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And trembles, left the tottering wall
Should on her fleeping infants fall.
Now let us louder ftrike the lyre,
For my heart glows with martial fire;
I feel, I feel, with fudden heat,
My big tumultuous bofom beat;
The trumpet's clangors pierce my ear,
A thousand widows' fhrieks I hear:
Give me another horse, I cry,
Lo! the bafe Gallic fquadrons fly;
Whence is this rage ?----what fpirit, fay,
To battle hurries me away?

"Tis FANCY, in her fiery car,
Tranfports me to the thickest war ;
There whirls me o'er the hills of flain,
Where tumult and deftruction reign;
Where mad with pain, the wounded steed
Tramples the dying and the dead;
Where giant Terror stalks around,
With fullen joy furveys the ground,
And pointing to th' enfanguin'd field,
Shakes his dreadful Gorgon-fhield.
O guide me from this horrid scene
To high-archt walks, and alleys green,
Which lovely Laura feeks, to fhun
The fervors of the mid-day fun.
of abfence, O remove,

The pangs

For thou can'ft place me near my love;

Can't fold in vifionary blifs,

And let me think I fteal a kiss;
While her ruby lips difpenfe
Luscious nectar's quinteffence.

When young-ey'd Spring profufely throws
From her green lap the pink and rofe;
When the foft turtle of the dale
To Summer tells her tender tale,
When Autumn cooling caverns feeks,
And ftains with wine his jolly cheeks,
When Winter, like poor pilgrim old,
Shakes his filver beard with cold;
At every feafon, let my ear
Thy folemn whispers, FANCY, hear.
O warm enthusiastic maid,
Without thy powerful, vital aid,
That breaths an energy divine,
That gives a foul to every line,
Ne'er may I ftrive with lips profane,
To utter an unhallow'd strain

;

Nor dare to touch the facred ftring,

Save, when with smiles thou bid'st me fing.
O hear our prayer, O hither come
From thy lamented Shakespear's tomb,
On which thou lov'ft to fit at eve,
Mufing o'er thy darling's grave.
O queen of numbers, once again
Animate fome chofen fwain,

Who fill'd with unexhaufted fire,
May boldly fmite the founding lyre,
Who with fome new, unequall'd fong,
May rife above the rhyming throng.
O'er all our lift'ning paffions reign,
O'erwhelm our fouls with joy and pain:
With terror shake, and pity move,
Rouze with revenge, or melt with love.
O deign t' attend his evening walk,
With him in groves and grottos talk ;
'Teach him to fcorn, with frigid art,
Feebly to touch th' unraptur'd heart;
Like light'ning, let his mighty verse
The bofom's inmost foldings pierce ;
With native beauties win applause,
Beyond cold critic's studied laws :
O let each Mufe's fame encrease,
O bid Britannia rival Greece!

O DE

ΤΟ

EVEN IN G.

BY THE SAME.

H

I.

AIL meek-ey'd Maiden, clad in fober grey,
Whofe foft approach the weary wood-man
loves ;

As homeward bent to kifs his prattling babes,
Jocund he whiftles thro' the twilight groves.

II.

When Phebus finks behind the gilded hills,
You lightly o'er the mifty meadows walk;
The drooping daifies bathe in dulcet dews,
And nurse the nodding violet's flender stalk.
III.

The panting Dryads, that in day's fierce heat
To inmost bow'rs, and cooling caverns ran;
Return to trip in wanton ev'ning dance,
Old Sylvan too returns, and laughing Pan.

IV.

To the deep wood the clamorous rooks repair,
Light fkims the swallow o'er the watry scene;
And from the sheep-cote, and fresh furrow'd-field,
Stout ploughmen meet, to wrestle on the Green.
V.

The fwain, that artless fings on yonder rock,
His fupping sheep, and lengthening shadow spies;
Pleas'd with the cool the calm refreshful hour,
And with hoarfe humming of unnumber'd flies.
VI.

Now every Paffion fleeps: defponding Love,
And pining Envy, ever-restless Pride;
An holy Calm creeps o'er my peaceful foul,
Anger, and mad Ambition's storms fubfide.

VII.

O modeft EVENING! oft let me appear
A wand'ring votary in thy penfive train;
Listening to every wildly-warbling note,
That fills with farewel fweet thy dark'ning plain.

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