Miscellany Poems

Me into Foreign Realms my Fate conveys,
Through Nations fruitful of Immortal Lays,
Where the foft Seafon and inviting Clime
Confpire to trouble your Repofe with Rhime,
For wherefoe'er I turn my ravish'd Eyes,
Gay gilded Scenes and fhining Prospects rise,
Poetick Fields encompass me around,
And still I feem to tread on Claffic Ground;
VOL. V.

For here the Muse so oft her Harp has ftrung,
That not a Mountain rears its Head unfung,
Renown'd in Verfe each fhady Thicket grows,
And ev'ry Stream in Heav'nly Numbers flows.
How am I pleas'd to fearch the Hills and Woods
> For rifing Springs and celebrated Floods!
To view the Nar, tumultuous in his Course,
And trace the smooth Clitumnus to his Sourse,
To fee the Mincio draw his watry Store

Through the long windings of a fruitful Shore,
And hoary Albula's infected Tide

O'er the warm Bed of smoaking Sulphur glide.
Fir'd with a thousand Raptures I furvey
-Eridanus through flow'ry Meadows ftray,

The King of Floods! that rolling o'er the Plains
The Tow'ring Alps of half their moisture drains,
And proudly fwoln with a whole Winter's Snows,
Distributes Wealth and Plenty where he flows.
Sometimes mifguided by the tuneful Throng,
I look for Streams immortaliz❜d in Song,
That loft in Silence and Oblivion lye,

(Dumb are their Fountains and their Channels dry) Yet run for ever by the Mufes skill,

And in the smooth Description murmur ftill.
Sometimes to gentle Tiber I retire,
And the fam'd River's empty Shores admire,
That deftitute of ftrength derives its Courfe
From thrifty Urns and an unfruitful Sourfe;
Yet fung so often in Foetick Lays,
With fcorn the Danube and the Nile farveys.
So high the deathlefs Muse exalts her Theme!
Such was the Boin, a poor inglorious Stream,
That in Hibernian Vales obfcurely ftray'd,
And unobserv'd in wild Meanders play'd;
Till by Tour Lines and Naffau's Sword renown'd,
Its rifing Billows through the World refound,
Where e'er the Heroe's Godlike Acts can pierce,
Or where the Fame of an Immortal Verse.

Oh cou'd the Mufe my ravisht Breast inspire With Warmth like yours, and raise an equal Fire, Unnumber'd Beauties in my Verse shou'd shine, And Virgil's Italy fhou'd yield to mine!

See how the Golden Groves around me fmile, That fhun the Coast of Britain's stormy Ifle; Or when tranfplanted and preferv'd with Care, Curfe the Cold Clime, and starve in Northern Air. Here kindly Warmth their mounting Juice ferments To nobler Tastes, and more exalted Scents. Ev❜n the rough Rocks with tender Myrtle bloom, And trodden Weeds fend out a rich Perfume. Bear me fome God to Baja's gentle Seats, Or cover me in Umbria's Green Retreats; Where Western Gales eternally refide, And all the Seasons layish all their Pride, Bloffoms, and Fruits, and Flowers together rife, And the whole Year in gay Confusion lies. Immortal Glories in my Mind revive, And in my Soul a thousand Paffions strive, When Rome's exalted Beauties I descry Magnificent in Piles of Ruin lye: An Amphitheater's amazing height Here fills my Eye with Terror and Delight, That on its publick Shows unpeopled Rome, And held uncrowded Nations in its Womb. Here Pillars rough with Sculpture pierce the Skies, And here the proud Triumphal Arches rife, Where the old Romans deathless A&ts display'd, Their base degenerate Progeny upbraid.

Whole Rivers heré forfake the Fields below, And wondring at their height through airy Channels flow.

Still to new Scenes my wandring Mufe retires, And the dumb fhow of breathing Rocks admires; Where the fmooth Chiffel all its Force has shown, And foften'd into Flesh the rugged Stone.

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Miscellany Poems: Containing Variety of New Translations of the ..., Volume 5