The nameless charms of high poetic thought, All, all adieu! From Autumn's sober power Fly the dear dreams of Spring's delightful reign; Gay summer strips her rosy-mantled bower, And rude winds waste the glories of her train. Yet Autumn yields her joys of humbler kind; All-bounteous power, whom happy worlds adore! With every scene some grateful change she brings; In Winter's wild snows, Autumn's golden store, In glowing Summers and in blooming Springs! O most belov'd! the fairest and the best Of all her works! may still thy lover find Fair Nature's frankness in thy gentle breast; Like her be various, but like her be kind. Then when the Spring f smiling youth is o'er; In thy lov'd arms my fainting age shall close, TO MISS CRACROFT. 1763. WHEN pale beneath the frowning shades of death, No soothing voice of love, or friendship nigh, While strong convulsion seiz'd the labouring breath, And life suspended left each vacant eye; Where, in that moment, fled the' immortal mind? Some breast that took the wanderer in its way? To thee, my Nancy, in that deathful hour, But, didst thou, kind and gentle as thou art, O'er thy pale lover shed the generous tear? From those sweet eyes did Pity's softness start, When Fancy laid him on the lowly bier? Didst thou to Heaven address the forceful prayer, Fold thy fair hands, and raise the mournful eye, Implore each power benevolent to spare, And call down pity from the golden sky! O born at once to bless me and to save, Exalt my life, and dignify my lay! Thou too shalt triumph o'er the mouldering grave, And on thy brow shall bloom the deathless bay. Dear shades of genius! heirs of endless fame! That in your laureate crowns the myrtle wove, Snatch'd from oblivion Beauty's sacred name, And grew immortal in the arms of Love! O may we meet you in some happier clime, Some safer vale beneath a genial sky; Whence all the woes that load the wing of time, Disease and death, and fear and frailty fly! SONNET, IN THE MANNER OF PETRARCH. TO MISS CRACROFT. 1765. On thy fair morn, O hope-inspiring May! wore, Young Love and Fancy met the genial day : A nymph of gentlest mien their train before, more To pensive sorrow tune thy hopeless lay: Friends of thy heart, see Love and Fancy bring Each joy that youth's enchanted bosom warms! Delight that rifles all the fragrant Spring! Fair-handed Hope, that paints unfading charms! And dove-like Faith, that waves her silver wing.These, Swain, are thine; for Nancy meets thy arms.' VERSES IN MEMORY OF HIS LADY. WRITTEN AT SANDGATE CASTLE, 1768. Nec tantum ingenio, quantum servire dolori. PROPERT. LET others boast the false and faithless pride, Dear, silent partner of those happy hours, If yet that pity, which, of life possest, Fill'd thy fair eye, and lighten'd through thy breast; Hence, ye vain painters of ingenious woe, Oh! had ye known, what I have known, to prove Round these dim towers, and smites the beating waves This soothes my soul-'tis Nature's mournful breath, 'Tis Nature struggling in the arms of Death! See, the last aid of her expiring state, See Love, e'en Love, has lent his darts to Fate!* *The lady died in child-bed, |