For hark! the threat'ning winds arise,
Again with clouds obscure the skies,
And tell my baffled hopes, that this
Is an inchanted isle of bliss,
Now in near prospect blooming fair,
And now involv'd in black despair!
My chaise regain'd, I cross the plain, When lo! the sun beams forth again. Hope, gay impostor, points the way, Where, near the road, fair Esher lay; And who at Esher would not stay? I turn'd. Retiring from the town, The noble Owner just came down. I saw the gate behind him close, Then murmur'd at this short repose From cares for Britain's safety shewn, Grudg'd his repose, who guards my own!
I now pursue my former way, And with my journey ends this day Of hope, and fear, and pain, and pleasure, Of all my other days the measure!
Your's a more even tenor know, And scarce perceive an ebb or flow. The cause is plain. To fortune's gale You, cautious, never spread a sail; Safe in your port, content at home, You ne'er for painful pleasure roam,
And think it folly, if not sin,
One night to sojourn at an inn.
Nay, when the Atlas of our state
Throws off for You a nation's weight,
In courtly terms your ear to greet,
And cast himself beneath your feet, —2/9
You (like Egeria) in your grott
Or seek he must, or finds You not.
More cautious still, e'en when retir'd,
By wits nor censur'd, nor admir'd,
You say, (tho' every art your friend)
You dare to no one art pretend.
Your fear is just. Each state and nation
Assigns to woman reputation,
While man asserts his wider claim,
Jealous proprietor of fame.
Yet sure, without offence, You may
On nature's open leaf display
Your harmless unambitious skill,
To sink a grott, or slope a hill,
A dell with flowers adorn, or lead
A winding rill along the mead,
Or bid opposing trees be join'd,
In hospitable league intwin'd,
Without their leave, whose madness dares
Rouze human states to cruel wars; 23
Or, if the Bourbon of the air
Against your feather'd folk declare
Fell war, betake you to th' alliance-
Of net or gun, and bid defiance
To every robber, small or great,
That would disturb your calm retreat.
O may kind heaven propitious smile
On every art that can beguile
A Son's long absence from your sight,
And render back that just delight! 246
From those distracting dire alarms,
That set a jarring world in arms,
From tainted air's infectious breath,
Where flies unseen the dart of death,
His steps, ye Guardian Angels, guide,
And turn the fatal shaft aside!
Return'd, his parent's bliss to crown,
And make, all earth can give, their own,
Like Smithson's, may his manly heart
A&t not the vain, but generous part,
Call drooping art from her recess,
With health, and ease, and fame to bless!
O may, like his, His riper age
With caution tread the civil stage,
Like him, th' enchanted cup put by,
And every vain temptation fly,
Of power, or pension, place, or name,
If meant state-traps, that sink to shame;
Yet his just Prince, without a bribe,
Love-more than all the venal tribe!
But from these themes I now refrain, Reserv'd to grace a future strain. For I have tresspas'd on your time, And see a tedious length of rhyme. What must it then appear to you? Respectful most this short adieu.
MISS A. W.
[A very Young Lady.]
I WOULD tell thee, thou art fair;
But the pleasing tale, I fear,
Might deceive thy tender ear,
Make thee fancy beauty more
Than thou'lt find the faithless store;
Faithless as the dream of night,
Flitting with returning light;
Just as sure as Summer seas,
When behind th' inviting breeze
Storms and thunders loitering wait,
Soon to give the wretch his fate.
Let the Muse then send her song
To thy mind, thy mind yet young,
Yet as pure and free from stain
As the snow driven o'er the plain :
But how nice th' instructive lay!
Yet the Muse has bid me say,
Thou hast ask'd, and she'll obey.
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