But fince of late ELIZABETH, By which we note the FAIRIES Now they have left our quarters; Who can preferve their charters; A man both wife and grave. Are kept in ftore; can. twenty thanks TO WILLIAM CHURNE, of Staffordshire, TO WILLIAM all give audience, For all the fairies evidence POLLIO. THE peaceful ev'ning breathes her balmy store, The playful fchool-boys wanton o'er the green; Where fpreading poplars fhade the cottage door, The villagers in ruftic joy convene. Amid the fecret windings of the wood, With folemn MEDITATION let me ftray: This is the hour, when to the wife and good, The heav'nly maid repays the toils of day. The river murmurs, and the breathing gale Whifpers the gently-waving boughs among; The ftar of ev'ning glimmers o'er the dale, And leads the filent hoft of heav'n along. How bright, emerging o'er yon broom-clad height, The filver emprefs of the night appears! Yon limpid pool reflects a fiream of light, And faintly in its breaft the woodland bears. The waters tumbling o'er their rocky bed, Solemn and conftant, from yon dell refound; The lonely hearths blaze o'er the diftant glade; The bat, low-wheeling, fkims the dufky ground. Auguft and hoary, o'er the floping dale, The Gothic abbey rears its fculptur'd tow'rs; Dull through the roofs refounds the whiftling gale; Dark SOLITUDE among the pillars low'rs. Where yon old trees bend o'er a place of graves, And, folemn, fhade a chapel's fad remains; Where yon fkaith'd poplar thro' the window waves, And, twining round, the hoary arch fuftains: There oft at dawn, as one forgot behind, Who longs to follow, yet unknowing where, Some hoary fhepherd, o'er his staff reclin'd, Pores on the graves, and fighs a broken pray'r. High o'er the pines, that with their dark'ning shade Still on the war-worn vet'ran's brow attends; Still his big bones, his youthful prime declare, Though trembling, o'er the feeble crutch he bends. While round the gates the dusky wall-flow'rs creep, Where oft the knights the beaut'ous dames have led; Gone is the bow'r, the grot a ruin'd heap, Where bays and ivy o'er the fragments spread. So, fhone the moon through these foft-nodding trees, Thefe were the emblems of his healthful mind; To him the letter'd page difplay'd its lore, To him bright FANCY all her wealth refign'd: Him, with her pureft flames the mufe endow'd, Flames never to th' illiberal thought ally'd; The facred fifters led where VIRTUE glow'd In all her charms; he faw, he felt, and dy'd. Oh, partner of my infant griefs and joys! Big with the fcenes now paft, my heart o'erflows, Bids each endearment, fair as once, to rife, And dwells luxur'ous on her melting woes. Oft with the rifing fun, when life was new, Along the woodland have I roam'd with thee; Oft by the moon have brush'd the ev'ning dew, When all was fearless INNOCENCE and glee. The fainted-well, where yon bleak hill declines, Has oft been confcious of thofe happy hours! But now the hill, the river crown'd with pines, And fainted-well, have loft their cheering pow'rs. For thou art gone.-My guide, my friend! oh,where, Where haft thou fled, and left me here behind: My tend'reft with, my heart to thee was bare, Oh, now cut off each paffage to thy mind! How dreary is the gulph! how dark, how void, The trackless fhores that never were repast! Dread feparation! on the depth untry'd, Hope faulters, and the foul recoils aghaft. Wide round the fpac'ous heav'n's I caft my eyes; And fhall thefe ftars glow with immortal fire! Still fhine the lifelefs glories of the skies! And could thy bright, thy living foul expire? Far be the thought!-The pleafures moft fublime, The glow of friendship, and the virt'ous tear, The tow'ring wish, that scorns the bounds of time, Chill'd in this vale of death, but languish here. So, plant the vine on NORWAY's wint'ry land, The languid ftranger feebly buds, and dies: Yet there's a clime where VIRTUE fhall expand With godlike ftrength, beneath her native fkies. The lonely fhepherd on the mountain's fide, With patience waits the rofy op'ning day; The mariner at midnight's darkfome tide, With cheerful hope expects the morning ray, Thus I, on life's ftorm-beaten ocean toft, In mental vifion view the happy fhore, Where POLLIO beckons to the peaceful coaft, Where fate and death divide the friends no more! Oh! that fome kind, fome pitying kindred shade, Who, now perhaps, frequents this folemn grove, Would tell the awful fecrets of the dead,. And, from my eyes the mortal film remove! Vain is the wifh-yet furely not in vain, Man's bofom glows with that celestial fire, Which fcorns earth's luxuries, which smiles at pain, And wings his fpirit with fublime defire. To fan this fpark of heav'n, this ray divine, Still, oh, my foul! ftill be thy dear employ; Still thus to wander through the fhades be thine, And fwell thy breast with vis'onary joy! So, to the dark-brow'd wood, or facred mount, In ancient days, the holy feers retir'd; And, led in vifion, drank at SILOE's fount, While rifing ecftafies their bosoms fir'd; Reftor'd creation bright before them rofe, The burning deferts fmil'd as EDEN's plains, One friendly thade the wolf and lambkin chose, The flow'ry mountains fung-" MESSIAH REIGNS!" Though fainter raptures my cold breast inspire, What time the moon-fhine dimly gleams between. There, where the CROSS in hoary ruin nods, And weeping yews o'erfhade the letter'd ftones, While midnight filence wraps thefe drear abodes, And foothes me wand'ring o'er my kindred bones: Let kindled fancy view the glorious morn, When from the burfting graves the juft fhall rife, All nature fmiling, and, by angels borne, MESSIAH'S cross far blazing o'er the skies! |