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Thy pictures shall thy conduct frame,
EVENING: AN ODE.
TO STELLA. EVENING now from purple wings. Sheds the grateful gifts she brings; Brilliant drops bedeck the mead, Cooling breezes shake the reed; Shake the reed, and curl the stream Silver'd o'er with Cynthia's beam ; Near the chequer'd, lonely grove, Hears, and keeps thy secrets, Love. Stella, thither let us stray, Lightly o’er the dewy way. Phæbus drives his burning car, Hence, my lovely Stella, far; . In his stead, the Queen of Night Round us pours a lambent light; Light that seems but just to shew Breasts that beat, and cheeks that glow. Let us now, in whisper'd joy, Evening's silent hours employ, Silence best, and conscious shades, Please the heart that love invades, Other pleasures give them pain, Lovers all but love disdain..
TO THE SAME.
eyes, and air, and face,
If on her we see display'd
Vain the casual transient glance,
TO A FRIEND.
No more this brooding o'er yon heap,
No—all that's worth a wish-a thought, Fair virtue gives unbrib’d, unbought. Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind, Let nobler views engage thy mind.
With science tread the wond'rous way, Or learn the Muses' moral lay; In social hours indulge thy soul, Where mirth and temperance mix the bowl ; To virtuous love resign thy breast, And be, by blessing beauty—blest.
Thus taste the feast by nature spread, Ere youth and all its joys are fled ; Come taste with me the balm of life, Secure from pomp, and wealth, and strife. , I boast whate'er for man was meant, In health, and Stella, and content ; And scorn! oh! let that scorn be thine ! Mere things of clay that dig the mine.
STELLA IN MOURNING.
When lately Stella's form display'd
Th’adoring Youth and envious Fair,
Not the soft sighs of vernal gales,
WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF'A GENTLEMAN
SPRIG OF MYRTLE.
What hopes, what terrors, does thy gift create ? Ambiguous emblem of uncertain fate! The myrtle (ensign of supreme command, Consign'd by Venus to Melissa's hand) Not less capricious than a reigning fair, Oft favours, oft rejects, a lover's pray’r. • These verses were first printed in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1768, p. 439, but were written many years earlier. Elegant as they are, Dr. Johnson assured me, they were composed in the short space of five minutes.-N.
In myrtle shades oft sings the happy swain,
TO LADY FIREBRACE.*
AT BURY ASSIZES.
Ar length must Suffolk beauties shine in vain,
TO LYCE, AN ELDERLY LADY.
YE nymphs whom starry rays invest,
By flatt’ring poets given,
In all the pomp of Heaven;
Which gild a lover's lays,
Let Lyce share the praise.
* This lady was Bridget, third daughter of Philip Bacon, Esq. of Ipswich, and relict of Philip Evers, Esq. of that town. She became the second wife of Sir Cordell Firebrace, the last Baronet of that name (to whom she brought a fortune of 25,0001.), July 26, 1737. Being again left a widow, in 1759, she was a third time married, April 7, 1762, to William Campbell, Esq. uncle to the late duke of Argyle, and died July 3, 1782.