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Each chief his sevenfold shield display'd,
But when through all the infernal bounds,
By the streams that ever flow,
Restore, restore Eurydice to life;
But soon, too soon, the lover turns his eyes ; Again she falls, again she dies, she dies ! How wilt thou now the fatal sisters move? No crime was thine, if 'tis no crime to love. Now under hanging mountains, Beside the falls of fountains, Or where Hebrus wanders, Rolling in meanders, All alone, Unheard, unknown, He makes his moan; And calls her ghost, For ever, ever, ever lost ! Now with furies surrounded, Despairing, confounded, He trembles, he glows, Amidst Rhodope's snows: See, wild as the winds o'er the desert he flies; Hark! Hæmus resounds with the Bacchanals' cries Ah see, he dies! Yet ev'n in death Eurydice he sung, Eurydice still trembled on his tongue; Eurydice the woods, Eurydice the floods, Eurydice the rocks and hollow mountains rung.
Music the fiercest grief can charm,
ODE ON SOLITUDE.
A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground.
Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Bless'd, who can unconcern'dly find
Sound sleep by night; study and ease
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,
THE DYING CHRISTIAN TO HIS SOUL.
VITAL spark of heavenly flame!
Quit, О quit this mortal frame! Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying ; Oh the pain, the bliss of dying! Cease, fond nature! cease thy strife, And let me languish into life.
Hark! they whisper ; angels say,
The world recedes ; it disappears!
grave! where is thy victory? O death! where is thy sting?
To Sir William Trumbal.
Nor blush to sport on Windsor's blissful plains :
You, that too wise for pride, too good for pow'r, Enjoy the glory to be great no more, And, carrying with you all the world can boast, To all the world illustriously are lost! O let my muse her slender reed inspire, Till in your native shades you tune the lyre : So when the nightingale to rest removes, The thrush may chant to the forsaken groves; But charm'd to silence, listens while she sings, And all the aërial audience clap their wings.
Soon as the focks shook off the nightly dews, Two swains, whom love kept wakeful, and the muse, Pour'd o'er the whitening vale their fleecy care, Fresh as the morn, and as the season fair ; The dawn now blushing on the mountain's side, Thus Daphnis spoke, and Strephon thus replied :
Daph. Hear how the birds on every blooming spray With joyous music wake the dawning day! Why sit we mute, when early linnets sing, When warbling Philomel salutes the spring ? Why sit we sad, when Phosphor shines so clear, And lavish Nature paints the purple year?
Streph.Siug then,and Damon shall attend the straip, While yon slow oxen turn the furrow'd plain : Here the bright crocus and blue violet glow; Here western winds on breathing roses blow. l'il stake yon lamb, that near the fountain plays, And from the brink his dancing shade surveys.
Daph. And I this bowl, where wanton ivy twines, And swelling clusters bend the curling vines :