He who offends at pert nineteen,
Ere thirty may become, I ween,
A very harden'd sinner.

Now, Clare, I must return to you,
And, sure, apologies are due;

Accept. then my concession.

In truth, dear Clare, in fancy's flight
I soar along from left to right;
My muse admires digression.

I think I said 't would be your fate
To add one star to royal state;

May regal smiles attend you!
And should a noble monarch reign,
You will not seek his smiles in vain,
If worth can recommend you.

Yet since in danger courts abound,
Where specious rivals glitter round,

From snares may saints preserve you; And grant your love or friendship ne'er From any claim a kindred care,

But those who best deserve you!

Not for a moment may you stray
From truth's secure, unerring way!
May no delights decoy!

O'er roses may your footsteps move,
Your smiles be ever smiles of love,
Your tears be tears of joy!

Oh! if you wish that happiness
Your coming days and years may bless,
And virtues crown your brow;
Be still as you were wont to be,
Spotless as you've been known to me,
Be still as you are now.

And though some trifling share of praise,
To cheer my last declining days,

To me were doubly dear;

Whilst blessing your beloved name,
I'd waive at once a poet's fame,
To prove a prophet here.

1807.

70

80

90

100

LINES WRITTEN BENEATH AN ELM IN THE CHURCHYARD OF HARROW

SPOT of my youth! whose hoary branches sigh,

Swept by the breeze that fans thy cloudless sky;

TRANSLATION FROM ANA

CREON

Εἰς ῥόδον. — Ode 5.

[First printed in Edition of 1898 from a manuscript in possession of Mr. Murray.] MINGLE with the genial bowl The Rose, the flow'ret of the Soul, The Rose and Grape together quaff'd, How doubly sweet will be the draught! With Roses crown our jovial brows, While every cheek with Laughter glows; While Smiles and Songs, with Wine incite, To wing our moments with Delight. Rose by far the fairest birth,

Which Spring and Nature cull from Earth-
Rose whose sweetest perfume given,
Breathes our thoughts from Earth to
Heaven -

Rose whom the Deities above,
From Jove to Hebe, dearly love,
When Cytherea's blooming Boy
Flies lightly through the dance of Joy,
With him the Graces then combine,
And rosy wreaths their locks entwine.
Then will I sing divinely crown'd,
With dusky leaves my temples bound
Lyæus in thy bowers of pleasure,
I'll wake a wildly thrilling measure.
There will my gentle Girl and I
Along the mazes sportive fly,
Will bend before thy potent throne
Rose, Wine, and Beauty, all my own.

1805.

--

139

To Ossian, Orb of Light! thou look'st in vain,

Nor canst thou glad his aged eyes again, Whether thy locks in Orient Beauty stream, Or glimmer through the West with fainter gleam

But thou, perhaps, like me with age must bend;

Thy season o'er, thy days will find their end, No more yon azure vault with rays adorn, Lull'd in the clouds, nor hear the voice of Morn.

Exult, O Sun, in all thy youthful strength! Age, dark unlovely Age, appears at length, As gleams the moonbeam through the broken cloud

31

While mountain vapours spread their misty shroud

The Northern tempest howls along at last, And wayworn strangers shrink amid the

blast.

Thou rolling Sun who gild'st those rising towers,

Fair didst thou shine upon my earlier hours! I hail'd with smiles the cheering rays of Morn,