The ftill returning tale, and ling'ring jeft,
Perplex the fawning niece and pamper'd gueft,
While growing hopes scarce awe the gath'ring fneer,
And scarce a legacy can bribe to hear;
The watchful guests ftill hint the last offence,
The daughter's petulance, the fon's expence,
Improve his heady rage with treach'rous skill,
And mould his paffions till they make his will.
Unnumber'd maladies his joints invade,
Lay fiege to life and prefs the dire blockade;
But unextinguish'd Av'rice ftill remains,
And dreaded loffes aggravate his pains;
He turns, with anxious heart and cripled hands,
His bonds of debt, and mortgages of lands;
Or views his coffers with fufpicious eyes,
Unlocks his gold, and counts it till he dies.
But grant, the virtues of a temp'rate prime
Bless with an age exempt from scorn or crime
An age that melts in unperceiv'd decay,
And glides in modest Innocence away;
Whose peaceful day Benevolence endears,
Whose night congratulating Confcience cheers;
The gen'ral fav'rite as the gen'ral friend:
Such age there is, and who could wish its end?
Yet ev'n on this her load Misfortune flings,
To prefs the weary minutes flagging wings :
New forrow rifes as the day returns,
A fifter fickens, or a daughter mourns.
Now kindred Merit fills the fable bier,
Now lacerated Friendship claims a tear.
Year chases year, decay pursues decay,
Still drops fome joy from with'ring life away;
New forms arife, and diff'rent views engage,
Superfluous lags the vet'ran on the stage,
Till pitying Nature figns the laft release,
And bids afflicted worth retire to peace.
But few there are whom hours like these await,
Who fet unclouded in the gulphs of fate.
From Lydia's monarch should the search defcend,
By Solon caution'd to regard his end,
In life's laft fcene what prodigies surprise,
Fears of the brave, and follies of the wife?
From Marlb'rough's eyes the ftreams of dotage flow,
And Swift expires a driv'ler and a show.
The teeming mother, anxious for her race,
Begs for each birth the fortune of a face:
Yet Vane could tell what ills from beauty spring;
And Sedley curs'd the form that pleas'd a king.
Ye nymphs of rofy lips and radiant eyes,
Whom Pleasure keeps too busy to be wise,
Whom Joys with soft varieties invite,
By day the frolick, and the dance by night,
Who frown with vanity, who fmile with art,
And ask the latest fashion of the heart,
What care, what rules your heedlefs charms fhall fave,
Each nymph your rival, and each youth your flave?
Against your fame with fondness hate combines,
The rival batters, and the lover mines.
With diftant voice neglected Virtue calls,
Lefs heard and less, the faint remonftrance falls;
Tir'd with contempt, fhe quits the flipp'ry reign,
And Pride and Prudence take her feat in vain.
In croud at once, where none the pass defend,
The harmless Freedom, and the private Friend.
The guardians yield, by force fuperior ply'd;
By Int'reft, Prudence; and by Flatt'ry, Pride.
Now Beauty falls betray'd, defpis'd, diftrefs'd,
And hiffing Infamy proclaims the rest.
Where then shall Hope and Fear their objects find? Muft dull Sufpence corrupt the stagnant mind?
Muft helpless man, in ignorance fedate,
Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate?
Muft no diflike alarm, no wishes rise,
No cries attempt the mercies of the skies?
Enquirer, cease, petitions yet remain,
Which heav'n may hear, nor deem religion vain.
Still raife for good the fupplicating voice,
But leave to heav'n the measure and the choice.
Safe in his pow'r, whofe eyes difcern afar
The fecret ambush of a specious pray'r.
Implore his aid, in his decifions rest,
Secure whate'er he gives, he gives the best.
Yet when the fenfe of facred prefence fires,
And strong devotion to the skies afpires,
Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind,
Obedient paffions, and a will refign'd;
For love, which scarce collective man can fill ;
For patience fov'reign o'er transmuted ill;
For faith, that panting for a happier seat,
Counts death kind Nature's fignal of retreat:
These goods for man the laws of heav'n ordain,
Thefe goods he grants, who grants the pow'r to gain;
With these celestial wisdom calms the mind,
And makes the happiness she does not find.
THE TEARS OF OLD MAY-DAY.
ED by the jocund train of vernal hours
And vernal airs, uprofe the gentle May;
Blushing she rofe, and blufhing rofe the flow'rs
That sprung fpontaneous in her genial ray.
Her locks with heav'n's ambrofial dews were bright,
And am'rous zephyrs flutter'd on her breast:
With ev'ry fhifting gleam of morning light
The colours fhifted of her rainbow veft.
Imperial enfigns grac'd her smiling form,
A golden key, and golden wand she bore;
This charms to peace each fullen eastern storm,
And that unlocks the Summer's copious ftore.
Onward in confcious majesty she came,
The grateful honours of mankind to taste;
To gather faireft wreaths of future fame,
And blend fresh triumphs with her glories paft.
Vain hope! no more in choral bands unite
Her virgin vot'ries, and at early dawn,
Sacred to May and Love's myfterious rite,
Brush the light dew-drops from the spangled lawn.
To her no more Augufta's § wealthy pride
Pours the full tribute from Potofi's mine;
Nor fresh-blown garlands village maids provide,
A purer off'ring, at her ruftic shrine.
No more the Maypole's verdant height around
To Valour's games th' ambitious youth advance;
No merry bells and tabors' sprightlier found
Wake the loud carol, and the sportive dance.
Alluding to the country cuftom of gathering May-dew
The plate garland's of London.
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