tCCt^ )»!Lf'^,'!i?^^^i THE WILLIAM R. PERKINS LIBRARY OF DUKE UNIVERSITY Rare Books ESSAYS O N SONG-WRITING: WITH A COLLECTION of such ENGLISH SONGS AS ARE MOST EMINENT FOR POETICAL MERIT. TO WHICH ARE ADDED, SOME ORIGINAL PIECES. Nee, fi quid oHm lufit Anacreon Delevit aetas j fpirat adhuc amor, Vivuntque commifTi calores ^olise fidibus puellge, HoRAT. LONDON*. Printed for Joseph Johnson, No. 72, St. Paul's Church-Yard. PREFACE. ^^iV converftng with a few of yny friends I B who were lovers of poetry^ I have frequently joined them in lamenting that the number of .excellent fongs which our language afforded^ were fo difperfed through a variety of authors^ or overwhelmed in in- judicious colle^ions^ that it was a tnojl diffi- cult matter to difcover arhd enjoy the riches of this kind which we pojfefjed. JVe ohferved that every colle5lion of fongs ^ i^thout exjception^ was degraded by dullnefs^ or debafed by inde- cency ; and that fong-writing fcarcely feemed in any of them to be confidered as a pleafing fpecies of poetical cofnpofition^ but merely as a 2 ferving iv PREFACE. ferving for the conveyance of fome favourite times. We were concerned to find that the more modern any collection was^ it was remarkably the more deficient in poetical merit ; fo that a total decay of all tafte for genuine poetry^ in this pie afi'ng branch of it^ was to be appre- hetided, This we in great meafiire attributed to the fafhionahle rage for mufic^ which had encouraged fuch a mufhroom growth y advice i6o Celia, hoard thy charms no more 235 Cell a, too late you would repent ^38 Chloe bvilk and gay appears Z3Z Chloe's the wonder of her fex 230 Chloris, yourfelf you 'fo excel 254 Come all ye youths whofe hearts e'er bled 145 Come little infant love me now 243 Come fhepherds we'll follow the hearfe 102 Corinfta coft me many a prayer 220 Cupid inftrudl an amorous fwain 226 Cynthia frowns whene'er I woe her 208 DAMON if you will believe me ,214 Daphnis ftood penfive in the fhade 66 Dear Chloe while thus beyond meafure 168 Dear Colin prevent my warm bluflies 217 Defpairing befide a clear flream 69 FAIR Amoret is gone aftray aio Fair and foft and gay and young 154 Far in the windings of a vale 82 Fly thoughtlefs youth, th' enchantrefs fly 142 Forever fortune wilt thou prove 165 From all uneafy paflions free 141 From place to place forlorn I go 153 GENTLE air thou breath of lovers 245 Good madam, when ladies are willing 218 Go tell Aminta gentle fwain 1 16 HAIL H TABLE OF FIRST LINES. jc'lii Page AIL to the myrtle fliade , i^^ IF wine and mufic have the power 120 In Chloris all foft charms agree 2H In vain dear Chloe you fuggeft i:;8 In vain you tell your parting lover 1 1? I tell tliee Charmion could i time retrieve 21:5 It is not Celia in our power 207 It was a Friar of orders gray 41 LATE wlien love I feem\l to flight a^g Let not love on me beftow 216 Let the ambitious favour find iij-o Love and folly were at play 224 Love's a dream of mighty trcafure 227 Love's but the frailty of the mind 209 MISTAKEN fair lay Sherlock by 229 Mortals learn your lives to meafure a6r My banks they are furniflvd with bees 94 My dear miftrefs has a heart I39 My love was fickle once aftd changing 2135 N O OT Celia that I juftcr am 20& Now fee my Goddefs earthly bora 139 ER moorlands and mountains rude barren and bare 90 Of Leinfler fam'd for maidens fair 55 Oft Slv TABLE OF FIRST LINES. Pagd Oft on the troubled ocean's face ' i^i Oh turn away thofe cruel eyes z^i On a bank befide a willow j^g O Nancy wilt thou go with me 1^2 On Belvidera's bofom lying 203 PREPARED to rail refolv'd to part 144 Purfuing beauty men defcry 2^0 SAY lovely dream where couldft thou find 242 Say not Olinda I defpife 167 She loves and fhe confeffes too 246 Should fome perverfe malignant ftar 259 Stella and Flavla every hour 251 Strephon has fafhion wit and youth 255 Strephon when you fee me fly 126 Swain thy hopelefs paflion fmother 22 5^ TELL me no more I am decelv'd 228 Tell me not I my time mifpend 163 Tell my Strephon that I die 1 5a The heavy hours are almoft paft 1 1 9 The merchant to fecure his treafure 234 There is one dark and fuUen hour 153 The fun was funk beneath the hill 78 The weflern (ky was purpled o'er 87 Tho* cruel you feem to my pain 155 Thy fatal fliaits unerring move 1 14 'Tis not the liquid brightnefs of thofe eyes 131 'Tis now fmce I fat down befofe 247 To TABLE OF FIRST LINES. xv Pags To fair Fidele's grafly tomb 149 Too plain dear youth thofe tell-tale eyes 124 To the brook and the willow that heard him complain . 147 Turn, gentle hermit of the dale 4.J 'Twas when the feas were roaring fie V AIN are the charms of white and red *ll WAFT me fome foft and cooling breeze 134 What beauties does Flora difclofc 80 What ! put off with one denial 215 When all was wrapt in dark midnight 59 When charming Teraminta fmgs x^g When Delia on the plain appear* 12 r When firft I faw Lucinda's face 2Cj When firft I faw thee graceful move i^g When firft I fought fair Celia's love 2x0 When here Lucinda firft we cahie j^o When lovely woman ftoops to folly ict When Orpheus went down to the regions beJow 230 When Sappho tun'd the raptur'd ftrain j^j When your beauty appears x^g While in the bower with beauty bleft 136 While monarchs in ftern battle ftrove yo W^y cruel creature, why fo ben; ,64 Why we love and why we hate 2,1^ Why will Florella while I gaze 26c Why will you my paflion reprove g-j Wine, wine in the morning ^^7 YE XVI TABLE OF FIRST LINES. Page YE happy fwains whofe hearts are free 157 Ye little loves that round her wait 223 Yes, faireft proof of beauty's power 3 1 7 Yes, Fulvia is like Venus fair 21Z Ye Shepherds give ear to my lay 99 Ye fliepherds fo chearful and gay 91 Yes, I'm in love, I feel it now 222 Ye virgin powers defend my heart 127 Young I am and yet unlkill'd 166 A. Page 70, line 1 3, for maiden read hcauty. Page 82, line 14, for flam read plains. Page 96, line ult. for there read their. Page 113, line 10, for tranfports read tranfport. Page 114, line 2, for fudden read fubtle. Page 151, line 9, for lo-vely read lonely. P. 198, and following throughout the French fongs, for ceur r, caeur. Page 199, line 10, for la read le. lb. line 1 1, for petites read peths. Page 200, line 1 5, for D'«?z read D''une. Page 201, line 4, for perdrirex recid perderiem, lb. line n, for petites rezdpctits. lb. line la. for ia read le. I. ESSAY O N SONG -WRITING IN GENERAL. WHILE the two capital fpecies of poetry, the epic and dra- matic, have long engaged the niceft attention of tafte and critic ifm, the humbler but not lefs pleafing produdlions of the mufe have not obtained that notice from the critic to which the exertions of the poet would feem to entitle them. This will appear the more extraordinary when we refled that fome of the moft excellent produ6lions in the former have been the fpontaneous growth 2 ON SONG-WRITING growth of a rude and uncultivated foily whereas the latter have never flourifhed without acquired richnefs in the fort and the foflering hand of art. This critical negle6t has given rife to uncertainty in the diftindions and irregularity in the compo- fition of moll of the minor clalTes of poetry, and while the long eflablifhed divifions of ode, elegy and epigram are involved in thefe difficulties, it is not a matter of wonder to meet with them in the modern pieces which range under the general title of Songs. Although many of our moil celebrated poets have exercifed their talents in com- pofmg thefe little pieces, and their pleafmg effedt is univerfally known and acknow- ledged, yet have we but one profeffed criticifm on their compofition ; and this, though elegant and ingenious, is both too fliort and too fuperficial to give precifion and IN GENERAL. 3 and accuracy to our ideas on this fubjed. It is contained in a paper of the Guardian written by Mr. Phillips. In attempting the tafk of determining with exacStnefs the nature of fong-writing, and the various diflindlions of which it is fufceptible, together with the Ipecific ex- cellence of each, I find it therefore necef- fary to go far back into the origin of poe- try in general, and to recur to thofe firfl principles exifting in the human mind, which alone can give a firm foundation to our dedudions. The original poetiy of all nations muft have been very much confined to the def- cription of external objeds, and the nar- ration of events. This is a neceffary con- fequence of the barrennefs of infant lan- guage with regard to abftrad ideas, and is confirmed by the remains of antiquity A 2 which 4 ON SONG-WRITING which have reached us. Among a fierce and warlike people conftantly engaged in enterprizes of arms, poetry was folely em- ployed in rehearfing the valorous deeds of their heroes, and the horrid pidures of war and defolation were enlivened by the kindred imagery of whatever nature af- forded of the awful, terrific and ftupen- dous. In happier regions where the mild inhabitants were fuited to the foftnefs and luxury of the climate, the bufmefs of poe- try was to paint the furrounding profufi- on of beautiful objedls, the pleafing inci- dents of a paftoral life, the tender cares and ravilhing delights of love. This paf- fion found as apt a comparifon with the beautiful fcenes of nature, as war and deftrudlion could do with its glooms and horrors. OssiAN and Theocritus will afford compieat inflances of the firft poetry in its two different branches. Mingling ftorms^ IN GENERAL. 5 ftorms, roaring torrents, fwelling oceans, lightning and thunder, paint the dread- ful battle pieces of the Caledonian ; while the murmuring brook, the green meadow, the bleating flocks, the Am- ple fhepherd and his artlefs fair, deck out the rural landfcape of the Gre- cian. Thus heroic and paftoral poetry are at firil formed, confiding chiefly of defcription and imagery. The paflion of military glory in the one, and of love in the other, would indeed add fentiment to the pidure, but even thefe lentiments muft: be expreflfed by a reference to exter- nal objedls. The lover who had fought for natural comparilbns to paint the charms of his miflirefs, mufl: feck for others to ex- prefs the emotions of his mind. He mufl burn with defire and freeze with difdain, rage with the ocean and figh with the ze- phir^ hope muft: enlighten him widi its rays^ i\nd defpair darken him with its A 3 gloom. 6 ON SONG-WRITING gloom. The effedts which the paflions produce upon the body, would alfo prove a happy fource of the defcription of emo- tions. Thus the fluttering pulfe, the changing colour, the feverifh glow, the failing heart and the confufed fenfes, be- ing natural and invariable fymptoms of the pafTion of love, would foon be obferv- ed by the poet, and fuccefsfully ufed to heighten his defcription. Hitherto all is fimple and natural, and poetry fo far from being the art of fi6lion, is the faithful co- pyiil of external objeds and real emotions. But the mind of man cannot long be con- fined within prefcribed limits *, there is an internal eye conftantly ftretching its view beyond the bounds of natural vifion, and fomething new, fomething greater, more beautiful, more excellent, is required to gratify its noble longing. This eye of the mind is the imagination — it peoples the world with new beings, it embodies abftradt IN GENERAL. 7 abftradl ideas, it fuggefts unexpected re- femblances, it creates firft, and then pre- fides over its creation with abfolute fway. Not lefs accurately and philofophically than poetically has our great Shakefpeare defcribed this faculty in the following lines. The poet's eye in a fine phrenzy rolling Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven, And, as imagination bodies forth The form of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to Ihape, and gives to airey nothing A local habitation and a name. The moft efTential differences in poeti- cal compofition may be referred to the circumftance of its turning upon nature or fi6i:ion, and on this will depend its fit- nefs or unfitnefs to produce peculiar ef- feds. In general whatever is defigned to move the paffions cannot be too natural and fimple. It is alfo evident that when A 4 the 8 ON SONG-WRITING the profefTed defign of the poet is to paint the beauties of nature and the rural land- fcape of paftoral life, he muft give as great an air of reality as poflible to his piece, fince an ill imitation necelTarily produces difgufl. On the other hand when the aim is to elevate and furprize, to gratify a love of novelty and the pleaf- ing luxury of indulging the fancy, all the powers of fidion muft be fet at work, and the imagination employed without controul to create new images and difcover uncom- mon refemblances and connexions. To purfue our inftance taken from the paflion of love, the poet who wiihes rather to pleafe and furprize than to move, will ranfack heaven and earth for objedls of brilliant and unufual comparifon with e- very circumftance relating to the pafTion itfelf or its objed. He will not value fen- timent as the real offspring of an emotion, but as fufceptible of ingenious turns, ftriking IN GENERAL. 9 ftriklng contrafls and pleafing allufions. He will not compole from the heart but the head, and will confult his imagination rather than his fenfations. This quality is peculiarly termed wit, and a jufl tafbe for it is never acquired without a confiderable degree of national refinement. Pieces of wit are therefore later in their date than any others. This brief account of the progrefs of poetry in general being premifed, let us proceed to a nearer infpedtion of our fub- jed. In attempting to fix a meaning to the word fong^ the firft idea which flirikes us arifes from its name, fignifying fomething to be fung. We Ihall difcufs this a little at large. The union of mufic with poetry muft appear lo ON SONG-WRITING appear extremely natural. We find it to have taken place univ6rfally in the uncul- tivated flate of all nations, and to have continued partially in the moil refined. In all languages the words exprefling vo- cal mufic have been alfo ufed indifcrimi- nately to fignify poetry ; and though we at prefent confider fuch exprefTions as figura- tive, there is no doubt but they were ori- ginally natural. The facred name oi fong v/as not then proftituted to a fi-iccefTion of unmeaning founds tortured into mufic through the odious pipe of an equivocal mutilated animal ; it was a general term to exprefs all that the filler mufes of poe- try and melody could combine to delight the ear and ravifii the heart. This en- chanting union is now in great meafure difiTolved, yet I will venture to afiTert that it was not poetry but her lefs fentimental companion m^ufic who began the feparati- on. The luxury of artificial harmony, taking IN GENERAL. n taking place of the fimple graces of melo- dy rendered inftrumental mufic chiefly- fought after, and the afTiilance of poetry in confequence unnecefTary. The prefent age is charadlerized by a languid fenfual indolence, averfe even in its pleafures to any thing that requires attention of the mind. The ear inftead of being an ave- nue to the heart, experts to be gratified merely as an organ of fenfe, and the hero- ine, poetry, muft give place to the harlot, mufic. And when the latter has deigned to borrow the vehicle of words, fhe has fhown by her choice that fhe has regarded poetry rather as a burden upon her exerti- ons than an afTiflant. The term fong may therefore be confi- dered in a double fenfe — if the idea of mu- fic prevails, it fignifies no more than a fet of words calculated for adaption to a tune; if poetry be the principal objedl, it is a fpecies 12 ON SONG-WRITING ipecies of poetical compofition regulated by peculiar laws, and fufceptible of a cer- tain definition, ftill however retaining fo much of the mufical idea as to make it an efTential circumflance, that by a regularly returning meafure it be capable of being fet to a tune. ' A SONG as a poetical compofition may be defined, a fhort piece, divided into re- turning portions of meafure, and formed upon a fingle incident, thought or fenti- ment. Under this definition the general fubjed; from which the particular topic is taken is not reftri6ted ; but it has been found that emotions of tendernefs and gaiety are peculiarly adapted to fong- writing. Cuflom therefore has almoft folely confined the general fubjed of fongs to love and wine, and it muft be acknow- ledged that the nature of the compofition, and the afliilance of mufic, contribute to give IN GENERAL. 13 give thefe fubjeds a peculiar air of grace- fulnefs and propriety. A NUMBER of diftindtions have been formed in modern poetry from trifling particularities in the verfification of thefe pieces, fuch as the number of lines com- pofmg a flanza, the repetition of a line at regular diflances, the ordonnance of the rhyme, and the like. The laborious Baron Bielfield, in his elements of univerfal erudition^ has thought it worth while to particularize a great va- riety of thefe difbin6lions in French poetry, fuch as the Sonnet, the Rondeau, the Vau- deville, &c. I cannot but confider thefe petty diverfities as very uneffential to the poetical cliaradler of any compofition ; this curfory mention is therefore all the notice I Ihall beftow on them. If we examine the poetical remains of antiquity^ 14 ON SONG-WRITING antiquity, we Ihall find various examples of pieces which come under the foregoing defcription of a fong. That beautiful re- lique of Sappho, which is well known to the Englifh reader by Mr. Phillips's excel- lent tranflation " Bleft as the immortal Gods is he," &c. is an exad model of fong- writing. The poems of the gay and fprightly Anacreon are almoft all fongs in every refpedl except the meafure, which inftead of being divided into returning flanzas, is uniform. Yet this would not necefTarily difqualify it for mufical adaption, and there is no doubt but they were really fung and accompani- ed with inftrumental mufic. The Odes of Horace contain many beautiful fpeci- mens of the fong compleat in every cir- cumftance. All thefe pieces are handed down to us under the denomination of Lyric poetry, the nature of which, as in- timately IN GENERAL. 15 timately connedled with our fubje^l, it will be proper to examine with fome at- tention. The union of mufic and poetry among the ancients was very ftrid. It would feem that they had no idea of the mufic of founds without words, and they appear feldom or never to have ufed vocal mufic without accompanyment with inflrumen- tal. The lyre was the favourite inftrument for this purpofe, and hence that fpecies of poetry defigned to be fung to mufic ac- quired the denomination of Lyric. Yer we have variety of proof that this term is applied with equal propriety to poetry accompanied with any other inftrument. Horace abounds with fuch inftances — it will be fufficient to refer to his firft ode fi neque tihias Euterpe cohibet, nee Polyhymnia Lefboum refugit tendere barhiton. immedi- t6 ON SONG-WRITING immediately after, to fix the clafs of po^ ets to which he belongs, he fays Quod fi me Lyricis vatibus inferes. To anfwer this purpofe of mufical adap- tion. Lyric poetry has always been in pof- feflion of a variety of meafures, differing indeed greatly among themfelves, but all very diftinguifhable from the ftately regu- lar march of Heroics, and the languid in- equality of elegy. Thus the Anacreon- tic is fmart and lively, the Sapphic tender and melodious, the irregular Pindaric fuit- ed to the fudden changes and unbounded flights of the wild various mufic of the pafTions. Horace affords a fine profufion of regularly returning meafures fuited to all the varieties of mufical exprefTion, many of which one can fcarcely read without falling into a natural mufic. So far Lyric poetry is charaderized by its IN GENERAL. 17 its manner of compofition ; will it alfo ad- mit of a charadter from the nature of its fubjeds ? It has been already obferved that the pieces of Sappho and Anacreon are formed entirely upon gay and amorous topics. A beautiful variety of poems of this call is to be met with in Horace, and he frequently mentions the peculiar fuit- ablenefs of them to the Lyric mufe. Thus Nos convivia, nos praslia virginum Stri6tis in juvenes unguibus acrium Cantamus Nolis longa feras bella Numantia?, Nee dirum Hannibalem, nee Siculum mare Pseno purpureum fanguine, mollibus Aptari citharas modis. Non hoc jocofae conveniet lyrse. Quo Mufa tendis ? defme pervicax Referre fermones Deorum, et Magna modis tenuare parvis, B But i8 ON SONG-WRITING But what muft we think of thefe deck- rations when he nobly breaks out " Quem- virum aut heroa," &c. when he undertakes with fuch fuccefs to fing the great adlions of Auguftus, the praifes of Drufus, and the poetical charader of Pindar, with Pindar's own fire and fublimity ? In that beautiful ode, the 9th of the 4th book, where he fketches out the Grecian bards,, his predeceflbrs in Lyric poetry, we find the Ceasque, Alceique minaces Stefichorique graves Camen^e, as well as the wanton gaiety of Anacreort and the amorous foftnefs of the Leibian maid. One of the oldeft pieces of Greci- an Lyric poetry extant, is a heroic ode fung by the Athenians at their public feafts in commemoration of Harmodius and Ariftogiton. The odes of Pindar ce- lebrate IN GENERAL. 19 febrate the vidlors at the Olympic games, and the hymns of Callimachus rife to the praifes of the Gods. From thefe instances it appears that Lyric poetry does not admit of any diftin- guifhing charadleriftic from its fubjedl, but merely from the circumftance of its accompanyment with mufic : thus Horace briefly defines it " verba focianda chordis." But this circumftance will in fome meafure influence the choice of a fubjedt, as it is evident that long continued narration, the didadic part of any art or fcience, and fa- tire, are not fuitable topics for a fpecies of poetry which above all others is calcu- lated to pleafe, elevate and furprize. If we now compare the idea here given of Lyric poetry, with what was before obferved concerning fong-writing, it will plainly appear that the latter is one branch B 2 oi 20 ON SONG-WRITING of the former; that, to wit, which in its fubjedl is confined to gaiety and tender- nefs, or, to exprefs it claflically, the Sapphic and Anacreontic. The graver and fublimer flrains of the Lyric mufe are exemplified in the modern ode, a fpe- cies of compofition which admits of the boldeft flights of poetical enthufiafm, and the wildefl creations of the imagination, and requires the afliflance of every figure that can adorn language, and raife it above its ordinary pitch. Critics have very commonly lamented that the moderns fall ihort of the antients more particularly in this fpecies of poetry than in any other ; yet, did it belong to my prefent fubjedt, I fhould not defpair of convincing an impartial reader, that the Engliih names of Dryden, Gray, Akenfide, Mafon, Collins, Warton, are not inferior in real poetical elevation to the moft re- nowned IN GENERAL, 21 nowned Grecian or Roman which antiquity can produce. The modern ode and the fong are in general diftinguifhable by their fubjed:, by the different degree of elevati- on and ornament in the language, and by a greater length and irregularity in the meafure of the former, which is not adapt- ed to vocal mufic. Yet as thefe diftindli- ons are rather relative than abfolute, it is eafy to fee that they may approach each others limits fo as to render it dubious un- der which clafs they range, which would be the cafe with many of Horace's odes if converted to Englilh poems. We are now prepared to make ufe of the general dedudion of the progrefs of the mind through the different ftages of poeti- cal compofition, formerly attempted, in forming an arrangement of fongs into a few diftind clafles. B 3 The 22 ON SONG-WRITING The rude original paftoral poetry of our country furnifhes the firft clafs ia the popular pieces called ballads. Thefe confift of the village tale, the dialogue of ruflic courtlhip, the delcription of natural objedts, and the incidents of a rural life. Their language is the language of nature, fimple and unadorned ; their ftory is not the wild offspring of fancy, but the pro- bable adventure of the cottage -, and their fentiments are the unftudied expreffions of pafTions and emotions common to all man- kind. Nature, further refined, but flill na- ture, gives the fecond clafs of pieces con> taining the fentimental part of the former, abftraded from the tale and rural land- fcape, and improved by a more ftudied obfervation of the internal feelings of paf- fion and their external fymptoms. It is the natural philofophy of the mind, and the IN GENERAL. 23 the defcription of fenfations. Here love appears in all its various forms of defire, doubt, jealoufy, hope, defpair-, and fug- gefts a language, rich, Itrong, and figu- rative. This is what may ilri6tly be call- ed the pathetic in poetry. The third clafs is formed upon an arti- ficial turn of thinking, and the operation of the fancy. Here the fentiments arife from cool reflexion and curious fpeculation, ra- ther than from a prefent emotion. They accordingly require enlivening by ingenious comparifon, ftriking contraft, unexpedled turns, a climax finifhing in a point, and all the pleafmg refinements of art which give the denomination of ingenious and Avitty to our conceptions. Some efTential diftindlions will appear in this clafs arifmg from the various kinds of wit ; but they all agree in the circumflance of fpringing rather from fancy than palTion, and con- B 4 fcquently 24 ON SONG-WRITING fequently of exciting pleafure and furprize rather than the fympathetic emotions. It is obfervable that it is this clafs alone which anfwers the idea Mr. PhilHps gives of fong-writing in his little efiay; and hence he has been betrayed into a lit- tle inconfiftency -, for while he compares fong-writing in general to the gay and a- morous fpecies of antient Lyric poetiy, he refers us to the French fongs as examples of perfedlion, which are almoft folely of the witty and ingenious kind, and totally different from moil of the remains of an- tiquity. In particular the little epigram- matic fong which he there cites and tranf- lates, is fo entirely difTimilar to the cele- brated piece of Sappho which he has fo happily made his own, that it is wonder- ful the diftindtion did not ftrike him. I SHALL juft further remark with regard to IN GENERAL, 25 to the propofed arrangement of our col- ledtion, that y^hQn genius is left to itfelf without fixed laws to condudt it, each dif- ferent fpecies of writing is fo apt by im- perceptible gradations to flide into the next in kindred, that it is frequently impofTible for the critic to preferve his clafTes pure and free from mixture, without a too fcrupulous rejedlion of pieces really beau- tiful though fomewhat faulty in regulari- ty. The reader will eafily perceive, and I hope make proper allowances for feveral inftances of equivocal arrangement, which from this qaufe I have not been able to avoid, 11. 26 ON BALLADS AND II. ESSAY O N BALLADS AND PASTORAL SONGS. THE ballad may be confidered as the native fpecies of poetry of this coun- try. It very exadlly anfwers the idea formerly given of original poetry, being the rude uncultivated verfe in which the popular tale of the times was recorded. As PASTORAL SONGS. 27 As our anceflors partook of the fierce warlike charadter of the northern nations, the fubjedls of their poetry would chiefly confifl of the martial exploits of their he- roes, and the military events of national hiftory, deeply tindlured with that paffion for the marvellous, and that fuperftitious credulity, which always attend a ftate of ig- norance and barbarifm. Many of the an- tient ballads have bee^i tranfmitted to the prefent times, and in them the character of the nation difplays itfelf in flriking colours. The boaftful hiftory of her vidlories, tlie prowefs of her favourite kings and cap- tains, and the wonderful adventures of the legendary faint and knight errant, are the topics of the rough rhyme and unadorned narration which was ever the delight of the vulgar, and is now an objed of curio- fity to the antiquarian and man of tafte. As it is not my defign to colled pieces of this fort, which is already done in a very elegant 28 ON BALLADS AND elegant manner by Mr. Percy in his Reli- ques of antient Englijh poetry^ I fhall pro- ceed to confider the ballad more as an ar- tificial than a natural fpecies of compofi- tion. When language became refined, and poetical tafle elevated, by an acquaintance with the Greek and Latin authors, the fubjedls of the Epic mufe were no longer dreil in the homely garb of the popular ballad, but afTumed the borrowed orna- ment and {lately air of heroic poetry, and every poetical attempt in the fublime and beautiful cafl was an imitation of the claf- fic models. The native poetry of the country was referved merely for the hu- morous and burlefque, and the term bal- lad was brought by cuftom to fignify, a comic ftory, told in low familiar language, and accompanied with a droll trivial tune. It was much ufed by the wits of the time as PASTORAL SONGS. 29 as a vehicle for laughable ridicule, and mirthful fatire, and a great variety of the moil pleafing fpecimens of this kind of writing is to be found in the ballads of the witty ^ra of Englifh genius, which I take to be comprehended between the begin- ning of Charles the Second's reign, and the times of Swift and Prior. Since that period the genius of the age has chiefly been characterized by the corred, eleo-ant and tender; and a real or afFeded tafle for beautiful fimplicity has almofl univerfally prevailed. This has produced feveral imi- tations of th^ antient ballad as a ferious compofition, turned however in its general fubjed from the ftory of martial adventure to the pathetic tale of the peaceful village. It is a juft tafle, founded upon real obfer- vation of nature, which enjoins fimplicity of expreflion in every attempt to engage die fympathetic em.otions -, v/e have many delightful examples of its fuccefs, and I hope so ON BALLADS AND hope in this colledion to prove by fome powerful appeals to the heart, how fweetly the antient ballad, judicioufly imitated, is adapted to this purpofe. A delicate fenfe of propriety, and nice judgment are required to condudl the plan of fimplicity in fuch a manner as to retain all its beauties without fmking into infipidity or difguftful vulga- rity. In general, we fhould aim at it ra- ther by dropping all ornament and glitter, than by putting on an affedled rullicity, and making ufe of antiquated expreflions. We fhould be particularly careful that fimplicity reigns in the thoughts as well as the language, a very efTential piece of uni- formity, which yet fome writers of eminence have not always obferved. If the piece be narrative, fuch circumilances of the ftory as tell it in the moft ftriking manner are to be held out to view, and their effed is not to be interrupted by fimile or meta- phor, or any of the artificial prettinefTes of language PASTORAL SONGS. 31 language that may fall in the way. They have no bufinefs here; they do not accord with that firing of the foul which is here to be llruck. As it is abfolutely eflential to all imita- tions of the antient ballad, that the flory on which they are founded with all its circumflances and manners lliould be per- fedly natural, and appropriated to our own foil, I cannot include feveral pieces of the paftoral kind under the title of ballads, though very nearly refembling them in point of fimplicity and ftile of compofiti- on. Paftoral poetry is a native of happier climates, where the face of nature, and the manners of the people are widely different from thofe of our northern resi- ons. What is reality on the foft Arcadian and Sicilian plains, is all fidion here; and though by reading we may be fo famili- arized to thefe imaginary fcenes as to ac- quire 32 ON BALLADS AND quire a fort of natural tafte for them, yet, like the fine fruits of the fouth they will never be fo far naturalized to the foil as to flourifh without borrowed warmth and forced culture. The juftice of this obfer- vation is fufficiently proved, by the ill fuc- cefs of thofe attempts in the mixed pafto- ral, where the rude fpeech and rough manners of our Englifh hinds have been engrafted upon the foreign poetical cha- ra6ler of the fhepherd fwain. This gave occafion to Pope's well known ridicule of Phillips ; and it is this incongruity of cha- ra6ler which is the foundation of the bur- lefque in Gay's Jhepherd^s week^ in which fome natural ilrokes of beautiful fimplicity and the real pathetic are defignedly paired in fo odd a manner with humour and pa- rody, that one is at a lofs whether to take it as jeft or earneft — whether to laugh or cry. Indeed this effed is alfo produced in his two dramatic burlefques, the Beg- gar's PASTORAL SONGS. ^^ gar's Opera, and What d'ye call it ; for how ludicrous foever the general charader of the piece may be, when he comes fo near to hanging and fliooting in good earneil, the J3ke ceafcs ; and I have ob- ferved the tolling of St. Pulcre's bell re- ceived by an audience with as much tra- gical attention and fympathetic terror as that in Venice preferved. No attempt to naturalize paftoral poe- try appears to have fucceeded better than Ramfay's Gentle Shepherd : it has a con- fiderable air of reality, and the defcriptive parts, in general, are in the genuine tafte of beautiful fimplicity. Yet the fenti- ments and manners are far from beino; entirely proper to the charadlers, and while fome defcend fo low as to be dif- guftful, others are elevated far beyond nature. The real charadber of a Scottifh or Englifh fhepherd is by much too coarfe C for 34 ON BALLADS AND for poetry. I fufpe6b Ramfay gains a great advantage among us by writing in the Scotch Dialedt : this not being fami- liar to us, and fcarcely underftood, foftens the harfher parts, and gives a kind of fo- reign air that eludes the critic's feverity. Some writers in aiming at a natural fim- plicity of fentiment, have funk into filli- nefs, and have given their characters not only the innocence, but the weaknefs of a child. In that admirable piece of bur- lefque criticifm, the Bathos of Scriblerus, are fome ludicrous inftances of puerility of fentiment and expreflion from Phillips's paftorals, and, I confefs, this fault, to me, appears palpable in a piece which, by be- ing introduced to notice in the Spedator, is univerfally known and admired — I mean the paftoral fong of Colin and Phoebe, There is one point in which a paftoral writer of any country may venture to fol- low jPASTORAL songs. 35 low nature exadlly and with a minute nicety : this is in the fceneiy and defcrip- tion. Natural obje6bs are fcarcely ever difgufting, and there is no country fo un- blelTed as to be unprovided with an ample (lore of beauties, Which muft ever pleafe in an accurate reprefentation, independently on all fafhion or peculiarity of tafle. It is unpardonable in a poet to borrow thele from any fountain but nature herfelf, and hereby he will moll certainly avoid the miflakes and incongruity of imagery, which they are fo apt to fall into who defcribe from ideas gained by reading rather than obfei*vation. The prefervation of propri- ety in this refpe6t is of capital importance in defcription, fmce nothing fo effedually ruins the beauty of pidturefque fceneiy, as the introduction of any circumftance which tends to falfify it. It awakens the mind from her dream of fancy, and the " bafelefs fabric of the vifion" inftantly va- C 2 nifhes 36 ON BALLADS AND nifhes. An ingenious critic has inflanced this fault from Milton's Comus, where in the fpirit's addrefs to Sabrina, after very properly wifhing May thy brimmed waves for this Their full tribute never mifs. Summer's drought or Unged air Never fcorch thy trelTes fair. He adds May thy billows roll afhore The beryl and the golden ore. And here and there thy banks along With groves of myrrh and cinnamon, which have no propriety when applied ta an Englifh river. It gives me pleafure to inftance the oppofite beauty. Michael Drayton, an old Englifli poet> in a paflo- ral PASTORAL SONGS. o,^ •ral fong entitled Dowfabcl (In Mr. Percy's colledion) defcribes his fhepherdefs in the following comparifons. Her features all as frefli above, As is the grafle that grows by Dove, And lyth as lafle of Kent : Her fkin as foft as Lemfler wool. As white as fnow on Peakifh Hull, Or fwanne that fwims in Trent. Pie goes on in the ftory This mayden in a morn betime Went forth, when May was in her prime To get fweet cetywall ; The honey-fuckle, the harlocke. The lily and the lady fmocke. To deck her fummer hall. It is impoflible for defcription to be more lively, or more confidently proper. C 3 That 3? ON BALLADS AND That there is Hill room for novelty in this walk has lately been agreeably fhown in the paftorals of Mr. Smith the land- fcape painter, which, however unequal and deficient in harmony and corredlnefs, have infinitely more merit than Pope's melodious ecchoes of eccho. Mr. Smith's pieces will alfo illuflrate my former re- mark, that the manners and fentiments of our rural vulgar cannot be rendered pleaf- ing fubje6ls for poetry j for where he paints them mod naturally they are leaft agree- able. This then appears to be the rule of tafte for modern pafloral writers — to be general in character and fentiment, but par- ticular in defcription. The poetical fhep- herd and fhepherdefs are characters of great uniformity^ for, the originals having been long extindt, all have copied after the fame models, The pafTion of love is the eternal PASTORAL SONGS. 39 eternal fource of paftoral fentiment, and however various it may be in its nature, all its changes and intricacies mufl furely be at length explored, after it has in fo many ages and countries exercifed the ut- moll abilities of human genius. Nothing therefore remains to produce novelty, but a variation of circumftances, whether relating to the fubjedis of the pafTion, or the accompanying fcenery. The paftoral fong formed upon the ballad model, is capable of being made the moft pleafmg piece of the paftoral kind. The fimplicity of language gives it an air of nature and reality though tlie fidlitious character be entirely kept up-, and throw- ing the fubjedt into a little tale, gives an opportunity of novelty in defcription from the variety of incidents. When the ftory has a tender and mournful turn, the bal- lad-fimplicity has a peculiarly happy ef- C 4 fed. 40 ON BALLADS, &c. fe6l. Perhaps the Englifh alone, of all the moderns, have known how to unite the moil perfed fimplicity with real elegance and poetical exprefTion ; and it is to be hoped we fhall never want tafte to relifh the beauties of this kind that we are pof- fefied of The little colledion of ballads and pafloral longs here offered,! contains fome of the fweeteft flowers of Englifh poetry. BALLADS AND PASTORAL SONGS. IT was a friar of orders gray,* Walk'd f)rtli to tell his beads; And he met with a lady fair. Clad in a pilgrim*s weeds. Now * In the Rdlqucs of ancient "Er.ghjh -poetry Mr. Percy give? us the following ballad, as formed upon a number of de- tached fragments of ancient compofition, which he has attempted to fill up and throw into a little connedcd tale. Though his modefty has induced him to place it among his antique remains, I think it but juftice to him and to my own coUedion to place it here as a veiy judicious and beau- tiful imitation of the ancient ballad j for certainly he has the beft right to it, fmce the merit of the ftory is all his ov/n, and the difficulty of interweaving the few ancient ftanzas into it, and fuiting his own language to them with fuch judgment, was greater than tliat of producing an en- tirely new piece. 42 BALLADS AND Now Chrift thee fave, thou reverend frlar^ I pray thee tell to me. If ever at yon holy fhrine My true love thou did*fl; fee. And how fhould I know your true love From many another one ? O by his cockle hat and ftaff. And by his fandal fhoon. But chiefly by his face and mien. That were fo fair to view ; His flaxen locks that fweetly curPd, And eyne of lovely blue. O lady he*s dead and gone ! Lady he*s dead and gone ! And at his head a green grafs turf. And at his heels a ilone. Within thefe holy cloyfters long He languifliM, and he died. Lamenting of a lady's love. And 'plaining of her pride. Here PASTORAL SONGS. 43 Here bore him barefac'd on his bier Six proper youths and tall. And many a tear bedew'd his grave Within yon kirk-yard wall. And art thou dead, thou gentle youth ! And art thou dead and gone ! And did'ft thou die for love of me ! Break, cruel heart of ftone ! O weep not, lady, weep not fo ; Some ghoftly comfort feek : Let not vain forrow rive thy heart. Nor tears bedew thy cheek. O do not, do not, holy friar, My forrow now reprove ; For I have lofl the fweeteft youth, That e*er won Lady's love. And now, alas ! for thy fad lofs I'll evermore weep and figh ; For thee I only wifli'd to live, For thee I wifh to die. Weep 44 BALLADS AND Weep no more, lady, weep no more. Thy forrow is in vain : For, violets pluck'd the fweeteft Ihowers Will ne'er make grow again. Our joys as winged dreams do fly. Why then fhould (brrow laft ? Since grief but aggravates thy lofs. Grieve not for what is pall. O fay not fo, thou holy friar ; I pray thee, fay not fo : For fince my true-love died for me, 'Tis meet my tears fhould flow. And will he ne'er come again ? Will he ne'er come again ? Ah ! no, he is dead and laid in his grave. For ever to remain. His cheek was redder than the rofe. The com'lieft youth was he : — But he is dead and laid in his grave ; Alas ! and woe is me ! Sigh PASTORAL SONGS. 45 Sigh no more, lady, figh no more. Men were deceivers ever : One foot on Tea and one on land. To one thing conftant never. Had'Il thou been fond, he had been falie. And left thee fad and heavy ; For young men ever were fickle found. Since fummer trees were leafy. Now fay not {o, thou holy friar^ I pray thee fay not fo ; My love he had the truell heart : O he was ever true ! And art thou dead thou much-Iov*d youth, And didfl: thou die for me ? Then farewel home ; for, ever-more A pilgrim I will be. But firft upon my true-love's grave My weary limbs I'll lay. And thrice 1*11 kifs the green-grafs turf. That wraps his breathleis clay. Vet 46 BALLADS AND Yet ftay fair lady ; reft a'X'hile Beneath this cloyfter wall : See through the hawthorn blows the cold windf And drizzly rain doth fall. O flay me not, thou holy friar ; O ftay me not I pray ; No drizzly rain that falls on me. Can wafh my fault away. Yet ftay, fair lady, turn again. And dry thofe pearly tears ; For fee beneath this gown of grey Thy own true-love appears. Here forc'd by grief, and hopelefs love Thefe holy weeds I fought ; And here amid thefe lonely walls To end my days I thought. But haply for my year of grace Is not yet pafs'd away. Might I ftill hope to win thy love, No longer would I ftay. Now PASTORAL SONGS. 47 Now farewel grief, and welcome joy Once more unto my heart ; For lince I have found thee, lovely youth. We never more will part. Percy. TURN, gentle hermit of the dale> And guide my lonely way. To where yon taper cheers the vale. With hofpitable ray. For here forlorn and 1^ I tread, With fainting fteps and flow ; Where v/ilds, immeafurably fpread. Seem lengthening as I go. Forbear, my fon, the hermit cries. To tempt the dangerous gloom ; For yonder phantom only flies To lure thee to thy doom. Here 4? BALLADS AND Here to the houfelefs child of want, My Joor is open ftill ; And tho' my portion is but fcant, I give it with good will. Then turn to-night, and freely fhare Whate'er my cell bellows ; My rufhy couch, and frugal fare. My bleirmg and repofe. No flocks that range the valley free. To flaughter I condemn : Taught by that power that pities me, I learn to pity them. But from the mountain's graffy fide, A guiltlefs feaft I bring ; A fcrip with herbs and fruits fupply'd, And water from the fpring. Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego J For earth-born cares are wrong : Man wants but little here below. Nor wants that little long. Soft PASTORAL SONGS. 49 Soft as the dew from heav*n defcends, His gentle accents fell : The modeft llranger lowly bends, And follows to the cell. Far In a wildernefs obfcure The lonely manfion lay ; A refuge to the neighbouring poor. And flranger led aitray. No llores beneath its humble thatch Required a mafter's care ; The wicket opening with a latch. Received the harmlefs pair. And now when bufy crowds retire To revels or to reft. The iiermit trimm*d his little fire. And cheered his penfive gueft : And fpread his vegetable ftore. And gayly preft, and fmiPd ; And Ikiird in legendary lore. The lingering hours beguiPd. D Around 50 BALLADS AND Around in fym pathetic mirth Its tricks the kitten tries ; The cricket chirrups on the hearth ; The crackling faggot flies. But nothing could a charm impart To footh the ilranger's woe ; For grief was heavy at his heart. And tears began to flow. His rifing cares the hermit fpy'd. With anfwering cares opprefl: : And whence, unhappy youth, he cry^d, The forrows of thy breaft ? From better habitations fpurn'd, Reluftant doft thou rove ; Or grieve for friendfliip unreturn^d. Or unregarded love ? Alas ! the joys that fortune brings. Are trifling and decay ; And thofe who prize the paltry things. More trifling flill than they. And PASTORAL SONGS. 51 And what is friendftiip but a name, A charm that lulls to fleep ; A fhade that follows wealth or fame. But leaves the wretch to weep ? And love is ftill an emptier found. The modern fair one's jeft : On earth unfeen, or only found To warm the turtle's neft. For fhame, fond youth ; thy forrows hufh, And fpurn the fex, he faid : But while he fpoke, a rifmg bluih His love-lorn gueft betray'd. Surpriz'd ! he fees new beauties rife, Swift mantling to the view ; Like colours o*er the morning ikies. As bright, as tranfient too. The bafhful look, the riling breaft. Alternate fpread alarms : The lovely ftranger Hands confeft A maid in all her charms. D z And, 52 BALLADS AND And, ah, forgive a ftranger rude^ A wretch forlorn, flie cry'd ; Whofe feet unhallowed thus intrude Where heaven and you refide. But let a maid thy pity fliare. Whom love has taught to ftray ; Who feeks for reft, but finds defpair Companion of her way. My Father liv'd befide the Tyne, A wealthy Lord was he ; And all his wealth was mark'd for mine. He had but only me. To win me from his tender arms. Unnumbered fuitors came : Who prais*d me for imputed charms. And felt or feign'd a flame. Each hour the mercenary crowd. With richeft prefents ftrove : Among the reft young Edwin bow'd. But never talk'd of love. U PASTORAL SONGS. 5^ In humble fimpleft habit clad. No wealth nor power had he ; Wifdom and worth were all he had. But thefe were all to me. The bloflbm opening to the day, Th« dews of heaven refin'd. Could nought of purity difplay. To emulate his mind. The dew, the bloflbm on the tree. With charms inconftant fhine ; Their charms were his, but woe is me. Their conllancy was mine. For ftill I tryM each fickle art, Importunate and vain ; And while his paflion touched my heart, I triumphed in his pain. Till quite dejeSed with my fcorn. He left me to my pride ; And fought a folitude forlorn. In fccret where he died, D 3 But g4 BALLADS AND But mine the forrow, mine the fault. And well my life Ihall pay ; 1*11 feek the folitude he fought. And ftretch me where he lay. And there forlorn, defpairing, hid, I'll lay me down and die ; 'Twas fo for me that Edwin did. And fo for him will I. Forbid it heiven, the hermit cryM, And clafp'd her to his bread : The wondering fair one turn'd to chide, 'Twas Edwin's felf that preft. Turn, Angelina, ever dear. My charmer, turn to fee. Thy own, thy long-loft Edwin herCj Reftor'd to love and thee. Thus let me hold thee to my heart, And ev'ry care relign : And fhall we never, never part. My life — my all that's mine. No^ PASTORAL SONGS. 55 No, never from this hour to part. We'll live and love fo true ; The figh that rends thy conftant heatt, Shall break thy Edwin's too. Goldsmith. OF Leinfter fam'd for maidens fair. Bright Lucy was the grace; Nor e'er did LifFy's limpid llream Refled a fairer face, 'Till lucklefs love and pining care Impair'd her rofy hue. Her coral lips, her damafk cheeks, And eyes of gloffy blue. Oh ! have you feen the lily pale When beating rains defcend ? So droop'd this flow-confuming maid, Her life now near its end. D4 By 56 BALLADS AND By Lucy warnM, of flattering fwains Take heed, ye eafy fair ! Of vengeance due to broken vows. Ye perjured fwains, beware! Three times all in the dead of night, A bell was heard to ring ; And fhrieking at her window thrice. The raven flapped her wing. Too well the love-lorn maiden knew The folemn-boding found. And thus in dying words befpoke The maidens weeping round* I hear a voice you cannot hear. Which fays I muft not ftay; I fee a hand you cannot fee. Which beckons me away. By a falfe heart, and broken vows. In early youth I die : Was I to blame, becaufe the bride Is twice as rich as I ? Ah, PASTORAL SONGS. 57 Ah, Colin, give not her thy vows. Vows due to me alone ! Nor thou, fond maid, receive his kifs, And think him all thy own ! To-morrow in the church to wed Impatient both prepare : But know, fond maid, and know, falfe man, That Lucy will be there. Then bear my corfc, ye comrades dear. The bridegroom blithe to meet ; He in his wedding-trim fo gay, I in my winding fheet ! She fpoke and dy*d, her corfe was borne. The bridegroom blithe to meet ; He in his wedding-trim fo gay. She in her winding iheet, Oh I what were perjur'd Colin's thoughts? How were thofc nuptials kept ? The bride-men flock'd round Lucy dead. And ail the village wept. Companion, 58 BALLADS AND Cotapaflion, fliame, remorfe, defpair. At once his bofom fwell : The damps of death bedew*d his brows. He fhook, he groan'd, he fell. From the vain bride, a bride no more. The varying crimfon fled ; When, ftretch'd befide her rival's corfc, She faw her huiband dead. He to his Lucy's new-made grave, Convey'd by trembling fwains. One mold with her, beneath one fod, For-ever now remains. Oft at this place the conftant hind And plighted maid are feen : With garlands gay, and true love knots They deck the facred green. But, fwain forfworn, whoe'er thoa art. This hallowed fpot forbear ! B^emember Colin's dreadful fate. And fear to meet him there. TiCKELL, PASTORAL SONGS. 59 WHEN all was wrapt In dark midnight And all were faft afleep, In glided Margaret's grimly ghoft And flood at William's feet. Her face was like an April morn Clad in a wintry cloud. And clay-cold was her lily hand That held her fable Ihroud. So ihali the faireft face appear. When youth and years arc flown ; Such is the robe that kings muil wea* When death has reft their crown. Her bloom was like the fpringing flower That fips the filver dew ; The rofe was budded in her cheek, Juft opening to the view. Bat 6'o BALLADS AND But love had, like the canker worm, Confum'd her early prime; The rofe grew pale and left her cheek. She died before her time. Awake, Ihe cry'd, thy true-love calls Come from her midnight grave ; Now let thy pity hear the maid Thy love refufed to fave. This is the mirk and fearful hour When injured gholls complain ; Now dreary graves give up their dead To haunt the faithlefs fwain. Bethink thee William of thy fault. Thy pledge, and broken oath ; And give me back my maiden vow. And give me back my troth. How could you fay my face was fair. And yet that face forfake ? How could you win my virgin heart, Yet leave that heart to break ? How PASTORAL SONGS. 6i How could you promife love to me, And not that promife keep ? Why did yoa fvvear mine eyes were bright. Yet leave thofe eyes to weep ? How could you fay my lips were fweet, And made the fcarlet pale ? And why did I, young witlefs maid, Believe the flattering tale ? That face alas ! no more is fair, Thofe lips no longer red ; Dark are mine eyes now clofed in death. And ev'ry charm is fled. The hungry worm my fifter is. This winding Iheet I wear. And cold and weary lafts our night Till that laft morn appear. But hark ! the cock has warn'd me hence A long and laft adieu ! Come fee, falfe man, how low flie lies That died for love of you. 62 BALLADS AND Now birds did fing, and morning fmilc And ihew her gliU'ring head ; Pale William fhook in every limb. And raving left his bed. He hied him to the fatal place Where Marg'ret's body lay, And ftretch'd him on the green grafs turf That wrap'd her brcathlefs clay. And thrice he call'd on Margaret's name. And thrice he wept full fore ; Then laid his cheek to the cold earth. And word fpake never more. Mallet. •''nr^WAS when the feas were roaring A With hollow blalls of wind, A damfel lay deploring. All on a rock reclin'd : Wide o'er the foaming billows She caft a wiihful look. Her head was crown'd with willows That trembled o'er the brook. Twelve PASTORAL SONGS. 63 Twelve months are gone and over And nine long tedious days ; Why didft thou, ventrous lover. Why didft thou truft the feas ? Ceafe, ceafe, thou cruel ocean And let a lover reft ; Ah ! what's thy troubled motion To that within my breaft ? The merchant robb'd of treafufe Views tempefts in defpair ; But what's the lofs of treafure To the lofing of my dear? Should you fome coaft be laid on Where gold and diamonds grow. You'll find a richer maiden. But none that loves you {o. How can they fay that nature Has nothing made in vain ; Why then beneath the water Do hideous rocks remain ? No eyes thofe rocks difcover. That lurk beneath the deep. To wreck the wand'ring lover And leave the maid to wee^. All 64. BALLADS AND All melancholy lying Tiius waiPd fhe for her dear, Repaid each blafl with fighing. Each billow with a tear ; Wh?n o'er the white waves ftooping, His floating corps Ihe Tpied ; Then like a lily drooping She bow'd her head and died. Gay. ALL in the Downs the fleet was moor'd. The ftreamers waving in the wind. When black eyed Sufan came on board, O where fliall I my true love find ? Tell me ye jovial failors, tell me true If my fweet William fails among your crew ? William, who high upon the yard Rock'd by the billows to and fro, Soon as her well known voice he heard. He figh'd and caft his eyes below ; The cord glides fwiftly thro' his glowing hands. And quick a& lightning on the deck he Hands. So PASTORAL SONGS. 65 So the fweet lark high pois'd in air Shuts clofe his pinions to his breaft, If chance his mate's (hrill call he hear, And drops at once into her neft. I'he nobleft captain in the Britifh fleet Might envy William's lips thofe kifTes fweet. O Sufan, Sufan, lovely dear, My vows fhall ever true remain ; Let me kifs off that falling tear, We only part to meet again. Change as ye lift ye winds, my heart fhall be The faithful compafs that ftill points to thee. Believe not what the landmen fay, Who tempt with doubts thy conftant mind, They'll tell thee, failors when away At every port a miflrefs find. Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee Co, For thou art prefent wherefoe'er I go. If to fair India's coaft we fail. Thy eyes are feen in diamonds bright, Thy breath is Africk's fpicy gale. Thy ikin is ivory fo white ; Thus every beauteous obje£l that I view. Wakes in my foul fome charm of lovely Sue. E Tho' 66 BALLADS AND Tho* battle calls me from thy arms j Let not my pretty Sufan mourn, Tho' cannons roar, yet free from harms William Ihall to his dear return : Love turns afide the bails that round me fly. Left precious tears fhould drop from Sufan*s eye. The boatfwain gave the dreadful word. The fails their fwelling bofoms fpread ; No longer muft fhe ftay on board. They kifs'd ; Ihe figh'd ; he hung his head t Her lefs'ning boat unwilling rows to land ; Adieu Ihe cries, and waved her lily hand. Gay. DAPHNIS ftood penfive in the fhadc. With arms acrofs, and head reclin'd ; Pale looks accused the cruel maid. And iighs relieved his love-lick mind : His tuneful pipe all broken lay. Looks, iighs, and aftions feem'd to fay. My Chloe is unkind. Why PASTORAL SONGS. e^j Why ring the woods with warbling throats ? Ye larks, ye linnets, ceafe your llrains ; I faintly hear in your fweet notes. My Chloe's voice that wakes my pains : Yet why fliould you your fong forbear ? Your mates delight your fong to hear. But Chloe mine difdains. As thus he melancholy flood, Dejefted as the lonely dove. Sweet founds broke gently through the wood. I feel the found ; my heart-ftrings move, *Twas not the nightingale that fung ; No. 'Tis my Chloe's fweeter tongue. Hark, hark, what fays my love ! How foolifh is the nymph, ihe cries. Who trifles with her lover's pain ! Nature ftill fpeaks in woman's eyes. Our artful lips were made to feign. O Daphnis, Daphnis, 'twas my pride, 'Twas not my heart thy love deny'd, Come back, dear youth, again. £ 2 As 68 BALLADS AND As t'other day my hand he feiz*d. My blood with thrilling motion flew ; Sudden I put on looks difpleas'd. And hafty from his hold withdrew. rTwas fear alone, thou limple fwain, Then hadft thou preft my hand again.. My heart had yielded too ! 'Tis true, thy tuneful reed I blani*d. That fweird thy lip and rofy cheek ; Think not thy Ikill in fong defam'd. That lip fhould other pleafures feek : Much, much thy mufic I approve ; Yet break thy pipe, for more I love. Much more to hear thee fpeak.. My heart forebodes that I'm be tray 'd, Daphnis I fear is ever gone ; Lafi: night with Delia's dog he play'd, Love by fuch trifles firft comes on. Now, now, dear fhepherd, come away. My tongue would now my heart obey. Ah Chloe, thou art won I The PASTORAL SONGS. 69 The youth ftepp*d forth with hafty pace. And found where wifliing Chloe lay ; Shame fudden lighten'd in her face, Confus'd, fhe knew not what to fay. At laft in broken words, Ihe cry'd ; To-morrow you in vain had tryM, But I am loft to-day ! Gay. DESPAIRING befide a clear ftream, A fhepherd forfaken was laid. And whilft a falfe nymph was his theme, A willow fupported his head ; The wind that blew over the plain To his fighs with a figh did reply. And the brook in return to his pain Ran mournfully murmuring by. £ 3 Alas 70 BALLADS AND Alas ! filly /wain that I was ! Thus fadly complaining he cried ; When firll I beheld that fair face, ' 'Twere better by far I had died. She talked, and I bleft the dear tongue. When fhe fmil'd 'twas a pleafure too great 5 I liften'd, and cry*d, when flie fang. Was nightingale ever fo fweet ? How foolifh was I to believe She would doat on fo lowly a clown^ Or that her fond heart would not grieve To forfake the fine folks of the town ; To think that a maiden fo gay, So kind and fo conftant would prove. To go clad like our maidens in gray. And live in a cottage on love. What tho* I have Ikill to complain, Tho* the mufes my temples have crown*d ? What tho* when they hear my foft ftrain. The virgins fit weeping around ? Ah Colin thy hopes are in vain. Thy pipe and thy laurel refign. Thy fair one inclines to a fwain Whofe mufic is fweeter than thine. And PASTORAL SONGS. 71 And you my companions fo dear. Who forrow to fee me betray'd. Whatever I fufFer, forbear. Forbear to accufe the falfe maid ; Tho' thro' the wide world we Ihould range, 'Tis in vain from our fortune to fly ; 'Twas hers to be falfe, and to change, 'Tis mine to be conftant, and die. If while my hard fate I fuflain. In her breafl any pity is found. Let her come with the nymphs of the plain, And fee me laid low in the ground : The laft humble boon that I crave Is to ihade me with cyprefs and yew. And when Ihe looks down on my grave Let her own that her Ihepherd was true. Then to her new love let her go, And deck her in golden array. Be fineft at every fine fhow. And frolic it all the long day : While Colin forgotten and gone. No more (hall be heard of or feen, Unlefs when beneath the pale moon His gholl fhall glide over the green. RowE. n BALLADS AND AS on a fummer's day, In the greenwood fhade I lay, The maid that I lov'd. As her fancy mov'd. Came walking forth that way. And as (he pafTed by, With a fcornful glance of her eye. What a ihame, quoth ihe. For a fwain muft it be. Like a lazy loon for to lie ? And doft thou nothing heed What Pan our God has decreed ; What a prize to-day Shall be given away To the fweetelt ihepherd's reed \ There** PASTORAL SONGS. 73 Thcre^s not a fmgle fwain Of all this fruitful plain, But with hopes and fears, Now bufily prepares The bonny boon to gain. Shall another maiden fhine In brighter array than thine ? Up, up, dull fwain. Tune thy pipe once again, And make the garland mine. Alas ! my love, I cried. What avails this courtly pride ? Since thy dear defert Is written in my heart. What is all the world befide ? To me thou art more gay In this homely ruffet gray. Than the nymphs of our green. So trim and fo Iheen, Or the brighteft queen of May. What 74 BALLADS AND What tho* my fortune frown. And deny thee a filken gown ; My own dear maid, Be content with this fliade And a ftiepherd all thy own. ROWE. ALEXIS Ihunn'd his fellow fwains, Their rural fports and jocund ftrains ; Heaven Ihield us all from Cupid's bow I He loft his crook, he left his flocks. And wandering thro' the lonely rocks. He nourifh'd endlefs woe. The nymphs and fhepherds round him came, His grief fome pity, others blame, The fatal caufe all kindly feek; He mingled his concern with theirs. He gave them back their friendly tears. He figh'd, but could not fpeak. Clorinda PASTORAL SONGS. 75 Clorinda came among the reft, And fhe too kind concern expreft And afK'd the reafon of his woe; She afk'd, but with an air and mien That made it eafily forefeen She fear'd too much to linow. The fhepherd rais'd his mournful head. And will you pardon me, he faid. While I the cruel truth reveal ? Which nothing from my breaft ftiould tear. Which never fhould offend your ear. But that you bid me tell. 'Tis thus I rove, 'tis thus complain, Since you appeared upon the plain. You are the caufe of all my care; Your eyes ten thoufand dangers dart. Ten thoufand torments vex my heart, I love, and I defpair. Too much Alexis have I heard, 'Tis what I thought, *tis what I fear'd. And yet I pardon you fhe cried ; But you fhall promife ne'er again To breathe your vows, or fpeak your pain 5 He bow'd, obey'd, and died. Prig 76 BALLADS AND WHILE monarchs in ftern battle ftrove For proud imperial fway. Abandoned to his milder love. Within a filent peaceful grove Alcidor carelefs lay. Some term*d it cold unmanly fear. Some nicety of fenfe. That drums and trumpets could not hear. The fullying blafts of powder bear, Or with foul camps difpenfe, A patient martyr to their fcorn, And each ill-falhion'd jell ; The youth who but for love was born. Remained, and thought it vaft return To reign in Gloria's bread. But PASTORAL SONGS. But oh ! a ruffling foldler came In all the pomp of war, The gazettes long had fpoke his fame, Now hautboys his approach proclaim And draw in crowds from far. Gloria unhappily would gaze ; And as he nearer drew. The man of feather and of lace Stopp'd fhort, and with profound amaze Took all her charms to view. A bow, which from campaigns he brought And to his houlfters low, Herfelf and the fpetlators taught That her the faireft nymph he thought Of all that formed the row. Next day e'er Phoebus could be Ceen, Or any gate unbarr'd. At her's upon th* adjoining green From ranks with waving flags between, Were foften'd trumpets heard. The 78 BALLADS AND The noon does following treats provide In the pavilion's fhade, The neighbourhood and all befide That will attend the amorous pride, Are welcom'd with the maid. Poor Alcidor thy hopes are crofs'd Go perilh on the ground ; Thy fighs by ftronger notes are tofs'd. Drove back, or in the paflage loft. Rich wines thy tears have drown'd. In women's hearts, the fofteft things That nature could devife. Are yet fome harfh and jarring firings. That when loud fame or profit rings Will anfwer to the noife. THE fun was funk beneath the hill. The weftern clouds were lined with goldj Clear was the Iky, the wind was ftill. The flocks were penn'd within the fold ; When PASTORAL SONGS. 79 When in the filence of the grove Poor Damon thus defpair'd of love. Who feeks to pluck the fragrant rofe From the hard rock or oozy beach. Who from each weed that barren grows, Expefts the grape or downy peach. With equal faith may hope to find The truth of love in womankind. No herds have I, no fleecy care. No fields that wave with golden grain, No paflures green, or gardens fair, A woman's venal heart to gain ; Then all in vain my fighs muft prove Whofe whole eftate, alas ! is love. How wretched is the faithful youth Since womens hearts are bought and fold 5 They afk no vows of facred truth. Whene'er they figh, they figh for gold. Gold can the frowns of fcorn remove j But I am fcorn'd— who have but love. Ta 8o BALLADS AND To buy the gems of India's coaft What wealth, what riches would fuffice ? Yet India's fhore fhould never boaft The luftre of thy rival eyes ; For there the world too cheap muft prove, Can I then buy ? — who have but love. Then, Mary, fince nor gems nor ore Can with thy brighter felf compare, Be juft, as fair, and value more Than gems or ore, a heart fincere : Let treafure meaner beauties move ; Who pays thy worth, muft pay in love. WHAT beauties does Flora difclofe > How fweet are her fmiles upon Tweed ? But Mary's ftill fweeter than thofe Both nature and fancy exceed. No daify nor fweet blufliing rofe Nor all the gay flowers of the field. Nor Tweed gliding gently thro' thofe Such beauty and pleafure can yield. The PASTORAL SONGS. 8i The warblers arc heard in each grove. The linnet, the lark and the thrulh ; The blackbird and fweet cooing dove With mufic enchant every bufh. Come let us go forth to the mead. Let us fee how the primrofes fpring ; We'll lodge in fome village on Tweed, And love while the feather'd folks fing. How does my love pafs the long day ? Does Mary not tend a few fhecp ? Do they never carelellly ftray, While happily fhe lies afleep ? Tweed's murmurs (hould lull her to rell. Kind nature indulging my blifs, To relieve the foft pains of my bread I'd ileal an ambrofial kifs. 'Tis (he does the virgins excel, No beauty with her can compare. Love's graces all round her do dwell. She's faireft where thoufands are fair. Say charmer where do thy flocks ftray ? Oh ! tell me at noon where they feed : Shall I feek them in fweet winding Tay, Or the pleafanter banks of the Tweed. 82 BALLADS AND FAR In the windings of a vale. Fail by a fheltering wood. The fafe retreat of health and peace. An humble cottage Hood, There beauteous Emma flourlih*d fair Beneath a mother's eye, Whofe only wifh on earth was now To fee her bleft, and die. The fofteft blulh that nature fpreads Gave colour to her cheek ; Such orient colour fmiles thro' heav'n When May's fweet mornings break. Nor let the pride of great ones fcorn This charmer of the plain ; That fun which bids their diamond blaze. To deck our lily deigns. Long PASTORAL SONGS. 8g Long had ihe fir*d each youth with love. Each maiden with difpair ; And tho' by all a wonder own'd. Yet knew not fhe was fair. Till Edwin came, the pride of fwains, A foul that knew no art. And from whofe eyes ferenely mild. Shone forth the feeling heart. A mutual flame was quickly caught^ Was quickly too reveal'd ; For neither bofom lodg'd a wifli. Which virtue keeps conceal'd. What happy hours of heartfelt blifs. Did love on both bellow ! But blifs too mighty long to lad. Where fortune proves a foe. His filler who like envy form'd. Like her in mifchief joy*d. To work them harm, with wicked ikill Each darker art employed. F 2 The 84 BALLADS AND The father too, a fordid man. Who love nor pity knew. Was all unfeeling as the rock From whence his riches grew. Long had he feen their mutual flame. And feen it long unmovM ; Then with a father's frown at laft. He fternly difapprov'd. In Edwin's gentle heart a war Of differing paflions ftrove ; His heart which durft not difobey. Yet could not ceafe to love. Deny'd her fight, he oft behind The fpreading hawthorn crept. To fnatch a glance, to mark the fpot Where Emma walk'd and wept. Oft too in Stanemore's wintry wafle. Beneath the moonlight fhade. In fighs to pour his foften'd foul The midnight mourner flray'd. His PASTORAL SONGS. Ss His cheeks, where love with beauty glow'd, A deadly pale o'ercaft ; So fades the frefh rofe in it's prime, Before the northern blaft. The parents now, with late remorfe. Hung o'er his dying bed. And weary'd heav'n with fruitlefs pray'rs, And fruitlefs forrows fhcd. 'Tis paft, he cry'd, but, if your fouls Sweet mercy yet can move. Let thefe dim eyes once more behold What they muft ever love. She came ; his cold hand foftly touch'd, And bath'd with many a tear ; Faft falling o'er the primrofe pale So morning dews appear. But oh ! his lifter's jealous care (A cruel fifter fhe !) Forbad what Emma came to fay My Edwin, live for me. F 3 Now S6 BALLADS AND Now homeward as fhe hopelefs went, The church-yard path along, The blaft blew cold, the dark owl fcream*d. Her lover's fun'ral fong. Amid the falling gloom of night. Her ftartling fancy found In every bufh his hovering fhade. His groan in every found. Alone, appall'd, thus had fhe pafs*d The viiionary vale. When lo \ the death-bell fmote her ear. Sad founding in the gale. Juft then fhe reach'd, with trembling fleps. Her aged mother's door ; He's gone, fhe cry'd, and I fhall fee That angel face no more. I feel, I feel this breaking heart Beat high againfl mji fide : From her white arm down funk her head, She fhiver'd, figh'd, and died. PASTORAL SONGS. Sy THE weftern iky was purpled o'er With every pleafing ray, And flocks reviving felt no more The fultry heat of day ; When from a hazel's artlefs bower Soft warbled Strephon's tongue ; He bleft the fcene, he bleft the hour. While Nancy's praife he fung. Let fops with fickle falfhood range The paths of wanton love, Whilft weeping maids lament their change, And fadden every grove : But endlefs blefiings crown the day I faw fair Eiham's dale ; And every ble fling find its way To Nancy of the vale. F 4 'Twas 88 BALLADS AND 'Twas from Avona's bank, the maid DifFus'd her lovely beams ; And every fliining glance difplay*d The Naiad of the dreams. Soft as the wild duck's tender young. That float on Avon's tide ; Bright as the water lily fprung And glittering near its fide. Frefh as the bordering flowers, her bloom. Her eye all mild to view ; The little halcyon's azure plume Was never half fo blue. Her fliape was like the reed, fo fleek. So taper, fl:rait, and fair ; Her dimpled fmile, her blufliing cheek. How charming fweet they were I Far in the winding vale retir'd This peerlefs bud I found, And fliadowing rocks and woods confpir'd To fence her beauties round. That PASTORAL SONGS. s^ That nature in fo lone a dcll Should form a nymph fo fweet ! Or fortune to her fccrct cell Condudl my wand'ring feet! Gay lordlings fought her for their bride, But fhe would ne'er incline; Prove to your equals true, fhe cry'd. As I will prove to mine. *Tis Strephon on the mountain's brow Has won my right good will; To him I give my plighted vow, With him ril climb the hill. Struck with her charms and gentle truth I clafp'd the conftant fair ; To her alone I give my youth. And vow my future care. And when this vow fhall faithlefs prove, Or I thefe charms forego. The flream that faw our tender love. That llream fhall ceafe to flow. Shenstonb, 90 BALLADS AND O'ER moorlands and mountains rude barren and bare. As wilder'd and wearied I roam, A gentle young Ihepherdefs fees my defpair. And leads me o'er lawns to her home : Yellow fheaves from rich Ceres her cottage had crown'd. Green rufties were flrew'd on the floor ; Her cafement fweet woodbines crept wantonly round. And deck'd the fod feats at her door. We fat ourfelves down to a cooling repaft, Frefh fruits, and fhe cull'd me the beft, Whilft thrown off my guard by fome glances fhe caft. Love fUly ilok into my breaft. I told my foft wifhes, Ihe fweetly replied (Ye virgins, her voice was divine) I've rich ones rejedled and great ones denied, Yet take me, fond fhepherd, I'm thine. Her air was fo modeft, her afped Co meek, So fimple, yet fweet were her charms, I kifs'd PASTORAL SONGS. 91 I klfs'd the ripe rofes that glow'd on her cheek, And lock'd the lov'd maid in my arms. Now jocund together we tend a few Iheep, And if on the banks, by the dream, Reclin'd on her bofom I fmk into flecp. Her image flill foftens my dream. Together we range o'er the flow rifing hills. Delighted with paftoral views. Or reft on the rock where the ftreamlet diftills. And mark out new themes for my mufe. To pomp or proud titles fhe ne'er did*^ afpire. The damfel's of humble defcent ; The cottager Peace is well known for her fire. And fhepherds have named her — Content. Cunningham. A Paftoral BALLAD, in Four Parts. I. ABSENCE. YE fliepherds fo chearful and gay, Whofe flocks never careleflly roam ; Should Cory don's happen to ftray, Oh ! call the poor wanderers home. Allow 92 BALLADS AND Allow me to mufe and to figh. Nor talk of the change that ye find ; None once was fo watchful as I : I have left my dear Phyllis behind. Now I know what it is, to have ftrove With the torture of doubt and defire ; What it is, to admire and to love. And to leave her we love and admire. Ah lead forth my flock in the morn, And the damps of each ev'ning repel ; Alas ! 1 am faint and forlorn : I have bade my dear Phyllis farewel. Since Phyllis vouchfaPd me a look, I never once dreamt of my vine ; May I lofe both my pipe and my crook. If 1 knew of a kid that was mine. I prizM every hour that went by, Beyond all that had pleas'd me before ; But now they are paft, and I figh ; And I grieve that I priz'd them no more. But why do I languifli in vain ? Why wander thus penfively here ? Oh! PASTORAL SONGS. 95 Oh ! why did I come from the plain, Where I fed on the fmiles of my dear ? They tell me, my favourite maid. The pride of that valley, is flown ; Alas ! where with her I have flray'd, I could wander v;ith pleafure, alone. When forc'd the fair nymph to forego, What angui(h I felt at my heart ! Yet I thought, but it might not be Co, 'Twas with pain that fhe faw me depart. She gaz'd, as I flowly withdrew ; My path I could hardly difcern ; So fweetly fhe bade me adieu, I thought that Ihe bade me return. The pilgrim that journeys all day To vifit fome far-diftant flirine, If he bear but a relique away. Is happy, nor heard to repine. Thus widely removed from the fair. Where my vows, my devotion, I owe, Soft hope is the relique I bear. And my folace wherever I go. IL 94 BALLADS AND II. HOP E. MY banks they are furnilh*d with bees, Whofe murmur invites one to fleep ; My grottos are fhaded with trees. And my hills are white-over with fheep. I feldom have met with a lofs. Such health do my fountains beftow ; My fountains all border'd with mofs. Where the hare-bells and violets grow. Not a pine in my grove is there feen. But with tendrils of woodbine is bound I Not a beech's more beautiful green. But a fweet-briar entwines it around. Not my fields, in the prime of the year. More charms than my cattle unfold : Not a brook that is limpid and clear. But it glitters with fifties of gold. One would think ftie might like to retire To the bow'r I have labour'd to rear ; Not a Ihrub that I heard her admire, But I hailed and planted it there. Oh PASTORAL SONGS. 95 Oh how fudden the jefTamine flrove With the lilac to render it gay ! Already it calls for my love. To prune the wild branches away. From the plains, from the woodlands and groves , What ftrains of wild melody flow ? How the nightingales warble their loves From thickets of rofes that blow 1 And when her bright form fhall appear, Each bird Ihall harmonioufly join In a concert fo foft and fo clear. As fhe may not be fond to refign. I have found out a gift for my fair; I have found where the wood-pigeons breed : But let me that plunder forbear, She will fay 'twas a barbarous deed.. For he ne'er could be true, ihe aver'd. Who could rob a poor bird of its young : And I lov'd her the more, when I heard Such tendernefs fall from her tongue. I have heard her with fweetnefs unfold How that pity was due to a dove ; That 96 BALLADS AND That it ever attended the bold. And fhe call'd it the fifter of love. But her words fuch a pleafure convey, So much I her accents adore. Let her fpeak, and whatever Ihe fay, Methinks I ihould love her the more. Can a bofom {o gentle remain Unmov'd, when her Corydon iighs ! "Wil] a nymph that is fond of the plain, Thefe plains and this \'alley defpife ? •Dear regions of filence and fhade ! Soft fcenes of contentment and eafe ! Where I could have pleafingly ftray'd. If aught, in her abfence, could pleafe. But where does my Phyllida ftray ? And where are her grots and her bowers ? Are the groves and the valleys as gay. And the fhepherds as gentle as ours ? The groves may perhaps be as fair. And the face of the valleys as fine ; The fwains may in manners compare. But there love is not equal to mine. III. PASTORAL SONGS. 97 HI. SOLICITUDE. WHY will you my paffion reprove ? Why term it a folly to grieve ? E'er I fhew you the charms of my love. She is fairer than you can believe. With her mien fhe enamours the brave ; With her wit Ihe engages the free ; With her modefty pleafes the grave ; She is ev'ry way pleafing to me. yea that have been of her train, Come and join in my amorous lays ; 1 could lay down my life for the fwain. That will fing but a fong in her praife. When he fings, may the nymphs of the town Come trooping, and liften the while ; Nay on him let not Phyllida frown ; But I cannot allow her to fmile. For when Pa ridel tries in the dance Any favour with Phyllis to find, O how, with one trivial glance. Might Ihe ruin the peace of my mind ! G In 98 BALLADS AND In ringlets he drefles his hair. And his crook is be-ftudded around ; And his pipe — oh may Phyllis beware Of a magic there is in the found. 'Tis his with mock paflion to glow; 'Tis his in fmooth tales to unfold. How her face is as bright as the fnow. And her bofom, be fure, is as cold ? How the nightingales labour the ftrain. With the notes of his charmer to vie ; How they vary their accents in vain. Repine at her triumphs, and die» To the grove or the garden he llrays^ And pillages every fvveet ; Then, fuiting the wreath to his lays. He throws it at Phyllis's feet. O Phyllis, he whifpers, more fair, More fweet than the jeffamin's flower 1 What are pinks, in a morn, to compare ? What is eglantine, after a ftiow'r ? Then the lily no longer is white ; Then the rofe is deprived of its bloom j Thea PASTORAL SONGS, 99 Then the violets die with defpight, And the woodbines give up their perfume. Thus glide the foft numbers along. And he fancies no fhepherd his peer ; Yet I never fliould envy the fong, Were not Phyllis to lend it an Ear. Let his crook be with hyacinths bound. So Phyllis the trophy defpife ; Let his forehead with laurels be crown'd, So they fhine not in Phyllis's eyes. The language that flows from the heart Is a ftranger to Paridel's tongue ; Yet may fhe beware of his art. Or fure I muft envy the fong. IV. DISAPPOINTMENT. YE Ihepherds give ear to my lay. And take no more heed of my flieep : They have nothiug to do, but to flray; I have nothing to do, but to weep. Yet do not my folly reprove ; She was fair, and my paffion begun ; F 2 She lOO BALLADS AND She fmil'd, and I could not but love ; She is f aithlefs, and 1 am undone. Perhaps I was void of all thought ; Perhaps it was plain to forefee, That a nymph fo compleat would be foughty By a fwain more engaging than me. Ah ! love ev'ry hope can infpire : It banifhes wifdom the while ; And the lip of the nymph we admire Seems for ever adorned with a fmile. She is faithlefs, and I am undone ; Ye that witnefs the woes I endure. Let reafon inftruft you to fliun What it cannot inflruft you to cure. Beware how ye loiter in vain Amid nymphs of an higher degree : It is not for me to explain How fair, and how fickle they be. Alas I from the day that we met. What hope of an end to my woes ? When I cannot endure to forp-et o The glance that undid my repofe. Yet PASTORAL SONGS. loi Yet time may diminilh the pain : The flower, the flirub, and the tree. Which I rearM for her pleafure in vain. In time may have comfort for me. The fweets of a dew-fprinkled rofe. The found of a murmuring ftream, The peace which from folitude flows. Henceforth (hall be Cory don's theme. High tranfports are flicwn to the fight. But we are not to find them our own ; Fate never beftowM fuch delight. As I with my Phillis had known, ye woods, fpread your branches apace ; To your deepeft recefles I fly ; 1 would hide with the beafts of the chace ; I would vanifli from every eye. Yet my reed fliall refound thro' the grove With the fame fad complaint it begun ; How (he fmird, and I could not but love ; Was faithlefs, and I am undone ! Shenstone. I02 BALLADS AND To the Memory of William Shenstone, Efq. COME, ftiepherds, we'll follow the hearfe. And fee our lov*d Corydon laid: Tho' forrow may blemifh the verfe. Yet let the fad tribute be paid. They call'd him the pride of the plain : In footh, he was gentle and kind ; He mark'd in his elegant ftrain, The graces that glow'd in his mind. On purpofe he planted yon trees, That birds in the covert might dwell; He cultured his thyme for the bees, But never would rifle their cell. Ye lambkins that play'd at his feet, Go bleat, and your mailer bemoan : His mufic was ardefs and fweet. His manners as mild as your own. N* PASTORAL SONGS.. 103 No verdure fliall cover the vale. No bloom on the bloflbms appear ; The fweets of the foreft fhall fail. And winter difcolour the year. No birds in our hedges fhall ling, (Our hedges fo vocal before) Since he that fliould welcome the fpring, Can greet the gay feafon no more. His Phillis was fond of his praife, And poets came round in a throng ; They liftenM, and cnvy*d his lays. But which of them equalled his fongf Ye Ihepherds, henceforward be mute. For loft is the palloral ftrain ; So give me my Cory DON *s flute, And thus — let me break it in twain. Cunningham. I04 ON PASSIONATE AND III. ESSAY O N PASSIONATE AND DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. THE poet's rapturous defcriptions of beauty, with the exprefTion of his warm fenfations and emotions, are the fubjedls of this clafs of fong- writing. Its models exilt in the clafTical remains of DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 105 of Lyric poetry, and all the praife the moderns can here exped, muft arife from imitating with fuccefs thefe examples of perfedion. The fublime and beautiful of nature, were firft combined with the elegance and refinement of art, by the Grecians; and this fuperiority in their poetry, and the other fine arts, entitled them to diilinguifli the reft of the world from themfelves, as Barbarians. Their Roman conquerors, firft by their arms, and then by their bor- rowed arts, obtained a lliare in the ho- nourable exclufion. Among thefe people, even fimple nature was graceful, and or- nament was elegant and magnificent. Glaring fplendor reigned in the Eaft, and terrible fublimity in the North, but grace and dignity belonged to Greece and Rome alone. Fancy, in her wildeft flights, could in them reftrain herfeif within the limits of harmony io6 ON PASSIONATE AND harmony and proportion. Even fuperfli- tion here wore a graceful afped. While the Deities of other nations were prefent to their minds in the horrid forms of cruel rage and gigantic deformity, they gave di- vinity to the fublime and beautiful con- ceptions of their poets and painters. Thefe they embodied with fuitable fymbols and attributes ; and the enthufiaflic votary worfhipped the God of his own enrap- tured imagination. There is no circum- ftance in which the genius of thefe people ihows itfelf more ftrongly than in the cha- radler of their fancy-formed divinities. Befides thofe particularly diilinguilhed by the title of the Graces^ there were many w^hofe attributes expreffed the different fhades and variations of whatever is ele- gant and graceful. Their Venus was the abHrad idea of all thefe united — fhe was grace and beauty itfelf, and parent of every thing Utum et amaliU — gladfome and DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 107 and lovely. With the charming image of this ideal excellence in their minds, the poets of Greece and Rome feledled every pleafmg objedl from the whole compafs of nature, and carefully feparated them from every thing difguftful and incongruous. From a croud of furrounding images they knew how to choofe fuch as were not only intrinfically beautiful, but fuitable to their fubjed •, and they knew when to drop all ornament, and recur to fimple nature. They diftinguifhed with the niceft judg- ment between the purpofes of elevating the fancy, and interefting the heart, and could give full force to each, without confounding and mixing their effedls. In the fpecies of Lyric poetry which we are now to confider, both thefe defigns have their place. The poetical defcripti- on of a fair form requires the.comparifon of every kindred objed of delight, and the richeft io8 ON PASSIONATE AND richeft colouring that art can beftow. The exprefllon of emotions, on the other hand, muft be conduded upon a fimpler plan •, the feelings of the foul muft declare them- felves in artlefs touches of nature and the real fymptoms of pafTion \ and the poet's hand muft Only appear in the delicacy of his ftrokes, and the foftnefs and harmony of his verfification. Sappho, the genuine favourite of Ve- nus, has given us a perfedl model of the pafftonate fong. She poured forth her whole foul in thofe amorous odes, of which time has indeed left us very fcanty remains, but fuch as will ever be the fineft exam- ples of elegance and fenfibihty. The joy- ous Anacreon fucceeded, but with a diffe- rent turn of fentiment. His lyre was tuned rather to gaiety than tendernefs, and his Venus was rather the eafy companion of a bacchanalian, than the objed of delicate and DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 109 and refined emotions. In Horace, the paflionate warmth of Sappho, the eafy gaiety of Anacreon, and a fuperior ftrain of fancy and poetical enthufiafm proper to himfelf, are united ; but on the whole, he is lefs frequently tender, than gay, or fublime. Among the Romans, the elegiac poets chiefly excelled in the natural and fimple pathetic, and Tibullus is the pureft example of this kind of writing. His flowing, elegant, and unadorned fliyle, fweetly correfponds with the tender fenti- ments of complaining love, and fome of the moft affefting touches of nature that ever were exprefl!ed, have dropt from his pen. Ovid, though thoroughly acquaint- ed with the pallion of love, and abounding with warm and natural defcriptions of it, was in general too much under the domi- nion of a Hvely fancy, and too fond of brilliant exprefilon, to be long a pathetic writer. If he had compofed in the Lyric form. no ON PASSIONATE AND form, his pieces would have refembled our next clafs of witty and ingenious fongs^ more nearly than thofe of any ancient Lyric poet. The following fongs of the pajjionate and defcriptive kind, refemble in various degrees the ancient mafters above-men- tioned. There are many imitations of the Sapphic ode, in its warm defcriptions of the external fymptoms of love. Beiides that piece of Dr. Smollet's, which is only a variation of Sappho's famous ode, I would particularly point out " Ah the Ihepherds mournful fate" as a near copy from this model. Horace, a poet the moft familiar to a fcholar of all the ancients, has been imi- tated DESCRIPTIVE SONGS, m tated in feveral fongs. Thefe are fuch as in common language would be peculiarly entitled odes, from their high llrain of fancy and poetical didion. That of Prior, " If wine and mufic have the power" may be marked as truly Horatian. The fimple pathetic of Tibullus and the writers of elegy, is moft fweetly mani- felled in that charming fong of Mr. Percy*s, " O Nancy wilt thou go with me" which has fc arcely its equal for real ten- dernefs in this or any other language. Other refemblances might be pointed out, but I imagine it is unnecefTary to go farther. What has been already obferved may ferve to put a reader of tafle upon remarking thofe niceties of compofition, and 112 ON PASSIONATE SONGS, &c. and delicate variations, which he might otherwife have pafTed over •, and I would not anticipate the pleafure he will receive from his own difcoveries of this kind. An ample (lore of beauties lies open for his infpedlion, and lie will probably find rea- fon to flatter himfelf, that in this fpecies of poetry, as well as in every other, the Englifh follow the clalTic ancients with a bold and vigorous ftep, and ftrain hard for the palm of vi6tory. PASSIONATE AND DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. BLEST as th' immortal Gods is he,* The youth that fondly fits by thee ; And fees, and hears thee, all the while, Softly fpeak, and fweetly fmile. 'Twas this depriv'd my foul of reft. And raised fuch tumults in my breaft ; For while I gaz*d, in tranfports toft. My breath was gone, my voice was loft. H My * Though it may feem irregular to begin a colleftlon of EngUJh Jongs with an ode of Sappho, yet I am tempted to do it on account of the excellence of the tranflation, which has almoft the merit of an original, and that the reader may have fo nearly in his view a pattern of perfeftion with which he may compare the reft. 114 PASSIONATE AND My bofom glow'd, a fudden flame Ran quick thro* all my vital frame ; O'er my dim eyes a darknefs hung. My ears in hollow murmurs rung. In dewy damps my limbs were chilPd, My blood with gentle horrors thrill'd 5 My feeble pulfe forgot to play, I fainted, funk, and died away. Phillips, THY fatal fliafts unerring move I bow before thine altar, love ; I feel the foft refiftlefs flame Glide fwift thro* all my vital frame. For while I gaze, my bofom glows. My blood in tides impetuous flows ; Hope, fear, and joy alternate roll. And floods of tranfport whelm my foul, My fault'ring tongue attempts in vain In foothing numbers to complain ; My DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 115 My tongue fome fecret magic ties. My murmurs fink in broken fighs. Condemned to nurfe eternal care. And ever drop the filent tear, Unheard I mourn, unknown I figh. Unfriended live, unpity'd die. Smollett. AH ! the fliepherd's mournful fate ! When doom'd to love, and doom'd to languifli. To bear the fcornful fair one's hate. Nor dare difclofe his anguifli. Yet eager looks, and dying fighs, My fecret foul difcover. While rapture trembling thro' my eyes Reveals how much I love her. The tender glance, the redd'ning cheek, O'erfpread with rifmg blufhes, A thoufand various ways they fpeak A thoufand various wilhes. H2 For ii6 PASSIONATE AND For oh ! that form fo heavenly fair, Thofe languid eyes fo fweetly fmiling. That artlefs blufh, and modeft air. So artfully beguiling ! Thy every look, and every grace So charms whene'er I view thee. Till death o'ertake me in the chafe Still will my hopes purfue thee : Then when my tedious hours arc pall Be this laft bleffrng given. Low at thy feet to breathe my laft. And die in fight of heaven. GO, tell Amynta, gentle fwain, I would not die, nor dare complain ; Thy tuneful voice with numbers join. Thy voice will more prevail than mine : For fouls opprefs'd, and dumb with grief. The Gods ordain'd this kind relief. That mufic fhould in founds convey What dying lovers dare not fay. A figh. DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 117 A figh, or tear, perhaps, fhe'll give. But love on pity cannot live. Tell her, that hearts for hearts were made. And love with love is only paid. Tell her, my pains Co fall increafe. That foon they will be paft redrefs ; For ah ! the wretch that fpeechlefs lies. Attends but death to clofe his eyes. / Dryden. YES, fairell proof of beauty's power. Dear idol of my panting heart ; Nature points this my fatal hour ; And I have llv'd ; and we mud part. While now I take my lad adieu Heave thou no figh, nor ilied a tear, LeA yet my half-clos'd eye may view On earth an objeft worth its care. H 3 From n8 PASSIONATE AND From jealoufy's tormenting ftrlfe For ever be thy bofom freed ; That nothing may difturb thy life Content I halten to the dead. Yet when fome better fated youth Shall with his amorous parley move thee> Refleft one moment on his truth Who dying, thus perfifts to love thee. Prior. IN vain you tell your parting lover You wifh fair winds may waft him over Alas ! what winds can happy prove That bear me far from what I love ? Alas ! what dangers on the main Can equal thofe which I fuftain From flighted vows and cold difdain ? Be DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 119 Be gentle, and in pity choofe To wifh the wildeft tempefts loofe ; That, thrown again upon the coaft Where firft my fhipwreck*d heart was loft, I may once more repeat my pain. Once more in dying notes complain Of flighted vows and cold difdain. Prior. THE heavy hou* are almoft paft That part my love and me ; My longing eyes may hope at laft Their only wilh to fee. But how my Delia will you meet The man you've loft fo long ? Will love in all your pulfes beat. And tremble in your tongue ? Will you In every look declare Your heart is ftill the fame ; H4 And 120 PASSIONATE AND And heal each idly anxious care Our fears in abfence frame ? Thus Delia, thus I paint the fccne When fhortly we fhall meet. And try what yet remains between Of loitering time to cheat. But if the dream that fooths my mind Shall falfe and groundlefs prove. If I am doom'd at length to find You have forgot to love ; All I of Venus afk is t;his. No more to let us join ; But grant me here the flatt'ring blifs. To die and think you mine. Lyttleton, IF wine and mufic have the power To eafe the ficknefs of the foul. Let Phoebus every firing explore. And Bacchus fill the fprightly bowli Let DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 121 Let them their friendly aid employ To make my Chloe's abfence light. And feek for pleafure, to deftroy The forrows of this live long night. But fhe to-morrow will return ; Venus be thou to-morrow great. Thy myrtles drew, thy odours burn. And meet thy favorite nymph in Hate. Kind Goddefs, to no other pow'rs Let us to-morrow's blcifings own ; The darling loves (hall guide the hours. And all the day be thine alone. Prior. WHEN Delia on the plain appears, Aw'd by a thoufand tender fears, I would approach, but dare not move ; Tell me my heart if this be love ? Whene'er 122 PASSIONATE AND Whene'er Ihe fpeaks, my ravilh'd ear No other voice but her*s can hear ; No other wit but hers approve ; Tell me my heart if this be love ? If fhe fome other fwain commend, Tho* I was once his fondeft friend. His inftant enemy I prove, Tell me my heart if this be love ? When fhe is abfent, I no more Delight in all that pleasM before. The cleareft fpring, the fhadieft grove ; Tell me my heart if this be love ? When fond of power, of beauty vain. Her nets fhe fpread for every fwain, I ftrove to hate, but vainly drove ; Tell me my heart if this be love ? Lyttleton. DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 123 AH ! why niuft words my flame reveal ! Why needs my Damon bid me tell. What all my aftions prove ? A blufh whene'er I meet his eye. Whene'er I hear his name, a iigh Betrays my fecret love. In all their fports upon the plain Mine eyes ftill fix'd on him remain. And him alone approve ; The reft unheeded dance or play. From all he fteals my praife away. And can he doubt my love ? Whene'er we meet, my looks confefs The joys that all my foul pofTefs, And every care remove ; Still ftill too ftiort appears his ftay. The moments fly too faft away, Too faft for my fond love. Does 124 PASSIONATE AND Does any fpeak in Damon's pralfe. So pleas*d am I with all he fays, I tvery word approve ; But is he blam'd, although in jell, I feel refentment fire my breaft, Alas ! becaufe I love. But ah ! what tortures tear my heart. When I fufpeft his looks impart The leaft defire to rove ! I hate the maid that gives me pain. Yet him to hate I ftrive in vain. For ah ! that hate is love. Then alk not words, but read mine eyes. Believe my blufhes, truft my fighs. My pafTion thefe will prove ; Words oft deceive and fpring from art, The true expreffions of my heart To Damon, muft be love. TOO plain, dear youth, thefe tell-tale eyes My heart your own declare ; But for heaven's fake let it fuffice You reign triumphant there. Forbear DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 125 Forbear your utmoft power to try Nor farther urge your fway ; Prefs not for what I mull deny. For fear I Ihould obey. Could all your arts fuccefsful prove, Would you a maid undo, Whofe greateft failing is her love. And that her love for you ? Say, would you ufe that very power You from her fondnefs claim. To ruin in one fatal hour A life of fpotlefs fame. Refolve not then to do an ill Becaufe perhaps you may. But rather ufe your utmoft fkill To fave me, than betray. Be you yourfelf my virtue's guard. Defend and not purfue. Since 'tis a talk for me too hard To ftrive with love and you. SoAME Jenyns, 126 PASSIONATE AND STREPHON when you fee me fly Let not this your fear create. Maids may be as often ihy Out of love as out of hate ; When from you I fly away. It is becaufe I dare not ftay. Did I out of hatred run Lefs youM be my pain and care ; But the youth I love to fliun. Who can fuch a trial bear ? Who that fuch a fwain did fee Who could love and fly like me ? Cruel duty bids me go, Gentle love commands me flay ; Duty's ftill to love a foe, Shall I this or that obey ? Duty frowns, and Cupid fmiles. That defends, and this beguiles. Ever DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 127 Ever by thefe chryftal ftreams I could fit and hear thee figh, Raviih'd with thefe pleafing dreams O *tis worfe than death to fly ; But the danger is fo great Fear gives wings, inftead of hate. Strephon, leave me, if you love me. If you flay I am undone ; Oh ! with eafe you may deceive me, Pri*thee charming fwain be gone. Heav'n decrees that we fhould part. That has my vows, but you my heart. YE virgin powers defend my heart From amorous looks and fmiles. From faucy love, or nicer art Which rnoft our fex beguiles. From fighs, from vows, from awful fears That do to pity move, From 128 PASSIONATE AND From fpeaking filence, and from tears, Thofe fprings that water love. But if thro* paflion I grow blind. Let honour be my guide ; And where frail nature feems inclin'd. There place a guard of pride. A heart whofe flames are feen, tho* pure. Needs every virtue's aid ; And thofe who think themfelves fecure, The fooneft are betray 'd. Mrs. Taylor. WHEN firft I faw thee graceful move Ah me ! what meant my throbbing breaft ? Say, foft confufion, art thou love ? If love thou art, then farewel reft I Since doom'd I am to love thee, fair, Tho' hopelefs of a warm return. Yet DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 129 Vet kill me not with cold defpair. But let me live, and let me burn. With gentle fmiles afTwage the pain Thofe gentle fmiles did firft: create ; And, tho' you cannot love again, In pity, , oh ! forbear to hate. NOW fee my Goddefs, earthly born, * With fmiling looks, and fparkling eyes. And with a bloom that fliames the morn New rifen in the eaftern fkies ! FurnifhM from nature's boundlefs ftore. And one of pleafure's laughing train. Stranger to all the wife explore. She proves all far-fought knowledg.e vain. I Untaught *This Song is defigned as a Contrast to an Addrefs to Wisdom, 130 PASSIONATE AND Untaught as Venus, when fhe found Herfelf firfl floating on the fea. And laughing beg*d the Tritons round For ihame to look fome other way. And unaccomplifh'd all as Eve In the firll morning of her life, When Adam blufh'd, and afk*d her leave To take her hand, and call her wife. Yet there is fomething in her face, Tho' flie's unread in Plato's lore. Might bring e'en Plato to difgrace, ► For leaving precepts taught before. And there is magick in her eye. The' flie's unfkill'd to conjure down The pale moon from th' affrighted fky. Would draw Endymion from the moon. And there are words that fhe can fpeak, Moll eafy to be underftood, More fweet than all the Heathen Greek By Helen fpoke, when Paris woo'd. And DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 131 And flie has raptures In her pow'r. More worth than all the flatt'ring claim Of learning's unfubftantial dovv'r. In prefent praife or future fame. Let me but kifs her foft warm hand. And let me whifper in her ear What knowledge would not underfland. And wifdom would difdain to hear. And let her liflen to my tale. And let one fmlling blulh arife, Blell omen that my vows prevail ! I'll fcorn the fcorn of all the wife. j^~|-^IS not the liquid brightnefs of thofe eyes, X That fwim with pleafure and delight ; Nor thofe fair heavenly arches which arife O'er each of them to Ihade their light ; I 2 'Tis I 132 PASSIONATE AND 'Tis not that hair which plays with every wind. And loves to wanton round thy face ; Now ftraying o*er thy forehead, now behind Retiring with infidious grace. 'Tis not that lovely range of teeth, as white As new fhorn Iheep, equal and fair ; Nor even that gentle fmile, the hearts delight. With which no fmile could e'er compare ; 'Tis not that chin fo round, that neck f^ fine, Thofe breafts that fwell to meet my lov£ ; That eafy floping waift, that form divine. Nor ought below, nor ought above. Tis not the living colours over each. By nature's fineft pencil wrought. To fhame the frefh blown rofe, and blooming peach. And mock the happieft painters thought : But 'tis that gentle mind, that ardent love. So kindly anfwering my defire ; That grace with which you look, and fpeak, and move> That thus have fet my foul on fire. DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 133 HAIL to the myrtle ihade. All hail to the nymphs of the fields ! Kings would not here invade The pleafures that virtue yields. Beauty here opens her arms ; To foften the languifhing mind. And PHYLJ.IS unlocks her charms ; Ah Phyllis ! oh why fo kind ? Phyllis, thou foul of love. Thou joy of the neighbouring fwains ; Phyllis, that crowns the grove, And Phyllis that gilds the plains ; Phyllis, that ne'er had the fkill To paint, to patch and be fine. Yet Phyllis whofe eyes can kill. Whom nature hath made divine. Phyllis, whofe charming fong Makes labour and pains a delight ; I 3 Phyllis, 134 PASSIONATE AND Phyllis, that makes the day young. And ihortens the live long night; Phyllis, whofe lips like may Still laugh at the fweets they bring ; "Where love ne*er knows decay. But fits with eternal fpring. Lee. ■ AFT me feme foft and cooling breeze To Windfor's ihady, kind retreat. Where fylvan fcenes, wide fpreading trees Repel the raging dog liar's heat. w Where tufted grafs, and moffy beds Afford a rural calm repofe ; Where woodbines hang their dewy heads. And fragrant fweets around difclofe. Old oozy Thames that flows faft by Along the fmiling valley plays ;_ His glafly furface chears the eye. And thro' the flowery meadows ftrays. His DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 135 His fertile banks with herbage green His vales with fmiling plenty fwell ; Where'er his purer ftream is feen The Gods of health and pleafure dwell. Let me, thy clear, thy yielding wave With naked arm once more divide; In thee my glowing bofom lave And flem thy gently rolling tide. Lay me with damafk rofes crowned Beneath fome olier's dufky (hade. Where water lilies paint the ground And bubbling fprings refreili the glade. Let chafle Clarinda too be there With azure mantle lightly dreft ; Ye nymphs bind up her filken hair ; Ye Zephyrs fan her panting breall:. O halle away fair maid, and bring The mufe, the kindly friend to love, To thee alone the mufe fhall fing And warble thro' the vocal grove. Landsdown. I4 136 PASSIONATE AND WHILE in the bower with beauty bleft The lov'd Amintor lies. While finking on Zelinda*s breaft He fondly kifs'd her eyes ; A waking nightingale who long Had mourn'd within the Ihade, Sweetly renew'd her plaintive fong And warbled thro* the glade. Melodious fonji^rcfs, cried the fwain. To (hades lels happy go. Or if with us thou wilt remain Forbear thy tuneful woe. While in Zelinda's arms I lie To fong I am not free ; On her foft bofom while I ligh,, I difcord find in thee. Zeunda DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 137 Zelinda gives me perfeft joys; Then ceafe thy fond intrufion; Be filent ; mufic now is noife. Variety, confufion. WHEN Sappho tunM the raptur'd ftrain The liftning wretch forgot his pain ; With art divine the lyre (he ftrung. Like thee Ihe play'd, like thee fhe fung. For while Ihe ftruck the quivering wire The eager breaft was all on fire ; And when ihe join'd the vocal lay The captive foul was charmM away. But had fhe added flill to thefe Thy fofter, chafter, power to pleafe ; Thy beauteous air of fprightly youth. Thy native fmiles of artlefs truth ; She 138 PASSIONATE AND She ne'er had plnM beneath difdain. She ne'er had play'd and fung in vain ; Defpair had ne'er her foul polTefl: To dafh on rocks the tender breaft. Smollett, WHEN charming Teraminta iings. Each new air new paffion brings ; Now I refolve, and now I fear ; Now I triumph, now defpair ; Frolic now, now faint I grow ; Now I freeze, and now I glow. The panting zephyrs round her play. And trembling on her lips would Hay ; Now would liften, now would kifs Trembling with divided blifs ; Till, by her breath repuls'd, they fly, And in low pleafmg murmurs die. Nor do I afk that Ihe would give By fome new note, the pow'r to live ; I would, expiring with the found. Die on the lips that gave the wound. DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 139 MY dear miflrefs has a heart, Soft as thofe kind looks fhe gave mc, When with love's refilllefs art. And her eyes, ihe did enflave me : But her conftancy's fo weak. She's fo wild and apt to wander. That my jealous heart would break Should we live one day afunder. Melting joys about her move. Wounding pleafurcs, killing bliffes, She can drefs her eyes in love. And her lips can arm with kifTes ; Angels liften when Ihe fpeaks, \ She's my delight, all mankind's wonder, "\ But my jealous heart would break Should we live one day afunder. Rochester. 140 PASSIONATE AND LET the ambitious favour find In courts and empty noife, Whilfl greater love does fill my mind With filent real joys. Let fools and knaves grow rich and great And the world think 'em wife, Whilll I lie dying at her feet. And all that world defpife. Let conquering kings new trophies raife. And melt in court delights. Her eyes can give me brighter days. Her arms much foftcr nights. Dorset. DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 141 FROM all uneafy paffions free. Revenge, ambition, jealoufy. Contented, I had been too bleft If love and you had let me rell : Yet that dull life I now defpife; Safe from your eyes I fear*d no griefs, but then I found no joys. Amidft a thoufand kind defires Which beauty moves, and love infpires, Such pangs I feel of tender fear. No heart fo foft as mine can bear. Yet I'll defy the worft of harms. Such are your charms, 'Tis worth a life to die within your arms. OFT on the troubled ocean's face Loud ilormy winds arife; The murmuring furges fwell apace. And clouds obfcure the fkies. But 142 PASSIONATE AND But when the tempeft's rage is o'er. Soft breezes fmooth the main ; The billows ceafe to lafh the Ihore, And all is calm again. Not fo in fond and amorous fouls If tyrant love once reigns. There one eternal tempeft rolls And yields unceafing pains. FLY, thoughtlefs youth, th' enchantrefs fly ! * To other climes direfl thy way ; Let honours plume attraft thine eye. Nor wafte in indolence the day : She nor regards thy fighs or tears. She triumphs in thy jealous fears. And would rejoice to blaft the blofibm of thy years. Yet * This piece is taken from a late publication entitled 5^«//- jnentalTalcsy in which the loves of Catullus and Lesbia are formed into a fidtitious ftory, intermixed with feveral poetical tranilations and imitations from CatuUus's Works. — This however feems entirely original. DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 143 Yet yonder myrtle's fragrant fhade. Where fparkling winds the cryftal rill. Has feen this falfe, this cruel maid. Fond as her wanton lover's will : Has feen thee on her breaft reclin'd. Has feen her arms around thee twin'd. While with carefTes fweet flie woo'd thee to be kind. But fince no more th' inconftant fair Will liflen to thy tender vow. Let nobler objefls claim thy care. And bid the faithlefs maid adieu. Adieu, falfe beauty ! hence no more Catullus will thy fmile implore. To fhun thy hated charms he feeks a foreign Ihore, Him thou wilt mourn, when fure decay Shall rob that form of every grace ; And for each charm it fleals away, Shall add a wrinkle to that face : No lover then for thee will figh. Or read the glances of thine eye. Or on thy once lovM breaft in amorous tranfports die. Alas Catullus ! you in vain Woqld fpurn imperial beauty's fway ; Faft 144 PASSIONATE AND Fall bound in Venus* magic chain, Soon will each rebel wilh decay : Ev'n now, Ihould Lesbia hither move In her accuftom'd looks of love, How weak,how feeble all thy ftrong refol ves would prove. PREPARED to rail, refolved to part. When I approach the perjur'd maid What is it awes my timorous heart ? Why is my tongue afraid ? With the leaft glance a little kind Such wond'rous power have Myra's charms. She calms my doubts, enflaves my mind. And all my rage difarms. Forgetful of her broken vows When gazing on that form divine. Her injur'd vaffal trembling bows. Nor dares her flave repine. Landsdown. DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 14^ COME all ye youths whofe hearts e'er bled. By cruel beauty's pride ; Bring each a garland on his head. Let none his forrows hide : But hand in hand around me move. Singing the faddeft tales of love ; And fee, when your complaints ye join. If all your wrongs can equal mine. The happieft mortal once was I, My heart no forrows knew ; Pity the pain with which I die, But afk not whence it grew : Yet if a tempting fair you find. That's very lovely, very kind, Tho' bright as Heaven whofe ftamp fhe bears. Think of my fate, and Ihun her fnares. Otway 146 PASSIONATE AND ON a bank, befide a willow Heaven her covering, earth her pillow. Sad Aminta figh'd alone: From the chearlefs dawn of morning. Till the dews of night returning. Singing, thus fhe made her moan ; Hope is banifh'd Joys are vaniih*d Damon, my belovM, is gone. Time, I dare thee to difcover Such a youth, and fuch a lover. Oh ! fo true, fo kind was he ! Damon was the pride of nature. Charming in his every feature, Damon liv'd alone for me j Melting kifTes, Murmuring blifTes, Who fo liv*d and lov'd as we > Never D.ESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 147 Never fhall we curfe the morning, Never blefs the night returning, Sweet embraces to reftore ; Never fhall we both lie dying, Nature failing, love fupplying All the joys he drain'd before : Death come end me To befriend me ; Love and Damon are no more ! Drydex. TO the brook and the willow that heard him complain , Ah willow ! willow ! Poor Colin went weeping, and told them his pain. Ah willow ! willow 1 Sweet ftream, he cry'd, fadly 1*11 teach thee to flow. Ah willow ! willow ! And the waters Ihall rife to the brink with my woe. Ah willow ! willow ! All reftlefs and painful my Celia now lies. Ah willow I willow ! K 2 And 148 PASSIONATE AND And counts the fad moments of time as it flies : Ah willow ! willow ! To the nymph, my heart's love, ye foft flumbers repair. Ah willow ! willow ! Spread yourdowny wings o'er her,and makeher your care; Ah willow ! willow ! Let me be left reftlefs, mine eyes never clofe. Ah willow I willow ! So the fleep that I lofe give my dear one repofe. Ah willow ! willow ! Sweet flream ! if you chance by her pillow to creep, Ah willow I willow ! Perhaps your foft murmurs may lull her to fleep. Ah willow ! willow ! But if I am doom'd to be wretched indeed. Ah willow ! willow ! And the lofs of my charmer the fates have decreed. Ah willow ! willow ! Believe me, thou fair one, thou dear one, believe. Ah willow 1 willow I Few fighs to thy lofs, and few tears will I give j Ah willow 1 willow ! One fate to thy Colin and thee fliall betide. Ah willow ! willow ! And foon lay thy Ihepherd down by thy cold fide. Ah willow ! willow ! Then DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 149 Then glide gentle brook, and to lofe thyfelf hafte. Ah willow I willow ! Bear this to my willow ; this verfe is my laft. Ah willow ! willow ! Ah willow, willow ! RowE. TO fair Fidele's grafiy tomb Soft maids, and village hinds ihall bring Each op'ning fweet of earliefl bloom. And rifle all the breathing fpring. No wailing ghoft fliall dare appear To vex with fhrieks this quiet grove. But Ihepherd lads aflemble here. And melting virgins own their love. No withered witch fhall here be feen. No goblins lead their nightly crew ; But female fays fhall haunt the green. And drefs thy grave with pearly dew. K 3 The 150 PASSIONATE AND The red bread oft at evening hours Shall kindly lend his little aid. With hoary mofs and gather'd flow'rs To deck the ground where thou art laid. When howling winds and beating rain In tempefls ihake the fylvan cell ; Or midft the chace upon the plain Ths tender thought on thee fhall dwell. Each lovely fcene fhall thee reftore. For thee the tear be duly fhed ; BelovM, till life could charm no more. And mourn'd, till pity's felf be dead. Collins. WHEN here Lucinda firfl: we came Where Arno rolls his filver ftream. How blythe the nymphs, the fwains how gay. Content infpir'd each rural lay. The DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 151 The birds in livelier concert fung. The grapes in thicker clufters hung, All look'd as joy could never fail Among the fweets of Arno's vale. But now fince good Pal/emon died. The chief of fhepherds and the pride. Old Arno's fons mufl: all give place To northern fwains, an iron race. The tafte of pleafure now is o'er. Thy notes Lucinda pleafe no more. The mufes droop, the Goths prevail. Adieu the fweets of Arno's vale. Dorset. WHEN lovely vvOxTian Hoops to folly. And finds too late that men betray, What charm can footh her melancholy ? What art can wafh her guilt away ? K4 The 152 PASSIONATE AND The only art her guilt to cover. To hide her fhame from every eye. To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bofom, is, — to die. Goldsmith. TELL my Strephon that I die; Let ecchoes to each other tell. Till the mournful accents fly To Strephon's ear, and all is well. But gently breathe the fatal truth. And foften every harfher found. For Strephon's fuch a tender youth. The foftefl: words too deep will wound. Now fountains, ecchoes, all be dumb ; For ihould I coft my fwain a tear, I fhould repent it in my tomb. And grieve I bought my reft fo dear. DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 153 FROM place to place, forlorn, I go. With down caft eyes, a fiient fhade ; Forbidden to declare my woe ; To fpeak, till fpoken to, afraid. My inward pangs, my fecret grief. My foft confenting looks betray ; He loves, but gives me no relief; Why fpeaks not he who may ? Steel. THERE is one dark and fallen hour. Which fate decrees our lives fhouldknow, Elfe we fhould flight th* almighty power. Wrapt in the joys we find below : Ti$ 154 PASSIONATE AND Tis paft, dear Cynthia, now let frowns begone, A long, long penuance I have done For crimes, alas! to me unknown. In each foft hour of filent night Your image in my dream appears ; I grafp the foul of my delight. Slumber in joys, but wake in tears : Ah ! faithlefs charming faint, what will you do ? Let me not think I am by you Lov'd lefs for being true. FAIR, and foft, and gay, and young, All charm ! fhe play'd, fhe danc'd, Ihe fung, There was no way to 'fcape the dart. No care could guard the lover's heart* Ah ! why, cry'd I, and dropt a tear, (Adoring, yet defpairing e'er To have her to myfelf alone) Was fo much fweetnefs made for one ? But DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 155 But growing bolder, in her ear I in foft numbers told my care : She heard, and raised me from her feet. And feem'd to glow with equal heat. Like heaven's, too mighty to exprefs. My joys could but be known by gue(s ! Ah ! fool, faid I, what have [ done. To wifh her made for more than one ? But long I had not been in view. Before her eyes their beams withdrew ; E'er I had reckon'd half her charms She funk into another's arms. But Ihe that once could faithlefs be. Will favour him no more than me : He too will find himfclf undone. And that Ihe was not made for one. THO* cruel you feem to my pain, And hate me becaufe 1 am true ; Yet, Phyllis, you love a fallc fwain. Who has other nymphs ia his view. Enjoyment's 156 PASSIONATE AND Enjoyment's a trifle to him. To me what a heaven t*would be ! To him but a woman you feem. But, ah ! you're an angel to me. Thofe lips which he touches in hafte To them I forever could grow ; Still clinging around that dear waift Which he fpans as befide him you go. That arm, like a lilly Co white. Which over his fhoulders you lay. My bofom could warm it all night. My lips they could prefs it all day. Were I like a monarch to reign. Were graces my fubjefts to be, I'd leave them, and fly to the plain. To dwell in a cottage with thee. But if I mufl feel your difdain. If tears cannot cruelty drown. Oh ! let me not live in this pain. But give me my death in a frown. DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 15; YE happy fwalns whofe hearts are free From love's imperial chain. Take warning and be taught by me T' avoid th' inchanting pain ; Fatal the wolves to trembling flocks. Fierce winds to bloflbms prove. To carelefs feamen hidden rocks. To human quiet love. Fly the 'fair fex if blifs you prize. The fnake's beneath the flower ; Who ever gaz'd on beauteous eyes That tailed quiet more ? How faithlefs is the lover's joy ! How conftant is their care ! The kind with falflihood to deflroy. The cruel with defpair. Etheridgb^ 158 PASSIONATE AND WHEN your beauty appears In its graces and airs. All bright as an angel new dropt from the iky ; At diftance I gaze, and am aw'd by my fears. So ftrangely you dazzle my eye ! But when without art. Your kind thoughts you impart. When your love runs in blulhes thro' every vein ; When it darts from your eyes, when it pants in your heart, Then I know you're a woman again. There's a paffion and pride In our fex, Ihe reply'd. And thus, might I gratify both, would I do ; Still an angel appear to each lover befide, But yet be a woman to you. DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 159 As Amoret with Phillis fat One evening on the plain. And faw the gentle Strephon wait To tell the nymph his pain. The threatning danger to remove. She whifper'd in her ear. Ah Phillis ! if you would not love. That ihepherd do not hear. None ever had fo ftrange an art His paflion to convey Into a liftning virgin's heart. And fteal her foul away. Fly, fly betimes for fear you give Occafion for your fate. In vain faid ihe, in vain I drive ; Alas ! 'tis now too late. i6o PASSIONATE AND CAN love be controuPd by advice Can madnefs and reafon agree ? O Molly, who'd ever be wife. If madnefs is loving of thee ? Let fages pretend to defpife The joys they want fpirits to tafte. Let us feize old time as he flies. And the bleflings of life while they lall. Dull wifdom but adds to our cares ; Brifk love will improve ev*ry joy. Too foon we may meet with gray hairs. Too late may repent being coy. Then Molly, for what fhould we Hay Till our beft blood begins to run cold ? Our youth we can have but to day. We may always find time to grow old. DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 161 MORTALS, learn your lives to meafure Not by length of time, but pleafure ; Now the hours invite, comply ; While you idly paufe, they fly : Bleft, a nimble pace they keep. But in torment, then they creep. Mortals, learn your lives to meafure Not by length of time, but pleafure ; Soon your fpring mad have a fall; Lofing youth, is lofing all : Then you'll alk, but none will give. And may linger, but not live. BID me when forty winters more Have furrovv'd deep my pallid brow* When from my head, a fcanty (lore Lankly the wither'd trcfles flow ; L When i62 PASSIONATE AND When the warm tide,, that bold and ftrong Now rolls impetuous on and free, Languid and flow fcarce creeps along, Then bid me court fobriety. Nature who form'd the varied fcenc Of rage and calm, of froll and fire. Unerring guide, could only mean. That age fliould reafon, youth defire. Shall then that rebel man, prefume (Inverting nature's law) to feize The dues of ag£ in youth's high bloom, And join impoflibilities ? No — let me vvafle the frolic May In wanton joys and wild excefs. In revel fport and laughter gay And mirth, and rofy chearfulnefs ; Woman, the foul of all delights. And wine the aid of love be near j All charms me that to joy incites. And every flie that's kind is fair. •DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 163 TELL me not I my time mifpend, 'Tis time lofl to reprove me; Purfue thou thine, I have my end. So Chloris only love me. Tell me not others flocks are full. Mine poor, let them defpife me Who more abound in milk and wool. So Chloris only prize me. Tire others eafier ears with tliefe Unappertaining flories ; He never feels the worlds difeafc Who cares not for her glories. For pity, thou that wifer art, Whofe thoughts lie wide of mine> Let me alone with my own heart, And I'll oe*er envy thine. L 2 Nor i64 PASSIONATE AND Nor blame him, whoe'er blames my wit. That feeks no higher prize. Than in unenvy'd Ihades to fit. And iing of Chloris' eyes. Eaton. WHY cruel creature, why fo bent. To vex a tender heart ? To gold and title you relent ; Love throws in vain his dart. Let glitt'ring fops in courts be great. For pay let armies move : Beauty fhould have no other bait. But gentle vows and love. If on thofe endlefs charms you lay The value that's their due ; Kings are themfelves too poor to pay; A thoufand worlds too few. But DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 165 But if a paflion without vice. Without difguife or art, Ah Celi A ! if true love's your price. Behold it in my heart. Landsdown. FOREVER, fortune, wilt thou prove An unrelenting foe to love ; And when we meet a mutual heart. Come in between and bid us part. Bid us iigh on from day to day. And wilh, and wi(h the foul away, Till youth and genial years are flown, And all the life of life is gone. But bufy, bufy flill art thon. To bind the lovelefs joylefs vow. The heart from pleafure to delude. And join the gentle to the rude. L3 For i66 PASSIONATE AND For once, O fortune ! hear my pray*r. And I abfolve thy future care ; All other wifhes I refign, Make but the dear Amanda mine. YOUNG I am and yet unfkilPd How to make a lover yield ; How to keep, and how to gain, When to love, and when to feign. Take me, take me fome of you While I yet am young and true ; E'er I can my foul difguife. Heave my breafts, and roll my eyes. Stay not till I learn the way How to lye and to betray ; He that has me firft, is bleft, For I may deceive the reft. Could DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 167 Could I find a blooming youth Full of love, and full of truth, Brifk, and of a janty mien, I fhould long to be fifteen. SAY not, Olinda, I defpife The faded glories of your face, The languifhed vigour of your eyes. And that once only-lovM embrace. In vain, in vain, my conftant heart On aged wings, attempts to meet. With wonted fpeed, thofe flames you dart, It faints, and flutters at your feet. I blame not your decay of power. You may have pointed beauties fllll, Tho* me, alas ! they wound no more ; You cannot hurt what cannot feel. L4 On i68 PASSIONATE AND On youthful climes your beams difplay. There you may cherifh with your heat. And rife the fun to gild their day. To me, benighted, when you fet. DEAR Chloe while thus beyond meafure You treat me with doubts and difdain 5 You rob all your youth of its pleafure. And hoard up an old age of pain : Your maxim that love is Hill founded On charms that will quickly decay. You will find to be very ill grounded When once you its didates obey. The paflion from beauty firft drawn Your kindnefs will vaftly improve ; Soft looks and gay fmiles are the dawn. Fruition's the fun Ihine of love : And tho' the bright beams of your eyes Should be clouded, that pow are fo gay. And darknefs obfcure all the fkies. We ne'er can forget it was day. Old DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 169 Old Darby with Joan by his fide You oft have regarded with wonder ; He is dropfical, flie is fore-ey'd. Yet they're ever uneafy afunder; Together they totter about And fit in the fun at the door. And at night when old Darby's pot's out His Joan will not fmoke a whift' more. No beauty nor wit they poffefs Their feveral failings to fmother. Then what are the charms can you guefs That makes them fo fond of each other ? 'Tis the pleafing remembrance of youth, The endearments that love did beflow. The thoughts of pad pleafurc and truth, • The belt of all bleffings below. Thefe traces forever will laft Which ficknefs nor time can remove ; For when youth and beauty are part. And age brings the winter of love, A friendihip infenfibly grows. By reviews of fuch r^fptures as thefe. And the current of fondnefs ftill flows Which decrepid old age cannot freeze. i;o PASSIONATE AND AWAY, let nought to love difpleafing My Winifred A move thy fear. Let nought delay the heavenly bleffing, Nor fqueamilh pride ; nor gloomy care. What tho* no grants of royal donors With pompous titles grace our blood. We'll fhine in more fubllantial honours. And to be noble we'll be good. What tho' from fortune's lavifli bounty No mighty treafures we poiTefs, We'll find within our pittance plenty. And be content without excefs. Still fhall each kind returning feafon Sufficient for our wifhes give. For we will live a life of reafon. And that's the only life to live. Our DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 171 Our name while virtue thus we tender Shall fweetly found where'er 'tis fpoke, And all the great ones much fhall wonder How they admire fuch little folk. Thro* youth and age in love excelling We'll hand in hand together tread. Sweet fmiling peace Ihall crown our dwelling, And babes, fweet fmiling babes, our bed. How ihould I love the pretty creatures Whilft round my knees they fondly clung. To fee them look their mother's features. To hear 'em lifp their mother's tongue. And when with envy time tranfported Shall think to rob us of our joys ; You'll in your girls again be courted. And I'll go wooing in my boys. Gilbert Cooper. ,72 PASSIONATE AND O NANCY, wilt thou go with me. Nor figh to leave the flaunting town : Can lilent glens have charms for thee. The lowly cot and ruflet gown ? No longer dreft in filken fheen. No longer deck'd with jewels rare. Say can*ft thou quit each courtly fcene. Where thou wert faireft of the fair ? O Nancy ! when thou*rt far away. Wilt thou not call a wiih behind ? Say can'il thou face the parching ray. Nor flirink before the wintry wind ? O can that foft and gentle mien Extremes of hardfhip learn to bear. Nor fad regret each courtly fcene. Where thou wert faireft of the fair ? O Nancy ! canft thou love fo true. Thro' perils keen with me to go. Or when thy fwain milhap Ihall rue. To (hare with him the pang of woe ? Say DESCRIPTIVE SONGS. 173 Say fhould difeafe or pain befal. Wilt thou aflume the nurfe's care, Nor wiftful thofe gay fcenes recal Where thou wert faireft of the fair ? And when at laft thy love fhall die. Wilt thou receive his parting breath 5 Wilt thou reprefs each ftruggling figh, And chear with fmiles the bed of death ? And wilt thou o'er his breathlefs clay Strew flowers and drop the tender tear; Nor then regret thofe fcenes fo gay. Where thou wert faireft of the fair ? Perct, 174 ON INGENIOUS AND IV. ESSAY O N INGENIOUS AND WITTY S O N G S. THERE is no produft of mental cul- tivation for which we are fo little indebted to the antients, as wit. This has been obferved in a former EfTay to be the lateil growth of the mind> and the antients WITTY SONGS. 175 antients had fcarcely attained to it, before the deluge of gothic barbarity broke in, and fwept away all the tender plants of literary genius. Though fome of their early writers carried fublimity and beauty to their high- eft perfection, yet were they in general utterly devoid of a juft tafte for that ele- gant and delightful artifice of compofition termed wit, and their attempts in it were to the higheft degree coarfe and unpolifh- ed. Ovid had a brilliancy and artificial turn of fancy, which frequently produced true wit, but more frequently that falfe glitter which is only its counterfeit. Mar- tial advanced fo far as to give perfcd mo- dels of his particular branch of wit, the epigrammatic ; yet a prevailing number of faulty pieces demonftrates that he was void of judgment to diftinguifh the moft ex- cellent parts of a faculty which he pofTeffed. By 176 ON INGENIOUS AND By the Lyric poets wit appears to have been quite unknown or difregarded. Ana- creon and Horace, have indeed a gaiety and fmartnefs of fentiment, but extremely different from the turn of thought in fuch modern pieces as we Ihall include in the prefent clafs. A TASTE for true wit foon followed the revival of learning and the fine arts in Europe ; for, modern literature being founded upon the clafiical remains of an- tiquity, had not a tedious gradation to go through, but acquired immediate refine- ment -, and genius awaking from her long (lumber, feemed to proceed towards per- fedlion as if fhe had never been interrupt- ed. Italy, where the arts had been en- tombed, firfl felt the genial warmth of their revival. Every elegant produ6lion there Ihone forth with its wonted luftre ; and wit, peculiarly favoured by the tem- per WITTY SONGS. 177 per of the inhabitants, flouriflicd more ex- tenfively and with greater brilliancy than it had ever done. From thence it made excurfions into Spain and France, and came late, but in full vigour and maturity into England. After having in time refined itfelf from the debafing mixture of quibble and conceit, it became fo univerfally ad- mired and fought after, that a confiderable period of Englifh genius may be diftin- guifhed by the title of the witty ^ra. Du- ring this period, the dominion of wit was fo extenfive, that it ufurped a place in fe- veral compofitions where its prefence was altogether improper, and foreign to the purpofe •, this however does not appear to be the cafe with refped to its alliance with the Lyric mufe, whofe verfitility of charac- ter is fuch, that Hie is capable of adapting herfelf to the fprightly and ludicrous, equally with the tender and pathetic. M Various 178 ON INGENIOUS AND Various writers have attempted to give a definition of wit, but like moft of the qualities of thought, it is more eafily de- fcribed, and pointed out by inftances, than defined. Opinion has confiderably varied concerning the proper application of this term ; for while our oldeil authors ufe it to fignify knowledge and good fenfe in general, the fucceeding reftrain it to what is called fine writings and its more modern fignification is flill farther limited. Fine writing has been ingenioufly defined to confift oi thoughts^ natural^ but not obvious \ the effeds of which are, that befides the emotions or fenfations excited by their par- ticular nature, they alfo occafion a degree of pleafing furprize at their uncommonnefs. Surprize is alfo the efi^ed; which charader- ifes wit; but in this it is fo much more the objed, that fcarcely any other effed, ex- cept what fecondarily refults from it, is produced. The thought therefore is nei- ther WITTY SONGS. 179 ther obvious nor natural, but entirely ar- tificial. The beft definition of wit I take to be that of Locke and Addifon, thus con- tradled by Lord Kaims : a jun^ion of things by diftant and fanciful relations^ which fur- " "prize becaufe they are unexpected. The figures of comparifon^ fimile, allu- fion, metaphor and allegory, being the mofl obvious means of jundtion between different objeds, will, from this definition, appear to be the chief fources of wit. Comparifon is uled for various purpofes. It is employed in grave and didadic fub- je6ts for the fake of illuftration. In fublime and pathetic poetry it is ufed to elevate and adorn, and like a refleded light to redouble the efi^ed of the fimple obje6t. For both thefe purpofes it is evident, that the more complete the refemblance is, be- M 2 tween i8o ON INGENIOUS AND tween the objedl of comparifon and thing compared, the more perfe6lly the intention is anfwered. The mind is pleafed at dif- covering a number of concurring circum- ftances; and by minutely touching upon fimilar parts in both objeds, the emotion is heightened. This is finely exemplified by that beautiful fimile in Virgil, where the lamentation of Orpheus for the lofs of his Eurydice is compared to that of a nightingale robbed of its young. The thought itfelf, though beautiful, is nothing new or uncommon-, but the poet's Ikill and judgment is fhewn in particularizing, with a minutenefs of defcription, fuch cir- cumftances of the compared objed as fweetly correfpond with the pathetic turn of the original ftory. Qualis popuiea moerens Philomela fub umbra AmifTos queritur foetus, quos durus arator Obfervans nido implumes detraxit : at ilia WITTY SONGS. i8i Fletno6lem,ramoquefedensmiferabile carmen Integral, & moeftis late loca queftibus implet. Georgic. IV. As in fome poplar fliade the nightingale. With piercing moans does her loll young bewail. Which the rough hind, obferving as they lay Warm in their downy neft, had ftol'n away : But fhe in mournful founds does Hill complain Sings all the night, tho' all her fongs are vain. And ftill renews her miferable ftrain. 1 Lee's 'Theodoftus. When comparifon is employed as the fource of wit, its excellence lies in fuch oppofite qualities, that the more diflimilar the objeds are in general circumftances, the more ftrongly do they promote that efFed, which as the definition imports, proceeds from thtjunSfion of things by dif- M 3 tan^ i82 ON INGENIOUS AND tant and fanciful relations. Thus in the following fimile from Hudibras, Now like a lobiler boil'd, the morn From black to red began to turn. the total diffimilarity of the objeds in every circumftance, except that which brings them forcibly together, raifes the highefl degree of furprize. For this reafon, contraft joined to com- parifon perfedls the idea of wit : And as the efFed of this is almoft always ludicrous., one is apt to confider it as an effential property of wit that the furprize excited fhould have fomething comic or mirthful in it. Lord Kaims appears to have fallen into this opinion, yet if we take our ideas of wit from fuch inftances as have ever been allowed ftandard examples of perfec- tion, we Ihall find that this rule cannot be WITTY SONGS. 183 be admitted without the exclufion of the fineft thoughts in our moft witty writers. Cowley and Waller abound in inllances of ferious and delicate wit, which to a high degree caufe furprize and admirati- on, but totally unmixed with any thing ludicrous. I might copy almofl their whole works, with thofe of all the amo- rous and gallant poets in that age for fuch examples. It would be an unprecedented feverity to deny wit to Waller's celebrated allufion to the ilory of Apollo and Daphne; Like Phoebus, thus, acquiring unfought praife. He catcht at love, but fiU'd his arms with bays. The following inftance, (fi'om Mrs. Greville's prayer for indifference) which even nearly approaches to the pathetic, muft be allowed to pofTefs real wit. M 4 Nor i84 ON INGENIOUS AND Nor eafe nor peace that heart can know. That like the needle true. Turns at the touch of joy or woe. But turning, trembles too. Even Hudibras, which affords fuch a profufion of ludicrous wit, contains alfo fome of the ferious kind. Thus, referring to the conflancy of an unfavoured lover, there is this delicately witty fimile. True as the dial to the fun Altho' it be not flain'd upon. Comparison is not the only fourcc from whence wit is derived. The agree- able furprize which charafterifcs it, is pro- duced not only by the unexpeded jundion of an obje6l with another foreign to it, but from fome uncommon turn of a thought, as it were, within itfelf ; where fome unexpedted dedu(5tion is made from the WITTY SONGS. 185 the premifes ; or in other words, to fpeak in the language of the definition, where the relation of caufe and effedb, antecedent and confequent, is diftant and fancifuL This kind of wit is chiefly to be met with in epigram, and the variations in thofe pieces which are promifcuoufly ranged under this title, will very well fcrve to point out the circumflances by which a thought becomes ingenious and witty. The original Greek epigram was mere- ly, as its name imports, an infcription, containing a fmgle thought, fimply turned and exprefled. It was generally fome moral fentence, or fome plain fa6t relating to the particular fubjed of the infcription; and its fole merit confided in propriety of exprefllon, and harmony of verfification. In fhort, let critics as much as they pleafe affed to admire the fimplicity of the Greek epigram, it was certainly a very infipid piece i86 ON INGENIOUS AND piece of compofition. Martial, firft of any writer whofe works are defcended to our time, changed the nature of the epi- gram, by introducing unufual thoughts, and artificial turns of fentiment. Some of his epigrams exadily anfwer the idea of fine writing before given ; confifting of natural, but uncommon thoughts, and exciting rather a calm admiration and ap- plaufe, than a fudden furprize. To thefe, the term of ingenious^ may, I think, be properly applied. The following exam- ples are tranllated fi'om him. When all the blandifhments of life are gone. The coward creeps to death; the brave Hves on. I offer love, but thou refped; wilt have ; Take, Sextus, all thy pride and folly crave But know I can be no man's friend and (lave. :! He's & WITTY SONGS. 187 He's grave andfober — well, what's that tome? Such let my Have, not my companion be. Add this of Prior, Blefl: be the princes who have fought For pompous names, or wide dominion ; Since by their error we are taught That happinefs is but opinion. If with thefe the following inftances be carefully compared, it will perhaps go nearer than abftrad: definitions can do, to give a juft notion of the gradation from fine writing and ingenuity, to wit. The golden hair that Galla wears. Is hers ; who would have thought it ? She fwears 'tis hers, and true Ihe fwears, For I know where Ihe bought it. Whilft x88 ON INGENIOUS AND Whilft in the dark on thy foft hand I hung, And heard the tempting Syren in thy tongue, Whatflames,whatdarts,whatangui(hlendur'd! But when the candle enter'd, I was cur'd. Cinna cries out I am not worth a groat ; And is5plague on him! what he would be thought. On his death-bed poor Lubin lies. His fpoufe is in defpair^ With frequent fobs, and mutual cries, They both exprefs their care. A different caufe, fays parfon Sly, The fame effedl may give ; Poor Lubin fears that he Ihall die ; His wife, that he may live. On WITTY SONGS. 189 On a Lady's Patch. That envious fpeck upon your face Had been a foil on one lefs fair. On you it hides a charming grace. And you, in mercy, placed it there* She gazes all around her. And wins a thoufand hearts ; But Cupid cannot wound her. For Ihe has all his darts. In all thefe, an unexpe6led conclufion from the premifes, or accounting for ef- feds by fanciful caufes, excites that fud- den emotion oi fur prize ^ which is the fur- tft mark of a witty conception. 1 HAVE purpofeiy feleded fome ludi- crous and fome ferious inftances, to Ihow that in this branch of wir, as well as in that igo ON INGENIOUS AND that arifing from comparifon, the effe6t may vary without effentially altering its quality. These brief obfervations on the nature of wit in general, are not offered either as new, or as fufficient for the accurate dif- cufTion of fo nice a fubjed ; but they ap- peared neceflary to introduce our particu- lar remarks upon the clafs of witty and ingenious fongs , and I fhall now proceed to them. An artificial turn of thought was at one time fo much the falhion in fono- writino:, that, as before obferved, Mr. Phillips feems to confider it as effential to this fpecies of compofition. This unavoida- bly led him to take notice of the difficulty in diftinguifhing between fong and epigram^ yet he has done nothing towards removing it. The truth is, that in like manner as the WITTY SONGS. 191 the pafllonate fong is fomctimes entirely the fame with the amorous ode^ fo the wit- ty and ingenious fong is entirely the fame with the epigram. Yet, in this cafe, as well as in the former, there are peculiar charadbcrs of each, which in general ren- der it fuHiciently obvious what name to apply. The epigram is a fingle piece of wit, put into verfe. Its perfe61:ion confifts in great brevity, eafe and perfpicuity of lan- guage, and in fuch a manner of conducing the thought as to conclude with that ftriking turn which conilitutes the point of wit. Its mod happy fubjeft feems to be laughable fatire, and the fpecies of wit molt proper to it, that depending upon the artificial turn of a thought within it- felf, and not a figure of comparifon. A fono; has been defined to confift alfo of a fingle thought, but divided into return- ing 192 ON INGENIOUS AND ing portions of meafure, fo as to be fitted for mufic. Its fubjed has been in gene- ral reflrided to love and gaiety, and its poetical charader ought not to depend upon harmony of verfification alone, but upon fome of thofe ornamental figures which elevate fenriment and defcription above the pitch of ordinary language. Hence the wit mofl proper to fong- writing is of that kind which arifes from imagery and comparifon, and a mere repartee in verfe will not come up to the ftrain of poetry expeded in a fong. For this rea- fon I Ihould not hefitate to pronounce the little French piece which Mr. Phillips fays pafTes abroad for an excellent fong, an e- pigram and no fong. Thou fpeakeft always ill of me^ I fpeak always well of thee ; Yet fpite of all our noife and pother. The world believes nor one nor t'other. Here WITTY SONGS. 193 Here is not one circumftance which agrees with the true charader of fong- writing. When the epigram is upon a fubjed within the province of love or wine, and its meafure has the variety and uniformity which fuits the union with mufic, it becomes much more dubious by what term to diilinguilli it. There is an extremely apt inftance in Congreve's Double Dealer^ (A61 III. Scene 10.) not only with refped to the piece itfelf, but his own opinion of this difficulty, which is given by the mouth of one of the cha- radtcrs. Brijk, " 'Tis not a fong neither — 'tis a fort of epigram, or rather an epigramma- tic fonnet , I don't know what to call it, but it's fatire." Ancient Phillis has young graces, *Tis a ftrange thing, but a true one ; Shall I tell you how ? N SJie 194 ON INGENIOUS AND She herfelf makes her own faces. And each morning wears a new one ; Where's the wonder now ? In the following colle6lion feveral in- ftances of this kind will be met with, which the circumflance of meafure alone has determined me without fcruple to ad- mit in the rank of fongs. I cannot point out a more complete example than a piece of Lord Landfdown's \ Chloe's the wonder of her fex. It is univerfally agreed that abfolute finglenefs of thought is eflential to the epigram. Whether this rule be fo ftridly applicable to the fong, will admit of fome difcuflion. Mr. Phillips very juftly cen- fures the great licentioufnefs of Cowley, and fome of our mofl witty poets, in the variety of thoughts which they admit into their WITTY SONGS. 195 their fongs. A fucceflion of new ideas ftarted in every line, juft touched upon, and immediately loft, diftrafts the atten- tion, and enfeebles the effedl of the whole*, and amidft the profufion of ornament, real elegance and beauty is overwhelmed. Yet if the ornamental charadler of Lyric poe- try be confidered, it will not perhaps ap- pear inconfiftent with a juft tafte, that the fingle original thought, which is the foun- dation of every piece, may through the courfe of feveral ftanzas be enlivened with a moderate variety of imagery, if the ge- neral tendency of the whole be fimilar, and if the moft ftriking point be referved for the conclulion. Wit, indeed, in its high- eft perfedion, is a rarity of too rich a tafte and too delicious a flavour, to be devoured like common food ; it is properly the de- fert that crowns the feaft, and it rather fhows the glutton than the true epicure to to take it promifcuoully with other things. N 2 For 196 ON INGENIOUS AND For this reafon, though there may be in 2L fong a variety of fuch ingenious turns as come under the (denomination of fine writing, yet the point of genuine wit ought to be fmgle. The furprife which it excites, is of a kind that does not mix readily with any other emotion, and when it occurs in different parts of a fong, it feems to divide it into fo many diftind portions. Thus, the following piece rather appears like three epigrams united, than a connedled fong. Cofmelia's charms infpire my lays ; Who young in nature's fcorn. Blooms in the winter of her days, Like Glailonbury thorn. Cofmelia cruel at three-fcore. Like bards in modern plays. Four a6ls of life pafs'd guiltlefs o'er. But in the fifth Ihe (lays. If WITTY SONGS. 197 If e'er impatient for the blifs Within her arms you fall^ The plafter'd fair returns the kifs. Like Thifbe, thro' a wall. There cannot be a more complete in- ftance of fine tafte and elegant fimplicity in the management of a witty conception, than in the fong. Why will Florella while I gaze, and among a variety of beautiful pieces of a fimilar kind which this collection af- fords, I would Bx upon it as the moft perfe6b. The two. fongs by which Mr. Phillips exemplifies his idea of fong- writing, On Belvidera's bofom lying, and Boaft nor miftaken fwain thy art, N 3 mufl 198 ON INGENIOUS AND muft be acknowledged finifhed pieces of the ingenious fong, where, without any remarkable brilliancy, there is a pleafing vein of uncommon fentiment exprefled with great delicacy of language, and ma- naged fo as to conclude with a ilriking turn of thought. For this kind of writing he juftly cites the French as pecuHarly excellent; and it may not be improper to give a few Ipe- cimens of their fongs, by way of compari- fon with ours of a fimilar turn. Quand le fage Damon dit, que d*un trait mortel, L'Amour bleffe les ceurs fans qu'ils ofent s'cn plaindre; Que c'eft un Dieu traitre & cruel, L'Amour pour moi n'eft pas a craindre. Mais quand le jeune Atis me vient dire a fon tour, Ce Dieu n*efl: q'un enfant, doux, carefTant, aimable. Plus beau mille fois que le jour ; Que je le trouve redoutable ! Pie« WITTY SONGS. 199 Dieu des amants, viens accorder ma lyre. Me pourrois-tu refufer mes le9ons ? La jeune Iris, Thonneur de ton empire. Attend de moi d'amoureufes chanfons. A mes accents rend la belle attentive, Fai moi trouver la route de fon ceur ; Viens endormir une raifon craintive. Qui lui defend d'ecouter ma langeur. Va, dit 1* Amour, j'exauce ta priere, Tu recevras la prix que tu pretends ; Aux petites foins d*un ceur tendre Sc fincere On ne fauroit fe refufer long tems. Pourriez vous bien etre encore inflexible, Apres ces mots du plus puiflant des Dieux? Quand il promit de vous rendrc fenfible, Charmante Iris, il etoit dans vos yeux. La Raifon n*eft pas raifonable, Bien fou qui s'en laiiTe charmer, Elle me dit, Iris, que vous etes aimable, £t me defend de vous aimer. N 4 Aimc 200 ON INGENIOUS AND Aime Iris, dit I'Amour, pnifque elle a fa te plairc, Profite dc? beaux jours de ta belle faifon ; Ma foi, I'Amour fur cette affaire Raifonne mieux que la raifon. Tircis, votre langeur extreme A pafle jufques dans mon cear; Parlez, il n'eft plus terns de feindre ; Mais vous ne dites rien, helas ! Aurois je le malheur de plaindre Un mal que je ne caufe pas. Le berger qui fuivoit mes loix Se derobe enfm a ma chaine ; Pour me croire trop inhumaine II vil fixer ailleurs fon choix. D*un inconflance fi cruelle Je me plaindrois avec eclat, Si Tircis n*etoit qu'infidelle ; Mais, par malheur, il eft ingrat. Fenfez WITTY SONGS. 201 Penfez y bien, jeune Climene, Rempliflez mes tendres defirs ; Helas ! ft pres de vous j^allois perdre ma peine Vous perdrirez mille plailirs. Autrefois la charmante Hortenfe Doiit mille amants formoient la cour, Par unt' heureufe preference. Me donna des lemons d*amour. Par elle j'appris Part de plairc, Ces tranfports, ces emr^ciTcmcnts, Ces petites foins, la grande affaire, Et la grande favoir des amants. Elle m'avoit inftruit a peine De ces doux mifteres d'amour, Qu' auffitot a la jeune Ifmene J*en fis des le5ons a mon tour. Mais en Pinftruifant comme on aimc Que j*aimois a voir fes progres ! Le plaifir d'etre inftruii moi meme Avoit ea pour moi moins d'attraits* Ifoiene 202 ON INGENIOUS SONGS, &c. rfmene eut toute ma tendrefle, Et mon eleve a mes regards Fut plus chere que ma maitrcfTe ; C'en eft ainfi dans tous les arts. Pourquoi foupirez vous charmante Celimene ? Vous qui caufez aux ceurs des feniibles tourments ? Ah ! 11 je foulageois une fi rude peine, Je guerirois auffi des maux que je reflens. Quand tu vois foupirer la trifle Celimene C*eft que Tamour la livre aux fenfibles tourments ; Ah ! s*il m'etoit permis de foulager ta peine, Je guerirois auffi des maux que je reflens. I INGENIOUS AND WITTY O N ON Belvidera's bofom lying, Wifhing, panting, iighing, dying; The cold regardlefs maid to move With unavailing prayers I fue ; You firft have taught me how to love. Ah ! teach me to be happy too. But (he, alas ! unkindly wife. To all my fighs and tears replies, 'Tis every prudent maid's concern HeL lover's fondnefs to improve s If to be happy you (hould learn. You quickly would forget to love. 204 INGENIOUS AND BOAST not, miftaken fwain, thy art To pleafe my partial eyes ; The charms that have fubdued my heart Another may defpife. Thy face is to my humour made. Another it may fright ; Perhaps by fome fond whim betrayed In oddnefs I delight. Vain youth, to your confufion know 'Tis to my love's excefs You all your fancied beauties owe. Which fade as that grows lefs. For your own fake, if not for mine, You fhould preferve my fire. Since you my fwain no more will fliine. When I no more admire. By WITTY SONGS, 205 By me indeed you are allovv'd The wonder of your kind ; But be not of my judgment proud Whom love has rendered blind. PniLLirs. MY love was fickle once and changing. Nor e'er would fettle in my heart. From beauty ftill to beauty ranging. In every face I found a dart. *Twas fir^ a charming fhape enllav'd mc. An eye then gave the fatal ftroke ; Till by her wit Corinna fav'd me, And all my former fetters broke. But now a long and lading anguifli For Belvidera I endure; Hourly I figh, and hourly languifli. Nor hope to find the wonted cure. For 2o6 INGENIOUS AND For here the falfe inconflant lover After a thoufand beauties fhown. Does new furprifing charms difcover. And finds variety in one. NOT, Celia, that I jufter am. Or truer than the reft ; For I would change each hour like them. Were it my inter eft. But Tm fo fix'd alone to thee By every thought I have. That Ihould you now my heart fet free 'T would be again your flave. All that in woman is ador'd In thy dear felf I find ; For the whole fex can but afford The handfome, and the kind. Not WITTY SONGS. jo; Not to my virtue, but thy power This conftancy is due. When change itfelf can give no more 'Tis eafy to be true. IT is not, Celia, in our power To fay how long our love will laft ; It may be we within this hour May lofe the joys we now do tafte : The blelTed that immortal be From change of love are only free. Then lince we mortal lovers are, Afk not how long our love will laft ; But while it does, let us take care Each minute be with pleafure paft : Were it not madnefs to deny To live, becaufe we're fure to die. Etheridge, ^o8 INGENIOUS AND CYNTHIA frowns whene'er I woo her, Yet Ihe's vex'd if I give over ; Much ftie fears I fliould undo her. But much more to lofe her lover : Thus in doubting ihe refufes, Aiid not winning thus fhe lofes. Pr*ythee Cynthia look behind you. Age and wrinkles will overtake you, Then too late defire will find you When the power does forfake you. Think, oh ! think, the fad condition To be paft, yet wilh fruition. CONGREVE. WITTY SONGS. 209 Love's but the frailty of the mind When 'tis not with ambition join'd ; A fickly flame, which if not fed expires. And feeding, waftcs in felf-confuming fires, 'Tis not to wound a wanton boy, Or amorous youth, that gives the joy ; But 'tis the glory to have pierced a fwain For whom inferionr beauties figh'd in vain. Then I alone the conquell prize. When I infult a rival's eyes ; If there's delight in love, 'tis when I fee The heart which others bleed for, bleed for me. O CONCREVE, 2IO INGENIOUS AND FAIR Amoret is gone aftray, Purfue and feek her, every lover; I'll tell the ligns by which you may The wand'ring fhepherdefs difcover. Coquet and coy at once her air. Both ftudy*d, tho* both feem negledled, Carelefs ihe is with artful care, AfFcfting to feem unafFefted. With feill her eyes dart every glance. Yet change fo foon you'd ne'er fufpeft 'em; For Ihe'd perfuade they wound by chance, Tho' certain aim and art direft 'em. She likes herfelf, yet others hates For that which in herfelf ihe prizes ; And, while fhe laughs at them, forgets She is the thing that ihe defpifes. CONGREVE. WITTY SONGS. 211 IN Chloris all foft charms agree, Inchanting humour, powerful wit. Beauty from aiFeflaticn free. And for eternal empire fit. Where'er flie goes love waits her eyes. The women envy, men adore j Tho* did fhe lefs the triumph prize. She would deferve the conqueft more. But vanity fo much prevails. She begs what none elfe would deny her. Makes fuch advances with her eyes. The hope fhe gives prevents defire : Catches at every trifling heart, Grows warm with every glimmVing flame; The common prey fo deads her dart. It fcarce can pierce a noble game. I could lie ages at her feet. Adore her carelefs of my pain, With tender vows her rigours meet, Defpair, love on, and not complain ; O 2 My 212 INGENIOUS AND My pafTion from all change fecure No favours raife, no frown controuls ; I any torment can endure But hoping with a crowd of fools. YES, FuLViA is like Venus fair, Has all her bloom and fliape and air ; But Hill to perfeft every grace. She wants — the fmile upon her face. The crown majellic Juno wore. And Cynthia's brow the crefcent bore, A helmet marked Minerva's mein; But fmiles diftinguilh'd beauty's queen. Her train was form'd of fmiles and loves. Her chariot drawn by gentleft doves. And from her zone the nymph may find 'Tis beauty's province to be kind. Then i WITTY SONGS. Then fmile my fair ; and all whofe aim Afpires to paint the Cyprian dame. Or bid her breathe in living ftone. Shall take their forms from you alone. 213 Shenstone. I TELL thee, Charmion, could I time retrieve. And could again begin to love and live. To you I Ihould my earlieft ofF'ring give ; I know my eyes would lead my heart to you. And I fhould all my oaths and vows renew. But, to be plain, I never would be true. For by our weak and weary truth, I find. Love hates to centre in a point alTign'd, But runs with joy the circle of the mind : Then let us never chain what fhould be free. But for relief of either fex agree ; Since women love to change, and fo do we. CONGREVE. Oj 214 INGENIOUS AND DAMON, if you will believe me, 'Tis not fighing on the plain. Song nor fonnet can relieve ye ; Faint attempts in love are vain. Urge but home the fair occafion. And be mafter of the field ; To a powerful kind invafion 'Twere a madnefs not to yield. t Love gives out a large commifTion, Still indulgent to the brave ; But one fm of bafe omiffion Never woman yet forgave. Tho* fhe vows fhe'll ne'er permit ye. Cries you're rude and much to blame. And with tears implores your pity ; Be not merciful, for Ihame. When WITTY SONGS. 215 When the fierce aflault is over, Chloris time enough will find This her cruel furious lover Much more gentle, not fo kind. Sedley. WHAT ! put ofF with one denial. And not make a fecond trial ? You might fee my eyes confenting. All about me was relenting ; ^ Women oblig'd to dwell in forms Forgive the youth that boldly ftorms. Lovers when you figh and languifh. When you tell us of your anguifh. To the nymph you'll be more pleafing When thofe forrows you are eafing : We love to try how far men dare. And never wifli the foe fhould fpare. 04 2i6 INGENIOUS AND LET not love on me bellow Soft diftrefs and tender woe ; I know none but fubflantial blilTes, Eager glances, folid kiffes. I know not what the lovers feign Of finer pleafure mixM with pain ; Then pr'ythee give me, gentle boy. None of thy grief, but all thy joy. Steel, WHY we love, and why we hate. Is not granted us to know ; Random chance, or wilful fate Guides the fhaft from Cupid's bow. If J WITTY SONGS. If on me Zelinda frown, 'Tis madnefs all in me to grieve ; Since her will is not her own. Why fhould I uneafy live. If I for Zelinda die Deaf to poor Mizella's cries, Afk me not the reafon why ; Seek the riddle in the fkies. 217 DEAR Colin prevent my warm blufhes. Since how can I fpeak without pain ? My eyes have oft told you my wiihes, O ! can't you their meaning explain ? My paflion would lofe by eypreffion. And you too might cruelly blame; Then don't you expefl a confeffion. Of what is too tender to name. Since 2i8 INGENIOUS AND Since yours is the province of fpeaking. Why Ihould you expefl it from me ; Our wifhes fhould be in our keeping, Till you tell us what they fhould be. Then quickly why don't you difcover ? Did your heart feel fuch tortures as mine. Eyes not tell over and over What 1 in my bofom confine. L. M. W. Montague. *The Answer. ^X'^ OOD Madam when ladies are willing, V-T A man mull needs look like a fool ; For me I would not give a (hilling For one that can love without rule. At leaft you fliould wait for our offers. Nor fnatch like old maids in defpair ; If you've lived to thefe years without proffers Your fighs are now loft in the air. You I WITTY SONGS. 219 You Ihould leave us to guefs at your blufliing. And not fpeak the matter too plain ; 'Tis ours to be forward and pufhing ; 'Tis yours to afFed a difdain. That you're in a terrible taking From all your fond ojrlings I fee ; But the fruit that will fall without Ihaking Indeed is too mellow for me. Sir W. Yonge. WHEN firft I fought fair Cilia's love. And ev'ry charm was new, I fwore by all the Gods above To be forever true. But long in vain did I adore. Long wept and figh'd in vain ; She ftill protefted, vowM, and fwore She ne'er would eafe my pain. At S20 INGENIOUS AND At lafl: overcome flie made me bleft. And yielded all her charms; And I forfook her when pofleft. And fled to other's arms. But let not this, dear C-elia, now To rage thy breaft incline, For why, fmce you forget your vow. Should I remember mine ? SoAME Jenyns. CORINNA coft me many a prayer. E'er I her heart could gain. But fhe ten thoufand more Ihould hear To take that heart again. Defpair I thought the greatefl curfe, But to my coft I find Corinna's conftancy ftill worfe, Moft cruel when too kind. How WITTY SONGS. How blindly then does Cupid carve. How ill divide the joy. Who does at firft his lovers flarve, And then with plenty cloy. 221 ALL my paft life is mine no more. The flying hours are gone ; Like tranfitory dreams given o'er, Whofe images are kept in Hore By memory alone. The time that is to come, is not ; How then can it be mine ? The prcfent moment's all my lot. And that, as fafl as it is got, Phyllis, is only thine. Then talk not of inconflancy, Falfe hearts, and broken vows ; If 122 INGENIOUS AND If I, by miracle can be This live-long minute true to thee, 'Tis all that heaven allows. Rochester. YES, I'm in love, I feel it now, And Celia has undone me; But yet I fvvear I can't tell how The pleafing plague ftole on me. 'Tis not her face that Iqve creates. For there no graces revel ; 'Tis not her fhape, for there the fates Have rather been uncivil. 'Tis not her air, for fure in that There's nothing more than common. And all her fenfe is only chat Like any other woman. Her i WITTY SONGS. 223 Her voice, her touch might give th' alarm, 'Twas both perhaps, or neither ; In fliort, 'twas that provoking charm Of Celia altogether. Whitehead, YE little loves that round her wait To bring me tidings of my fate. As Celia on her pillow lies, Ah! gently whifper — Strephon dies. If this will not her pity move. And the proud fair difdains to love. Smile and fay 'tis all a lye. And haughty Strephon fcorns to die. 224 INGENIOUS AND LOVE and folly were at play. Both too wanton to be wife, They fell out, and in the fray Folly put out Cupid's eyes. Strait the criminal was try*d. And had this punifliment affign*d. Folly Ihould to love be ty'd, And condemned to lead the blind. AN amorous fwain to Juno pray*d. And thus his fuit did move ; Give me, oh ! give me the dear maid. Or take away my love. The WITTY SONGS. 225 The Goddefs thunder'd from the flcies. And granted his requefl ; To make him happy, made him wife. And drove her from his breaft. SWAIN, thy hopelefs paffion fmother, * Perjured Celia loves another; In his arms I faw her lying. Panting, kiffing, trembling, dying; There the fair deceiver fwore, All fhe did to you before. P Oh! *The turn In this fong Is Ingenloufly copied out of Ovid's fipiftle from Oenone to Paris. Cum Paris Oenone poterit fpirare relidla. Ad fontcm Xanthi verfa recurret aqua j Xanthe retio propera, verfaeque recurrite lymphae, Suftinet Oenone deferuiffe Paris. Oeaone left, when Paris can furvlve, The waves of Xanthus ftiall reverfe their co^rfej Turn waters, turn, flow upward to your fource. Oenone's left, yet Paris bears to live. 226 INGENIOUS AND Oh ! faid you, when Ihe deceives me. When that conftant creature leaves me, Ifis' waters back Ihall fly, And leave their oozy channels dry ; Turn, ye waters, leave your fnore. For perjur'd Celia loves no more. CUPID, Inftruft an amorous fwain Some way to tell the nymph his pain To common youths unknown ; To talk of fighs, and flames, and darts. Of bleeding wounds, and burning hearts. Are methods vulgar grown. What need'ft thou tell ? (the God reply'd) That love the fhepherd cannot hide. Thy nymph will quickly find ; When Phoebus does his beams difplay. To tell men gravely that 'tis day. Is to fuppofe them blind. WITTY SONGS. 227 LOVE's a dream of mighty treafure. Which in fancy we poffefs ; In the foUy lies the pleafure, Wifdom always makes it lefs. "When we think by paffioii heated We a Goddefs have in chace. Like IxiON we are cheated. And a gaudy cloud embrace. Happy only is the lover Whom his miftrefs well deceives j Seeking nothing to difcover. He contented lives at eafe. While the wretch who would be knowing What the fair one would difguife. Labours for his own undoing. Changing happy to be wife. ? 2 228 INGENIOUS AND TELL me no more I am deceived. That Chloe's falfe and common j I always knew (at leafl believ'd) She was a very woman : As fuch I lik'd, as fuch carefs'd. She ftill was conflant when poffefs'd. She could do more for no man. r But oh 1 her thoughts on others ran. And that you think a hard thing ; Perhaps Ihe fancied you the man ; And what care I one farthing ? You think fhe's falfe, I*m fure ihe's kind, I take her body, you her mind. Who has the better bargain ? HOADLEY. WITTY SONGS. 229 MISTAKEN fair, lay Sherlock by. His dodrine is deceiving. For while he teaches us to die. He cheats us of our living. To die's a lefTon we fhall know Too foon without a mafler; Then let us only ftudy now How we may live the fafter. To live's to love, to blefs, be bleft With mutual inclination ; Share then my ardour in your breaft, And kindly meet my paffion. But if thus blefl I may not live. And pity you deny. To me at leafl your Sherlock give, 'Tis I mufl learn to die. Chestsrfielp, 230 INGENIOUS AND CHLOE*s the wonder of her fex, 'Tis well her heart is tender ; How might fuch killing eyes perplex, With virtue to defend her ! But nature gracioufly inclin'd With liberal hand to pleafe us. Has to her boundlefs beauty join'd A boundlefs bent to eafe us. Landsdown. WHEN O R p H E u s wen t down to the regions below. Which men are forbidden to fee; He tun*d up his lyre, as old hiftories fhow. To fet his EuRY DICE free. All I WITTY SONGS. 231 All hell was aftonlfhM a perfon fo wife Should rafhiy endanger his life, And venture fo far ; but how vafl their furprife When they heard that he came for his wife I To find out a punifhment due for his fault Old Pluto long puzzled his brain. But hell had not torments fufficient he thought. So he gave him his wife back again. But pity fucceeding foon vanquifh'd his heart, And pleas'd with his playing fo well, He took her again in reward of his art. Such merit had mufic in hell. [SLE, VAIN are the charms of white and red. Which paint the blooming fair; Give me the nymph whofe fnow is fpread Not o'er her face, but hair. P4 Of i 232 INGENIOUS AND Of fmoother cheeks the winning grace. With open force defies ; But in the wrinkles of her face Cupid in ambufh lies. If naked eyes fet hearts on blaze. And amorous warmth infpire ; Thro' glafs, who darts her pointed rays. Lights up a fiercer fire. Nor rivals, nor the train of years. My peace or blifs deftroy ; Alive, Ihe gives no jealous fears. And dead, ihe crowns my joy. CHLOE brifk and gay appears. On purpofe to invite ; Yet, when I prefs her, ihe, in tears Denies her fole delight. Whim WITTY SONGS. 233 Whilft Celia, fccming fhy and coy. To all her favours grants ; And fecretly receives that joy. Which others think Ihe wants* I would, but fear I never (hall. With either fair agree ; For Celia will be kind to all. But Chloe won't to me. OH ! turn away thofe cruel eyes, The liars of my undoing ; Or death in fuch a bright difguife May tempt a fecond wooing. Punifh their blindly impious pride Who dare contemn thy glory ; It was my fall that deify *d Thy name, and feal'd thy ftory. Yet 234 INGENIOUS AND Yet no new fuff'rings can prepare A higher praifc to crown thee ; Tho' my firll death proclaim thee fair. My fecond will dethrone thee. Lovers will doubt thou canft entice No other for thy fuel ; And if thou burn one vi6lim twice. Think thee both poor and cruel. THE merchant to fecure his treafure Conveys it in a borrowed name ; EuPHELiA ferves to grace my meafure. But CiiLOE is my real flame. My foftell verfe, my darling lyre Upon Euphelia's toilet lay, When Chloe noted her defire That I ft^ould fing, that I fhould play. - My WITTY SONGS. 235 My lyre I tune, my voice I raife. But with my numbers mix my fighs ; And whilft I ling Euphelia's praife, I fix my foul on Chloe's eyes. Fair Chloe blufh'd ; Euphelia frovnM ; I fung and gaz'd, I play'd and trembled ; And Venus to the loves around Remarked how ill we all difTembled. Prior. CELIA hoard thy charms no more. Beauty's like the niifer's treafare ; Still the vain poflelTor's poor. What are riches without pleafure ? Endlefs pains the mifer takes To increafe his heaps of money, tiab'ring bees his pattern makes. Yet he fears to tafte his honey. Views 136 INGENIOUS AND Views with aching eyes his (lore. Trembling left he chance to lofe it. Pining ftill for want of more, Tho' the wretch wants power to ufe it. Celia thus with endlefs arts Spends her days, her chirms improving, Laboring ftill to conquer hearts. Yet ne'er taftes the fweets of loving. Views with pride her Ihape and face, Fancying ftill ftie's under twenty ; Age brings wrinkles on apace. While (he ftarves with all her plenty. Soon or late they both will find Time their idol from them fever. He muft leave his gold behind, Lock'd within his grave for ever. Celiacs fate will ftill be worfe, When her fading charms deceive her, Vain defire will be her curfe When no mortal will relieve her. Celia hoard thy charms no more. Beauty's like the mifer's treafure, Tafte a little of thy ftore ; What is beauty without pleafure ? WITTY SONGS. 237 AS the fnovv In vallies lying, Phoebus his warm beams applying. Soon diflblves and runs avvav ; So the beauties, fo the graces Of the mod bewitching faces At approaching age decay. As a tyrant when degraded Is defpis'd and is upbraided By the Haves he once controul'd ; So the nymph if none could move her Is contemn'd by every lover # When her charms are growing old. * Melancholic looks and whining. Grieving, quarreling and pining Are th' efFefts your rigours move; Soft careflcs, amorous glances. Melting fighs, tranfporting trances. Are the bleft eiFeds of lo?e. Fair 238 INGENIOUS AND Fair ones, while your beauty's blooming Ufe your time, left age refuming What your youth profufely lends. You are robb'd of all your glories. And condemned to tell old ftories To your unbelieving friends. CELIA, too late you would repent; The offering all your ftore Is now but like a pardon fent To one that's dead before. While at the firft you criael prov'd. And grant the blifs too late. You hinder'd me of one I lov'd To give me one I hate. I thought you innocent as fair When firft my court I made. But when your falfhoods plain appear My love no longer ftay'd. Your WITTY SONGS. Your bounty of thofe favours ftiowM Whofe worth you lirft deface. Is melting valued medals down. And giving us the brafs. Oh ! fmce the thing we beg's a toy. By lovers priz'd alone. Why cannot women grant the joy Before our love is gone ? 239 Walsh, LATE when love I feem'd to flight, Phyllis fmilM as well fhe might ; Now, faid life, our throne may tremble. Men our province now invade, Men take up our royal trade, Men, ev'n men ; do now diffemble. In the dull our empire's laid. Tutor'd 240 INGENIOUS AND Tutor'd by the wife and grave. Loath I was to be a flave ; Miftrefs founded arbitrary ; So I chofe to hide my flame Friend fhip, a difcreeter name ; But flie fcorns one jot to vary. She will love, or nothing, claim. Be a lover, or pretend, Rather than the warmeft friend ; Friendihip of another kind is, Swediih coin of grofs allay, A cart-load will fcarce defray ; Love, one grain is worth the Indies, Only love is current pay. Alll Chloris, could I now but fit As unconcern'd as when Your infant beauty could beget No happinefs nor pain ! When ■2 WITTY SONGS. 241 When I this dawning did admire, And prais'd the coming day, I little thought that rifing fire Would take my reft away. Your charms in harmlefs childhood lay As metals in a mine ; Age from no face takes more away Than it conceal'd in thine : But as your charms infenfibly To their perfedlion pieft. So love as unperceiv'd, did fly. And centered in my breaft. My paffion with your beauty grew. While Cupid, at my heart. Still as his mother favour'd you. Threw a new flaming dart : Each gloried in their wanton part ; To make a lover, he Epiploy'd the utmoft of his art; To make a beauty flie. 242 INGENIOUS AND SAY lovely dream, where could'fl thou find Shadows to counterfeit that face ? Colours of this glorious kind. Come not from any mortal place. In heaven it felf thou fure wert dreft With that angel-like difguile ; Thus deluded am I blell, And fee my joy with clofed eyes. But ah ! this image is too kind To be other than a dream ! Cruel Sacharissa's mind Never put on that fweet extreme. Fair dream, if thou intend'ft me grace. Change that heavenly face of thine ; Paint defpis'd love in thy face. And make it to appear like mine. Pale, WITTY SONGS. 243 Pale, wan, and meagre let it look, With a pity-moving fhape. Such as wander by the brook Of Lethe, or from graves efcape. Then to that matchlefs nymph appear, In whofe fhape thou fhineft fo. Softly in her lleeping ear, With humble words exprefs my woe. Perhaps from greatnefs, ftate, and pride, Thus furprifed Ihe may fall : Sleep does difproportion hide. And death refembling equals all. Waller. COME little infant love me now. While thine unfufpedcd years Clear thine aged father's brow From cold jealoufy and fears, 0^2 Pretty 844 INGENIOUS AND Pretty furely 'twere to fee By young love old time beguil*d. While our fportings are as free As the nurfes with the child. Common beauties ftay fifteen. Such as yours Ihould Avifter move, Whofe fair bloflbms are too green Yet for lull, but not for love. Love as much the fnowy Iamb, Or the wanton kid does prize. As the lufty bull or ram. For his morning facrifice. Now then love me, time may take Thee before thy time away ; Of this need we'll virtue make. And learn love before we may. So we win of doubtful fate ; And if good to us fhe meant. We that good fhould antedate. Or if ill, that ill prevent. Thas WITTY SONGS. 245 Thus as kingdoms fruftrating Other titles to their crown. In the cradle crown their king. So all foreign claims to drowH. So to make all rivals vain Now I crown thee with my love; Crown mc with thy love again, And we both Ihall monarchs prove. A Sigh. GENTLE air, thou breath of lovers, Vapour from a fecret fire. Which by thee itfelf difcovers, Ever daring to afpire. Softefl note of whifper*d anguifli. Harmony's refined part. Striking, while thou feem'il to languidly Full upon tlie lillners heart. Qj 5afeft 246 INGENIOUS AND Safeft meflenger of paffion, Stealing thro' a cloud of fpies. Which conftrain the outward fafhion, Clofe the lips, and guard the eyes. Shapelefs figh, we ne'er can Ihow thee, Form'd but to aflault the ear ; Yet, e'er to their coft they know thee. Every nymph may read thee here. SHE loves, and flie confelTes too ; Then there's at lafl: no more to do j The happy work's entirely done. Enter the town which thou haft won. The fruits of conqueft now begin, Jo triumphe, enter in. What's this, ye gods, what can it be ? Remains there ftill an enemy ? Bold honour Hands up in the gate And vvou'd yet capitulate. Have WITTY SONGS. 247 Have I o'ercome all real foes, And Ihall this phantom me oppofe? Noify nothing, flalking Ihade, By what witchcraft wert thou made ? Empty caufe of folid harms ! But I (hall find out counter charms, Thy airy devilfhip to remove From this circle here of love. Sure I fliall rid myfelf of thee By the night's obfcurity, And obfcurer fecrecy. Unlike to every other fpright, Thou attempt'il: not men t'affright. Nor appear'lt, but in the light. « Cowley, '^np^IS now fmce I fat down before X That foolifh fort, a heart, (Time ftrangely ff ent) a year and more, And ilill I did my part. CL4 Made 248 INGENIOUS AND Made my approaches, from her hand Unto her lip did rife. And did already underftand The language of her eyes. Proceeded on with no lefs art. My tongue was engineer ; I thought to undermine the heart By whifpering in the ear. When this did nothing, I brought down Great cannon oaths, and fhot A thoufand thoufand to the town. And ftill it yielded not. I then refolv'd to ftarve the place By cutting off all kiffes, Praifing and gazing on her face. And all fuch little bliffes. To draw her out and from her ftrength, I drew all batteries in ; And brought myfelf to lie at length As if no liege had been# When WITTY SONGS. 249 When I had done what man could do. And thought the place my own. The enemy lay quiet too. And fmird at all was done. I fent to know from whence, and where, Thefe hopes, and this relief ; A fpy informed, honour was there. And did command in chief. March, march, (quoth I) the word flraightgive. Let's lofe no time, but leave her ; That giant upon air will live. And hold it out forever. To fuch a place our camp remove As will no fiege abide : I hate a fool that Harves her love Only to feed her pride. Suckling. 250 INGENIOUS AND PURSUING beauty, men defcry The diftant fhore, and long to prove (Still richer in variety) The treafures of the land of love. We women like weak Indians Hand, Inviting from our golden coaft The wand'ring rovers to our land ; But fhe who trades with them is loft. With humble vows they firft begin, Stealing unfeen into the heart ; But by polTeflion fettled in, They quickly ad another part. For beads and baubles we refign In ignorance our ihlning ftore; Difcover nature's richeft mine, And yet the tyrants will have more. Be WITTY SONGS. 251 Be wife, be wife, and do not try How he can court, or you be won ; For love is but difcovery ; When that is made, the pleafure's done. * STELLA and Flavia every hour Do various hearts furprize ; In Stella's foul is all her power. And Flavia's in her eyes. More boundiefs Flavia's conquefts arc. And Stella's more confin'd ; All can difcern a face that's fair. But few a heavenly mind. Stella, like Brittain's monarch reigns O'er cultivated lands ; Like eaftern tyrants Flavia deigns To rule o'er barren fands. Then 252 INGENIOUS AND Then boaft, fairpLAViA, boafl: thy face Thy beauty's only flore. Each day that makes thy charms decreafe Will yield to Stella more. Eap-L. AS Ariana young and fair By night the Harry choir did tell. She found in Cassiopeia's chair One beauteous light the reft excel : This happy ftar uufeen before. Perhaps was kindled from her eyes. And made for mortals to adore A new-born glory in the ikies. Or if within the fphere it grew, 'Before flie gaz*d the lamp was dim ; But from her eyes the fparkles flew That gave new luftre to the gem : t Bright omen ! what doft thou portend. Thou threatening beauty of the fky ; What great, what happy monarch's end ? For fure by thee 'tis fweet to die. Whether WITTY SONGS. Whether to thy foreboding fire We owe the crefcent in decay ; Or muft the mighty Gaul expire, A vi6lim to thy fatal ray ? Such a prcfage will late be (hewn Before the world in alhes lies ; But if lefs ruin will attone. Let Strephon*s only fate fuffice. 253 WHEN firft I faw Lucinda's face. And view'd the dazzling glories there. She feem'd of a diviner race. Than that which nature planted here. With facred homage down I fell, Wond'ring whence fuch a form could fpring ; Tell me, I cry*d, fair vifion, tell The dread commands from heaven you bring. For 254 INGENIOUS AND For if paft fins may be forgiven. By this bright evidence I know The careful Gods have made a heaven. That made fuch angels for it too. CHLORIS, yourfelf you fo excel. When you vouchfafe to breathe my thought, That like a fpirit, with this fpell Of my own teaching, I am catight. The eagle*s fate and mine are one. Which on the fhaft that made him die Efpy'd a feather of his own. Wherewith he ufed to foar fo high. Had Echo with fo fweet a grace Narcissus' loud complaints return*d. Not for refleftion of his face, But of his voice, the boy had burn'd. Waller. WITTY SONGS. 255 STREPHON has fafliion, wit and youth. With all things elfe that pleafe ; He nothing wants but love and truth To ruin me with eafe : But he is flint, and bears the art To kindle llrong defire ; His pow'r inflames another's heart. Yet he ne'er feels the fire. O ! how it does my foul perplex. When I his charms recall, To think he ftiould defpife the fex. Or worfe, fliould love 'em all : My wearied heart, like Noah's dove. Thus feeks in vain for refl: ; Finding no hope to fix it's love. Returns into my bread. Mrs. Taylor, 256 INGENIOUS AND AT Cynthia's feet I figh*d, I prayM, And wept ; yet all the while The cruel unrelenting maid Scarce paid me with a fmile. Such foolilh timorous arts as thefe Wanted the power to charm ; They were too innocent to pleafe. They were too cold to warm. Refolv'd, I rofe, and foftly preft The lilies of her neck ; With longing eager lips I kift The rofes of her cheek. Charm'd with this boldnefs, fhe relents. And burns with equal fire ; To all my wiflies Ihe confents. And crowns my fierce defire. With WITTY SONGS. 257 With heat Kke this Pygmalion mov*d His flatue's icy charms ; Thus warmM the marble virgin lov*d. And melted in his arms. WINE, wine in the morning Makes us frolick and gay. That like eagles we foar In the pride of the day ; Gouty fots of the night Only find a decay. 'Tis the fun ripes the grape, And to drinking gives light; We imitate him When by noon we're at height ; They fleal wine who talse it When he's out of fight. Boy fill all the glafles. Fill them up now he fhines f The higher he rifes The more he refines, Fdr wine and wit fall As their maker declines. 258 INGENIOUS AND IN vain dear Chloe you fuggeft That I inconftant have pofTeft Or lov'd a fairer flie ; Would you with eafe at once be cur*d Of all the ills you've long endur'd, Confult your glafs and me» If then you think that I can find A nymph more fair or one more kind, YouVe reafon for your fears ; But if impartial you will prove To your own beauty or my love. How needlefs are your tears ! If in my way I fhould by chance Receive or give a wanton glance, I like but while I view ; How flight the glance, how faint the kifs. Compared to that fubllantial blil^ Which I receive from you ! With wanton flight the curious bee From flower to flower ftill wanders free ; A*', where each bloflbm blows, Extra^s WITTY SONGS. 259 Extrafts the juice from all he meets. But, for his quinteffence of fweets He ravifhes the rofe. So my fond fancy to employ On each variety of joy. From nymph to nymph I roam Perhaps fee fifty in a day, Thefe are but vifits that I pay. For Chloe is my home. SHOULD fome perverfc malignant liar (As envious ilars will fometimes Ihine) Throw me from my Fi.orella far. Let not my lovely fair repine If in her abfence I fhould gaze With pleafure on another's face. The wearied pilgrim, when the fun Has ended his diurnal race. With pleafure fees the friendly mooa By borrow'd light, fupply hi^ place : Not that he flights the God of day, But loves ev'n his refledled ray. R2 26o INGENIOUS SONGS, &c. WHY will Florella while I gaze^ My ravilh*d eyes reprove. And chide them from the only face They can behold with love ? To fliun your fcorn, and eafe my care, I feek a nymph more kind, And while I rove from fair to fair Still gentle ufage find. But oh ! how faint is every joy Where nature has no part ; New beauties may my eyes employ. But you engage my heart. So relllefs exiles doom'd to roam Meet pity every where ; Yet languiih for their native home, Tho* death attends them there. O R I G I N A 1. PIECES R3 Advertifement. ALTHOUGH the colleftion of fongs here ofFer- ed, contains fome pieces not to be found in any other, and affembles many which never before met in one collection ; yet in order to gratify that love of novelty which every one who hopes to en-* gage the public attention is expefted to addrefs, the Editor is induced to add a few original pieces, that without fuch a motive would only have been com- municated to a fmall circle of private acquaintance. With regard to fome of them, he thinks it neceflary to declare that they are admitted here folely upon the plea of novelty, and that he expedls no other attention to them than this circumllance may claim. There are others however, which he is not afraid of recommending on a much fuperiour ground of merit; and does not fcruple admitting them to an equal rank in genuine poetry with any that form the preceding colledion. For thcfe, which are marked with an aflerifk, he is indebted to a friend. ORIGINAL PIECES. 263 EDWIN AND ETHELINDE. (a) « y^NE parting kifs, my Ethel in de!" V^ Young Edwin faultring cried, " I hear thy father's hafty tread, Nor longer muft I bide. To-morrow's eve in yonder wood. Beneath the well-known tree, Say wilt thou meet thy own true love, Whofe only joy's in thee ?" She clafp'd the dear beloved youth. And figh'd and dropt a tear; " Whate'er betide, my only love I'll furely meet thee there." They kifs, they part ; a liftcning page To malice ever bent, O'erheard their talk, and to his lord Reveal'd their fond intent. R 4 The (a) This piece was printed a few years fmce in the Gentle- man's Magazine. 264 ORIGINAL PIECES, The baron's brow grew dark with frowns. And rage diftainM his cheek, " Heavens ! ihall a vaflal Hiepherd dare My daughter's love to fcek ! But know, ralh boy, thy bold attempt Full forely (halt thou rue ; Nor ne'er again, ignoble maid, Shalt thou thy lover view.'* The dews of evening faft did fall. And darknefs fpread apace. When Ethelinde with beating breaft Flew to th' appointed place. With eager eye fhe looks around. No Edwin there was feen ; " He was not wont to break his faith. What can his ab fence mean !" Her heart beat thick at every noife. Each ruftling thro' the wood ; And now fhe travers'd quick the ground. And now fhe lillening flood. Enlivening hope and chilling fear By turns her bofom fhare, And ORIGINAL PIECES. 265 And now fhe calls upon his name, Now weeps in fad defpair. Mean-time the day's laft glimmerings fled. And blackening all the fky A hideous tempeft dreadful rofe, And thunders roll'd on high. Poor Ethelinde aghaft, difmay'd. Beholds with wild affright The threatening fky, the lonely vvood. And horrors of the night. ** Where art thou now my Edwin dear! Thy friendly aid I want ; Ah me ! my boding heart foretels That aid thou canft not grant." Thus racked with pangs, and beat with florms, Confus'd and loft fhe roves ; Now looks to heaven with carnefl prayer. Now calls on him fhe loves. At length a diftant taper's ray Struck beaming on her fight ; Thro' brakes fhe guides her fainting fteps Towards the welcome light. An i66 ORIGINAL PIECES, An aged hermit peaceful dwelt In this fequeiler'd wild. Calm goodnefs fat upon his brow, His words were foft and mild. He opeM his hofpitable door. And much admiring view'd The tender virgin's graceful form, Dafh'd by the temped rude. <' Welcome, fair maid, whoever thou art. To this warm fhelter'd cell ; Here reft fecure thy wearied feet. Here peace and fafety dwell." He faw the heart-wrung flarting tear. And gently fought to know. With kindeft pity's foothing looks. The flory of her woe. Scarce had Ihe told her mournful tale. When ftruck with dread they hear Voices confus'd with dying groans. The cell approaching near. *' Help, father! help," they loudly cry, " A wretch here bleeds to death. Some ORIGINAL PIECES, 267 Some cordial balfam quickly give To ftay his parting breath." All deadly pale they lay him down. And galh*d with many a wound ; When, woful fight! 'twas Edwin's felf Lay bleeding on the ground. With frantic grief poor Ethelinde Befide his body falls ; *' Lift up thine eyes, my Edwin dear, 'Tis Ethelinde that calls." That much-lov'd found recalls his life. He lifts his clofing eyes. Then feebly murmuring out her name He gafps, he faints, he dies. Stupid a while, in dumb defpair She gaz'd on Edwin dead; Dim grew her eyes, her lips turnM pale, And life's warm fpirit fled. 468 ORIGINAL PIECES. A Dirge. BOW the head thou lilly fair. Bow the head in mournful guifc ; Sickly turn thy Ihining white. Bend thy flalk and never rife. Shed thy leaves thou lovely rofe, Shed thy leaves fo fweet and gay ;* ' Spread them wide on the cold earth. Quickly let them fade away. Fragrant woodbine all untwine, AH untwine from yonder bower ; Drao- thy bwinches on the ground. Stain with dull each tender flower. For, woe is me ! the gentle knot. That did in willing durance bind My Emma and her happy fvvain. By cruel death is now untwined. Her head with dim half-clofed eyes, Is bowed upon her breafl: of fnow ; And cold and faded are thofc cheeks. That wont with chearful red to glow. And ORIGINAL PIECES. 269 And mute is that harmonious voice. That wont to breathe the founds of love ; And lifelefs arc thofe beauteous limbs* That with fuch eafe and grace did move. And I of all my blifs bereft, Lonely and fad mud ever moan ; Dead to each joy the world cau give, Alive to memory alone. ^ ^^^OME here fond youth, whge'er thou bt V^ That boalls to love as well as me. And if thy breaft have felt fo wide a wound, Come hither and thy flame approve ; I'll teach thee what it is to love. And by what marks true pallion may be found. It is to be all bath'd in tears, To live upon a fmile for years. To lie whole ages at a beauty's fe^t > To kneel, to languifh and implore, And flill tho' ihe difdain, adore ; It is to do ail this and think thy fufferings Aveet. It 270 ORIGINAL PIECES. It is to gaze upon her eyes With eager joy and fond furprize. Yet tempef*d with fuch chafte and awful fear As wretches feel who wait their doom ; Nor iiiuH one ruder thought prefume Tho' but in whifpers breath'd, to meet her ear. It is to hope, tho' hope were loft, Tho' heaven and earth thy paflion croft ; Tho' fhe were bright as fainted queens above> And thou the leaft and meaneft fwain That folds his flock upon the plain. Yet if thou dar'ft not hope, thou doft not love. It is to quench thy joy in tears. To nurfe ftrange doubts and groundlefs fears ; If pangs of jealoufy thou haft not prov'd, Tho' ftie were fonder and more true Than any nymph old poets drew. Oh never dream again that thou haft lov'd. If when the darling maid is gone. Thou doft not feek to be alone, Wrapt in a pleaftng trance of tender woe 5 And mufe, and fold thy languid arms. Feeding thy fancy on her charms. Thou doft not love, for love is nourifli*d {o» If ORIGINAL PIECES. 271 If any hopes thy bofom fhare But thofe which love has planted there. Or any cares but his thy breaft enthrall. Thou never yet his power haft known ; Love fits on a defpotic throne, An.d reigns a tyrant, if he reigns at all. Now if thou art fo loft a thing. Here all thy tender foriows bring. And prove whofe patience longell can endure ; We'll ftrive whofe fancy (hall be loft In dreams of fondeft paflion moft. For if thou thus haft lov'd, oh ! never hope a cure. ^ TF ever thou didft joy to bind A Two hearts in equal paflion join 'd, O fon of Venus ! hear me now. And bid Florella blefs my vow. If any blifs refervM for me ^Thou in the leaves of fate lhould*ft fee, If any white propitious hour. Pregnant with hoarded joys in ftore ; Now, 272 ORIGINAL PIECES. Now, now the mighty treafure give. To her for whom alone I live ; In fterling love pay all the fum. And I'll abfolve the fates to come. In all the pride of full-blown charms Yield her, relenting, to my arms; Her bofom touch with foft defires. And let her feel what flie infpires. But, Cupid, if thine aid be vain The dear reludant maid to gain. If ftill with cold averted eyes She dafh my hopes, and fcorn my fighs O ! grant (*tis all I afk of thee) That I no more may change than ftie ; But ftill with duteous zeal love on, Whc n every gleam of hope is gone. Leave me then alone to languilh. Think not time can heal my anguifh, Pity the woes which I endure. But never, never grant a cure. ORIGINAL PIECES. 273 ^ Sylvia. T EAVE me, fimple fhepherd, leave me, J— ^ Drag no more a hopelefs chain ; I cannot like, nor would deceive thee. Love the maid that loves again. CoRiN. Tho' more gentle nymphs furround me, Kindly pitying what I feel, Only you have power to wound me, Sylvia, only you can heal. Sylvia. Cor in, ceafe this idle teazing, Love that's forced is harfh and four ; If the lover be difpleafing. To pcrfift difgufls the raore^ CoRiN. *Tis in vain, in vain to fly me, Sylvia, I will ftill purAie ; Twenty thoufand times deny me, I will kneel and weep anew. Sylvia. Cupid ne'er lliall make me languiih, I was born averfe to love ; Lover's fighs, and tears, and anguifh. Mirth and paftime to me prove. CoRiN. Still I vow with patient duty Thus to meet your proudeft icorn ; S You 274 ORIGINAL PIECES. You for unrelenting beauty, I for conftant love was born. But the fates had not confented. Since they both did fickle prove ; Of her fcorn the maid repented. And the fhepherd — of his love. To Sleep. COME gentle God of foft repofe. Come footh this torturM bread ; Shed kind oblivion o*er my woes. And lull my cares to reft. Come gentle God, without thy aid I fmk in dark defpair ; O wrap me in thy filent fliade. For peace is only there. Let hope in fome propitious dream Her bright illufions fpread ; Once more let rays of comfort beam Around my drooping head. O quick- ORIGINAL PIECES. 275 O quickly fend thy kind relief, Thefe heart- felt pangs remove ; Let me forget myfelf, my grief, And every care — but love. ^ TT 7HEN gentle Celia firft I knew, VV A breaft fo good, fo kind, fo true, Reafon and talle approved ; Pleas'd to indulge fo pure a flame, I call'd it by too foft a Rame, And fondly thought I lov*d. Till Chloris came, with fad furprife I felt the lightning of her eyes Thro' all my fenfes run ; All glowing with reiiftlefs charms. She fill*d my breaft with new alarms, I faw, and was undone. Celia ! dear unhappy maid. Forbear the weaknefs to upbraid Which ought your fcorn to move ; 1 know this beauty falfe and vain, I know fhe triumphs in my pain, Yet ftill I feel I love. ' S 2 Thy 276 ORIGINAL PIECES. Thy gentle fmiles no more can pleafe, Nor can thy fofteft friendfhip eafe The torments I endure ; Think what that wounded bread muft feel Which truth and kindnefs cannot heal. Nor even thy pity cure. Oft fliall I curfe my iron chain. And wifh again thy milder reign With long and vain regret ; All that I can, to thee I give. And could I flill to reafon live I were thy captive yet. But paflion's wild impetuous fea Hurries me far from peace and thee, 'Twere vain to ftruggle more : Thus the poor failor fl umbering lies, While fwelling tides around him rife. And pu{h his bark from fhore. In vain he fpreads his helplefs arms. His pitying friends with fond alarms In vaiH deplore his flate ; Still far and farther from the coaft. On the high furge his bark is toft. And foundering yields to fate. ORIGINAL PIECES. 277 ^ A S near a weeping Tprlng reclin'd JTjl The beauteous Ar a mint a pin*d. And mourn'd a falfe ungrateful youth ; While dying echoes caught the found. And fpread the foft complaints around Of broken vows and alter'd truth ; An aged fhepherd heard her moan. And thus in pity's kindefl tone Addrefs'd the loll defpairing maid ; Ccafe, ceafe unhappy fair to grieve, For founds, tho' fweet, can ne'er relieve A breaking heart by love betray'd. Why ihouldfl thou walle fuch precious Hiowers, That fall like dew on withered flowers, B.ut dying pafTion ne'er reftor'd; In beauty's empire is no mean. And woman, either flave or queen. Is quickly fcotn'd when not ador'd. Thofe liquid pearls from either eye, Which might an eaftern empire buy, Unvalued here and fruitlefs fall ; No 278 ORIGINAL PIECES. No art the feafon can renew When love was young, and Damon true, No tears a wandering heart recall. Ceafe, ceafe to grieve, thy tears are vain, Should thofe fair orbs in drops of rain Vie with a weeping fouthern Iky ; For hearts overcome with love and grief All nature yields but one relief; Die, haplefs Araminta, die. ASPASIA rolls her fparkling eyes. And every bofom feels her power ; The Indians thus view Phoebus rife. And gaze in rapture, and adore. Quick to the foul the piercing fplendors dart. Fire every vein, and melt the coldeft heart. As PA SI A fpeaks ; the liftening crowd Drink in the found with greedy cars ; Mute are the giddy and the loud. And felf-admiring folly hears. Her wit fecures the conquefts of her face ; Points every charm> and brightens every grace. AsPASIA ORIGINAL PIECES. 279 AsPASiA moves ; her well-turn'd limbs Glide (lately with harmonious eafe ; Now thro' the mazy dance Ihe fwims. Like a tall bark o'er fummer feas ; *Twas thus JE^EAs knew the queen of love, MajelHc moving thro* the golden grove. But ah ! how cruel is my lot To doat on one fo heavenly fair ; For in my humble (late forgot. Each charm but adds to my defpair. The tuneful fvvan thus faintly warbling lies, Looks on his mate, and while he fings, he die». * \X7H^N firft upon your tender cheek V V I faw the morn of beauty break With mild and chearing beam, I bow'd before your infant flirine, The earliell fighs you had were mine. And you my darling theme. I faw you in that opening morn For beauty's boundlefs empire born, And iirft confefs'd your fway ; And. 28o ORIGINAL PIECES. And e'er your thoughts, devoid of art. Could learn the value of a heart, I gave my heart away. Iwatch'd the dawn of every grace, Aud gaz'd upon that angel face, While yet 'twas fafe to gaze ; And fondly bleft each rifing charm. Nor thought fuch innocence could harm The peace of future days. But now defpotic o'er the plains The awful noon of beauty reigns, And kneeling crowds adore ; Thefe charms arife too fiercely bright. Danger and death attend the fight> And 1 muft hope no more. Thus to the rifing God of day Their early vows the Perfians pay. And blefs the fpreading fire ; Whofe glowing chariot mounting foon Pours on their heads the burning noon. They ficken, and expire. THE END. W^-^W- '>^- >'-^ :; At'- ^