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ELEGY.

BY WILLIAM SHENSTONE, ESQ.

HE ARRIVES AT HIS RETIREMENT IN THE
COUNTRY, AND TAKES OCCASION то
EXPATIATE IN PRAISE OF SIMPLICITY.
TO A FRIEND.

For rural virtues, and for native skies,
I bade Augusta's venal fons farewel;
Now 'mid the trees, I see my smoke arise ;

Now hear the fountains bubbling round my cell.

O may that Genius, which fecures my reft,
Preferve this villa for a friend that's dear!
Ne'er may my vintage glad the fordid breast ;
Ne'er tinge the lip that dares be unfincere!

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Far from these paths, ye faithlefs friends, depart! Fly my plain board, abhor my hoftile name! 10 Hence! the faint verfe that flows not from the heart, But mourns, in labour'd ftrains, the price of fame!

O lov'd fimplicity! be thine the prize!

Affiduous art correct her page in vain!

His be the palm who, guiltless of disguise,

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Contemns the pow'r, the dull resource to feign!

* Born 1714; dyed 1763.

Still may the mourner, lavish of his tears
For lucre's venal meed, invite my scorn!
Still may the bard diffembling doubts and fears,
For praife, for filatt'ry fighing, figh forlorn! 20

Soft as the line of love-fick Hammond flows, 'Twas his fond heart effus'd the melting theme; Ah! never could Aonia's hill difclofe

So fair a fountain, or fo lov'd a fiream.

Ye lovelefs bards! intent with artful pains
To form a figh, or to contrive a tear!
Forego your Pindus, and on

plains

Survey Camilla's charms, and grow fincere.

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But thou, my friend! while in thy youthful foul Love's gentle tyrant feats his aweful throne, 30 While from thy bofom-let not art controul

The ready pen, that makes his edicts known.

Pleafing, when youth is long expir'd, to trace

The forms our pencil, or our pen defign'd! "Such was our youthful air, and shape, and face! "Such the foft image of our youthful mind!

Soft whilft we fleep beneath the rural bow'rs,
The loves and graces fteal unfeen away;
And where the turf diffus'd its pomp of flow'rs,

We wake to wintry fcenes of chill decay!

40

Curfe the fad fortune that detains thy fair;

Praise the foft hours that gave thee to her arms; Paint thy proud fcorn of ev'ry vulgar care,

When hope exalts thee, or when doubt alarms.

Where with

none thou haft worn the day, 45

Near fount or ftream, in meditation, rove;

If in the grove none lov'd to stray,

The faithful Muse shall meet thee in the grove.

THE

SCHOOL-MISTRESS.

IN IMITATION OF SPENSER.

BY THE SAME.

"Auditæ voces, vagitus & ingens, Infantumque anima fentes in limine primo." VIRG.

ADVERTISEMENT.

What particulars in Spenser were imagined most proper for the Author's imitation on this occafion, are his language, his fimplicity, his manner of defcription, and a peculiar tenderness of fentiment remarkable throughout his works.

AH me! full forely is my heart forlorn,
Ан

To think how modeft worth neglected lies;

While partial fame doth with her blasts adorn Such deeds alone, as pride and pomp disguise; Deeds of ill fort, and mifchievous emprize : Lend me thy clarion, goddess! let me try To found the praise of merit, ere it dies ; Such as I oft have chaunced to espy, Loft in the dreary fhades of dull obfcurity.

10

In ev'ry village mark'd with little spire,
Embow'r'd in trees, and hardly known to fame,
There dwells, in lowly fhed, and mean attire,
A matron old, whom we school-mistress name;
Who boasts unruly brats with birch to tame;
They grieven fore, in piteous durance pent, 15
Aw'd by the pow'r of this relentless dame;
And oft-times, on vagaries idly bent,

For unkempt hair, or task unconn'd, are forely fhent.

And all in fight doth rife a birchen tree,
Which learning near her little dome did stowe; zo
Whilom a twig of small regard to fee,
Tho' now fo wide its waving branches flow;
And work the fimple vaffals mickle woe;
For not a wind might curl the leaves that blew,
But their limbs fhudder'd, and their pulfe beat

;

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low And as they look'd they found their horror grew, And shap'd it into rods, and tingled at the view.

So have I feen (who has not, may conceive,) A lifeless phantom near a garden plac'd ;

So doth it wanton birds of peace bereave, 30 Of fport, of fong, of pleasure, of repaft;

They start, they ftare, they wheel, they look aghaft ;

Sad fervitude! fuch comfortless annoy

May no bold Briton's riper age e'er taste!
Ne fuperftition clog his dance of joy,
Ne vifion empty, vain, his native blifs destroy.

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Near to this dome is found a patch so green,
On which the tribe their gambols do display;
And at the door impris'ning board is feen,
Left weakly wights of fmaller fize fhould stray; 40
Eager, perdie, to bask in funny day!
The noises intermix'd, which thence refound,
Do learning's little tenement betray:

Where fits the dame, difguis'd in look profound, And eyes her fairy throng, and turns her wheel around.

Her cap, far whiter than the driven snow,
Emblem right meet of decency does yield:
Her apron dy'd in grain, as blue, I trowe,
As is the hare-bell that adorns the field:

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And in her hand, for fcepter, she does wield 50 Tway birchen sprays; with anxious fear entwin'd, With dark diftruft, and fad repentance fill'd;

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