Ah foolish man! to feek the tuneful maids
On other plains, or near lefs verdant shades ;

Scarce have my footsteps prefs'd the favour'd ground,
When founds etherial strike my ear-
At once celestial forms appear;
My fugitives are found!

The muses here attune their lyres,
Ah partial with unwonted fires;
Here, hand in hand, with careless mien,
The sportivé graces trip the green.

But whilft I wander'd o'er a scene so fair,
Too well at one furvey I trace,..
How every muse, and every grace,
Had long employ'd their care.

Lurks not a ftone enrich'd with lively fain,
Blooms not a flower amid the vernal store,
Falls not a plume on INDIA's diftant plain,
Glows not a fhell on ADRIA's rocky shore,
But torn methought from native lands or feas,
From their arrangement, gain fresh pow'r to please.

And fome had bent the wildering maze,
Bedeckt with every fhrub that blows;
And fome entwin'd the willing sprays,
To fhield th' illuftrious dame's repofe :
Others had grac'd the fprightly dome,
And taught the portrait where to glow;
Others arrang'd the curious tome;

Or 'mid the decorated space,,
Affign'd the laurel'd bust a place,

And given to learning all the pomp of fhow.
And now from every task withdrawn,
They met and frisk'd it o'er the lawn.

Ah! woe is me, faid I;

my cry,

And ***'s hilly circuit heard
Have I for this, with labour ftrove,

And lavish'd all my little store
To fence for you my shady grove,

And scollop every winding shore;

And fringe with every purple rofe,
The faphire ftream that down my valley flows?

Ah! lovely treacherous maids!

To quit unfeen my votive shades,
When pale disease, and torturing pain
Had torn me from the breezy plain,
And to a reftless couch confin'd,

Who ne'er your wonted tasks declin'd.
She needs not your officious aid
To fwell the fong, or plan the shade;
By genuine fancy fir'd,

Her native genius guides her hand,

And while fhe marks the fage command,
More lovely fcenés her skill shall raise,
Her lyre refound with nobler lays

Than ever you infpir'd.

Thus

Thus I my rage and grief display;
But vainly blame, and vainly mourn,
Nor will a grace or mufe return
"Till LUXBOROUGH lead the way.

XXXXXX

Written in a FLOWER BOOK of my own Colouring, defigned for Lady PLIMOUTH.

1753-4.

Debitæ nymphis opifex coronæ.

B The pride of all the blooming year;

RING, FLORA, bring thy treasures here,

And let me, thence, a garland frame,
To crown this fair, this peerless dame!

But ah! fince envious winter lours,
And HEWELL meads refign their flow'rs,
Let art and friendship joint essay
Diffuse their flow'rets, in her way.
Not nature can, herself prepare
A worthy wreath for LESBIA's hair,
Whofe temper, like her forehead, smooth,
Whofe thoughts and accents form'd to foothe,
Whose pleafing mien, and make refin❜d,
Whose artless breast, and polish'd mind,
Form all the nymphs of plain or grove,
Deferv'd and won my PLIMOUTH's love.

HOR.

ANACRE.

AN ACRE ON TIC. 1738.

WAS in a cool Aonian glade,”

'TWAS

The wanton CUPID, spent with toil,

Had fought refreshment from the shade ;
And stretch'd him on the mossy soil.

A vagrant muse drew nigh, and found
The subtle traitor fast asleep;

And is it thine to fhore profound,

She faid, yet leave the world to weep?

But hufh

from this auspicious hour,
The world, I ween, may reft in peace;}
And robb'd of darts, and stript of pow'r,
Thy peevish petulance decrease.

Sleep on, poor child! whilft I withdraw,
And this thy vile artillery hide→ de la
When the Caftalian fount she saw,
And plung'd his arrows in the tide

That magic fount-ill-judging maid!
Shall cause you foon to curse the day
You dar'd the fhafts of love invade ;
And gave his arms redoubled fway.

For

K

For in a fream fo wonderous clear,
When angry CUPID searches round, ·
Will not the radiant points appear?
Will not the furtive spoils be found ?.

Too foon they were; and every dart,
Dipt in the muse's mystic spring,
Acquir'd new force to wound the heart;
And taught at once to love and fing,

Then farewel ye Pierian quire;

A

For who will now your altars throng?

From love we learn to fwell the lyre;

And echo afks no fweeter fong.

3

OD E.

Written, 1739.

HOR.

Urit fpes animi credula mutui.

WAS not by beauty's aid alone,
That love ufurp'd his airy throne,

His boasted pow'r display'd:.....
'Tis kindness that fecures his aim,
"Tis hope that feeds the kindling flame,
Which beauty first convey'd.

In CLARA's eyes, the lightnings view;
Her lips with all the role's hue

Have all its fweets combin'd;
Yet vain the blush, and faint the fire,
"Till lips at once, and eyes conspire
To prove the charmer kind

VOL. I.

K

L

Tho