly, 
 Pattern of ancient truth and constancy. 
 O quit this dang'rous park, this air impure. 
 Not e'en for innocence like ours secure ! 
 Fond of new conquests where each fair one roves, 
 And one short month sees twelve succeedino- loves. 
 Such crimes may draw a gen'ral vengeance down... 
 No wonder earthquakes '' shake this guilty town. 
 Haste then, my fair, my Fairy, haste and see 
 What rural pleasures are in store for thee. 
 Not all Arcadia boasts so soft a scene. 
 No rill so purling, and no mead so green: 
 
 ^ Two earthquakes were felt in London in the year 1 754, 
 
35 
 
 A flock so lovely, of so Mhite a breed, 
 Ne'er did Amintas or Pastora feed. 
 To please thee too my boxen fmte I bring, 
 Alternate will I play, alternate sing. 
 
 come, my Fairy ! and thy Strephon join, 
 
 The mead, the sheep, the shepherd, all are thine. 
 What joy beneath the spreading beachen shade, 
 On the soft herbage. Nature's carpet, laid! 
 To lead our flocks, and spend the pleasing day 
 In innocent delights and rural play. 
 Let other swains, to looser m.irth resign'd, 
 Waste the fond hours in dalliance unrefin'd; 
 Thy swain a purer bliss aspires to prove. 
 The harmless badinage of inoffensive love. 
 To fill thy arms, a lovely smiling lamb 
 
 1 wean already from its bleating dam: 
 Compar'd with this thou soon wilt cease to prize 
 E'en Juba's iv'ry snags and radiant eyes: 
 
 This shall my Fairy in her bosom place, 
 And press with kisses sweet its woolly face; 
 Vv'arm from the wool Til steal each balmy kiss; 
 Condemn me, Fairy, if I do amiss. 
 
36 
 
 Come then, my fair, my Fairy, come away, 
 Nor mind Avhate'er thy sister's spite can say; 
 Her envy would delay thy ardent haste, 
 And spoil that happiness she scorn'd to taste; 
 For let thy shepherd own with truth sincere 
 His humble cottage first was built for her. 
 IVIaria once I hop'd would deign to bless 
 A simple swain, and grace this sweet recess; 
 Hers was design'd that neat Italian chair, 
 And China sent this bowl to serve the fair; 
 Hers were those foreign fruits, a golden store 
 From genial Seville's orange-scented shore. 
 In fancy oft reclining at her feet, 
 I quaff 'd the cool, the pastoral sherbet: 
 But soon I found these flatt'ring hopes were vain, 
 Far different scenes th' inconstant nymph detain, 
 Far from the rural shade and flow'ry plain. 
 
37 
 
 ADDRESS TO THE MUSES. 
 
 Sisters of the sacred nine. 
 
 Who bid the painter's genius glow, 
 And oft ennobhng Nature's form divine, 
 Dip your bright pencils in the heav'nly bow, 
 
 Say, shall Campania's blasted plain, 
 
 By tyrant superstition sway'd. 
 
 Still your enchanted steps detain 
 
 Wand'ring in the wither'd shade? 
 Still must ye bend beneath the papal yoke, 
 Doom'd to the task which tasteless priests ordain, 
 
 To deck some saint's blasphemous shrine, 
 Or altar's pagan pride with pageants vain. 
 And impious beauties, destin'd soon to fade? 
 
 While the dim taper's livid smoke 
 And ever-curling clouds of incense choke 
 The mimic splendors of the blest abode, 
 Sully th' immaculate maid and the transfigurdgod. 
 
38 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 When jealous fancy fram'd unreal woes, 
 Oft Avould my fair each fond complaint reprove, 
 And sweetly bid me spare her heart's repose, 
 Where friendship felt a sympathy like love. 
 
 Oh ! if Louisa grieves when I complain, 
 Howdaresshe thoughtless cause one anxious care? 
 How venture e'er to give a needless pain 
 Which her own soft humanity must share? 
 
 One gentle line might ev'ry fear disarm; 
 Her hand, alas! the wonted pledge denies: 
 One tender glance credulity might charm, 
 Yet love in vain explores those beauteous eyes. 
 
 Ah! rashly blame not thy too charming friend, 
 Wliom gratitude and reason bid thee trust; 
 Whatc'er hard f^ite thy luckless love attend, 
 She ne'er can prove ungen'rous or unjust. 
 
39 
 
 To 
 
 TV* * ^F ^ ^ •?(* ^ 
 
 Female, who durst profane this hallow'd hour, 
 And unpropitious blast my promis'd joy, 
 What bitter prayers shall weary Cupid's powV, 
 Thee and thy odious visits to destroy? 
 
 Shall sickness chain thee to thy hated home, 
 Nor cards nor scandal thy sad nights compose, 
 Or midst some public scene thy freshest bloom 
 Fade on thy cheek, and glow upon thy nose? 
 
 When Love provok'd inflicts his keenest pain, 
 Inventive vengeance aids his ruthless ire, 
 Not deeper groanings rend the skies in vain 
 When Turkish slaves in sharpest pangs expire. 
 
 Of a whole age one dove-wing'd hour was mine, 
 That hour thy fell rapacious talons seize : 
 May expectations disappointments join, 
 And, mixt by furies, poison all thy peace. 
 
40 
 
 May flatt'ring hope, in orient light array 'd, 
 Just dawn upon thee roseate and serene, 
 Then all at once the gay delusion fade, 
 And black despair deform the varied scene. 
 
 Thus Indignation breathes her vow severe; 
 The winds respect it, and my justice own... 
 The injured lover's and the poor man's prayer 
 Ascend entire to Jove's eternal throne. 
 
 Rash man! perhaps I curse Louisa's friend; 
 Such harsh revenge will hurt her gentle heart. 
 Oh ! if these lines my lovely maid offend. 
 Kind Heaven, to blessings ev'ry curse convert. 
 
41 
 
 TO LOUISA. 
 
 Long, my Louisa, has this heart been thine, 
 And many a transport felt and many a pain; 
 Yet never full with bliss has grown supine, 
 Nor struggled once to burst the galling chain. 
 
 For ever constant thine it shall endure, 
 And trust those arts which hapless lovers know 
 To sooth the real griefs they cannot cure, 
 And turn to rapture ev'ry fancied woe. 
 
 God of domestic sweets, humane and mild, 
 Attend thou genuine and immortal Love ! 
 Unlike the queen of beauty's short-liv'd child, 
 Train'd to sly mischiefs in th' Idalian grove. 
 
 Oh ! duteous offspring of esteem sincere, 
 Whose soul is virtue, confidence, and joy ! 
 Not wild Avith hope, nor sunk with servile fear, 
 No rigours Avaste thee, and no raptures cloy. 
 
42 
 
 Oh ! may thy sacred torch eternal glow ! 
 Each meaner fire, each vulgar object fade : 
 Ah ! what reward can this poor world bestow 
 To pay the loss of one deserving maid ! 
 
 Not friendship, fame, or fortune, here suffice 
 With all their wreaths in one bright garland joined ; 
 For these her beauty I might cease to prize, 
 Yet these I slight for that accomplished mind. 
 
 Should Hymen offer me some other fair, 
 Ah ! how with transport could I view her charms ! 
 Thou art not she that should have sooth'd my care, 
 Thou art not she that should have blest my arms. 
 
 No balm but hers my aching breast can heal; 
 On her my soul is fix'd, and her alone; 
 No blessnig but Louisa's love can feel, 
 Noi- any loss but hers will e'er bemoan. 
 
 All ! sliould I lose thee, what would then remain 
 Through each long lingering night and tedious day 
 
43 
 
 But all my youth to waste in fruitless pain, 
 Then slow with bitterest remorse decay ! 
 
 Or cease perhaps one moment to repine 
 Whilst fancy's transient dream deceives my smart, 
 And think I see thee, fondly call thee mine, 
 And strain the yielding phantom to my heart. 
 
 Then wake afresh to anguish and despair, 
 To ev'ry pang rejected lovers know; 
 Thou art not mine.. .perhaps another's fair: 
 Spare, Heaven, oh! spare me that transcendent woe! 
 
 And gracious close my eyes in peaceful death, 
 Whose sleep alone these sufferings can relieve; 
 Dying I bless'd thee with my latest breath: 
 Oh ! let my grave th' obsequious tear receive! 
 
44 
 
 ELEGY ) 
 
 i' 
 
 ox THE DEATH OF THE REV. FRANCIS COVENTRY, 
 JAN. 17.50. 
 
 As erst o'er Damon's mournful bier 
 The heaving sigh, the stealing tear, 
 
 My sleepless hours beguil'd ; 
 Sweet Anna saw my tender grief, 
 And in kind pity brouglit relief: 
 
 She kiss'd me, and I smiFd. 
 
 My fancy next ambition charm'd; 
 Adieu each softer care.-.alarm'd 
 
 The fair enchantress came; 
 One kiss infus'd a gentler fire; 
 I felt the noble flame expire, 
 
 And curs'd the phantom fame. 
 
 TransfixVl with envy's poison'd dart, 
 When late my inly fest'ring heart 
 Consum'd in silent pain; 
 
45 
 
 Like wounded Edward's generous bride, 
 Sweet Anne her balmy lips applied, 
 And drew forth all the bane. 
 
 Strange to relate ! the tigress rage 
 Her magic kisses can assuage, 
 
 xVnd in soft fetters bind: 
 Nor e'er did music's powerful strain, 
 Nor proud philosophy attain 
 
 Such empire o'er the mind. 
 
 Come then, and, to secure my bliss, 
 Sweet Anne, in one perpetual kiss 
 
 Breathe in the healing balm... 
 Cease, rather cease, too fond desire... 
 Ah ! treacherous kisses, you inspire 
 
 More passions than you calm. 
 
 1750. 
 
46 
 
 TO A FRIEND AT BUXTON, 
 
 ANNO 1751. 
 
 The Scene describeJ is a place called the Lover's Leap, 
 at a little distance from the Wells. 
 
 A HERMIT now beneath the solemn shade 
 Of antique rocks with savage verdure hung, 
 Wrapt in sweet musing, haply art thou laid, 
 Or list'ning to clear Echo's mimic tongue. 
 
 Ah ! heed, my friend, nor breathe th' enchanted air 
 Which fans yon hoarse cascade and moss-liu'd cell; 
 Love, the dire sorc'rcr Love, keeps ambush there, 
 And wild delirious demons form the spell, 
 
 Smit with strange rapture, there th" impassioned soul 
 Drinks deep oblivion of each nobler tie; 
 Big with soft tears th' enthusiast eye-balls roll, 
 And pausing heaves tlie fond romantic sigh. 
 
47 
 
 There sliouldst thou chance Louisa's magic name 
 On some rude crag uncouthly grav'd to find, 
 With pity view a guilty lover's shame, 
 Efface the charm, and ease my lab'ring mind. 
 
 That fatal name no hand but thine alone. 
 Not Time's slow mould'ring file can e'er erase; 
 Beneath thy virtuous toucli the crumbling stone 
 Will yield, nor long retain the deep-worn trace. 
 
 While those charm'd characters impress'd remain, 
 Her banish'd image still too oft returns; 
 Vain is thy kind reproof, thy counsel vain, 
 Still when the friend should smile the lover mourns. 
 
48 
 
 TO A FRIEND. 
 
 THE SCENE DOVEDALE. 1756. 
 
 Beneath tliesehigh-piledcliffsandheadlongshade 
 Where the goat hangs yon pathless shrubs among, 
 In visionary musing art thou laid, 
 Or listening to clear Echo's mimic tongue? 
 
 Lo ! A\ here sequester'd deep from vulgar siglit 
 Dove's wizard waters wild and broken roll... 
 Hail ! sacred scene of horror and delight, 
 Lone haunt of contemplation's vestal soul! 
 
 Along the stream, low-whisp'ring thro' the trees, 
 In the still airs some sound divine we hear, 
 Now rising slow, as undulates the breeze, 
 With aAvful swell on fancy's ravish'd ear. 
 
49 
 
 There, threat'ning mute amazement's fixed eye, 
 Yon huge cathedral rock in ruin/rowns, 
 Whose rifted brow, of Gothic structure high, 
 The blasted yew with shaggy foliage crowns, 
 
 And pure ambrosial fragrance breathes around 
 From flower and herl), which health, young Sylvan, 
 
 loves ; 
 Amidst whose virtues tufting all the ground, 
 With tripping step the frplic naiad roves. 
 
 By grots, whose crannied vault of massy proof 
 Th' eternal fret of Time's dumb file doth wear, 
 While in just cadence from the weeping roof 
 Drops at slow intervals a crystal tear; 
 
 Tears such as oft in solitudes like these, 
 
 All loose in careless desolation spread, 
 
 With folded arms, beneath the darkening trces^ 
 
 Some pale and drooping magdalen hath shed. 
 
 Ye hermits old, whom erst the iron chain 
 Of penitence in these chill caverns bound ; 
 
50 
 
 Ye Druids, eldest bards, whose mystic strain 
 Withhidden numbers charm'dthishallow'd ground; 
 
 Oh ! if I dream not, rise, ye awful shades. 
 
 And prompt what duteous rite, what prayer, what 
 
 tear, 
 Propitiates best the genius that pervades 
 These rustic shrines, inspiring holy fear. 
 
 Or has Armida wav'd her magic Mand, 
 And strong illusion charm "d our cheated eyes? 
 How if these wonders at her dread command, 
 Fantastic all, in fatal mockery rise ! 
 
 Ah ! heed, my friend, nor breathe th' enchanted air 
 Which fans yon hoarse cascade and moss-lin'd cell. . . 
 Love, the dire sorcerer. Love keeps ambush there, 
 And wild delirious demons frame the spell. 
 
 Smit with strange frenzy there th' impassioned soul 
 Drinks deep oblivion of each nobler tie ; 
 Big with soft tears th' enthusiast eye-balls rolV 
 And pausing heaves the fond romantic sigh. 
 
51 
 
 There many a siren's sweet bewitching name 
 On tlie rude crag uncouthly graved is found, 
 And many a vow, which clad in lambent flame, 
 The follying loves full lightly waft around. 
 
 Should the fell sorceress put forth half her skill, 
 And shed the poisonVl cup of tender woe, 
 What anguish pierces, as those drops distil, 
 Never may gentle minds, oh ! never know. 
 
 Ah me ! too sure the subtle bane I feel, 
 E'en now some latent spark rekindling glows... 
 Vain resolution ! how thy tempered steel 
 Dissolves, and reason's slackened sinew bows ! 
 
 E'en now sad memory wakes and bleeds anew, 
 Stung M'ith the sense of long-forgotten smart... 
 Dear banish'd image ! which I wont to view, 
 And clasp the lov'd illusion to my heart ! 
 
 Thee, thee, ah ! whence returning, do I see ! 
 Wilt tliou, as erst, still deign to call me friend r 
 
52 
 
 Be still, my throbbing heart... it is not she... 
 'Tis some vain phantom, or destructive fiend. 
 
 Hence, ere it quite subdue me, hence away, 
 While yet my lingering feet consent to move... 
 Tell me, my heart, what means this fond delay? 
 Dost thou forget that thou must cease to love? 
 
53 
 
 A CHARACTER. 1767. 
 
 With beams of innocence her smiling eyes 
 Gleam VI, like Aurora's mild and dewy ray, 
 When spring first bkishes under kindling skies, 
 Which shed moist fragrance on returning May. 
 
 But transient were those gleams of liquid light, 
 Still bashful hid beneath the virgin veil... 
 Yet by sweet snatches caught the eager sight, 
 As the coy lightning's glimpse in twilight pale. 
 
 Her feeling heart with simple truth was stor'd. 
 With truth her blameless lips... inspiring slow 
 The cold, but soft, and soon-relenting word, 
 Which melts in falling, like the vernal snow. 
 
 Though siren Flattery woo'd her to be vain. 
 Her manners, still unsullied as her cheek, 
 
54 
 
 Vied with the nymphs of Fancy's pastoral train, 
 Not fcign'd so fair, so guileless, or so meek. 
 
 Fair, e'en M^hen languor paled her vivid bloom... 
 Ye vermeil tints, the palm to paleness yield... 
 Shaming the flow'rs that gaudiest hues assume, 
 Then reign'd the lily, queen of beauty's field. 
 
 But, when their virtues to the drooping maid 
 Health's chosen naiad bade her springs disclose, 
 And Hebe's self, unenvious of her aid, 
 Steep'd in the fount her own ambrosial rose. 
 
 Fresh dawn'd youth's purple light... the illumin'd air 
 Glow'd... while the loves their glancing pinions 
 
 wav'd. 
 And lightly fann'd her loosely-fiowing hair, 
 The loveliest locks that e'er bland Anna '' lav'd. 
 
 Then shone the mind's pure vestal lamp serene, 
 Irradiating clear beauty's crystal shrine; 
 
 • St. Anne's Well at Buxton. 
 
65 
 
 So bright through each transhicent feature seen 
 That e'en the mortal covering seem'd divine. 
 
 That mind's pure influence every breast refin'd 
 To its own temper... chastening loose desire... 
 Not purer heaven's white ray by seraphs tined 
 Erst on rude altar's kindled hallow'd fire; 
 
 While from each prostrate heart and fervent tongue 
 On wings of rapture adoration rose, 
 Or mute on trembling lips devotion hung, 
 Nor dar'd to breathe its too ecstatic vows. 
 
 These lines, faint emblems of the feeling heart, 
 Shadow of charms, alas ! too late admir'd, 
 Weak lineaments of love, devoid of art, 
 Nor fancy painted, nor the muse inspir'd; 
 
 But she, love's queen, whom foaming ocean bore, 
 i\ll rude of numbers, to her votary gave, 
 As roam'd he lonely by the sounding shore, 
 Mid sea-mews clang. . . and mark'd the ebbing wave. 
 
56 
 
 IMITATION FROM HORACE. 
 
 Quem tu Melpomene semel 
 Nascentem, &c. 
 
 He, on whose natal hour the loves ascend, 
 Wealth, pow'r, and fame, alike disdains to seek ; 
 To him no Hardwicke from the bench shall bend, 
 Nor the rude commons hist to hear him speak. 
 
 His trusting country ne'er shall send him forth 
 To guide her battles, or confirm her peace ; 
 No wreath of counsel sage, or martial worth, 
 Laurel, or olive, shall his temples grace. 
 
 But, crown'd with myrtles, he shall haunt the 
 
 streams 
 That warble, waste, and murmur as they flow, 
 And shunning man, and day's detested beams, 
 Seek the thick shade with wand'ring steps and slow; 
 
51 
 
 Or midst tlie toMn, the public gaze and theme, 
 Roaming witli vacant ear and heedless eye, 
 Thro' crowded streets pursue the pleasing dream, 
 And pass his dearest friend unnoted by. 
 
58 
 
 TO A LADY. 
 
 First of all lovers me the inferior train 
 Confess, and hail me prince of soft desire; 
 Pre-eminence obtain'd by glorious pain, 
 And envied yet by none, though all admire. 
 
 Oh ! my souFs idol, wonder of thy kind ! 
 The lute who temperest m ith each muse's art, 
 Or with a touch more skilful and refm'd 
 Canst make or mar the music of the heart; 
 
 Thine is the gift, that midst the passing throng 
 Some finger points me out, before unknown; 
 That yet I live to pay one grateful song 
 (If this be living) is thy gift alone. 
 
59 
 
 M E A E A r P O T. 
 
 Ex Anthologia Graeca. Edit. Florent. ligi. 
 
 AcciCPV'x. ov; àxzDVTU TroXvKXocvo'ru) <5" Itti ruf^Cu) 
 
 'LmVÒCù' fJt.VO!.fJLOC TIQ^OOV, (XVCtLLOt. (piXo(pfiO(riji'cx.:;' 
 OiKTi^'i yoio^ oiKT^x •piXov (Té yccci ev (p'Òiu^von; MiXi.-zyoog 
 
 A/, A/, lio'JTo TTo^èivov BfAot '^ocXoq', aPTTOitTsv Aoxg, 
 
 Ap7ra,(rsi>' a:c[Acx,iov ó\x,v^og È(pvos ycovtg. 
 AXXcù (Ts yovvovi^ocii fx 7roiVTpo(pe, tov TravoduoTOv 
 
 HiiS^a crotg xoXTToig, f/,oiT£p, ivoi,yna,Xt(rui, 
 
60 
 
 IMITATION 
 
 OF THE FOREGOING GREEK VERSES. 
 
 These tears, my Anne, e'en in the grave receive, 
 Which gush in vain my sorrows to reheve. 
 Tears, bitter tears on thy cold urn I shed, 
 Love's fruitless tribute to the unmindful dead : 
 Thee still in death belov'd I fondly mourn, 
 Torn from my heart... thus soon, thus rudely torn. 
 Ah! where is now that matchless grace of form? 
 Defird with dust... fruition for the Avorm: 
 Youth's opening rose which breath'd immortal 
 
 bloom. 
 Untimely pluck'd, lies wither'd in the tomb. 
 Hear, parent Earth, all-teeming mother, hear ; 
 If yet thou heldst no lovelier offspring dear, 
 Afford these much-lamented relics rest. 
 And gently fold them in thy holy breast. 
 
61 
 
 To 
 
 # # # «: :ifr # # 
 
 To thee, sweet youth, once more my steps I hencl ; 
 Once more ere long Til press thee to my heart; 
 Thou too with cordial cheer wilt greet thy friend, 
 And join the soothing wish, not soon to part. 
 Alas ! will envious Fate consent, whose dart 
 Long lifted some relenting pow'rs suspend, 
 That mov'd by Nature's plea, from mortal smart 
 Her minion thus untimely doom'd defend? 
 Oh ! if this blossom 'scape the blighting death 
 Of Eurus, till hesperian zephyr's breath 
 Delighted dally with its fragrant prime, 
 What vernal fruits for Hymen's rich repast 
 Shall Hebe cull, which mock old Autumn's taste. 
 Mature in her own season's genial time ! 
 
62 
 
 SONETTO DI ORAZIO PETROCHI 
 
 RIME DEGLI ARCADI. 
 Sulla incertezza della rovina di un edifizio. 
 
 Io chiesi al Tempo...' Ed a chi sarse il grande 
 Ampio edifizio, che qui al suol traesti?' 
 Ei non risponde; e più veloci e presti 
 Fuggitivo per Taere i vanni spande. 
 Dissi alla Fama...'0 tu che all' ammirande 
 Cose dai vita, e questi avanzi e questi.' 
 China ella gli occhi conturbati e mesti, 
 Qual chi doglioso alti sospir tramande. 
 Io già volgea meravigliando il passo ; 
 Ma su per Talta mole altera in mostra 
 Visto girseli' TObblio di sasso in sasso... 
 ' E tu, gridai, forse il sapresti ? ah mostra. ' 
 Ma in tuono ei m' interruppe orrido e basso; 
 * Io di chi fu non curo... ad esso è nostra.' 
 
63 
 
 STONEHENGE. 
 
 I QUESTIONED Time... 'Who rear'd this giant pile, 
 Which e'en thy iron tooth thus slow consumes?' 
 He answer'd not hut with a scornful smile, 
 Then spread forfiight his strong unwearied plumes. 
 I said to Fame...'0 thou Avhose voice records 
 All M'ond'rous works, let not tliis story die ! ' 
 With eyes declin'd, as destitute of words, 
 She droop'd, and heav'd th' unutterahle sigh. 
 Pensive I turn'd to part; when lo! I spied 
 Ohlivion's form with solitary stride, 
 Haughty and vast, stalking from stone to stone... 
 And ' Thou, ' I cry 'd, ' thou haply knoAv'st. . . declare. ' 
 Sudden the phantom shrieked...'! little care 
 What once it hath been... now 'tis mine alone.' 
 
64 
 
 A FRAGMENT. 1771. 
 
 Quaeque ipse miserrima vidi. 
 
 Hard and degrading is the lot 
 
 Of the poor vulgar female Scot... 
 
 From such, beheld on Irish plains, 
 
 Where still old barbarism reigns, 
 
 Swift's strong, but cruel, pencil drew 
 
 His picture of the vile Yahoo. 
 
 Let none the muse inhuman deem, 
 
 If painting misery's sad extreme, 
 
 As the soft tear steals down the while, 
 
 Some touch grotesque should force a smile. 
 
 Oh ! may just pity once expand 
 
 Their stepdame country's niggard hand ! 
 
 See, foster'd here by Flora wild, 
 Each humbler vegetable child 
 Thrives on the mountains, moors, and fens, 
 Tufts tlie moist rocks, and scents the glens: 
 
65 
 
 See savage sweet-briars gaily bloom, 
 And the heath glows with golden broom. 
 But beauty \s flow'r, if lov/ly born, 
 Withers beneath oppression's thorn; 
 Her opening lily, budding rose. 
 Nor nurture here, nor shelter knows; 
 Rude, abject, droops the vassal race. 
 Their own, but more the land's disgrace. 
 Lean penury, the pinching clime, 
 And early drudgery, nip their prime ; 
 Grave wrinkles on youth's haggard brow, 
 And ere its time force age to boAV. 
 Sad influence sloth and ignorance shed 
 On their mean hovel, board, and bed; 
 The unwindow'd and unchimnied room 
 Reeks with the wet peat's stifling fume. 
 Pendent the crevic'd roof about 
 In a black fleece of ropy soot. 
 Vile self-neglect, child of despair. 
 Mid squalid gloom and stench is there, 
 And every pest which swells the train 
 Of nastiness there swarms amain; 
 
 F 
 
66 
 
 While itch, and flea, and louse, and bug, 
 Provoke the scratch, or scrub, or shrug... 
 (Which most, the feeder or the fed, 
 Is vermin, yet no sage hath said...) 
 Their matted locks one clout contains. 
 Ne'er wash'd but by tempestuous rains... 
 Their bodies wrapt in sordid wool 
 From ragged sheep which rude hands pull 
 (Sheep that on rocks alone have rang'd), 
 Perennial garment, never chang'd: 
 Their bare legs, not like those, I ween, 
 Of graces, naked-footed seen. 
 Dancing by moonlight on the green; 
 While Cytherea, hand in hand. 
 Loose and unsandalVl, leads the band... 
 (Gay vision of young Flaccus, laid 
 Beneath Appulian Vvdture's shade...) 
 But masculine in strength and size, 
 Stride wide, and dare the loathing eyes; 
 With summer's parching dust bestrcwYl, 
 Or in foul winter's dies embru'd: 
 Arms, of such legs companions meet, 
 And hands, twin-sisters to their feet... 
 
67 
 
 Feet of hard M-arted horn, rock proof, 
 Shapeless as the wild ass's hoof: 
 More careless far than nicer brutes, 
 Their steps what mingled stain pollutes 1 
 They tread mid Cloacina's store, 
 Which heaps each fly-frequented door, 
 E'en where the putrid puddle lies 
 Obscene, and poisons half the skies. 
 
 Oh! how unlike fair England's feet, 
 In glossy shoe so trim and neat. 
 With nicest step which pick their way 
 When hasty show'rs have drench'd the clay, 
 Where the clean stone or gravel's bed 
 Attracts their circumspective tread; 
 While the coy hand, with cautious doubt. 
 Holds up the spotless petticoat, 
 And bares the taper ancle, dight 
 In thread or cotton's purest white... 
 Just bares... but if some bolder eye, 
 With glance too curious, aim to pry. 
 Soon drops the decent robe around, 
 Alarm'd...nor scorns to sweep the ground. 
 
68 
 
 BLEACHING. 
 
 A FRAGMENT. 1771. 
 
 By Caledonia's crystal streams, 
 Sparkling in June's ethereal beams, 
 On Leven's banks and Lomond's side, 
 Or in the vocal vale of Clyde, 
 The nymphs to this bright task decreed 
 Succinct and barefoot tend the mead. 
 Still sprinkling, gaily as they pass, 
 The skeins that hide the tufted grass; 
 By one plain fillet ill confin'd, 
 Loose wave their locks to every wind; 
 The winds assist their sportive pains, 
 And lightly brush the brightening skeins, 
 Which fann'd and moisten'd, as they lie 
 Innumerous, drink the cloudless sky, 
 And basking in the fount of light, 
 Imbibe such emulative white, 
 
69 
 
 That e'en the snows, which ling'ring hide 
 On each hroad mountain's sunless side, 
 Surpass'd in pure immaculate hue. 
 These whiter meads with envy view. 
 
70 
 SCOTLAND. 
 
 JULY 1771. 
 
 Now there dwelt in a little valley amidst the 
 mountains of the north a husbandman, who was 
 just and upright in his dealings, and he was a 
 breeder of sheep ; and the Lord had blessed him, 
 and his flocks multiplied exceedingly, and fed 
 upon a thousand hills. 
 
 The man was not a native of the hill coun- 
 try; he came from the country of the plain: 
 but his wife was one of the daughters of the 
 land, even a daughter of the mountains; and 
 her name was Maini: and they had been mar- 
 ried a few years, but had no children. 
 
 And it came to pass that a stranger, Avho 
 was a pilgrim, came down into the valley seek- 
 ing shade and refreshment; and he alighted 
 from his horse and came unto their dwelling, 
 which was low and humble, after the rude man- 
 
71 
 
 ner of building" in those parts, and he stooped 
 and passed the thrcsliold. 
 
 Now it chanced tliat tlie man was absent 
 on a journey; but Maini his wife was in the 
 house : and wlien she saw the stranger she bade 
 him welcome, and brought him into a little 
 chamber which was clean, though homely; and 
 the man marked it well; for the people of that 
 country are not so cleanly in their habitations 
 as the people of the south. 
 
 The woman also was neat in her attire, and 
 fair-spoken; but her speech was a little broken 
 (for the language of the south is as a foreign 
 tongue in that land) ; nevertheless it was soft 
 and gentle, and it sounded pleasing in the ear 
 of the stranger. 
 
 Then she brought forth milk and butter, 
 even sweet butter in pure vessels; and she 
 hasted to bake a barley cake on the embers, 
 and set before him, and he did eat. 
 
 And she spake cheerfully to him, Ijut with 
 all modesty and sweetness, and said, Now of a 
 
72 
 
 surety this wild country and the manners there- 
 of must seem strano-e unto thee. 
 
 And he said, The very wildness of the coun- 
 try is pleasing to mc, and for the manners 
 thereof, this kindness to the traveller must in- 
 deed seem strange to those who come from 
 afar, for the people in other parts are not used 
 to be so comfortable to strangers. 
 
 And she said, Dost thou come from afar? 
 These mountains and the rough ways therein 
 are wearisome to the traveller; thou needs 
 must want repose. 
 
 And the man paused a little, and replied, 
 I come from the farthest parts of the south; I 
 am a pilgrim, and the days of my pilgrimage 
 have been many, and now indeed at last I am 
 weary, and my beast is weary also: let me, I 
 intreat thee, tarry a few days under the sha- 
 dow of thy roof, so shall I have rest, and my 
 beast shall have rest likewise. 
 
 And she seemed to wonder at his request; 
 and she answered discreetly, and said, Alas 
 
73 
 
 for me! that it is not in my power to entertain 
 thee : I have heard of the country from wliich 
 thou comest, that it is a rich and plentiful 
 country, and the people thereof live in fair 
 dwellings, and eat of the fat of the land; but 
 this country, as thou seest, is poor and barren, 
 and the manners thereof are rude and igno- 
 rant; thou canst not surely be pleased with 
 such things : my house also and household stuff 
 are mean and scanty. We intend soon, if the 
 Lord shall bless us, to make it better: perad- 
 venture if thou shouldst chance to pass this 
 way hereafter it will be in my power to receive 
 thee as I could wish. 
 
 But he answered. Nay, speak not thus to 
 thy servant: if I shall not straiten thee in thy 
 dwelling, this little chamber will suffice for 
 my lodging, and the fare which serveth thee 
 will content me well; but if I shall be burden- 
 some to thee, speak the word, and I will de- 
 part. 
 
 And she said. Assuredly thou shalt not de- 
 
74 
 
 part, if til oil canst be pleased to tarry under 
 this poor roof. Thy stay will not be long, but 
 I will do what little I can to make it less irk- 
 some to thee. 
 
 And he thanked her for her courtesy, and 
 said, Trouble not thyself much to provide for 
 me; a little will suffice. And he was glad to 
 tarry, for rest was needful to him; and he was 
 pleased with the understanding and natural 
 courtesy of the woman. Moreover he was cu- 
 rious to see the simple manners and household 
 customs of those parts. 
 
 Then they ungirded his beasts, and housed 
 them, and gave them provender. And ]\Iaini 
 carried the stranger forth into the field beside 
 her dwelling, to shew him the pleasantness 
 thereof: and lo! it was a little valley of green 
 pasture, smooth and level, and a swift stream 
 divided it in the midst; and there were trees 
 for shade ; and where the valley opened to the 
 south it was bounded by a narrow arm of the 
 sea, and on every other side the mountains 
 
75 
 
 stood round it like a mighty wall ; and there 
 was the sound of many waters, which foamed 
 as they fell from the rocks ahove, but where 
 they gathered into a pool beneath were purq 
 and clear as crystal. 
 
 And behold, as they walked in the field, 
 there chanced to pass that way a shepherd boy, 
 one of those who kept their flocks on the hills; 
 and she called him unto her, and spake gently 
 to the lad, and said, Jocky, go fetch a lamb 
 and a kid from the mountain, and see thou 
 choose aright, that this stranger may taste of 
 the best of our flock; and take thy dog with 
 thee, that thou mayst be able to catch that 
 which thou markest, for thou knowest thev 
 are wild on the hills, and diflicult to be 
 taken. 
 
 And the stranger said. Let me now speak 
 a word, I beseech thee. Send not for both at 
 once; send either for the lamb or for the kid, 
 as seemeth best unto thee: will not one suf- 
 fice? 
 
76 
 
 And she said, Nay, but the lad shall bring 
 down both, and we will eat first of the lamb, 
 and I will feed the kid with milk from the cow, 
 so shall it be fat and fit to set before thee when 
 thou hast eaten of the lamb. 
 
 She said moreover, I will make for thee 
 whey of the milk of the goat, if thou wilt 
 drink thereof; it is a pleasant and wholesome 
 drink. 
 
 And he said, I see thou art kind and care- 
 ful. Thou shalt have the blessing of the 
 stranger: do then according to the kindness 
 of thy word. 
 
 Then she spake again to the lad, and charged 
 him strictly: so the lad ran, and hasted to the 
 mountain, and his dog went with him. 
 
 But the man stood still in the field, and 
 pondered, and said within himself, Surely this 
 is the ancient world, and the manners of the 
 times of old : did not Sarah or Rebekah do after 
 this fashion, when she received the stranger in 
 the absence of Abraham or Isaac her lord.^ 
 
And as he continued musing she said, What 
 musest thou upon? 
 
 And he turned and looked wistfully on the 
 woman (for he had not much regarded her 
 countenance before), and he saw that she was 
 lovely to look upon, and that the favour of 
 her countenance was full of simplicity, and 
 mildness, and loving-kindness. 
 
 And he cast his eyes around, and the place 
 seemed to him as a portion of Eden; and the 
 sun was bright in the heavens, and shone upon 
 benevolence and innocence, and he was trans- 
 ported with the sight, and his heart glowed 
 within him, and he could not refrain from 
 speaking to her as one surprised ; but he spake 
 in a low voice, humbly and reverently, and 
 said. Behold I am a stranger in the land, and 
 the face of the land itself is strange, and what 
 I see around me looks like enchantment; tell 
 me now, I pray thee, is it usual to meet with 
 angels among these mountains? 
 
 And she said, I never heard of any in these 
 
78 
 
 parts; and she blushed lightly, even as the 
 blossom of the wild sweet-briar, which grew 
 beside her on the bank of that pleasant brook, 
 and smiled, and held her peace. 
 
 And they Avalked and communed together, 
 and were as familiar friends; and when he com- 
 mended the pleasantness of the place, Maini 
 seemed to mock thereat, and said. To us indeed 
 it seemeth a sweet and pleasant place; but can 
 it be that these wild rocks should delight the 
 eye of the stranger who cometh from the fruit- 
 ful country of the south? 
 
 And he said, Doth not novelty heighten 
 many pleasures? therefore perhaps these wild 
 scenes are more pleasing to me than to thee 
 who art accustomed to them. 
 
 And the man sojourned there more than 
 twenty days: moreover when he departed 
 thence, he looked back and sighed. Then he 
 took his way through the desart of mountains, 
 and vacancy and silence were around him on 
 every side. 
 
79 
 
 FROM A TRAVELLER IN WALES 
 
 TO A FRIEXD TRAVELLING IN SCOTLAND. 
 AUGUST 1772. 
 
 From the o-reen ends of Gwvnetli's " ancient land, 
 Wild Arvon's coast, and Mona's wizard strand,'' 
 Where Britain's tongue still braves theSaxonyoke, 
 And the bold words Avhich Csesar heard are spoke, 
 This greets my friend ; whose vein to loftier things, 
 Hills more aspiring, and more copious springs, 
 Ere now have rais'd: for not with Scotia's pride, 
 By equal pact to England's realm allied. 
 Doth humbled Cambria dare in strife eno-ao-e 
 Nor Taliessin vie with Ossian's rage. 
 
 a Gwyneth is the ancient British name of that division cf 
 country now called North Wales; the Venedotia of the Romans, 
 
 ^ Wizard; alluding to the description in Tacitus of the Druids 
 assembled on the shore of Anglesey to assist in opposing the pas- 
 sage of the Romans. Annal. 1. 14. 
 
80 
 
 And yet, midst echoing rocks and vocal woods, 
 Soothing the mountain winds and torrent floods, 
 E'en here some native strains still sweetly sound, 
 While the harp cheers the listening oreads round, 
 Surpassing far in compass, life, and tone, 
 The twanging bagpipe's soporific drone. 
 Music so SM'eet, so various, and so gay. 
 Oft too, symphonious to no vulgar lay, 
 Rough Boreas hears not in his bleak domain, 
 But that past ages heard now boasts in vain/ 
 The nymphs themselves to the harp's circle drawn, 
 Brushing with naked feet the dewy lawn. 
 Brisk on its turf their noiseless measures pace, 
 JNIore light of form, more elegant of face. 
 Than those who, clustering in the piper's throng, 
 Beat the hard earth, and mix their artless song. 
 Ne'er shall the north withCambria's beauties vie. 
 Unknown to mountains of a ruder sky 
 (Save that their lakes a just distinction claim. 
 And meaner waters shrink at Lomond's name); 
 
 «^ The harp makes a great figure in the poems of Ossian, but 
 if it ever was a popular instrument in the highlands, it has been 
 disused time out of mind. 
 
81 
 
 Ne'er with her vales shall highland glens compare, 
 Poetic dens of famine, caves of care : 
 Oft in their name their character appears, 
 This call'd the glen of dolor, that of tears. "^ 
 Claude's colours there, and Virgil's style are faint... 
 Let Churchill's pen, and Rosa's pencil paint... 
 All frowns... but here, tho' rude the general scene, 
 In loveliest contrast to its savage mien, 
 Full many a soft and fertile tract is found, 
 Whose flowery verge the sheltering mountains 
 
 bound. 
 Where Ceres, Pales, and Pomona, join 
 Rich fruits, the golden sheaf and milky kine. 
 Such the warm vale,'by cliifs and groves embrac'd, 
 Here spread with pasture, there with harvest grac'd 
 
 ^ For the glen of dolor see Mr, Pennant's account of Castle 
 Campbel in his tour; and for that of tears see Mr. Dalrymple's 
 etymology of Glen-co, in a note on his account of the massacre. 
 
 * The vale of Conway extends from Bettus y coed, formerly 
 
 noted for its pearl fishery, to Conway-castle, built by Edward the 
 
 First at the mouth of the river. Snowdon must be taken here 
 
 in its old acceptation for the whole tract of the Carnarvonshire 
 
 mountains. 
 
 G 
 
82 
 
 (Though cloudy Snowdou o'er its beauties lours), 
 From pearly Bettus stretch'd to Edward's tow'rs. 
 Here he, who rushing from his lofty fount/ 
 And hurl'd impetuous down the craggy mount, 
 Oft rends his parent rocks in frantic mood, 
 Maturer Conway rolls his sober flood: 
 Of man just emblem in each different stage, 
 Headstrong as youth, then mild as ripen'd age. 
 Erst prone to fable, credulous of yore, 
 Devoutly listening to sage Merlins lore;" 
 When Cambria fell by conquering Edward, vain 
 To wear his mighty victor's pompous chain;'' 
 In gentler times he softer graces chose, 
 When near him Gwidir's classic structure ' rose; 
 
 ^ The Conway is a furious torrent river from its source till it 
 issues from the rocks at the head of the vale, after which its 
 course is very smooth. 
 
 s The scene of many of the old fables relating to Merlin is 
 laid on the banks of the Conway. 
 
 ^ Alluding to the magnificent castle built by Edward the First 
 to command the rivirj now the most picturesque ruin in the 
 kingdom. 
 
 ' Tlie upper house of Gwidir (demolished last year) was sup- 
 posed to have been built by Inigo Jones, and was probably the 
 
83 
 
 Then proud of Jones, born on his verdant side, 
 Whose bridge ^ to distant time prolonged his 
 
 pride; 
 Though now its arehes scarce his \vave contain, 
 Swoln high of late with Gray's subhmest strain. 
 Inspiring stream ! from bold Aneurin's lay ' 
 Still tuneful, to our English Pindar's day. 
 
 How elegant the meads, and stream, and shade, 
 From cool Festiniog's airy height survey 'd ! 
 
 first house in the principality decorated in the stile of classic 
 architecture. It was likewise entitled to this epithet from another 
 particularity, for the walls both within and without were in- 
 scribed with passages from the Roman, Italian, and Spanish poets 5 
 not forgetting the Welch bards, who may be stiled classics in their 
 own country. 
 
 '' The tradition of the country is that Jones was born at 
 Llanrwst, and that he built that bridge over the Conway, The 
 date is 1636, and the elegance of the structure is worthy of him. 
 
 ' Aneurin, one of the most ancient bards cotemporary with 
 Taliessin. His most famous poem was the Gododin, a sort of 
 Pindaric ode, celebrating the prowess of his countrymen in a 
 battle on the banks of the Conway. There are some fragments 
 of it, with a translation, in Evans' collection. 
 
84 
 
 Yon villa's site Italia's taste might please,"" 
 Which plac'd aloft, yet bosom'd deep in trees, 
 Reflected views her mountain's waving side 
 In the broad mirror of each brimming tide. 
 
 See what fair garlands wreathe Cluid's polish'd 
 urn ! 
 See mitred Elwy's tributary burne " 
 Mid tilth and meadow wind its serpent maze, 
 Whose wealthy dow'r might England's envy raise ! 
 
 More spacious still that country's smiling pride 
 Where circling Deva's hallow'd waters glide," 
 By tow'rs,and fanes, and groves, their progress take, 
 Scorning rude Aran's springs, and Bala's fost'ring 
 lake. 
 
 "^ The vale of Mainturog. The villa here described is Plas 
 Tanybwlk, the site of which is exceedingly picturesque. 
 
 " The vale of Cluid and St. Asaph. The Elwy is the river 
 which runs by St. Asaph, the British name of which is Llan- 
 Elwy. 
 
 " The lower part of Denbighshire through which the Dee 
 runs, taking a great sweep towards Chester, is a beautiful culti- 
 vated country. The sources of the Dee are in the mountains 
 called Aran, but it is not a considerable stream till it issues from 
 the lake of Bala. 
 
S5 
 
 But prouder far than all, that plenteous plain 
 Thro' which youngSabrine draws her wanton train, 
 She of pure race, Plimlimnion's spotless child. 
 Here in this soft voluptuous bed defil'd,^ 
 The glebe's rich tincture blots her wave refin'd, 
 As wealth's corruption taints the fairest mind. 
 Sad chance ! the mistress flood of Cambrian birth 
 Alone discolour'd by her native earth; 
 While each inferior naiad's limpid stream 
 Gilds its bright pebbles in the solar beam. 
 Through all its course, unpurified by toil, 
 The blemish of this too luxurious soil 
 Pollutes her current, till the lasting stain 
 Yields to the salt ablutions of the main. 
 
 Such the prime scenes of Cambria's various 
 land, 
 'WHiich soft of feature, elegant, and bland, 
 
 P Tlie vale of Montgomery through which Severn runs, and 
 in which its waters first contract their muddy hue, is one of the 
 richest scenes of cultivation in the kingdom. The Severn rises in 
 Plimlimmon, and is as clear at first as any other of the brooks 
 which fall from those mountains. 
 
8<5 
 
 Temper with culture's smile, '^ and milder air, 
 The stern majestic hrow her mountains wear. 
 Clad in thick gloom, their summits frown on high ; 
 Beneath, the vales, like beauteous suppliants, lie: 
 Delight at once and awe our bosoms prove... 
 'Tis Venus prostrate at the feet of Jove. 
 
 Hard were the task to name each latent grace, 
 Clasp'd fondly in her wide and strict embrace: 
 These deep and devious solitude conceals, 
 Or to th' unconscious eye alone reveals, 
 When thro' the desart's vast and trackless maze, 
 Led by the chase, th' incurious native strays. 
 Yet, sweet sequester"d charms, ye sometimes meet 
 The pilgrim's casual glance and wandering feet, 
 Bold each recess far-winding to explore. 
 Where never gentle footsteps pierc'd before; 
 There sole, and undescried by mortal eyes. 
 Waiting th' auspicious moment of surprise, 
 
 ^ The vales here enumerated are the principal scenes of cul- 
 tivation in North Wales, and are very beautiful; but the more 
 romantic features of the country lie hid among the wilder parts 
 of the mountains, many of them difficult of access; little visited 
 by strangers, and less noticed by the natives. 
 
S7 
 
 With rev'rcnd violence, not profane, I ween/ 
 To seize tlie shitting Protcns of the scene; 
 Whose transformations strange, and still renew'd, 
 Exhaustless still, th' unwearied grasp elude. 
 Now o'er the precipice a hroad oak he waves; 
 Now white with eddying foam a torrent raves; 
 Then shoots in cataract down the rifted rock, 
 Dreadful with stunning roar and misty smoke; 
 Or proving gentler change, a fountain seems, 
 Thence glides away in smooth translucent streams. 
 But all his various wiles he tries in vain, 
 His strong invader stricter draws the chain,* 
 Till in his proper shape, suhdu'd and mild,' 
 Confessed th' enthusiast genius of the wild, 
 
 *■ Nam sine vi non ulla dabit pra^cepta. . . 
 Omnia transfbmiat sese in niiracula rerum, &c. 
 
 ViKG. G. iv. 
 
 * Quanto ille magis formas se vertet in omnes. 
 Tanto nate magis contende tenacia vincla. 
 
 ' Sed cum nulla viam repent fallacia, victus 
 In sese redit. . . . 
 
88 
 
 He yields his treasures, opes his secret celi, 
 Where all the genuine forms of rapture dwell... 
 Fair vestal forms! from the world's proudest 
 
 throne 
 Sacre J... and obvious to the muse alone. 
 
 .... Opere in medio defixa relinquit aratra. 
 
89 
 
 ON VISITING THE RUINS OF 
 
 BRADEGATE-HOUSE in LEICESTERSHIRE, 
 
 THE BIRTH-PLACE OF LADY JANE GREY, 
 
 AND THE SCENE OF ASCHAM's INTERVIEW WITH HERj WHEN 
 HE FOUND HER READING THE PH^DON OF PLATO. 
 
 OJjt St ri SuKTxy r» Trsfi(r<r' iVKOc^^iu), 
 
 9v)(rjvr d^ia-frj ; Euripidis Hecuba, line 579. 
 
 SONNET I. 
 
 Here spring, ye roses, laurels, ivy, here. 
 Each meed of learning's ^ or of beauty's brow; 
 Be pious fortitude's fair garland near, 
 With cypress mix'd the palm's triumphant bough : 
 Here, the bright boast of Grey's aspiring line, 
 Young Jane in early bloom of genius sate, 
 Intently pond'ring Plato's page divine. 
 Calm, and unconscious of impending fate. 
 
 » Doctarum hederae prsemia frontium. Hor. 
 
90 
 
 Sweet sophist ! whom too soon stern foes ordain, 
 To prove that lore sublime not learnt in vain 
 (Severely prove, while first thy Guilford bled), 
 E'en Avisdom Avept o'er thy untimely bier; 
 Nor have the muses nor the graces e'er, 
 Before or since, such tears of anguish shed. 
 
91 
 
 SONNET IL 
 
 Ye Lars, yet ling'ring round your wasted seat, 
 Tell me where stood the room to Pallas dear. 
 Whose hallow'd ruins, now her bird's retreat, 
 All the mild pow 'rs of doctrine still revere : 
 That room, Avhicli Plato's genius erst was known 
 To haunt, more pleas'd than in iiis olive shade, 
 While Jane, ill destin'd to a fatal throne, 
 Meek Wisdom's child, his discipline obey'd. 
 
 speak... for \o\vs to that once attic scene 
 
 1 brino-,. .there fix one wreath of deathless ii'reen... 
 There too some consecrated tears I shed... 
 
 Still are ye mute?. .. alas ! in vain I call... 
 They fled this mournful place, or perish'd all. 
 Pining with grief, when their lov'd mistress bled. 
 
92 
 
 EPIGRAM I. 
 
 ' Casta suo gladium, &c.' 
 
 When Jane^ unmov'd amid the weeping crowd, 
 Knelt to the block yet warm Av^ith Guilford's blood, 
 ' The bitterness of death is past,' she cry'd, 
 ' 'Twas then I suffer'd when my husband dy'd.' 
 
 IT. 
 
 Soon as to Socrates the news was known 
 That Jane's calm fortitude surpass'd his own, 
 ' O be her fame superior ! ' pleas'd he cry'd ; 
 ' To such disciples I can yield with pride: 
 But let her not, too emulous, deny 
 Whose early lessons '' taught her how to die.' 
 
 '' The Phaedon contains the discourse which Socrates held on 
 the immortality of the soul, &c. just before his death. 
 
93 
 
 GREEK TRANSLATION, 
 BY THOMAS TYRWHITT, 
 
 OF EPIGRAM II. 
 
 ' Soon as to Socrates, &c/ 
 
 'Tr^g Vpui'/jg xocKOi; aro; or iv v^zuic&i ire'TTUcrTUi 
 
 AXXct 01, iitr Vspojv, koìì kvóo^ VTrspT^oou Biv>' 
 'NiKxa'^di rciv^v ou Cp'Òoiog scrnv spiv' 
 
94 
 
 ASCHAMI EPISTOLA, 
 
 LIB. I. EP. IV. 
 
 Du AS Anglifg faeminas praeterire non possum, &c. 
 Altera est Jana Graya filia nobilis marchionis 
 Dorsetensis, &c. &c. annum nata est decimum 
 quintum. In aula fui illi valde familiaris, et 
 scripsit ad me eruditas litteras. Hac superiore 
 testate, cum amicos in agro Eboracensi viserem, 
 in via deflexi Leicestriam, ubi Jana cum patre 
 habitaret. Statini admissus sum in cubiculum. 
 Inveni nobilem puellam, dii boni ! legentem 
 Gr^cè Phctdonem Platonis, quem sic intelligit 
 ut mihi ipsi summani admirationem injiceret. 
 Sic loquitur et scribit Grtece ut vera referenti 
 vix fides adhiberi possit, Sec. 
 
95 
 
 LIB. III. EP. VII. 
 
 RoGERUS AscHAMUs clarissiin'ce domina; 
 Joanna Grayìe. 
 
 In hac longinqua peregrinatione meà, clarissi- 
 ma domina, emensus sum grandia locorum spa- 
 tia, iirbes amplissimas inspexi, mores hominum 
 multorum vidi, instituta, leges, religionem, dis- 
 ciplinam diversorum populorum qua maxima 
 potuerim diligentia adverti : nihil tamen in tanta 
 rerum varietate tarn justam mihi admirationem 
 adfert, quam quod hac proxima superiore cestate 
 ofFenderim te tam nobilem virginem, absente 
 Optimo " pra^ceptore, in aula nobilissimi patris 
 quo tempore reliqui et reliqus venationi et 
 jucunditatibus sese dent, offenderim inquam, 
 w Zeu xoci S-£0J, divinam virginem divinum divini 
 Platonis PhaedonemGraecè sedulò perlegentem, 
 &c. &c. 
 
 See likewise the Scholemaster^ p. 222. Ascham's works, 
 Bennet's edition. 
 
 •^ John Aylmer, afterwards bishop of London. 
 
96 
 
 STANZAS BY Si.VERN SIDE. 
 
 NOV. 1788. 
 
 WRITTEN AT HAM-COURTj THE SEAT OF JOHN MARTIN, EStt, 
 
 Once more my willing feet by Severn stray, 
 Through the soft meads and hospitable grove, 
 Where oft has gleam'd the mild autmnnal day, 
 Still with calm leisure blest and social love. 
 
 Nor yet is wanting Friendship's cordial cheer, 
 Nor charm of female worth, serene and kind : 
 Ah ! pleasing hours, ye speed your light career. 
 Nor heed the gloom that rises thick behind ! 
 
 For soon the wdntry scenes of life must come, 
 Our genial spirits droop, and fancy fade; 
 Disease and death's inevitable doom 
 Too soon must whelm us in the general shade. 
 
 Nor thou, Sabrina, whose perpetual stream 
 With quick succession ceaseless seems to^flow. 
 
§7 
 
 Nymph as thou art, thyself immortal deem, 
 Nor boast to scape the lot of all below. 
 
 Time was, ere huge Plimlhnmon heav'd the breast, 
 Whose bounteous moisture feeds thy infant rill... 
 Those vital springs shall time at length arrest, 
 And slowly mining, sink thy parent hill. 
 
 Again perhaps, as change eternal sways. 
 By potent engines moulding nature's frame. 
 Some lab'ring force profound the mount may raise, 
 Still fountful to revive Sabrina's fame. 
 
 Through virgin meads, new-clad in vernal pride, 
 Shall the young naiad draw her sinuous train, 
 By springing groves and rising turrets glide, 
 Then yield her bridal tribute to the main. 
 
 A second Thyrsis may invoke her aid," 
 
 To free chaste beauty from th' enchanter's spell, 
 
 ' Alluding to the invocation of Sabrina, and the song of Sweet 
 
 Echo, in the masque of Comus. 
 
 H 
 
9S 
 
 While warbled plainings fill the twilight glade. 
 And woo sweet Echo from her aery shell. 
 
 Then too some waning bard, in pensive vein, 
 May strictly meditate sage Spenser's lore;^ 
 Of time and mutability complain, 
 And life's brief periods, fix'd by fate, deplore. 
 
 Yet renovation still succeeds decay, 
 Alternate, as the flood and ebbing tide: 
 The muse, though mortal, hence forbids dismay. 
 Who, cheer'd with hope's bright genius by her side, 
 
 A glance through dim futurity shall dart. 
 Then breathe one last, but elevating strain. 
 Of solemn charm to calm the throbbing heart, 
 Which thought too curious would appal in vain. 
 
 ■ The two cantos of Mutability at the end of the Faery Queen, 
 and the poem entitled the Ruins of Time. 
 
99 
 
 THE EMPIRE OF LOVE. 
 
 A PHILOSOPHICAL POEM. 1770. 
 Quid velit, et possit rerum concordia discors. Horat. 
 
 As o'er wild Cambria's waste I stray 'd, 
 Where in dank squalid weed array 'd, 
 
 Her drooping Oreads mourn; 
 Cupid I spy'd in guise of woe, 
 With languent torch, and slacken'd bow,* 
 
 Beneath a leafless thorn. 
 
 Shrill through the boughs the blast did sing ; 
 And flagging hung his ruffled wing; 
 
 Suppliant and meek his eyes 
 Seem'd human pity to implore : 
 As when he sought Anacreon's door, 
 
 Chiird with inclement skies- 
 
100 
 
 And, ' Thou, who lead'st the world astray, 
 Thyself,' I cry'd, ' hast lost thy way; 
 
 Thy Empire lies not here : 
 Nor myrtle here, nor rose is found; 
 Nor balmy gales waft odours round, 
 
 Softening the soul severe. 
 
 Lo here the Natives hard and rough; 
 Offspring of mountains... breasts of proof 
 
 To blunt thy feeble dart ! 
 Here patience, poverty, and toil;* 
 A sullen clime; a barren soil; 
 
 Steeling each rustic heart ! 
 
 Hence to the wanton Paphian bow'r; 
 There exercise thy bounded pow'r, 
 
 Thy cruelty, thy pride.' 
 Thus with bold folly I revil'd... 
 Scorn lighten'd from his eyes; he smil'd 
 
 Avengement; and replied; 
 
101 
 
 (Oh pardon, if the astonish'd Verse 
 Faulter; aspiring to rehearse 
 
 His grave, but ardent strain; 
 With fire his gesture, mien, and tone 
 Instinct... which Avon's Muse alone 
 
 Had not assay 'd in vain.) 
 
 * Soon shalt thou learn. Scoffer profane, 
 What limits bound my narrow reign; 
 
 How pow'rless here I stray: 
 Soon feel what regions rue me most; 
 Me, the sole Monarch who can boast 
 
 An UNIVERSAL sway. 
 
 All Earth is mine... I rule Supreme, 
 Where Lena's ice-encumber'd stream^ 
 
 Burdens the whitening main; 
 Where Tagus rolls his golden waves; 
 And tepid Guadalquivir laves 
 
 His orange-scented plain. 
 
102 
 
 Fly southward... will the burning Line, 
 Think'st thou, my fierce pursuit confine, 
 
 Or my keen shafts consume? 
 Lurk in Potosi's caverns deep...* 
 Or pant on Quito's tow'ring steep; 
 
 Above the Condor's plume... 
 
 Or seek some undeflow'red isle, 
 Some wild Cal3^pso's green asyle, 
 
 Midst Ocean's folds conceal'd... 
 Thee Ande's crest; chee Plata's cave; 
 Vain fugitive ! thee the virgin wave 
 
 To my fell quest shall yield. 
 
 Whirl'd on the sledge by fleet Rein-deer, 
 Roam the hoar North... A hunter there 
 
 I rouse the silent pole: 
 O'er the blue ice, beneath the snows,* 
 Unquenchable my ardour glows, 
 
 And thaws the freezing soul. 
 
103 
 
 Lo ! from the womb of Zembla's night 
 Springs the quick-sallying lambent Light, 
 
 And in loose glancings plays; 
 Now skirts the Horizon's umber 'd bound; 
 Now canopies the Zenith crown'd 
 
 With undulating rays. 
 
 Those fires let erring Science deem 
 Bright effluence of th' electric stream; ' 
 
 Or from the zodiac hurl'd : 
 But kno^y, whatever vain Sages dream, 
 Shook from this brandish'd torch, they gleam 
 
 Wide o'er each Polar world. 
 
 Oft traversing in frantic mood, 
 
 Strange ominous Phantoms, stain'd with blood, 
 
 Portents to guilt, and fear: 
 Oft faint, in thin pellucid vest 
 Of bridal whiteness Fancy-drest, 
 
 Blithe Elfin Forms appear. 
 
104 
 
 So shift the Forms, which dread or gay, 
 As shifts the great Enchanter's lay, 
 
 Swarm on his magic scene; 
 Stalk round the cauldron's lurid flame, 
 Shaking a murd'rous Tyrant's frame; 
 
 Or charm in iVriel's mien. 
 
 Such meteors aw'd the general sight; ' 
 Mute was the gaze ; with stern delight 
 
 Horror thrill'd every vein; 
 What time first kindling from above 
 Beam'd Brunswic's star... and Heav'nly Love 
 
 Rejoic'd o'er Freedom's reign. 
 
 I saw proud London's crowded ways 
 Catch and reflect the quivering blaze. 
 
 By anxious millions ey'd: 
 The swans, that slept on Thames' smooth breast,' 
 Launch'd forth, as startled from their rest, 
 
 Scar'd on the glimmering tide. 
 
105 
 
 And frequent since those visions bright 
 Gild Albion's mild Love-hallow'd night, 
 
 With radiance all benign; 
 To blooming Hope, and young Desire; 
 Nor less to Freedom's holier fire, 
 
 My still-propitious sign. 
 
 Nor think I sway this Earth alone; 
 Lo ! the pale Vestal of the Moon, 
 
 Bound in my viewless chains. 
 Shall check her team at my command ; 
 And to this strong and guiding hand 
 
 Resign her silver reins. 
 
 On yon green mount what Youth so fair 
 Lies slumbering?... 'tis Endymion's air, 
 
 Of Latmian swains the pride... 
 Ah, Cynthia, whither devious flies 
 Thy car?... that track deserts the skies... 
 
 But Cupid is thy guide. 
 
119« 
 
 Such waodeiing maz d e'en Neutons eyes: * 
 Bte^fdex'd (so ra^ so biind tbe Vise ! ) 
 
 He durst biAas^heme h^' coiirsse 
 Still cottCBOBkcioifes t» his laws... 
 Nor once diviii d, the secret c»ifie 
 
 Was Lox^e's ^nxactive fÌMxre. 
 
 AIbsI imcoiiscious Nei*TX)n s soul 
 
 Of chat prime impuise. whjch the whoie 
 
 Stup^idous Movement lieeis 
 In all its poi(»a^^ which sioooths its tsoil; 
 Abc gives the one Ether^ oil 
 
 To sleek its gliding wheels. 
 
 lifes G^i thoice lireir lan^ relume. 
 That cheer th' erst blank inwiiiintr g^ooui. 
 
 And w-ake the tribes of sense. 
 Still flocking where young Tran^jort roves 
 Thro Beaur\^"s ^>nng; while new-4edg"d Loves 
 
 Her vem^ sat^eets dMpwn«^ 
 
107 
 
 ...Look, hcfw Night's gthtering Mrciads aim 
 Direct oblique, th' elastic fìame 
 
 Sbot from eacb rivid glance! 
 How keen ther point each lacicl tlart ! 
 How Ion? to meet, yet strive to part "" 
 
 In yon Love-lai»Ottr d dance ! 
 
 Thus toumevinj? on tneir native sanda," 
 M-lrieel the light Moors in squadron d bands, 
 
 And iance the sportive jreed ; 
 Involr'd their mazes foil the »^^, 
 Yet regular, as aheraate. flight 
 
 And swift pursuit aueceetl. 
 
 Arciiers of l^ot. whose arrowy 
 
 Aye vibrate; in your course, h Vri-^Vi seems 
 
 Ceaseless to fty, or chase^ 
 Tnough all in silent brightnese move. 
 Those scintilbrtions tell, Ye iovel...** 
 
 Through vast deep^cijarmed space 
 
108 
 
 Tell, how with mutual sense refin'd 
 One pure all-harmonizing Mind 
 
 Endues each kindred Ball : 
 Each through its inmost fabric feels 
 The sp'rit which permeates, and impels, 
 
 Moulds, and empassions all. 
 
 E'en brute Earth feels... with ponderous tide 
 Seas heave tumultuous, and subside; 
 
 Yet burst not Phoebe's bands: 
 Rude Magnets seek their restless Pole:'^ 
 And the lithe Plant, which boasts a soul, 
 
 Now shrinks, and now expands. 
 
 To genial strife, with passion sped,'* 
 By delicate discernment led, 
 
 The energie Atoms tend; 
 In wide Communion's strenuous field, 
 Yielding resist, resisting yield ; 
 
 And shun; and choose; and blend. 
 
109 
 
 Still fond Attraction's wooing strain," 
 And coy Repulsion's nice disdain, 
 
 Their influence interchange: 
 And still, as strong propensions warm, 
 Some chaste reluctance aids the charm, 
 
 Through Love's all-quickening range. 
 
 Such charms all elements combine,'* 
 Which but divide, again to join; 
 
 And join but to divide: 
 Nor e'er will Nature's nuptial law 
 The gordian knot too closely draw; 
 
 Nor void divorce abide. 
 
 Oh mark, when her connubial voice " 
 Assigns each dear peculiar choice 
 
 To finer parts, the embrace 
 What magic sympathy unites ! 
 And how they spurn the unhallow'd rites, 
 
 Which she denies to grace ! 
 
no 
 
 Blush, Avarice vile; blush, sordid Pride; 
 Mean Prostitutes ! nor dare deride 
 
 Great Nature's virtuous lore'... 
 Fervent he spake, contracting now 
 With thoughts abstruse that infant brow, 
 
 Which Men and Gods adore... 
 
 'And perish Hymen, when he binds 
 Ill-suited forms, discordant minds; 
 
 Artificer of woes !... 
 Lo! Nature with lesistless stroke 
 Indignant breaks the unequal yoke, 
 
 His impious laws impose. 
 
 She still through all her functions sage, 
 Spite of dull use, and withering age, 
 
 Primceval force maintains : 
 Brief variances with unions vie ; 
 SwcQt Change, and sober Constancy, 
 
 Wear Concord's golden chains. 
 
Ill 
 
 Thus old oraculous Poets sung,'* 
 
 Yet fabling wild ; when Truth was young ; 
 
 In first-born Fancy's reign: 
 Next Wisdom claim'd the wondrous theme; 
 But e'en the Wise with Fiction's dream 
 
 My mysteries oft profane; 
 
 Which mock their levell'd tube's descry, 
 Piercing the rare translucent sky; 
 
 And microscopic sleight, 
 Sharpening the visual point so fine; 
 And prism, unbraiding the nice twine 
 
 Of colour-blending light : 
 
 Mock their pale vigils, void and vain, 
 Whether, more curious than humane, 
 
 Like Augurs old, they pore 
 On the still-vibrant fibre's frame; 
 Or tending strict their operant flame, 
 
 The chemic vase explore. 
 
112 
 
 Dark is all intellectual view; 
 
 Though purg'd Avdth euphrasy and rue,"' 
 
 Prime optic virtues held; 
 Till crystal drops from Love's clear well 
 The dim suffusion quite dispel... 
 
 And Nature stands reveafd, 
 
 While, by each handmaid Grace undrest/ 
 She yields her veil, and deedal vest; 
 
 All but the zone resigned; 
 Th' enchanting zone, whose mystic spell 
 Could once, as Graecian Muses tell, 
 
 Charm e'en the Sovereign Mind. 
 
 ...Open thou everlasting gate, 
 
 Whose valves display Sol's ample state, 
 
 From Saturn's torpent sphere, 
 To yon Mercurial spherule, roU'd,*' 
 More voluble than burnish'd gold, 
 
 Swift thro' his flaming year. 
 
113 
 
 And lo ! full-plum'd to bear thee high, 
 An Eagle sweeps the sounding sky," 
 
 Prompt at my beck... the same, 
 In whose stark pounce uplifted light 
 Old Chaucer's visionary sprite 
 
 Soar'd to the House of Fame. 
 
 Then, spurning Earth, range Ether's fields. 
 Where he, my lordly servant, wields 
 
 His subject globes around; 
 In gallant Mars... in amorous Jove... 
 In my fair parent orb... from Love 
 
 Shall sanctuary be found ? 
 
 Thrice blest, if once thy favour'd flight 
 On that blithe star of Venus light; 
 
 Heaven's purest-sparkling eye, 
 Whether on morn's fresh prime it pour 
 Bland influence, or the ambrosial hour 
 
 That melts the evening sky ! 
 
114 
 
 For Phosphor, see ! th' enamour'd East 
 Loosely unfolds her azure breast, 
 
 To greet his rising beam; 
 And the fond West hails Hesper, fair ! 
 Sloping to bathe his radiant hair 
 
 In Ocean's taintless stream. 
 
 And yet, with splendor thus adorn, 
 Ihe waxing, or the waning horn ""' 
 
 Is all that Earth surveys... 
 How glorious then, by Hermes seen, 
 The full effulgence, flashing keen 
 
 As one broad diamond's blaze ! 
 
 There Psyche in the immaculate ray, 
 My Psyche, and young Pleasure play,' 
 
 Light-toying, undismay'd : 
 No sister's envious Aviles pursue 
 Her joys, since thither first she flew 
 
 On Zephyr's wing convey 'd, 
 
115 
 
 Till stooping his glad pinions clos'd, 
 And safe tlieir precious freight depos'd, 
 
 IMy bride, and sole-belov'd...' 
 At Psyche's name his voice grew mild ; 
 With grace ineffable he smil'd; 
 
 Me silent transport mov'd; 
 
 Admiring how tliat smiling grace 
 Calm lustre shed o'er the rude face 
 
 Of Nature; and illum'd, 
 Far-beaming round, the desert scene: 
 When more majestic, yet serene, 
 
 Thus gently he resum'd : 
 
 * Oh, for my faithful there what meed 
 Sublime, mysterious rests decreed, 
 
 Let mercy now conceal; 
 Intenser strains of bliss sincere; 
 Which mortal sense would ache to hear, 
 
 And straight dissolve to feel ! 
 
116 
 
 There at Imperial Beauty's shrine, 
 Circled by ^Minstrelsy divine, 
 
 High o'er th' enthusiast quire 
 Urania, Muse of charm severe, 
 With chords, that thrill thro' many a sphere, 
 
 Strings her celestial lyre. 
 
 My puissance chants her noble song... 
 Love, eldest Pow'r, yet ever young; 
 
 Midst Order's reign ador'd ! 
 Love, by each couLtellation bright, 
 Each Occident, and orient Light, 
 
 Own'd Universal Lord ! 
 
 How, through the lessening void compell'd *' 
 By Love, firm compact INIatter held 
 
 With Matter, Mind with Mind ; 
 Till each new globe's broad bosom round 
 My strong-link'd chains enormous wound 
 
 The huge protuberance bind ! 
 
117 
 
 But various orbs th' eternal chain," 
 Here more relaxed, there drawn amain, 
 
 With varying force enfolds: 
 Its proper Hnks each mass must bear; 
 All... light or pond'rous... dense or rare... 
 
 One strong constriction holds ! 
 
 Oft intcrpos'd (here lost, and mute!)^^ 
 Soft plainings of the Jiolian lute 
 
 Divide those solemn lays : 
 Mellifluous warblings melt around; 
 Till, whelming every weaker sound, 
 
 Bursts the full tide of praise. 
 
 Hark, how the choral Spheres combine 
 Their deep symphonious notes divine. 
 
 Awakening raptures high ! 
 While o'er his harp Hyperion bends 
 In sacred silence; and attends 
 
 Heaven's Love-tun'd harmony. 
 
118 
 
 And, couldst thou mount the Comet's wing, 
 Or with Light's nimble spirit spring 
 
 Through every dazzling zone, 
 Where prouder Suns in glory's maze 
 Shine boundless, mingling blaze with blaze...* 
 
 Sudden in loftier tone 
 
 His thundering accents cleft my ear; 
 A giant form he seem'd to rear: 
 
 Earth trembled as dismay 'd... 
 He paus'd: he check'd this swelling strain; 
 Shrunk to his little self again, 
 
 * For thee, poor Worm ! ' he said, 
 
 ^Suthce it, this domain is mine...' 
 
 He aim'd; and from the twanging line 
 
 A vengeful arrow came... 
 * Beneath this thorn here take thy seat; 
 And bid yon echoing rock repeat, 
 
 Though faintly, all my fame,' 
 
T 
 
 I 
 
 119 
 
 Then bow'd the listening mountains round, 
 Won from their trance with wonted sound 
 
 Of harp, and jocund crowd :^' 
 Glisten'd each torrent's foamy bed; 
 And gleam'd old Wythva's snow-bright head, 
 
 Rending his ambient cloud. 
 
120 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 * Cupid I spy' d in guise of icoe, 
 With languent torch, ^c. &"€. 
 
 Ecce Puer Veneris fert eversamque pharetrani, 
 
 Et fractos arcus, et sine luce facem. 
 Adspice demissis ut eat miserabilis alis. 
 
 Ovid, in Morte Tibulli, Eleg. 9. Lib. 3. 
 
 ^ Here patience, poverty, and toil. 
 
 Hie patiens operum, parvoque assueta Juventus. 
 
 ViRG. Georg. 
 
 ^ Where Lena's ice-cncumher' d stream 
 Burthens the whitening main. 
 And tepid Guadalquivir, &c. 
 
 The Lena is the most considerable river of Asiatic 
 Russia, and falls into the frozen or White Sea, which is 
 
121 
 
 said to be more blocked with ice near the mouths of 
 the great rivers than on other parts of the coast. 
 
 The Guadalquivir flou'S through the province of An- 
 dalusia, in Spain, renowned for its climate and orange- 
 groves. 
 
 * Lurk in Poiosi's caverns deep... 
 Or pant on Quito's toiuWmg steep; 
 Above the Condor's plume. 
 
 Potosi, in the province of La Plata, in Peru, famoris 
 for its silver mines. 
 
 Quito, capital of the province of the same name, is 
 situated in the midst of the great chain of mountains, 
 called the Cordillera of the Andes. 
 
 The Condor is a bird of prey, of the vulture kind, 
 but far surpassing the vultures of the old continent in 
 size and strength, which frequents the highest moun- 
 tains of the Andes. " Le fameux oiseau appellò au 
 Perou Condor, que J'ai vu en plusieurs endroits de la 
 province de Quito, se trouve aussi, si ce qu'on m'a as- 
 sure est vrai, dans les pays bas des bords du Maragnon. 
 J'en ai vu planer au dessus d'un troupeau de moutons; 
 il y a apparence que la vue du berger Ics empechoit dc 
 rien entreprendre. C'est une opinion universellement 
 
122 
 
 repandue, que cet oiseau enleve un chevreuil, et qu'il a 
 quelquefois fait sa prole d'un enfant. On pretend que 
 les Indiens lui presentent pour appàt une figure d'enfant 
 d'une argile tres visqueuse^ sur laquelle il fond d'un vol 
 rapide, et qu'il y engage ses serres de maniere qu'il ne 
 lui est plus possible de s'en depétrer." Voyage de la 
 Riviere des Amazones, par M, de la Condamine, 
 page 172. 
 
 ' O'er the Hue ice, &fc. 
 
 '^ La glace est d'un tres beau bleu, semblable a la 
 couleur du vitriol." Description de Spitzbergen, par 
 Frederic Martens, dans le Recueil de Voyages du 
 Nord. 
 
 * Bright efflue7ice of th' electric stream 
 Or from the zodiac hurl'd. 
 
 This alludes to the two most plausible hypotheses 
 which have hitherto been advanced concerning the cause 
 of the Aurora Borealis. The one, that it is of the na- 
 ture of an electrical emanation; the other, that it is a 
 portion of the zodiacal light collected over the polar 
 regions. This luminous appearance in the Zodiac was 
 
123 , 
 
 first remarked with a philosophical eye by Cassini in 
 1 683, and was supposed by him to consist of the ex- 
 treme and rarest part of the solor atmosphere. This 
 M. de Mai RAN, in his elaborate work intitled, "Traile 
 Physique et Historique de l'Aurore Boreale," considers 
 as the great source of that phaenomenon. On the other 
 hand, Dr. Hal lev, treating of the remarkable Aurora 
 Borealis of 17 IG, says, "This sort of light seems to 
 have a great affinity to that which the effluvia of electric 
 bodies emit in the dark." Phil. Trans. Numb. 347. 
 This hint has since been improved and supported with 
 much ingenious speculation. 
 
 ^ Such meteors, &c. 
 What time first kindling from alove 
 Beam'd Brunswic's star, &'c. 
 
 This is meant of the memorable Aurora Borealis 
 which appeared in the spring of 1716, just after the 
 suppression of the rebellion which broke out on the 
 Hanover accession. This was vulgarly supposed the first, 
 but was certainly one of the most extraordinary in- 
 stances of this phaenomenon; which has recurred since 
 that period more frequently than it is recorded to have 
 done before. 
 
124 
 
 ' The swans, that slept, &c. 
 
 This circumstance of the alarm of the swans on the 
 Thames was taken from an ode of Abbate Conti, 
 describing this very Aurora BoreaHsj which he was a 
 spectator of in London. 
 
 Si veggono i sentieri 
 
 Del parco, é di Vaital ^ gli avanzi alteri; 
 
 Van scotendo attoniti le piume 
 
 I cigni che dormian nel cheto fiume. 
 
 Opere del Abbate Conti, pag. 125. 
 
 Such wandering maz'd e'en Newton's eyes, &fc. 
 
 her course 
 
 ' Still contumacious to his laws. 
 
 Alluding to the irregularities of the Moon's motion, 
 not easily reducible to calculation; on which account 
 it has been styled by astronomers Sidus Contumax. 
 Eloge de Halley par M. de Mairan. Histoire de 
 I'Academie des Sciences, 1742. " II avoit forme dc- 
 puis longtemps le projet de rassembler une suite com- 
 
 » Whitehall. 
 
125 
 
 plete d'observations sur les lieux de la Lune, pour les 
 comparer avec ses calculs, et pour reduire enfili à quelque 
 loi constante la course bizarre de cet astre, qu'il appella 
 aussi quelque part Sidus Confumax." 
 
 "* How long to meet, yet strive to part, 
 In yon Love-lalour^ d dance! 
 
 This alludes to the Newtonian doctrine concerning 
 the centripetal and centrifugal forces of the heavenly 
 bodies; or, in other words, their continual effort of 
 tending to, and at the same time receding from each 
 other: which primitive forces are so combined and 
 counterpoised as to keep them all in their respective 
 orbits. These forces, which are known to actuate the 
 solar system, are here supposed to pervade the stellar 
 universe. 
 
 Lucid dart. Lucida tela. Lucret. 
 
 " Thus tourneying on their native sands, 
 Wheel the light Moors, &c. 
 
 This is a kind of tournament which is a favourite 
 diversion among the Turks and Moors, from whom the 
 
126 
 
 Spaniards adopted it. It is particularly described by 
 the Chevalier d'ARViEux, Memoi res/ torn. ii. chap. 3. 
 '^ Le Jeu de Cannes est fort usité chez les Turcs et les 
 Maures, et c'est de ces derniers que les Espagnols l'ont 
 appris. On pousse les chevaux a toutes jambes, on 
 caracolle, et on tache de gagner la croupe du cheval de 
 son adversaire, et pour lors on lui darde la canne, 8cc. 
 Les Turcs, les Maures, et les Arabes sont fort adroits a 
 cet exercice." There is likewise a description of this 
 sport, accompanied with a good engraving, in the Voyage 
 Pittoresque de la Grece. Planche centdixieme, page 1 70. 
 It is there called Tournoi Ture, and was exhibited as an 
 entertainment to the Comte de Ch o i s e u l by a Turkish 
 Aga. 
 
 " Those scintillations tell, Ye love. 
 
 Io veggio in cielo scintillar le stelle 
 Oltre l'usato, é lampeggiar tremanti. 
 Come negli occhi de' cortesi amanti 
 Noi rimiriam talor vive facelle: 
 Aman forse lassuso ! 
 
 Rime di Torquato Tasso, 
 voi. vi. Qu. Venezia 1736. 
 
127 
 
 " Rude magnets seek their restless pole. 
 The Poles of Magnetism are perpetually varying. 
 
 '* To genial strife, ivith passion sped, ^c. 
 And slum, and choose, and blend. 
 
 M. de Maupertuis, in a grave philosophical 
 treatise, intitled " Systeme de la Nature," sect. 14. has 
 the following passage, which may serve at least as an 
 apology for the licence of poetry in ascribing intelli- 
 gence and passion to the elements of matter: *' Une 
 attraction uniforme et aveugle repandue dans toutes les 
 parties de la matiere ne sauroit servir a expliquer com- 
 ment ces parties s'arrangent pour former le corps dont 
 I'organisation est la plus simple. ..II faut avoir recours 
 a quelque principe d'intelligence, a quelque chose de 
 semblable a ce que nous appellons desir, aversion, me- 
 moire.. Qu'on ne s'allarme pas. Sec." 
 
 Oeuvres de Maupertuis, vol. ii. p. 146. 
 
 '' Still fond Attraction's luooing strain. 
 And coy Repulsion's nice disdain, 
 Their influence interchange. 
 ** Where Attraction ceases, there a Repulsive virtue 
 ought to succeed." Newton's Opticks, Query 31. 
 
128 
 
 There is a fragment of the Philosophical Poetry of 
 Empedocles, in which these great forces of Nature, and 
 their perpetual interchange, or succession to each other, 
 seem to be darkly signified, according to the ancient 
 mode of treating such abstruse subjects, under the al- 
 legorical representation of Love or Concord, and Hatred 
 or Discord, ever acting in mutual opposition, and pre- 
 vailing alternately. 
 
 AXXots [J.SV $iÀo7i;r( (r'j'/sc^O[j.£v' zig Iv ditayrx, 
 AXXote §' av Si^' 'syM<xra. (popsvy^sya, Nsi-iisos 'i'X,^ii. 
 
 Henrici Stephani PoesisPhilosophica, p. 21. 
 
 This probably is the doctrine which Horace meant 
 to characterise by the peculiar phrase of " Concordia 
 Discors," in the line prefixed to this Poem; as the name 
 of Empedocles occurs in the following verse. 
 
 '^ Such charms all elements covihiney 
 IVhich hut divide, &c. 
 
 The ceaseless operation of the great principles of 
 Attraction and Repulsion in compounding and decom- 
 pounding all material substances. 
 
 ** Nature seems delighted with transmutations." 
 
 Opticks, Query 30. 
 
129 
 
 '^ Oh mark, when her connubial voice 
 Assigns each dear peculiar choice 
 Tojiner parts, ^c. 
 
 This stanza alludes more particularly to those sub- 
 tile forces of Attraction and Repulsion which are sup- 
 posed to actuate the elementary particles of matter; 
 formerly styled Sympathies and Antipathies, and now 
 of late Affinities, and elective Attractions. See New- 
 ton's Query 31, referred to above; in which these 
 powerful affections of the Jiner parts are exemplified in 
 many curious instances. 
 
 " Thus old oraculous Poets sung, 
 
 Yet falling ivild, ^c 
 
 Next Wisdom clairn'd the ivondrous theme, &'c. 
 
 The ancient mythological Poets, such as Orpheus 
 is represented in the old Argonautic Poem, (see his song 
 in Chiron's Cave, v. 4 19-) Hesiod, Empedocles, &c. 
 who in the infancy of Philosophy involved their doc- 
 trines concerning natural causes, and the origin of 
 
 K 
 
130 
 
 things, in allegory and fable: and the succession of 
 Philosophers in later times, who have investigated the 
 powers of Nature under the various heads of Astro- 
 nomy, Microscopical Researches, Optics, Anatomy, 
 and Chemistry, enumerated in the two following 
 stanzas. 
 
 '' . . . .purg'd ivitli euphrasy and rue. 
 Paradise Lost, book xi. v. 414. 
 
 *° JVkile ly each handmaid Grace undrest, 
 She yields her veil, and dcedal vest, &'c. 
 
 This image was taken from an allegorical picture 
 of Rubens, representing Nature unveiled by the 
 Graces. 
 
 Dcedal, beautifully wrought and variegated; a word 
 authorised by Spenser's use, and by him probably 
 adopted from Lucretius. 
 
 The latter part of this stanza alludes to the well- 
 known fiction in the ]4th book of the Iliad. 
 
131 
 
 *' From Saturn^s torpent sphere 
 
 To yon Mercurial spherule roll'd. 
 More voluble than burnished gold. 
 Swift through kisjlaming year. 
 
 Since this was written, the great Astronomical Ge- 
 nius of the present age, among other noble discoveries, 
 has added a new Planet, far beyond the orbit of Saturn, 
 to the Solar system. He may soon perhaps deprive 
 Mercury of the distinctions, which he still preserves, 
 of beino- the smallest of the Planets, the nearest to 
 the Sun, and performing his revolution in the shortest 
 period. 
 
 ^* An Eagle sweeps the sounding sky. 
 Prompt at my heck. ..the same 
 
 In whose stark pounce uplifted light 
 
 Old Chaucer s visio?iary sprite 
 
 Soar'd to the House of Faine. 
 
 See the description of the Eagle in Chaucer's Dream 
 of the House of Fame. 
 
132 
 
 " Me carrying in his clawis starke 
 As lightly as I had ben a larke, 
 How hye I cannot tellen you," 8cc. 8cc. 
 
 The whole passage is worth reading, as a fine specimen 
 of Chaucer's descriptive talent. 
 
 Fortunate would it have been for the memory of 
 the old Bard, and the gratification of his admirers, 
 if the late excellent Editor of the Canterbury Tales 
 had lived to employ his singular accuracy and learn- 
 ing in doing equal justice to all the other works of 
 Chaucer. 
 
 ^^ The waxing or the waning horn 
 Is all that Earth surveys... 
 How glorious then, ly Hermes seen, 
 The full effulgence, &c. 
 
 The phases of Venus, observed through a telescope, 
 generally exhibit the form of a crescent. Dr. Halley 
 says (Phil. Trans. Numb. 349.) " The greatest bright- 
 ness is when the Planet is about 40 degrees distant 
 from the Sun, when little more than a quarter of her 
 
133 
 
 visible disk is luminous, resembling the moon of about 
 five days old; and though her diameter is at that time 
 but 50 seconds, yet she shines with so strong a beam 
 as to surpass the united light of all the fixt stars that 
 appear with her, and casts a very strong shade on the 
 horizontal plane whereon they all shine.". . . .Mercury 
 is the only Planet to which Venus can appear full-orbed; 
 an appearance, according to the following passage from 
 HuYGENS, of great splendour...'* Nam cum adeo lu- 
 cida nobis Venus appareat quo tempore tenuem nas- 
 centis lunae faciem refcrt, oportet cam sextuplo aut 
 amplius clariorem cerni, cum Soli opponitur, ex Mer- 
 curii globo pieno orbe spectatam, et minore quoque 
 intervallo distantem: atque ita tunc non parum dispel- 
 lere nocturiias tenebras gentibus istis lunse auxilio ca- 
 rentibus." Hu genii Cosmotheoros, p. 94. 
 
 ^* My Psyche, and young Pleasure play. 
 No sister's envious wiles, ^c. 
 
 See the fable of Cupid and Psyche in Apuleius. 
 Spenser mentions Pleasure, the daughter of Cupid and 
 Psyche, in his description of the garden of Adonis. 
 Fairy Queen, b. iii. cant. 6. 
 
134 
 
 " How, through the lessening void compeWd 
 By Love, ^c 
 
 Till each new globe's broad bosom round 
 My strong-link' d chains enormous wound 
 The huge protuberance bind. 
 
 The philosophical allusion in this stanza is to the 
 Newtonian doctrine concerning the mutual gravitation 
 of all the particles of matter, and the spherical figure 
 of the earth and heavenly bodies resulting from this 
 universal principle. 
 
 The former lines are an imitation from Virgil, 
 eel, vi. 
 
 **Namque canebat uti magnum per inane coacta," &c. 
 
 The latter from a passage of bold imagery in a Greek 
 Sapphic Ode, intitled Eì; tr^v Pa.',ar^y. 
 
 Sa ^'vTto cds'jyXa Kpscfsp'Jjv AZTta.hxv 
 'S.i'spyx yuicc^ %on itoXiòis òs(.Xa(r(ras 
 Xfifysrai. . . . 
 
 Brunck Analccta, vol. i. p. 50. 
 
135 
 
 This ode is commonly attributed to Erinna, the com- 
 patriot and cotemporary of Sappho, and supposed to 
 be addrest to the goddess Fortitude: but it is pro- 
 bably of much later composition, as it should seem, 
 from the title and tenour of it, to be a panegyrical 
 address to the Genius of Rome, in the height of her 
 power. 
 
 ^^ But various oris th' eternal cliain. 
 Here more relax" d, there drawn amaiUf 
 JVith varying force enfolds, ^c. 
 
 Alluding to the Newtonian doctrine concerning the 
 different densities of the several bodies which compose 
 the Solar system. 
 
 *^ here lost and mute 
 
 Soft plainings of the ^olian lute. 
 
 Here, that is, upon Earth. ...Nothing remains of 
 Sappho but two short Odes, seemingly imperfect, and 
 some inconsiderable fragments. 
 
 " .... Mollis fidibus querentcm 
 
 Sappho " Ho RAT. 
 
136 
 
 '^ harp and jocund crowd, ^c. 
 
 . . .PVythva's snow-bright head. 
 
 The Crowd, Crwth in Welch, the Grotta Britanna 
 of Martial, is one of the ancient musical instruments 
 of Wales, as well as the Harp. Wythva is the old 
 British name of Snowdon. 
 
137 
 
 In GREENWICH PARK. 
 
 Enough, my muse, of love's delightful pain, 
 And thrilling heartfelt anguish, hast thou sung, 
 At length indignant burst the servile chain 
 When better themes demand thy freeborn tongue. 
 
 AAvake ! awake ! thou fond enervate lyre, 
 For Cupid quits his long-contested sway; 
 Quench'd is his languid torch with nobler fire. 
 As Venus fades before the lamp of day. 
 
 Reflection mild shall heal each latent ill. 
 And kind Oblivion pour her potent balm ; 
 For when the voice of Reason cries ' Be still, ' 
 The troubled breast subsides, and all is calm. 
 
 But wherefore yet beneath the moon's sole eye, 
 Ah! Av^ierefore do I haunt this gloomy grove? 
 Tell me, my heart, what means that smother 'd sigh, 
 Dost thou forget that thou must cease to love.? 
 
138 
 
 Had fortune smil'd, in this sequester'd scene 
 We oft had wander'd where these willows grow, 
 Which bend romantic o'er the margent green 
 To dip their verdure in the spring below; 
 
 Or climbing hand in hand the mountain's side, 
 Seen Thames all loaded with the parting fleet, 
 And great Augusta glitt'ring in her pride ; 
 Then turn'd, and peaceful sought the lov'd retreat. 
 
 Oft in yon valley m ith the converse blest 
 Of sweetness, sense, and elegance refin'd. 
 Her mild advice had charm'd each grief to rest. 
 If e'er I could have griev'd, whilst she was kind. 
 
 Thus fancy, sadly pleas'd with thoughts so dear, 
 One moment sure may innocently stray; 
 Humanity may drop one venial tear, 
 Which Reason's steady hand shall wipe away. 
 
 But all ! ^\'hat sable form in yonder shade 
 Intently pauses, fix'd in pensive woe? 
 
139 
 
 'Tis she, Louisa,'' ever worthy maid : 
 
 Alas! from me what comfort can she know? 
 
 I cannot sooth... then wherefore share her pain, 
 And idly hang the love-dejected head? 
 Or o'er affection's tender smile in vain 
 The ill-according tear of anguish shed ? 
 
 Haste, ere she quite unmans thee, haste away, 
 Ere yet thy ling'ring feet refuse to move : 
 Tell me, my heart, what means this fond delay? 
 Dost thou forget that thou must cease to love? 
 
 June 1748. 
 
 In mourning for the death of a very near relation. 
 
140 
 
 ON SIR ISAAC NEWTON'S MONUMENT, 
 
 AND OTHERS, 
 IN WESTMINSTER-ABBEY. 
 
 I pass'd where NeAvton's awful form reclin'd 
 (Urania hovering o'er the holy place) 
 Receiv'd the general homage of mankind, 
 Due to the glory of the human race.'' 
 
 Illusion mock'd me.. .for, diffused around, 
 A golden cloud conceal'd him from my sight... 
 Heaven-sent, perhaps, to shield him from the wound 
 Of hostile violence or envious spite. 
 
 Awe-struck mid these portentous scenes, I came 
 At length where Britain's bards are rang'd in state; 
 Some, a choice few, whose genius and whose fame 
 No time or tongue may hope to emulate. 
 
 b Conclusion of his Epitaph, 
 
 Sibi gratulentur mortalcs, tale tantumque extltissc, 
 
 HUMANI GENERIS DliCUS. 
 
141 
 
 Anxious I gaz'd...on Shakespear's gentle brow 
 A lambent gleam of fading splendour shin'd : 
 lie droops.. .his finger marks a scroll below; 
 I dimly redd... Leave not a zvreck behind.'' 
 
 But Milton's front, in tenfold terror drest, 
 Seejn'd kindling. ..too severe to be beheld;'^ 
 Such, when his country's cause intlam'd his breast, 
 The pedant's venal slanders he repell'd.'' 
 
 Here my steps faulter''d...on the sacred floor 
 Swooning I sunk, with faint abortive scream; 
 One sudden pang my laboring bosom tore, 
 I started... wak'd... and lo! it was a dream. *^ 
 
 Jan. 1801. 
 
 "^ Inscription from the Tempest on the scroll to which the 
 statue points. 
 
 ■^ Paradise Lost, b. vi. v. 825. 
 Pro populo Anglicano defensio contra Sahnasiuni. 
 
 Kaj yxp r ovolo ìk Atoc smv. 
 
U'2 
 
 CHAMPION 
 FRANCISCO COVENTRIO SUO S. 
 
 QuALis impastiis taciles sercnat 
 Servitor vultus, ubi tinnit liora 
 Septima, et campana monent adesse 
 Stridula casnam; 
 
 Tale perceptis socii tabellis 
 Gaudium sensi: tamen heu iniqua 
 Fata deploro, doleoque Francum 
 Vivere inertem. 
 
 Tune cui lusum puer et cachinnos 
 Dcbco plures, lepidosque risus, 
 Tune jam dormis miser? I jocosa 
 Musa et ami cum 
 
143 
 
 Excita charum milii ; sin inerti 
 Membra lethargo stupeant, pigerque 
 Acriter stertat, jubeo patentem 
 
 Veliere nasum; 
 
 Velie bis terque, ac age, die, caballum 
 Calci]3us tunclens, celer in recessus 
 Virgini sacros propera jNIaria?, 
 
 Flospes amici. 
 
 Haereat dirum crucis execrato 
 Nomini signum, stomachumque inanem 
 Sentiam, tristis dapibus frequenti 
 Exul ab aula; 
 
 Sistat et proctor male inominata 
 Voce me, rubris animosus hostis 
 Vestibus, viso vclut borret alis 
 MiUte Gallus: 
 
 Qui tribus verbis pueros morari 
 Doctus baud segnes, juvenumque cursus, 
 
144 
 
 Vivit ex rapto, et male feriatis 
 
 Abripit aurum. 
 
 Has et infelix patiatur omnes 
 Champion pa3iias, nisi te tuiimque 
 Diligit nasmii, lutea3que Grantee 
 Invidet urbi. 
 
 Tu tamen scribas mihi, sen propinqua 
 Incolas Ilenly loca, qua molarum 
 Saxa torquentur, Thamesisque fractà 
 iEstuat unda; 
 
 Sen per audaces nova syllogismos 
 Verba devohis, Logica?que doctus 
 Artis enthymema rotas, gerisque 
 Garrula bella. 
 
 Die, Etonensis quid agit senatus? 
 Quid caput. Burton, Icpidum jocatur? 
 Clarus an vates operosa Bally 
 
 Carmina fingit? 
 
145 
 
 Anne respond it tibi laureatus 
 Ille nugarum Archipoeta Cibber, 
 ^nei qui te magis occupavit 
 
 Frontis honores? 
 
 Quos ego novi pueros Etonas, 
 Plurimam mitto sociis salutem, 
 Ossea et macri simul altitudo 
 Mittit amici. 
 
 P. S. Proximo lastis lepidus Macartney 
 Termino nobis aderit, paludis 
 Tipperareea^ decus, et paterni 
 
 Gloria stagni. 
 
146 
 
 AD AMICUM FRANCISCUIM COVENTRY 
 
 INGENIUM VERE POETICUM AD STUDIA 
 
 ORIGINUM FEUDALIUM ET ANTIQUITATIS 
 
 TEUTONICA CONVERTENTEM, 
 
 DEHORTATIO. 1748. 
 
 Jam tecum, Pelignum olim Gomitata poetam. 
 
 Musa Getas iterum flebilis exul adit. 
 Jam trepida et pallens, tela inter et horrida castra, 
 
 Discit Normanicé, Saxonicéque loqui. 
 Tuque ore insolito vavasores, fenda, tenuras, 
 
 Soccagium, hommagium, barbara verba crepas. 
 Verba ! quibus semel auditis, aufugit Apollo, 
 
 Diffugere simul Gratia, suada, Venus. 
 Ultro crediderim tam tetra voce locutum 
 
 Attonita e tumulis Gotbica spectra sequi ; 
 Hengistumque, Horsamque, et opertà casside 
 tor vani 
 
 Haroldi specìem, Neustriacumque ducem. 
 
147 
 
 Terribiles formas ! tibi quas cognoscere coram, 
 
 Cernere et Arctoas quum datur Eumenides ; 
 Nonne fremes subita penitus formidine terpens, 
 
 Nee cithara e trepida decidet iota manu? 
 Nonne tuiim, quicquid viguit molle atque facetum, 
 
 Tum fiet scopulo durius ingenium? 
 Ceu miseri ^thiopes quondam, Phineia turba, 
 
 Gorgonis ad visum diriguere caput. 
 Nulla aderit Pallas, quse te super .^gida amicam 
 
 Tendat, et hostiles arceat inde minas; 
 At Geticus Mayors, vinclo qui sasvus aheno 
 
 Et regem, et proceres vinciat, et populum,' 
 Te leget insuetum bellis, onerabit et armis, 
 
 Atque gravi invalidas instruct ense manus. 
 Nil nisi bella loquére...etiamque in pace duelli 
 
 Per ludum species pars feritatis erit.'' 
 Excitumque gemes a relligione furorem 
 
 In mortale videns ScEviiis ire genus; 
 Atque crucem gladio fungi vice cotis acuto,' 
 
 Prob scelus! et sanctas Cccde rubere manus. 
 
 * Systema feudale. '' Torneamenta ■ Cru^ad^ 
 
148 
 
 Heu Christi malesuada fides '....crudelis Erinnys, 
 
 Atque avida ante alias sanguinis ilia iuit. 
 Hoc tamen eventu felix insania scro, 
 
 Hinc quod Tor([uati nobile surgit epos. 
 At tibi ilieenduni est, longùm vale Itala musa; 
 
 At tibi, musa vale Gra?ea, Latina vale. 
 Forsan barbarico Scald us fera carmina rythmo 
 
 Detonet, horrcndum Teutonicumque melos... 
 Tu Maro tu vel Ilomere silc.dum cantor odini, 
 
 Iselandumve strepens grandior Edda sonet; 
 Concelebretque viros, septem quibus omne trioni 
 
 Subjectum, omne gclu cessit, et omnis hyems, 
 Quumque sol^cismos, et tintinnabula vocum 
 
 Porrecto infelix audieris jugulo; 
 MoUiter heu (Iraià frustra nutrite Camenà, 
 
 Quid tibi tunc animi, quis tibi sensus erit! 
 Qui triplici patulas cera catus illinat aures, 
 
 Dulichiuni ut cupies tristis adesse virum 
 Hii^c te, et mille alia, at quo? non depingere possim. 
 
 Te male si perstes perdere, monstra manent... 
 Non te nequities scythicum tua pcllit in orbem, 
 
 Nec rctlitum divi Citsaris ira negat. 
 
u- 
 
 149 
 
 Quo mis, o meliore puer digiiissime fato, 
 
 Et cui barbaries parcerct ipsa lubeus ! 
 Tune sacros linquis fontes? neque te juga Pindi 
 
 Nee poterit Phoebi te retinere chorus? 
 Nee peritura tenet crudeli funere musa, 
 
 Quam miseram immitis per loca dira trains? 
 Dum reditus patet, ergo redi... sua torvus Apollo 
 
 A te jamduduni munera spreta dolet; 
 Forsitan exorandus adhuc.si contrahat arcum, 
 
 -Haud ulla iratum tlectere v-ota valent. 
 
150 
 
 ODE. 
 
 O! SACRA Jano, quam celebrai recens 
 Annus natalem, mi celebratior, 
 
 Non laude grata, nec carebis 
 
 Candidiore Dies lapillo. 
 
 Tuque O, supremos gaudìa si juvent 
 Humana Divos, hue geminos, Bifrons, 
 
 Hue flecte vultus, et beatis 
 
 Aspice Caslicolis homullum 
 
 Beatiorem. Jam vetus irritam 
 Precem, et querelas, et gemitus graves 
 Inclusit annus: seculumque 
 Splendidius renovatur auro, 
 
151 
 
 Largum honorum, queis Veneris novum 
 Ditet sodalem; cui, miseram diu 
 Hàc luce fortunam rependens, 
 Favit amor, facilisque nympha. 
 
 Hàc Laureatus praelia Caesaris 
 
 Describat, alto digna silentio, 
 Ausoque non impar poeta 
 Facta canat, placidosque mores: 
 
 Me musa lastum dulcis amiculse 
 Risus procaces, me jubet humida 
 Laudare me expertum labella, 
 Atque oculos liquidum micantes, 
 
 Cum dormientem virgo cupidinem 
 
 Lasciva luxu suscitet osculi 
 Hcerentis, insuetas papillas 
 Et cupiens, metuensque tangi... 
 
152 
 
 Demens ! quid ultra soUicito lyram 
 
 Haud obsequentem, heu ! ccetera nee potis, 
 
 Jam vi voluptatis laborans, 
 
 Dicere, nee patiens taeere? 
 
153 
 
 Calendis Januarii Anno Salutis 1744. 
 
 CHAMPION LYTTELTONI SUO S. 
 
 Maxime o quondam pretiosum alumnae 
 Munus Etona?, quid, Amice, Jani 
 Quid tibi sacris deceat calendis 
 
 Chare precari? 
 
 Semper ut membris aniinoque nym^phas 
 Integer laudes; ut et lume in annum 
 Laetus et plures, meritoque vivas 
 i > Auctus houore. 
 
 Te mibi nostri memorem, sodalem 
 Te frui fas sit, studioque sacris 
 Dedito musis, et amore lentum 
 
 Fallerc tempus. 
 
154 
 
 Ber^A'ici, Auo". 1771. 
 
 MISERERE 
 
 EQUI ANGLI IN SCOTIA PEREGRIN ANTIS 
 
 E ScoTis reduci jam vise nitentior amnis, 
 
 Salve iterum, et sordes ablue Tweede meas. 
 Tu terr£e AngliaciE quamvis borealior ora, 
 
 Munda tamen, propero pande benigna sinum. 
 Te, tua progenies, lastis hinnitibus auras 
 
 En quatiens patrias, ipse salutat equus. 
 Fas sit spurcitiem Scotorum odisse caballum 
 
 Angligenam, insuetum digna pudore pati. 
 Nobile namque, decensque, et amicum hoc mun- 
 di tiarum 
 
 Esse animal, testor te, geniumque tuum, 
 O Lemuel, qui solus equis regnata petisti 
 
 Arva, reperta novo cuncta lepore notans... 
 
155 
 
 Ergo ubi, turpe genus, foedi dominantur Yahooas, 
 
 Exultans meritò littora linquìt equus. 
 Quadrupedi illic cruda fames pra^sepia servans, 
 
 Perque vias salebrse, frigus, et imber adest. 
 Illic perpetuo graviter sonat ungula saxo, 
 
 Afflictum mollis nec levat herba pedem. 
 Quumque subit lacerum, nimboso vespere, tectum, 
 
 Nulla manus strigili curat amica cutem ; 
 Non fragrans unquam solvit jejunia fenum, 
 , Nec fesso faciunt stramina sicca torum ; 
 Sed paleiE, mucosa fimoque simillima putri, 
 
 Portio, tum parca heec, vix lapidemque tegens, 
 Sternitur...Ille exosus olens, spurcumque cubile, 
 
 Stat tota insomnis nocte, doletque vicem. 
 Pro faino, lolium, et, mistus ftutentibus herbis, 
 
 Scoticus in capuani carduus ipse venit; 
 Os asini durum quem non impune lacessat, 
 
 Ultorem spinis, vulnificumque, suis. 
 Ipsae, quod solum tellus producit, avenge 
 
 Vanescunt, solidi vix le vis umbra cibi... 
 Quales, dum dominus poma ipse fugacia captat, 
 
 Haud male Tantaleum ludificentur equum. 
 
156* 
 
 Has igitiir, quas Sol non maturavit iniquus, 
 
 Et carie infecit jam pluvialis hyems, 
 Naribus intactas afflat, speriiitque superbis; 
 
 Tanto illi potior sordibus ipsa fames. 
 Inde^ cavos oculos, horrentem in corpore pilum, 
 
 Exstantes costas, quas numerare licet; 
 Squalentemque jub?e, caudtequejacentis, honorem, 
 
 Atque pedum saxis cornua fracta vides... 
 Anglia, nobilium domitrix, et mater equorum, 
 
 Cerne hxc, et prolis jam miserere tuae. 
 Tu latices puros, tu pabula Iceta ministra, 
 
 Tu substerne levi molila prata pedi; 
 Atque huic munimen ferrum faber optimus aptet, 
 
 Sentiat et doctas ungula lassa manus. 
 Ut longùm vacujc sit ventris cura, precamur; 
 
 Longijm neglectse sit bona cura cutis; 
 Stramineoque toro, lenimen dulce laborum, 
 
 Compositos artus sopiat alta quies. 
 Usque tui celeris referant sic pra^mia palmae, 
 
 Tardipedesque alii jure habeantur equi ! 
 Sic tibi Gallorum, non a^quo marte, cohortes 
 
 Ipso bellator pendere sternat eques!.,. 
 
Ì57 
 
 Annuiti' his votìs? an vanum fallit imago?... 
 
 Annuis...ecce cuti jam redit ipse nitor... 
 Et, bene ceu pasto, redeunt in corpore carnes... 
 
 Concrevit solidus pes...ocuìique vigent... 
 Quceque modo verrebathumum, jam vcrbere cauda^ 
 
 Alterno impatiens urget utrumque latus. 
 Tum clarè, in Boream converso clune, pepedit... 
 
 Audiat hunc crepitum Scotia, et erubeat... 
 Ilicet ipse alacrem conscendo, hoc omine Itetus, 
 
 Arripioque tuum, Patria dulcis, iter. 
 
158 
 
 ON BOURNE'S POEMS. 
 
 Antiquo mihi das nova carmina tincta lepore,'' 
 Queis insunt lacrymte, gaudia, vota, sales. 
 
 Hcec quoties recolam, dulcique in munere verser, 
 Carole, qiii possim non meminisse tui ? 
 
 Nam lepidi ingenii est, et caltffi mentis imago 
 Hie liber; et Charites pagina qu£eque sapit. 
 
 Vincenti! Bournei poentiata. 
 
 THE END. 
 
I 
 
 Note on the Lines entitled " By the Author 
 in the Person of a Lady of whom he was 
 
 enamoured." Page 21. 
 
 These lines were found in Mr. Champion's hand-writing, 
 among those compositions which are undoubtedly hisj and 
 the Publisher did not then know that they appear, with several 
 variations, in the fourth volume of Dodsley's Miscellanies, 
 edit. 1782, and are there ascribed to Lord Hervey. 
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page 59, line 3, for Ju; iaK^vra read S'us-JaxjuTa. 
 143, line 8, for Flospes read Hospcs. 
 
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