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Is't reafon no; that my whole life will belye,
For who fo at variance as reafon and I?

Is't ambition that fills up each chink of my heart,
Nor allows any fofter fenfation a part?
Oh no! for in this all the world must agree,
One folly was never fufficient for me.
Is my mind on diftrefs too intenfely employ'd,
Or by pleasure relax'd, by variety cloy'd?
For alike in this only, enjoyment and pain

Both flacken the fprings of those nerves which they ftrain,

That I've felt each reverfe that from fortune can flow,
That I've tasted each bliss that the happiest know,
Has ftill been the whimfical fate of my life,
Where anguish and joy have been ever at ftrife.
But tho' vers'd in th' extremes both of pleasure and pain,
I am ftill but too ready to feel them again.

If then for this once in my life I am free,

And efcape from a fnare might catch wifer than me; 'Tis that beauty alone but imperfectly charms

For tho' brightnefs may dazzle 'tis kindness that warms:
As on funs in the winter with pleasure we gaze,
But feel not the warmth though their fplendour we
praife,

So beauty our juft admiration may claim;

But love, and love only the heart can inflame.

RHAPSODY on TASTE,

On feeing the Duchefs of Devonshire in full

Drefs.

By LORD C

C

OME, thou goddess fair and free,
Whom the meek nymph, Simplicity,
To the fon of Maia bore,

And nurs'd upon th' Athenian shore,
Then to thy fire her charge refign'd,
Who to fuch elegance of mind
Added, whatever polifh'd cafe
Could give, and all the arts to please :
Whether on Reynolds (beauty's friend)
Thou biddeft every grace attend;
Or fmiling doft in fportive fong
Hail the great guest of Kien-long * :
Hither, various goddefs, hafte,
Boundless, inimitable taste,

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*Sir William Chambers.

And fave thofe charms from fashion's tawdry reign,
Which Nature gave to Dev'n, and gave in vain-
From her cumbrous forehead tear
The architecture of her hair,

But leave one fnow-white plume to fhew
It faintly mocks the neck below-
Snatch from her lip the immodeft guile
Of affectation's conftant fmile,
And on her cheek replace the rose,
Which, pale and wan, no longer glows
With all that beauty, youth, and love,
Could copy from fome faint above-
Would the promise real blifs,

Bid her feem but what he is:
Or, if lovelier still she'd be,

From Granby learn to worship thee.

Lincolns-Inn New-fquare.

E L

E G Y.

Written in the Garden of a Friend.

By W. MASON, A. M.

WHILE o'er my head this laurel-woven bow'r

Its arch of glittering verdure wildly flings,

Can fancy flumber? can the tuneful pow'r,
That rules my lyre, neglect her wonted ftrings?

No; if the blightning Eaft deform'd the plain,
If this gay bank no balmy fweets exhal'd,
Still fhould the grove re-echo to my train,

And friendship prompt the theme, where beauty fail'd.

For he, whofe careless art this foliage dreft,
Who bad thefe twining braids of woodbine bend,
He first with truth and virtue taught my breast
Where beft to chuse, and best to fix a friend.

How well does mem'ry note the golden day,
What time reclin'd in Marg'ret's ftudious glade,
My mimic reed first tun'd the * Dorian lay,

"Unfeen, unheard, beneath an hawthorn fhade!"

'Twas there we met the mufes hail'd the hour;
The fame defires, the fame ingenious arts
Inspir'd us both : we own'd and bless'd the pow'r
That join'd at once our studies and our hearts.

O! fince thofe days, when feience fpread the feaft,
When emulative youth its relish lent,

Say has one genuine joy e'er warm'd my breast ?
Enough: if joy was his, be mine content.

To thirst for praise his temperate youth forbore;
He fondly with'd not for a poet's name,
Much did he love the mufe, but quiet more,
And, tho' he might command, he flighted fame.

Hither in manhood's prime he wifely fled

From all that folly, all that pride approves ; To this foft fcene a tender partner led;

This laurel fhade was witnefs to their loves.

"Begone (he cry'd) ambition's air-drawn plan; "Hence with perplexing pomp's unwieldy wealth: "Let me not feem, but be the happy man,

“Poffest of love, of competence, and health.”

Smiling he fpake, nor did the fates withstand;
In rural arts the peaceful moments flew :
Say, lovely lawn! that felt his forming hand,
How foon thy furface shone with verdure new :

* Mufocus, the first Poem which the author pub. lifhed, written while he was a fcholar of St. College in Cambridge.

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