Thy wretched fingers now no more shall deck
And tie the fav'rite riband round his neck;
No more thy hand shall smooth his glossy hair,
And comb the wavings of his pendant ear.
Yet cease thy flowing grief forsaken Maid!
All mortal pleasures in a moment fade;
Our surer hope is in an hour destroy'd,

And love, best gift of Heav'n, not long enjoy'd.
Methinks I see her frantic with despair,

Her streaming eyes, wrung hands, and flowing hair;
Her Mechlen pinners rent the floor bestrow,

And her torn fan gives real signs of woe.
Hence Superstition! that tormenting guest,
That haunts with fancy'd fears the coward breast;
No dread events upon this fate attend,

Stream eyes no more, no more thy tresses rend.
Tho' certain omens oft' forewarn a state,
And dying lions show the monarch's fate,
Why should such fears bid Celia's sorrow rise?
For when a Lap-dog falls no Lover dies.

Cease, Celia, cease; restrain thy flowing tears,
Some warmer passion will dispel thy cares.
In man you'll find a more substantial bliss,
More grateful toying, and a sweeter kiss.

He's dead. Oh! lay him gently in the ground!

20

And may his tomb be by this verse renown'd;

Here Shock, the pride of all his kind, is laid,

30

Who fawn'd like man, but ne'er like man betray'd. 32

GONDIBERT.

A POEM.*

[CONTINUED FROM SIR WILLIAM DAVENANT.]
BOOK III. CANTO VII.

The Argument.

The Duke to solitude and shades retires:
Young Goltho burns with lewd unhallow'd fires;
The priests the nuptial rites prepare in vain,
Bad news arriving from the Brescian plain.

AND

I.

now the gentle Duke, with all his train, And Rhodalind, to splendid courts repair, Where Aribert designs a son to gain,

Whose worth the greatest of his peers declare.

II.

He gives him honours won by merit true,
And praise (most grateful food of worthy minds)

*Though we do not pretend to give the following as the production of Mr. Gay, yet as we had them from a person of undoubted veracity, who assures us that they were found among his papers after his decease, and as many marks of correction were made in them, so there is little doubt that they have undergone the inspection of that celebrated author.

Considering these things, and that the imitation seemed too good to be lost, we have, on mature deliberation, given these Cantosa place in this Work, and have the greatest hopes that they will prove agreeable to our readers. Gay's Works, Vol. IV. edit. 1773.

And promise still of empire doth renew,
With vows dispers'd in air by envious winds.

Him Gondibert with duteous speech addrest,
In loyal rev'rence to the kingly pow'r :---
But cares corrode his sad and tortur'd breast,
Which ev'ry blossom of his hopes devour.

IV.

The wounds of love deep in his bosom fix'd:
Immortal love that triumphs over all,

With conscious worth and tenderness commix'd,
For high-born Rhodalind his mind enthral:

V.

He thinks on bloody battles vainly fought,
(For vain is honour gain'd where peace is lost)
And rues the ills which blind Ambition wrought,
And lovers in their dearest wishes crost.

VI.

Yet deems he Arnold's fate untimely slain,
And Hugo's, resting in the silent tomb,

A happier chance than theirs who live in vain,
And hopeless wither in their early bloom.

And oft' he wishes that his partial lot
Had plac'd him on some unfrequented shore,
Or giv'n him, tranquil, in the rural cot,
To her whose charms he did with zeal adore.

Volume 11.

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20

VIII.

Birtha---whom far beyond ambition's flame

He priz'd ;---whose love by him alone possest,
Beyond the thirst of glory or of fame
Inspires his soul and animates his breast.

IX.

Each object now a splendid grace assumes,

And strives to tempt him with the pleasing glare:
Deck'd in their costliest robes and 'richest plumes,
The supple courtiers flatt'ring strains prepare.

x.

All gay and rich,---but far above the rest
Imperial Rhodalind in beauty shone,

30

As the fair moon that, bright'ning in the east, Outshines the stars which deck her ev'ning throne. 40

XI.

On Gondibert she fix'd her ardent eye;

On him her thought, on him her soul, was bent;

Yet oft' her bosom heav'd an anxious sigh,

And oft' her mind presag'd some sad event.

XII.

But he, ere yet his solemn troth he plights,
Asks a short space to leave Verona's wall,
And while the priests prepare the nuptial rites,
To go where vows and pious duties call.

XIII.

A pilgrimage he feigns, (with ease believ'd)
As vow'd in youth to a peculiar shrine;

50

The easy king, thus piously deceiv'd,

Grants his request, and lauds the just design.

XIV.

But he, to Birtha constant, soon withdrew
To where thick woods a lone recess afford :'
A rural mansion rising to the view,

Receives him there, and hails its ancient lord.

I XV.

'Twas where in early youth he wont retire,
To woo sweet Solitude, and taste her charms,
Ere yet his bosom caught the martial fire,
Ere yet his name was great in deeds of arms.

From hence he soon dispatch'd a trusty slave
To proud Verona, and the neighb'ring plain,
To summon all his try'd companions brave,
Who in the city or the camp remain.

XVII.

To Hurgónil, his sister Orna's knight,
To Tybalt, great of soul, and fam'd afar
For prudent youth;---to Goltho, fierce in fight,
Friends of his house, and partners of the war.

Among the rest, a chief there was who late
Return'd from northern climes, with glory crown'd,
Who the rough Vandals follow'd like their fate,
And bore the mark of many an honest wound.
Mij