But

you fecure fhall pour your fad complaint,
Nor dread the meagre phantoms wan array;
What none but fear's officious hand can paint,
What none, but fuperftition's eye, survey.
The glimmering twilight and the doubtful dawn
Shall fee your step to these fad fcenes return:
Conftant, as crystal dews impearl the lawn,
Shall Strephon's tear bedew Ophelia's urn!
Sure nought unhallow'd shall presume to stray
Where fleep the reliques of that virtuous maid:
Nor aught unlovely bend its devious way,
Where foft Ophelia's dear remains are laid.
Haply thy Mufe, as with unceasing fighs
She keeps late vigils on her urn reclin’d,
May fee light groups of pleasing visions rife ;
And phantoms glide, but of celestial kind.
There fame, her clarion pendant at her fide,
Shall feek forgiveness of Ophelia's shade;
"Why has fuch worth, without distinction, dy'd,
"Why, like the defert's lily, bloom'd to fade?”
Then young fimplicity, averfe to feign,

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

Then elegance, with coy judicious hand,
Shall cull fresh flowrets for Ophelia's tomb :
And beauty chide the Fates' fevere command,
That shew'd the frailty of so fair a bloom!

Soft as the line of love-fick Hammond flows,
'Twas his fond heart effus'd the melting theme
Ah! never could Aonia's hill difclofe

So fair a fountain, or fo lov'd a stream.

Ye loveless bards! intent with artful pains
To form a figh, or to contrive a tear !
Forego your Pindus, and on

plains

Survey Camilla's charms, and grow fincere. But thou, my friend! while in thy youthful foul Love's gentle tyrant feats his aweful throne, Write from thy bofom-let not art controul

The ready pen, that makes his edicts known. Pleafing, when youth is long expir'd, to trace, The forms our pencil, or our pen defign'd!

Such was our youthful air, and shape, and face! "Such the foft image of our youthful mind! Soft whilst we fleep beneath the rural bowers, The Loves and Graces fteal unfeen away; And where the turf diffus'd its pomp of flowers, We wake to wintry scenes of chill decay!

>Curfe the fad fortune that detains thy fair;

Praise the soft hours that gave thee to her arms; Paint thy proud fcorn of every vulgar care,

When Hope exalts thee, or when Doubt alarms. Where with Oenone thou haft worn the day, Near fount or stream, in meditation, rove;

If in the grove Oenone lov'd to stray,

The faithful Mufe fhall meet thee in the grove.

ELEGY

ELE GY II.

On pofthumous reputation. To a FRIEND.

GRIEF of griefs! that envy's frantic ire Should rob the living virtue of its praife; O foolish Mufes! that with zeal inspire

To deck the cold insensate fhrine with bays! When the free spirit quits her humble frame, To tread the skies with radiant garlands crown'd, Say, will fhe hear the distant voice of fame? Or, hearing, fancy sweetness in the found? Perhaps ev'n genius pours a flighted lay; Perhaps ev'n friendship sheds a fruitless tear; Ev'n Lyttelton but vainly trims the bay,

And fondly graces Hammond's mournful bier. Though weeping virgins haunt his favour'd urn, Renew their chaplets, and repeat their fighs; Though near his tomb, Sabæan odours burn, The loitering fragrance will it reach the skies ? No, fhould his Delia votive wreaths prepare, Delia might place the votive wreaths in vain : Yet the dear hope of Delia's future care

Once crown'd his pleasures, and difpell'd his pain. Yes-the fair profpect of furviving praise Can every fenfe of prefent joys excel: For this, great Hadrian chofe laborious days; Through this, expiring, bade a gay farewel.

Shall

Shall then our youths, who fame's bright fabric raise,

To life's precarious date confine their care? O teach them you, to spread the sacred base, To plan a work, through latest ages fair!

Is it finall tranfport, as with curious eye

You trace the ftory of each Attic fage,

To think your blooming praise shall time defy ?
Shall waft like odours through the pleafing page?
To mark the day, when through the bulky tome,
Around your name the varying ftyle refines ?
And readers call their loft attention home,

Led by that index where true genius fhines?
Ah let not Britons doubt their focial aim,
Whofe ardent bofom catch this ancient fire!
Cold intereft melts before the vivid flame,
And patriot ardours, but with life, expire!

ELE GY III.

On the untimely death of a certain learned acquaintance.

IF

F proud Pygmalion quit his cumbrous frame, Funereal pomp the fcanty tear fupplies; Whilst heralds loud with venal voice proclaim, Lo! here the brave and the puiffant lies. When humbler Alcon leaves his drooping friends, Pageant nor plume diftinguish Alcon's bier; The faithful Mufe with votive fong attends, And blots the mournful numbers with a tear.

He

He little knew the fly penurious art;

That odious art which fortune's favourites know; Form'd to beftow, he felt the warmest heart,

But envious Fate forbade him to beftow.

He little knew to ward the fecret wound;

He little knew that mortals could enfnare; Virtue he knew; the nobleft joy he found,

To fing her glories, and to paint her fair! Ill was he skill'd to guide his wandering sheep; And unforeseen disaster thinn'd his fold; Yet at another's lofs the fwain would weep.; And, for his friend, his very crook were fold. Ye fons of wealth! protect the Muse's train; From winds protect them, and with food supply; Ah! helpless they, to ward the threaten'd pain!

The meagre famine, and the wintery sky? He lov❜d a nymph: amidst his slender store, He dar'd to love; and Cynthia was his theme; He breath'd his plaints along the rocky shore, They only echo'd o'er the winding stream; His nymph was fair! the sweetest bud that blows Revives lefs lovely from the recent shower; So Philomel enamour'd eyes the rofe;

Sweet bird! enamour'd of the fweeteft flower! He lov'd the Mufe; fhe taught him to complain; He faw his timorous loves on her depend; He lov'd the Mufe; although she taught in vain; He lov'd the Mufe, for fhe was virtue's friend.