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462.

The Complaint

WAY! away!

Αν

Tempt me no more, insidious Love:
Thy soothing sway

Long did my youthful bosom prove:
At length thy treason is discern'd,

At length some dear-bought caution earn'd:
Away! nor hope my riper age to move.

I know, I see

Her merit. Needs it now be shown,
Alas! to me?

How often, to myself unknown,

The graceful, gentle, virtuous maid Have I admired! How often saidWhat joy to call a heart like hers one's own!

But, flattering god,

O squanderer of content and ease

In thy abode

Will care's rude lesson learn to please?

O say, deceiver, hast thou won

Proud Fortune to attend thy throne,

Or placed thy friends above her stern decrees?

463.

TO-N

The Nightingale

"O-NIGHT retired, the queen of heaven
With young Endymion stays;

And now to Hesper it is given
Awhile to rule the vacant sky,
Till she shall to her lamp supply

A stream of brighter rays.

Propitious send thy golden ray,
Thou purest light above!

Let no false flame seduce to stray
Where gulf or steep lie hid for harm;
But lead where music's healing charm
May soothe afflicted love.

To them, by many a grateful song
In happier seasons vow'd,

These lawns, Olympia's haunts, belong :
Oft by yon silver stream we walk'd,
Or fix'd, while Philomela talk'd,
Beneath yon copses stood.

Nor seldom, where the beechen boughs
That roofless tower invade,
We came, while her enchanting Muse
The radiant moon above us held:
Till, by a clamorous owl compell'd,
She fled the solemn shade.

But hark! I hear her liquid tone!
Now Hesper guide my feet!

Down the red marl with moss o'ergrown,
Through yon wild thicket next the plain,
Whose hawthorns choke the winding lane
Which leads to her retreat.

See the green space: on either hand
Enlarged it spreads around:

See, in the midst she takes her stand,
Where one old oak his awful shade
Extends o'er half the level mead,

Enclosed in woods profound.

Hark! how through many a melting note She now prolongs her lays:

How sweetly down the void they float! The breeze their magic path attends; The stars shine out; the forest bends; The wakeful heifers graze.

Whoe'er thou art whom chance may bring
To this sequester'd spot,

If then the plaintive Siren sing,
O softly tread beneath her bower
And think of Heaven's disposing power,
Of man's uncertain lot.

O think, o'er all this mortal stage
What mournful scenes arise:
What ruin waits on kingly rage;
How often virtue dwells with woe;

How many griefs from knowledge flow;
How swiftly pleasure flies!

O sacred bird! let me at eve,
Thus wandering all alone,
Thy tender counsel oft receive,
Bear witness to thy pensive airs,
And pity Nature's common cares,
Till I forget my own.

464.

TOBIAS GEORGE SMOLLETT

To Leven Water

1721-1771

PURE stream, in whose transparent wave
My youthful limbs I wont to lave;
No torrents stain thy limpid source,
No rocks impede thy dimpling course
Devolving from thy parent lake
A charming maze thy waters make
By bowers of birch and groves of pine
And edges flower'd with eglantine.

Still on thy banks so gaily green

May numerous herds and flocks be seen,
And lasses chanting o'er the pail,
And shepherds piping in the dale,
And ancient faith that knows no guile,
And industry embrown'd with toil,
And hearts resolved and hands prepared
The blessings they enjoy to guard.

455.

CHRISTOPHER SMART

Song to David

UBLIME-invention ever young,

SUBLI

1722-1770

Of vast conception, tow'ring tongue
To God th' eternal theme;

Notes from yon exaltations caught,
Unrivall❜d royalty of thought

O'er meaner strains supreme.

His muse, bright angel of his verse,
Gives balm for all the thorns that pierce,
For all the pangs that rage;

Blest light still gaining on the gloom,
The more than Michal of his bloom,
Th' Abishag of his age.

He sang of God-the mighty source
Of all things-the stupendous force
On which all strength depends;
From whose right arm, beneath whose eyes,
All period, power, and enterprise
Commences, reigns, and ends.

Tell them, I AM, Jehovah said

To Moses; while earth heard in dread,
And, smitten to the heart,
At once above, beneath, around,
All Nature, without voice or sound,
Replied, O LORD, THOU ART.

The world, the clustering spheres, He made;
The glorious light, the soothing shade,
Dale, champaign, grove, and hill;

The multitudinous abyss,

Where Secrecy remains in bliss,

And Wisdom hides her skill.

The pillars of the Lord are seven,
Which stand from earth to topmost heaven;
His Wisdom drew the plan;
His Word accomplish'd the design,
From brightest gem to deepest mine;

From Christ enthroned, to Man.

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