One favour'd fon engag'd his tenderest care;
One pious youth his whole affection crown'd:
In his
young breast the virtues fprung fo fair,

Such charms difplay'd, fuch sweets diffus'd around.

But whilft gay transport in his face appears,

A noxious vapour clogs the poifon'd sky; Blafts the fair crop-the fire is drown'd in tears, And, fçarce furviving, fees his CYNTHIO die!

O'er the pale corse we faw him gently bend;
Heart-chill'd with grief-my thread, he cry'd, is spun!
"If heav'n had meant I fhou'd my life extend,
Heav'n had preferv'd my life's fupport, my fon.

Snatch'd in thy prime! alas the stroke were mild,
Had my frail form obey'd the fates' decree ꞌ
Bleft were my lot, O CYNTHIO! O my child!
Had heav'n fo pleas'd, and I had dy'd for thee."

Five fleepless nights he stem'd this tide of woes;
Five irksome funs he faw, thro' tears, forlorn!
On his pale corse the sixth fad morning rofe;

From yonder dome the mournful bier was borne.

'Twas on thofe * downs, by Roman hosts annoy'd, Fought our bold fathers; ruftic, unrefin'd! Freedom's plain fons, in martial cares employ'd! They ting'd their bodies, but unmafk'd their mind.

* HARBOROUGH Downs.

"Twas

'Twas there, in happier times, this virtuous race, Of milder merit, fix'd their calm retreat;

War's deadly crimson had forfook the place,

And freedom fondly lov'd the chosen seat.

No wild ambition fir'd their tranquil breaft,

To fwell with empty founds a spotless name; If foft'ring fkies, the fun, the fhow'r were bleft, Their bounty spread; their field's extent the fame.

Those fields, profuse of raiment, food, and fire,
They scorn'd to leffen, careless to extend;
Bade luxury, to lavish courts afpire,
And avarice, to city-breasts descend.

None, to a virgin's mind, prefer'd her dow'r;
To fire with vicious hopes a modest heir :
The fire, in place of titles, wealth, or pow'r,
Affign'd him virtue; and his lot was fair.

They spoke of fortune, as fome doubtful dame,

1

That sway'd the natives of a distant sphere; From lucre's vagrant fons had learnt her fame, But never wish'd to place her banners here.

Here youth's free fpirit, innocently gay,

Enjoy'd the most that innocence can give;

Those wholesome sweets, that border virtue's way; Those cooling fruits, that we may taste and live.

Their board no strange ambiguous viand bore;
From their own ftreams their choicer fare they drew,
To lure the fcaly glutton to the fhore,

The fole deceit their artless bofom knew!

Sincere themselves, ah too fecure to find
The common bofom, like their own, fincere!
'Tis its own guilt alarms the jealous mind;
'Tis her own poifon bids the viper fear.

Sketch'd on the lattice of th' adjacent fane, Their fuppliant bufts implore the reader's pray'r; 'Ah gentle fouls! enjoy your blissful reign,

And let frail mortals claim your guardian care.

For fure, to blissful realms the fouls are flown,
That never flatter'd, injur'd, cenfur'd, ftrove;
The friends of fcience! mufic, all their own;
Mufic, the voice of virtue and of love!

The journeying peasant, thro' the fecret fhade, Heard their foft lyres engage his lift'ning ear; And haply deem'd fome courteous angel play'd; No angel play'd-but might with transport hear.

For these the founds that chafe unholy strife!
Solve envy's charm, ambition's wretch release!
Raise him to fpurn the radiant ills of life;
To pity pomp, to be content with peace.

Farewel,

The praise you fought from lips angelic flows; Farewel! the virtues which deserve to live,

Deserve an ampler blifs than life bestows.

Laft of his race, PALEMON, now no more
The modeft merit of his line display'd;
Then pious HoUGH VIGORNIA's mitre wore-
Soft fleep the duft of each deferving fhade.

E LEG Y XVI.

He fuggefts the advantages of birth to a person of merit, and the folly of a fupercilioufness that is built upon that fole foundation.

WHEN genius grac'd with lineal splendor glows,

When title fhines, with ambient virtues crown'd, Like fome fair almond's flow'ry pomp it shews; The pride, the perfume of the regions round.

Then learn, ye fair! to foften fplendor's ray;
Endure the fwain, the youth of low degree;
Let meekness join'd its temperate beam display;
'Tis the mild verdure that endears the tree.

Pity the fandal'd fwain, the fhepherd's boy;
He fighs to brighten a neglected name;
Foe to the dull appulfe of vulgar joy,

He mourns his lot; he wishes, merits fame.

In vain to groves and pathlefs vales we fly;
Ambition there the bow'ry haunt invades ;
Fame's aweful rays fatigue the courtier's eye,
But gleam still lovely thro' the checquer'd fhades.

Vainly, to guard from love's unequal chain,
Has fortune rear'd us in the rural grove;
Shou'd ****'s eyes illume the defart plain,
Ev'n I may wonder, and ev'n I must love.

Nor