The tedious importunity of friends,
When as himfelf might his quietus make-
With a bare inkhorn? Who would fardles bear?
Το groan and fweat under a load of wit? -
But that the tread of fleep Parnaffus' hill,
That undifcover'd country, with whofe bays
Few travellers return, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear to live unknown,
Than run the hazard to be known, and damn'd.
Thus critics do make cowards of us all.
And thus the healthful face of many a poem
Is fickly'd o'er with a pale manufcript;
And enterprizers of great fire and fpirit
With this regard from DoDSLEY turn away,
And lofe the name of Authors.

TRANSCRIE'D FROM THE REV. MR. PIXEL's a PARSONAGE GARDEN NEAR BIRMINGHAM,

1757

S

Ꮪ

EEK not in thefe paths to view

Dryads green, or Naids blue;

Such as haunt, at eve or dawn,

c

Enville's lake, or Hagley's lawn:

a See Shenstone's Letters, p. 181. 8vo edition.

b Seat of the Earl of Stamford.

* Seat of Lord Lyttelton.

Such

d

Such as fport on Worfield's meads;
Such as Shenfione's Genius leads

O'er vale and hill, and to their care
Configns his waves and woodlands fair;
While the Mufes vacant stray,

And Echo wants her sweetest lay.

Long, long may thofe unrival'd shine,'
Nor fhall my temp'rate breaft repine,
So Mufic lend her willing aid
To gladden this ignoble fhade;
So Peace endear this humble plain-
And haply Elegance will deign
To wander here, and fmiling fee
Her fifter nymph Simplicity.

MALVERN

SPAa, 1757.

W

INSCRIBED TO DR. WALL.

BY THE REV. MR. PERRY.

ITH bounteous hand the gracious King of heaven

His choiceft bleffings to mankind hath given;

Whilft thoughtless they ungratefully defpife

The rich profufion that falutes their eyes.

Seat of Sherrington Davenport, Efq;

In the County of Worcester.

3

But

But wife was he who ftudy'd every use

Of common weeds which common fields produce.
The dock, the nettle, in each fwelling vein,
A healing balm for many an ill contain:

» Ev'n deadly nightshade, though with poison fraught,
At length is found a falutary draught.

The fame creative power that first display'd
His wond'rous works for our delight and aid;
His love to mortal man still gracious fhows,
In every stream that glides, and herb that grows.
At his command, Malvern, thy mountains rife,
And catch their dewy nectar from the skies:
At his command gush out thy crystal rills,
To cure the direful train of human ills;
On all alike their influence freely fhed,

As the bright orb that gilds thy mountain's head.
The wealthy fquire, whofe gouty limbs are laid
On beds of down, almost of down afraid,

At this balfamic fpring may foon regain

His lavish'd health, and o'er the fpacious plain
Pursue the hare, or chace the miscreant fox
With winged speed o'er hills or craggy rocks.
Here to his comfort the poor helpless swain,
Rack'd with the torture of rheumatic pain,
Obtains relief without the naufeous pill,

Or that more shocking fight the doctor's bill.

b See a pamphlet lately published by Mr. Gataker, where its virtues

are with great candour and judgement displayed.

416

When

When cloudy mifts obfcure the visual ray,
And turn to difmal night the glad fome day;
The mournful wretch with pleasure here may find
A stream that heals the lame, and cures the blind.
The pamper'd cit, whofe high luxurious food
With acrimonious poifon loads his blood,
Here polishes once more his fcaly fkin,
And purifies the vital stream within.
Amazing truth! his wretched leprous heir,
Who undeferv'd his father's fpots must wear,
Emerges clean if in this fount he lave,
As the white Syrian rose from Jordan's wave.
The latent ulcer, and the cancer dire,

That waste our flesh with flow-confuming fire,
Whose fubtle flames ftill fpread from part to part,
And still elude the skilful furgeon's art;
Here check'd fubmit, their raging fury laid,
By streams from Nature's myftic engine play'd.
The ftubborn evil, for whofe flux impure
Blind bigotry at first devis'd a cure,

Heal'd by thefe waters needs no more demand
The foolish witchcraft of a Stuart's hand;
And Brunswick's line may trust their royal cause
To reafon, justice, liberty, and laws.
Should all the virtues of this spa be told,
Its praises might be wrote in lines of gold:
No more would poets their Pierian fpring,
But Malvern fpa in loftier numbers fing;

No

No more Parnaffus, but the Malvern climb,
To make their diction pure, their thoughts fublime.
Ev'n I at thefe fair fountains eas'd of pain,

To you, my friend, addrefs one votive strain:
To you the Naiad of this balmy well

Reveals the wonders of her fecret cell:

To yoù transfers the lay, whofe active mind,

Like her own ftream from earthly dregs refin'd,
Explores a panacea for mankind.

}

SOME REFLECTIONS UPON HEARING THE BELL

TOLL FOR THE DEATH OF A FRIEND.

BY MR. J. GILES'.

ARK! what a mournful folemn found

H Rolls

Rolls murm'ring through the cloudy air!

It strikes the foul with awe profound,

Affects the gay-alarms the fair.

See a treatife published by Doctor Wall, concerning the extreme purity of the water, and its great efficacy in feveral obftinate chronical diforders.

a Mr. Jofeph Giles refided fome time at Birmingham, and lived in terms of intimacy with Mr. Shenftope. To this gentleman he was indebted for correcting his poems, of which a volume in Svo was printed in the year 1771.