With jufter claim the builds at length

Her empire on the sea,

And well may boaft the waves her strength
Which strength reftored to Thee.

ADDRESSED TO MISS MACARTNEY,*
On Reading the Prayer for Indifference.

ND dwells there in a female heart,
By bounteous heaven defign'd,
The choiceft raptures to impart,

To feel the most refined—

Dwells there a wish in such a breast
Its nature to forego,

To finother in ignoble rest

At once both blifs and woe!

Far be the thought, and far the strain,
Which breathes the low defire,
How sweet foe'er the verfe complain,
Though Phoebus ftring the lyre.

Come, then, fair maid, (in nature wife)
Who, knowing them, can tell
From generous fympathy what joys

The glowing bofom fwell:

* Afterwards Mrs. Greville: for the Ode fee Annual Register, vol. v. p. 202.

In justice to the various powers

you share,

Of pleafing, which
Join me, amid your filent hours,

To form the better prayer.

With lenient balm may Oberon hence

To fairy land be driven,

With every herb that blunts the sense Mankind received from heaven.

"Oh! if my Sovereign Author please,
Far be it from my fate
To live, unbleff'd, in torpid ease,
And flumber on in state.

Each tender tie of life defied
Whence focial pleasures spring,
Unmoved with all the world befide,
A folitary thing."

Some Alpine mountain, wrapt in snow,
Thus braves the whirling blast,
Eternal winter doom'd to know,
No genial spring to taste.

In vain warm funs their influence shed,
The zephyrs sport in vain,
He rears unchanged his barren head,
Whilst beauty decks the plain.

What though in fcaly armour dreff'd,
Indifference may repel

The fhafts of woe--in fuch a breast
No joy can ever dwell.

'Tis woven in the world's great plan,
And fix'd by Heaven's decree,
That all the true delights of man
Should fpring from Sympathy.

'Tis nature bids, and whilft the laws
Of nature we retain,
Our felf-approving bofom draws
A pleasure from its pain.

Thus grief itself has comforts dear
The fordid never know;
And ecstasy attends the tear
When virtue bids it flow.

pure

fource

For when it ftreams from that
No bribes the heart can win,
To check, or alter from its course,
The luxury within.

Peace to the phlegm of fullen elves,
Who, if from labour eased,
Extend no care beyond themselves,
Unpleafing and unpleased.

Let no low thought fuggeft the prayer,
Oh! grant, kind Heaven, to me,
Long as I draw ethereal air,

Sweet Senfibility.

Where'er the heavenly nymph is seen,
With luftre-beaming eye,

A train, attendant on their queen,
(Her rofy chorus) fly.

The jocund Loves in Hymen's band,
With torches ever bright,

And generous Friendship hand in hand,
With Pity's watery fight.

The gentler Virtues too are join'd
In youth immortal warm;
The foft relations, which, combined,
Give life her every charm.

The Arts come fmiling in the close,

And lend celestial fire;

The marble breathes, the canvass glows,
The Muses sweep the lyre.

"Still may my melting bofom cleave
To fufferings not my own,
And still the figh refponfive heave
Where'er is heard a groan.

So Pity shall take Virtue's part,
Her natural ally,

And fashioning my soften'd heart,

Prepare it for the sky."

This artless vow may Heaven receive,

And fond maid, approve :

you,

So may your guiding angel give

So

Whate'er you wish or love.

may the rofy-finger'd hours Lead on the various year, And every joy, which now is Extend a larger sphere.

yours,

And funs to come, as round they wheel,

Your golden moments blefs With all a tender heart can feel, Or lively fancy guefs.

1762.

That

TO THE REV. MR. NEWTON,

Rector of St. Mary Woolnoth.

May 28, 1782.

AYS the Pipe to the Snuffbox, I can't understand

What the ladies and gentlemen fee in your face,

you are in fashion all over the land,

And I am so much fallen into disgrace.

Do but fee what a pretty contemplative air

I give to the company-pray do but note ’em— You would think that the wife men of Greece were all there,

Or, at least, would suppose them the wise men of Gotham.

My breath is as sweet as the breath of blown roses, While you are a nuisance where'er you appear; There is nothing but fnivelling and blowing of nofes,

Such a noife as turns any man's ftomach to hear.