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Can virtue, careless of her pupil's meed,

Forget how *** sustains the shepherd's cause? Content in shades to tune a lonely reed,

Nor join the founding pæan of applause ?

For public haunts, impell’d by Britain's weal,

See GRENVILLE quit the mufe's fav’rite ease; And shall not swains admire his noble zeal ?

Admiring praise, admiring strive to please?

Life, fays the fage, affords no bliss sincere ;

And courts, and cells in vain our hopes renew : But ah! where GRENVILLE charms the list ning ear,

'Tis hard to think the chearless maxim true..

The groves may smile ; the rivers gently glide ;

Soft thro’ the vale refound the lonesome lay; Ev’n thickets yield delight, if taste preside,

But can they please. when Lyttelton's away?

Pure as the swain's the breast of * * * glows,

Ah! were the fhepherd's phrase, like his, refin'd! But, how improv'd the generous dictate Aows

Thro’ the clear medium of a polish'd mind!

Happy the youths who warm with Britain's love,

Her inmoft wifh in *** periods hear! Happy that in the radiant circle inove, Attendant orbs, where LONSDALE gilds the sphere !

While

While rural faith, and every polish'd art,

Each friendly charm, in *** conspire, From public scenes all pensive must you part ;

All joyless to the greenest fields retire !

Go, plaintive youth! no more by fount or stream,

Like some lone halcyon, social pleasure shun; Go dare the light, enjoy its chearful beam,

And hail the bright procession of the sun.

Then cover'd by thy ripen'd shades, resume

The silent walk ; no more by passion tost : Then seek thy rustic haunts; the dreary gloom,

Where ev'ry art that colours life, is lost.”—

In vain ! the list'ning muse attends in vain !

Restraints in hostile bands her motions wait -Yet will I grieve, and fadden all my strain,

When injur'd beauty mourns the muse's fate.

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ELEGY

E L EGY XXV.

To Delia, with some flowers ; complaining how much . bis benevolence suffers on account of his humble

fortune.

W H ate'er could sculpture's curious art employ,

Whate'er the lavish hand of wealth can show'r, These would I give--and every gift énjoj

That pleas'd my fair-but fate denies the pow'r.

Blest were my lot, to feed the focial fires !

To learn the latent wishes of a friend ! To give the boon his native taste admires,

And, for my transport, on his smile depend !

Blest too is he, whose ev’ning ramble strays

Where droop the fons of indigence and care ! His little gifts their gladden'd eyes amaze,

And win, at small expence, their fondest pray'r!

And oh the joy! to shun the conscious light,

To spare the modest blush ; to give unseen! Like show'rs that fall behind the veil of night, Yet deeply tinge the smiling vales with green.

But

But happiest they, who drooping realms relieve !

Whose virtues in our cultur'd vales appear! For whose fad fate a thousand shepherds grieve,

And fading fields allow the grief fincere.

To call loft worth from its oppressive fhade ;

To fix its equal sphere, and see it shine ; To hear it grateful own the generous aid ;

This, this is tranfport-but must ne'er be mine.

Faint is my bounded bliss ; nor I refuse

To range where daizies open, rivers roll; While prose or fong the languid hours amuse,

And soothe the fond impatience of my soul.

Awhile I'll weave the roofs of jasmin bow'rs,

And urge with trivial cares the loitring year ; Awhile I'll prune my grove, protect my flow'rs,

Then, unlamented, press an early bier !

Of those lov'd flow'rs the lifeless corse may share ;

Some hireling hand a fading wreath bestow; The rest will breathe as sweet, will glow as fair,

As when their master smild to see them glow.

The fequent morn fhall wake the silvan quire ;

The kid again shall wanton ere 'tis noon; Nature will smile, will wear her best attire ; O! let not gentle Delia smile fo soon!

While

3.

While the rude hearse conveys me now away,

And careless eyes my vulgar fate proclaim, Let thy kind tear my utmost worth o'erpay ;

And, foftly sighing, vindicate my fame.

O Delia! cheard by thy superior praise,

I bless the silent path the fates decree; Pleas'd, from the list of my inglorious days,

To raze the moments crown'd with bliss, and thee.

ELE Ġ Y

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