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TO M S
319 Phebus she prais'd, but scorns the swain
Pour out new day!--how wondrous bright!
Some god defcends to human fight;
I'm charni'd, yet aw'd with fear.
Apollo. At last shall warm thee to desire,
Daphne, on Phæbus fix thy eye, And wake thee, Daphre, from thy dream.
With meaner shapes deceiv'd no more!
Know, I thy beauteous form adore :
Wilt thou a god, a god that loves thee, fly?
[Apollo Arikes his lyre, and Daphnc turns back es The nymph that love defpises,
surprised at the found.]
Tum thie, leave thy trembling fear!
Cannot love with music join'd
Touch thy unrelenting mind?
Fairest mortal! stay and hear,
Turn thee, leave thy trembling fear.
Hark how the river-hores prolong
My soft complaints, and murmur to my song!
Thy father Peoeus feels my pain;
See! how his ofiers greatly bow,
And seem my secret soul to know
Dapb. (afidz.] Alas! my rash, my fatal vow!
Apol. Wilt thou alone unmov'd renain?
[As Daphne is going out, je pops, and fing And my charms and my lovers were plenty,
the following air.)
Shall I return.or no?
Charmıs yet unknown furround me;
Yet, love, chou ne'er fhalt wound me
No more alarm niy breast.
Then let me kaste to go Dost thou repent thou once wert wise?
Ah no, my heart replies
In tender heaving fighs
Ye powers restore my reft.
O do not go
Daph. Dost thou not know,
I'm of Diana's train?
Thy love forbear-
Apol. Thy scorn forbear-
Daph. I must not hear;
Apol. O stay and hear;
is vain Yet might I see one courting swain,
. flight Though but to Night him once again!
[Exit Daphne pursued by Apollo. But come. I'll amorous thoughes give o'er.
Scene changes to the River.
Re-enter Daphne, lacking back as offrighted.
Daphne. [ A Symphony of infiruments is beard, whilf Apollo
He comes the swift pursuer comes, where desconds in the chariot oj' the fun; a crown of rays
Shall I escape his piercing right,
Where hide me from the god of light? about' bis bead, and bis lyre in bis band.]
Ah ! 'tis in vainhe's here.
(Daphne runs to the fide of the river, and
as she fines the following air, is transformsed into a livrel-tre.)
Father Peneus, hear me, aid me!
To all Britannia's realms around,
The double festival proclaim.
The goddess of immortal same
Shall, with her trumpet's swelling found,
To all Britannia's realnrs around,
O'er Canibria's diftant hills let the loud notes re-
bound! O fatal fight !-o curft disdain !
Each British soul be rais'd, and every eye be gay! O Peneus, how shall we our loss deplore ?
To joy, to criumphs, dedicate the day.
Hail, Cambria ! long to fame well known!
Thy patron saint looks smiling down,
Well pleas'd to see
This day, prolific of renown, And hear what honours to thy leaves remain.
Increas'd in honours to himself, and thee; No thunder e'er shall blast thy boughs,
See Carolina's natal Itar arise,
And with new beams adorn thy azure skies!
Though od her virtues I should ever dwell,
Fame cannot all her numerous virtues tell. Shall on the heads of her great chiefs be seen,
Bright in herself, and in her offspring bright, And by a Nassau, and a George, be worn.
On Britain's throne she casts diffusive light;
Detradion from her presence flies;
And, while promiscuous crowds in rapture gaze,
Ev'n congues disloyal learn her praise, With verdure ever fresh and fair,
And murmuring envy fees her file, and dies, Nor this thy deftin'd change shall mourn.
Happy inorn! such gifts bestowing:
Britain's joys from thee are filowing;
Ever thus auspicious shine!
Happy ifle ! such gifts poflcfling!
Britain, ever own the blessing!
Carolina's charms are thine.
Nor yet, O Fame, dost thou difplay
All the criumphs of this day;
Sée! o'er these rites what nighty power presides;
Behold, to chce his carly steps he guides; FOR THE BIRTH-DAY OF HER ROYAL HIGNESS What noble ardour doc: his soul excite; THE PRINCESS OF WALES,
Henceforth, when to the listening universe
Thou number'it o'er ny princes of renown,
The second hope of Britain's crown,
When my great Edward's deeds thou shalt rehearse, And performed at the Anniverfary Mreling of the So
And tell of Creffy's well-fought plain, ciety of Ancient Britons, tablifocil in honour of Her
Thy golden trumpet found again! Royal Highnesi's Birth-Day, ini of the Principality
The brave Augustus Mall renew thy strain, of Wales.
And Oudenarda's fight inimortalize the verse. u Salve læta dies! meliorquc revertere femper,
AIR, with a Harp.
Heavenly muses! tune your lyres,
See ! the fong new life inspires !
Every breast with joy abounding,
Seems to share the hero's flame.
O thou, with every virtue crown'd,
Britannia's father, and her king renown'd!
Thus in thy offspring greatly blest,
While through th’extended royal linc Rise, goddess of immortal fame,
Thou seeft thy propagated lustre shine, And, with thy trumpet's swelling round, What secret raptures fill thy breaft!
O È M S.
321 So smiles Apollo, doublyk gay,
“ I am very happy in the occaGon which shewed When in the diamond, with full blaze,
" it me in a quite different sense from what I had He views his own paternal rays,
ever apprehended, til I had the honour to be And all his bright reflected day.
“ known to your Lordship; I am sure a much
more advantageous one to the poet, as well as Hail source of blessings to our ille!
" inore just to his great parron. If I have exWhile gloomy clouds shall take cheir flight, “ ceeded the liberty of an imitator, in pursuing the Shot through by thy victorious light,
“ fame hint further, to make it less doubtful, yet Propitious ever on thy Britons (mile!
« his favourers will forgive me, when I own I have
not on this occalion so much thought of emulzeTo joy, to triumphs, dedicate the day.
iog, his poetry, as of rivaling his pride, by the
« ambition of being known as, Rise, goddess of immortal fame,
MY LORD, And with thy trumpet's swelling sound,
Your Lordship's most obliged, To all Britannia's realnis around,
and devoted humble servant, The double festival proclaim.
To the Right Honourable
LORD CHANCELLOR COWPER.
In illufson to Horace, Lib. ii. Ode I,
SIR. HUGHES TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR COWPER.
I’m rais'd, transported, chang'd all o'er!
Prepar'd, a towering (wan, to foar
New tracks, and boldly mount the sky;
I have found your Lordship's great indulgence of vulgar rank henceforth be deem'd? " and partiality to me, the best exposition, Or vainly toil niy name to save
Perhaps we never read with that attention, as From dark oblivion and the grave ? “ when we think we have found something appli-No-He can never wholly die, “ cable to ourselves. I am now grown fond enough Secure of immortality, in of this sense to believe it the true one, and have Whom Britain's Cowper condescends, “ drawn two or three learned friends (to wlion I To own, and numbers with his friends. " have mentioned it) into my opinion.
“ The Ode, your Lordship will fee, is that in 'Tis done-'I scorn mean honours now; " which Horace fcigns himself turned into a swan. No common wreaths thall bind my brov, " It passes (for aught I know universally) for a Whether the mufe vouchsafe t'inspire
compliment on himself, and a mere enthusiastic My breast with the celestial fire; " rant of the poet in his own praise, like his exegi Whether my verfe be fill'd with flanie,
monumentum, Ei. I confess T had often slightly Or I deserve a poat's name, " read it in that view, and have fuund every one Let Fame be silent; only tell * I have lately asked, deceived by the same opi- That generous Cowper loves me well. " nion, which I cannot but think spoils the ode, " and links it to nothing; I had almost said, turns Through Britain's realms I shall be knowna o the fwan into a goose.
By Cowper's merit, not my own. “The grammarians seem to have fallen into this and when the comb my dust fall hide, mistake, by wholly overlooking the reason of his | Stripp'd of a' niorcar's little pride,
rapture, viz. its being addressed to Mæcenas; and Vain pomp be spar'd, and every tear ; " have prefaced it with this, and the like general | Lei but some stone this fculpture bear; er inscriptionsm-vaticinatur carminum fuorum immorta “ Here lics his day to earth consign'd, lilatem, &c. which I think is not the subject. To whom great Cowper once was kind.". Vol. VII.
Thou propagated fully!--What in thee
Could heaven's Supreme, could perfect Wildon see,
To fix one glance of his regarding eye? () son of man! O creature of a day!
Why are thou chose the favourite of the sky? Proud of vain wisdom, with false greatness gay! While angels wonder at the mercy known, Heir of thy father's vice, to whose bad store And scarce the wretch himself the debt immense Thy guilty days are fpeut in adding more;
DANS SA 1, EPISTRE AU ROY.
IN HIS FIRST EPISTLE TO LEWIS YIV.
POURQUOI ces elephans, ces armes, ce bagage, WAAT mean these elephants, arms, warlike store, Et ces vaisseaux trut prests à quitter le rivage ? And all these ships, prepar'd to leave the shore? Disoit au roi Pyrrhus, un sage confident,
Thus Cyncas, faithful, old, experienc'd, wife, Conseiller tres-censé d'un roi tres-imprudent. Address'd king Pyrrhus;-thus the king replies; Je vais, lui dit ce prince, à Rome où l'on m'apelle. 'Tis glory calls us hence; to Rome we go. Quoi faire ? l'alieger. L'entreprise est fort belle, For what ? --To conquer.---Rome's a noble foe, Et digne seulement d'Alexandre ou de vous, A prize for Alexander fit, or you ; Mais quand nous l'aurons prise, & bien que ferons. But Rome reduc'd, what next, Sir, will you do? nous ?
The rest of Italy my chains shall wear. Du reste des Latins la conqueste este facile. And is that all ?-No, Sicily lies. near; Sans doute, ils sont à nous : est-ce tout ? La Sicilc See how she stretches out her beauteous arms, Delà nous tend les bras et bien-toft fans effort And tempts the victor with unguarded charms ! Syracuse recoit nos vaisseaux dans son port. In Syracusa's port this fleet shall ride. En demeurés-vous là ? Dés que nous l'aurons prise, 'Tis well—and there you will at last abide ? Il ne faut qu'un bon vent et Carthage est conquise: No; that subdued, again we'll hoist our fails, Les chemins sont ouverts : qui peut nous arrester? And put to sea; and, blow but prosperous gales, Je vous entene, seigneur, nous allons tout dompter: Carthage must foon be ours, an easy prey, Nous allons traverser les sables de Lybie;
The paffage upen : what obstructs our way?Afservir en passant l'Egypte, l'Arabie;
Then, Sir, your vast design I understand, Courir delà le Gange en de nouveaux païs; To conquer all the carth, cross feas and land, Faire trembler le Scythe aux bords du Tanais; O'er Afric's spacious wilds your reign extend, Et ranger sous nos loix tout ce vaste Hemisphere; Beneath your sword inake proud Arabia bend; Mais de retour enfin, que pretendez-vous faire ? Then feck remoter worlds, where Ganges pours Alors, cher Cineas, vi&orieux, contens,
His swelling stream; beyond Hydaspes' shores,
When we return, say what shall then be done?
IN THE PARK AT ASTED.
PO E M S.
April himself, though in fo fair a dress But sec-what sudden gloom obscures the air ! He clothe the meads, though his delicious showers What falling showers impetuous change the day ! Awake the blossoms and the breathing flowers, Let's rise, my lyre-Ah pleasure false as fair ! And new.create the fragrant year; How faithless are thy charms, how More thy Ray! April himself, or brighter May,
Affitted by the god of day,
Never made your grove so gay,
Or half so full of charms appear.
Whatever rural seat she now doth grace,
And lines a goddess of the plains,
Imperial love new triumphs there ordains, Ye muses, that frequent thesc walks and shades, Renoves with her from place to place, The seat of calm repose,
With her he keeps his court, and where the lives Which Howard's happy genius chose;
he reigns. Where, taughe by you, his lyre he strung,
'A thousand bright attendants more And oft, like Philumel, in dusky glades,
Her glorious equipage conipose : Sweet ainorous voluntaries sung !
There circling pleasure ever flows : O say, ye kind inspiring powers !
Friendship, and arts, a well-felected store, With what melodious Train
Good-humour, wit, and music's soft delight, Will you indulge my pensive veio,
The forten'd ininutes there beguile, And charm my solitary hours?
And sparkling mirth, that cever looks so bright,
As when it lightens io Molinda's smile. Begin, and Echo shall the song repeat;
While, skreen'd from Auguft's feverish beat, Thither, ye guardian powers (if such there are Beneath this spreading exlm I lie,
deputed from the sky And view the yellow harvest for around,
To watch o'er human-kind with friendly care),
If goodness like your own can move
Your constant Zeal, your tenderest lore,
For ever wait on this accomplish'd fair!
Shield her from every ruder breath of air,
Nor let invading sickness come
To blast those beauties in their bloom.
May no misguided choice, no hapless doom,
Disturb the heaven of her fair life
With clouds of grief, or showers of snelting tears;
Let harth unkindness, and urgenernus strife,
Repining discontent, and boding fears,
With every shape of woe be driven away,
Let ghosts prohibited the day.
Let Peace o'er her his dovelike wings display,
And smiling joys crown all her blissful years!
TO MR. CONSTANTINE,
And choose to sooth thee with a sweeter train;
Mulinda's praises shall our skill employ,
And the pleas'd eye its artful course surveys,
A new creation opens to our sight.
There spacious lawns more distant charm the eye;
And niilly hills the fair horizon join,
Like sounds reniote that die in alt away. Say, beavtcous Afted l has thy honour'd shade The peopled prospect various pleasure yields, Ever receiv'd that lovely maid ?
Sheep grace the hills, and herds or livains the fields; Ye nymphs and sylvan deities, confess
Harmonione order o'er the whole présides, That shining festal day of happiness !
And Nature crowns the work, which Judgment For if the lovely maid was here,
ON HIS PAINTINGS.