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Beyond what he can reach to know,
And that Heav'n's all-fubduing will,
With good the progeny of ill,
Attempers every state below.

How pleafing wears the wintry night,
Spent with the old illuftrious dead!
While, by the taper's trembling light,
I seem those awful courts to tread
Where chiefs and legiflators lie,
Whofe triumphs move before my eye
With every laurel fresh display'd;
While charm'd I tafte th' Ionian song,
Or bend to Plato's godlike tongue
Refounding thro' the olive shade.

But if the gay, well-natur'd friend
Bids leave the ftudious page awhile,
Then easier joys the foul unbend,
And teach the brow a fofter fmile;
Then while the genial glass is paid
By each to her, that fairest majd,
Whose radiant eyes his hopes obey,
What lucky vows his bofom warm!
While abfence heightens ev'ry charm,
And love invokes returning May.

May! thou delight of heav'n and earth,
When will thy happy morn arise?
When the dear place which gave her birth
Restore Lucinda to my eyes?

There while fhe walks the wonted grove,
The feat of mufic and of love,

Bright

Bright as the ONE primeval fair,
Thither, ye filver-founding lyres,
Thither, gay fmiles and young defires,
Chaste hope and mutual faith repair.

And if believing love can read
The wonted softness in her eye,
Then fhall my fears, O charming maid,
And every pain of abfence die:
Then ofter to thy name attun'd,
And rifing to diviner found,
I'll wake the free Horatian fong:
Old Tyne shall listen to my tale,
And Echo, down the bord'ring vale,
The liquid melody prolong.

DR. AKENSIDE.

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FLY! 'tis dire Sufpicion's mien;

And, meditating plagues unfeen,
The forc'refs hither bends:
Behold her torch in gall imbrued;
Behold her garments drop with blood
Of lovers and of friends.

Fly far! already in your eyes
I see a pale fuffufion rise:

And

And foon thro' every vein,

Soon will her fecret venom spread,

And all your heart, and all your head
Imbibe the potent ftain.

Then come the hours of shame and fear;
Then hints of horror feize

your ear;
While gleams of loft delight
Raise the deep discord of the brain,
As lightning fhines along the main

Thro' whirlwinds and thro' night.

No more can faith or candour move;
But each ingenuous deed of love
Which once you would applaud,
Now, fmiling o'er her dark diftrefs,
Malignant fancy longs to drefs
Like injury and fraud.

Farewel to virtue's peaceful times!
For foon you'll stoop to act the crimes
You thus can stoop to fear:

When Vice begins her ugly train
With wrongs of fuch unmanly ftain,
What horrors form the rear!

"Tis thus to work her baleful pow'r, Sufpicion waits the fullen hour

Of fretfulness and ftrife,

When care th' infirmer bosom wrings,

Or Eurus shakes his gloomy wings
To damp the feats of life.

But

But come, forfake the scene unbleft,
Which first beheld your candid breast,
To groundless fears a prey;

Come, where with my prevailing lyre
The fkies, the ftreams, the groves confpire
To charm your doubts away.

Thron'd in the fun's descending car,
What power unfeen diffufes far
This tenderness of mind?

What Genius fmiles on every flood?
What God, in whifpers from the wood,
Bids every heart be kind?

O thou, whate'er thy awful name,
Whose breath awak'd th' immortal flame
That moves my active veins;

Thou, who by fair affection's ties
Haft doubled all my future joys,
And half difarm'd my pains;

Let univerfal Candour ftill,

Clear as yon heav'n-reflecting rill,

Preferve my open mind;

Nor THIS, nor THAT man's crooked views,

One mean or cruel doubt infuse

To injure human kind.

DR. AKENSIDE.

SECT.

SECT. LXIX.

TO A GENTLEMAN WHOSE MISTRESS HAD MARRIED AN OLD MAN.

INDEED, my Phædria, if to find

That gold a female's vow can gain,
If this had e'er difturb'd your mind,
Or cost one serious moment's pain,
I fhould have said that all the rules
You learnt of moralifts and schools,
Were very useless, very vain.

Yet I perhaps mistake the case;
And tho' with this heroic air,
Like one that holds a nobler chace,
You feem the lady's lofs to bear,
Perhaps your heart bely'd your tongue,
And thinks my cenfure mighty wrong
To count it such a slight affair.

When Helper gilds the fhaded fky,
Slow-wandering thro' the well-known grove,
Methinks I fee you cast your eye
Back to the morning scenes of love:
Her tender look, her graceful way,
The pretty things you heard her fay,
Afresh your struggling fancy move.

Then tell me, is your foul intire?
Does Wisdom calmly hold her throne?
Then can you question each defire,

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