Obrázky na stránke
PDF
ePub

Her fons, tho' few, not PALLAS cou'd defend,
Nor DULNESS fuccour to her thousands lend;
Love like a fever with infectious rage

Scorch'd up the young, and thaw'd the froft of age,

Το

gaze

at her, ev'n DONNS were seen to run,

And leave unfinish'd pipes, and authors-scarce begun. *So HELEN look'd, and mov'd with fuch a grace, When the grave seniors of the Trojan race

Were forc'd those fatal beauties to admire,

That all their youth confum'd, and fet their town on fire.
At fam'd NEWMARKET oft I fpend the day
An unconcern'd fpectator of the play;
There pitilefs obferve the ruin'd heir

With anger fir'd, or melting with despair;
For how fhou'd I his trivial lofs bemoan,
Who feel one, fo much greater, of my own?
There while the golden heaps, a glorious prize,
Wait the decifion of two rival dice,

Whilft long difputes 'twixt feven and five remain,
And each, like parties, have their friends for gain

* Vid. Hom. Il. Lib. III. Ver. 150.

13

Without

Without one wish I fee the guineas fhine,
Fate, keep your gold, I cry, make CHLOE mine.

Now fee, prepar'd their utmost speed to try,
O'er the smooth turf the bounding racers fly!
Now more and more their flender limbs they strain,
And foaming stretch along the velvet plain!
Ah ftay! fwift fteeds, your rapid flight delay,
No more the jockey's fmarting lafh obey:
But rather let my hand direct the rein,
And guide your steps a nobler prize to gain;
Then swift as eagles cut the yielding air,
Bear me, oh bear me to the absent fair.

Now when the winds are hufh'd, the air ferene,
And chearful funbeams gild the beauteous scene,
Penfive o'er all the neighb'ring fields I ftray,
Where'er or choice, or chance directs the way:
Or view the op'ning lawns, or private woods,
Or diftant bluish hills, or filver floods:
Now harmless birds in filken nets infnare,
Now with swift dogs purfue the flying hare:
Dull fports! for oh my CHLOE is not there!

}

Fatigu❜d,

Fatigu'd, at length I willingly retire
To a small study, and a cheerful fire;
There o'er fome folio pore, I pore 'tis true,
But oh my thoughts are fled, and fled to you!
I hear you, fee you, feaft upon your eyes,
And clafp with eager arms the lovely prize;
Here for a while I cou'd forget my pain,
Whilft I by dear reflection live again:
But ev❜n these joys are too fublime to last,
And quickly fade, like all the real ones paft;
For just when now beneath fome filent grove
I hear you talk and talk perhaps of love-

Or charm with thrilling notes the lift'ning ear,
Sweeter than angels fing, or angels hear,

My treach❜rous hand its weighty charge lets go,
The book falls thund'ring on the floor below,
The pleasing vision in a moment's gone,

And I once more am wretched, and alone.

So when glad ORPHEUS from th' infernal shade

Had just recall'd his long-lamented maid,

Soon as her charms had reach'd his eager eyes,

Loft in eternal night again fhe dies.

To a LADY,

SENT WITH A PRESENT OF SHELLS AND STONES

W

DESIGNED FOR A GROTTO.

TH gifts like thefe, the spoils of neighb'ring fhores,

The Indian fwain his fable love adores;

Off'rings well fuited to the dusky shrine
Of his rude goddess, but unworthy mine:
And yet they seem not such a worthless prize,
If nicely view'd by philofophic eyes;

And fuch are your's, that nature's works admire

With warmth like that, which they themselves inspire.
To fuch how fair appears each grain of fand,
Or humbleft weed, as wrought by nature's hand!
How far fuperior to all human pow'r

Springs the green blade, or buds the painted flow'r !
In all her births, tho' of the meaneft kinds,

A juft obferver entertainment finds,

With fond delight her low productions fees,
And how the gently rifes by degrees;

A shell,

A fhell, or ftone, he can with pleasure view,
Hence trace her nobleft works, the heav'ns-and you,

Behold, how bright these gaudy trifles shine,
The lovely sportings of a hand divine!

See with what art each curious fhell is made,
Here carv'd in fretwork, there with pearl inlaid!
What vivid ftreaks th' enamell'd ftones adorn,
Fair as the paintings of the purple morn!

Yet ftill not half their charms can reach our eyes,
While thus confus'd the sparkling chaos lies;
Doubly they'll please, when in your grotto plac'd,
They plainly speak their fair disposer's taste;
Then glories yet unfeen shall o'er them rife,
New order from your hand, new luftre from your eyes.
How fweet, how charming will appear this Grot,
When by your art to full perfection brought!
Here verdant plants, and blooming flow'rs will grow,
There bubbling currents thro' the fhell-work flow;
Here coral mixt with shells of various dyes,

There polish'd stones will charm our wond'ring eyes :
Delightful bow'r of bliss! fecure retreat!

Fit for the Muses, and STATIRA's feat.

Bur

« PredošláPokračovať »