ELEGY

ᎬᏙ .

OPHELIA'S ura.

To Mr. G

T

HRO' the dim veil of ev'ning's dusky shade, Near fome lone fane, or yew's funereal green, What dreary forms has magic fear furvey'd!

What shrouded fpectres fuperftition seen!

But you fecure shall pour your fad complaint,
Nor dread the meagre phantom's wan array ;
What none but fear's officious hand can paint,
What none, but fuperftition's eye, furvey.

The glim'ring twilight and the doubtful dawa
Shall fee your step to these fad scenes return:
Conftant, as cryftal dews impearl the lawn,

Shall STREPHON's tear bedew OPHELIA's urn!

Sure nought unhallow'd fhall prefume to stray
Where fleep the reliques of that virtuous maid:
Nor aught unlovely bend its devious way,
Where soft OPHELIA's dear remains are laid.

Haply thy mufe, as with unceafing fighs

She keeps late vigils on her urn reclin'd, May fee light groups of pleafing vifions rife ; And phantoms glide, but of celestial kind.

Three

There fame, her clarion pendent at her fide,
Shall feek forgiveness of OPHELIA's fhade;
"Why has such worth, without distinction, dy'd,
Why, like the defert's lilly, bloom'd to fade ?"

Then young fimplicity, averfe to feign,

Shall unmolested breathe her softeft figh: And candour with unwonted warmth complain, And innocence indulge a wailful cry.

Then elegance with coy judicious hand,

Shall cull fresh flow'rets for OPHELIA's tomb:
And beauty chide the fates' fevere command,
That shew'd the frailty of fo fair a bloom!

And fancy then with wild ungovern'd woe,
Shall her lov'd pupil's native tafte explain:
For mournful fable all her hues forego,

And afk fweet folace of the mufe in vain!

Ah gentle forms expect no fond relief;

Too much the facred Nine their lofs deplore: Well may ye grieve, nor find an end of grief--Your beft, your brighteft fav'rite is no more.

He compares the turbulence of love with the tranquillity of friendship.

F

To MELISSA his Friend.

ROM love, from angry love's inclement reign
I pass awhile to friendship's equal skies ;
Thou, gen'rous maid, reliev'ft my partial pain,
And chear'st the victim of another's eyes.

"Tis thou, MELISSA, thou deferv'ft my care: How can my will and reason disagree? How can my passion live beneath despair!

How can my bofom figh for aught but thee?

Ah dear MELISSA! pleas'd with thee to rove,
My foul has yet furviv'd its dreariest time;
Ill can I bear the various clime of love!

Love is a pleafing, but a various clime!

So fmiles immortal MARO's fav'rite fhore,

PARTHENOPE, with ev'ry verdure crown'd! When ftrait VESUVIO's horrid cauldron's roar,

And the dry vapour blasts the regions round.

Oh blissful regions! oh unrival'd plains!
When Maro to thefe fragrant haunts retir'd!
Oh fatal realms! and oh accurft domains!
When PLINY, 'mid fulphureous clouds, expir'd!

So fmiles the furface of the treacherous main,
As o'er its waves the peaceful halcyons play;
When foon rude winds their wonted rule regain,
And sky and ocean mingle in the fray.

But let or air contend, or ocean rave;
Ev'n hope fubfide amid the billows toft ;
Hope, ftill emergent, ftill contemns the wave,
And not a feature's wonted fmile is loft.

ELE G Y VI.

To a lady on the language of birds.

NOME then, DIONE, let us range the grove,
The fcience of the feather'd choirs explore

C

Hear linnets argue, larks descant of love,
And blame the gloom of folitude no more.

My doubt fubfides-'tis no Italian fong,"
Nor fenfelefs ditty, chears the vernal tree :
Ah! who, that hears DION E's tuneful tongue,
Shall doubt that mufic may with sense agree?

And come, my mufe! that lov'ft the filvan shade;
Evolve the mazes, and the mift difpel :
Tranflate the fong; convince my doubting maid,
No folemn dervife can explain fo well.—

Penfive beneath the twilight shades I fate,
The flave of hopeless vows, and cold disdain !
When PHILOMEL addrefs'd his mournful mate,
And thus I conftru'd the mellifluent train.

"Sing on, my bird-the liquid notes prolong,
At ev'ry note a lover sheds his tear ;
Sing on, my bird-'tis DAMON hears thy song;
Nor doubt to gain applause, when lovers hear.

He the fad fource of our complaining knows ;
A foe to TEREUS, and to lawless love!
He mourns the story of our ancient woes ;
Ah! cou'd our mufic his complaint remove!

Yon' plains are govern'd by a peerless maid;
And fee, pale CYNTHIA mounts the vaulted sky,
A train of lovers court the checquer'd fhade;
Sing on, my bird, and hear thy mate's reply.

Ere while no fhepherd to these woods retir'd;

No lover bleft the glow-worm's pallid ray: But ill-ftar'd birds, that lift'ning not admir'd, Or lift'ning envy'd our fuperior lay.

Chear'd