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To thee yon Abbey dank, and lone,
Where Ivy chains each mould'ring stone
That nods o'er many a Martyr's tomb,
May caft a formidable gloom.

Yet fome there are, who, free from fear,
Could wander thro' the cloysters drear,
Could rove each defolated Ifle,

Tho' midnight thunders fhook the pile;
And dauntless view, or feem to view,

(As faintly flash the lightnings blue)

Thin fhiv'ring Ghofts from yawning charnels throng,
And glance with filent sweep the shaggy vaults along.
IV.

But fuch terrific charms as these,

I ask not yet: My fober mind

The fainter forms of Sadness please ;

My forrows are of fofter kind.

Thro' this ftill valley let me ftray,

Wrapt in some strain of penfive GRAY:
Whofe lofty Genius bears along
The conscious dignity of Song;

And, fcorning from the facred store

To waste a note on Pride, or Power,

Roves, when the glimmering twilight glooms,
And warbles 'mid the ruftic tombs:

He too perchance (for well I know,

His heart would melt with friendly woe)

He too perchance, when these poor limbs are laid,

Will heave one tuneful figh, and footh my hov'ring Shade.

ODE.

O D E.

By Mr. GRAY.

ΦΩΝΑΝΤΙΑ ΣΥΝΕΤΟΙΣΙ

PINDAR, Olymp. II.

I. 1.

A

WAKE, Æolian lyre, awake,

And give to rapture all thy trembling strings.
From Helicon's harmonious springs

A thousand rills their mazy progress take:
The laughing flowers, that round them blow,
Drink life and fragance as they flow.

Now the rich stream of mufic winds along

Deep, majeftic, fmooth and ftrong,

Thro' verdant vales, and Ceres' golden reign:

Now rolling down the steep amain,

Headlong, impetuous, fee it pour :

The rocks, and nodding groves rebellow to the roar.

I. 2.

Oh! Sovereign of the willing foul,

Parent of sweet and folemn-breathing airs,

Enchanting fhell! the fullen Cares,

And frantic Paffions hear thy foft controul.

On Thracia's hills the Lord of War

Has curb'd the fury of his car,

VOL. VI.

X

And

And drop'd his thirsty lance at thy command.
Perching on the scept'red hand

Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather'd king
With ruffled plumes, and flagging wing:
Quench'd in dark clouds of flumber lie

The terror of his beak, and light'nings of his eye.

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With antic Sports, and blue-eyed Pleasures,

Frisking light in frolic measures;

Now pursuing, now retreating,
Now in circling troops they meet:

To brisk notes in cadence beating

Glance their many-twinkling feet.

Slow melting ftrains their Queen's approach declare :
Where'er the turns the Graces homage pay.

With arms fublime, that float upon the air,
In gliding state she wins her eafy way:

O'er her warm cheek, and rifing bosom, move

The bloom of young Defire, and purple light of Love.

II. I.

Man's feeble race what Ills await,

Labour, and Penury, the racks of Pain,
Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train,

And Death, fad refuge from the ftorms of Fate

The

The fond complaint, my Song, difprove,
And juftify the laws of Jove.

Say, has he giv'n in vain the heav'nly Muse?
Night, and all her fickly dews,

Her Spectres wan, and Birds of boding cry,

He gives to range the dreary fky:

Till down the eastern cliffs afar

Hyperion's march they spy, and glitt'ring shafts of war.

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In climes beyond the folar road,

Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam,
The Mufe has broke the twilight-gloom

To chear the shiv'ring Native's dull abode.

And oft, beneath the od❜rous fhade

Of Chili's boundless forefts laid,

She deigns to hear the favage Youth repeat,

In loofe numbers wildly sweet,

Their feather-cinctured Chiefs, and dufky Loves.

Her track, where'er the Goddefs roves,

Glory purfue, and generous Shame,

Th' unconquerable Mind, and Freedom's holy flame.

II. 3.

Woods, that wave o'er Delphi's steep,

Ifles, that crown th' Egæan deep,
Fields, that cool Iliffus laves,
Or where Mæander's amber waves
In lingering Lab'rinths creep,
How do your tuneful Echo's languish,
Mute, but to the voice of Anguish!
X 2

Where

Where each old poetic Mountain
Infpiration breath'd around;

Ev'ry shade and hallow'd Fountain
Murmur'd deep a folemn found :

Till the fad Nine in Greece's evil hour
Left their Parnaffus for the Latian plains.
Alike they scorn the pomp of tyrant-Power,
And coward Vice, that revels in her chains.
When Latium had her lofty spirit loft,

They fought, oh Albion! next, thy fea-encircled coaft.
III. 1.

Far from the fun and fummer-gale,

In thy green lap was Nature's Darling laid,
What time, where lucid Avon ftray'd,
To Him the mighty Mother did unveil
Her aweful face: The dauntless Child
Stretch'd forth his little arms, and fmil'd.
This pencil take (fhe faid) whose colours clear
Richly paint the vernal year :

Thine too these golden keys, immortal Boy!
This can unlock the gates of Joy;

Of Horrour that, and thrilling Fears,

Or ope the facred source of sympathetic Tears.

III. 2.

Nor fecond He, that rode fublime

Upon the feraph-wings of Extafy,

The fecrets of th' Abyfs to fpy.

He pafs'd the flaming bounds of Place and Time:

The

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