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. To dry thy constant tear; Wild war insulting near, VIII. Her gentle promise keep : And bid her shepherds weep. By the Same. By fairy hands their knell is rung, There Honour comes, a Pilgrim grey, EEDO ODE J.F aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song, 1 May hope, chalte Eve, to footh thy modeft ear, Like thy own folemn springs, Thy springs, and dying gales, With brede etherial wove, ... , Oe'rhang his wavy bed: Or where the beetle winds His small but fullen born, Now teach me, mais compos’d, 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 ! ; .. :) 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. 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, Thy dewy fingers draw .....: 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; Affrights thy shrinking train, And rudely rends thy robes; Thy gentleft influence own, . . ., VERSES written on a BLANK LEAF, By Lord LANSDOWN, when he presented his Works to the Queen, 1732. A Mufe expiring, who with earliest voice, choice Made kings and queens, and beauty's charms her Now on her death-bed, the last homage pays, O Queen, to thee ; accept her dying lays. |