have figned our names as witneffes hereto,

RICHARD BAKER,

THOMAS WILSON,

JOSEPH TURNER.

Proved at London the twelfth of August, 1771, before the Worshipful Andrew Coltre Ducarel, Doctor of Laws, and Surrogate, by the oaths of the Reverend William Mafon, Clerk, Mafter of Arts, and the Reverend James Browne, Clerk, Master of Arts, the executors; to whom administration was granted, having been first fworn duly to adminifter.

Majestic rifes on th' aftonished fight,

Where oft the mufe has led the favourite swain,

And warm'd his foul with Heaven's inspiring

light,

Beneath the covert of the fylvan shade,

Where deadly cypress, mix'd with mournful yew, Far o'er the vale a gloomy ftillness spread,, Celestial Genius burft upon the view. C 4

The

The bloom of youth, the majesty of years,
The foften'd afpect, innocent and kind,
The figh of forrow, and the ftreaming tears,
Refiftless all, their various pow'r combin'd.

In her fair hand a filver harp fhe bore,

Whose magic notes, foft-warbling from the ftring,
Give tranquil joy the breast ne'er knew before,
Or raise the foul on rapture's airy wing.

By grief impell'd, I heard her heave a figh,
While thus the rapid ftrain refounded thro' the sky:

Hafte, ye fifter powers of fong,

Haften from the shady grove,

Where the river rolls along,

Sweetly to the voice of love.

Where, indulging mirthful pleasures,
Light you press the flow'ry green,
And from Flora's blooming treasures
Cull the wreaths for fancy's queen.

Where your gently-flowing numbers,
Floating on the fragrant breeze,
Sink the foul in pleafing flumbers,
On the downy bed of cafe.

For

TEARS OF GENIUS.

For graver ftrains prepare the plaintive lyre,
That wakes the fofteft feelings of the foul;
Let lonely grief the melting verfe inspire,
Let deep'ning forrow's folemn accents roll.

Rack'd by the hand of rude difeafe
Behold our fav'rite poet lies!
While every object form'd to please,
Far from his couch ungrateful flies.

The bliísful mufe, whose favouring smile
So lately warm'd his peaceful breaft,
Diffufing heavenly joys the while,

In tranfport's radiant garments dreft,

XXXV

With darksome grandeur and enfeebl'd blaze,
Sinks in the fhades of night, and fhuns his eager
gaze.

The gaudy train, who wait on SPRING,
Ting'd with the pomp of vernal pride,
The youth who mount on pleasure's wing t,
And idly sports on Thames's fide,

With cool regard their various arts employ,
Nor rouse the drooping mind, nor give the pause

of joy.

* Ode on SPRING.

+ Ode on the Profpect of Erok COLLEGE.

1

Ha! what forms, with port fublime*,
Glide along in fullen mood,
Scorning all the threats of time,

High above misfortune's flood?

They seize their harps, they strike the lyre,
With rapid hand, with freedom's fire.

Obedient nature hears the lofty found,

And Snowdon's airy cliffs the heavenly ftrains refound.

In pomp of ftate, behold they wait,

With arms outstretch'd, and afpects kind, To fnatch on high to yonder sky,

The child of fancy left behind :

Forgot the woes of Cambria's fatal day,

By rapture's blaze impell'd, they fwell the artlefs lay.

But ah in vain they ftrive to footh,

With gentle arts, the tort'ring hours
ADVERSITY †, with rankling tooth,

Her baleful gifts profufely pours.

Behold fhe comes, the fiend forlorn,
Array'd in horror's fettled gloom;

* BARD, an Ode.

+ Hymn to ADVERSITY,

;

She