That each fair scene which strikes her

eye, May charm with sweet variety.

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Ye streams, that, in perpetual flow,

Still warble on your mazy way, , Murmur EUANTHE, as you go ; Murmur a love-fick Poet's woe:

Ye feather'd warblers join the lay; Şing how I suffer, how complain ; Yet name not him who feels the pain.

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VI.
And thou, eternal ruling Pow'r !

If spotless virtue claims thy care,
Around unheard of blessings show'r ;
Let some new pleasure crown each hour,

And make her blest, as good and fair : Of all thy works, to mortals known, The best and faireft she alone.

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To a Young GENTLEMAN bound for

Guinea :

An ODE.

I.

A

TTEND the muse, whose numbers flow

Faithful to sacred friendship’s woe ;
And let the Scotian lyre
Obtain thy pity and thy care:
While thy lov'd walks, and native air,

5 The folemin sounds inspire.

II.

That native air, these walks, no more
Blest with their fav’rite, now deplore,

And join the plaintive strain:
While, urg'd by winds and waves, he flies,
Where unknown stars, thro' unknown skies,

Their trackless course maintain.

III.

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Yet think: by ev'ry keener smart,
That thrills a friend or brother's heart;

By all the griefs that rise,
And with dumb anguish heave thy breast,
When absence robs thy foul of rest,
And swells with tears the

eyes :

IV

By all our sorrows ever new,
Think whom you fly, and what pursue s

And judge by your's our pain ;
From friendship’s dear tenacious arms,
You fly, perhaps, to war’s alarms,

To angry skies and main.

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The smiling plain, the solemn shade,
With all the various charms display'd,

That summer's face adorn;
Summer, with all that's gay or sweet,
With transport longs thy sense to meet,

And courts thy dear return.

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VI.

VI.

The gentle sun, the fanning gale,
The vocal wood, the fragrant vale,

Thy presence all implore :
Can then a waste of sea and sky,
That knows no limits, charm thine eye,

Thine ear the tempeft's roar ?

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VII.

But why such weak attractions name,
While ev'ry warmer social claim

Demands the mournful lay?
Ah! hear a brother's moving sighs,
Thro' tears, behold a sister's eyes
Emit a faded

ray.

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VIII.
Thy young allies, by nature taught,
To feel the tender pang of thought,

Which friends in absence claim ;
To thee, with forrow all-fincere,
Oft
pay

the tributary tear,
Oft lisp with joy thy name.

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IX.

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Nor these thy absence mourn alone,
O dearly lov'd! tho' faintly known

One yet unsung remains :
Nature, when scarce fair light he knew,
Snatch'd heav'n, earth, beauty, from his view,

And darkness round him reigns.

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The muse with pity view'd his doom ;
And, darting thro' th' eternal gloom

An intellectual ray,
Bad him with music's voice inspire
The plaintive Aute, the sprightly lyre,

And tune th' impassion'd lay.

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XI.

Thus, tho' despairing of relief,
With ev'ry mark of heart-felt grief,

The absence we complain :
While now, perhaps, th' auspicious galę
Invites to spread the flying fail,

And all our tears are vain.

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