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In joys unknown to Courts, or Kings,
With her I fate the live-long day,
And faid and look'd fuch tender things,
As none befide could look, or fay!
How foon can Fortune fhift the fcene,
And all our earthly blifs deftroy?-
Care hovers round, and Grief's fell train
Still treads upon the heels of Joy.
My age's hope, my youth's best boast,
My foul's chief bleffing, and my pride,
In one fad moment all were loft;

And Daphne chang'd, and Thyrfis died.
Oh, who, that heard her vows ere-while,

Could dream thofe vows were infincere?
Or, who could think, that faw her smile,

That Fraud could find admittance there?
Yet, fhe was falfe !-my heart will break!
Her frauds her perjuries were fuch-
Some other tongue than mine must speak-
I have not power to fay how much!
Ye fwains, hence warn'd, the bait avoid;
Oh fhun her paths, the trait'ress shun!
Her voice is death, her fmile is fate,
Who hears, or fees her, is undone.

And, when Death's hand fhall close my eye,
(For foon, I know, the day will come)

Oh chear my spirit with a figh;
And 'grave the fe lines upon my tomb.

THE

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CONSIGN'D to duft, beneath this stone,
In manhood's pride is Damon laid;
Joylefs he liv'd, and died unknown,

In bleak Misfortune's barren fhade. Lov'd by the Mufe, but lov'd in vain— 'Twas Beauty drew his ruin on;

He faw young Daphne on the plain ;

He lov'd, believ'd, and was undone :
His heart then funk beneath the storm,
(Sad meed of unexampled truth)
And Sorrow, like an envious worm,
Devour'd the bloffum of his youth.
Beneath this stone the youth is laid—
Oh greet his afhes with a tear!
May Heaven with bleffings crown his fhade,
And grant that peace he wanted here!

STANZAS TO

WITH THE FOREGOING

ELEGIES.

SINCE you permit the lowly Muse
This offering at your feet to lay,
Her flight with ardour fhe renews;

Nor heeds the perils of the way:

In joys unknown to Courts, or Kings,
With her I fate the live-long day,
And faid and look'd fuch tender things,
As none befide could look, or fay!
How foon can Fortune shift the scene,
And all our earthly bliss destroy ?—
Care hovers round, and Grief's fell train
Still treads upon the heels of Joy.
My age's hope, my youth's best boast,
My foul's chief bleffing, and my pride,
In one fad moment all were loft;

And Daphne chang'd, and Thyrfis died.
Oh, who, that heard her vows ere-while,

Could dream thofe vows were infincere?
Or, who could think, that faw her fmile,

That Fraud could find admittance there?
Yet, fhe was falfe !-my heart will break!
Her frauds her perjuries were fuch-
Some other tongue than mine muft fpeak-
I have not power to fay how much!
Ye fwains, hence warn'd, the bait avoid;
Oh fhun her paths, the trait'ress shun !
Her voice is death, her fmile is fate,
Who hears, or fees her, is undone.

And, when Death's hand fhall close my eye,
(For foon, I know, the day will come)

Oh chear my spirit with a figh;

And 'grave the fe lines upon my tomb.

THE

ТНЕ EPITA PH.

CONSIGN'D to duft, beneath this stone,
In manhood's pride is Damon laid;
Joylefs he liv'd, and died unknown,

In bleak Misfortune's barren fhade. Lov'd by the Mufe, but lov'd in vain'Twas Beauty drew his ruin on;

He faw young Daphne on the plain ;

He lov'd, believ'd, and was undone :
His heart then funk beneath the storm,
(Sad meed of unexampled truth)
And Sorrow, like an envious worm,
Devour'd the bloffum of his youth.
Beneath this stone the youth is laid-
Oh greet his ashes with a tear !
May Heaven with bleffings crown his fhade,

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SINCE you permit the lowly Muse
This offering at your feet to lay,
Her flight with ardour fhe renews;

Nor heeds the perils of the way:

If, in the Poet's artless lays,

Late warbled in his native grove,

You find, perchance, one line to praise,
Or fhould one fentiment approve ;
Let critics babble o'er and o'er,

Of figures falfe, and accent wrong,
Bleft in thy fmile he asks no more—
There must be merit in the fong.
But, when of Epitaph and Worm,

Of Death and Tombs the bard doth rave, You'll afk, how 'scap'd he from the storm ?

What power hath snatch'd him from the grave? The Muse the fecret will impart ; (For what avails it to difguife ?) A fpeck he faw in Daphne's heart, That dimm'd the luftre of her eyes. But, had the maid thy power poffefs'd, To bind and ftrengthen Beauty's charm;

The virtues glowing in thy breast:

.

The graces breathing in thy form : Of manners gentle, and fincere,

Had Daphne been what

And had Misfortune's ftroke fevere

is,

Then robb'd him of his promis'd blifs,
Too big for words, the deep distress
Had quickly ftopp'd the Poet's tongue :
O'er borne by Paffion's wild excefs,

His heart had funk, unwept, unfung.

The

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