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Go then to her, whose soft request
Bade my blest hands thy form prepare ; Ah go, and sweetly footh her tender breast With many a warble wild, and artless air.
For know, full oft, while o'er the mead
Bright June extends her fragrant reign,
Then shall the Sylphs, and Sylphids bright,
Mild Genii all, to whose high care
Some, Autt'ring 'mid thy trembling strings,
Shall catch the rich melodious spoil,
While others check each ruder gale,
Expel rough Boreas from the sky, Nor let a breeze its heaving breath exhale, Save such as softly pant, and panting die.
Then, as thy swelling accents rise,
Fair Fancy waking at the sound,
To myrtle groves, Elysian greens,
'Mid which fome fav’rite youth shall rove, Shall meet, Ihall lead her through the glitt'ring scenes, And all be music, extacy, and love.
Non eft vivere, sed valere, vita. MARTIAL. By Mr. DUNCOMBE, Fellow of Corpus Christi College,
EALTH! to thee thy votry owes
All the blessings life bestows,
Of studious days and peaceful nights :
Does the fire with smiles survey
Does love with mutual blushes streak
The swain's and virgin's artless cheek?
And, at Noon-tide's sultry hour,
To yonder dew-enamelld mead;
Who for sev'n whole years haft shed
Those fragrant lips of rosy hue,
In yon gloomy grotto laid,
PALEMON asks thy kindly aid ;
O hover round the virtuous fage :
Venus from Æneas' fide
With successful efforts try'd
To extract th' envenom'd dart,
Propitious to the queen of love,
Ranks on ranks tumultuous rose
A laurel wreath for thousands Nain;
A VERN AL ODE.
Sent to his Grace the Lord Archbishop of CANTERBURY,
March 12, 1754.
Revives the buried seed,
Wich verdure every mead,
Diffusing mildness through the sky;
Hurl'd all his terrors round,
And whiten'd all the ground:
The frozen scenes will melt away;