How kind were fortune, ah! how just were fate,
Wou'd fate or fortune MERCIA's heir remove!
How fweet to revel on the couch of ftate!
To crown at once her lover, and her love!

See, garnish'd for the chace, the fraudful maid
To these lone hills direct his devious way;
The youth, all prone, the fifter guide obey'd,
Ill-fated youth! himself the destin'd

prey.

But now, nor fhaggy hill, nor pathless plain,
Forms the lone refuge of the filvan game;
Since LYTTELTON has crown'd the sweet domain
With softer pleasures, and with fairer fame.

Where the rough bowman urg'd his headlong fteed,
Immortal bards, a polifh'd race, retire;
And where hoarse scream'd the ftrepent horn, fucceed
The melting graces of no vulgar lyre.

See THOMSON, loit'ring near fome limpid well, For BRITAIN's friend the verdant wreath prepare!

Or, ftudious of revolving feafons, tell,

How peerless LUCIA made all feasons fair!

See **

* from civic garlands fly,

And in these groves indulge his tuneful vein ! Or from yon' fummit, with a guardian's eye, Obferve how freedom's hand attires the plain!

Here

Here POPE!ah never must that tow'ring mind
To his lov'd haunts, or dearer friend, return!
What art! what friendships! oh! what fame refign'd!
-In yonder glade I trace his mournful urn.

Where is the breast can rage or hate retain,
And these glad ftreams and fmiling lawns behold?
Where is the breast can hear the woodland ftrain,
And think fair freedom well exchang'd for gold!

Thro' these foft fhades delighted let me ftray,
While o'er my head forgotten funs defcend!
Thro' these dear valleys bend my cafual way,
'Till fetting life a total fhade extend!

Here far from courts, and void of pompous cares,
I'll mufe how much I owe mine humbler fate:
Or fhrink to find, how much ambition dares,
To fhine in anguish, and to grieve in state!

Canft thou, O fun! that spotlefs throne disclose, Where her bold arm has left no fanguine ftain? Where, fhew me where, the lineal fcepter glows, Pure, as the fimple crook that rules the plain?

Tremendous pomp! where hate, diftrust, and fear,,
In kindred bofoms folve the focial tie;

There not the parent's fmile is half fincere ;
Nor void of art the confort's melting eye.

There with the friendly wifh, the kindly flame,
No face is brighten'd, and no bofoms beat;
Youth, manhood, age, avow one fordid aim,
And ev❜n the beardless lip effays deceit.

There coward rumours walk their murd'rous round; The glance, that more than rural blame inftills; Whispers, that ting'd with friendship doubly wound, Pity that injures, and concern that kills.

There anger whets, but love can neʼer engage;
Careffing brothers part but to revile;

There all men fmile, and prudence warns the wife,
To dread the fatal ftroke of all that smile.

There all are rivals! fifter, fon, and fire,
With horrid purpose hug deftructive arms;
There foft-ey'd maids in murd'rous plots confpire,
And scorn the gentler mischief of their charms.

Let fervile minds one endless watch endure;
Day, night, nor hour, their anxious guard refign;
But lay me, fate! on flow'ry banks, secure
Tho' my whole foul be, like my limbs, fupine.

Yes, may my tongue difdain a vaffal's care;
My lyre refound no prostituted lay;
More warm to merit, more elate to wear

The

cap of freedom, than the crown of bays. Sooth'd

Sooth'd by the murmurs of my pebbled flood,
I wish it not o'er golden fands to flow ;
Chear'd by the verdure of my spiral wood,

I fcorn the quarry, where no fhrub can grow.

No midnight pangs the fhepherd's peace purfue; His tongue, his hand, attempts no fecret wound; He fings his DELIA, and if she be true,

His love at once, and his ambition's crown'd,

ELEGY

ELEGY

XXIV.

He takes occafion from the fate of ELEANOR of BRETAGNE, to fuggeft the imperfect pleasures of a folitary life.

Hen beauty mourns, by fate's injurious doom,

WHe

Hid from the chearful glance of human eye; When nature's pride inglorious waits the tomb, Hard is that heart which checks the rifing figh.

Fair ELEONORA! wou'd no gallant mind

The cause of love, the cause of justice own? Matchlefs thy charms, and was no life refign'd

To see them sparkle from their native throne?

Or had fair freedom's hand unveil'd thy charms,
Well might fuch brows the regal gem refign;
Thy radiant mien might fcorn the guilt of arms,
Yet ALBION's aweful empire yield to thine.

O fhame of BRITONS! in one fullen tow'r
She wet with royal tears her daily cell
She found keen anguish ev'ry rose devour;

They fprung, they fhone, they faded, and they fell

ELEANOR OF BRETAGNE, the lawful heirefs of the English crown, upon the death of ARTHUR, in the reign of king JOHN. She was esteemed the beauty of her time; was im prifoned forty years (till the time of her death) in Bristol castle.

Thro'