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,
To gaze at her, ev'n DONNs were feen 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 feniors of the Trojan race

Were forc'd thofe fatal beauties to admire,

That all their youth confum'd, and fet their town on fire.
At fam'd NEWMARKET oft I spend the day

An unconcern'd spectator of the play;
There pitiless 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 disputes 'twixt seven and five remain,
And each, like parties, have their friends for gain,

* Vid. Hom. II. Lib. III. Ver. 150,

[blocks in formation]

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 slender limbs they strain,
And foaming stretch along the velvet plain!
Ah stay! swift steeds, your rapid flight delay,
No more the jockey's smarting lash 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 stray,
Where'er or choice, or chance directs the way:
Or view the op'ning lawns, or private woods,
Or diftant blaish hills, or filver floods :
Now harmless birds in filken nets infnare,

Now with fwift dogs pursue the flying hare :
Dull sports! 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 clasp 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 sublime to last,
And quickly fade, like all the real ones past ;
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 pleafing vision in a moment's gone,

And I once more am wretched, and alone.

So when glad ORPHEUS from th' infernal shade

Had juft recall'd his long-lamented maid,

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

Loft in eternal night-again fhe dies.

[blocks in formation]

To a LAD Y.

SENT WITH A PRESENT OF SHELLS AND STONES

WIT

DESIGNED FOR A GROTTO.

TH gifts like these, 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 philosophic eyes ;

And fuch are yours, 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 meanest kinds,

A juft obferver entertainment finds,

With fond delight her low productions fees,
And how she gently rises by degrees;

A fhell,

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 fhine,
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 halfeir 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 unseen shall o'er them rise,
New order from your hand, new luftre from your eyes.
How sweet, how charming will appear this Grot,
When by your art to full protection brought!

Here verdant plants, and blooming flow'rs will grow,
There bubbling currents thro' the fhell-work flow;
Here coral mixt with fhells of various dyes,

There polifh'd ftones will charm our wand'ring eyes: Delightful bow'r of blifs! fecure retreat!

Fit for the Mufes, and STATIRA's feat.

But

« PredošláPokračovať »