• Or, if you would fome other clime purfue, • On you, my nuptial lord, and dearest friend. • When you awake to chace the nimble prey, • I'll also rife; and, with an equal art, Display the net, or speed the pointed dart; Or fearch the plains, and tafteful herbs provide; Or ftrip the vines, and prefs their juicy pride: • Each ev'ning will I fondly deck your bed • With sweetest flow'rets gather'd from the mead; • And when diffolv'd in downy sleep you lie, • I'll wake, and watch if foes approach too nigh. To guard your life, all hazards will I run; And, for your fafety, facrifice my own.' To whom the youth: No hazards fhall you run; Nor yet at ev'ning fondly deck my bed • With sweetest flow'rets, gather'd from the mead; • Nor fhall Amanda tasteful herbs explore; Nor fhall Avaro chafe the favage boar. • A fofter bed than flow'rs, fhall give you reft; • A choicer meat than fruits, indulge your tafte. • Ten thousand things my grateful soul shall find, So fhall our future race of children fee A conftant proverb made of you and me: When British youths fhall court the doubting dame, Then, strongly to atteft it, fhall be faid, "True as Avaro to the Indian Maid." Το I afk nor wealth, nor pomp nor pow'r, Reftore, fair queen, reftore my love! With myrtles crown'd thy altars rife, E LEGY. BY WILLIAM SHENSTONE, ESQ THE AUTHOR TAKES OCCASION, FROM THE FATE OF ELEANOR OF BRETAGNE*, TO SUGGEST THE IMPERFECT PLEA 1 SURES OF A SOLITARY LIFE. HEN Beauty mourns, by Fate's injurious doom, W Hid from the thearful glance of human eye; When Nature's pride inglorious waits the tomb, Fair Eleonora! would no gallant mind The cause of Love, the cause of Justice, own? * Eleanor of Bretagne, the lawful heirefs of the English crown, upon the death of Arthur, in the reign of King John. She was esteemed the beauty of her time; was imprisoned forty years (till the time of her death) in Bristol caftle. G g Or 4 O had fair Freedom's hand unveil'd thy charms! O fhame of Britons! in one fullen tow'r They fprung, they fhone, they faded, and they fell. Thro' one dim lattice, fring'd with ivy round, To paint how fierce her angry guardian frown'd, This Age might bear; then fated Fancy palls, Believe me **the pretence is vain! This boasted calm that fmooths our early days; For never yet could youthful mind restrain Th' alternate pant for pleasure and for praise. E'en me, by fhady oak or limpid spring, • What tho' thy riper mind admire no more- • Furs, Furs, ermines, rods, may well attract thy fcorn, Can virtue, careless of her pupil's meed, Forget how ** fuftains the fhepherd's caufe? • Content in fhades to tune a lonely reed, For public haunts, impell'd by Britain's weal, 'See Grenville quit the mufes' fav'rite ease; And fhall not fwains admire his noble zeal? Admiring praise, admiring strive to please? 'Life,' fays the fage, affords no blifs fincere, And courts and cells in vain our hopes renew: But, ah! where Grenville charms the lift'ning ear, ''Tis hard to think the chearless maxim true. The groves may fmile, the rivers gently glide, But can they please when Lyttelton's away? 'Pure as the fwain's the breast of ** glows; Ah! were the fhepherd's phrafe like his refin'd! Happy the youths, who, warm with Britain's love, Happy that in the radiant circle move, • Attendant orbs, where Lonsdale gilds the sphere! While rural faith, and ev'ry polish'd art, Each friendly charm, in confpire, From public fcenes all penfive must you part; Go, plaintive youth! no more by fount or ftream, And hail the bright proceffion of the fun. • Then, cover'd by thy ripen'd shades, resume In vain! the lift'ning Mufe attends in vain! AIN would my verfe, Tyrconnel! boaft thy name; F vece my fame. Oh! could that spirit which thy bofom warms, Whofe ftrength furprizes, and whofe goodness charms; |