Never trade abroad for more,
If fhe faw her native store;

If her inward worth were known,
She might ever live alone.

URA

The Adventurous Mus E.

RANIA takes her morning flight
With an inimitable wing:

Through rifing deluges of dawning light

She cleaves her wondrous way,

She tunes immortal anthems to the growing day; Nor Rapin gives her rules to fly, nor † Purcell notes to fing.

She nor inquires, nor knows, nor fears

[fand

Where lie the pointed rocks, or where th' ingulphing

Climbing the liquid mountains of the skies

She meets defcending angels as she flies,
Nor afks them where their country lies,

Or where the fea-marks ftand.
Touch'd with an empyreal ray

She fprings, unerring, upward to eternal day,
Spreads her white fails aloft, and steers,

With bold and fafe attempt, to the celeftial land.

*A French Critick.

An Erglish master of mufic.

Whilft

Whilft little skiffs along the mortal hores
With humble toil in order creep,
Coafting in fight of one another's oars,
Nor venture through the boundless deep,
Such low pretending fouls are they
Who dwell inclos'd in folid orbs of skull;
Plodding along their fober way,

The fnail o'ertakes them in their wildest play, While the poor labourers fweat to be correctly dull.

Give me the chariot whofe diviner wheels

Mark their own rout, and unconfin'd

Bound o'er the everlasting hills,

And lofe the clouds below, and leave the ftars behind, Give me the Mufe whofe generous force,

Impatient of the reins,

Purfues an unattempted course,

Breaks all the criticks iron chains,

And bears to paradise the raptur’d mind.

There Milton dwells: The mortal fung
Themes not presum'd by mortal tongue;
New terrors, or new glories, fhine
In every page, and flying fcenes divine

Surprize the wondering fenfe, and draw our fouls along.
Behold his Mufe fent out t' explore

The unapparent deep where waves of Chaos roar,
And realms of night unknown before.

She trac'd a glorious path unknown,

Through

Through fields of heavenly war, and feraphs overthrown, Where his adventurous genius led:

Sovereign fhe fram'd a model of her own,

Nor thank'd the living nor the dead.
The noble hater of degenerate rhyme

Shook off the chains, and built his verse sublime,
A monument too high for coupled founds to climb.
He mourn'd the garden loft below;
(Earth is the scene for tuneful woe)
Now blifs beats high in all his veins,
Now the loft Eden he regains,

Keeps his own air, and triumphs in unrival'd ftrains.

Immortal bard! Thus thy own Raphael fings,
And knows no rule but native fire:

All heaven fits filent, while to his fovereign ftrings
He talks unutterable things;

With graces infinite his untaught fingers rove
Across the golden lyre :

From every note devotion springs.
Rapture, and harmony, and love,
O'erfpread the liftening choir.

Το

To Mr. NICHOLAS CLARK.

THE COMPLAINT.

"TWAS in a vale where ofiers grow

By murmuring streams we told our woe,
And mingled all our cares :

Friendship fat pleas'd in both our eyes,
In both the weeping dews arise,
And drop alternate tears.

The vigorous monarch of the day
Now mounting half his morning way
Shone with a fainter bright;
Still fickening, and decaying still,
Dimly he wander'd up the hill,
With his expiring light.

In dark eclipse his chariot roll'd,
The queen of night obfcur'd his gold
Behind her fable wheels;

Nature grew fad to lofe the day,
The flowery vales in mourning lay,
İn mourning stood the hills.

Such are our forrows, Clark, I cry'd,
Clouds of the brain grow black, and hide

Our darken'd fouls behind;

In the young morning of our years
Distempering fogs have climb'd the spheres,
And choke the labouring mind.
P

Loj

Lo, the gay planet rears his head,
And overlooks the lofty fhade,

New-brightening all the skies :

But fay, dear partner of my moan,
When will our long eclipse be gone,
Or when our funs arise ?

In vain are potent herbs apply'd,
Harmonious founds in vain have try'd
To make the darkness fly:

But drugs would raise the dead as foon,
Or clattering brafs relieve the moon,
When fainting in the sky.

Some friendly fpirit from above,
Born of the light, and nurst with love,

Affift our feebler fires:

Force thefe invading glooms away;
Souls fhould be feen quite through their clay,
Bright as your heavenly choirs.

But if the fogs muft damp the flame,
Gently, kind death, diffolve our frame,
Release the prifoner-mind :

Our fouls fhall mount, at thy discharge,
To their bright fource, and shine at large
Nor clouded, nor confin'd.

The