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Man's Glory Heav'n vouchsafes to call her own.
We gaze; we weep; mixt Tears of Grief and Joy!
Amazement ftrikes! Devotion burfts to Flame!
Chriftians Adore! and Infidels Believe.

As fome tall Tow'r, or lofty Mountain's Brow,
Detains the Sun, Illuftrious from its Height;
While rifing Vapours, and defcending Shades,
With Damps, and Darkness, drown the fpacious Vale:
Undampt by Doubt, Undarken'd by Defpair,
PHILANDER, thus, auguftly rears his Head,
At that Black Hour, which gen'ral Horror sheds
On the low Level of th'inglorious Throng:

Sweet Peace, and Heav'nly Hope, and Humble Joy,
Divinely beam on his exalted Soul;

Destruction gild, and crown him for the Skies,
With incommunicable Luftre, Bright.

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NIGHT the THIR D.

NARCIS S A.

Humbly Infcribed to her GRACE

The DUCHESS of P.

Ignofcenda quidem, fcirent fi ignofcere Manes:

VIRG.

ROM Dreams, where Thought in Fancy's Maze runs

FTO Reason, that Heav'n-lighted Lamp in Man, [mad,

Once more I wake; and at the deftin'd Hour,
Punctual as Lovers to the Moment fworn,
I keep my Affignation with my Woe.

O! Loft to Virtue, Loft to manly Thought,
Loft to the noble Sallies of the Soul!
Who think it Solitude, to be Alone.
Communion fweet! Communion large, and high!
Our Reason, Guardian Angel, and our God!
Then nearest Thefe, when Others moft remote ;
And all, ere long, fhall be remote, but These.

How dreadful, Then, to meet them all alone,

A Stranger! Unacknowledg'd! Unapprov'd!

Now woo them; wed them; bind them to thy Breaft; To win thy Wish, Creation has no more.

Or, if we wish a Fourth, it is a Friend

ow mortal! Dang'rous the Defire.

Take

Take PHOEBUS to yourselves, ye basking Bards! Inebriate at fair Fortune's Fountain-head;

And reeling thro' the Wilderness of Joy ;

Where Senfe runs favage, broke from Reafon's Chain,
And fings falfe Peace, till fmother'd by the Pall.
My Fortune is unlike; unlike my Song;
Unlike the Deity my Song invokes.

I to Day's foft-ey'd Sifter pay my Court,
(ENDYMION'S Rival!) and her Aid implore;
Now firft implor'd in Succour to the Muse.

Thou, who didft lately borrow * CYNTHIA's Form,
And modeftly forego thine Own! O Thou
Who didft thyfelf, at Midnight Hours, infpire!
Say, why not CYNTHIA, Patronefs of Song?
As Thou her Crefcent, fhe thy Character
Affumes; ftill more a Goddess by the Change.
Are there demurring Wits, who dare difpute
This Revolution in the World infpir'd?
Ye train Pierian! to the Lunar Sphere,
In filent Hour, addrefs your ardent Call
For Aid immortal; lefs her Brother's Right.
She, with the Spheres harmonious, nightly leads
The mazy Dance, and hears their matchless Strain;
A Strain for Gods, deny'd to mortal Ear.

Tranfmit it heard, Thou Silver een of Heav'n!
What Title, or what Name, endears thee most !
CYNTHIA CYLLENE! PHOEBE !-or doft hear
With higher Guft, fair PD of the Skies?
Is that the foft Inchantment calls thee down,
More pow'rful than of old Circean Charm ;
Come; but from Heav'nly Banquets with thee bring
The Soul of Song, and whisper in mine Ear
The Theft divine; or in propitious Dreams'
(For Dreams are Thine) transfuse it thro' the Breaft

* At the Duke of Norfolk's Masquerade.

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Of thy first Votary-But not thy last ;
If, like thy Namefake, Thou art ever kind.

And kind Thou wilt be; Kind on fuch a Theme ;
A Theme fo like thee, a quite Lunar Theme,
Soft, modeft, melancholy, female, fair!

A Theme that rofe all pale, and told my Soul,
"Twas Night; on her fond Hopes perpetual Night;
A Night which struck a Damp, à deadlier Damp,
Than that which fmote me from PHILANDER's Tomb.
NARCISSA follows, ere his Tomb is clos'd.

Woes cluster; rare are folitary Woes;

They love a Train, they tread each others Heel;
Her Death invades His mournful Right, and claims
The Grief that started from my Lids for Him :
Seizes the faithlefs, alienated Tear,

Or fhares it, ere it falls. So frequent Death,
Sorrow, he more than causes, He confounds;
For human Sighs his rival Strokes contend,
And make Distress, Distraction. Oh PHILANDER!
What was thy Fate? A double Fate to me;
Portent, and Pain! a Menace, and a Blow!
Like the black Raven hov'ring o'er my Peace,
Not lefs a Bird of Omen, than of Prey.
It call'd NARCISSA long before her Hour;
It call'd her tender Soul, by Break of Bliss,
From the firft Bloffom, from the Buds of Joy;
Thofe few our noxious Fate unblasted leaves.
In this inclement Clime of human Life.

Sweet Harmonist! and Beautiful as fweet!
And Young as beautiful! and Soft as young!
And Gay as foft! and Innocent as gay!
And Happy (if aught Happy here) as good!
For Fortune fond had built her Neft on high.
Like Birds quite exquifite of Note and Plume,
Transfixt by Fate (who loves a lofty Mark)

How

How from the Summit of the Grove fhe fell,
And left it unharmonious! All its Charm
Extinguisht in the Wonders of her Song!
Her Song ftill vibrates in my ravisht Ear,
Still melting there, and with voluptuous Pain
(0 to forget her!) thrilling thro' my Heart!

Song, Beauty, Youth, Love, Virtue, Joy! this Group Of bright Ideas, Flow'rs of Paradife,

As yet unforfeit! in one Blaze we bind,

Kneel, and present it to the Skies; as All

We guess of Heav'n: And these were all her own.
And fhe was mine; and I was-was most bleft-
Gay Title of the deepest Misery!

As Bodies grow more pond'rous robb'd of Life ;
Good loft weighs more in Grief, than gain'd, in Joy..
Like bloffom'd Trees o'erturn'd by vernal Storm,
Lovely in Death the beauteous Ruin lay;
And if in Death still lovely, lovelier There;
Far lovelier! Pity fwells the Tide of Love.
And will not the Severe excufe a Sigh?
Scorn the proud Man that is asham'd to weep:
Our Tears indulg'd indeed deserve our Shame.
Ye that e'er loft an Angel! pity me.

Soon as the Luftre languish'd in her Eye,
Dawning a dimmer Day on human Sight;
And on her Cheek, the Refidence of Spring,
Pale Omen fat; and fcatter'd Fears around
On all that faw (and who would cease to gaze,
'That once had feen ?) with Hafte, parental Hafte,
I flew, I fnatch'd her from the rigid North,
Her native Bed, on which bleak Boreas blew,
And bore her nearer to the Sun; the Sun
(As if the Sun could envy) checkt his Beam,
Deny'd his wonted Succour, or with more

Regret

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