236 
And when, beneath thofe willows’ boughs, : 
On yon old mofly bridge I lean, 
'To watch the lone ftream as it flows, 
Reftore fome pleafing long-paft fcene. 
‘And when, in folemn tones, the wind 
Sweeps through yon abbey’s crannied cells, 
With dread accordance may my mind 
Swell, as the deepening mufic fwells. 
But, if the dark clouds, tempeft-blown, 
Roll in their dreadful-depth of fhade, 
If night, with terrors round him thrown, 
Thy calm, thy foothing, reign invade, 
‘Fhe threatening fcene I then will leave, 
And to my low-rooft cot retire, _ 
‘There fing thy praife, {weet fprite of eve! 
If thou my liftening foul infpire. 
9.» C.-C: 
: Ls 
March 6, 1802. 
SRP DE 
ODE to the HARVEST-MOON, 
pee CUM ruit imbriferum ver: 
Spicea jam campis cum mefiis inhorruit, et 
cum 
Frumenta in viridi ftipula lactentia turgent : 
Cundta tibi Cererem pubes agreftis adoret. 
VIRGIL. 
NEON of Harvetft, herald mild 
~"~ Of plenty, ruftic labour’s child, 
Hail? ob hail! I greet thy beam, 
As foft it trembles o’er the flream, 
And gilds the ftraw-thatch’d hamlet wide, 
Where innocence and peace refide 5 
°Tis thou that glad’ft with joy the ruftic 
throng, 
Prompteft the tripping dance, th’exhilarating 
fong. 
Moon of Harveft, I do love 
' O’er the uplands now to rove, 
While thy modeft ray ferene, 
Gilds the wide furrounding fcene 5 
And to watch thee riding high 
In the blue vault of the fky, 
Where no thin vapour intercepts thy ray, 
But in unclouded majefty thou walkeft on 
thy way. 
Pleafing *tis, oh modeft moon ! 
Wow the night is at her noon, 
>Neath thy {way to mufing lie, 
‘While around the zephyrs figh, 
Fanning foft the fun-tann’d wheat, 
Ripen’d by the fummer’s heat 5 
Pi@uring all the ruftic’s joy, 
When boundlefs plenty greets his eyey 
And thinking foon, 
Oh modeft moon ! 
How many a femal@eye will roam 
Along the road 
To fee the load, 
The laft dear load of harvet home: 
Storms and tempefts, floods and rains, 
Stern defpoilers of the os 
Original Poetry, 
Hence away the feafon flee, 
Foes to light-heart jollity ; 
May ng winds, careering high, 
Drive.the clouds along the iky ; 
But may ail nature fmile with afpeé& boon, 
When in the heav’ns thou fhew’ft thy face, 
oh Harveft-moon !- 
"Neath yon lowly roof he lies, 
The hufbandman, with fleep-feal’d eyess - 
_He dreams of crowded barns, and round 
The yard he hears the flail refound ; | 
Oh! may no hurricane deftroy 
His vifionary views of joy: 
God of the winds! oh hear his humble 
pray’, - 
And while the Moon of Harveft thines, thy 
bluft’ring whirlwinds fpare. 
Sons of luxury, to you 
Leave I fleep’s dull pow’r to woo3 
Prefs ye fill the downy bed, 
While fevridh dreams furround your head 5 
I will feek the woodland glade, 
Penetrate the thickeft fhade, 
Wrapt in contemplation’s dreams, 
Mufing high on holy themes, 
While on the gale, 
Shall foftly fail 
The nightingale’s enchanting tune; ; 
And oft my eyes 
Shall grateful rife, 
To greet the modeft Harveft Moon! 
Nottingham, Feb. 20, 1802+ H.K. We . 
Sener 
EPIGRAMS. 
FRANK once afked a friend‘ don’t you 
think I fpeak well, 
Tho’ I ne’er take a book from its fhelf ?* 
*¢ How the talent you've gain’d (faid his 
friend) I can’t tell, 
But I own you {peak well—of yourfelf.” 
Oh! had it been, well-natured Ned, .thy- 
doom 
To toil, inftead of learning, at a loom; 
The labour of thy hand had gained thee 
bread, . 
And {pared the fruitlefs labour of thy head. 
Of his fine feelings, Jack may well be vain 
For moft acutely has he felt—a cane.. 
So long yon virgin has furviv’d her prime, 
Her brea® feeras chilled, by the cold hand of 
time ; 
The fofter pall fions long have loft their pow’r, 
Scandal and cards waite now each joylefs 
hour; 
She,. on by charms has ceafed to wound the 
bear ty 
At reputation points the envenomed dart 5 
And, in the gamefter’s #kill profoundly 
{chool’ By 
Qur leve fhe wins not, but fhe wins our gold. 
Re 
pgat 
