Yes the fair profpect of furviving praise Shall then our youths, who fame's bright fabric raise, Is it small transport, as with curious eye You trace the story of each Attic fage, To mark the day, when, thro' the bulky tome, Led by that index where true genius fhines? Ah let not BRITONS doubt their focial aim, ? VOL. I. C ELEGY EL EGY III. On the untimely death of a certain learned acquaintance. F proud PYGMALION quit his cumbrous frame, Funereal pomp the fcanty tear fupplies; Whilft heralds loud with venal voice proclaim, Lo! here the brave and the puiffant lies. When humbler ALCON leaves his drooping friends, He little knew the fly penurious art; That odious art which, fortune's fav'rites know; Form'd to beftow, he felt the warmest heart, But envious fate forbade him to beftow. He little knew to ward the fecret wound; To fing her glories, and to paint her fair! Ill was he skill'd to guide his wand'ring fheep; Ye Ye fons of wealth! protect the muse's train; He lov'd a nymph: amidst his flender store, His nymph was fair; the sweetest bud that blows, Sweet bird! enamour'd of the sweetest flow'r! He lov'd the mufe; fhe taught him to complain; He lov'd the muse, altho' fhe taught in vain; She guides the foot that treads on Parian floors; He wifh'd for wealth, for much he wifh'd to give ; The penfive profpect fadden'd all his ftrain. I faw him faint! I faw him fink to reft! Like one ordain'd to fwell the vulgar throng; As tho' the virtues had not warm'd his breast, As tho' the mufes not infpir'd his tongue. I faw his bier ignobly crofs the plain; Saw peasant hands the pious rite fupply: The generous ruftics mourn'd the friendly fwain, But pow'r and wealth's unvarying cheek was dry! Such ALCON fell; in meagre want forlorn! Where were ye then ye powerful patrons, where? Wou'd ye the purple fhou'd your limbs adorn, Go wash the confcious blemish with a tear. ELEGY T ELE GY IV. OPHELIA's urn. To Mr. G. HRO' the dim veil of ev'ning's dusky fhade, Near fome lone fane, or yew's funereal green, What dreary forms has magic fear furvey'd! What shrouded spectres fuperftition feen! But you fecure fhall pour your fad complaint, Nor dread the meagre phantom's wan array; What none but fear's officious hand can paint, What none, but fuperftition's eye, furvey. The glim'ring twilight and the doubtful dawn Shall fee your step to these fad fcenes return: Constant, as crystal dews impearl the lawn, Shall STREPHON's tear bedew OPHELIA's urn! Sure nought unhallow'd fhall prefume to ftray Where fleep the reliques of that virtuous maid: Nor aught unlovely bend its devious way, Where foft OPHELIA's dear remains are laid. Haply thy mufe, as with unceasing fighs |