Deep in a gloomy grot remote from day, Where smiling Comfort never shew'd her face, Where light ne'er enter’d, fave one rueful ray Discov’ring all the terrors of the place, They held damn'd myft'ries with infernal state, Whilst ghaftly spectres glided slowly by, The scritch-owl fcream'd the dying call of fate, And ravens croak’d their baleful augury. No human footstep cheer'd the dread abode, Nor sign of living creature could be feen, Save where the reptile snake, or fullen toad, The murky floor had soil'd with venom green. Sudden I heard the whirlwind's hollow found, Each weird Gifter vanish'd into smoke. Now a dire yell of fpirits e underground Thro' troubled Earth’s wide yawning surface broke ; When lo! each injur'd apparition rose; Aghaft the murd'rer started from his bed ; And Horror's dew-drops bath'd his frantic head. More had I feen but now the God of day O’er earth’s broad breast his flood of light had fpread, Ghoffs in Macbeth, Richard III. &c. Yet Yet still the dear ENCHANTRESS of the brain My waking eyes with withful wand'rings sought, Whose magic will controuls th' ideal train, The ever-reflefs progeny of THOUGHT. Sweet pow'r, I said, for others gild the ray Of Wealth, or Honor's folly-feather'd crown, Or lead the madding multitude astray To grasp at air-blown bubbles of renown. , Me (humbler lot !) let blameless bliss engage, Free from the noble mob's ambitious strife, Free from the muck-worm miser's lucrous rage, In calm Contentment's cottagd vale of life. If frailties there (for who from them is free ?) Thro' Error's maze my devious footsteps lead, Let them be frailties of humanity, And my heart plead the pardon of my head. Let not my reason impiously require What heav'n has plac'd beyond its narrow span, But teach it to subdue each fierce desire, Which wars within its own sınall empire, man. Teach me, what all believe, but few poffefs, That life's best science is ourselves to know, The first of human blesings is to bless, And happiest he who feels another's woe. Thus Thus cheaply wise, and innocently great, While Time's smooth fand shall regularly pafs, Nor rashly break, nor wish to stop the glass. And when in death my peaceful ashes lie, If e'er fome tongue congenial speaks my name, And great ones envy such an honest fame. R 24 36 = To. a Lady of Quality, fitting up her Library, 1738 Upon a Visit to the same in Winter, 1748 An irregular Ode after Sickness, 1749 Love Songs, and lighter Pieces, written between the Year 3. 39 The Rape of the Trap, a Ballad; written at College 1736 42 A Simile 46 49 51 52 53 The Progress of Advice. A common Cafe To Lady Fane on her Grotto at Bafilden, 1746 The Invisible ib. 63 67 45 47 54 55 57 61 Book, 1751 78 1756 e Swallows. 72 75 77 Swift 82 83 84 87 90 92 93 95 98 104 105 107 IIO 117 119 139 134 in return for the extraordinary Kindness and Humanity 136 Prussia 147 1 III 138 |