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O'er the gay scene Lh* enamour'd inmates roam:

And gather fresh ideas as they rise

From Nature's manifold supplies. Alas: for whom! iflany a gleam of sprightly thought,

]V:.any a sad and sable mood.
Whether from dazzling lustre brought,

Or nursed by shades of darksome wood,
Feep death-like silence on their native shore,
Since he that gave them speech, is heard no more.

Flown is the spirit of Gray,
Like common breath to mingle with the air:
Yet still those Goddesses* peculiar care,

That breathe harmonious lay.
Retired to yonder grassy mound
In leaves of dusky hue encompass'd round,

They bid their plaintive accents (ill

The covert hollows of the bosom'd hill:'

With liquid voice and magic hand

Calliope informs the band: Hush'd are the warblers of the grove, attentive tOthe sound*

'Soft and slow
Let the melting "measures flow,
Nor lighter air disturb majestic woe.

And thou, sage Priestess* of our holy fire,

Who saw'st the Poet's flame expire.

Thy precious drops profusely shed

O'er his well-deserving head.

Thou nurtur'dst once a grateful throng,

When Milton pourd the sweets of song,
On Lycidas sunk low.

• Cambridge University, where Graj died.

'Now wake the faithful lyre mute Dulnessreigns:

Your echoes waft no more the friendly theme:
Clogg'd with thick vapours from the neighboring plains,
Where old Cam hardly moves his sluggard stream.
But when some public cause
Claims festive song or more melodious tear,
Discordant murmurs grate mine ear.
Ne'er modell'd by Pierian laws,
Then idly glares full many a motley toy,
Anacreontic grief, and creeping strains of joy.
* Far other modes were thine,
Victim of hasty fate,
Whom now the powers of melody deplore;
Whftther in lofty state*
Thou bad'st thy train divine
Of raptures on Pindaric pinions soar:
Or hoping from thyself to fly

To childhood's careless scenes/
Thou seni'st a warm refreshing eye
On Nature's faded greens:
* Or when thy calm and steadfast mind

WTith philosophic reach profound
Self pleasing vanities resign'd,

Fond of the look, that loves the ground ; \
Discern'd by Reason's equal light,
How gaudy Fortune cheats the sight;
While the coarse maid, innured to pain,
Supports the lab'ring heart, and Virtue's happiest reign

* But most the music of thy plantive moan$
With lengthened note detains the listening ear,

As lost in thought thou wander'st all alone

Where spirits hover round their mansions drear*

* Sic 0<ty%> P'inlario Oilei,

1 Ode on a di-uui y ospect of Kton College.

J Hyuui »o Advers ty. i Church-yard Eiejrj.

'By Contemplation's eye serenely view'd,

Each lowiy object wears an awful mien: Tis our own bi-ndness veils the latent good:

The works ot Nature need but to be seen. *1hou sav/st hci oeaming from the hamlet-sires

Beneath those rugged elms, that yew tree's shade z Where now. still faithful to their wonted Jire&,*

Thy own dear ashes. &refor ever laid.'

STANZAS

ON THE DEATH OF MR. GRAY.

By a Lady.

WHERE sleeps the Bard who graced Museus' hearse

With fragrant trophies by the Muses wove! Shall Grny'scold urn in vain demand the verse,

Oh ! can his Mason fail in plaintive love? No; with the Nine inwrapp'd in social woe,

His lyre unstrung, sad vigil he must keep; With them he mourns, with them his eyes o'erflow,

For such a Bard immortal Maida can weep.
Their early pupil in the heav'nly lore

Of sacred poesy and moral song,
They taught the youth on eagle wing to soar,

And bore him through aerial heights along.
Fancy, obedient to the dread command,

With brilliant Genius, marshall'd forth his way: They lured his steps to Cambria's once-famed land,

And sleeping Druids felt his magic lay. But vain the magic lay, the warbling lyre,

Imperious Death! from thy fell grasp to save; He knew, and told it with a Poet's tire,

'The paths of glow lead but to the grave.'

* Gray was buried at Stoke, the scene of the Elegy*

G %

And shall the Bard, whoso sympathizing mind

MournM o'er the simple rustic's turfy cell,
To strew his tomb no grateful mourner find,

No village swain to ring one parting kneli I
Yes, honour'd shade! the fringed brook I'll trace,

Green rushes culling thy dank grave to strew; With mountain flow'rs I'll deck the hallow'd place,

And fence it round with osiers mix'd with yew.

THE TEARS OF GENIUS*

AN ODE.
By Mr. Taite.
On Cam's fair banks, where Learning's hallo*

Majestic rises on the astonish'd sight,
Where oft the Muse has led the favourite swaij

And warm'd his soul with Heaven's inspiring ig Beneath the covert of the sylvan shade,

Where deadly cypress, mix'd with mournful ye Far o'er the vale a gloomy stillness spread,

Celestial Genius burst upon the view. The bloom of youth, the majesty of years,

The soften'd aspect, innocent and kind, The sigh of sorrow, and the streaming tears,

Resistless all, their various pow'r combined. In her fair hand a silver harp she bore,

Whose magic notes, soft-warbling from the string, Give tranquil joy the breast ne'er knew before,

Or raise the soul on rapture's airy wing. By grief impell'd, I heard her heave a sigh, While thus the rapid strain resounded through the sky;

Haste, ye sister powers of song,
Hasten from the shadv grove,
Where the river rolls along,

Sweetly to the voice of love.
Where, indulging mirthful pleasures,

Light you press che flow'ry green,
And from Flora's blooming treasures

Cull the wreaths for Fancy's queen.
Where your gently-flowing numbers,

Floating on the fragrant breeze,
Sink the soul in pleasing slumbers
On the downy bed of ease.
For graver strains prepare the plantive lyre,

That wakes the softest feelings of the soul;
Let lonely Grief the melting verse inspire,
Let deep'ning Sorrow's solemn accents roll.
Rack'd by the hand of rude Disease

Behold our fav'rite Poet lies!
While eyery object form'd to please

Far from his couch ungrateful flies.
The blissful Muse, whose favouring smile

So lately warm'd his peaceful breast,
Diffusing heavenly joys the while,

In Transport's radiant garments drest,
With darksome grandeur and enfeebled blaze,
Sinks in the shades of nigiit, and shuns his eager gaze.
The gaudy train, who wait on Spring,*

Tinged with the pomp of vernal pride, The youths who mount on Pleasure's wing,f And idly sport on Thames's side, With cool regard their various arts employ, Nor rouse the drooping mind, nor give the pause of joy,

t Ode oa the I'r"sj.^ci of Eum College.

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