weave his garland by the best model he could find; with what success, beyond his own amusement, must be left to judges less partial to him than either his acquaintance or his friends.-If any of those should be so candid as to approve the variety of subjects he has chosen, and the tenderness of sentiment he has endeavoured to impress, he begs the metre also may not be too suddenly condemned. The public ear, habituated of late to a quicker measure, may perhaps consider this as heavy and languid; but an objection of that kind may gradually lose its force, if this measure should be allowed to suit the nature of Elegy.

If it should happen to be considered as an objection with others, that there is too much of a moral cast diffused through the whole; it is replied, that he endeavoured to animate the poetry so far as not to render this objection too obvious, or to risk excluding the fashionable reader; at the same time never deviating from a fixed principle, that poetry without morality is but the blossom of a fruit-tree. Poetry is indeed like that species of plants which may bear at once both fruits and blossoms; and the tree is by no means in perfection without the former, however it may be embellished by the flowers which surround it,

ELEGIES,

ON DIFFERENT OCCASIONS.

Tantum inter densas, umbrosa cacumina, fagos
Assidue veniebat; ibi hæc incondita, solus,
Montibus et silvis studio jactabat inani !
The spreading beech alone he would explore
With frequent step; beneath its shady top,
(Ah, profitless employ !) to hills and groves
These indigested lays he wont repeat.

VIRG.

HE ARRIVES AT HIS RETIREMENT IN THE COUNTRY, AND TAKES OCCASION TO EXPATIATE IN PRAISE OF SIMPLICITY.

To a friend.

FOR rural virtues, and for native skies,

I bade Augusta's venal sons farewell;
Now mid the trees I see my smoke arise,
Now hear the fountains bubbling round my cell.

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 unsincere !
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!

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!
Still may the mourner, lavish of his tears,
For Lucre's venal meed invite my scorn!
Still may the bard, dissembling doubts and fears,
For praise, for flattery sighing, sigh forlorn!
Soft as the line of love-sick 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.
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.
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.
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!'
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!
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.

Where with Enone thou hast worn the day,
Near fount or stream, in meditation, rove;
If in the grove Enone loved to stray,

The faithful Muse shall meet thee in the grove.

ON POSTHUMOUS REPUTATION.
To a friend.

O 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.
When the free spirit quits her humble frame,
To tread the skies with radiant garlands crown'd;
Say, will she hear the distant voice of Fame?
Or, hearing, fancy sweetness in the sound?
Perhaps e'en Genius pours a slighted lay;
Perhaps e'en Friendship sheds a fruitless tear;
E'en Lyttelton but vainly trims the bay,

And fondly graces Hammond's mournful bier. Though weeping virgins haunt his favour'd urn, Renew their chaplets and repeat their sighs; Though near his tomb Sabæan odours burn, The loitering fragrance will it reach the skies? 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. 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.

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? 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?

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? 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.

ON

THE UNTIMELY DEATH OF A CERTAIN LEARNED ACQUAINTANCE.

IF proud Pygmalion quit this cumbrous frame, Funereal pomp the scanty tear supplies; Whilst heralds loud, with venal voice, proclaim, 'Lo! here the brave and the puissant lies.' When humbler Alcon leaves his drooping friends, Pageant nor plume distinguish Alcon's bier; The faithful Muse with votive song attends,

And blots the mournful numbers with a tear.