To charm with your own harmony
The ear of Him who sits on high.
Grant me, propitious heav'nly Pow'r,
Whose love benign we feel each hour,
An equal lot on Earth to share,
Nor rich, nor poor, my humble pray'r,
Lest I forget, exalted proud,

The hand supreme that gave the good;
Lest want o'er virtue should prevail,
And I put forth my haud and steal;
But if thy sovereign will shall grant
The wealth I neither ask nor want,
May I the widow's need supply,
And wipe the tear from Sorrow's eye;
May the weary wanderer's feet
From me a blest reception meet!
But if contempt and low estate
Be the assignment of my fate,
O! may no hope of gain entice

2

To tread the green broad path of Vice. And bounteous, O! vouchsafe to clear The errours of a mind sincere. Illumine thou my searching mind, Groping after truth, and blind. With stores of science be it fraught That bards have dream'd, or sages taught; And chief the heav'n-born strain impart, A Muse according to thy heart; That rapt in sacred ecstasy, I may sing and sing of thee; Mankind instructing in thy laws, Blest poet in fair Virtue's cause, Her former merit to restore, And make mankind again adore, As when conversant with the great, She fixt in palaces her seat. Before her all-revealing ray, Each sordid passion should decay: Ambition shuns the dreaded dame, And pales his ineffectual flame; Wealth sighs her triumphs to behold, And offers all his sums of gold; She in her chariot seen to ride 3, A noble train attend her side: A cherub first, in prime of years, The champion Fortitude appears; Next Temperance, sober mistress, seen With look compos'd and cheerful mien; Calm Patience, still victorious found, With never-fading glories crown'd; Firm Justice last the balance rears, The good man's praise, the bad man's fears; While chief in beauty as in place She charms with dear Monimia's grace. Monimia still! here once again! O! fatal name; O dubious strain ! Say, heav'n-born Virtue, pow'r divine, Are all these various movements thine? Was it thy triumphs sole inspir'd My soul, to holy transports fir'd? Or say, do springs less sacred move? Ah! much I fear, it's human love. Alas! the noble strife is o'er, The blissful visions charm no more; Far off the glorious rapture flown, Monimia rages here alone.

In vain, Love's fugitive, I try
From the commanding pow'r to fly,
Though Grace was dawning on my soul,
Possest by Heav'n sincere and whole,
Yet still in Fancy's painted cells
The soul-inflaming image dwells.
Why didst thou, cruel Love, again
Thus drag me back, to earth and pain?
Well hop'd I, Love, thou would'st retire
Before the blest Jessean lyre.
Devotion's harp would charm to rest
The evil spirit in my breast;
But the deaf adder fell disdains,
Unlistening to the chanter's strains.
Contemplation, baffled maid,
Remains there yet no other aid?
Helpless and weary must thou yield
To Love supreme in every field?
Let Melancholy last engage,
Reverend hoary-mantled sage.
Sure, at his sable flag's display
Love's idle troop will flit away:
And bring with him his due compeer,
Silence, sad, forlorn, and drear.

Haste thee, Silence, haste and go,
To search the gloomy world below.
My trembling steps, O Sybil! lead
Through the dominions of the dead:
Where Care, enjoying soft repose,
Lays down the burden of his woes;
Where meritorious Want, no more
Shivering begs at Grandeur's door;
Unconscious Grandeur, seal'd his eyes,
On the mouldering purple lies.

In the dim and dreary round,
Speech in eternal chains lies bound;
And see a tomb, it's gates display'd,
Expands an everlasting shade.
O ye inhabitants, that dwell
Each forgotten in your cell,
O say, for whom of human race
Has fate decreed this hiding place?

And hark! methinks a spirit calls,
Low winds the whisper round the walls,
A voice, the sluggish air that breaks,
Solemn amid the silence speaks.
"Mistaken man, thou seek'st to know
What known will but afflict with woe;
There thy Monimia shall abide,
With the pale bridegroom rest a bride,
The wan assistants there shall lay,
In weeds of death, her beauteous clay."
O words of woe! what do I hear?
What sounds invade a lover's ear?
Must then thy charms, my anxious care,
The fate of vulgar beauty share?
Good Heav'n retard (for thine the pow'r)
The wheels of time, that roll the hour!-

Yet ah! why swells my breast with fears?
Why start the interdicted tears?
Love, dost thou tempt again? Depart,
Thou devil, cast out from my heart.
Sad I forsook the feast, the ball,
The sunny bow'r and lofty hall,
And sought the dungeon of despair;
Yet thou overtak'st me there.
How little dream'd I thee to find
In this lone state of human kind?
Nor melancholy can prevail,
The direful deed, nor dismal tale:

Hop'd I for these thou wouldst remove?
How near akin is Grief to Love!
Then no more I strive to shun
Love's chains: O Heav'n! thy will be done.
The best physician here I find,
To cure a sore diseased mind,
For soon this venerable gloom
Will yield a weary sufferer room;
No more a slave to Love decreed,
At ease and free among the dead.
Come then, ye tears, ne'er cease to flow,
In full satiety of woe:

Though now the maid my heart alarms,
Severe and mighty in her charms,
Doom'd to obey, in bondage prest,
The tyrant Love's commands unblest;
Pass but some fleeting moments o'er,
This rebel heart shall beat no more;
Then from my dark and closing eye
The form belov'd shall ever fly.
The tyranny of Love shall cease,
Both laid down to sleep in peace;
To share alike our mortal lot,
Her beauties and my cares forgot.

TO A YOUNG LADY
ON HER SINGING.

SUCH, skill'd the tender verse to frame,
And softly strike the golden lyre;
A stranger to the softening flame,
And new to every mild desire;

Sweets that crown the budding year,
Pour'd from the zephyr's tepid wing,
Saw Sappho in the grove appear,
The rival of the vocal spring.

To try the heart-subduing strains,
Anon the vernal scenes impel
O'er lofty rocks and rilly plains

Soft warbled from th' Eolian shell.

Or such as in the bright abodes,

The youngest Muse with glories crown'd, To whom the sire of men and gods

Gave all th' enchanting pow'r of sound.

As at the banquet of the sky,

Freed from the giant's impious arms, She drew each heavenly ear and eye, With beauty mingling music's charms.

Had such a voice sure to prevail,

Soft warbled from the syren strand, What wonder, if each amorous sail Spontaneous sought the tuneful land?

Ev'n thou who cautious wing'st thy way, Had given thy tedious wanderings o'er; By Julia's all-persuading lay

Fix'd ever to the pleasing shore.

A face so sweet had sure prevail'd

With Wisdom's self to hear the voice, Whilst both the yielding heart assail'd, Here Wisdom might have fix'd his choice. VOL. XV.

ON SEEING LADY MARY MONTGOMERY SIT TO HER PICTURE.

IN IMITATION OF SPENSER'S STYLE.

WHEN Lindsay drew Montgomery, heavenly maid! And gaz'd with wonder on that angel face, Pleas'd I sat by, and joyfully survey'd

The daring pencil image every grace.

When as the youth, each feature o'er and o'er
Careful retouch'd with strict observant view;
Eftsoons I saw how charms unseen before
Swell'd to the sight, and with the picture grew.

With milder glances now he arms her eyes, The red now triumphs to a brighter rose; Now heaves her bosom to a softer rise,

And fairer on her cheek the lily blows.

Last glow'd the blush, that pure of female wile I whilom knew, when so my stars decreed My pipe she deign'd to laud in pleasing smile, All undeserving I such worthy meed.

The whiles I gaz'd, ah! felice Art, thought I,
Ah! felice youth that doen it possess;
Couth to de peint the fair so verily,

True to each charm, and faithful to each grace.

Sythence she cannot emulate her skill,

Ne envy will the Muse her sister's praise, Then for the deed, O let her place the will, And to the glowing colours join her layes.

Yet algates would the Nine, that high on hill Parnasse, sweet imps of Jove, with Jove reside, Give me to rein the fiery steed at will,

And with kind hand thy lucky pencil guide:

Then, certes, mought we fate misprise, of praise
Secure, if the dear maid in beauty's bloom
Survive, or in thy colours, or my lays,
Joy of this age, and joy of each to come.

TO LADY MARY MONTGOMERY. SAY, thou with endless beauty crown'd, Of all the youth that sigh around Thy worshippers, and anxious wait From thy bright eyes their future fate; Say, whom do most these eyes approve? Whom does Montgomery choose to love?

Not him, who strives to build a name From ruins of another's fame: Who proud in self-conceit throws down His neighbour's wit, to raise his own. Should the vain man expect success, The fool of compliment and dress? Thy eyes undazzled can behold The gaudy nothing deckt in gold. Thy wise discernment soon descries Where folly lurks in wit's disguise; Trac'd through each shape in which 'tis seen, Through the grave look, the solemn mien; The proud man's front, the vain man's walk, The fopling's dress, the coxcomb's talk. A large estate, and little sense,

To charms like thine have no pretence.

RR

Shalt thou, O insolent! prevail?
Heav'n never meant its goods for sale:
Beauty, the pearl of price, is giv'n,
Not bought, 'tis the free grace of Heav'n.
The happy youth with arts refin'd,
Simple of heart, of steadfast mind:
Whom thirst of gain could never draw
To trespass friendship's sacred law:
Whose soul the charms of sense inspire;
Who loves, where reason bids admire:
Cautious to shun, with wise disdain,
The proud, the airy, and the vain:
Him whom these virtues shall adorn,
Thou, fair Montgomery, wilt not scorn:
Of all the gifts of Heav'n possest,
To him thou yield'st thy willing breast;
For him the blush, with modest grace,
Glows rosy, o'er thy blooming face:
For him thy panting bosom swells,
And on thy lips such sweetness dwells.
Crown'd with success, the happy boy
Shall revel in excess of joy:
While in thy presence, Heav'n appears
In sweets laid up for many years.
The beau and witling then shall fly,
The fop in secret corner sigh;
Condemn'd to cry in love's despair,
"Ah! why so wise who was so fair?"
Did thy example, beauteous maid,
The rest of womankind persuade;
Nor injur'd merit would complain,
That it may love, and love in vain :-
Nor flattery false, and impudence,
Usurp the room of bashful sense;
No more at midnight ball appear,
To gain on beauty's list'ning ear.
Beauty would hear the vows of truth;
Nor love would speak with folly's mouth.

Yet some there are, the better few,
Wise thy example to pursue;
Who rich in store of native charms,
Employ no artificial arms.

Such heav'nly Charlotte 1, form divine!
Love's universal kingdom's thine,
Anointed queen! all unconfin'd,
Thine is the homage of mankind:
Thy subjects, willing to obey,
Bless thy mild rule and gentle sway;
With loyal mind each zealous pays
His tribute duteous to thy praise.
Yet nought to greatness dost thou owe;
Thy merit from thyself does flow;
Alike our wonder and our theme,
In beauty as in place supremne.
Such thy fair sister, fram'd to please,
Of aspect gay, and graceful ease.
Pure flows her wit and unrestrain'd;
By envy and by hate unstain'd;
Not as the rushing torre..i pours,
Increas'd by snows, and wintry show'rs;
Involving in its furious sway

The labouring hinds, a helpless prey;
Now wide o'erspreads the wat❜ry scene,
And now decreas'd, no more is seen:
But as a constant river leads

Its winding stream through purple meads;
That through the blushing landscape roll'd,
Reflects the bordering flowers in gold;

1 Lady Charlotte Hamilton.

And, borne along with gentle force,
Distributes wealth through all its course;
Nor does the faithful spring deny
The alimental just supply.

Thou Douglas 2 too, in whom combine
A spirit and a noble line;
Engaging looks, that mild inspire
Fond delight and young desire;
All-winning sweetness, void of pride,
Thou hast no faults for art to hide.
Maria such, whose opening bloom
Foreshows the pregnant fruits to come.
O blest! for whom the Seasons' flight
Ripens that harvest of delight;
To whom the Autumn shall resign,
To press the rich luxuriant vine.
Unwounded who can thee espy,
Maid of the black and piercing eye?
Too rashly bold, we take the field
Against thy shafts with Wisdom's shield;
Pierc'd helpless in our guarded side,
We fall the victims of our pride.

Nor Erskine less the song demands,
Not least in beauty's blooming bands.
Erskine, peculiar care of Heav'n,
To whom the pow'r of sound is giv'n;
Artist divine! to her belong

The heav'nly lay, and magic song:
How do we gaze with vast delight
Her fingers' swift harmonious flight,
When o'er th' obedient keys they fly,
To waken sleeping harmony?
Whene'er she speaks, the joy of all,
Soft the silver accents fall:
Whene'er she looks, in still amaze
The eyes of all enamour'd gaze:
Each word steals gently on the ear;
'Tis Heav'n to see, 'tis Heav'n to hear.
In everlasting blushes seen,
Such Pringle shines of sprightly mien:
To her the pow'r of love imparts,
Rich gift! the soft successful arts
That best the lovers' fires provoke,
The lively step, the mirthful joke,
The speaking glance, the amorous wile,
The sportful laugh, the winning smile;
Her soul, awakening every grace,

Is all abroad upon her face;
In bloom of youth still to survive,
All charms are there, and all alive.

Fair is the lily, sweet the rose,
That in thy cheek, O Drummond ! glows;
Pure is the snow's unsullied white
That clothes thy bosom's swelling height.
Majestic looks her soul express,'
That awe us from desir'd access;
Till sweetness soon rebukes the fear,
And bids the trembling youth draw near, "
See, how sublime she does advance,
And seems already in the dance;
Exalted how she moves along,
Ten thousand thousand graces strong!
Such Marchmont's daughter, unreprov'd,
The maid by men of sense belov'd;
Who knows with modesty to scorn
The titles that may fools adorn:
She claims no merit from her blood,
Her greatest honour to be good:

* Lady Jane Douglas.

Heedless of pomp, with open heart
Well has she chose the better part.
Such Hamilla's looks divine,

Earth's wonder, Tinnegham, and thine!
Her soul all tenderness and love,
Gentle as the harmless dove:
Who artless, charms without design,
She! of the modest look benign.

Eliza young in beauty bright,
Though new to every soft delight,
Yet soon her conquests shall extend,
Soon shall the sprightly maid ascend
The rival of each kindred name,
And triumph to her mother's fame.
Full in the pleasing list appears
Robertoun, in prime of years;
With skill she does her smiles bestow,
For Pallas bends her Cupid's bow:
Wisely she shuns to entertain
The designing, and the vain;
To these 'tis all forbidden ground,
Prudence, a cherub, guards her round,
With flaming sword fools to expel;
In paradise fools must not dwell.

Strike again the golden lyre,
Let Hume the notes of joy inspire.
O lovely Hume! repeat again,
My lyre, the ever-pleasing strain.
Dear to the Muse, the Muse approves
Each charm, the Muse the virgin loves:
The Muse preserves in lasting lays
The records of soft beauty's praise;
In vain would triumph beauty's eye,
Unsung, these triumphs soon would die;
Fate overcomes the fair and strong,
But has no pow'r o'er sacred song;
Verse the dying name can save,
And make it live beyond the grave.
Thus Hume shall unborn hearts engage,
Her smile shall warm another age;
Her race of mortal glory past,
Th' immortal fame shall ever last;
Last shall the look that won my heart,
The pleasing look sincere of art.
O! pow'rful of persuasive face,
Adorn'd and perfected in grace;
What joys await, joys in excess,

The youth whom thou decree'st to bless;
Ordain'd thy yielding breast to move,
Thy breast yet innocent of love!

But who is she, the general gaze
Of sighing crowds, the world's amaze,
Who looks forth as the blushing morn
On mountaias of the east new born?
Is it not Cochrane fair? Tis she,
The youngest grace of graces three.
The eldest fell to death a prey,
Ah! snatch'd in early flower away:
The second, manifold of charms,
Blesses a happy husband's arms;
The third a blooming form remains;
O'er all the blameless victor reigns:
Where'er she gracious deigns to move,
The public praise, the public love.

Superior these shall still remain,
The lover's wish, the poet's strain;
Their beauties shall all hearts engage,
Victorious over spite and age:

Like thee, Montgomery, shall they shine, And charm the world with arts like thine.

TO A LADY,

ON HER TAKING SOMETHING ILL THE AUTHOR SAID.

WHY hangs that cloud upon thy brow?

That beauteous Heav'n, ere-while serene?
Whence do these storms and tempests blow,
Or what this gust of passion mean?
And must then mankind lose that light
Which in thine eyes was wont to shine,
And lie obscur'd in endless night,

For each poor silly speech of mine?

Dear child, how could I wrong thy name?
Thy form so fair and faultless stands,
That could ill tongues abuse thy fame,
Thy beauty could make large amends:
Or if I durst profanely try

Thy beauty's powerful charms t' upbraid,
Thy virtue well might give the lie,
Nor call thy beauty to its aid.

For Venus, every heart t' ensnare,
With all her charms has deck'd thy face,
And Pallas, with unusual care,

Bids wisdom heighten every grace.
Who can the double pain endure?
Or who must not resign the field
To thee, celestial maid, secure

With Cupid's bow and Pallas' shield?
If then to thee such pow'r is given,

Let not a wretch in torment live,
But smile, and learn to copy Heav'n;
Since we must sin ere it forgive.
Yet pitying Heaven not only does
Forgive th' offender, and th' offence,
But ev'n itself appeas'd bestows,
As the reward of penitence.

UPON HEARING HIS PICTURE WAS IN
A LADY'S BREAST.

YE gods! was Strephon's picture blest
With the fair Heaven of Chloe's breast?
Move softer, thou fond fluttering heart!
Oh gently throb,-too fierce thou art.
Tell me, thou brightest of thy kind,
For Strephon was the bliss design'd?
For Strephon's sake, dear charming maid,
Didst thou prefer his wandering shade?

And thou, blest shade! that sweetly art
Lodged so near my Chloe's heart,
For me the tender hour improve,
And softly tell how dear I love.
Ungrateful thing! it scorns to hear
Its wretched master's ardent pray'r,
Ingrossing all that beauteous Heaven,
That Chloe, lavish maid, has given.

I cannot blame thee: were I lord.

Of all the wealth those breasts afford,
I'd be a miser too, nor give

An alms to keep a god alive.

Oh smile not thus, my lovely fair,

On these cold looks, that lifeless air,
Prize him whose bosom glows with fire,
With eager love and soft desire.