THE MANNERS. AN ODE. FAREWELL, for clearer ken design'd, Farewell the porch, whose roof is seen, Youth of the quick uncheated sight, Thy walks, Observance, more invite! O thou, who lov'st that ampler range, Where life's wide prospects round thee change, And, with her mingled sons allied, To me in converse sweet impart, To learn, where Science sure is found, To dream in her enchanted school; Retiring hence to thoughtful cell, As Fancy breathes her potent spell, Not vain she finds the charmful task, In pageant quaint, in motley mask; Behold, before her musing eyes, The countless Manners round her rise; While ever varying as they pass, To some Contempt applies her glass: With these the white-rob'd Maids combine, And those the laughing Satyrs join! But who is he whom now she views, In robe of wild contending hues? Thou by the passions nurs'd; I greet Me too amidst thy band admit, There where the young eyed healthful Wit, Are plac'd each other's beams to share, By old Miletus* who so long By him, whose Knight's distinguish'd name Refin'd a nation's lust of fame; Whose tales even now, with echoes sweet, Castilia's Moorish hills repeat: Or him, whom Seine's blue nymphs deplore, In watchet weeds on Gallia's shore, Alluding to the Milesian tales, some of the earliest romances. The Milesian and Tuscan romances were by no means distinguished for humour; but as they were the models of that species of writing in which humour was afterwards employed, they are, probably, for that reason only, mentioned here.-L. + Cervantes. Le Sage, author of the incomparable adventures of Gil Blas de Santillane, who died in Paris in the year 1747. E Who drew the sad Sicilian maid, O Nature boon, from whom proceed On all my heart imprint thy seal! Let some retreating Cynic find Those oft-turn'd scrolls I leave behind, The Sports and I this hour agree, To rove thy scene-full world with thee! THE PASSIONS. AN ODE FOR MUSIC. WHEN Music, heavenly maid, was young, While yet in early Greece she sung, Throng'd around her magic cell, Possest beyond the Muse's painting; *The Story of Blanche (see Gil Blas, b. 2, ch. 4,) has more to do with the high passions than with manners.-B. By turns they felt the glowing mind From the supporting myrtles round First Fear his hand, its skill to try, Next Anger rush'd, his eyes on fire, In one rude clash he struck the lyre, With woeful measures wan Despair- A solemn, strange, and mingled air, But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, |