my

full Heart !---But should I give it vent,

The longest Night, tho' longer far, would fail,
And the Lark liften to my midnight Song.

The fpritely Lark's fhrill Mattin wakes the Morn; Grief's sharpeft Thorn hard-preffing on my Breast, I ftrive, with wakeful Melody to chear

The fullen Gloom, fweet Philomel! like Thee,
And call the Stars to liften: every star

Is deaf to mine, enamour'd of thy Lay.

Yet be not vain; there are, who thine excell,

And charm thro' diftant Ages: Wrapt in Shade,
Prifoner of Darkness! to the filent Hours,

How often I repeat their Rage divine,

To lull my Griefs, and fteal my heart from Woe? I rowl their Raptures, but not catch their Flame: Dark, tho' not blind, like thee Mæonides!

Or Milton! thee; ah cou'd I reach

your Strain!

Or His, who made Maonides our Own.

Man

Man too he fung: Immortal man I fing;

Oft bursts my Song beyond the bounds of Life;
What, now, but Immortality can please?

O had He prefs'd his Theme, pursued the track,

Which opens out of Darkness into Day!

O had he mounted on his wing of Fire,

Soar'd, where I fink, and fung Immortal man!
How had it bleft mankind? and refcued me?

1

NIGHT THE SECOND.

ΟΝ

Time, Death, Friendship,

Humbly infcrib'd

To the RIGHT HONOURABLE

The Earl of WILMINGTON.