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VI. Old EDWARD's fons, unknown to yield, Shall crowd from Cressy's laurell’d field,

And gaze with fix'd delight ; Again for Britain's wrongs they feel, Again they snatch the gleamy steel,

And wish th’avenging fight.

. VII.
If, weak to footh so soft an heart,
These pictur'd glories nought impart

To dry thy constant tear;
If yet in forrow's distant eye,
Expos’d and pale thou seest him lie,

Wild war insulting near,

VIII.
Where-e'er from time thou court'st relief,
The Muse shall still with social grief

Her gentle promise keep :
Ev’n humble Hartino's cottag'd vale
Shall learn the fad repeated tale,

And bid her shepherds weep.

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.. By the Same. L ow sleep the brave, who sink to reft 11 By all their country's wishes bleft! When Spring with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallow'd mould, She there shall dress a sweeter fod, Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.

NCY

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By fairy hands their knell is rung,
By forms unseen their dirge is sung ; "
There Honour comes, a Pilgrim grey,
To bless the turf that wraps their clay,
And Freedom shall awhile repair, 'S
To dwell a weeping HERMIT there!

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By the Same. J. Faught of oaten stop, or pastoral fong, 1 May hope, chaste Eve, to footh thy modeft ear,

Like thy own folemn springs,

Thy springs, and dying gales,
O Nymph reserv'd, while now the bright-hair'd fun
Sits on yon western tent, whose cloudy skirts

With brede etherial wove, w .,

Oerhang his wavy bed :
Now air is hush’d, save where the weak-ey'd bat,
With short shrill shrieks flits by on leathern wing,

Or where the beetle winds

His small but fullen born,
As oft he rises ’midt the twilight path,
Against the pilgrím borne in heedless hum.

Now teach me, mais compos’d,
To breathe fome foften'd strain,
Аа 2

Whore

Whose numbers stealing through thy dark’ning vale, v May not unseemly with its stillness suit, un

As musing Now, I hail w

Thy genial lov'd return ! ; ..
For when thy folding star arising thews
His paly circlet, at his warning lamp

:) The fragrant Hours, and Elves ?

Who slept in flow’rs the day,',i,1 And many a Nymph who wreaths her brows with fedge, And sheds the freih'ning dew, and lovelier still,

The Pensive PLEASURES sweet ,

Prepare thy shadowy car.
Then lead, calm Votress, where some sheety lake
Cheers the lone heath, or some time-hallow'd pile,

Or up-land fallows grey

Reflect its last cool gleam. But when chill bluft'ring winds, or driving rain,?'? Forbid my willing feet, be mine the hut,

That from the mountain's side,

· Views wilds, and swelling floods,
And hamlets brown, and dim-discover'd spires,
And hears their simple bell, and marks o'er all

Thy dewy fingers draw .....:
The gradual dusky veil. .

While Spring shall pour his show'rs, as oft he wont, And bathe thy breathing tresses, meekest Eve!

While Summer loves to sport

Beneath thy ling’ring light;
While fallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves ;
Or Winter yelling through the troublous air,

Affrights thy shrinking train,

And rudely rends thy robes ;
So long, sure-found beneath the Sylvan shed,
Shall Fancy, FRIENDSHIP, Science, rose-lip'dHEALTH,

Thy gentleft influence own,.. .
And hymn thy fav’rite name!

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VERSES written on a BLANK Leap, By Lord Lansdown, when he presented his

Works to the Queen, 1732.

A Muse expiring, who with earliest voice, [choice.

Made kings and queens, and beauty's charins her Now on her death-bed, the last homage pays, o Queen, to thee ; accept her dying lays. A a 3

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