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,
While partial Fame doth with her blafts adorn
Such deeds alone as pride and pomp disguise;
Deeds of ill fort, and mischievous emprize:
Lend me thy clarion, Goddess! let me try
To found the praise of merit ere it dies;

Such as I oft have chanced to espy,
Loft in the dreary shades of dull obscurity.
In ev'ry village, mark'd with little fpire, [fame,
Embower'd in trees, and hardly known to
There dwells, in lowly fhade and mean attire,
A matron old, whom we School-mistress

name;

Who boasts unruly brats with birch to tame:
They, grieven fore, in piteous durance pent,
Aw'd by the pow'r of this relentless dame,

And oft-times, on vagaries idly bent, [fhent.
For unkempt hair, or task unconn'd, are forely
And all in fight doth rife a birchin tree,

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
May no bold Briton's riper age e'er taste!

Ne fuperftition clog his dance of joy,
Ne vition empty, vain, his native blifs deftroy!
Near to this dome is found a patch fo green,

On which the tribe their gambols do display;
And at the door impris'ning board is feen,

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,
Andfuryuncontroul'd,andchaftifementunkind.
Few but have kenn'd, in femblance meet pour-
tray'd,

The childish faces of old ol's train,
Libs, Notus, Aufter*: thefe in frowns array'd.
How then would fare on earth,orfky,ormain,
Were the ftern God to give his flaves the rein?
And were not she rebellious breasts to quell,
And were not the her ftatutes to maintain,

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;
A ruffet kirtle fenc'd the nipping air;
'Twas fimple ruffet, but it was her own,

'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

Spenser.

Sce, to their feats they hye with merry glee,
And in befeemly order fitten there,
All but the wight of bum y-galled; he
Abhorreth bench, and stool, and form, and
chair
[hair);
(This hand in mouth y-fixed, that rends his
And eke with fnubs profound, and heaving

breast,

Convulfions intermitting! does declare

His grievouswrong,his dame's unjust beheft,
And scornsheroffer'dlove,andfhunstobecarefs'd.

His face befprent with liquid chryftal fhines ;)
H's blooming face,thatfeems a purpleflow'r,
Which low to earth his drooping head decines,
Ali fmear'd and fullied by a vernal fhow'r.
Oh the hard bofoms of defpotic pow'r!

All, all but the, the author of his thame,
All, all but the, regret this mournful hour:
Yet hence the youth, and hence the flow'r
fhall claim,

If fo, I deem aright, tranfcending worth and fame.
Behind fome door in melancholy thought,
Mindlets of food, he, dreary caitin! pines;
Ne for his fellows joyaunce careth ought,
But to the wind all merriment refigns,
And deems it fhame if he to peace inclines;
And many a fullen look askaunce is fent,
Which for his dame's annoyance he defigns ;|
And ftill the more to pleasure him he's bent,
The more doth he, perverfe, her 'haviour pat

- 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
A Fttle bench of heedlefs bithops here,

And there a chancellor in embryo,
Or bard fublime, if bard may e'er be fo;
As Milton, Shakespeare, names that ne'er
fhall die!

Tho' now he crawl along the ground fo low;
Nor weeting how the mufe fhould foar on
high,
[fy.
Witheth, poor starv'ling elf! his paper kite may

And this perhaps, who cens'ring the defign,
Low lays the house which that of cards
doth build,

Shall Dennis be, if rigid Fates incline;
And many an epic to his rage fhall yield,

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!
Thefe rudely carol most incondite lay;
Thofelaunt ring on the green, with jocund leer,
Salute the ftranger paffing on his way:
Some builden fragile tenements of clay;

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.

Y. And hear how thepherds pass their golden Diftrutting all, a wife fufpicious maid;

'But man the moft-not more the mountain doe
Holds the fwift falcon for her deadly foe.
Cold is her breaft,like flow'rs that drink the dew;
A filken veil conceals her from the view.
No wild defires amidst thy train be known,
But Faith, whofe heart is fixed on one alone:
Defponding Meeknefs, with her down-caft eyes,
And friendly Pity, full of tender fighs;
And Love the iaft. By thefeyour hearts approve,
Thefe are the virtues that muft lead to love."

Thus fung the fwain; and ancient legends say.
The maids of Bagdat verified the lay:
Dear to the plains, the Virtues came along;
The fhepherds lov'd, and Selim blefs'd his fong.

Here, where no springs in murmurs break away, "Farewel the youth, whom fighs couldnot detain,
Or mofs-crown'd fountains mitigate the day," Whom Zara's breaking heart implor'd in vain;
In vain ye hope the green delights to know," Yet as thou go'lt, may ev'ry blaft arife
Which plains more bleft, or verdant vales" Weak and unfelt as thefe rejected fighs!
'beltow:
"Safe o'er the wild, no perils mayst thou see;
*Here rocks alone, and tastelefs fands are found," No griefs endure; nor weep, falfe youth, like
And faint and ficklywinds foreverhowl around.
Sad was the hour, and lucklefs was the day,
When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my
⚫ way!

Curft be the gold and filver which perfuade
"Weak men to follow far-fatiguing trade!
The lily Peace outfhines the filver store,
And life is dearer than the golden ore:
Yet money tempts us o'er the desert brown,
To ev'ry distant mart and wealthy town.
• Full oft we tempt the land, and oft the sea;
And are we only yet repaid by thee?
Ah! why this ruin fo attractive made?
Or why, fond man, fo easily betray'd?
Why heed we not, while mad we hafte along,
The gentle voice of Peace, or Pleafure's fong?
• Or wherefore think the flow'ry mountain's fide,
The fountain's murmurs,and the valley'spride;
Why think we these lefs pleafing to behold
Than dreary deferts, if they lead to gold?

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,
Say,with a kifs, fhe must not, mai not moúra!
'Olet me teach my heart to lofe its fears,
Recall'd by Wisdom's voice, and Zara's tears!"
Hefaid; and call'd on heaven to bless the day
When back to Schiraz' wails he bent his way.

ECLOGUE III.

Abra; or, the Georgian Sultana.

Scenc, a Forest.-Time, the Evening.

IN Georgia's land,where Teflis'tow'rsarefeen
In diftant view along the level green.
While evening dews enrich the glittring glade.
And the tall forefts caft a longer fhade;
What time 'tis fweet o'er fields of rice to stray,
Or fcent the breathing maize at fetting day;
Amidst the maids of Zagen's peaceful grove
Emyra fung the pleafing cares of love.

Of Abra firit began the tender strain,
Who led her youth with flocks upon the plain;
At morn the came, thofe willing flocks to lead,
Where lilies rear them in the wat`ry mead:
From early dawn the live-long hours fhe told,
Till late at filent eve the penn'd the fold.
Deep in the grove, beneath the fecret thade,
A various wreath of od reus flowers the made.
Gaymotley 'dpinks and fweet jonquils hechofe,*
The violet blue, that on the mols-bank grows;
All fweet to fenfe, the flaunting role was there:
The finish'd chaplet well adorn'd her hair.

Great Abbas chanc'd that fated morn to stray,
By love conducted from the chace away:
Among the vocal vales he heard her fong,
And fought the vales and echoing groves among.
At length he found, and woo'd the rural maid;
She knew the monarch, and with fear obey'd.
'Be ev'ry youth like royal Abbas mov'd,

And ev'ry Georgian maid like Abralov'd !'
The royal lover bore her from the plain;
Yet ftill her crook and bleating flock remain:
Oft as fhe went the backward turn'd her view,
And bade that crook and bleating flock adieu.
Fair, happy maid! to other fccnes remove;
To richer fcenes of golden pow'r and love!
Go, leave the fimple pipe, and thepherd's strain;
With love delight thee, and with Abbas reign.
Be ev'ry youth like royal Abbas mov`d,'

And every Georgian maid like Abra lov`d`.
Yet, midft the blaze of courts, fhe fix'd herlove
On the cool fountain, or the thady grove;
Still, with the fhepherd's innocence, her mind
To the sweet vale and flow'ry mead inclin`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