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In the present happy disposition of the nation the author of the following verses may venture to introduce the complaints of an ideal personage, without seeming to strengthen the faction of real parties; without forfeiting his reputation as a good citizen; or bringing a scandal on the political character of Mr. Fitz-Adam, by making him the publisher of a libel against the state. This ideal personage is no other than Old Mayday, the only apparent sufferer from the present regulation. Her situation is indeed a little mortifying, as every elderly lady will readily allow; since the train of her admirers is withdrawn from her at once, and their adoration transferred to a rival, younger than herself by at least eleven days.

I am, sir,

your most obedient servant,

E. L.

THE TEARS OF OLD MAY-DAY.

LED by the jocund train of vernal hours

And vernal airs, uprose the gentle May; Blushing she rose, and blushing rose the flow'rs That sprung spontaneous in her genial ray.

Her locks with Heav'n's ambrosial dews were bright,

And am'rous Zephyrs flutter'd on her breast: With ev'ry shifting gleam of morning light

The colours shifted of her rainbow vest. Imperial ensigns grac'd her smiling form,

A golden key, and golden wand she bore; This charms to peace each sullen eastern storm, And that unlocks the summer's copious store. Onward in conscious majesty she came.

The grateful honours of mankind to taste; To gather fairest wreaths of future fame And blend fresh triumphs with her glories

past.

Vain hope! no more in choral bands unite
Her virgin vot'ries, and at early dawn.
Sacred to May and Love's mysterious rite,
Brush the light dew-drops from the spangled
lawn.

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To her no more Augusta's wealthy pride
Pours the full tribute from Potosi's mine;
Nor fresh blown garlands village maids provide,
A purer off'ring at her rustic shrine.

No more the May-pole's verdant height around To valour's games th' ambitious youth advance;

No merry bells and tabers' sprightlier sound Wake the loud carol, and the sportive dance. Sndden in pensive sadness droop'd her head,

Faint on her cheeks the blushing crimson dy'd― "O! chaste victorious triumphs, whither fled? My maiden honours, whither gone?" she cry'd.

"Ah! once to fame and bright dominion born,
The earth and smiling ocean saw me rise,
With time coeval and the star of morn,
The first, the fairest daughter of the skies.

1 A'luding to the country custom of gathering May-dew.

The plate garlands of London.

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"Then, when at Heav'n's prolific mandate sprung
The radiant beam of new created day,
Celestial harps, to airs of triumph strung,
Hail'd the glad dawn, and angel's call'd me
May.

"Space in her empty regions heard the sound,
And hills, and dales, and rocks, and vallies
The Sun exulted in his glorious round, [rung;
And shouting planets in their courses sung.

"For ever then I led the constant year; [wiles; Saw Youth, and Joy, and Love's enchanting Saw the mild Graces in my train appear,

And infant Beauty brighten in my smiles. "No Winter frown'd. In sweet embrace ally'd, Three sister Seasons danc'd th' eternal green; And Spring's retiring softness gently vy'd With Autumn's blush, and Summer's lofty mien.

"Too soon, when man prophan'd the blessings giv❜n,

And vengeance arm'd to blot a guilty age, With bright Astrea to my native Heav'n I fled, and flying saw the Deluge rage: "Saw bursting clouds eclipse the noontide beams, While sounding billows from the mountains roll'd,

With bitter waves polluting all my streams,
My nectar'd streams, that flow'd on sands of

gold.

"Then vanish'd many a sea-girt isle and grove, Their forests floating on the watry plain : Then, fam'd for arts and laws deriv'd from Jove, My Atalantis sunk beneath the main.

"No longer bloom'd primeval Eden's bow'rs, Nor guardian dragons watch'd th' Hesperian With all their fountains, fragrant fruits and flow'rs, steep: Torn from the continent to glut the deep.

"No more to dwell in sylvan scenes I deign'd Yet oft' descending to the languid Earth, With quickning pow'rs the fainting mass sus→ tain'd,

And wak'd her slumb'ring atoms into birth. "And ev'ry echo caught my raptur'd name,

And ev'ry virgin breath'd her am'rous vows, And precious wreaths of rich immortal fame, Show'r'd by the Muses, crown'd my lofty

brows.

"But chief in Europe, and in Europe's pride,
My Albion's favour'd realms, I rose ador'd;
And pour'd my wealth, to other climes deny'd,
From Amalthea's horn with plenty stor❜d.
"Ah me! for now a younger rival claims
My ravish'd honours, and to her belong

My choral dances and victorious games,
To her my garlands and triumphal song.
"O say what yet untasted bounties flow,
What purer joys await her gentle reign?
Do lillies fairer, vi'lets sweeter blow?
And warbles Philomel a softer strain?

• See Flato.

TEARS OF OLD MAY.DAY...JULIA'S PRINTED LETTER. 287

JULIA'S PRINTED LETTER

TO LORD

Do morning suns in ruddier glory rise? Does ev'ning fan her with serener gales ? Do clouds drop fatness from the wealthier skies, Or wantons plenty in her happier vales? "Ah! no: the blunted beams of dawning light Skirt the pale orient with uncertain day; And Cynthia, riding on the car of night, Through clouds embattled faintly wins her Still trust its frailties with the frauds of men.

way.

"Pale, immature, the blighted verdure springs, Nor mounting juices feed the swelling flow'r; Mute all the groves, nor Philomela sings

When Silence listens at the midnight hour. "Nor wonder, man, that Nature's bashful face, And op'ning charms her rude embraces fear: Is she not sprung of April's wayward race,

The sickly daughter of th' unripen'd year? "With show'rs and sunshine in her fickle eyes, With hollow smiles proclaiming treach'rous

peace;

With blushes, harb'ring in their thin disguise, The blast that riots on the Spring's encrease. "Is this the fair invested with my spoil

By Europe's laws, and senates' stern commands?

Ungen'rous Europe, let me fly the soil, And waft my treasures to a grateful land: * Again revive on Asia's drooping shore, My Daphne's groves, or Lycia's ancient plain; Again to Afric's sultry sands restore Embow'ring shades, and Lybian Ammon's fane:

"Or haste to northern Zembla's savage coast, There hush to silence elemental strife; Brood o'er the region of eternal frost,

And swell her barren womb with heat and life. "Then Britain"-here she ceas'd. Indignant grief, And parting pangs her fault'ring tongue supprest:

Veil'd in an amber cloud, she sought relief,
And tears, and silent anguish told the rest.

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-AND dar'st thou then, insulting lord, demand
A friendly answer from this trembling hand?
Perish the thought! shall this unguarded pen

To one, and one alone, again impart
The soft effusions of a melting heart!-
No more thy lips my tender page shall stain,
And print false kisses, dream't sincere in vain;
No more thy eyes with sweet surprise pursue,
Love's secret mysteries there unveil'd to you.
Demand'st thou still an answer?-let it be
An answer worthy vengeance, worthy me !—
Hear it in public characters relate
An ill starr'd passion, and capricious fate!
Yes, public let it stand;-to warn the maid
From her that fell, less vanquish'd, than betray'd:
Guiltless, yet doom'd with guilty pangs to groan,
And expiate other's treasons, not her own:
A race of shame in honour's paths to run,
Still virtue's follower, yet by vice undone;
Such free complaint to injur'd love belongs.
Yes, tyrant, read, and know me by my wrongs;
Know thy own treacheries, bar'd to general view,
Yes, traitor, read, and reading tremble too!

What vice would perpetrate and fraud disI come to blaze it to a nation's eyes; [guise, I come-ah! wretch, thy swelling rage controul. "Was he not once the idol of thy soul?True,-by his guilt thy tortur'd bosom bleeds, Yet spare his blushes, for 'tis love that pleads!Respecting him, respect thy infant flame, Froclaim the treason, hide the traitor's name !Enough to honour, and revenge be given, This truth reserve for conscience and for Heaven!"

What binds the tiger and the lamb be ours!
Talk'st thou,ingrate,of friendship's holy powers?
This cold, this frozen bosom, can'st thou dream
Senseless to love, will soften to esteem?
What means thy proffer'd friendship?-but to
prove
[love-

Thou wilt not hate her, whom thou can'st not
Remember thee!-repeat that sound again!-
My heart applauding echoes to the strain;
Yes, till this heart forgets to beat, and grieve,
Live there thy image-but detested live!-
Still swell my rage-uncheck'd by time, or fate,
Nor waken memory but to kindle hate!—

Enter thy treacherous bosom, enter deep, Hear conscience call, while flatt'ring passions sleep!

Impartial search, and tell thy boasted claim
To love's indulgence and to virtuous fame!
Where harbour Honour, Justice, Faith, and
[my youth:
Bright forms, whose dazzling semblance caught

Truth,

How could I doubt what fairest seem'd and best
Should build its mansion in a noble breast?
How doubt such generous virtues lodg'd in thine
That felt them glowing, tender maid, in mine?
Boast not of trophies from my fall achiev'd,
Boast not, deceiver, in this soul deceiv'd;
Easy the traitor wines an open heart,
Artless itself, and unsuspecting art:

Not by superiour wiles, successful proves,
But fond credulity in her that loves.-

Blush, shameless grandeur, blush!--shall
Britain's peer,

Daring all crimes, not dare to be sincere ?—
His fraud in Virtue's fairest likeness paint,
And hide his nobleness in base constraint.
What charms were mine to tempt thy guilty
fires!
[sires!
What wealth, what honours from illustrious
Can Virtue's simple spoils adorn thy race?
Shall annals mark a village-maid's disgrace?
Ev'n the sad secret, to thyself confin'd,
Sleeps, nor thou dar'st divulge it to mankind:
When bursting tears my inward anguish speak,
When paleness spreads my sometimes flushing
check,

When my frame trembles with convulsive strife,
And spirits flutter on the verge of life,
When to my heart the ebbing pulse is driv'n,
And eyes throw faint accusing beams to Heav'n,
Still from the world those swelling sighs sup-
prest,

Those sorrows streaming in one faithful breast;
Explain to her, from others hide my care,
Thought nature's weakness, and not love's de-
spair,

Fierce and undaunted to a sex appears [tears;
That breathes its vengeance but in sighs and
That helpless sex, by Nature's voice addrest
To lean its weakness on your firmer breast,
Protection pleads in vain-th' ungenerous slave
Insults the virtue he was born to save.-

What! shall the lightest promise lips can feign
Bind man to man in honour's sacred chain ?
And oaths to us not sanctify th' accord,
Not Heav'n attested, and Heav'n's awful Lord?
Why various laws for beings form'd the same?
Equal from one indulgent hand we came,
For mutual bliss that each assign'd its place,
With manly vigour temp'ring female grace.
Depriv'd our gentler intercourse, explain
Your solitary pleasures sullen reign;
What tender joys sit brooding o'er your store,
How sweet ambition slumbers gorg'd with gore!
'Tis our's th' unsocial passions to control,
Pour the glad balm that heals the wounded soul;
From wealth, from power's delusive, restless
dreams

To lure your fancy to diviner themes.—
Confess at length your fancied rights you draw
From force superior, and not Nature's law,
Yet know, by us those boasted arms prevail,
By native gentleness, not man we fail ;
With brave revenge a tyrant's blood to spill
Possessing all the power-we want the will,

The sprightly youth in gloomy languor pine,
My portion misery, yet not triumph thine-
Ah! whence derives thy sex its barbarous powers
To spoil the sweetness of our virgin hours?
Why leave me not, where first I met your eye,
A simple flower to bloom in shades, and die?—Not lurks in fraudful thickets from the day;
Where sprightly morn on downy pinions rose,
And evening lull'd me to a deep repose?
Sharing pure joys, at least divine content,
The choicest treasure for mere mortals meant.
Ah! wherefore poisoning moments sweet as these,
Essay on me thy fatal arts to please?
Destin'd, if prosperous, for sublimer charms,
To court proud wealth, and greatness to thy
arms!

Still if you glory in the lion's force,
Come, nobly emulate that lion's course!
From guarded herds he vindicates his prey,

While man, with snares to cheat, with wiles
perplex,

How many a brighter, many a fairer dame,
Fond of her prize had fann'd thy fickle flame?
With livelier moments sooth'd thy vacant mind?
Easy possess'd thee, easy too resign'd-
Chang'd but her object, passion's willing slave,
Nor felt a wound to fester to the grave-
Oh! had I, conscious of thy fierce desires,
But half consenting, shar'd contagious fires,
But half reluctant, heard thy vows explain'd,
This vanquish'd heart had suffer'd, not com-
plain'd-

But ah, with tears and crouded sighs to sue
False passion's dress in colours meant for true;
Artful assume confusion's sweet disguise,
Meet my coy virtues with dejected eyes,
Steal their sweet language that no words impart,
And give me back an image of my heart,
This, this was treachery, fated best to share

Weakens already weak too soft a sex;

In law's, in custom's, fashion's fetters binds,
Relaxes all the nerves that brace our minds,
Then, lordly savage, rends the captive heart
First gain'd by treachery, then tam'd by art.-

Are these reflections then that love inspires?
Is bitter grief the fruit of fair desires?
From whose example could I dream to find
A claim to curse, perhaps to wrong mankind?
Ah! long I strove to burst th' enchanting tie,
And form'd resolves, that ev'n in forming die;
Too long I linger'd on the shipwreck'd coast,
And ey'd the ocean where my wealth was lost!
In silence wept, scarce venturing to complain,
Still to my heart dissembled half my pain-
Ascrib'd my sufferings to its fears, not you;
Beheld you treacherous, and then wish'd you
true;

Sooth'd by those wishes, by myself deceiv'd,
I fondly hop'd, and what I hop'd believ'd.-
Cruel! to whom? ah! whither should I flee,
Friends, fortune, fame, deserted all for thee!
On whom but you my fainting breast repose?
With whom but you deposit all its woes?
To whom but you explain its stifled groan?

Hate from my bosom, and from thine despair-And live for whom, but love and you alone?

Yet unrelenting still the tyrant cries,
Heedless of pity's voice and beauty's sighs,
"That pious frauds the wisest, best, approve,
And Heaven but smiles at perjuries in love."-
No-'tis the villian's plea, his poor pretence,
To seize a trembling prey, that wants defence,
No tis the base sensation cowards feel;
The wretch that trembles at the brave man's
steel,

What hand to probe my bleeding heart be found? What hand to heal?-but his that gave the wound?

[wide,

O dreadful chaos of the ruin'd mind!
Lost to itself, to virtue, human kind'
From Earth, from Heaven, a meteor flaming
Link'd to no system, to no world allied;
A blank of Nature, vanish'd every thought
That Nature, reason, that experience taught,

Past, present, future trace, alike destroy'd,
Where love alone can fill the mighty void:
That love on unreturning pinions flown
We grasp a shade, the noble substance gone-
From one ador'd and once adoring, dream
Of friendship's tenderness-ev'n cold esteem
(Humble our vows) rejected with disdain,
Ask a last conference, but a parting strain,
More suppliant still, the wretched suit advance,
Plead for a look, a momentary glance,
A letter, token-on destru tion's brink
We catch the feeble plank of hope, and sink.
In those dread moments, when the hov'ring
flame

Scarce languish'd into life, again you came,
Pursued again a too successful theme,
And dry'd my eyes, with your's again to stream;
When treach'rous tears your venial faults con-
fess'd,

And half dissembled, half excus'd the rest,
To kindred griefs taught pity from my own,
Sighs I return'd, and echoed groan for groan;
Your self reproaches stifling mine, approv'd,
And much I credited, for much I lov'd.

Not long the soul this doubtful dream prolongs,

If prompt to pardon, nor forget its wrongs,
It scorns the traitor, and with conscious pride
Scorns a base self, deserting to his side;
Great by misfortune, greater by despair,
Its Heaven once lost, rejects an humbler care;
To drink the dregs of languid joys disdains,
And flies a passion but perceiv'd from pains;
Too just the rights another claims to steal,
Too good its feelings to wish virtue feel,
Perhaps too tender or too fierce, my soul
Disclaiming half the heart, demands the whole.-
I blame thee not, that, fickle as thy race,
New loves invite thee, and the old efface;
That cold, insensible, thy soul appears
To virtue's smiles, to virtue's very tears;
But ah! an heart whose tenderness you knew,
That offer'd Heaven, but second vows to you,
In fond presumption that securely play'd,
Securely slumber'd in your friendly shade,
Whose every weakness, every sigh to share,
The powers that haunt the perjur'd, heard you
swear;

Was this au heart you wantonly resign'd
Victim to scorn, to ruin, and mankind?

Fated like me to court and curse thy fate, To blend in dreadful union love and hate; Chiding the present moment's slumb'ring haste, To dread the future, and deplore the past; Like me condemn th' effect, the cause approve, Renounce the lover, and retain the love. Yes, Love! ev'n now in this ill-fated hour, An exile from thy joys, I feel thy power. The Sun to me his noontide blaze that shrouds, In browner horrours than when veil'd in clouds, The Moon, faint light that melancholy throws, The streams that murmur, yet not court repose, The breezes sickening with my mind's disease, And vallies laughing to all eyes but these, Proclaim thy absence, Love, whose beam alone Lighted my morn with glories not its own, O thou of generous passions purest, best! Soon as thy flame shot rapture to my breast, Each pulse expanding, trembled with delight, And aching vision drank thy lovely light, A new creation brightened to my view, Nurs'd in thy smiles the social passions grew, New strung, the thrilling nerves harmonious And beat sweet unison to others' woes, [rose, Slumb'ring no more a Lethe's lazy flood, In generous currents swell'd the sprightly blood, No longer now to partial streams confin'd, Spread like an ocean, and embrac'd mankind, No more concentering in itself the blaze The soul diffus'd benevolence's rays, Kindled on Earth, pursued th' etherial road, In hallow'd flames ascended to its God.

Yes, Love, thy star of generous influence cheers Our gloomy dwelling in this vale of tears. What? if a tyrant's blasting hand destroys Thy swelling blossoms of expected joys, Converts to poison what for life was given, Thy manna dropping from its native Heaven, Still love victorious triumphs, still confest The noblest transport that can warm the breast; Yes, traitor, yes, my heart to nature true, Adores the passion and detests but you.

ON REBUILDING COMBE-NEVille,

NEAR KINGSTON, SURREY, ONCE THE SEAT OF THE
FAMOUS KING-MAKING EARL OF WARWICK, AND
LATE IN THE POSSESSION OF THE FAMILY OF
HARVEY.

Was this an heart?-O shame of honour, truth, Yg modern domes that rise elate

Of blushing candour, and ingenuous youth!
What means thy pity? what can it restore?
The grave, that yawns till general doom's no

more,

As soon shall quicken, as my torments cease,
Rock'd on the lap of innocence and peace,
As smiles and joy this pensive brow invade,
And smooth the traces by affliction made :
Flames, once extinguish'd, virtue's lamp divine,
And visits honour, a deserted shrine?

No, wretch, too long on passion's ocean tost,
Not Heaven itself restores the good you lost;
The form exists not that thy fancy dream'd,
A fiend pursues thee that an angel seem'd;
Impassive to the touch of reason's ray
His fairy phantom melts in clouds away;
Yet take my pardon in my last farewell,
The wounds you gave, ah cruel! never feel!
VOL. XVI.

O'er yonder prostrate walls,

In vain your hope to match the state Of Neville's ancient halls.

Dread mansion! on thy Gothic tower

Were regal standards rais'd;
The rose of York, white virgin flower,
Or red Lancaster's blaz'd.

Warwick, high chief, whose awful word
Or shook, or fix'd the throne,
Spread here his hospitable board,
Or warr'd in tilts alone.

When Combe her garter'd knights beheld
On barbed steeds advance,

Where ladies crown'd the tented field,
And love inspir'd the lance.

U

Historic heralds here array'd
Fair acts in gorgeous style,
But heroes toils were best repay'd
By bashful beauty's smile.-

So flourish'd Combe, and flourish'd long
With lords of bounteous soul;
Her walls still echoed to the song,

And mirth still drain'd her bowl,

And still her courts with footsteps meek
The fainting traveller prest,
Still misery flush'd her faded cheek
At Harvey's genial feast.-

Lov'd seat, how oft, in childish ease,

Along thy woods I stray'd,

Now vent'rous climb'd embow'ring trees, Now sported in their shade.

Along thy hills the chase I led

With echoing hounds and horns,
And left for thee my downy bed,
Unplanted yet with thorns.

Now, languid with the noontide beams,
Explor'd thy precious springs
That proudly flow 2, like Susa's streams,
To temper cups for kings.

But soon, inspir'd with nobler powers,
I sought thy awful grove;

There frequent sooth'd my evening hours,
That best deceiver, love.

Each smiling joy was there, that springs
In life's delicious prime;
There young ambition plum'd his wings,
And mock'd the flight of time.-
There patriot passions fir'd my breast
With freedom's glowing themes,
And virtue's image rose confest

In bright Platonic dreams.

Ah me! my dreams of harmless youth
No more thy walks invade,
The charm is broke by sober truth,
Thy fairy visions fade.-

No more unstain'd with fear or guilt
Such hours of rapture smile,
Each airy fabric fancy built
Is vanish'd as thy pile!-

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Illustrious nations! Their's was empire's seat,
Their's virtue, freedom, each enchanting grace;
Sculpture with them to bright perfection rose,
Sculpture, whose bold Promethean hand inform'd
The stubborn mass with life-in fretted gold
Or yielding marble, to the raptur'd eye
Display'd the shining conclave of the skies,
And chiefs and sages gave the passions form,
And virtue shape corporeal: taught by her
The obedient brass dissolv'd;

In love's soft fires thy winning charms she stole,
Thou mild retreating Medicean fair.

She mark'd the flowing Dryads lighter step,
The panting bosom, garments flowing loose,
And wanton tresses waving to the wind.-
Again by Pomfret's generous care, these stores
Of ancient fame revisit learning's seats,
Their old abode. O reverence learning's seats,
Ye beauteous arts! for know, by learning's
smiles

Ye grew immortal-Know, however fair
Sculpture and Painting, fairer Poetry,
Your eldest sister, from the Aonian mount,
Imagination's fruitful realm, supply'd
The rich material of your lovely soil.
Her fairy forms, poetic fancy first
Peopled the hills, and vales, and fabled groves
With shapes celestial, and by fountain side
Saw fauns with wanton satyrs lead the dance
With meek-ey'd naïads; saw your Cyprian
Ascending from the ocean's wave;
Poetic fancy in Maonian song
Pictur'd immortal Jove, ere Phidias' hands
Sublime with all his thunders form'd the god.
Here then uniting with your kindred art,
Majestic Grecian sculpture deign to dwell,
Here shadss of Academe again invite,
Athenian philosophic shades, and here
Ye Roman forms, a nobler Tyber flows.

[queen

Come, Pomfret, come, of rich munificence Partake the fame, though candid blushes rise, And modest virtues shun the blaze of day. Pomfret, not all thy honours, splendid train, Not the bright coronet that binds thy brow, Not all thy lovely offspring, radiant queens On beauty's throne, shall consecrate thy praise Like science, boasting in thy genial beam Increasing stores: in these embowering shades Stands the fair tablet of eternal fame ; There memory's adamantine pen records Her sons; but each illustrious female's name In golden characters engrav'd, defies Envy and Time, superior to their rage.Pomfret shall live, the generous Pomfret join'd With Caroline, and martial Edward's queen, And great Eliza, regal names, like thee Smiling on arts and learning's sons they reign'd.And see where Westmorland adorns the train Of learning's princely patrons! Lo, 1 see A new pantheon rise as that of old Famous, nor founded by ignobler hands; Though thine, Agrippa, sway'd the helm of I see enshrin'd majestic awful forms, [Rome: Chiefs, legislators, patriots, beauties, gods. Not him by superstitious fears ador'd With barbarous sacrifice and frantic zeal, Yet not uncelebrated nor unsung, for oft Thou, slumb'ring Cupid, with inverted torch Betokening mildest fires, shall hear the sighs

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