12 "I spoke, nor Fate forbore his trembling spoil; Some venal mourner lent his careless aid, And soon they bore me to my native soil, Where my fond parents' dear remains were laid. 13 ""Twas then the youths, from every plain and grove, 14 But why, alas! the tender scene display? 15 "Thus was I bosom'd in the peaceful grave; 16 "Shall my poor corse, from hostile realms convey'd, 17 "Say, would thy breast no death-like torture feel, To see them gash'd beneath the daring steel? ? 18 "If Pæan's sons these horrid rites require, 19 "Yet hard it seems, when Guilt's last fine is paid, 20 "Where is the faith of ancient Pagans fled? 21 " Arise, dear Youth! even now the danger calls; ELEGY XXIII. REFLECTIONS SUGGESTED BY HIS SITUATION. 1 Born near the scene for Kenelm's fate 1 renown'd, 2 Fast by the centre of yon various wild, Kenelm's fate:' Kenelm, in the Saxon heptarchy, was heir to the Kingdom of Mercia; but being very young at his father's death, was, by the artifices of his sister and her lover, deprived of his crown and life together. The body was found in a piece of ground near the top of Clent hill, exactly facing Mr Shenstone's house, near which place a church was afterwards erected to his memory, still used for divine worship, and called St Kenelm's. Soft o'er his birth, and o'er his infant hours, 4 But soon the bosom's pleasing calm is flown; 5 How kind were Fortune! ah, how just were Fate ! 6 See, garnish'd for the chase, the fraudful maid 7 But now, nor shaggy hill, nor pathless plain, 8 Where the rough bowman urged his headlong steed, Immortal bards, a polish'd race, retire; And where hoarse scream'd the strepent horn, succeed The melting graces of no vulgar lyre. 9 See Thomson, loitering near some limpid well, For Britain's friend the verdant wreath prepare! Or, studious of revolving seasons, tell How peerless Lucia made all seasons fair! 10 See from civic garlands fly, And in those groves indulge his tuneful vein! 11 Here Pope-ah! never must that towering mind 12 Where is the breast can rage or hate retain, And these glad streams and smiling lawns behold? 13 Through these soft shades delighted let me stray, While o'er my head forgotten suns descend! Through these dear valleys bend casual way, my Till setting life a total shade extend! 14 Here, far from courts, and void of pompous cares, 15 Canst thou, O Sun! that spotless throne disclose, Where her bold arm has left no sanguine stain? Where, show me where, the lineal sceptre glows, Pure as the simple crook that rules the plain ! 16 Tremendous pomp! where hate, distrust, and fear, 17 There, with the friendly wish, the kindly flame, 18 There coward Rumours walk their murderous round; The glance, that more than rural blame instils; Whispers that, tinged with friendship, doubly wound; Pity that injures, and concern that kills. 19 There anger whets, but love can ne'er engage; There all men smile, and Prudence warns the wise 20 There all are rivals! sister, son, and sire, 21 Let servile minds one endless watch endure; Day, night, nor hour, their anxious guard resign; 22 Yes; may my tongue disdain a vassal's care; More warm to merit, more elate to wear 23 Soothed by the murmurs of my pebbled flood, |