The groves may fmile; the rivers gently glide;
Soft thro' the vale refound the lonesome lay;
Ev'n thickets yield delight, if tafte prefide,
But can they pleafe, when LYTTLETON's away?

Pure as the fwain's the breaft of *** glows,
Ah! were the fhepherd's phrafe, like his, refin'd!
But, how improv'd the generous dictate flows
'Thro' the clear medium of a polifh'd mind!

Happy the youths who warm with BRITAIN's love,
Her inmoft with in * * * periods hear!
Happy that in the radiant circle move,

Attendant orbs, where LONSDALE gilds the sphere!

While rural faith, and every polish'd art,
Each friendly charm, in *** conspire,
From public fcenes all penfive must you part;
All joyless to the greeneft fields retire!

Go, plaintive youth! no more by fount or ftream,
Like fome lone halcyon, iocial pleasure thun 3
Go dare the light, enjoy its chearful beam,
And half the bright proceffion of the fun.

Then cover'd by thy ripen'd fhades, refume

The filent walk; no more by passion toft : Then feek thy ruftic haunts; the dreary gloom, Where ev'ry art that colours life, is loft."

In vain! the lift'ning muse attends in vain !
Restraints in hoftile band's her motions wait→→ ́ ́
Yet will I grieve, and fadden all my strain,
When injur'd beauty mourns the mufe's fate.

ELEGY

XXV.

TO DELIA, with fome flowers; complaining how much his benevolence fuffers on ac, count of his humble fortune.

Hat'er could fculpture's curious art employ,

WH

Whate'er the lavish hand of wealth can fhow's

These would I give-and every gift enjoy,

That pleas'd my fair-but fate denies the pow'r.

Bleft were my lot, to feed the focial fires!
To learn the latent wishes of a friend!

To give the boon his native taste admires,
And, for my tranfport, on his fmile depend!

Bleft too is he, whose ev'ning ramble ftrays
Where droop the fons of indigence and care!
His little gifts their gladden'd eyes amaze,
And win, at small expence, their fondeft pray'r!

And on the joy! to Thun the confcious light,

To fpare the modeft blush; to give unfeen Like fhow'rs that fall behind the veil of night,

Yet deeply tinge the fmiling vales with green.

But

But happiest they, who drooping realms relieve!
Whose virtues in our cultur❜d vales appear!
For whofe fad fate a thousand fhepherds grieve,
And fading fields allow the grief fincere.

To call loft worth from its oppreffive shade ;
To fix its equal fphere, and fee it fhine;
To hear it grateful own the generous aid;
This, this is tranfport-but muft ne'er be mine.

Faint is

my

bounded blifs; nor I refuse To range where daizies open, rivers roll; While profe or fong the languid hours amufe,

And foothe the fond impatience of my foul.

Awhile I'll weave the roofs of jafmin bow'rs,

And urge with trivial cares the loit'ring year; Awhile I'll prune my grove, protect my flow'rs, Then, unlamented, prefs an early bier!

Of thofe lov'd flow'rs the lifeless corfe may fhares Some hireling hand a fading wreath bestow 3 The reft will breathe as fweet, will grow as fair, As when their matter fmil'd to fee them glow.

The fequent morn hall wake the filvan quire;
The kid again shall wanton ere 'tis noon;
Nature will fmile, will wear her beft attire;
O! let not gentle DELIA fmile fo foon!

G4

While

While the rude hearfe conveys me flow away,
And careless eyes my vulgar fate proclaim,
Let thy kind tear my utinost worth o'rpay ;
And, foftly fighing, vindicate my fame.-

O DELIA! chear'd by thy fuperior praise,
I blefs the filent path the fates decree ;
Pleas'd, from the lift of my inglorious days,

To raze the moments crown'd with bilfs, and thee.

ELE GY XXVI.

XXX

Defcribing the forrow of an ingenuous mind, on the melancholy event of a licentious

amour.

WHY mourns my friend! why weeps his downcaft eye?

WHY
That eye where mirth, where fancy us'd to shine ?

Thy chearful meads reprove that fwelling figh;
Spring ne'er enamell'd fairer meads than thine.

Art thou not lodg'd in fortune's warm embrace ?
Wert thou not form'd by nature's partial care?
Bleft in thy fons, and bleft' in ev'ry grace

That wins the friend, or that enchants the fair!

DAMON, faid he, thy partial praise restrain;
Nor D A M O N's friendship can my peace reftore;
Alas! his very praife awakes my pain,

And my poor wounded bofom bleeds the more.

For oh! that nature on my birth had frown'd
Or fortune fix'd me to fome lowly cell!
Then had my bofom 'fcap'd this fatal wound,

Nor had I bid these vernal sweets, farewel.

i

But led by fortune's hand, her darling child,
My youth her vain licentious blifs admir'd
In fortune's train the fyren flatt'ry fmil'd,
And rafhly hallow'd all her queen infpir'd.

Of folly ftudious, ev'n of vices vain,

Ah vices! gilded by the rich and gay!
I chas'd the guilelefs daughters of the plain,
Nor dropt the chace, till JESSY was my prey.

Poor artlefs maid! to ftain thy fpotless name,
Expence, and art, and toil, united strove;
To Jure a breaft that felt the purest flame,

Suftain'd by virtue, but betray'd by love.

School'd in the fcience of love's mazy wiles,

I cloath'd each feature with affected scorn; I spoke of jealous doubts, and fickle fmiles, And, feigning, left her anxious and forlorn.

Then, while the fancy'd rage alarm'd her care,

Warm to deny, and zealous to disprove;

I bade my words the wonted foftnefs wear,
And feiz'd the minute of returning love.

To