Puslapio vaizdai
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'Tis faid, that, in fome lone, obfcure retreat,.
Urg'd by remembrance fad and decent pride,
Far from thofe scenes which knew their better days
His aged widow and his daughter live,

Whom yet my fruitlefs fearch could never find.
Romantic wifh! would this the daughter were!"
When, ftrict inquiring, from herfelf he found
She was the fame, the daughter of his friend,
Of bountiful Acafto-who can speak

The mingled paffions that furpris'd his heart,
And through his nerves in fhivering transport ran !
Then blaz'd his fmother'd flame, avow'd, and bold;
And as he view'd her, ardent, o'er and o'er,
Love, gratitude, and pity, wept at once.
Confus'd and frighten'd at his fudden tears,
Her rifing beauties flufh'd a higher bloom;
As thus Palemon, paffionate and juft,
Pour'd out the pious rapture of his foul.

And art thou, then, Acafto's dear remains?
She whom my reflefs gratitude has fought
So long in vain?-O yes! the very fame,
The foften'd image of my noble friend;
Alive, his every feature, every look,
More elegantly touch'd. Sweeter than Spring!
Thou fole furviving bloffom from the root
That nourish'd up my fortune! fay, ah! where,
In what fequefter'd defert, haft thou drawn
The kindeft afpect of delighted heaven!
Into fuch beauty fpread, and blown fo fair,
Though poverty's cold wind and crushing rain.
Beat keen and heavy on thy tender years.
O let me now into a richer foil

Tranfplant thee fafe, where vernal funs and fhows
Diffufe their warmeft, largest influence;

And of my garden be the pride and joy..

Ill it befits thee, oh! it ill befits

Acafto's daughter, his, whofe open ftores,
Though vall, were little to his ampler heart,
The father of a country, thus to pick
The very refufe of thofe harvest-fields
Which from his bounteous friendship I enjoy.
Then throw that fhameful pittance from thy hand,

But

But ill applied to fuch a rugged task:
The fields, the mafter, all, my fair, are thine;
If to the various bleffings which thy house
Has on me lavish'd, thou wilt add that blifs,
That dearest blifs, the power of bleffing thee !"
Here ceas'd the youth; yet ftill his fpeaking eye
Express'd the facred triumph of his foul,

With confcious virtue, gratitude, and love,
Above the vulgar joy divinely rais'd.
Nor waited he reply. Won by the charm
Of goodness irrefiftible, and all

In fweet diforder loft-fhe blush'd confent.
The news immediate to her mother brought,
While, pierc'd with anxious thought, the pin'd away
The lonely moments for Lavinia's fate :
Amaz'd, and scarce believing what he heard,
Joy feiz'd her wither'd veins, and one bright gleam
Of fetting life thone on her evening-hours;
Not lefs enraptur'd than the happy pair,
Who flourish'd long in tender blifs, and rear'd
A numerous offspring, lovely like themselves,
And good, the grace of all the country round.
VI. Celadon and Amelia.

-YOUNG Celadon

And his Amelia were a matchlefs pair,
With equal virtue form'd, and equal grace; .
The fame, diftinguish'd by their fex alone:
Hèrs, the mild luftre of the blooming morn;
And his, the radiance of the rifen day.

They lov'd. But fuch their guilelefs paffion was,
As, in the dawn of time, inform'd the heart
Of innocence and undiffembling truth.

Twas friendship heighten'd by the mutual wish:
Th' enchanting hope, and fympathetic glow,
Beam'd from the mutual eye. Devoting all
To love, each was to each a dearer felf;
Supremely happy in the awaken'd power
Of giving joy. Alone, amid the fhades,
Still in harmonions intercourfe, they liv'd
The rural day, and talk'd the flowing heart;
Or figh'd and look'd-unutterable things.

So

So pafs'd their life; a clear united stream,
By care unruffled, till, in evil hour,

The tempeft caught them on the tender walk,
Heedlefs how far and where its mazes stray'd;
While, with each other bleft, creative love
Still bade eternal Eden fmile around.
Prefaging inftant fate, her bofom heav'd
Unwonted fighs; and, ftealing oft a look
Tow'rds the big gloom, on Celadon her eye
Fell tearful, wetting her diforder'd cheek.
In vain affuring love and confidence

In heaven reprefs'd her fear; it grew, and shook
Her frame near diffolution. He perceiv'd
Th' unequal conflict; and, as angels look
On dying faints, his eyes compaffion fhed,
With love illumin'd high. "Fear not," he said,
"Sweet innocence! thou ftranger to offence
And inward ftorm! He who yon fkies involves
In frowns of darkness, ever fmiles on thee
With kind regard. O'er thee the fecret fhaft,
That wastes at midnight, or th' undreaded hour
Of noon, flies harmless; and that very voice
Which thunders terrour through the guilty heart,
With tongues of feraphs whifpers peace to thine.
"Tis fafety to be near thee, fure, and thus

To clafp perfection !"-From his void embrace
(Myfterious Heaven!) that moment, to the ground,
A blaken'd corfe was struck the beauteous maid.
But who can paint the lover, as he stood
Pierc'd by fevere amazement, hating life,
Speechlels, and fix'd in all the death of wo.

VII. Defcription of Mab, Queen of the Fairies.
SHE is the fancy's midwife: and fhe comes
In fhape no bigger than an agate-stone
On the fore-finger of an alderman;
Drawn with a team of little atomies,
Athwart mens nofes as they lie afleep:

Her waggon-fpokes, made of long spinners' legs;
The cover, of the wings of grafshoppers;
The traces, of the fmalleft fpider's web;
The collars, of the moonshine's watery beams;

Her

Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film:
Her waggoner, a fmall gray-coated gnat :
Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut,

Made by the joiner fquirrel or old grub,
Time out of mind the fairies' coachimakers.
And in this ftate the gallops, night by night,
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;
O'er lawyers' fingers, who ftraight dream on fees;
O'er ladies' lips, who ftraight on kiffes dream:
And fometimes comes fhe with a tithe-pig's tail,
Tickling the parfon as he lies afleep;
Then dreams he of another benefice.
Sometimes the driveth o'er a foldier's neck ;
And then he dreams of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades;
Of healths five fathom deep: and then, anon,
Drums in his ears; at which he starts and wakes;
And, being thus frighted, fwears a prayer or two-
And fleeps again.

VIII. On the Exiflence of a Deity.

RETIRE. The world fhut out.-Thy thoughts call

home.-

Imagination's airy wing reprefs.

Lock up thy fenfes. Let no paffion ftir.-
Wake all to reafon. Let her reign alone..
Then, in thy foul's deep filence, and the depth
Of nature's filence, midnight, thus inquire.-
What am I? and from whence?—I nothing know
But that I am; and, fince I am, conclude

Something eternal. Had there e'er been nought,
Nought ftill had been. Eternal there must be.-
But, what eternal? Why not human race,
And Adam's ancestors without an end?
That's hard to be conceiv'd, fince every link
Of that long-chain'd fucceffion is fo frail:
Can every part depend, and not the whole?
Yet, grant it true, new difficulties rife:
I'm ftill quite out at fea, nor fee the fhore.-
Whence Earth, and thefe bright orbs?-Eternal too
Grant matter was eternal; ftill these orbs
Would want fome other father.

Much defignTM

Is feen in all their motions, all their makes.
Defign implies intelligence, and art:

That can't be from themselves-or man: that art
Man fcarce can comprehend, could man beflow?
And nothing greater yet allow'd than man.—
Who, motion, foreign to the smallest grain,
Shot through vast maffes of enormous weight?
Who bid brute matter's reftive lump affume
Such various forms, and gave it wings to fly ?-
Has matter innate motion? Then, each atom,
Afferting its indifputable right

To dance, would form an univerfe of duft.

Has matter none? Then, whence thefe glorious forms
And boundlefs flights, from fhapelefs and repos'd?
Has matter more than motion? Has it thought,
Judgment, and genius? Is it deeply learn'd'
In mathematics? Has it fram'd fuch laws,
Which, but to guefs, a Newton made immortal?-
If art to form, and counsel to conduct,
And that with greater far than human kill,
Refides not in each block-ą GODHEAD reigns.-
And, if a GOD there is that GOD how great!
IX. Evening in Paradife defcribed. Adam and Ev&g
Converfation and Evening Worship.

NOW came ftill evening on, and twilight gray
Had in her fober livery all things clad.
Silence accompanied; for beaft and bird,
They to their graffy couch, these to their nefts
Were flunk; all but the wakeful nightingale;
She all night long her amorous defcant fung:
Silence was pleas'd. Now glow'd the firmament
With living fapphires: Hefperus that led
The ftarry hoft, rode brighteft; till the moon,
Riting in clouded majefty, at length,
Apparent queen, unveil'd her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her filver mantle threw.
When Adam thus to Eve. Fair confort, tli' hour
Of night, and all things now retir'd to rest,
Mind us of like repofe; fince God hath fet
Labour and reft, as day and night, to men
Succeffive; and the timely dew of fleep

Now

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