E LE G Y XI.

He complains how foon the pleafing novelty of life is over. To Mr. J.

A

H me, my friend! it will not, will not laft! This fairy-fcene, that cheats our youthful eyes! The charm diffolves; th' aerial mufic's paft; The banquet ceafes, and the vifion flies.

Where are the fplendid forms, the rich perfumes,
Where the gay tapers, where the spacious dome ?
Vanish'd the coftly pearls, the crimson plumes,
And we, delightlefs, left to wander home!

Vain now are books, the fage's wisdom vain !
What has the world to bribe our steps aftray?
Ere reafon learns by ftudy'd laws to reign,

The weaken'd paffions, felf-fubdued, obey.

Scarce has the fun fev'n annual courses roll'd,
Scarce fhewn the whole that fortune can fupply;

Since, not the miser so carefs'd his gold,
As I, for what it gave, was heard to figh.

On the world's ftage I wish'd some sprightly part;
To deck my native fleece with tawdry lace;
'Twas life, 'twas taste, and-oh my foolish heart!
Subftantial joy was fix'd in pow'r and place.

And you, ye works of art! allur'd mine eye,
The breathing picture, and the living stone:
"Tho' gold, tho' splendour, heav'n and fate deny,
"Yet might I call one Titian stroke my own !"

Smit with the charms of fame, whofe lovely spoil,
The wreath, the garland, fire the poet's pride,
I trim'd my lamp, confum'd the midnight oil-
But foon the paths of health and fame divide !

Oft too I pray'd, 'twas nature form'd the pray'r,
To grace my native scenes, my rural home;
To fee my trees express their planter's care,
And gay, on Attic models, raise my dome.

But now 'tis o'er, the dear delufion's o'er!
A ftagnant breezeless air becalms my foul:
A fond afpiring candidate no more,

I scorn the palm, before I reach the goal.

O youth! enchanting ftate, profufely bleft!
Bliss ev'n obtrusive courts the frolic mind;
Of health neglectful, yet by health careft;
Careless of favour, yet fecure to find.

Then glows the breaft, as op'ning rofes fair;
More free, more vivid than the linnet's wing ;
Honeft as light, transparent ev'n as air,

Tender as buds, and lavish as the spring.

Not

Not all the force of manhood's active might,
Not all the craft to fubtle age affign'd,
Not science shall extort that dear delight,
Which gay delufion gave the tender mind.

Adieu foft raptures! tranfports void of care!
Parent of raptures, dear deceit, adieu !
And you, her daughters, pining with despair,
Why, why fo foon her fleeting steps pursue!

Tedious again to curfe the drizling day!
Again to trace the wintry tracts of fnow!
Or, footh'd by vernal airs, again furvey

The felf-fame hawthorns bud, and cowflips blow!

O life! how foon of ev'ry bliss forlorn!
We start falfe joys, and urge the devious race;
A tender prey; that chears our youthful morn,
Then finks untimely, and defrauds the chace.

N

O more the mufe obtrudes her thin disguise;
No more with aukward fallacy complains,

How ev'ry fervour from my bosom flies,

And reafon in her lonesome palace reigns.
D 4

Ere

Ere the chill winter of our days arrive,

No more fhe paints the breast from paffion free; I feel, I feel one loitering with furvive—

Ah need I, FLORIO, name that wish to thee?

The ftar of VENUS ufhers in the day,

The first, the loveliest of the train that fhine! The ftar of VENUS lends her brighteft ray, When other stars their friendly beams refign.

Still in my breaft one foft defire remains,

Pure as that ftar, from guilt, from int'reft free, Has gentle DELIA trip'd across the plains,

And need I, FLORIO, name that wish to thee?

While, cloy'd to find the scenes of life the fame,
I tune with careless hand my languid lays ;
Some fecret impulfe wakes my former flame,
And fires my ftrain with hope of brighter days.

I flept not long beneath yon rural bow'rs;

And lo! my crook with flow'rs adorn'd I fee : Has gentle DELIA bound my crook with flow'rs, And need I, FLORIO, name my hopes to thee?

ELEGY

E LEGY

XIII.

To a friend, on fome flight occafion eftranged

from him.

EALTH to my friend, and many a chearful day

HEALTH

Around his feat may peaceful fhades abide! Smooth flow the minutes, fraught with fmiles, away, And, 'till they crown our union, gently glide.

Ah me! too fwiftly fleets our vernal bloom!
Loft to our wonted friendship, loft to joy!
Soon may thy breaft the cordial wish refume,
Ere wintry doubt its tender warmth destroy.

Say, were it ours, by fortune's wild command,
By chance to meet beneath the torrid zone;
Wou'dft thou reject thy DAMON's plighted hand?
Wou'dft thou with scorn thy once lov'd friend difown?

Life is that stranger land, that alien clime:

Shall kindred fouls forego their social claim?
Launch'd in the vaft abyss of space and time,
Shall dark fufpicion quench the gen'rous flame?

Myriads of fouls, that knew one parent mold,
See fadly fever'd by the laws of chance!
Myriads, in time's perennial lift enroll'd,
Forbid by fate to change one tranfient glance!

But