If PAAN's fons these horrid rites require,
If health's fair science be by these refin'd,
Let guilty convicts, for their use, expire;
And let their breathless corfe avail mankind.

Yet hard it feems, when guilt's last fine is paid,
To fee the victim's corfe deny'd repofe !
Now, more fevere ! the poor offenceless maid
Dreads the dire outrage of inhuman foes.

Where is the faith of ancient pagans fied?
Where the fond care the wand'ring manes claim?
Nature, inftinctive, cries, Protect the dead,
And facred be their afhes, and their fame!

Arife, dear youth! ev'n now the danger calls;
Ev'n now the villain fnuffs his wonted prey;

See! fee! I lead thee to yon' facred walls

Oh! fly to chase these human wolves away."

屮

The body of St. Kenelm was found in a menden rear the top of Chest Hill, which is in fullView of Mr Shenstone's House. Upon that Spot a Church was erected, and is stillin Standing, dedicated to St. Kenclm. - Ser Pist's Shefford th. &c.

ELEGY

BORN

I take my plaintive reed, and range the grove, And raise my lay, and bid the rocks refound The favage force of empire, and of love,

Fast by the center of yon' various wild,

Where spreading oaks embow'r a Gothic fane; KENDRIDA's arts a brother's youth beguil'd; There nature urg'd her tendereft pleas in vain.

Soft o'er his birth, and o'er his infant hours,
Th' ambitious maid cou'd every care employ ;,
Then with affiduous fondness cropt the flow'rs,
To deck the cradle of the princely boy?

But foon the bofom's pleafing calm is flown;
Love fires her breaft; the fultry paffions rise;
A favour'd lover feeks the Mercian throne,
And views her KENELM with a rival's eyes.

KENELM in the Saxon heptarchy was heir to the kingdom of MERCIA; but being very young at his father's death, was, by the artifices of his fifter and her lover, depriv'd of his crown and life together.

How kind were fortune, ah! how just were fate,
Wou'd fate or fortune MERCIA's heir remove!
How fweet to revel on the couch of ftate!
To crown at once her lover, and her love!

See, garnish'd for the chace, the fraudful maid
To thefe lone hills direct his devious way;.
The youth, all prone, the fifter guide obey'd,
Ill-fated youth! himself the deftin'd prey.

But now, nor fhaggy hill, nor pathless plain,

A

Forms the lone refuge of the filvan game; Since LYTTELTON has crown'd the fweet domain With fofter pleasures, and with fairer fame.

Where the rough bowman urg'd his headlong steed, Immortal bards, a polifh'd race, retire;

'And where hoarfe fcream'd the ftrepent horn, fucceed The melting graces of no vulgar lyre.

See THOMSON, loit'ring near fome limpid well,
For BRITAIN's friend the verdant wreath prepare!

Or, ftudious of revolving feasons, tell,

See

How peerless LUCIA made all seasons fair!

* from civic garlands fly,

And in these groves indulge his tuneful vein ! Or from yon' fummit, with a guardian's eye, Obferve how freedom's hand attires the plain!

Here

#Lytteltons. Hagley Park liss on their

the other side of Clent Hill: not for from His Spot where St. Kerelm was murderid.

Here Port!-ah never muft that tow'ring mind
To his lov'd haunts, or dearer friend, return!
What art! what friendships! oh! what fame refign'd!
-In yonder glade I trace his mournful urn.

Where is the breast can rage or hate retain,

And these glad ftreams and fmiling lawns behold? Where is the breaft can hear the woodland ftrain, And think fair freedom well exchang'd for gold

Thro' thefe foft fhades delighted let me stray,
While o'er my head forgotten funs defcend!
Thro' these dear valleys bend my cafual way,
'Till fetting life a total shade extend!

Here far from courts, and void of pompous cares,
I'll mufe how much I owe mine humbler fate:
Or fhrink to find, how much ambition dares,
To fhine in anguish, and to grieve in state!

Canft thou, O fun! that spotless throne disclose, Where her bold arm has left no fanguine ftain? Where, fhew me where, the lineal scepter glows, Pure, as the fimple crook that rules the plain?

Tremendous pomp! where hate, distrust, and fear,
In kindred bofoms folve the focial tie;

There not the parent's fmile is half fincere ;
Nor void of art the confort's melting eye,

There with the friendly wish, the kindly flame,
No face is brighten'd, and no bofoms beat;
Youth, manhood, age, avow one fordid aim,
And ev❜n the beardless lip effays deceit.

There coward rumours walk their murd'rous round; The glance, that more than rural blame inftills; Whispers, that ting'd with friendship doubly wound, Pity that injures, and concern that kills.

There anger whets, but love can ne'er engage;
Careffing brothers part but to revile;

There all men fmile, and prudence warns the wise,
To dread the fatal ftroke of all that smile.

There all are rivals! fifter, fon, and fire,
With horrid purpose hug destructive arms;
There foft-ey'd maids in murd'rous plots confpire,
And scorn the gentler mischief of their charms.

Let fervile minds one endless watch endure;
Day, night, nor hour, their anxious guard refign;
But lay me, fate! on flow'ry banks, secure

Tho' my whole foul be, like my limbs, fupine.

Yes, may my tongue difdain a vaffal's care;
My lyre refound no prostituted lay;
More warm to merit, more elate to wear
The cap of freedom, than the crown of bays.

Sooth'd