ODE to OBLIVIO N.

P

I.

ARENT OF EASE! OBLIVION old,

Who lov'ft thy dwelling-place to hold, Where scepter'd Pluto keeps his dreary fway, Whose fullen pride the shiv'ring ghosts obey!

*

Thou

According to Lillæus, who beftows the Parental Function on

Oblivion.

Verba OBLIVISCENDI regunt GENITIVUM.

There is a fimilar paffage in Bufbæus,

Lib. xiii. Cap. 8.

Thou, who delightest still to dwell By some hoar and moss-grown cell, At whofe dank foot Cocytus joys to roll,

Or Styx' black streams, which even Jove controul ! Or if it fuit thy better will

To chufe the tinkling weeping rill, Hard by whose fide the feeded poppy red Heaves high in air his sweetly curling head, While, creeping in meanders flow,

Lethe's drowzy waters flow,

And hollow blafts, which never ceafe to figh, Hum to each care-ftruck mind their lulla-lulla-by! A prey no longer let me be

To that goffip, MEMORY,

Who waves her banners trim, and proudly flies
To spread abroad her bribble-brabble lies.
With Thee, OBLIVION, let me go,

For MEMORY's a friend to woe;

With thee, FORGETFULNESS, fair filent Queen,
The folemn ftole of grief is never seen.

II.

All, all is thine. Thy pow'rful fway
The throng'd poetic hosts obey.

Tho' in the van of MEM RY proud t' appear,

At thy command they darken in the rear.
What tho' the modern Tragic ftrain

For nine whole days protract thy reign,

Yet thro' the Nine, like whelps of currish kind,
Scarcely it lives, weak, impotent, and blind.
Sacred to Thee the Crambo Rhime,

The motley forms of Pantomime:

For Thee from Eunuch's throat ftill loves to flow
The foothing sadness of his warbled woe :

Each day to Thee falls Pamphlet clean :

Each month a new-born Magazine :

Hear then, O GODDESS, hear thy vot'ry's pray'r!
And, if Thou deign'ft to take one moment's care,
Attend Thy Bard! who duly pays

The tribute of his votive lays;

Whose Muse still offers at thy facred shrine;

Thy Bard, who calls THEE His, and makes Him THIne. O, sweet FORGETFULNESS, fupreme

Rule fupine o'er ev'ry theme,

O'er each sad subject, o'er each soothing strain,

Of mine, O GODDESS, stretch thine awful reign!
Nor let MEM'RY fteal one note,

Which this rude hand to Thee hath wrote!

So fhalt thou fave me from the Poet's fhame, it Tho' on the letter'd Rubric DODSLEY poft my Name.

O come! with opiate poppies crown'd,
Shedding flumbers soft around!

O come! FAT GODDESS, drunk with Laureat's
Sack!

See, where the fits on the benumb'd Torpedo's

back!

Me, in thy dull Elyfium lapt, O blefs

With thy calm Forgetfulness!

And

And gently lull my fenfes all the while
With placid poems in the finking ftile!
Whether the Herring-Poet fing,

Great Laureat of the Fifhes' King,

Or Lycophron prophetic rave his fill,
Wrapt in the darker ftrains of Johnny — ;
Or, if He fing, whofe verfe affords.
A bevy of the choiceft words,

Who meets his Lady Muse by mofs-grown cell,
Adorn'd with epithet and tinkling bell :

Thefe, GODDESS, let me ftill forget,

With all the dearth of Modern Wit!

So may'st Thou gently o'er my youthful breast Spread, with thy welcome hand, OBLIVION's friendly veft.