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But mourn in vain-his vigorous arm shall fail,
Guilt fink him down, and angry Heav'n prevail;
No friendly hand to earth his limbs convey,

But dogs and vultures tear the bloated prey !

Yet, ah, fond heart! avert, kind Heaven, the ftroke,
My heart denies what trembling lips have spoke.
The varying accents real nature prove,

And only fhew how wild a thing is love.

Go, much-lov'd youth! with every bleffing crown'd,
And Laura's wishes ever guard thee round.
Me to the filent fhades, and fad retreat,
Where love's expiring flames forget their heat,
Death wooes all-powerful: ere he parts the clew,
Once more thy Laura bids her love adieu ;
Bids health and affluence every bliss afford,
Bids thee be lov'd, be happy, and ador'd!
In eafe, in mirth, glide each glad hour away;
No pain to spot thy fortune's cloudless day;
No figh to fwell, no tear to flow for me!

O grant, Heaven, all!-but grant thee conftancy!
Yet from my hand this last address receive;
This laft addrefs is all that hand can give.
In vain thy bark with spreading canvas flies,
If thefe fad lines fhall meet thy conscious eyes,
And, taught with winning eloquence to move,
The winds and waters waft the voice of love;
That voice, (O grant what dying lips implore!)
Afks but one tear from thee, and asks no more!

Then world, farewel! farewel life's fond defires,
Falfe flattering hopes, and love's tormenting fires.
Already, Death, before my clofing eyes
Thy airy forms and glimmering fhades arise.
Hark! hear I not for me yon paffing bell
Toll forth, with frequent paufe, it's fullen knell ?
Waits not for me yon fexton on his fpade,
Blithe whistling o'er the grave his toil has made?


Say, why yon hearfe with fading flowers is crown'd,
And midnight gales the deep-mouth'd dirge refound 2
Hail, fifter worms! and thou my kindred dust,
Secure to you my weary limbs I trust.

Dim burns life's lamp; O Death! thy work compleat,
give my
foul to gain her last retreat.
Such as before the birth of Nature fway'd,
Ere fpringing light the first Great Word obey'd.
Let filence reign; come, Fate, exert thy might
And, Darkness, wrap me in eternal night!






N the banks of the Styx, as a beautiful ghoft,

In resemblance the shade of the Goddess of Love,
Was revolving the days when a countefs and toast
She flaunted about in the regions above;

News arriv'd, which foon made all Elyfium to ring,
That the Fates a great monarch had fummon'd to rest,.

In calling Old England's late father and king

To a crown of reward in the realms of the bless'd.

My lady was vex'd to be robb'd of th' occafion,
By dying before him fo mal-a-propos,

Of seeing his royal young heir's coronation,
And making a party herfelf in the show.

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She therefore in hafte skipp'd away to the ferry

Here, Charon! you're empty; come, take over me ; • I'm refolv'd to go back to the world in your wherry, The only fine fight I e'er mifs'd of, to fee.'

Old Charon most civilly bow'd to my lady;
Stepp'd out of his wherry, and handed her in.
But finding she wanted a pafs, was as ready
Her ladyship roughly to turn out again.

Then skudding away to the court in a hurry,
Direct, for a passport, to Pluto she ran ;
And put Madam Proferpine into a flurry,

Who thought she was come to feduce her good man.

Gloomy Dis grimly fmil'd at the lady's request,

But more at her whimsical motive and reafon; And, having malignly a mind for a jeft,

Represented her fuit as a thing out of season.

I cannot,' faid he, lady fair,' with a frown,
Indulge ev'ry ghost in it's wanton defire ;

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But if for their fakes wife or husband come down,
I then might reftore the fond fouls they require.

Since Orpheus, however, in rifque of his life,

Long ago made us ftare with his mufick and paffion, Not a foul hath come down, or for husband or wife; . So that journies of this kind are quite out of fashion.

Yet, as you're a beauty, the favour I grant ye; • But wherefore again should you covet on earth, < To mix with a crowd, that perhaps only want ye To make you the theme of impertinent mirth ?

• Befides,

Befides, pretty lady, you're greatly mistaken,

If pleasure you promise yourself in the fight; For, unseen by your friends, by admirers forfaken, < There's none will regard an impalpable sprite.'

Nay, nay!' quoth the countefs, if that be the cafe,
Take your paffport again; I'll have no more chagrin :
A fig for fine fights, if unseen one's fine face!

• What fignifies seeing, if one is not seen!'




EEP filence reign'd, and dewy Night

Her filver veftment wore ;

The western gale breath'd calm delight,
And bufy day was o'er;

To hail Reflection's hour I rofe,

Each throbbing care at reft;
For facred Peace in mild repofe
Had lull'd my anxious breast,

The breezy mount, the mifty vale,
Alternately I ftray'd;

The Gothick fpire, the lonely cell,
My wandering eye survey'd :

Till, where the trembling beams of night
O'er limpid currents play'd,
Meandering-fix'd my roving fight

On deep Retirement's fhade.

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