II. But now, alone, by storms oppreft, No jocund pipe to ftill the found; In vain I call th' harmonious nine, While spleen and care my rest invade, Wifely at least he'll ftop my pen, And with his poppies crown my brow : To fleep unheard of- than to glow Written at a Ferme Ornee near Birmingham; Auguft 7th, 1749. 'T By the fame. IS Nature here bids pleasing scenes arise, And wifely gives them Cynthio, to revife: To To veil each blemish; brighten every grace; How well the bard obeys, each valley tells ; Thefe lucid ftreams, gay meads, and lonely cells; While Nature fhines, fo gracefully reveal'd, The GOLDFINCHES. T By Mr. JAGO. An Elegy. Ingenuas didiciffe fideliter arets Emollit mores, nec finit effe feros. O you, whofe groves protect the feather'd quires To you, whom pity moves, and taste inspires, "Twas gentle spring, when all the tuneful race, By nature taught, in nuptial leagues combine: A goldfinch joy'd to meet the warm embrace, And hearts and fortunes with her mate to join. III. Thro Thro' Nature's spacious walks at large they rang'd, Till on a day to weighty cares refign'd, With mutual choice, alternate, they agreed, All in a garden, on a currant-bush, With wond'rous art they built their waving feat: Here bleft with ease, and in each other bleft, With early fongs they wak'd the sprightly groves, Till time matur'd their bliss, or crown'd their neft With infant-pledges of their faithful loves. And now what transport glow'd in either's eye! But ah! what earthly happiness can last ? The The most ungentle of his tribe was he; No gen'rous precept ever touch'd his heart : With concords falfe, and hideous profody He fcrawl'd his task, and blunder'd o'er his part. On barb'rous plunder bent, with favage eye He mark'd where wrapt in down the younglins lay, Then rushing feiz'd the wretched family, And bore them in his impious hands away. But how fhall I relate in numbers rude The pangs for poor Chryfomitris decreed! When from a neigh'bring spray aghast she view'd The cruel spoiler perpetrate the deed! So wrapt in grief fome heart-ftruck matron stands, While horrid flames furround her children's room! On heav'n fhe calls, and wrings her trembling hands, Conftrain'd to fee, but not prevent their doom. 66 O grief of griefs! with fhrieking voice she cry'd, "What fight is this that I have liv'd fo fee? "O! that I had a maiden-goldfinch died, "From love's false joys, and bitter forrows free? "Was it for this, alas! with weary bill, "Was it for this, I pois'd th' unwieldy ftraw? "For this I pick'd the mofs from yonder hill? "Nor fhun'd the pond'rous chat along to draw? Chryfomitris, it seems, is the name for a goldfinch. Was it for this, I cull'd the wool with care ? Was it for this, my freedom I refign'd; "And ceas'd to rove from beauteous plain to plain ? "For this I fate at home whole days confin'd, "And bore the fcorching heat, and pealing rain? "Was it for this, my watchful eyes grow dim? "O plund'rer vile! O more than weezel fell! "More treach'rous than the cat with prudish face! "More fierce than kites with whom the furies dwell! "More pilf'ring than the cuckow's prowling race! "For thee may plumb or goofb'ry never grow, Thus fang the mournful bird her piteous tale; The piteous tale her mournful mate return'd: X The |