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SONNET,

TO NIGHT. .

I Love thee, mournful fober-fuited night.

When the faint moon, yet lingering in her wane,

And veiPd in clouds, with pale uncertain light,
Hangs o'er the waters of the restlefs main.

In deep depression funk, the enfeebled mind
Will to the deaf, cold elements complain,
And tell the embofom'd grief, however vain,

To fullen furges, and the viewlefs wind.

Though no repofe on thy dark, breast I sind,
I still enjoy thee—cheerlefs as thou art;
For in thy quiet gloom, the exhausted heart

Is calm, though wretched; hopelefs, yet resign'd:

WhiTe, to the winds and waves its forrows given,

May reach—eho' lost on earth—the ear of Heaven!

THE ORIGIN OF FLATTERY,

^vhen Jove, in anger to the fons of earth,
Bid artful Vulcan give Pandora birth,
And fent the fatal gift, which fpread below
O'er all the wretched race contagious woe,
Unhappy man, by vice and folly tost,
Found in the storms of life his quiet lost,
While Envy, Avarice, and Ambition, hurl'd
Difcord and Death around the warring world;
Tflen the blest peafant left his sields and faid, .
And barter'd love and peace, for power and gold;

Left his calm cottage, and his native plain,

In fearch of wealth to tempt the faithlefs main;

Or, braving danger, in the battle stood,

And bath'd his favage hands in human blood:

No longer then, his woodland walks among,

The fhepherd lad his genuine passion fung.

Or fought at early morn his foul's delight,

Or grav'd her name upon the bark at night $

To deck her flowing hair no more he wove

The simple wreath, or with ambitious love

Bound his own brow with myrtle or with bay,

But broke his pipe, and threw bis crook away.

The nymphs forfaken, other pleafures fought:

Then sirst for gold their venal hearts were bought,

And Nature's bluih so sickly art pave place,

And Affectation feizM the feat of Grace: ,

No more Simplicity, by fenfe lesin'd,

Or generous Sentiment, possefs'd the mmd;

No more they felt each other's joy and woe,

And Cupid fled, and hid his ufelefs bow.

But with deep grief propitious Venus pin'd,

To fee the Uls which threaten'd womankind;

Ills, that lhe knew her empire would difarm*

And rob her fubjects of their fweetest charm;

Good humour's potent influence destroy,

And change for low'ring frowns, the fmile of joy.

Then deeply sighing at the mournful view,

She try'd at length what heavenly art could do

To bring back pleafure to her pensive train,

And vindicate the glories of her reign.

A thoufand little loves attend the talk,

And bear from Mars's head his radiant cafque,

The fair enchantrefs on its silver bound, Wreath'd with foft fpells her magic cestus round. Then lhaking from her hair ambrosial dew, Infus'd fair hope, and expectation new, And slisted wilhes, and perfuasive sighs, And fond belief, and " eloquence of eyes," And fauh'ring accents, which explain fo well What study'd fpeeches vainly try to tell, And more pathetic silence, which imparts Infectious tendernefs to feeling hearts, Soft tones of pity ; fafcinating fmiles; And Maia's fon assisted her with wiles, And brought gay dreams, fantastic visions brought, And wav'd his wand o'er the feducing draught. Then Zephyr came: To him the goddefs cry'd, '* Go fetch from Flora all her flow'ry pride, "To sill my charm, each fcented bud that blows, "And bind my myrtles with her thornlefs rofe: "Then fpeed thy flight to Gallia's fmiling plain, ** Where rolls the Loire, the Garonne, and the Seine: "Dip in their waters thy celestial wing, "And the foft dew to sill my chalice bring; "But chiefly tell thy Flora, that to me "She fend a bouquet of her fleurs de Us; "That piognant fpirit will complete my fpell." —*Tis done: the lovely forcerefs fays, 'tis well! And now Apollo lends a ray of sire, The cauldron bubbles, and the flames afpire; The watchful Graces round the circle dance, With arms entwm'd, to mark the work's advance; And with full quiver fportive Cupid came, Temp'ring hU favourite arrows in the flame.

Then Venus fpeaks; the wavering flames retire,
And Zephyr's breath extinguishes the sire.
At length the Goddefs in the helmet's round
A fweet and fubtile fpirit duly found;
Wo foft rhm oil, than æther more resin'd,
Of power to cure the woes of womankind,
An.. catl'd it Flatter Y :—balm of female life!
It charms alike the widow, maid, and wife;
Clears the fad brow of virgins in defpair,
And fmooths the cruel traces left by care,
Bids palfy'd age with youthful fpirit glow,
And hangs May's garlands on December's fnow.
Delicious eisence! howfoe'er apply'd,
By what rude nature is thy charm deny'd?
Some form feducing still thy whifper wears,
Stern Wifdom turns to thee her willing ears,
And Prudery listens, and forgets her fears.
The rustic nymph, whom rigid aunts restrain,
Condemn'd to drefs, and practife airs in vain,
At thy sirst fummons sinds her bofom fwell,
And bids her crabbed governantes farewel:
While, sir'd by thee, with fpirit not her own,
She grows a toast, and rifes into ton.
The faded beauty, who, with fecret pain,
Sees younger charms ufurp her envy'd reign,
By thee assisted, can with fmiles behold
The record where her conquests are enroll'd;
And dwelling yet on fcenes by memory nurs'd,
When George the Second reign'd, or George the First i
She fees the shades of ancient beaux arife,
Who fwear her eyes exceeded modern eyes,
When poets fung for her, and lovers bled,
And giddy fashion follow'd as she led.

Departed modes appear in long array,
The flowers and flounces of her happier day,
Again her locks the decent sillets bind,
The waving lappet flutters in the wind,
And then comparing with a proud disdain
The more fantastic tastes that now obtain,
She deems ungraceful, trifling and abfurd,
The gayer world that moves round George the Third.
Nor thy foft influence will the train refufe,
Who court in distant shades the modest Mufe,
Tho' in a form more pure and more relin'd,
Thy foothing fpirit meets the letter'd mind.
Not death itfelf thine empire can destroy;
Towards thee, e'en then, we turn the languid eye;
Still trust in thee to bid our memory bloom,
And fcatter rofes round the silent tomb.

COLLINS.

DIRGE IN CYMBELINE.

Sung by Guiderus and Arviragus over Fidele, supposed to be dead.

To fair Fidele's grassy tomb,

Soft maids and village hinds fhall bring

Each opening fweet, of earliest bloom,
And rifle all the breathing Spring.

No wailing ghost shall dare appear

To vex with shrieks this quiet grove;
But lhepherd lads assemble here,
And melting virgins own their love.

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