Auditæ voces, vagitus et ingens, Infantamque animæ fentes in limine primo. Virg. H me! full forely is my heart forlorn, A To think how modeft worth neglected lies, Such as I oft have chanced to espy, name; Who boasts unruly brats with birch to tame: And oft-times, on vagaries idly bent, [fhent. Which Learningnearherlittledomedid ftow, Whilome a twig of fmall regard to fee, Tho' now fo wide its waving branches flow, And work the fimple vaffals mickle woe; For not a wind might curl the leaves that blew; [low; But their limbs fhudder'd, and their pulfe beat And, as they look'd, they found their horror grew, And fhap'd it into rods, and tingled at the view. So have I feen (who has not, may conceive) A lifeless phantom near a garden plac'd; So doth it wanton birds of peace bereave, Of sport, of fong, of pleasure, of repast: They tart, they itare, they wheel, they look aghaft; Sad fervitude! Such comfortless annoy Ne fuperftition clog his dance of joy, On which the tribe their gambols do display; Leftweaklywights of fmallerfizefhoulditray, Eager, perdie, to bafk in funny day! [found, The noites intermix'd, which thence reDo Learning's little tenement betray; Where fits the dame, difguis'd in look profound [around. And eyes her Fairy throng, and turns her wheel Her cap, far whiter than the driven fnow, Emblem right meet of decency does yield, Her apron dyed in grain, as blue, I trowe, As is the hare-bell that adorns the field: And in her hand, for fceptre, the does wield Tway birchin fprays, with anxious fear entwin'd, With dark diftruft, and fad repentance fill'd, And ftedfaft hate, and fharp affliction join'd, The childish faces of old ol's train, The cot no more, Iween, were deem'd the cell Where comely peace of mind and decent order dwell. A ruffet ftole was o'er her fhoulders thrown; 'Twas her own country bred the flock fo fair; 'Twas her own labour did the fleece prepare, And, footh to fay,her pupils, rang'd around, Thro' pious awe did term it paffing rare; For they in gaping wonderment abound, And think, no doubt, the been the greatest wight, on ground. Albeit, ne flatt'ry did corrupt her truth; Ne pompous title did debauch her ear; Goody, good-woman, goffip, n'aunt, forfooth, Or dame, the fole additions fhe did hear; Yet thefe the challeng'd, these the held right dear; Ne would efteem him act as mought behove, Whofhouldnot honour'd eld with thefe revere; For never title yet fo mean could prove, But there was eke a mindwhich did that title love. One ancient hen fhe took delight to feed, The plodding pattern of the bufy dame, Which ever and anon, impell'd by need, Into her fchool, begirt with chickens, came; Such favour did her paft deportment claim : And if neglect had lavish'd on the ground Fragment of bread, fhe would collect the fame; For well the new, and quaintly cold exWhat fin it were to waste the smallest crumb she pound. found. Herbs too fhe knew, and well of each could speak, That in her garden fipp'd the filv'ry dew, Where no vain flow'r difcios'd a gaudy itreak, But herbs for ufe and phy fic not a few, Of grey renown, within thofe borders grew; The tufted bafil, pun-provoking thyme, Freth baum, and marygold of cheeful bue, The lowly gill, that never dares to climb, And more I fain would fing, difdaining here to rhyme. Yet euplirafy may not be left unfung, Thatgivesdimeyestowanderieaguesaround; And pungent radith, biting infant's tongue; And plaintain ribb`d, that heals the reaper's wound; The south-west wind, south, &c. And And marj'ram sweet,in fhepherd's pofie found; And lavender, whofe fpikes of azure bloom Shall be, erewhile, in arid bundles bound, To lurk amidst the labours of her loom, And crown her 'kerchiefs clean with mickle rare perfume. [crown'd And here trim rofemarine, that whilom The daintiest garden of the proudest peer, Ere, driven from its envied fite, it found A facred fhelter for its branches here, Where edg'd with gold its glitt'ring skirts appear. O waffel days! O customs meet and well! Ere this was banish'd from its lofty sphere; Simplicity then fought this humble cell, Nor ever would the more with thane and lordling dwell. Here oft the dame, on Sabbath's decent eve, Hymned fuch pfalms as Steenhold forth did mete. If winter 'twere she to her hearth did cleave: But in her garden found a summer feat: Sweet melody! to hear her then repeat How Ifrael's fons, beneath a foreign king, While taunting foe-men did a fong entreat, All for the nonce untuning every string, Uphung their ufelefs lyres-fmall heart had they to fing. For the was juft, and friend to virtuous lore, And pafs'd muchtime in trulyvirtuousdeed; And in thofe elfins' ears would oft deplore The times when Truth by Popish rage did bleed, And tortious death was true Devotion's meed; And fimple Faith in iron chains did mourn, That nould on wooden image place her creed; And lawny faints in finould'ring flames did burn: [return. Ah! deareft Lord! forefend thilk days fhould e'er In elbow chair, like that of Scottish stem, By the fharp tooth of cank'ring Eld defac'd, In which, when he receives his diadem, Ourfov'reign prince and liefeft liege isplac'd, The matron fate: and fome with rank fhe grac'd, The fource of children's and of courtier's pride! [pafs'd) Redrefs'd affronts (for vile affronts there And warn'd them not the fretful to deride, But love each other dear, whatever them betide. Right well the knew each temper to defcry, To thwart the proud,and the fubmifs to raife; Some with vile copper prize exalt on high, And fome entice withpittancefmallof praife; And other fome with baleful fprig the frays: E'en abfent, the the reins of pow'r doth hold, While with quaint arts the giddy crowd fe fways; Forewarn'd,if little bird their pranksbehold, *Twill whisper in her ear, and all the fcene un fold. Lo! now with ftate fhe utters the command! Eftfoons the urchins to their tasks repair; Their books of ftature small, they take in hand, Which with pellucid horn fecured are, To fave from finger wet the letters fair. The work fo gay that on their back is feen St. George's high achievements does declare, On which thilk wight that has y gazing been, Kens the forth-coming rod; unpleating fight, I ween! Ah! luckless he, and born beneath the beam And down they drop; appears his dainty skin, Fair as the furry coat of whiteft ermilin. O ruthful scene! when from a nook obfcure Nor gentle pardon could this dame deny (If gentle pardon could with dames agree) To her fad grief that fwells in either eye, And wrings her fo, that all for pity fhe could die. No longer can fhe now her fhrieks command, And hardly the forbears, thro' awful fear, And foon a flood of tears begins to flow, And gives a loose at laft to unavailing woe. But,ah! what pen his piteous plight may trace! Or what device his loud laments explain! The form uncouth of his difguifed face? The pallid hue that dyes his looks amain? Theplenteous fhow'rthatdoeshischeekdiftain? When he in abject wife implores the dame, Ne hopeth aught of fweet reprieve to gain; Or when from high the levels well her aim, And, thro' the thatch, his cries each falling stroke proclaim. The other tribe, aghaft, with fore difmay Spenser. greet, (weet! See, Sce, to their feats they hye with merry glee, breast, Convulfions intermitting! does declare His grievouswrong,his dame's unjust beheft, His face befprent with liquid chryftal fhines ;) All, all but the, the author of his thame, If fo, I deem aright, tranfcending worth and fame. - refent. Ah me! how much I fear left pride it be! But if that pride it be which thus inspires, Beware, ye dames! with nice difcernment fee, Ye quench not too the fparks of nobler fires: Ah! better far than all the Mufe's lyres (All coward arts) is valour's gen'rous heat; The firm fix'd breaft which fit and right requires, Like Vernon's patriot foul, more justly great Than craft that pimps for ill, or flow'ry falfe deceit. Yet, nurs'd with skill, what dazzling fruits appear! Een now fagacious forefight points to fhow And there a chancellor in embryo, Tho' now he crawl along the ground fo low; And this perhaps, who cens'ring the defign, Shall Dennis be, if rigid Fates incline; 2 But now Dan Phoebus gains the middle sky, And liberty unbars her prifon-door; And like a rushing torrent out they fly, And now the grafly cirque han cover'd o'er With boilt rous revel-rout and wild uproar, A thoufand ways in wanton rings they run, Heaven fhield their fhort liv'd paitimes, I implore! For well may Freedom, erft fo dearly won, Appear to British elf more glad fome than the fun. Enjoy, poor imps! enjoy your sportive trade, And chafe gay flies,andcull the fairestflow'rs, For when my bones in grafs green fods are laid, For never may ye tafte more careless hours In knightly castles, or in ladies' bow'rs. O vain, to feek delight in earthly things! But moft in courts, where proud Ambition tow'rs; Deluded wight! who weens fair peace can fpring Beneath the pompous dome of kefar or of king. See in each fprite fome various bent appear! Some to the standing lake their courses bend, With pebbles imooth, at duck and drake to play; Thilk to the huxter's fav'ry cottage tend, Inpaftykings and queens th'allotted mite to pend. Here, as each feafon yields a different store, Each feafon's ftores in order ranged been; Apples with cabbage-net y-cover'd o'er, Gallingfullfore th'unmoniedwight,are feen; And gooleb'rie, clad in liv'ry red or green: And here of lovely dye the Cath'rine pear; Fine pear! as lovely for thy juice I ween; O may no wight e'er pennylefs come there, Left, fmit with ardent love, he pine with hopeleis care! See cherries here, ere cherries yet abound, With thread fo white in tempting posies tied, Scatt'ring like blooming maid their glances round, With pamper'd look draw little eyes afide, And must be bought, tho' penury betide; The plum all azure, and the nut all brown; And here each seafon do those cakes abide, Whofe honour'd names th' inventive city own, Rend'ring thro' Britain's ifle Salopia's* praises known. Admir'd Salopia! that with venial pride Eyesherbrightformin Severn'sambientwave, Fam'd for her loyal cares in perils tried; Herdaughterslovely,andherftriplingsbrave: Amidst the reft, may flow'rs adorn his grave Whofe art didfirst these dulcet cates difplay! A motive fair to Learning's imps he gave, Who cheerlefs o'er her darkling region stray, Till Reason's morn arife, and light them on their way. $98. Oriental Eclogues. By Mr. COLLINS. ECLOGUE I. Selim; or the Shepherd's Moral. Scene, a Valley, near Bagdat.-Time, the Morning. Perfian maids, attend your lays, Loft to our fields, for fo the fates ordain, The dear deferters fhall return again. Come thou, whofe thoughts as limpid fprings ' are clear; To lead the train, fweet Modefty, appear: Here make thy court amidst our rural scene, Andthepherdgirlsfhallownthee for their queen, With thee be Chastity, of all afraid, Y. And hear how thepherds pass their golden Diftrutting all, a wife fufpicious maid; 'days. Not all are bleft, whom Fortune's hand sustains With wealth in courts, nor all that haunt the 'plains: Well may your hearts believe the truths I tell; 'Tis virtue makes the blifs, where'er we dwell.' Thus Selim fung, by facred Truth infpir'd; Nor praife but fuch as Truth beftow'd, defir'd: Wife in himfelf, his meaning fongs convey'd Informing morals to the fhepherd maid; Or taught the fwains that fureft blifs to find, What groves nor streams beitow,a virtuous mind. When fweet and blushing, like a virgin bride, The radiant morn refum'd her orient pride; When wanton gales along the vallies play, Breathe on eachйlow'r,and bear their fweetsaway; By Tygris' wandering waves he fat, and fung, This ufeful leffon for the fair and young: Ye Perfian dames,' he said,' to you belong (Well may they please) the morals of my fong: No fairer maids, I truft, than you are found, Grac'd with foft arts,the peopled world around! The morn that lights you to your loves fupplies Each gentler ray, delicious to your eyes; Foryou thofeflow'rs her fragrant hands beftow. And yours the love that kings delight to know. Yet think not thefe, all beauteous as they are, The best kindbleffings Heaven can grant thefair: • Who truft alone in beauty's feeble ray, Boaft but the worth Balfora's pearls difplay! Draw from the deep, weown the furface bright: • But, dark within, they drink no luftrous light. Such are the maids, and fuch the charms they By fenfe unaided, or to virtue loft. [boaft, • Self-flatt'ring sex! your hearts believe in vain That Love fhall blind, when once he fires the Or hope a lover by your faults to win, [fwain; As fpots on ermin beautify the skin: Who feeks fecure to rule, be firft her care • Each softer virtue that adorns the fair; • Each tender paffion man delights to find The lord perfection of a female mind! * The Gulf of that name, 'But man the moft-not more the mountain doe Thus fung the fwain; and ancient legends say. ECLOGUE 11. Haffan; or the Camel-Driver. Scene, the Desert.-Time, Mid-day. IN filent horror, o'er the boundless waste, The driver Haffan with his camels pafs'd: One crufe of water on his back he bore, And his light fcrip contain'd a scanty store; A fan of painted feathers in his hand, To guard his fhaded face from fcorching fand. The fultry fun had gain'd the middle sky, And not a tree, and not an herb, was nigh: The beafts with pain their dufty way pursue, Shrill roar'd the winds, and dreary was the view, With defperate forrow wild, th' affrighted man Thrice figh'd, thrice struck his breaft, and thus began ; Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my Here, where no springs in murmurs break away, "Farewel the youth, whom fighs couldnot detain, Curft be the gold and filver which perfuade Sad was the hour, and lucklefs was the day, • When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my 'way! O ceafe, my fears!—all frantic as I go, When thought creates unnumber'd fcenes of 'woe. • What if the lion in his rage I meet! Ort in the duft I view his printed feet: And, fearful! oft, when day's declining light Yields her pale empire to the mourner Night, By hunger rous'd,he fcours the groaning plain, • Gaunt wolves and fullen tigers in his train; • Before them Death, with fhrieks, directs their way! "Fills the wild yell, and leads them to their prey. Sad was the hour, and lucklefs was the day, When firit from Schiraz' walls I bent my • way! At that dead hour the filent afp fhall creep, If aught of reft I find upon my fleep: • Or some swoln serpent twist his fcales around, And wake to anguish with a burning wound. Thrice happy they, the wife,contented poor: • From luft of wealth, and dread of death fecure! They tempt no deferts,and no griefs they find; "Peace rules the day, where reafon rules themind. Sad was the hour, and lucklefs was the day, When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way! O hapless youth! for the thy love hath won, • The tender Zara, will be most undone! Big fwell'd my heart, and own'd the pow'rful 'maid, When fait the dropp'd her tears, and thus 'fhe faid:" "me!" O let me fafely to the Fair return, ECLOGUE III. Abra; or, the Georgian Sultana. Scenc, a Forest.-Time, the Evening. IN Georgia's land,where Teflis'tow'rsarefeen Of Abra firit began the tender strain, Great Abbas chanc'd that fated morn to stray, And ev'ry Georgian maid like Abralov'd !' And every Georgian maid like Abra lov`d`. That there flowers are found in very great abundance in some of the provinces of Persia, sto the Modern History of the ingenious Mr. Salmon. Kk And |