Ye streams! if e'er your banks I lov'd,
If e'er your native founds improv'd,
May each foft murmur foothe my fair:
Or oh! 'twill deepen my despair.

And thou, my grot! whofe lonely bounds
The melancholy pine furrounds,

May Daphne praise thy peaceful gloom;
Or thou shalt prove her Damon's tomb.

III. The ROSE-BUD.

EE, Flavia, fee that budding rose,

SE

How bright beneath the bush it glows;

How fafely there it lurks conceal'd;
How quickly blasted, when reveal'd!

The fun with warm attractive rays
Tempts it to wanton in the blaze:
A blast defcends from eastern skies,
And all its blushing radiance dies.

Then guard, my fair! your charms divine;
And check the fond defire to shine
Where fame's transporting rays allure,

While here more happy, more fecure.

The

The breath of fome neglected maid
Shall make you figh you left the fhade:
A breath to beauty's bloom unkind,
As, to the rose, an eastern wind.

The nymph reply'd, " You firft, my fwain,
"Confine your fonnets to the plain;

"One envious tongue alike disarms,
"You, of your wit, me, of my

charms.

"What is, unheard, the tuneful thrill?
"Or what, unknown, the poet's skill?
"What, unadmir'd, a charming mien,

"Or what the rofe's blufh, unfeen ?"

IV. Written in a Collection of Bacchanalian Songs.

ADIEU, ye jovial youths, who join

To plunge old Care in floods of wine;

And, as your dazzled eye-balls roll,
Difcern him struggling in the bowl.

Not yet is hope fo wholly flown,
Nor yet is thought fo tedious grown,
But limpid ftream and fhady tree
Retain, as yet, fome fweets for me.

And

And fee, through yonder filent grove,
See yonder does my Daphne rove:
With pride her foot-steps I purfue,
And bid your frantic joys adieu.

The fole confufion I admire,
Is that my Daphne's eyes inspire:
I fcorn the madness you approve,
And value reafon next to love.

V. Imitated from the FRENCH.

ES, these are the scenes where with Iris I stray'd;

YES,

But fhort was her fway for fo lovely a maid;
In the bloom of her youth to a cloifter fhe run;
In the bloom of her graces, too fair for a nun!
Ill-grounded, no doubt, a devotion must prove
So fatal to beauty, fo killing to love!

Yes, these are the meadows, the shrubs and the plains;
Once the scene of my pleasures, the scene of my pains;
How many soft moments I spent in this grove!

How fair was my nymph! and how fervent my love!
Be ftill though, my heart! thine emotion give o'er;
Remember, the feafon of love is no more.

I

With

With her how I ftray'd amid fountains and bow'rs,
Or loiter'd behind and collected the flow'rs!
Then breathless with ardor my fair-one purfu'd,
And to think with what kindness my garland she view'd!
But be still, my fond heart! this emotion give o'er ;
Fain wouldst thou forget thou must love her no more.

H

I. On a ROOT-HOUSE.

ERE in cool grot, and moffy cell,

We rural fays and faeries dwell:

Though rarely feen by mortal eye,

When the pale moon, afcending high,

Darts through yon' limes her quivering beams,
We frisk it near these crystal streams.

Her beams, reflected from the wave,
Afford the light our revels crave;
The turf, with daisies broider'd o'er,
Exceeds, we wot, the Parian floor;
Nor yet for artful strains we call,
But liften to the water's fall.

Would

Would

you then taste our tranquil fcene,

Be sure your bofoms be ferene;
Devoid of hate, devoid of ftrife,
Devoid of all that poisons life;

And much it 'vails you, in their place,
To graft the love of human race.

And tread with awe these favour'd bow'rs,
Nor wound the fhrubs nor bruise the flow'rs;
So may your paths with fweets abound!
So may your couch with reft be crown'd!
But harm betide the wayward fwain,

Who dares our hallow'd haunt profane !

OBERON.

II. In a fhady Valley, near a running Water. ! Let me haunt this peaceful fhade;

Nor let ambition e'er invade

The tenants of this leafy bow'r,

That fhun her paths, and flight her pow'r.

Hither the plaintive halcyon flies

From focial meads and open skies;

Pleas'd, by this rill, her courfe to steer,

And hide her faphire plumage here.

The