ss) 
1797. |! 
TO THE PRIMROSE, 
BY THE REV. J: 2 BIDLAKE, 
(Author of the Sea, a Poem. } 
PALE vifitant of balmy fpring, 
oy of the new-born year, 
That bidft young Hope new plume his wing, 
Soon as thy buds appear : 
While o’er the incenfe-breathing fky 
The tepid hours firft dare to fly, 
And vainly woo the cnilling breeze; 
That bred in Winter’s frozen lap, 
Still ftrugeling chains the lingering fap 
Within the widow’d trees, 
Remote from towns, thy tranfient life 
Is {pent in fkies more pure; 
The fuburb {moke, the feat of ftrife, 
Thou can but ill endure. 
Coy ruftic! that art blooming found 
Where artlefs Nature’s charms abound, 
Sweet neighbour of the chanter mill ; 
Well pleafed to fip his filv’ry tide, 
Or nodding o’er the fountain’s fide, 
Self-gazing look thy All. 
Or on the dingles fhadowy fteep, 
The gaudy furze beneath, 
Thy modeft beauties fweetly peep, 
Thy chafter odours breathe. 
From luxury we turn afide, 
From wealth and oftentatious pride, 
With many an emblematic thorn 5 
Thy humbler mien well pleafed to meet, 
Like competence in bleft retreat, 
Thy fmiles the fpring adorn. , 
What tho’ thy boaft no fplendid hue 
Of Flora’s prouder race, 
To me more fair art thou to view 
In all thy fimpler grace. 
Thine innocence and beauty meek, 
More like my Celeftina’s cheek, 
Where all the modeft virtues play ; 
Expreffion beaming from her eye, 
In cherub {miles of chaftity, 
With mild and temper’d ray. 
Yet treafures lurk within thy lips 
To glad the fpoiler bee, 
Who not with idle errand -fips, 
_ Or wanton vagrancy. 
Ah blef is he who temperance tries, 
Simplicity above difguife, 
And fhuns the falfer glofs of art 5 
Tis he extracts a blifs refin’d, 
Congenial to the virtuous mind, 
The tender feeling heart. 
‘Thy {miles young Innocence invite, 
What time thy lids awake, 
In fhadowy lane to tafte delight, 
Or mazy tangled brake. 
The infant troop of rofy hue, 
And gay with health I feem to view, 
While Pleafure lights their laughing eyes 5 
With little hands a wreath combine, 
Their fugitive delights entwine, 
And boaft their fagrant prize. 
Original Poetry. 297 
Ah happy breafts! unknown to pain, 
I would not fpoil your joys; 
Nor vainly teach you to complain 
Of fife’s delufive toys, 
Be jogund ftill, ftill fport and fmiley 
Nor dream of woe or future guile; 
For foor fhall ye awaken’d find 
The joys of life’s fad thorny way 
But fading flow’ rets of a day, 
Cut down by every wind. 
Ee 
A We eS Ae 
H Cynthia would thy gentle ear 
But once attend a mortal voice 5 
Wouldft thou my with with favour hear, 
And grant the fubjeét of my choice ; 
I would not afk a mighty, mighty boon; 
I would not afk a kingdom, gentle moon 
I would but beg to take my place, 
Befide thee in thy filver car, 
When o’er the heavens enlightened face 
Thou throw’ ft thy playful beams afar, 
And mounted on a well-directed ray, 
To diftant manfions wing my rapid way 5 
Then gliding to my Damon’s bed, 
Imprint a kifs upon his lip, 
And from his flumber-folded head, | 
A raven ringlet foftly elip ; 
And on his pillow lay a potent charm, 
‘To guard his fleep from any lurking harm, 
Then turn my fecret courfe again, 
And creep into my little nook, 
And prefs the ringlet of my fwain, 
And think upon his ’witching look 5 
And blefs his lovely name, and fmile, and 
weeps 
And thank thee for the boon, then turn te 
fleep. 
ELOISA. 
a 
To a Lavy with a BOX oF RovGE. 
MUST I comply with what you afk— 
Chbedient when you fpeak ? 
Ch! let me choofe fome other tafk, 
T will not paint that cheek. 
Sooner would I the fun-beam bear, 
Or brave the rifing ftorm— 
And fooner fhed the patient tear, 
Than female youth deform. 
How has dame Nature harm’d you yet, 
That you with her mutt part ; 
Oh! why would you her care forget, 
To be a Child of Art? 
Thofe eyes fhall ever influence rainy 
While beauty has a charm-— 
And ne’er fhall look on man in vain, 
While love the heart can warm. 
Then let your face, as lilies fair, 
With lily-palenefs vie 5 
Let blufhes, which the fimple wear, 
The rofe’s red fupply ;- 
And for this trifle, tho’ there be 
No want of fuch-like aid, 
Kifs it, becaufe it came from me, 
And Iam well repaid, EXTEMPORE. 
TO 
