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Can ev'ry sense of present joys excel :
For this, great HADRIAN chofe laborious days;
Thro' this, expiring, bade a gay farewel.

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 facred bafe,
To plan a work, thro' latest ages fair!

Is it small transport, as with curious eye
You trace the story of each Attic fage,
To think your blooming praise fhall time defy?
Shall waft like odours thro' the pleasing page ?

To mark the day, when, thro' the bulky tome,
Around your name the varying style refines ?
And readers call their loft attention home,

Led by that index where true genius shines ?

Ah let not BRITONS doubt their focial aim,
Whose ardent bofoms catch this ancient fire!
old interest melts before the vivid flame,
And patriot ardours, but with life, expire!

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ELE GY III.

On the untimely death of a certain learned acquaintance.

IF

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,
Pageant nor plume diftinguish ALCON's bier;
The faithful muse with votive fong attends,
And blots the mournful numbers with a tear.

He little knew the fly penurious art;

That odious art which fortune's fav'rites know; Form'd to bestow, he felt the warmest heart, But envious fate forbade him to bestow.

He little knew to ward the fecret wound;
He little knew that mortals cou'd enfnare;
Virtue he knew; the nobleft joy he found,

To fing her glories, and to paint her fair!

Ill was he skill'd to guide his wand'ring sheep;
And unforeseen difafter thin'd his fold;

Yet, at another's lofs, the fwain would weep;

And, for his friend, his very crook were fold.

Ye

From winds protect them, and with food fupply; Ah! helpless they, to ward the threaten'd pain!

The meagre famine, and the wint'ry fky!

He lov❜d a nymph: amidst his flender store,

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He dar'd to love; and CYNTHIA was his theme; He breath'd his plaints along the rocky shore, They only echo'd o'er the winding stream.

His nymph was fair; the sweetest bud that blows, Revives less lovely from the recent show'r;

SO PHILOMEL enamour'd eyes the rose;

Sweet bird! enamour'd of the sweetest flow'r!

He lov'd the mufe; she taught him to complain;
He faw his tim'rous loves on her depend;

He lov'd the mufe, altho' fhe taught in vain ;
He lov'd the mufe, for she was virtue's friend.

She guides the foot that treads on Parian floors;`
She wins the ear when formal pleas are vain;
She tempts patricians from the fatal doors
Of vice's brothel, forth to virtue's fane.

He wish'd for wealth, for much he wish'd to give ;
He griev'd that virtue might not wealth obtain;
Piteous of woes, and hopeless to relieve,

The penfive prospect fadden'd all his strain.

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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 breaft, As tho' the mufes 'not infpir'd his tongue.

I faw his bier ignobly crofs the plain;

Saw peasant hands the pious rite supply : The generous ruftics mourn'd the friendly swain, 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 shou'd your limbs adorn, Go wash the confcious blemish with a tear.

ELEGY

T

E LE GY IV.

OPHELIA'S urn. To Mr. G

HRO' the dim veil of ev'ning's dufky 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 secure shall 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, survey.

The glim'ring twilight and the doubtful dawn

Shall fee your step to these sad scenes return: Conftant, as crystal dews impearl the lawn,

Shall STREPHON's tear bedew OPHELIA's urn!

Sure nought unhallow'd shall presume to stray
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
She keeps late vigils on her urn reclin❜d,
May fee light groups of pleasing visions rise;
And phantoms glide, but of celeftial kind.

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