In the bleak wild ev'n Want by thee is bless’d, 15
And pamper'd Pride without thee pines for reft.
The rich grow richer, while in thee they find
The matchless treasure of a smiling mind.
Science by thee flows foft in social ease,
And virtue, lofing rigour, learns to please.

The goddess summons each illustrious name,
Bids the gay talk, and forms th’amusive game.
She, whose fair throne is fix'd in human souls,
From joy to joy her eye delighted rolls.
But where (the cried) is she, my favorite ! the 25
Of all my race, the deareft far to me!
Whose life's the life of each refin'd delight?
She said--But no Tyrconnel glads her fight.
Swift sunk her laughing eyes in languid fear;
Swift rose the swelling ligh, and trembling tear.
In kind low murmurs all the loss deplore !
Tyrconnel droops, and pleasure is no more.

The goddess, filent, paus’d in museful air ; But Mirth, like Virtue, cannot long despair. Celestial-hinted thoughts gay hope inspird, 35 Smiling she rose, and all with hope were fir'd. Where Bath's ascending turrets meet her eyes ; Straight wafted on the repid breeze fe flies, She flies, her elder sister Health to find; She finds her on the mountain-brow reclin'd.

40 Around her birds in earliest concert fing; Her cheek the semblance of the kindling spring i Fresh-tinctur'd like a summer-evening sky, And a mild sun lits smiling in her eye.

Loose

30 Loose to the wind her verdant vestments flow;

45 Her limbs yet-recent from the springs below; There oft the bathes, then peaceful sits secure, Where every gale is fragrant, frelh, and pure ; Where flowers and herbs their cordial odours blend, And all their balmy virtues fast ascend.

50 Hail, fister, hail ! (the kindred goddess cries) No common suppliant stands before your eyes. You, with whose living breath the morn is fraught, Flush the fair cheek, and point the cheerful thought! Strength, vigour, wit, depriv'd of thee, decline !

55 Each finer sense, that forms delight, is thine ! Bright suns by thee diffuse a brighter blaze, And the frelha green a fresher green displays ! Without thee pleasures die, or dully cloy, And life with thee, howe'er depress’d, is joy. 60 Such thy vast power!—The deity replies. Mirth never asks a boon, which Health denies, Our mingled gifts transcend imperial wealth; Health strengthens Mirth, and Mirth inspirits Health. These gales, yon springs, herbs, flowers, and sun, are

niine;
Thine is their smile! be all their influence thine.

Euphrolyne rejoins-Thy friendship prove!
See the dear, sickening object of my love !
Shall that warm heart, so cheerful ev’n in pain,
So-form'd to please, unpleas'd itself remain ?

70 Sister! in her my smile anew display, And all the social world fall bless thy sway.

Swift,

65

75

85

Swift, as the speaks, Health spreads the purple

wing, Soars in the colour'd clouds, and sheds the spring : Now bland and sweet she floats along in air; Air feels, and softening own th’eethereal fair! In still descent the melts on opening flowers, And deep impregnates plants with genial showers, The genial showers, new-rising to the ray, Exhale in roseate clouds, and glad the day, 80 Now in a zephyr's borrow'd voice she fings, Sweeps the fresh dews, and shakes them from her wings, Shakes them embalm’d; or, in a gentle kiss, Breathes the sure earnest of awakening bliss. Sapphiia feels it, with a soft surprize, Glide through her veins, and quicken in her eyes !

Instant in her own form the goddess glows, Where, bubbling warm, the mineral water flows; Then, plunging, to the flood new virtue gives; Steeps every charm; and, as she bathes, it lives ! 90 As from her locks she sheds the vital shower, 'Tis done! (she cries) these springs posess my power! Let these immediate to thy darling roll Health, vigour, life, and gay-returning soul. Thou smil'st Euphrolyne; and conscious fee, 95 Prompt to thy smile, how Nature joys with thee. All is green life! all beauty rosy-bright; Full Harmony, young Love, and dear Delight! See vernal Hours lead circling Joys along ! All sun, all bloom, all fragrance, and all song! 100

Receive

Receive thy care! Now Mirth and Health combine. Each heart shall gladden, and each virtue shine. Quick to Augusta bear thy prize away; There let her smile, and bid a world be gay.

AN

E PIS

Ρ Ι T L E

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

SIR ROBERT WALPOLE.

STIL

TILL let low wits, who sense nor honour prize,

Sneer at all gratitude, all truth disguise; Ai living worth, because alive, exclaim, Insult the exil'd, and the dead defame! Such paint, what pity veils in private woes, 5 And what we see with grief, with mirth expose ; Studious to urge-(whom will mean authors spare ?) The child's, the parent's, and the consort's tear: Unconscious of what pangs the heart may rend, To lose what they have ne'er deferv’da friend. 10 Such, ignorant of facts, invent, relate, "Expos’d persit, and answer'd still debate :

Such,

a

Such, but by foils, the cleareft lustre see,
And deem aspersing others, praising thee.
Far from these tracks my honest lays aspire, 15
And greet a generous heart with generous fire.
Truth be my guide! Truth, which thy virtue claims!
This, nor the poet, nor the patron Thames !
When party-minds shall lose contracted views,
And history question the recording Muse;
'Tis this alone to after-times must fine,
And stamp the poet and his theme divine.

Long has my Muse, from many a mournful cause,
Sung with small power, nor fought sublime applause;
From that great point she now shall urge her scope; 25
On that fair promile reft her future hope;
Where policy, from state-illusion clear,
Can through an open aspect shine sincere;
Where Science, Law, and Liberty depend,
And own the patron, patriot, and the friend ; 30
(That breast to feel, that eye on worth to gaze,
That smile to cherish, and that hand to raise!)
Whose best of hearts her best of thoughts inflames
Whose joy is bounty, and whose gift is fame.
Where, for relief, fies Innocence distress'd ?

35
To you, who chace oppression from th'oppressid:
Who, when complaint to you alone belongs,
Forgive your own, though not a people's wrongs ::
Who still make public property your care,
And thence bid private grief no more despair. 40

Alk they what state your sheltering care shall own?
Tis youth, 'tis age, the cottage, and the throne :

Nor