Couldst thou reprove me, when I nurs❜d the flame
On lift'ning CHERWELL'S ofier banks reclin'd?
While foe to fortune, unfedec'd by fame,

3

I footh'd the biafs of a careless mind.

Youth's gentle kindred, health and love were met;
What tho' in ALMA's guardian arms I play'd?
How fhall the muse those vacant hours forget?
Or deem that blifs by folid cares repaid?

Thou know'ft how tranfport thrills the tender breast,
Where love and fancy fix their op'ning reign;

How nature fhines in livelier colours dreft,

To bless their union, and to grace their train.

So first when PHOEBUS met the Cyprian queen,
And favour'd RHODES beheld their paffion crown'd,
Unusual flow'rs enrich'd the painted green;
And swift fpontaneous roses blush'd around.

Now fadly lorn, from TW1TNAM's widow'd bow'r,
The drooping mufes take their casual way;
And where they ftop, a flood of tears they pour;
And where they weep, no more the fields are gay.

Where is the dappled pink, the sprightly rose ?
The cowflip's golden cup no more I see :
Dark and difcolour'd ev'ry flow'r that blows,
To form the garland, Elegy! for thee!

Enough

Enough of tears has wept the virtuous dead;
Ah might we now the pious rage controu!!
Hufh'd be my grief ere ev'ry smile be fled,

Ere the deep fwelling figh fubvert the foul!

If near fome trophy fpring a strippling bay,
Pleas'd we behold the graceful umbrage rife ;
But foon too deep it works its baneful way,
And, low on earth, the proftrate* ruin lies.

I

ELE GY IX.

He defcribes his difintereftedness to a friend.

NE'ER muft tinge my lip with Celtic wines ;

The pomp of INDIA muft I ne'er display;

Nor boaft the produce of Peruvian mines,
Nor, with Italian founds, deceive the day.

Down yonder brook my crystal bev'rage flows ;
My grateful sheep their annual fleeces bring;
Fair in my garden buds the damask rose,

And, from my grove, I hear the throftle fing.

My

* Alludes to what is reported of the bay tree, that if it is planted too near the walls of an edifice, its roots will work their way underneath, till they deftroy the foundation.

My fellow fwains! avert your dazled eyes;
In vain allur'd by glitt'ring fpoils they rove;
The fates ne'er meant them for the shepherd's prize,
Yet gave them ample recompence, in love.

They gave you vigour from your parent's veins ;
They gave you toils; but toils your finews brace;
They gave you nymphs, that own their amorous pains,
And fhades, the refuge of the gentle race.

To carve your loves, to paint your mutual flames,
See! polish'd fair, the beech's friendly rind !
To fing foft carrols to your lovely dames,
See vocal grotts, and echoing vales affign'd!

Wou'dft thou, my STREPHON, love's delighted flave!
Tho' fure the wreaths of chivalry to share,
Forego the ribbon thy MATILDA gave ?
And giving, bade thee in remembrance wear.

Ill fare my peace, but ev'ry idle toy,

If to my mind my DELIA's form it brings, Has truer worth, imparts fincerer joy,

Than all that bears the radiant ftamp of kings.

O my foul weeps, my breaft with anguish bleeds,
When love deplores the tyrant pow'r of gain!
Difdaining riches as the futile weeds,

I rife fuperior, and the rich difdain.

Oft

Oft from the ftream, flow-wandering down the glade,
Penfive I hear the nuptial peal rebound;

"Some mifer weds, I cry, the captive maid,

"And fome fond lover fickens at the found.”

Not SOMERVILLE, the mufe's friend of old,
Tho' now exalted to yon ambient sky,
So fhun'd a foul distain'd with earth and gold,
So lov'd the pure, the generous breast, as I.

Scorn'd be the wretch that quits his genial bowl,
His loves, his friendships, ev'n his felf, refigns;
Perverts the facred instinct of his foul,

And to a ducate's dirty fphere confines.

But come, my friend, with tafte, with science bleft,
Ere age impair me, and ere gold allure;

Reftore thy dear idea to my breast,

The rich depofit fhall the fhrine fecure.

Let others toil to gain the fordid ore,

The charms of independence let us fing;

Bleft with thy friendship, can I wish for more?
I'll spurn the boasted wealth of * LYDIA's king.

ELEGY

* Crœfus.

VOL. I

D

ELE GY X.

To fortune, fuggefting his motive for repining at her difpenfations.

SK not the caufe, why this rebellious tongue

A Loads with fresh curfes thy detefted fway

Afk not, thus branded in my fofteft fong,

Why ftands the flatter'd name, which all obey?

'Tis not, that in my fhed I lurk forlorn,
Nor fee my roof on Parian columns rife ;
That, on this-breaft, no mimic ftar is borne,
Rever'd, ah! more than those that light the flies.

"Tis not, that on the turf fupinely faid,

I fing or pipe, but to the flocks that graze;
And, all inglorious, in the lonesome shade,
My finger ftiffens, and my voice decays.

Not, that my fancy mourns thy ftern command,
When many an embrio dome is loft in air;
While guardian prudence checks my eager hand,
And, ere the turf is broken, cries, « Forbear.

Forbear, vain youth! be cautious, weigh thy gold;
Nor let yon rifing column more afpire;

"Ah! better dwell in ruins, than behold

"Thy fortunes mould'ring, and thy domes entire.

"HONORIO