aa

At Aix, his voluntary sword he drew,aa

There first in blood his infant honour seal'd; From fortune, pleasure, science, love he flew, And scorn'd repose when Britain took the field.

With eyes of flame, and cool undaunted breast,
Victor he stood on Bellisle's rocky steeps-
Ah, gallant youth! this marble tells the rest,
Where melancholy Friendship bends and

weeps.

STANZAS TO MR. BENTLEY.

IN silent

gaze

A FRAGMENT.

the tuneful choir among, Half pleas'd, half blushing, let the Muse admire,

While Bentley leads her Sister-Art along,
And bids the pencil answer to the lyre.

See, in their course, each transitory thought
Fix'd by his touch a lasting essence take;
Each dream, in Fancy's airy colouring wrought,
To local symmetry and life awake!

The tardy rhymes that us'd to linger on,

To censure cold, and negligent of fame,

In swifter measures animated run,

And catch a lustre from his genuine flame.

Ah! could they catch his strength, his easy grace, His quick creation, his unerring line;

aa In the expedition to Aix, he was on board the Magnanime, with Lord Howe; and was deputed to receive the capitulation.

Mr. Bentley had made a set of designs for Mr. Gray's poems.

The energy of Pope they might efface,
And Dryden's harmony submit to mine.
But not to one in this benighted age
Is that diviner inspiration giv'n;
That burns in Shakspeare's or in Milton's page,
The pomp and prodigality of heav'n:

As when conspiring in the diamond's blaze,
The meaner gems, that singly charm the sight,
Together dart their intermingled rays,
And dazzle with a luxury of light.

Enough for me, if to some feeling breast
My lines a secret sympathy impart;
And as their pleasing influence flows confess'd,
A sigh of soft reflection heave the heart.

SONG.

THYRSIS, when he left me, swore
In the Spring he would return-
Ah! what means the opening flower!
And the bud that decks the thorn!
'Twas the nightingale that sung!
'Twas the lark that upward sprung!

Idle notes! untimely green!
Why such unavailing haste?
Gentle gales and sky serene

Prove not always Winter past.
Cease, my doubts, my fears to move,
Spare the honour of my love.

The words in italic were supplied by Mr. Mason. Written, at the request of Miss Speed, to an old air of Geminiani: the thought from the French.

AMATORY LINES.

WITH Beauty, with Pleasure surrounded, to languish

To weep without knowing the cause of my

anguish:

To start from short slumbers, and wish for the

morning;

To close my dull eyes when I see it returning; Sighs sudden and frequent, looks ever dejected, Words that steal from my tongue, by no meaning connected!

Ah, say, fellow-swains, how these symptoms befel me?

They smile, but reply not-Sure DELIA CAN TELL ME!

THUS Tophet look'd; so grinn'd the brawling fiend,

Whilst frighted prelates bow'd, and call'd him friend.

Our mother-church, with half-averted sight, Blush'd as she bless'd her grisly proselyte; Hosannas rung through Hell's tremendous borders,

And Satan's self had thoughts of taking orders.

This jeu d'esprit was found among the MSS. of Gray, and printed in a note in the second volume of Warton's edition of Pope.

b Mr. Etough, of Cambridge University, the person satirized, was as remarkable for the eccentricities of his character as for his personal appearance. A Mr.

M

IMPROMPTU,

SUGGESTED BY A VIEW, IN 1766, OF THE SEAT
AND RUINS OF A DECEASED NOBLEMAN,
AT KINGSGATE, KENT.

OLD, and abandon'd by each venal friend,
Here Hd form'd the pious resolution
To smuggle a few years, and strive to mend
A broken character and constitution.

On this congenial spot he fix'd his choice:
Earl Goodwin trembled for his neighbouring
sand;

Here sea-gulls scream, and cormorants rejoice
And mariners, though shipwreck'd, dread to
land.

Here reign the blustering North and blighting

East,

No tree is heard to whisper, bird to sing;
Yet Nature could not furnish out the feast,
Art he invokes new horrors still to bring.

Here mouldering fanes and battlements arise,
Turrets and arches nodding to their fall,
Unpeopled monast'ries delude our eyes,
And mimic desolation covers all.

"Ah!" said the sighing peer, "had B-te been
true,

Nor M-'s, R-'s, B-'s friendship vain,

Tyson, of Benet College, made an etching of his head, and presented it to Mr. Gray, who embellished it with the above lines. Some information respecting Mr. Etough (who was rector of Therfield, Herts, and of Colmworth, Bedfordshire), may be found in the Gentleman's Magazine, vol. lvi. pp. 25, 281.

Far better scenes than these had bless'd our view,
And realiz'd the beauties which we feign:
"Purg'd by the sword, and purified by fire,
Then had we seen proud London's hated walls:
Owls would have hooted in St. Peter's choir,
And foxes stunk and litter'd in St. Paul's."

THE CANDIDATE:

OR, THE CAMBRIDGE COURTSHIP.a

WHEN sly Jemmy Twitcher had smugg'd up

face,

his

With a lick of court white-wash, and pious grimace,

A wooing he went, where three sisters of old
In harmless society guttle and scold,

"Lord! sister," says PHYSIC to LAW, "I declare,

Such a sheep-biting look, such a pick-pocket air! Not I for the Indies:-You know I'm no prudeBut his name is a shame, and his eyes are so

lewd!

Then he shambles and straddles so oddly-I fear

No-at our time of life 'twould be silly, my dear."

66

"I don't know," says Law, "but methinks for his look

'Tis just like the picture in Rochester's book;

This tart lampoon was written a short time previous to the election of a high steward of the University of Cambridge, for which office the noble lord alluded to made an active canvass.