Next bloom'd, upon an ancient forest's bound,
The flow'ry margin * of a filent stream;
O'er-arch'd by oaks, with ivy mantled round,
And gilt by filver Cynthia's maiden beam.
On the green carpet of th' unbended grass,
A dapper train of female fairies play'd,
And ey'd their gambols in the wat❜ry glass,
That smoothly ftole along the fhadowy glade.
Thro' these the Queen Titania pafs'd ador'd,
Mounted aloft in her imperial car;
Journeying to fee great Oberon, her lord,
Wage the mock battles of a sportive war.
Arm'd cap-a-pee forth march'd the fairy king,
A ftouter warrior never took the field;
His threat'ning lance a hornet's horrid fting,
The fharded beetle's fcale his fable fhield,
Around their chief the elfin hoft appear'd,
Each little helmet fparkled like a star;
And their fharp fpears in pierceless phalanx rear'd,
A grove of thistles, glitter'd in the air.
The scene then chang'd, from this romantick land,
To a bleak wafte, by bound'ry unconfin'd;
Where three fsmart fifters + of the weird band
t
Were mutt'ring curfes to the troublous wind.
Pale Want had wither'd ev'ry furrow'd face,
Bow'd was each carcase with the weight of years,
And each funk eye-ball from it's hollow case
Diftill'd cold rheum's involuntary tears,
*Fairy land, from the Midfummer Night's Dream.
The witches in Macbeth,
Hors'd on three flaves they posted to the bourn
Of a drear island, where the pendant brow
Ofa rough rock, fhagg'd horribly with thorn,
Frown'd on the boift'rous waves which rag'd below.
Deep in a gloomy grot, remote from day,
Where fmiling Comfort never shew'd her face; Where light ne'er enter'd, fave one rueful ray, Difcov'ring all the terrors of the place;
They held damn'd myft'ries with infernal ftate,
Whilf ghafly spectres glided flowly by,
The fcreech-owl fcream'd the dying call of fate,
And ravens croak'd their baleful augury. ·
No human footftep chear'd the dread abode,
Nor fign of living creature could be feen;
Save where the reptile fnake, or fullen toad,
The murky floor had foil'd with venom green.
Sudden I heard the whirlwind's hollow found,
Each weird fifter vanith'd into fmoke!
Now a dire yell of fpirits under ground,
Thro' troubled Earth's wide yawning furface broke :
When, to each injur'd apparition rofe;
Aghaft the murd'rer ftarted from his bed;
Guilt's trembling breath his heart's red current froze,
And Horror's dew-drops bath'd his frantick head.
More had I feen--but now the god of day
O'er Earth's broad breaft his flood of light had spread,
When Morpheus call'd his fickle dreams away,
And on their wings each bright illusion fled.
* Ghosts in Macbeth, Richard III. &c,
Yet ftill the dear Enchantress of the brain,
My waking eyes with wifhful wand'rings fought,
Whofe magick will controuls th' ideal train,
The ever-reftlefs progeny of Thought.
Sweet pow'r,' I faid, for others gild the ray
Of Wealth, or Honour's folly-feather'd crown;
Or lead the madding multitude aftray,
• To grafp at air-blown bubbles of renown.
Me (humbler lot!) let blameless blifs engage,
Free from the noble mob's ambitious ftrife,
Free from the muck-worm mifer's lucrous rage,
In calm Contentment's cottag'd vale of life.
If frailties there (for who from them is free ?) • Thro' Error's maze my devious footsteps lead; • Let them be frailties of humanity,
And my heart plead the pardon of my head.
'Let not my reafon impiously require
What Heav'n has plac'd beyond it's narrow fpan; But teach it to fubdue each fierce defire,
• Which wars within it's own small empire, man.
Teach me, what all believe, but few poffefs,
That life's beft fcience is ourselves to know;
The first of human bleffings is to blefs,
And happiest he who feels another's woe.
Thus, cheaply wife, and innocently great,
• While Time's fmooth fand fhall regularly pafs;
• Each destin'd atom's quiet course I'll wait,
• Nor rafhly break, nor wish to stop the glass.
And when in death my peaceful ashes lie,
If e'er fome tongue congenial speaks my name,
Friendship shall never blush to breathe a figh,
And great ones envy fuch an honest fame.'
BY THOMAS BLACKLOCK, D. D.
IGHT, brooding o'er her mute domain,
In aweful filence wraps her reign :
Clouds prefs on clouds; and, as they rife,
Condense to folid gloom the fkies.
Portentous, thro' the foggy air,
To wake the dæmon of Despair,
The raven hoarfe, and boding owl,
To Hecate curs'd anthems howl.
Intent, with execrable art,
To burn the veins, and tear the heart,
The witch, unhallow'd bones to raise,
Through funeral vaults and charnels strays;
Calls the damn'd shades from ev'ry cell,
And adds new labours to their hell.
And, fhield me, Heav'n! what hollow found,
Like Fate's dread knell, runs echoing round?
The bell ftrikes one, that magick hour,
When rifing fiends exert their power;
And now, fure now, fome cause unblefs'd
Breathes more than horror thro' my breaft.
How deep the breeze! how dim the light!
What spectres fwim before my fight!
My frozen limbs pale Terror chains,
And in wild eddies wheels my brains
My icy blood forgets to roll,
And Death e'en feems to feize
And, while my lyre refounds thy praife,
With energy divinely ftrong,
Exalt my foul, and warm my fong.
When raving in eternal pains,
And loaded with ten thoufand chains,
Vice, deep in Phlegeton, yet lay,
Nor with her visage blasted day;
No fear to guiltlefs man was known,
For God and Virtue reign'd alone.
But, when from native flames and night,
The curfed monfter wing'd her flight,
Pale Fear, among her hideous train,
Chac'd fweet Contentment from her reign;
Plac'd death and hell before each eye,
And wrapp'd in mift the golden sky;
Banish'd from day each dear delight,
And shook with conscious ftarts the night.
When, from th' imperial feats on high,
The Lord of Nature turn'd his eye,
To view the state of things below,
Still blefs'd to make his creatures fo;
From earth he saw Aftræa fly,
And seek her mansions in the sky:
Peace, crown'd with olives, left her throne
And white-rob'd Innocence was gone;
While Vice, reveal'd in open day,
Sole tyrant rul'd with iron fway;
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