Hear my laments, ye hills! ye woods, return
My ceafeless groans; with me, ye turtles, mourn!
How pleasant haft thou been! each lovely grace,
Each youthful charm, fate blooming on thy face:
Joy from thine eyes in radiant glories fprung,
And manna dropt from thy persuasive tongue.
Witnefs, great heaven! (from you thofe ardours came)
How wonderful his love! the kindeft dame
Lov'd not like him, nor felt fo warm a flame,
No earthly paffion to such height aspires,
And feraphs only burn with purer fires.
In vain, while honour calls to glorious arms,
And Ifrael's cause the pious patriot warms :
In vain, while deaths promifcuous fly below,
Nor youth can bribe, nor virtue ward the blow.

To a YOUNG LADY, with the ILIAD of HOMER tranflated.

G

O, happy volume, to the fair impart
The fecret wishes of a wounded heart:

Kind advocate! exert thy utmost zeal,
Describe my paffion, and my woes reveal.
Oft fhalt thou kifs that hand where rofes bloom,
And the white lily breathes its rich perfume;
On thee her eyes shall shine, thy leaves employ
Each faculty, and footh her foul with joy.
Watch the foft hour, when peaceful filence reigns,
And Philomel alone like me complains :

When

When envious prudes no longer haunt the fair,
But end a day of calumny in prayer:

O'er Quarles or Bunyan nod, in dreams relent,
Without difguife give all their paffions vent,

And mourn their wither'd charms, and youthful prime
mifpent.

Then by the waxen taper's glimmering light,
With thee the ftudious maid fhall pass the night;
Shall feel her heart beat quick in every page,
And tremble at the ftern Pelides' rage:
With horror view the half-drawn blade appear,
And the defponding tyrant pale with fear;
To calm that foul untam'd, fage Neftor fails,
And ev'n celestial wisdom scarce prevails.
Then lead her to the margin of the main,
And let her hear th' impatient chief complain;
Tofs'd with fuperior ftorms, on the bleak fhores
He lies, and louder than the billows roars.
Next the dread scene unfold of war and blood,
Hector in arms triumphant, Greece fubdued;
The partial gods who with their foes confpire,
The dead, the dying, and the fleet on fire.
But tell, oh! tell the cause of all this woe,
The fatal fource from whence thefe mifchiefs flow;
Tell her 'twas love deny'd the hero fir'd,
Depriv'd of her whom most his heart defir'd.
Not the dire vengeance of the thundering Jove,
Can match the boundless rage of injur’d love.
Stop the fierce torrent, and its billows rife,
Lay waste the fhores, invade both earth and fkies :

Confine

Confine it not, but let it gently flow,

It kindly chears the fmiling plains below,

And everlasting sweets upon its borders grow.

To Troy's proud walls the wondering maid convey,
With pointed fpires and golden turrets gay,
The work of gods: thence let the fair behold
The court of Priam, rich in gems and gold;
His numerous fons, his queen's majestic pride,
Th' afpiring domes, th' apartments stretching wide,
Where on their looms Sidonian virgins wrought,
And weav'd the battles which their lovers fought.
Here let her eyes furvey those fatal charms,
The beauteous prize that fet the world in arms;
Through gazing crowds, bright progeny of Jove,
She walks, and every panting heart beats love.
Ev'n faplefs age new blossoms at the fight,
And views the fair destroyer with delight:
Beauty's vaft power, hence to the nymph make known,
In Helen's triumphs let her read her own;
Nor blame her flaves, but lay the guilt on fate,
And pardon failings which her charms create.
Rash bard! forbear, nor let thy flattering Mufe,
With pleafing visions, thy fond heart abuse;
Vain are thy hopes prefumptuous, vain thy prayer,
Bright is her image, and divinely fair :

But oh! the goddess in thy arms is fleeting air.
So dreams th' ambitious man when rich Tokay,
Or Burgundy, refines his vulgar clay :

The white rod trembles in his potent hand,

And crowds obfequious wait his high command;

P

}

Upon

Upon his breast he views the radiant star,
And gives the word around him, peace or war:
In ftate he reigns, for one fhort, bufy night,
But foon convinc'd by the next dawning light,
Curfes the fading joys that vanish from his fight.

AN EPISTLE TO ALLAN RAMSAY.

TEAR fair Avona's filver tide,

NE

Whose waves in foft meanders glide,

I read, to the delighted swains,

Your jocund fongs and rural strains.
Smooth as her streams your numbers flow,
Your thoughts in varied beauties show,
Like flowers that on her borders grow.
While I furvey, with ravifh'd eyes,
His friendly gift, my valued prize,
Where fifter Arts, with charms divine,
In their full bloom and beauty fhine,
Alternately my foul is bleft.
Now I behold my welcome gueft,
That graceful, that engaging air,
So dear to all the brave and fair.
Nor has th' ingenious artist shown
His outward lineaments alone,

}

* Lord Somervile was pleased to send me his own picture, and Mr. Ramfay's works. SOMERVILE.

But

But in th' expreffive draught defign'd,"

The nobler beauties of his mind;
True friendship, love, benevolence,
Unftudied wit, and manly fenfe.:
Then, as your book I wander o'er,
And feaft on the delicious store
(Like the laborious busy bee,
Pleas'd with the sweet variety),
With equal wonder and surprize,
I fee refembling portraits rife.
Brave archers march in bright array,
In troops the vulgar line the way.
Here the droll figures flyly fneer,
Or coxcombs at full length appear.
There woods and lawns, a rural scene,
And fwains that gambol on the green.'
Your pen can act the pencil's part
With greater genius, fire, and art.

Believe me, bard, no hunted hind

That pants against the fouthern wind,
And feeks the stream through unknown ways;

No matron in her teeming days,

E'er felt fuch longings, fuch defires,

As I to view thofe lofty fpires,

Thofe domes, where fair Edina shrouds

Her towering head amid the clouds.
But oh! what dangers interpofe !

Vales deep with dirt, and hills with fnows,
Proud winter floods with rapid force,

Forbid the pleafing intercourse.