But fov'reign heav'n, whofe ways are ever wife, PARAPHRASE upon a FRENCH SONG. Venge moy d'une ingrate maitreffe, KIND relief in all my pain, Jolly Bacchus! hear my prayer, Gild each gloomy thought with joy. He died a few months after the acceffion of George I. This was afterwards the well-known Philip, Duke of Wharton, whose character is admirably drawn by Mr. Pope in his Moral Essays. See epift. I. 1. 180. Jolly Is the not one of your immortal race? Dart like light'ning through the sky: The beauteous Goddess I adore, THE TOMB of SHAKSPEARE. A VIS By JOHN GILBERT COOPER, Efq; HAT time the jocund rofie-bofom'd HOURS WHAT Led forth the train of PHOEBUS and the SPRING, And ZEPHYR mild profufely scatter'd flowers The MORN unbarr'd th' ambrofial gates of light, The gurgling notes of her melodious woe: The The God of fleep myfterious vifions led my free'd foul awhile her manfion fled, To try her plumes for immortality. Through fields of air, methought, I took my flight, HESPERIAN garden, or CIMMERIAN waste. On Avon's banks I lit, whose streams appear To wind with eddies fond round SHAKSPEARE's tomb, The year's first feath'ry songsters warble near, And vi'lets breathe, and earliest roses bloom. Here FANCY fat, (her dewy fingers cold Decking with flow'rets fresh th' unfùllied fod,) Ah! what avails, fhe cry'd, a Poet's name? For For not to thefe bis genius was confin'd, And the wing'd words that waft the foul to heaven : The fiery glance of th' intellectual eye, Piercing all objects of creation's store, Which on this world's extended furface lie ; And plastic thought that still created more. O grant, with eager rapture I reply'd, Grant me, great goddess of the changeful eye, To view each Being in poetic pride, To whom thy fon gave immortality. Sweet FANCY smil'd, and wav'd her mystic rod, As vaffal fprites obey the wizard's charm. First a celeftial form2 (of azure hue Whose mantle, bound with brede ætherial, flow'd To each foft breeze its balmy breath that drew) Swift down the fun-beams of the noon-tide rode. Obedient to the necromantic fway Of an old fage to folitude refign'd, With fenny vapours he obscur'd the day, Launch'd the long lightning, and let loose the wind. a Ariel in the Tempeft. He |