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HE ARRIVES AT HIS RETIREMENT IN THE COUNTRY, AND
TAKES OCCASION TO EXPATIATE IN PRAISE OF SIM-
PLICITY. TO A FRIEND.

1 FOR rural virtues, and for native skies,
I bade Augusta's 1 venal sons farewell;
Now 'mid the trees I see my smoke arise,
Now hear the fountains bubbling round

my

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2 O may that Genius, which secures my rest,
Preserve this villa for a friend that's dear!
Ne'er may my vintage glad the sordid breast,
Ne'er tinge the lip that dares be insincere! (?)

''Augusta:' London.

Α

3 Far from these paths, ye faithless Friends, depart! Fly my plain board, abhor my hostile name!

Hence the faint verse that flows not from the heart, But mourns, in labour'd strains, the price of fame!

4 O loved Simplicity! be thine the prize!
Assiduous Art correct her page in vain!
His be the palm, who, guiltless of disguise,
Contemns the power the dull resource to feign!

5 Still may the mourner, lavish of his tears
For lucre's venal need, invite my scorn!
Still may the bard, dissembling doubts and fears,
For praise, for flattery sighing, sigh forlorn!

6 Soft as the line of lovesick Hammond flows,
"Twas his fond heart effused the melting theme;
Ah! never could Aonia's hill disclose

So fair a fountain, or so loved a stream.

7 Ye loveless Bards! intent with artful pains To form a sigh, or to contrive a tear!

Forego your Pindus, and on

plains

Survey Camilla's charms, and grow sincere.

8 But thou, my Friend! while in thy youthful soul
Love's gentle tyrant seats his awful throne,
Write from thy bosom-let not art control
The ready pen, that makes his edicts known.

9 Pleasing, when youth is long expired, to trace The forms our pencil or our pen design'd! "Such was our youthful air, and shape, and face! Such the soft image of our youthful mind!"

10 Soft, whilst we sleep beneath the rural bowers,
The Loves and Graces steal unseen away;
And where the turf diffused its pomp of flowers,
We wake to wintry scenes of chill decay!

11 Curse the sad fortune that detains thy fair; Praise the soft hours that gave thee to her arms; Paint thy proud scorn of every vulgar care,

When hope exalts thee, or when doubt alarms.

12 Where with Oenone thou hast worn the day,
Near fount or stream, in meditation, rove;
If in the grove Oenone loved to stray,
The faithful Muse shall meet thee in the grove.

ELEGY II.

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OF THE

UNIVER
CALL

ON POSTHUMOUS REPUTATION.-TO A FRIEND.

10 grief of griefs! that Envy's frantic ire
Should rob the living virtue of its praise;
O foolish Muses! that with zeal aspire
To deck the cold insensate shrine with bays.

2 When the free spirit quits her humble frame,

To tread the skies with radiant garlands crown'd; ang
Say, will she hear the distant voice of Fame?
Or, hearing, fancy sweetness in the sound?

3 Perhaps even Genius pours a slighted lay;
Perhaps even Friendship sheds a fruitless tear;
Even Lyttleton but vainly trims the bay,
And fondly graces Hammond's mournful bier.

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4 Though weeping virgins haunt his favour'd urn,
Renew their chaplets, and repeat their sighs;
Though near his tomb Sabæan odours burn,
The loit'ring fragrance will it reach the skies?

5 No; should his Delia votive wreaths prepare,
Delia might place the votive wreaths in vain:
Yet the dear hope of Delia's future care

Once crown'd his pleasures, and dispell'd his pain.

6 Yes the fair prospect of surviving praise
Can every sense of present joys excel;

For this, great Hadrian chose laborious days;
Through this, expiring, bade a gay farewell.

7 Shall then our youths, who Fame's bright fabric raise,
To life's precarious date confine their care?

O teach them you to spread the sacred base,
To plan a work through latest ages fair!

8 Is it small transport, as with curious eye
You trace the story of each Attic sage,
To think your blooming praise shall time defy?
Shall waft, like odours, through the pleasing page

9 To mark the day when, through the bulky tome,
Around your name the varying style refines?
And readers call their lost attention home,
Led by that index where true genius shines?

10 Ah! let not Britons doubt their social aim,
Whose ardent bosoms catch this ancient fire;
Cold interest melts before the vivid flame,
And patriot ardours but with life expire.

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