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Beyond what he can reach to know,
And that Heav'n's all-subduing will,
With good the progeny of ill,
Attempers every state below.

How pleasing wears the wintry night,
Spent with the old illustrious dead!
While, by the taper's trembling light,
I seem those awful courts to tread
Where chiefs and legislators lie,
Whose triumphs move before my eye
With every laurel fresh display'd;
While charm'd I taste th’ Ionian song,
Or bend to Plato's godlike tongue
Resounding thro' the olive shade.
But if the gay, well-natur'd friend
Bids leave the studious

page awhile,
Then easier joys the soul unbend,
And teach the brow a softer smile;
Then while the genial glass is paid
By each to her, that faireft maid,
Whose radiant eyes his hopes obey,
What lucky vows his bosom warm!
While absence heightens ev'ry charm,
And love invokes returning May.
May! thou delight of heav'n and earth,
When will thy happy morn arise?
When the dear place


her birth
Restore Lucinda to my eyes?
There while she walks the wonted grové,
The seat of music and of love,



Bright as the one primeval fair,
Thither, ye filver-founding lyres,
Thither, gay smiles and young desires,
Chaste hope and mutual faith repair.

And if believing love can read
The wonted softness in her eye,
Then shall my fears, O charming maid,
And every pain of absence die:
Then ofter to thy name attun'd,
And rising to diviner sound,
I'll wake the free Horatian song:
Old Tyne shall listen to my tale,
And Echo, down the bord'ring vale,
The liquid melody prolong.


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O FLY! 'tis dire Suspicion's mien;

And, meditating plagues unseen,

The forc'ress hither bends:
Behold her torch in gall imbrued;
Behold her garments drop with blood

Of lovers and of friends.

Fly far! already in your eyes
I see a pale suffusion rise:


And soon thro' every vein,' Soon will her secret venom spread, And all your heart, and all your head

Imbibe the potent stain.

Then come the hours of shame and fear;
Then hints of horror seize your ear;

While gleams of loft delight
Raise the deep discord of the brain,
As lightning shines along the main

Thro' whirlwinds and thro' night.

No more can faith or candour move ;
But each ingenuous deed of love

Which once you would applaud,
Now, smiling o'er her dark distress,
Malignant fancy longs to dress

Like injury and fraud.

Farewel to virtue's peaceful times!
For foon you'll stoop to act the crimes

You thus can stoop to fear:
When Vice begins her ugly train
With wrongs of such unmanly stain,

What horrors form the rear!

'Tis thus to work her baleful pow'r,
Suspicion waits the fullen hour

Of fretfulness and strife,
When care th’ infirmer bosom wrings,
Or Eurus shakes his gloomy wings

To damp the seats of life.


But come, forsake the scene unblest,
Which first beheld your candid breaft,

To groundless fears a prey;
Come, where with my prevailing lyre
The skies, the streams, the groves conspire
To charm your



Thron'd in the sun's descending car,
What power unseen diffuses far

This tenderness of mind?
What Genius smiles on every

flood? What God, in whispers from the wood, Bids every

heart be kind?

O thou, whate'er thy awful name,
Whose breath awak'd th' immortal flame

That moves my active veins;
Thou, who by fair affection's ties
Haft doubled all my future joys,

And half disarm'd my pains ;

Let universal Candour still,
Clear as yon heav'n-reflecting rill,

Preserve my open mind;
Nor This, nor that man's crooked views,
One mean or cruel doubt infuse
To injure human kind.








INDEED, my Phædria, if to find

That gold a female’s vow can gain,
If this had e'er difturb’d your mind,
Or cost one serious moment's pain,
I should have said that all the rules
You learnt of moralists and schools,
Were very useless, very vain.
Yet I perhaps miftake the case;
And tho’ with this heroic air,
Like one that holds a nobler chace,
You seem the lady's loss to bear,
Perhaps your heart bely'd your tongue,
And thinks my censure mighty wrong
To count it such a sight affair.
When Hesper gilds the shaded sky,
Slow-wandering thro' the well-known grove,
Methinks I see you cast your eye
Back to the morning scenes of love :
Her tender look, her graceful way,
The pretty things you heard her say,
Afresh your struggling fancy move.
Then tell

soul intire ? Does Wisdom calmly hold her throne? Then can you question each desire,

me, is



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