Chear'd by thr fun, the vaffals of his pow'r,
Let fuch by day unite their jarring ftrains!
But let us chufe the calm, the filent hour,
Nor want fit audience while DIONE reigns."

EL EGY VII.

He defcribes his vifion to an acquaintance. Cætera per terras omnes animalia, &c. VIRG.

N diftant heaths, beneath autumnal skies,

ON

Penfive I saw the circling fhades defcend ; Weary and faint I heard the form arife,

While the fun vanifh'd like a faithlefs friend.

No kind companion led my steps aright;
No friendly planet lent its glim'ring ray ;
Ev'n the lone cot refus❜d its wonted light,
Where toil in peaceful slumber clos'd the day.

Then the dull bell had giv'n a pleasing found;
The village cur 'twere tranfport then to hear s
In dreadful filence all was hush'd around,

While the rude ftorm alone distress'd mine ear.

As led by ORWELL's winding banks I ftray'd,
Where tow'ring WOLSEY breath'd his native air;
A fudden luftre chas'd the flitting fhade,

The founding winds were hush'd, and all was fair.

Inftant

Inftant a grateful form appear'd confeft;

White were his locks with aweful scarlet crown'd, ́
And livelier far than Tyrian seem'd his vest,
That with the glowing purple ting'd the ground.

Stranger, he faid, amid this pealing rain, Benighted, lonesome, whither wou'dft thou stray? Does wealth or pow'r thy weary step confirain? Reveal thy with, and let me point the way.

For know I trod the trophy'd paths of pow'r;
Felt ev'ry joy that fair ambition brings ;
And left the lonely roof of yonder bow'r,
To ftand beneath the canopies of kings.

I bade low hinds the tow'ring ardour fhare;
Nor meanly rofe, to blefs myself alone:
I fnatch'd the fhepherd from his fleecy care,
And bade his wholesome dictate guard the throne..

Low at my feet the fuppliant peer I faw;
I faw proud empires my decifion wait;
My will was duty, and my word was law,

My fmile was transport, and my frown was fate."

Ah me! faid I, nor pow'r I feek, nor gain;
Nor urg'd by hope of fame these toils endure;

A fimple youth, that feels a lover's pain,

And, from his friend's condolance, hopes a cure;

He,

He, the dear youth, to whofe abodes I roam,
Nor can mine honours, nor my fields extend;
Yet for his fake I leave my diftant home,

Which oaks embosom, and which hills defend.

Beneath that home I fcorn the wintry wind;

The spring, to fhade me, robes her fairest tree;
And if a friend my grafs-grown threshold find,
O how my lonely cot refounds with glee !

Yet, tho' averse to gold in heaps amafs'd,
I wish to blefs, I languish to bellow;
And tho' no friend to fame's obftreperous blast,
Still, to her dulcet murmurs not a foe.

Too proud with fervile tone to deign addrefs;
Too mean to think that honours are my due,
Yet fhou'd fome patron yield my stores to bless,
I fure shou'd deem my boundless thanks were few.

But tell me, thou! that, like a meteor's fire,

Shot'ft blazing forth; disdaining dull degrees;
Shou'd I to wealth, to fame, to pow'r aspire,
Muft I not pass more rugged paths than these?

Muft I not groan beneath a guilty load,

Praise him I fcorn, and him I love betray? Does not felonious envy bar the road?

Or falfehood's treach'rous foot beset the way?

Say

Say fhou'd I pass thro' favour's crowded gate,
Muft not fair truth inglorious wait behind?
Whilft! approach the glitt'ring scenes of state,
My best companion no admittance find?

Nurs'd in the fhades by freedom's lenient care,
Shall I the rigid fway of fortune own?
Taught by the voice of pious truth, prepare
To fpurn an altar, and adore a throne?

And when proud fortune's ebbing tide recedes,
And when it leaves me no unshaken friend,
Shall I not weep that e'er I left the meads,
Which oaks embosom, and which hills defend?

Oh! if these ills the price of pow'r advance,
Check not my speed where focial joys invite !
The troubled vifion caft a mournful glance,
And fighing vanish'd in the shades of night.

ELEGY

EGY

He describes his early love of poetry, and its confequences. To Mr. G.

A

1745.

H me! what envious magic thins my fold?
What mutter'd spell retards their late increase?
Such lefs'ning fleeces muft the fwain behold,
That e'er with Doric pipe effays to please,

I faw my friends in ev'ning circles meet ;

I took my vocal reed, and tun'd my lay;
I heard them fay my vocal reed was sweet:
Ah fool! to credit what I heard them fay!

Ill-fated bard! that feeks his fkill to show,
Then courts the judgment of a friendly ear!
Not the poor veteran, that permits his foe
To guide his doubtful step, has more to fear.

Nor cou'd

my G mistake the critic's laws, "Till pious friendship mark'd the pleasing way: Welcome fuch error! ever bleft the cause ! Ev'n tho' it led me boundless leagues astray!

*N, B. Written after the death of Mr. Pors.

Couldft