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By rapture's blaze impell'd, they swell the artle

lay.

But ah! in vain they strive to sooth,
With gentle arts, the tort'ring hours;
Adversity [4], with rankling tooth,
Her baleful gifts profusely pours.

Behold she comes, the fiend forlorn,
Array'd in Horror's settled gloom;
She strews the briar and prickly thorn,
And triumphs in th' infernal doom.

With frantic fury and insatiate rage,

She gnaws the throbbing breast and blasts glowing page.

[4] Hymn to Adversity.

ll'd, they swell the art

Damp'd by the leaden hand of com

ey strive to sooth,

the tort'ring hours; rankling tooth,

profusely pours.

the fiend forlorn,

or's settled gloom;
r and prickly thorn,
th'infernal doom.

satiate rage,
ng breast and blasts the

dversity.

Yet stay, O! stay, celestial p

And with a hand of kind Dispel the boist❜rous storm t

Destructive on the fav'rite O watch with me his last expirin And snatch him from the arms of death.

Hark the Fatal Sisters [6] join, And with Horror's mutt'ring s Weave the tissue of his line, While the dreadful spell resou

[5] The Progress of Poesy.

[6] The Fatal Sisters, an Od

[blocks in formation]

"O'er the Muse's tuneful band-
"Weave the fun'ral web of Gray."

'Tis done, 'tis done-the iron hand of pain,
With ruthless fury and corrosive force,
Racks every joint, and seizes every vein:
He sinks, he groans, he falls a lifeless corse.

Thus fades the flow'r nipp'd by the frozen gale, Tho' once so sweet, so lovely to the eye:

Thus the tall oaks, when boist'rous storms as

sail,

Torn from the earth, a mighty ruin lie.

[blocks in formation]

MR. GRAY's MONUMENT,

IN

WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

No more the Grecian Muse unrivall'd reigns,

To Britain let the nations homage pay!
She boasts a Homer's fire in Milton's strains,
A Pindar's rapture in the lyre of GRAY.

FINIS

تور

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