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Why hears not now? What fairer grove
than Harewood knows,
For scorning oft the gorgeous hall,
Where banners wave with blazon'd gold, There will the meek-ey'd nymph delight to call, And with the folemn seer high converse hold.
Then, rising light, your host you bless,
Where all the Loves and Graces lye,
Now nearer, and now nearer sounds.
Avaunt ! ye vain, delufive fears. Hark! Echo tells thro'Harewood'sampleft bounds, That Love, Content, and athELWOLD appears.
ON CONSTAN C Y..
Which sparkling dances on the trembling stream, Nor the blue lightning's fash swift-shooting thro' the skies.
But such a solemn steady light,
As oe'r the cloudless azure steals,
Of CONSTANCY? she, heav'n-born queen
Fixes her stedfast reign :
Gives to the starry band
* In which Athelwold and ELFRIDA had been just exchanging professions of their mutual fidelity.
Stedfast, as when around this nether sphere,
She winds the purple year.
The pearly hail's translucent show'r,
To all the heights sublime
Of Virtue's tow'ring hill. That hill, at whose low feet weak-warb'ling strays
The scanty stream of human praise,
A shallow trickling rill. While on the summits hov'ring angels fhed, From their bleft pinions, the nectareous dews, Of rich immortal Fame: from these the muse Oft steals some precious drops, and blends with art
With those the lower streams impart ; Then show'rs it all on some high-favor'd head. But thou, ELFRIDA, claim'st the genuine dew;
Thy worth demands it all, Pure, and unmixt on thee the sacred drops shall fall.
ATHELWOLD SUSPECTS THE
CONSTANCY OF ELFRIDA.
Here deign to take his hallow'd stand ;
His pinions cloath'd with downy gold;
have known Each dreary path in life's perplexing maze, Tho' now ye
yon eternal throne With harpings high of inexpressive praise,
Will not your train descend in radiant state,
No train of radiant saints descend.