EL EGY II.

On pofthumous reputation. To a friend.

GRIEF of griefs! that envy's frantic ire

Should rob the living virtue of its praife! O foolish mufes! that with zeal aspire

To deck the cold infenfate shrine with bays!

When the free spirit quits her humble frame,

To tread the skies with radiant garlands crown'd, Say, will fhe hear the distant voice of fame ? Or hearing, fancy sweetness in the found?

Perhaps ev'n genius pours a flighted lay;

Perhaps ev'n friendship sheds a fruitless tear;
Ev'n LYTTELTON but vainly trims the bay,
And fondly graces HAMMOND's mournful bier.

Tho' weeping virgins haunt his favour'd urn,
Renew their chaplets, and repeat their fighs;
Tho', near his tomb, Sabæan odours burn,

The loit'ring fragrance will it reach the skies?

No, fhou'd his DELIA Votive wreaths prepare,
DELIA might place the votive wreaths in vain :

Yet the dear hope of DELIA's future care

Once crown'd his pleasures, and difpell'd his pain.

Yes

Yes-the fair prospect of surviving praise
Can ev'ry fense of present joys excel :
For this, great HADRIAN chose 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 fpread the facred base,
To plan a work, thro' lateft 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 fhines?

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!

?

VOL. I.

C

ELEGY

EL EGY III.

On the untimely death of a certain learned acquaintance.

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 diftinguifh ALCON's bier;
The faithful mufe 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 beftow, 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 fheep.;
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 fons of wealth! protect the mufe's train;
From winds protect them, and with food supply;
Ah! helpless they, to ward the threaten'd pain!
The meagre famine, and the wint'ry sky!

He lov❜d a nymph: amidst his slender store,
He dar'd to love; and CYNTHIA was his theme;
He breath'd his plaints along the rocky fhore,
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 rofe;

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

Fie lov'd the mufe; fhe taught him to complain;
He saw his tim'rous loves on her depend;

He lov'd the mufe, altho' fhe taught in vain;
He lov'd the muse, for fhe 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 wifh'd to give;
He griev❜d that virtue might not wealth obtain;
Piteous of woes, and hopelefs to relieve,

The penfive profpect fadden'd all his strain.

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

I faw his bier ignobly crofs the plain;

Saw peafant hands the pious rite fupply: The generous ruftics mourn'd the friendly fwain, 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 fhou'd your limbs adorn,
Go wash the conscious blemish with a tear.

ELEGY