II.

The vig'rous monarch of the day,
Now mounting half his morning way,
Shone with a fainter bright;

Still fick'ning and decaying fill
Dimly he wander'd up the hill
With his expiring light.

III.

In dark eclipfe his chariot roll'd,

The queen of Night obfcur'd his gold
Behind her fable wheels;

Nature grew fad to lose the day,

The flow'ry vales in mourning lay,

In mourning flood the hills.

IV.

"Such are our forrows, Clarke," I cry'd,

"Clouds of the brain grow black and hide

"Our darken'd fouls behind;

"In the young morning of our years

"Diftemp'ring føgs have climb’d the spheres

"And choke the lab'ring mind.

V.

"Lo, the gay planet rears his head "And overlooks the lofty shade, New-bright'ning all the fkies:

"But Lay, dear partner of my moan, "When will our long eclipfe be gone,

*Or when our funs arife?

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VI.

"In vain are potent herbs apply'd,
"Harmonious sounds in vain have try'd
"To make the darkness fly;

"But drugs would raise the dead as foon,
"Or clatc'ring brass relieve the moon,
"When fainting in the sky.

VII.

"Some friendly spirit from above,
"Born of the light and nurs'd with love,
"Affift our feeble fires,

“Force these invading glooms away;

Souls fhould be feen quite thro' their clay
Bright as your heav'nly choirs.

VIII.

"But if the fogs muft damp the flame,

Gently kind Death diffolve our frame, "Release the pris'ner mind:

"Our fouls fhall mount at thy difcharge
"To their bright fource, and shine at large
"Nor clouded nor confin'd."

The afflictions of a friend, 1702.

Now let my cares all bury'd lie,

My griefs for ever dumb,

Your forrows fwell my heart fo high
They leave my own no room.

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2. Sickness and pains are quite forgot, The spleen itself is gone;

Plung'd in your woes I feel them not,
Or feel them all in one.

3. Infinite grief puts fense to flight. And all the foul invades;

So the broad gloom of fpreading night
Devours the ev'ning fhades.

4. Thus am I born to be unbleft;

This fympathy of wo

Drives my own tyrants from my breast
T' admit a foreign foe.

5. Sorrows in long fucceffion reign, Their iron rod I feel;

Friendship has only chang'd the chain,
But I'm the pris'ner fill.

6. Why was this life for mis'ry made, Or why drawn out fo long?

Is there no room amongst the dead,

Or is a wretch too young?

7. Move fafter on great Nature's wheel,

Be kind ye rolling pow'rs,

Hurl my days headlong down the hill

With undiftinguith'd hours.

8. Be dufky all my rifing fuas,

Nor finile upon a flave;

Darkness and death make hafte at once

To hide me in the grave.

Volume VI,

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The reverfe, or, The comforts of a friend.

THUS Nature tun'd her mournful tongue
Till Grace lift up her head,

Revers'd the forrow and the fong,
And fmiling thus fhe faid:

2. "Were kindred spirits born for cares? "Muft ev'ry grief be mine?

"Is there a fympathy in tears

"Yet joys refufe to join?”

3. Forbid it Heav'n, and raise my love And make our joys the fame;

So blifs and friendship join'd above
Mix an immortal flame.

4. Sorrows are loft in vaft delight That brightens all the foul,

As deluges of dawning light
O'erwhelm the dufky pole.

5. Pleafures in long fucceffion reign
And all my pow'rs employ;
Friendship but fhifts the pleafing scene
And freth repeats the joy.

6. Life has a.foft and filver thread, Nor is it drawn too long,

Yet when my vafter hopes perfuade
I'm willing to be gone.

7. Faft as you please roll down the hill

And hafte away my years,

Or I can wait my Father's will

To the Right Honourable John Lord Cuts †,

At the fiege of Namur.

The hardy foldier.

O Why is man fo thoughtless grown,
Why guilty fouls in hafte to die?

"Vent'ring the leap to worlds unknown
"Heedlefs to arms and blood they fly.
2. "Are lives but worth a soldier's pay?
"Why will you join fuch wide extremes,
"And ftake immortal fouls in play
"At defp'rate chance and bloody games?
3. "Valour's a nobler turn of thought
"Whofe pardon'd guilt forbids her fears;
Calmly fhe meets the deadly shot,

"Secure of life above the stars.

At the fiege of Namur.

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