So pleas'd I view thy fhining hair
In loose difhevel'd ringlets flow:
Not all thy art, not all thy care,
Can there one fingle grace beftow.
Survey again that verdant hill,

With native plants enamel'd o'er
Say, can the painter's utmost skill
Inftruct one flower to pleafe us mere?
As vain it were, with artful dye,

To change the bloom thy cheeks disclofe
And oh may Laura, ere fhe try,

With fresh vermilion paint the rofe.

Hark how the wood-lark's tuneful throat
Can every study'd grace excel;
Let art constrain the rambling note,

And will fhe, Laura, please so well?

Oh ever keep thy native eafe,

By no pedantic law confin'd!

For Laura's voice is form'd to please,

So Laura's words be not unkind.

NANCY of the VALE.

A

BALLA D.

"Nerine Galatea! thymo mihi dulcior Hyblæ! "Candidior cygnis! hederâ formofior albâ!"

T

HE western sky was purpled o'er
With every pleafing ray :

And flocks reviving felt no more
The fultry heats of day:

When

When from an hazle's artless bower

Soft warbled Strephon's tongue; He bleft the fcene, he bleft the hour, While Nancy's praife he fung.

"Let fops with fickle falfehood range The paths of wanton love,

While weeping maids lament their change,

And fadden every grove:
But endless bleffings crown the day
I faw fair Efham's dale!

And every bleffing find its way
To Nancy of the Vale.

"Twas from Avona's banks the maid
Diffus'd her lovely beams;

And every fhining glance difplay'd
The Naiad of the ftreams.

Soft as the wild-duck's tender young,

That floats on Avon's tide;

Bright as the water-lily, sprung,
And glittering near its fide.

Fresh as the bordering flowers, her bloom:

Her eye, all mild to view;

The little halcyon's azure plume
Was never half fo blue.

Her fhape was like the reed fo fleek,

So taper, strait, and fair;

Her dimpled fmile, her blushing cheek,

How charming sweet they were!

Far

Far in the winding vale retir'd,

This peerlefs bud I found;

And fhadowing rock and woods confpir'd
To fence her beauties round.

That nature in fo lone a dell

Should form a nymph so sweet;
Or fortune to her fecret cell
Conduct my wandering feet!

Gay lordlings fought her for their bride,
But fhe would ne'er incline:
"Prove to your equals true, fhe cry'd,
As I will prove to mine.

"Tis Strephon, on the mountain's brow,
Has won my right good will ;
To him I gave my plighted vow,
With him I'll climb the hill."

Struck with her charms and gentle truth,
I clafp'd the constant fair;

To her alone I gave my youth,
And vow my future care.

And when this vow fhall faithless prove,
Or I thofe charms forego;
The ftream that faw our tender love,

That ftream fhall ceafe to flow.

ODE to INDOLENCE. 1750.

Α'

H! why for ever on the wing Perfifts my wearied foul to roam Why, ever cheated, strives to bring Or pleasure or contentment home?

Thus the poor bird, that draws his name
From paradife's honour'd groves,
Careless fatigues his little frame ;
Nor finds the refting-place he loves.
Lo! on the rural moffy bed

My limbs with careless ease reclin'd;
Ah, gentle floth! indulgent fpread

The fame foft bandage o'er my mind.
For why should lingering thought invade,
Yet every worldly prospect cloy?
Lend me, foft floth, thy friendly aid,

And give me peace, debarr'd of joy.

Lov'st thou yon calm and filent flood,
That never ebbs, that never flows;
Protected by the circling wood

From each tempeftuous wind that blows ?
An altar on its bank fhall rife,

Where oft thy votary shall be found; What time pale autumn lulls the skies, And fickening verdure fades around.

Ye bufy race, ye factious train,

That haunt ambition's guilty fhrine;
No more perplex the world in vain,
But offer here your vows with mine.
And thou, puiffant queen! be kind :
If e'er I fhar'd thy balmy power;
If e'er I fway'd my active mind

To weave for thee the rural bower;
Diffolve in fleep each anxious care;
Each unavailing figh remove;

And only let me wake to share,

The fweets of friendship and of love.

ODE to HEALTH. 1730.

HEALTH, capricious maid!

Why dost thou shun my peaceful bower,
Where I had hope to share thy power,
And blefs thy lasting aid?

Since thou, alas! art flown,

It 'vails not whether Mufe or Grace,
With tempting fmile, frequent the place:
I figh for thee alone.

Age not forbids thy ftay;

Thou yet might'ft act the friendly part;

Thou yet might'ft raise this languid heart;
Why fpeed fo fwift away?

Thou