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Objects of sense, each conscious sense asleep,

With lively image strike the wakeful foul,
Some frowning rock that threats the foaming deep,

Or wood-hung vale, where streams meand'ring roll,
Some long-lost friend's returning voice you hear,
Clasp the life-pictur'd shade, and drop the pleasing tear.

XXIII. Each outward 'organ, as ideas rise,

Gives easy entrance to the motley train ; Refie£tion calm, with retrospective eyes

Surveys her treasures in the formful brain ; Tho' Death relentless shed his baleful dew,

In Lethe dip each form-conveying pow'r,
Unhurt Reflection may her themes pursue,

Smile at the ruin, safe amidst her store ;
Without one sense's aid in life's low vale,
Fancy can furnish joys, and reason lift her scale.

| Thus the lone lover in the penfive shade

In day-dreams rapt of soft ecstatic bliss, Pursues in thought the visionary maid,

Feafts on the fancy'd smile, and favour'd kiss :
Thus the young poet at the close of day

Led by the magic of some fairy fong
Thro’ the dun umbrage winds his heedless way,

Nor hears the babbling brook that brawls along:
Thus deathlefs Newton deaf to nature's cries
Would measure Time and Space, and travel 'round the skies.

XXV, When

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When just expiring hangs life's trembling light,

And fell disease strikes deep the deadly dart,
Reason and mem’ry burn with ardour bright,

And gen'rous paflions warm the throbbing heart;
Oft will the vig'rous foul in life's last stage

With keenest relish taste pure mental joys :
Since the fierce efforts of distemper's rage

Nor 'bates her vigour, nor her pow'rs destroys,
Say, shall her lustre death itself impair?
When in high noon she rides, then sets in dark despair ?

Tho' through the heart no purple tide should flow,

No quiv'ring nerve should vibrate to the brain,
The mental pow'rs no mean dependence know;

Thought may survive, and each fair passion reign;
As when Lucina ends the pangful ftrife,

Lifts the young babe, and lights her lambent flame,
Some pow'rs new-waking hail the dawning life,

Some unsuspended live, unchang'd, the same ;
So from our duft fresh faculties may bloom,
Some pofthumous survive, and triumph o'er the tomb.

This fibrous frame by nature's kindly law,

Which gives each joy to keen sensation here,

scenes of bliss the veil may draw,
And cloud reflection's more exalted sphere.

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When Death's cold hand with all-diffolving pow'r

Shall the close tie with friendly stroke unbind,
Alike our mortal as our natal hour

May to new being raise the waking mind :
On death's new genial day the soul may rise,
Born to some higher life, and hail some brighter skies.

The moss.

s-grown tree, that shrinks with rolling years, The drooping fow'rs that die so soon away, Let not thy heart alarm with boding fears,

Nor thy own ruin date from their decay : The blushing rose that breathes the balmy dew,

No pleasing transports of perception knows, The rev'rend oak, that circling springs renew,

Thinks not, nor by long age experienc'd grows ; Thy fate and theirs confess no kindred tie : Tho' their frail forms may fade, fhall sense and reason die

XXIX. Nor let life's ills, that in dire circle

rage, Steal from thy heaving breast those labour'd fighs ; These, the kind tutors of thy infant age,

Train the young pupil for the future skies: Unschool'd in early prime, in riper years

Wretched and scorn'd still struts the bearded boy;
The tingling rod bedew'd with briny tears

Shoots forth in graceful fruits of manly joy:
The painful cares that vex the toilsome spring
Shall plenteous crops of bliss in life's last harvek bring.

XXX. She

She ceas'd, and vanish'd into fightless wind -

O'er my torn breast alternate passions sway,
Now Doubt defponding damps the wav'ring mind,

Now Hope reviving sheds her cheerful ray. Soon from the kies in heav'nly white array'd,

Faith to my sight reveald, fair Cherub! ftood,
With life replete the volume she display'd,

Seal'd with the ruddy stains of crimson blood;
Each fear now starts away, as fpectres fly
When the sun's orient beam firft gilds the purple sky.

Mean while the faithful herald of the day

The village cock crows loud with trumpet shrill,
The warbling lark foars high, and morning grey

Lifts her glad forehead o'er the cloud-wrapt hill : Nature's wild music fills the vocal vale;

The bleating flocks that bite the dewy ground,
The lowing herds that graze the woodland dale,

And cavern'd echo, swell the cheerful found;
Homeward I bend with clear unclouded mind,
Mix with the busy world, and leave each care behind.

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To the Memory of a GENTLEMAN,

who died on his Travels to Rome.

Written in 1738.

By the Rev. Dr. SHIPLEY.


, ,
Accept what pious paffion meditates
To grace thy fate, Sad memory
And grateful love, and impotent regret

Shall wake to paint thy gentle mind,
Thy wise good-nature, friendship delicate

In secret converse, native mirth
And sprightly fancy; sweet artificer

Of focial pleasure; nor forgot
The noble thirst of knowledge and fair fame

That led thee far thro' foreign climes
Inquisitive: but chief the pleasant banks

Of Tiber, ever-honour'd ftream,
Detain'd thee visiting the last remains

Of ancient art; fair forms exact
In sculpture, columns, and the mould'ring bulk

Of theatres. In deep thought rapt
Of old renown, thy mind survey'd the scenes


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