Hile blooming fpring defcends from genial skies, By whose mild influence inftant wonders rife ; From whose soft breath Elyfian beauties flow; The sweets of HAGLEY, or the pride of STOWE; Will LYTTELTON the rural landskip range, Leave noify fame, and not regret the change? Pleas'd will he tread the garden's early scenes, And learn a moral from the rifing greens? There, warm'd alike by Sol's enliv'ning pow'r, The weed, afpiring, emulates the flow'r: The drooping flow'r, its fairer charms difplay'd, Invites, from grateful hands, their gen'rous aid:
Soon, if none check th' inyafive foe's defigns,
The lively luftre of these scenes delines!
'Tis thus, the fpring of youth, the morn of life,
Rears in our minds the rival feeds of ftrife.
Then paffion riots, reafon then contends;
And, on the conqueft, ev'ry blifs depends:
Life, from the nice decifion, takes its hue:
And bleft thofe judges who decide like you!
On worth like theirs fhall ev'ry blifs attend :
The world their fav'rite, and the world their friend.
There are, who blind to thought's fatiguing ray,
As fortune gives examples, urge their way:
Not virtue's foes, tho' they her paths decline,
And scarce her friends, tho' with her friends they join,
· In her's, or vice's cafual road advance
Thoughtless, the finners or the faints of chance!
Yet fome more nobly fcern the vulgar voice;
With judgment fix, with zeal pursue their choice,
When ripen'd thought, when reafon born to reign,
Checks the wild tumults of the youthful vein;
While paffion's lawless tides, at their command,
Glide thro' more useful tracts, and blefs the land.
Happiest of these is he whofe matchless mind,
By learning ftrengthen'd, and by tafte refin'd,
In virtue's cause effay'd its earliest pow'rs ;
Chofe virtue's paths, and ftrew'd her paths with flow'rs.
The firft alarm'd, if freedom waves her wings:
The fittest to adorn each art fhe brings :
Lov'd by that prince whom ev'ry virtue fires:
Prais'd by that bard whom ev'ry mufe inspires:
Bleft in the tuneful art, the focial flame;
In all that wins, in all that merits fame!
"Twas youth's perplexing stage his doubts infpir'd,
When great ALCIDES to a grove retir❜d.
Thro' the lone windings of a devious glade,
Refign'd to thought, with ling'ring steps he stray'd;
Bleft with a mind to tafte fincerer joys:
Arm'd with a heart each falfe one to despise.
Dubious he stray'd, with wav'ring thoughts poffeft,
Alternate paffions ftruggling fhar'd his breast ;
The various arts which human cares divide,
In deep attention all his mind employ'd ;
Anxious, if fame an equal blifs fecur'd;
Or filent ease with fofter charms allur'd.
The filvan choir whofe numbers fweetly flow'd,
The fount that murmur'd, and the flow'rs that blow'ds
The filver flood that in meanders led
His glitt'ring streams along th' enliven'd mead;
The foothing breeze, and all those beauties join'd,
Which, whilst they please, effeminate the mind.
In vain! while diftant, on a fummit rais'd,
Th' imperial tow'rs of fame attractive blaz'd.
While thus he trac'd thro' fancy's puzzling maze
The fep'rate sweets of pleasure, and of praise;
Sudden the wind a fragrant gale convey'd,
And a new luftre gain'd upon the shade.
At once, before his wond'ring eyes were seen
Two female forms, of more than mortal mien.
Various their charms; and, in their dress and face,
Each feem'd to vie with fome peculiar grace.
This, whofe attire less clogg'd with art appear'd,
The fimple fweets of innocence endear'd.
Her fprightly bloom, her quick fagacious eye,
Shew'd native merit mix'd with modesty.
Her air diffus'd a mild yet aweful ray,
Severely sweet, and innocently gay.
Such the chafte image of the martial maid,
In artless folds of virgin white array'd!
She let no borrow'd rofe her cheeks adorn,
Her blushing cheeks, that fham'd the purple morn.
Her charms nor had, nor wanted artful foils,
Or ftudy'd geftures, or well-practis'd smiles.
She scorn'd the toys which render beauty lefs;
She prov'd th' engaging chastity of dress;
And while the chose in native charms to shine,
Ev'n thus fhe feem'd, nay more than seem'd, divine.
One modeft em'rald clafp'd the robe she wore,
And, in her hand, th' imperial fword she bore.
Sublime her height, majestic was her pace,
And match'd the aweful honours of her face,
The fhrubs, the flow'rs, that deck'd the verdant ground,
Seem'd, where fhe trod, with rifing luftre crown'd.
Still her approach with stronger influence warm'd ;
She pleas'd, while diftant, but, when near, the charm'd.
So ftrikes the gazer's eye, the filver gleam
That glitt'ring quivers o'er a distant stream :
But from its banks we fee new beauties rife,
And, in its crystal bofom, trace the skies.
With other charms the rival vifion glow'd;
And from her drefs her tinfel beauties flow'd.
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