When the soft turtle of the dale
TO SUMMER tells her tender tale,
When AUTUMN cooling caverns seeks,
And stains with wine his jolly cheeks,
When WINTER, like poor pilgrim old,
Shakes his silver beard with cold,
At every season let my ear
Thy solemn whispers, Fancy, hear.
O warm, enthusiastic maid,
Without thy powerful, vital aid,
That breathes an energy divine,
That gives a soul to every line,
Ne'er may
I strive with lips profane
To utter an unhallow'd strain,
Nor dare to touch the sacred string,
Save when with smiles thou bid'st me sing.
O hear our prayer, O hither come
From thy lamented SHAKSPERE's tomb,
On which thou lov'st to sit at eve,
Musing o'er thy darling's grave;
queen of numbers, once again
Animate some chosen swain,
Who fill'd with unexhausted fire,
May boldly smite the sounding lyre,
May rise above the rhyming throng,
Who with some new unequall'd song,
O'er all our list'ning passions reign,
O'erwhelm our souls with joy and pain;
With terror shake, with pity move,
Rouse with revenge, or melt with love.
O deign t' attend his evening walk,
With him in groves and grottoes talk :
Teach him to scorn with frigid art
Feebly to touch th' unraptur'd heart;
Like lightning, let his mighty verse
The bosom's inmost foldings pierce ;
With native beauties win applause,
Beyond cold critics' studied laws:
O let each Muse's fame increase,
O bid BRITANNIA rival GREECE !
COME, gentle Power, from whom arose
Whate'er life's chequer'd scenes adorns ;
From whom the living current flows
Whence Science fills her various urns:
Sacred to thee, yon marble dome,
O Goddess, rears its awful head,
Fraught with the stores of Greece and Rome,
With gold, and glowing gems inlaid;
Where Art by thy command hath fix'd her seat,
And ev'ry Muse, and ev'ry Grace, retreat.
For erst mankind, a savage race,
As lawless robbers rang'd the woods,
And chose, when weary'd with the chase,
'Midst rocks, and caves, their dark abodes;
'Till, Friendship, thy persuasive strains,
Powerful as Orpheus' magic song,
Re-echo'd through the squalid plains
And drew the brutish herd along :
Lost in surprize thy pleasing voice they own'd, Chose softer arts, and polish'd at the sound.
Then Pity first her sacred flame
Within their frozen bosoms rais'd;
Tho' faint the spark, when Friendship came,
When Friendship wav'd her wing it blaz'd;
'Twas then first heav'd the social sigh,
The social tear began to flow;
They felt a sympathetic joy,
And learnt to melt at other's woe:
By just degrees Humanity refin'd,
And Virtue fix'd her empire in the mind.
O Goddess, when thy form appears, Revenge and Rage, and Faction, cease, The soul no fury-passion tears, But all is harmony and peace. Aghast the purple tyrant stood, With awe beheld thy glowing charms, Forgot the cursed thirst of blood, And long'd to grasp thee in his arms; Felt in his breast unusual softness rise, And, deaf before, heard Pity's moving cries.
Is there a wretch in Sorrow's shade,
Who wastes in tears life's ling'ring hours?
Is there, on whose devoted head
Her vengeful curses Atè pours?
See to their aid fair Friendship flies,
Their sorrows sympathetic feels,
With lenient hand her balm applies,
And ev'ry grief indulgent heals:
The woe-fraught fiends before her stalk away, As spectres shun the flaming eye of day.
Oh for a faithful, honest friend,
To whom I ev'ry care could trust,
Each weakness of my soul commend,
Nor fear him treach'rous, or unjust!
Drive Flatt'ry's summer-train away,
Those busy, curious, flutt'ring things,
That, insect-like, in Fortune's ray,
Bask, and expand their gaudy wings:
But, ah, when once the transient gleam is o'er, Behold the change !-They die, and are no more.
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