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At least, permit them not, with eye aflant,

[quill; To view the labours of my grey-goofe Nor yet with cold, difdainful words to chill [haunt. The ftripling wand'rer in the mufes' Pho!--this is all a flimfy, whining cant; A lame-leg'd poet's purring preface, Proving the chambers of his brain are fcant, [his face.

That he, poor foul's, afhamed to show Alias, it proves the rogue has written /Rhymes, not fit for Grub-ftreet, or [fmitten

the North-end; And that, unless by pity's power you're Low in the vault of Cloe: they'll defcend;

Or, peradventure, feiz'd by man of fpunk,

Line the rough fides of oil-cloth trunk. Now, Peter'd rather fee each printer d'd, [jail; Bookstores in flames and ftationers in Than 'gainst the critic world turn tail; Ffhamm'd, Or fear of fame-immortal he'll be When once abroad his wares and rhymes [head. are spread, And gain admittance in the public's Belles, beaux and maidens, with their

caps turn'd yellow,

Will pore, from morn to midnight, o'er his ditties

And laugh, and cry, and figh, and

call them " pretties"Sweet children of a likely, laughter. loving fellow."

And then they'll wonder where the rogue was bred,

What god, or goddess, gave him pap and caudle;

What fairy dances in his flow'ry noddle,

And who enjoys his cup-board and his bed?.

Grave juftices and fat judges, eke;
Of whom, with many nods and bows,
I speak,

Will clap their fpectacles on nofes; (As doth a good, old, purblind, dame, Whose understanding is a little lame; When the cons o'er the wond'rous

books of Mofes.)

Then fetting, eafily, in elbow-chair, Will fuck, with liquorifh chops, his love-pills down;

Then through his marv'lous odes, with marv'ling wonder, stareAnd wish to call the rhyming rogue their own..

Perhaps fome parfimoniousman of print, Who flights the purer genius of our foil,

And loves in transatlantic ftuff to toil-Will take the hint,

And with a multitude of nods and bows,

paper,

And "how d'ye do's,"Tell Peter, with new type on vellunt [crated taper. His Mufe fhall light Apollo's confeFir'd at the thought, Peter will turn around, [profound, And, with a look half fcornful, half Exclaim-dread Sir, from whence arofe this bienfeance [pence? From love of Peter? or from love of Efte, efte, procul profani! Peter wishes no man to lie. Then fit you down, Mifs Patience, while I fing [Rufe, The life and death of yonder mould'ring Which a fweet damfel pluck'd, to please

her nofe

A fad, a folemn, and a moral thing.

THE ROSE. An Elegy.

YON Rofe once bloom'd with tincture bright,

Was up before the morning light, Upon the humble greenfward ground, And charm'd the neighb'ring stalks

It

around.

gave its fragrance to the air, And, careless, kifs'd the gentle breeze; But though it gave-appear'd still fair; Still offer'd nectar to the bees.

But blooming, with uncommon pride,
And blushing, with the rainbow's
'shue,
Upon the foliage by its fide,
Which glitter'd with the morning
dew;

A fair, who watch'd her fleecy flock,
Befide the bending poplar's fhade;
While refting on a moffy rock,
Efpy'd it waving in the glade, at I
Eager to feize the envy'd Rose,

And with it deck her glowing breaft, She left her charge, forfook répofe,

And pluck'd it from its thorny reft.

That

That inftant droop'd its fpreading leaves;

And foon its beauteous colours fled In vain CECELIA's bosom heaves, For with its charms the rose is dead.

So the divinely charming maid

Sits, careless, in the bower of lifeTill by her beauties the's betray'd, And falls a facrifice to grief. PETER QUINCE.

ONCE

THE CAPTIVE

NCE in a garden, fpread with
flowers,

Enamell'd walks, and fylvan bowers,
A warbling, felf-enraptur'd thrush,
Four'd out his fonnet from a bush,
And fung with that unlabour'd fire,
Which only genius can infpire.

1

Into a cool, umbrageous grot,
The lord of this delectant fpot,
On fummer days would oft retreat,
To fhun the fcorching, folar heat,
He heard the fongfter tune his note,
He faw him fwell his trilling throat;
For now he fung in dying ftrains,
And now he rent the woods and plains;
But then, alas! what pleafures yield
The fweeteft fonrets of the field,
When foul fufpicion, foe to peace,
Bids joy abate, and cares increase.
In fuch a cafe as now exprest,
My Lord appear'd, nor could he reft;
Tho' mufic fweetly charm'd his ears,
His mind was fill'd with anxious fears.
"'Tis true (fays he) this warbler's ftrains
Are yet confin'd to my domains;
And when he fings fo bold and free,
I raptures feel as well as he:

But what of that? 1 fhall not long
Enjoy his fweetly foothing fong;

HOPE

THRUSH.

For when the fummer's bloom is past,
And Boreas blows his furly blast,
And all the trees are ftript of green,
The fongfter will no more be feen.
"Yet hold! a project fills my mind,
By which I fome relief may find:
It is in early morn to lay

A flimy twig on yonder spray;
Which, when he perches there to fing,
Will ufelefs make his agile wing;
I have him then-and in a cage,
Perhaps he'll fing for half an age.'

The fnare was laid, the bird was caught,
But now, alas! he's good for nought:
The cause that rais'd his finest tone,
Sweet liberty! no more is known.
The wiry tenement can yield
No graces like the grove or field:
He never tunes a single lay,
But pining mopes his life away,
Which makes the captor curfe the hour
He exercis'd his wanton pow'r.

From hence we learn, that tyrants oft
employ [schemes destroy;
Uulawful arms, which their own
For proudly thinking what is giv'n,
too small,
[forfeit all.
They war with right for more, and

ON HOPE.

PE sheds on all its univerfal ray, A moon by night, a genial fun by day; Pours its rich cordial on the fainting breaft, [reft.

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And foftly rocks the fick'ning foul to Hope gently lulls inquietude to peace, Bids all the ftorms of boift'rous paffion

cease;

Unaw'd by terror, undifmay'd by fear, Beams a fweet fimile for ev'ry falling

tear.

But now to different fcenes I turn my view, [deepeft hue; To scenes where forrow wears her

But fure as tears from fuff'ring forrow

glide,

Hope fhines reflected in the crystal tide.

With pantings pangs the ftifling torments bore,

But patient hope gave vent to every pore: [rene,

Firm, unappall'd, unfhaken, clear, seHope fhall furvive the melancholy fcene;

In other orbs infpire the facred figh, And point the paffage to a brighter fky.

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No tho

Hence learn, ye thoughtless and ye vain,
Who fondly dance in pleasure's train,
Amidft the gayeft fcenes of roft

youth,

To cherith ftill, beneath the flow'rs
That decorate the prefent hours,

The facred feeds of Innocence and
Truth.

ELEGIAC SONNETS.

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(Written under the Compreffure of Sorrow and Sickness.)

I.

O more through pleature's flowery NOT always did I feign the turtle's walks I ftray,

Since now immur'd in forrow's fickly fhade, Where hope ne'er gilds despair's dark clouded day,

And whence her pictures (air-drawn) quickly fade.

Since now no more gay mirth, theekdimpled maid!

Soothes my lorn breast, which heaves with mifery's figh— Let me beneath some turf-green fod be laid,

And from my griefs to death's cold flumbers fly.

Let me be plac'd beneath fome friend. ly thorn,

Where evening's bird, for kindred
forrow's fake,

Perch'd on fome bough which May's
Tweet flowers adori,

Her dirge-like fong fhall pitying oft
awake

Tofoothe my fpirit calmly fleeping near, And wake rich mufic o'er my clay-cold bier.

Aн!

moan,

Nor always wore the traces fad of

grief,

Once fat this heart within its bofom's throne,

Light as the dew-drop on the rofe's

leaf!

Once round these brows the golden crown of youth

Smiling I wore, and fram'd more pleafing rhyme,

When peace and friendship, life's com panions smooth,

Drefs'd with green flowers the moffy feet of time.

'Not with more joy, 'mid fummer's fweets, appear'd

The bee, fond pilf'rer of each vernal

bloom,

Than I by genuine love's warm smiles felt cheer'd,

When pleafure's funfhine gilt my
youthful home.

Paft hours of blifs, which crown'd
life's opening years,
Whofe charms, now fled, call forth fad
memory's tears.

INSCRIPTION FOR A RILL.

.H! not in vain we filver rills
From moffy fountains flow;
Who brawling down the vocal hills
Leave morals as we go.
Pictur'd in us, may mortals fee,
In our inceffant ftrife,
The toils of drear obfcurity,

The toils of mortal life.

Fast, fast we run, ne'er to return,
Like time that ever flies;

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For the COLUMBIAN PHENIX.

MIRANDA.

EXTERNAL charms we often find And fimple nature's peerless charms,

Where there's no beauty of the mind.
Such charms as thefe, we but admire,
Efteem, and love, they can't infpire.
Or if a fancy'd love arife

From fhape, and air, and sparkling eyes,
Delufion 'tis, it lasts awhile;
We fee, and at our folly fmile.

But where the fairest form is join'd With all that's lovely in the mind; Where softness, sweetness, mildness grace

Each finish'd feature of the face; Where heavenly modefty and artlefs mien,

are feen;

more furprise,

Where parts improved, appear, which [defpife) (Though folid fense in women, most Than all the heaven, which fhines in Mira's eyes;

Where fenfibility is join'd
With firmness and a PIOUS mind;
Here let me all my heart at once
refign;

Come feize my breast, thou paffion
all divine;
[mine.
I'll dare to hope Miranda may be

TO A SNOW DROP.

WELCOME fweet harbinger of And keen affliction, with her scorpion

op'ning spring,

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wand,

Would make a victim of the youthful heart.

How would my heart rejoice, could I relieve,

And wipe away the tear from forrow's eye,

The child of fuffering, could sweet comfort give,

Or change into a fmile the widow's figh.

Alas, the confolation I would grant

To others, I myself muft never know, But if the means, the power to bless, I

want,

I can commiferate, though not beftow.

EPIGR A M.

THE Moon, I perceive, faid a man

to his friend,

Indeed! quoth the wag, then her case I bewail

Was dry as she enter'd, but wet at her I'm forry poor Cynthia has draggled

end.

her tail.

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ŠIR,

To the EDITOR of the COLUMBIAN PHENIX.

THE following is an introduction to a Poem, yet but partly finifhed. Should I find leifure, you may expect it complete. This scrap you may give the title of

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LET the tall oak the bolts of heaven Sol's genial beams around the Maple

deride,

Or deal his mimic thunder on the tide; Be this the theme for Albion's loftier mufe,

A humbler tafk my fameless pen pursues. Shall rofes bloom in verfe, from age to age,

po

Shrubs fpread their foliage on the et's page, The willow, poplar, fir and cedar throng,

Alike the claffic and the ruftic fong, Pines wave in Milton, and no bard be found,

To plant the Maple on poetic ground? Columbia's muse forbids-in fimple

ftrain

She fings the Maple, and the hardy fwain,

Who draws the nectar from her filver

pores,

Nor envies India all its pampered ftores. What though our colder clime the Cane denies?

The cultur'd plant, a native tree fupplies;

A tree, the fairest of the forest kind, Alike for use and ornament design'd; For use, to those, who first essay the wood,

To form the table and fupply its food: To warm the labourer, by its bounty fed,

Or rear the lowly cottage o'er his head. For ornament, to grace the winding rill, Wave in the vale, or fhade the fhapelefs hill;

Or leave the foreft, where it useless grows,

Rife, in the cultur'd field, in ftately

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play;

Frofts chill by night, a thrilling warmth by day,

Distends each tube, the tube by mystic laws,

The fap nutritious from earth's bofom draws.

As higher still the swelling tube distends,

The circling fap to every branch ascends.

Till each young bud the rich nutrition fhares,

For laurel'd spring his earliest wreath prepares.

Great univerfal Cause, mysterious

Power!

That clothes the forest, and that paints the flower,

Bids the fell poifon in the Upas grow, And sweet nutrition in the Maple flow! Let wilder'd Deifts form a world by chance,

And Berkley's pupils dream in endlefs trance;

Their reason those, and these their fenfe belie,

Difcard all matter, and a God deny : In fpite of those, th' impartial eye

muft fee,

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Teach him t'obey the first great law of Heaven,

To rightly ufe the bounties freely given. In winter's leifure, let thy thoughtful The copious tray and finifh'd tube

care,

prepare.

The tray of maple, other wood might

blend

Its loathfome juices, and the taste offend.

When

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