XIX.

Awhile her magic ftrikes the novel eye,
Awhile the faery forms delight;
And now aloof we feem to fly
On purple pinions through a purer sky,
Where all is wonderous, all is bright:
Now landed on some spangled fhore
Awhile each dazzled maniac roves

By faphire lakes, through em'rald groves.
Paternal acres please no more;

Adieu the fimple, the fincere delight-
Th' habitual fcene of hill and dale,
The rural herds, the vernal gale,
The tangled vetch's purple bloom,
The fragrance of the bean's perfume,
Be theirs alone who cultivate the foil,

A

And drink the cup of thirst, and cat the bread of toil.

XX.

But foon the pageant fades away!
'Tis Nature only bears perpetual fway.

We pierce the counterfeit delight,
Fatigu'd with splendour's irkfoine beams,
Fancy again demands the fight

Of native groves, and wonted streams,

Pants for the scenes that charm'd her youthful eyes,

Where Truth maintains her court, and banishes difguife.

XXI. Then

XXI.

Then hither oft ye fenators retire,
With Nature here high converse hold;
For who like STAMFORD her delights admire,
Like STAMFORD fhall with fcorn behold
Th' unequal bribes of pageantry and gold;
Beneath the British oak's majestic shade,
Shall fee fair Truth, immortal maid,
Friendâhip in artless guise array'd,
Honour, and moral Beauty fhine

With more attractive charms, with radiance more divine.

XXII,

Yes, here alone did highest Heav'n ordain

The lasting magazine of charms,
Whatever wins, whatever warms,
Whatever fancy feeks to fhare,
The great, the various, and the fair,
For ever fhould remain !

XXIII.

Her impulfe nothing may reftrain-
Or whence the joy 'mid columns, tow'rs,
'Midft all the city's artful trim,

To rear fome breathlefs vapid flow'rs,

Or fhrubs fuliginously grim:

b Harry Booth the fourth Earl of Stamford. He died the 24th of

June 1768.

From

From rooms of filken foliage vain :
To trace the dun far distant grove,
Where fmit with undiffembled pain,
The wood-lark mourns her abfent love,
Borne to the dusty town from native air,

To mimic rural life, and foothe fome vapour'd fair.

XXIV.

But how must faithless Art prevail,
Should all who tafte our joy fincere,

To virtue, truth or fcience dear,
Forego a court's alluring pale,

For dimpled brook and leafy grove,

For that rich luxury of thought they love!
Ah no, from these the public sphere requires
Example for its giddy bands;

From these impartial Heav'n demands.
To fpread the flame itself infpires;

To fift Opinion's mingled mafs,

Impress a nation's tafte, and bid the sterling pass,

XXV.

Happy, thrice happy they,

Whofe graceful deeds have exemplary fhone

९

Round the gay precincts of a throne,

With mild effective beams!

Who bands of fair ideas bring,
By folemn grott, or fhady fpring,
To join their pleafing dreams!

Theirs is the rural blifs without alloy,

They only that deferve, enjoy.

What though nor fabled Dryad haunt their grove,

Nor Naiad near their fountain rove,

Yet all embody'd to the mental fight,
A train of smiling Virtues bright

Shall there the wife retreat allow,

Shall twine triumphant palms to deck the wanderer's brow.
XXVI.

And though by faithless friends alarm'd,
Art have with Nature wag'd prefumptuous war;
By SEYMOUR'S winning influence charm'd,
In whom their gifts united fhine,

No longer fhall their counfels jar.

'Tis hers to mediate the peace :

Near Percy-lodges, with awe-ftruck mien,

The rebel feeks her lawful Queen,

And havoc and contention cease.

I fee the rival pow'rs combine,
And aid each other's fair defign;

Nature exalt the mound where Arts fhall build;
Art shape the gay alcove, while Nature paints the field.

c Percy-lodge near Colebrook, in Middlesex, a feat belonging to the Dutchefs, which had been purchafed of Lord Bathurst. The name by which it had formerly been known was Richings,

5

XXVII. Begin,

XXVII.

Begin, ye fongfters of the grove!
O warble forth your noblest lay;
Where SOMERSET Vouchfafes to rove,
Ye leverets, freely sport and play.
-Peace to the ftrepent horn!

Let no harfh diffonance difturb the morn,
No founds inelegant and rude

Her facred folitudes profane!

Unless her candour not exclude

The lowly fhepherd's votive ftrain,

Who tunes his reed amidst his rural chear,

Fearful, yet not averfe, that SOMERSET fhould hear.

****

INSCRIPTION near a SHEEP-COTE. 1745

BY THE SAME.

Hepherd, would't thou here obtain

Pleafure unalloy'd with pain?

Joy that fits the rural sphere?
Gentle fhepherd! lend an ear.

Learn to relish calm delight,
Verdant vales, and fountains bright;

Trees that nod on floping hills,

Caves that eho tinkling rills.