Or 'mid the decorated space, ́
Affign'd the laurel'd bust a place,
And given to learning all the pomp of show.
And now from every task withdrawn,
They met and frifk'd it o'er the lawn.
Ah! woe is me, faid I;
And ***'s hilly circuit heard my cry,
Have I for this, with labour ftrove,
And lavish'd all my little ftore
To fence for you my fhady grove,
And scollop every winding shore;
And fringe with every purple rose,
The saphire ftream that down my valley flows?
Ah! lovely treacherous maids!
To quit unfeen my votive shades,
When pale disease, and torturing pain
Had torn me from the breezy plain,
And to a reftlefs couch confin'd,
Who ne'er your wanted tasks declin'd.
She needs not your officious aid
To fwell the fong, or plan the fhade;
By genuine fancy fir'd,
Her native genius guides her hand,
And while fhe marks the fage command,
More lovely scenes her skill shall raise,
Her lyre refound with nobler lays
Than ever you infpir'd,
Thus I my rage and grief display;
But vainly blame, and vainly mourn,
Nor will a grace or mufe return
"Till LUXBOROUGH lead the way.
Written in a FLOWER BOOK of my own Colouring, defigned for Lady PLIMOUTH.
Debitæ nymphis opifex coronas.
BRING, FLORA, bring thy treasures here,
The pride of all the blooming year;
And let me, thence, a garland frame,
To crown this fair, this peerless dame!
But ah! fince envious winter lours,
And HEWELL Meads refign their flow'rs,
Let art and friendship joint effay
Diffuse their flow'rets, in her way.
Not nature can, herself prepare
A worthy wreath for LESBIA's hair,
Whofe temper, like her forehead, fmooth,
Whose thoughts and accents form'd to soothe,
Whose pleafing mien, and make refin'd,
Whose artless breast, and polish'd mind,
Form all the nymphs of plain or grove,
Deferv'd and won my PLIMOUTH's love!
WAS in a cool Aonian glade,
"The wanton CUPID, fpent with toil,
Had fought refreshment from the fhade;
And ftretch'd him on the moffy foil.
A vagrant mufe drew nigh, and found
The fubtle traitor fast asleep;
And is it thine to fnore profound,
She faid, yet leave the world to weep?
But hufh-from this aufpicious hour, 1
The world, I ween, may reft in
peace;
And robb'd of darts, and ftript of pow'r,
Thy peevish petulance decrease.
Sleep on, poor child! whilft I withdraw,
And this thy vile artillery hide-
When the Caftalian fount fhe faw,
And plung'd his arrows in the tide.
That magic fount — ill-judging maid!
Shall caufe you foon to curfe the day
You dar'd the fhafts of love invade;
And gave his arms redoubled sway.
For in a ftream fo wonderous clear,
When angry CUPID fearches round,
Will not the radiant points appear?
Will not the furtive fpoils be found?
Too foon they were.; and every dart,
Dipt in the mufe's myftic spring,
Acquir❜d-new force to wound the heart;
And taught at once to love and fing.
Then farewel ye Pierian quire;
For who will now, your altars throng From love we learn to fwell the lyre; And echo asks no fweeter fong.
Urit fpes animi credula mutui.
WAS not by beauty's aid alone,
That love ufurp'd his airy throne,
His boasted pow'r display'd:
"Tis kindness that secures his aim,
"Tis hope that feeds the kindling flame,
Which beauty first convey'd.
In CLARA's eyes, the lightnings view;
Her lips with all the rose's hue
Have all its fweets combin'd;
Yet vain the blush, and faint the fire,
'Till lips at once, and eyes conspire
To prove the charmer kind
Tho' wit might gild the tempting fnare,
With fofteft accent, sweetest air,
By envy's felf admir'd;
If LESBIA's wit betray'd her scorn,
In vain might every grace adorn
What every mufe infpir'd.
Thus airy STREPHON tun'd his lyre--He fcorn'd the pangs of wild defire,
Which love-fick fwains endure:
Refolv'd to brave the keenest dart ;
Since frowns could never wound his heart,
And fmiles-muft ever cure.
But ah! how false these maxims prove,
How frail fecurity from love,
Experience hourly shows!
Love can imagin'd fmiles fupply,
On every charming lip and eye
Eternal fweets bestows.
In vain we trust the fair-one's eyes.}
In vain the fage explores the skies,
To learn from ftars his fate :
"Till led by fancy wide aftray,
He finds no planet mark his way;
Convinc'd and wife- too late.
As partial to their words we prove ;
Then boldly join the lifts of love,
With towering hopes fupply'd
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