Penfive he treads the deftin'd way,
And dreads to go, nor dares to stay;
'Till on fome neighb'ring mountain's brow
He ftops, and turns his eyes below;
There, melting at the well-known view,
Drops a laft tear, and bids adieu:
So I, thus doom'd from thee to part,
Gay queen of Fancy and of Art,
Reluctant move, with doubtful mind,
Oft stop, and often look behind.
Companion of my tender age,
Serenely gay, and sweetly fage,
How blithfome were we wont to rove
By verdant hill, or fhady grove,
Where fervent bees, with humming voice,
Around the honey'd oak rejoice,
And aged elms with aweful bend
In long cathedral walks extend!...
Lull'd by the lapse of gliding floods,
Cheer'd by the warbling of the woods,
How bleft my days, my thoughts how free,
In sweet society with thee!
Then all was joyous, all was young,
And years unheeded roll'd along :
But now the pleafing dream is o'er,
These scenes must charm me now no more,
Loft to the field, and torn from you,
Me wrangling courts, and stubborn Law,
To fmoak, and crowds, and cities draw;
There selfish Faction rules the day,
And Pride and Av'rice throng the way:
Diseases taint the murky air,
And midnight conflagrations glare;
Loofe Revelry and Riot bold
In frighted streets their orgies hold;
Or, when in filence all is drown'd,
Fell Murder walks her lonely round:
No room for peace, no room for you,
Adieu, celeftial Nymph, adieu! :
Shakespear no more thy fylvan fon,
Nor all the art of Addifon,'
Pope's heav'n-ftrung lyre, nor Waller's cafe,
Nor Milton's mighty felf maft please:
Instead of these, a formal band
In furs and coifs around me ftand ;
With founds uncouth and accents dry
That grate the foul of harmony,
Each pedant fage unlocks his ftore
Of myftic, dark, difcordant lore;
And points with tott'ring hand the ways
That lead me to the thorny maze.
There, in a winding, close retreat,
Is Juftice doom'd to fix her feat,
There, fenc'd by bulwarks of the Law,
She keeps the wond'ring world in awe,
And there, from vulgar fight retir'd,
Like eaftern queens is more admir'd.
O let me pierce the fecret fhade
Where dwells the venerable maid!
There humbly mark, with rev'rent awe,
The guardian of Britannia's Law,
Unfold with joy her facred page,
(Th'united boast of many an age,
Where mix'd, yet uniform, appears
The wisdom of a thousand years)
In that pure spring the bottom view,
Clear, deep, and regularly true,
And other doctrines thence imbibe
Than lurk within the fordid scribe;
Obferve how parts with parts unite
In one harmonious rule of right;
See countless wheels diftinctly tend
By various laws to one great end;
While mighty Alfred's piercing foul
Pervades, and regulates the whole.
Then welcome bufinefs, welcome ftrife,
Welcome the cares, the thorns of life,
The visage wan, the pore-blind fight,
The toil by day, the lamp at night,
The tedious forms, the folemn prate,
The pert difpute, the dull debate,
The drowsy bench, the babling Hall,
For thee, fair Juftice, welcome all!
Thus tho' my noon of life be paft,
Yet let my fetting fun, at last,
Find out the ftill, the rural cell,
Where fage Retirement loves to dwell!
There let me taste the homefelt blifs
Of innocence, and inward peace;
Untainted by the guilty bribe;
Uncurs'd amid the harpy-tribe;
No orphan's cry to wound my ear;
My honour, and my confcience clear;
Thus may I calmly meet my end,
Thus to the grave in peace defcend!
By Mifs COOPER (now Mrs. MADAN) in her Brother's Coke upon Littleton.
Thou, who labour'ft in this rugged mine,
May'ft thou to gold th' unpolish'd ore refine!
May each dark page unfold its haggard brow!
Doubt not to reap, if thou canst bear to plough.
To tempt thy care, may each revolving night,
Purfes and maces fwim before thy fight!
From hence in times to come, advent'rous deed!
May'ft thou effay, to look and fpeak like Mead.
When the black bag and rose no more shall shade
With martial air the honours of thy head;
When the full wig thy visage fhall enclose,
And only leave to view they learned nofe:
Safely may'st thou defy beaux, wits, and fcoffers;
While tenants, in fee fimple, ftuff thy coffers.
Solitude, romantic Maid,
Whether by nodding towers you tread,
Or haunt the defart's trackless gloom,
Or hover o'er the yawning tomb,
Or climb the Andes' clifted fide,
Or by the Nile's coy fource abide,
Or ftarting from your half-year's fleep
From Hecla view the thawing deep,
Or Tadmor's marble waftes furvey,
Or in yon rooflefs cloyster stray;
You, Reclufe, again I woo,
And again your steps pursue.
Plum'd Conceit himself furveying,
Folly with her fhadow playing,
Purfe-proud, elbowing Infolence,
Bloated empirick, puff'd Pretence,
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