Couldst thou reprove me, when I nurs'd the flame
On lift'ning CHERWELL'S ofier banks reclin'd?
While foe to fortune, unfeduc'd by fame,

I footh'd the biafs of a careless mind.

Youth's gentle kindred, health and love were met;
What tho' in ALMA's guardian arms I play'd?
How shall the muse those vacant hours forget?
Or deem that blifs by folid cares repaid?

Thou know'ft how transport thrills the tender breast,
Where love and fancy fix their op'ning reign;

How nature shines in livelier colours drest,
To bless their union, and to grace their train.

So first when PHOEBUS met the Cyprian queen,
And favour'd RHODES beheld their paffion crown'd,
Unusual flow'rs enrich'd the painted green;

And fwift fpontaneous roses blush'd around.

Now fadly lorn, from TWITNAM's widow'd bow'r,
The drooping mufes take their cafual way;
And where they ftop, a flood of tears they pour;
And where they weep, no more the fields are gay]

Where is the dappled pink, the sprightly rofe?
The cowflip's golden cup no more I fee:
Dark and difcolour'd ev'ry flow'r that blows,
To form the garland, Elegy for thee !—

Enough

Enough of tears has wept the virtuous dead;
Ah might we now the pious rage controul!
Hush'd be my grief ere ev'ry smile be fled,

Ere the deep fwelling figh fubvert the foul!

If near fome trophy fpring a stripling bay,
Pleas'd we behold the graceful umbrage rife;
But foon too deep it works its baneful way,

And, low on earth, the proftrate * ruin lies.

* Alludes to what is reported of the bay-tree, that if it is planted too near the walls of an edifice, its roots will work their way underneath, till they deftroy the foundation.

VOL. I.

D

ELEGY

IN

ELEGY IX.

He defcribes his difinterestedness to a friend.

NE'ER must tinge my lip with Celtic wines; The pomp of INDIA must I ne'er difplay; Nor boast the produce of Peruvian mines, Nor, with Italian founds, deceive the day.

Down yonder brook my crystal bev'rage flows;
My grateful fheep their annual fleeces bring;
Fair in my garden buds the damask rose,

And, from my grove, I hear the throftle fing.

My fellow fwains! avert your dazled eyes;

In vain allur'd by glitt'ring fpoils they rove; The fates ne'er meant them for the fhepherd's prize, Yet gave them ample recompence, in love.

They gave you vigour from your parent's veins; They gave you toils; but toils your finews brace; They gave you nymphs, that own their amorous pains, And fhades, the refuge of the gentle race.

To carve your loves, to paint your mutual flames,
See! polifh'd fair, the beech's friendly rind!

To fing foft carrols to your lovely dames,
See vocal grotts, and echoing vales affign'd!

Wou'dft

Wou'dft thou, my STREPHON, love's delighted slave! Tho' fure the wreaths of chivalry to fhare, Forego the ribbon thy MATILDA gave ? And giving, bade thee in remembrance wear.

Ill fare my peace, but ev'ry idle toy,

If to my mind my DELIA's form it brings, Has truer worth, imparts fincerer joy,

Than all that bears the radiant ftamp of kings.

O my foul weeps, my breast with anguish bleeds,
When love deplores the tyrant pow'r of gain!
Difdaining riches as the futile weeds,

I rife fuperior, and the rich disdain.

Oft from the stream, flow-wandering down the glade, Penfive I hear the nuptial peal rebound; "Some mifer weds, I cry, the captive maid,

And fome fond lover fickens at the found."

Not SOMERVILLE, the mufe's friend of old,
Tho' now exalted to yon ambient sky,
So fhun'd a foul diftain'd with earth and gold,
So lov'd the pure, the generous breaft, as I.

Scorn'd be the wretch that quits his genial bowl,
His loves, his friendships, ev'n his felf, refigns;
Perverts the facred inftinct of his foul,

And to a ducate's dirty fphere confines.

But come, my friend, with tafte, with fcience bleft,
Ere age impair me, and ere gold allure;
Restore thy dear idea to my breast,

The rich depofit fhall the fhrine fecure.

Let others toil to gain the fordid ore,

The charms of independence let us fing;

Bleft with thy friendship, can I wish for more?
I'll spurn the boasted wealth of * LYDIA's king.

* Cræfus.

ELEGY