From ber Miscellanies," Oxford, 1750

• 324

A ballade of the not-browne mayde. From Mr.

Capels Prolufons," 1760, compared with the

Reliques of ancient English poetry," 1775 32, Harpalus complaint of Phillidaes love bestowed on

Corin, who loved her not; and denied bim that loved her. From Songes and sonettes written by Henry Haward earle of Surrey, and other," 1557

344 Epigram. On wit. From A collection of epigrams," 1737

349 An epitaph on a poor boneft man; intended to be

plac'd on a stone in the chancel of the cburch of Brombam in the county of Wilts. From The

foundling-hospital for wit," 1743 A tranpation of an Irish Song, beginning Ma ville

flane g’un oughth chegh khune, &c. From The

gentleman's magazine," for October, 1751 • 331 To Mr. Secretary Murray, on bis turning evidence. From a printed copy, 1747

- 353 The beggar. From Pearches collection

- 357 An beroic epiftle to fir William Chambers, knight, &c.

From the 14th edition, 1777


- 360

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Silent Nymph, with curious eye!
Who, the purple ev'ning, lie
On the mountain's lonely van,
Beyond the noise of busy man,
Painting fair the form of things,
While the yellow linnet fings;


* Born 1700 ; dyed 1758.






Or the tuneful nightingale
Charms the forest with her tale ;
Come, with all thy various hues,
Come, and aid thy sister Muse;
Now while Phoebus riding high
Gives lustre to the land and sky !
Grongar Hill invites my song,
Draw the landskip bright and strong;
Grongar, in whose mosly cells
Sweetly musing Quiet dwells;
Grongar, in whose filent shade,
For the modest Muses made,
So oft I have, the ev’ning still,
At the fountain of a rill,
Sate upon a flow'ry bed,

hand beneath


While stray'd my eyes o'er Towy's food,
Over mead, and over wood,
From house to house, from hill to hill,
Till Contemplation had her fill.

About his chequer'd fides I wind,
And leave his brooks and meads behind,
And groves, and grottoes where I lay,
And vistoes Thooting beams of day:
Wide and wider spreads the vale ;
As circles on a smooth canal:
The mountains round, unhappy fate!
Sooner or later, of all height,

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gay, the


Withdraw their summits from the skies,
And lessen as the others rise :
Still the prospect wider spreads,
Adds a thousand woods and meads ;
Still it widens, widens still,
And finks the newly-risen hill.

Now I gain the mountain's brow,
What a landskip lies below!
No clouds, no vapours intervene,
But the


Does the face of nature show,
In all the hues of heaven's bow !
And, swelling to embrace the light,
Spreads around beneath the sight.

Old castles on the cliffs arise,
Proudly tow'ring in the skies !
Rushing from the woods, the spire's
Seem from hence ascending fires !
Half his beams Apollo sheds
On the yellow mountain-heads!
Gilds the fleeces of the flocks :
And glitters on the broken rocks!

Below me trees unnumber'd rise,
Beautiful in various dyes :
The gloomy pine, the paplar blue,
The yellow beech, the fable yew,
The Nender fir, that taper grows,
The sturdy oak with broad-spread boughs.

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