Chaste and subdued the modest lights decay,
Steal into shades, and mildly melt away.

And see where Anthony," in tears approved, 115
Guards the pale relics of the chief he loved :
O'er the cold corse the warrior seems to bend,
Deep sunk in grief, and mourns his murder'd friend!
Still as they press, he calls on all around,
Lifts the torn robe, and points the bleeding wound.

But who is he, whose brows exalted bear A wrath impatient, and a fiercer air? Awake to all that injured worth can feel, On his own Rome he turns the avenging steel; Yet shall not war's insatiate fury fall

(So heaven ordains it) on the destined wall. See the fond mother, 'midst the plaintive train, Hung on his knees, and prostrate on the plain!

121

125

VARIATION.

Ver. 122. A rage impatient, and a fiercer air?

E'en now his thoughts with eager vengeance doom
The last sad ruin of ungrateful Rome.
Till, slow advancing o'er the tented plain,
In sable weeds, appear the kindred train :
The frantic mother leads their wild despair,
Beats her swoln breast, and rends her silver hair;
And see, he yields! the tears unbidden start,
And conscious nature claims the unwilling heart!
O'er all the man conflicting passions rise;

See the tragedy of Julius Cæsar.

h Coriolanus. See Mr. Spence's Dialogue on the Odyssey.

130

Touch'd to the soul, in vain he strives to hide
The son's affection, in the Roman's pride:
O'er all the man conflicting passions rise;
Rage grasps the sword, while Pity melts the eyes.

Thus, generous Critic, as thy Bard inspires,
The sister Arts shall nurse their drooping fires;
Each from his scenes her stores alternate bring, 135
Blend the fair tints, or wake the vocal string:
Those sibyl leaves, the sport of every wind,
(For poets ever were a careless kind,)
By thee disposed, no farther toil demand,
But, just to Nature, own thy forming hand.

So spread o'er Greece, the harmonious whole
unknown,

E'en Homer's numbers charm'd by parts alone.
Their own Ulysses scarce had wander'd more,
By winds and waters cast on every
shore:

140

When, raised by fate, some former Hanmer join'd
Each beauteous image of the boundless mind; 146
And bade, like thee, his Athens ever claim

A fond alliance with the Poet's name.

Ver. 136. Spread the fair tints, or wake the vocal string : 146. Each beauteous image of the tuneful mind;

DIRGE IN CYMBELINE,

SUNG BY GUIDERUS AND ARVIRAGUS Over fidele,

SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD.

To fair Fidele's grassy tomb

Soft maids and village hinds shall bring
Each opening sweet of earliest bloom
And rifle all the breathing spring!

No wailing ghost shall dare appear

To vex with shrieks this quiet grove

But shepherd lads assemble here,
And melting virgins own their love.

No wither'd witch shall here be seen

No goblins lead their nightly crew The female fays shall haunt the green, And dress thy grave with pearly dew!

5

10

VARIATIONS.

Ver. 1. To fair Pastora's grassy tomb

7. But shepherd swains assemble here, 12. And dress thy bed with pearly dew!

4

The redbreast oft, at evening hours,
Shall kindly lend his little aid,
With hoary moss, and gather'd flowers,

To deck the ground where thou art laid.

When howling winds and beating rain,

In tempests shake the sylvan cell; Or 'midst the chase, on every plain,

15

The tender thought on thee shall dwell; 20

Each lonely scene shall thee restore;
For thee the tear be duly shed;
Beloved till life can charm no more,
And mourn'd till Pity's self be dead.

VARIATIONS.

Ver. 17. When chiding winds, and beating rain,
In tempest shake the sylvan cell;

Or 'midst the flocks, on every plain,

21. Each lovely scene shall thee restore;
23. Beloved till life could charm no more,

VERSES

WRITTEN ON A PAPER WHICH CONTAINED A PIECE OF

BRIDE-CAKE, GIVEN TO THE AUTHOR BY A LADY.

YE curious hands, that, hid from vulgar eyes,
By search profane shall find this hallow'd cake,
With virtue's awe forbear the sacred prize,

Nor dare a theft, for love and pity's sake!

This precious relic, form'd by magic power,

Beneath her shepherd's haunted pillow laid, Was meant by love to charm the silent hour, The secret present of a matchless maid.

5

The Cyprian queen, at Hymen's fond request, 9 Each nice ingredient chose with happiest art; Fears, sighs, and wishes of the enamour'd breast, And pains that please, are mix'd in every part.

With rosy hand the spicy fruit she brought,

From Paphian hills, and fair Cythera's isle; 14 And temper'd sweet with these the melting thought, The kiss ambrosial, and the yielding smile.