There let an altar wrought with art
Engage thy tuneful patron's heart.
How charming there to mufe and warble
Beneath his buft of breathing marble!
With laurel wreath, and mimic lyre,
That crown a poet's vast desire.
Then, near it, scoop the vaulted cell
Where mufic's charming maids may dwell;
Prone to indulge thy tender paffion,
And make thee many an affignation.
Deep in the grove's obfcure retreat
Be plac'd MINERVA's facred feat;
There let her aweful turrets rise,
(For wisdom flies from vulgar eyes :)
There her calm dictates fhalt thou hear
Distinctly strike thy lift'ning ear:
And who wou'd fhun the pleafing labour,
To have MINERVA for his neighbour?"
In fhort, fo charm'd each wild fuggestion,
Its truth was little call'd in queftion:
And DAMON dreamt he faw the fawns,
And nymphs, diftinctly, fkim the lawns;
Now trac'd amid the trees, and then
Loft in the circling fhades again.
With leer oblique their lover viewing-
And CUPID-panting-and purfuing-
Fancy, enchanting fair, he cry'd,
Be thou my goddefs! thou my guide!
For thy bright vifions I defpife
What foes may think, or friends advise.
The feign'd concern, when folks furvey
Expence, time, ftudy caft away;
The real fpleen, with which they fee:
I pleafe myself, and follow thee.
Thus glow'd his breaft by fancy warm'd;
And thus the fairy landskip charm'd.
But most he hop'd his conftant care
Might win the favour of the fair;
And, wand'ring late thro' yonder glade,
He thus the foft defign betray'd.
"Ye doves! for whom I rear'd the
With melting lays falute my love!
My DELIA with your notes detain,
Or I have rear'd the grove in vain!
Ye flow'rs! which early fpring fupplies,
Display at once your brightest dyes!
That fhe your op'ning charms may fee,
Or what were elfe your charms to me?
Kind zephyr brush each fragrant flow'r,
And fhed its odours round my bow'r,
Or ne'er again, O gentle wind
Shall I, in thee, refreshment find
Ye ftreams, if e'er your banks I lov'd,
If e'er your native founds improv❜d,
May each foft murmur focthe my fair;
Or oh 'twill deepen my defpair!
Be fure, ye willows! you be feen
Array'd in livelieft robes of green;
Or I will tear your flighted boughs,
And let them fade around my brows.
And thou, my grott! whofe lonely bounds
The melancholy pine furrounds!
May she admire thy peaceful gloom,
Or thou shalt prove her lover's tomb."
And now the lofty domes were rear'd;
Loud laugh'd the fquires, the rabble star'd.
"See, neighbours, what our DAMON's doing!
I think fome folks are fond of ruin!
I saw his sheep at random stray-
But he has thrown his crook away-
And builds fuch huts as, in foul weather,
Are fit for sheep nor fhepherd neither."
Whence came the fober swain misled?
Why, PHOEBUs put it in his head.
PHOEBUS befriends him, we are told;
And PHOEBUS Coins bright tuns of gold,
'Twere prudent not to be fo vain on't:
I think he'll never touch a grain on't.
And if, from PHOEBUS, and his muse,
Mere earthly laziness enfues;
'Tis plain, for aught that I can fay,
The dev❜l inspires, as well as they.
So they-while fools of groffer kind,
Lefs weeting what our bard defign'd,
Impute his fchemes to real evil;
That in these haunts he met the devil.
He own'd, tho' their advice was vain,
It fuited wights who trod the plain:
For dullness-tho' he might abhor it-
In them, he made allowance for it.
Nor wonder'd, if beholding mottos,
And urns, and domes, and cells, and grottos,
Folks, little dreaming of the mufes,
Were plagu'd to guess their proper uses.
But did the mufes haunt his cell?
Or in his dome did VENUS dwell?
Did PALLAS in his counfels fhare?
The Delian god reward his pray'r?
Or did his zeal engage the fair?
When all the structures fhone compleat,
Not much convenient, wond'rous neat;
Adorn'd with gilding, painting, planting,
And the fair guests alone were wanting;
Ah me! ('twas DAMON'S Own Confeffion)
Came poverty, and took possession.
HY droops my DAMON, whilst he roves
Thro' ornamented meads and groves?
Near columns, obelisks, and spires,
Which ev'ry critic eye admires?
'Tis poverty, detefted maid,
Solę tenant of their ample shade!
'Tis fhe, that robs him of his ease;
And bids their very charms displease.
But now, by fancy long controul'd,
And with the fons of taste enroll'd,
He deem'd it fhameful, to commence
First minister to common-fense:
Far more elated, to pursue
The lowest task of dear vertû.
And now behold his lofty foul,
That whilom flew from pole to pole,
Settle on fome elaborate flow'r;
And, like a bee, the fweets devour!
Now, of a rofe enamour'd, prove
"The wild folicitudes of love!
Now, in a lily's cup enshrin'd,
Forego the commerce of mankind!
As in these toils he wore away
The calm remainder of his day;
Conducting fun, and fhade, and fhow'r,
As moft might glad the new-born flow'r,
So fate ordain'd-before his eye-
Starts up the long-fought butterfly!
While flutt'ring round, her plumes unfold
Celestial crimson, dropt with gold.
Adieu, ye bands of flow'rets fair!
The living beauty claims his care:
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