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ENCOMIUMS ON GRAY.

TO

MR. GRAY, UPON HIS ODES.

DY DAVID GARRICK, ESQ.*

REPine not, Gray, that our weak dazzled eyes

Thy daring heights and brightness shun; How few can trace the eagle to the skies,

Or like him, gaze upon the sun!

Each gentle reader loves the gentle Muse,

That little dares, and little means;
Who humbly sips her learning from Reviews,

Or Autters in the Magazines.

No longer now from Learning's sacred store

Our minds their health and vigour draw ; Homer and Pindar are rever'd no more,

No more the Stagyrite is law.

Though nurs’d by these, in vain thy Muse appears

To breathe her ardours in our souls ;
In vain to sightless eyes and deadend ears,

The lightning gleams, the thunder rolls:
* From an original MS, in the possession of Isanc Reed, Esq.

Yet droop not Guay, nor quit thy heav'n-born art,

Again thy wondrous powers eveal ;
Wake slumbering Virtue in the Briton's heart,

And rouse us to reflect and feel !

With ancient deeds our long-chillid bosoms fire,

Those deeds that mark Eliza's reign ! Make Britons Greeks again-then strike the lyre,

And Pindar shall not sing in vain.

ODE TO MR. GRAY,

ON THE BACKWARDNESS OF SPRING, IN THE YEAR 1742.

BY RICHARD WEST, ESQ.

Dear Guar, that always in my heart
Possessest far the better part,
What mean these sudden blasts that rise
And drive the Zephyrs from the skies?
O join with mine thy tuneful lay,
And invocate the tardy May !

Come, fairest Nymph, resume thy reign !
Bring all the Graces in thy train !
With balmy breath and flowery tread,
Rise from thy soft ambrosial bed ;
Where, in elysian slumber bound,
Embow'ring myrtles veil thee round.

Awake, in all thy glories dress’d,
Recal the Zephyrs from the west ;
Restore the sun, revive the skies,
At mine and Nature's call, arise !
Great Nature's self upbraids thy stay,
And misses her accustom'd May.

See! all her works demand thy aid ;
The labours of Pomona fade :
A plaint is heard from ev'ry tree;
Each budding flow'ret calls for theo;
The birds forget to love and sing;
With storms alone the forests ring.
Come then, with Pleasure at thy side,
Diffuse thy vernal spirit wide ;
Create, where'er thou turn'st thine eye,
Peace, Plenty, Love, and Harmony;
Till every being share its part,
And Heav'n and Earth be glad at heart.

EPITAPH

ON

MR. GRAY'S MONUMENT,

IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY,

BT MR. MASON. No more the Grecian Muse unrivall'd reigns,

To Britain let the nations homage pay ! She boasts a Homer's fire in Milton's strains,

A Pindar's rapture in the lyre of Gaar.

SELECT POEMS.

ODES.

ON THE SPRING.

Lo! where the rosy-bosum'd Hours,

Fair Venus' train, appear,
Disclose the long-expected flowers,

And wake the purple year!
The Attic warbler pours her throat,
Pesponsive to the cuckoo's note,

The untaught harmony of Spring : While, whispering pleasure as they fly, Cool Zephyrs, through the clear blue sky

Their gather'd fragrance fling.

Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch

A broader browner shade,
Where'er the rude and moss-grown beech

O'er-canopies the glade, *
Beside some water's rushy brink
With me the Muse shall sit, and think

a bank
O'er-canopied with luscious woodbine.

Shaksp. Mids. Night's Dream.

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