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Dorinda

Verfes fent to a young Lady with the new edition

of Shakespeare

Verfes on Mrs. Crewe

Rhapfody on Tafte"

Fitzpatrick 217

Carlisle 221

Fox 223

Carlisle 215

Elegy written in the Garden of a Friend

Elegy written in a Country Church Yard

Elegy on Captain Cook

Death of Alico

Monody to the Memory of Lady Lyttleton

Mafon 227 Gray 231 Seward 237

Edwards 249

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XXX

THE

MINSTREL;

O R, THE

PROGRESS OF GENIUS.

A

THE

FIRST BOOK..

H! who can tell how hard it is to climb

The steep where Fame's proud temple shinesafar!

Ah! who can tell how many a foul fublime

Has felt the influence of malignant ftar,

And wag d with Fortune an eternal war!
Check'd by the fcoff of Pride, by Envy's frown,
And Poverty's unconquerable bar,

In life's low vale remote has pined alone,
Then dropt into the grave, unpitied and unknown!

II.

And yet, the languor of inglorious days,
Not equally oppreffive is to all.

Him who ne'er liften'd to the voice of praife,
The filence of neglect can ne'er appal.
There are, who, deaf to mad Ambition's call,
Wou'd fhrink to hear th' obftreperous trump of Fame
Supremely bleft if to their portion fall

Health, competence, and peace. Nor higher aim Had HE, whofe fimple tale thefe artlefs lines pro

elaim.

B

III.

This fapient age difclaims all claffic lore; Elfe I fhould here in cunning phrafe difplay, How forth THE MINSTREL fared in days of yore, Right glad of heart, though homely in array; His waving locks and beard all hoary grey : And, from his bending fhoulder, decent hung His harp, the fole companion of his way, Which to the whiftling wind refponfive rung: And ever as he went fome merry lay he fung.

IV.

Fret not yourfelves, ye filken fons of pride, That a poor wanderer fhould infpire my fhrain, The mufes fortune's fickle fmile deride, Nor ever bow the knee in Mammon's fane; Ttheir delights are with the village train, Whom nature's laws engage, and nature's charms They hate the fenfual, and scorn the vain ; The parafite their influence never warms, Nor him whofe fordid foul the love of wealth alarms.

V.

Though richeft hues the peacock's plumes adorn,
Yet horror fcreams from his difcordant throat.
Rife, fons of harmony, and hail the morn,
While warbling larks on ruffet pinious float;
Or feek at noon the woodland fcene remote,
Where the grey linnets carol from the hill.
O let them ne'er with artificial note,

To please a tyrant, ftrain the little bill,

But fing what heaven infpires, and wander where they will.

VI.

Liberal, not lavish, is kind nature's hand;
Nor was perfection made for man below.
Yet all her fchemes with niceft art are plann',
Good counteracting ill, and gladness wo.
With gold and gems if Chilian mountains glow,

If bleak and barren Scotia's hills arife; There plague and poifon, luft and rapine grow Here peaceful are the vales, and pure the kies, And freedom fires the foul, and fparkles in the eyes.

VII.

Then grieve not, thou to whom the indulgent Muse
Vouchfafes a portion of celestial fire;

Nor blame the partial Fates, if they refufe
Th' imperial banquet, and the rich attire.
Know thine own worth and reverence the lyre.
Wilt thou debafe the heart which Gon refin'd;
No; let the heaven-taught foul, to heaven afpire
To fancy, freedom, harmony, refign'd;
Ambition's groveling crew for ever left behind.

VIII.

Cant thou forego the pure etherial foul
In each fine fenfe fo exquifitely keen,
On the dull couch of Luxury to loll,
Stung with difeafe, and ftupified with spleen;
Eain to implore the aid of Flattery's fcreen,
Even from thyself thy loathsome heart to hide,
(The manfion then no more of joy ferene)
Where fear, distrust, malevolence, abide,
And impotent defire, and difappointed pride?

IX.

O how canft thou renounce the boundless store
Of charms which Nature to her vot❜ry yields!
The warbling woodland, the refounding fhore,
The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields;
All that the genial ray of morning gilds,
And all that echoes to the fong of even,
All that the mountain's fheltering bofom fhields,
And all the dread magnificence of heaven,

O how can't thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven!

X.

Thefe charms fhall work thy foul's eternal health, And love, and gentlenefs, and joy impart.

But these thou must renounce, if luft of wealth
E'er win its way to thy corrupted heart;
For, ah! it poifons like a fcorpion's dart;
Prompting the ungenerous with, the selfish scheme.
The ftern refolve, unmov'd by pity's fmart,

The troublous day, and long diftrefsful dream.Return, my roving Mufe, resume thy purposed theme.

XI.

There liv'd in Gothic days, as legends tell,
A. fhepherd-fwain, a man of low degree;
Whofe fires, perchance, in Faryland might dwell,
Sicilian groves, or vales of Arcady;

But he, I ween, was of the north countrie:
A nation fam'd for fong, and beauty's charms;
Zealous, yet modeft; innocent though free;
Patient of toil; ferene amidst alarms,
Inflexible in faith; invincible in armɛ.

XII.

The shepherd-fwain of whom I mention made,
On Scotia's mountains fed his little flock;
The fickle, fcythe, or plough, he never fway'd;
An honeft heart was almost all his flock;
His drink the living water from the rock ;
The milky dams fupplied his board, and lent,
Their kindly fleece to baffle winter's shock;

And he, though oft with duft and fweet befprent, Did guide and guard their wanderings wherfoe'er they

went.

There is hardly an ancient Ballad, or Romance, wherein a Minstrel or Harper appears, but he is characterfed, by way of eminence, to have been "Of the North countrie." It is probable that under this. appellation were formerly comprehended all the provinces to the North, of the Trent.

See Percy's Effay on the English Minstrels.

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