and delicate variations, which he might otherwise have paffed over; and I would not anticipate the pleasure he will receive from his own discoveries of this kind. An ample ftore of beauties lies open for his inspection, and he will probably find reafon to flatter himself, that in this fpecies of poetry, as well as in every other, the English follow the claffic antients with a bold and vigorous ftep, and ftrain hard for the palm of victory.

PAS

PASSIONATE

AND DESCRIPTIVE

SON G S.

LEST as th' immortal Gods is he,*

B The youth that fondly fits by thee;

And fees, and hears thee, all the while,
Softly fpeak, and fweetly smile.

'Twas this depriv'd my foul of reft,
And rais'd fuch tumults in my breast;

For while I gaz'd, in transport toft,

My breath was gone, my voice was lost.

My

*THOUGH it may feem irregular to begin a collection of English fongs with an ode of Sappho, yet I am tempted to do it on account of the excellence of the tranflation, which has almost the merit of an original, and that the reader may have fo nearly in his view a pattern of perfection with which he may compare the rest.

My bofom glow'd, a fubtle flame
Ran quick thro' all my vital frame;
O'er my dim eyes a darkness hung,
My ears with hollow murmurs rung.

In dewy damps my limbs were chill'd,
My blood with gentle horrors thrill'd;
My feeble pulfe forgot to play,

I fainted, funk, and died away.

PHILLIPS.

HY fatal fhafts unerring move,
I bow before thine altar, Love;

ΤΗ

I feel the foft refiftless flame
Glide swift thro' all my vital frame.

For while I gaze, my bofom glows,
My blood in tides impetuous flows;
Hope, fear, and joy alternate roll,
And floods of transport whelm my foul.

My fault'ring tongue attempts in vain
In foothing numbers to complain;

My tongue fome fecret magic ties,
My murmurs fink in broken fighs.

Condemn'd to nurse eternal care,
And ever drop the filent tear,
Unheard I mourn, unknown I figh,
Unfriended live, unpity'd die.

SMOLLETT.

A

H the fhepherd's mournful fate!

When doom'd to love, and doom'd to languish,

To bear the fcornful fair one's hate,

Nor dare difclofe his anguish.
Yet eager looks, and dying fighs,
My fecret foul discover,

While rapture trembling thro' my eyes

Reveals how much I love her.

The tender glance, the redd'ning cheek,
O'erfpread with rifing blushes,

A thoufand various ways they speak

A thousand various wishes.

For

For oh! that form fo heavenly fair,

Thofe languid eyes fo fweetly fmiling,
That artless blush, and modest air,
So artfully beguiling!

Thy every look, and every grace

So charms whene'er I view thee,
Till death o'ertake me in the chafe
Still will my hopes purfue thee:
Then when my tedious hours are past
Be this last bleffing given,

Low at thy feet to breathe my last,
And die in fight of heaven.

HAMILTON.

O, tell AMYNTA, gentle fwain,

Go

I would not die, nor dare complain;
Thy tuneful voice with numbers join,
Thy voice will more prevail than mine:
For fouls opprefs'd, and dumb with grief,
The Gods ordain'd this kind relief,
That music fhould in founds convey
What dying lovers dare not say.

H 2

A figh,