He hears the gay and the distressful call,
And with unsparing bounty fills them all.
Observe the rifing lily's snowy grace,
Observe the various vegetable race;
They neither toil nor spin, but careless grow,
Yet see how warm they blush! how bright they glow!
What regal vestments can with them compare!
What king so shining! or what queen so fair
If, ceaseless, thus the fowls of heaven he feeds,
If, o'er the fields such lucid robes he spreads,
Will he not care for you, ye Faithless! say,
Is he unwife? or, are ye less than they?
TELL me, thou Soul of her I love!
Ah! tell me, whither art thou fled,
To what delightful world above,
Appointed for the happy dead?
Or doft thou, free, at pleasure, roam,
And fometimes share thy lover's woe,
Where, void of thee, his cheerless home
Can now, alas! no comfort know?
Oh! if thou hover'st round my walk,
While under ev'ry well-known tree
I to thy fancy'd shadow talk,
And every tear is full of thee;
Should then the weary eye of Grief,
Beside some sympathetic stream,
In slumber find a short relief,
Oh! visit thou my foothing dream.
O NIGHTINGALE! best poet of the grove, That plaintive strain can ne'er belong to thee,
Bleft in the full possession of thy love:
O lend that strain, sweet Nightingale! to me.
'Tis mine, alas! to mourn my wretched fate :
I love a maid who all my bofom charms,
Yet lose my days without this lovely mate;
Inhuman Fortune keeps her from my arms.
You, happy Birds! by Nature's fimple laws
Lead your soft lives, fustain'd by Nature's fare;
You dwell wherever roving Fancy draws,
And love and song is all your pleasing care:
But we, vain flaves of intereft and of pride,
Dare not be blest, lest envious tongues should blame;
And hence, in vain, I languish for my bride:
O mourn with me, sweet Bird! my hapless flame.
THE wanton's charms, however bright,
Are like the false illufive light,
Whose flattering unauspicious blaze
To precipices oft' betrays;
But that fweet ray your beauties dart,
Which clears the mind and cleans the heart,
Is like the facred Queen of Night,
Who pours a lovely gentle light
Wide o'er the dark, by wanderers blest,
Conducting them to peace and rest.
A vicious love depraves the mind,
'Tis anguish, guilt, and folly, join'd;
But Seraphina's eyes dispense
A mild and gracious influence;
Such as in visions angels shed
Around the heav'n-illumin'd head,
To love thee, Seraphina! fure
Is to be tender, happy, pure;
'Tis from low passions to escape,
And wooe bright Virtue's fairest shape;
'Tis ecstasy with wisdom join'd,
And heaven infus'd into the mind.
ETHEREAL Race, inhabitants of Air,
Who hymn your God amid the secret grove,
Ye unseen Beings! to my harp repair,
And raise majestic strains, or melt in love.
Those tender notes, how kindly they upbraid! With what foft woe they thrill the lover's heart! Sure from the hand of fome unhappy maid,
Who dy'd of love, these sweet complainings part.
* Æolus's Harp is a musical instrument, which plays with the wind, invented by Mr. Ofwald; its properties are fully defcribed in the Castle of Indolence.
But hark! that strain was of a graver tone,
On the deep ftrings his hand some hermit throws;
Or he the sacred Bard*, who sat alone
In the drear waste, and wept his people's woes.
Such was the song which Zion's children sung, When by Euphrates' stream they made their plaint;
And to fuch fadly folemn notes are strung
Angelic harps, to sooth a dying saint.
Methinks I hear the full celestial choir
Thro' heaven's high dome their awful anthem raise;
Now chanting clear, and now they all confpire
To fwell the lofty hymn from praise to praise.
Let me, ye wand'ring Spirits of the wind!
Who, as wild Fancy prompts you, touch the string,
Smit with your theme, be in your chorus join'd,
For till you ceafse my Muse forgets to fing.
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