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Or banith'd hence to Paraclete remove,
Where maids may melt, and heretics approve."
While keener fome the venom'd shaft infame,
And point reproach with Eloisa's name.

• Wild at the found to solitude 1 fly,
And meet the form familiar to my eye : -
She comes refulgent in her former charms !
The spouse of heaven is render'd to my arms !
Her voice I hear, on Abelard she calls,
And waves to Paraclete's neglected walls.
Yet, О forbear! those fatal smiles conceal,
And not the woman, but the faint reveal ;
The clasping hands, the scatter'd locks, display,
And streaming tears by angels wip'd away ;
The head that bows to mercy's awful shrine,
The glance that melts with charity divine.
The grateful burst of penitence forgiven,
And aspect radiant with the beams of heaven!

Nor this alone-Superior duties claim
Heaven's awful spouse, a mother's facred name,
Shall earthly parents with preventive fear
Bend o'er the babe that carnal ties endear,
And the alone selected from the rest
To foothe with pious hopes the finner's breast,
Neglect the talk by Providence align'd,
And leave the children of her soul behind ?
Ev’n now, methinks, thy vestal-charge I see,
Diffolv'd in kindred transports caught from thee,
With clearer anthems hail the Saviour's throne,


with ardours not their own.
That where fecluded nature loves to pour
The limpid wave beside the inyrtle bower
The rising walls of Paraclete may fhow
That heavenly comfort deigns to dwell below;
And oft while Helper leads the starry throng
Æthereal harps the closing strain prolong.

From scenes like those when Eloisa's soul
Aspires in holy trance beyond the pole,
When every mortal care is lull'd to reit,
And heaven-plum'd hope expatiates with the blest,
Say, wilt thou shut for ever from thy fight
Whose presence might alloy the pure delight;
Nor lift on hallow'd figh, one friendly prayer,
One tender with to meet thy lover there?

• And sure when hope with infant hold prepar'd
To ftay the morn of bliss we fondly sharid,
Even reason's self could scarcely find to blame,
So guiltless seem'd the involuntary Aame.
Ingenuous arts the tempting hour beguild,

Consenting tafte, indulgent fancy (mil'd;
VOL. LX. July, 1785.



Severer science join'd the blooming train,
And virtue paus'd at love's enchanting firain.

• Alas! that letter'd ease, by heaven design'd
The purest inmate of the feeling mind,
The faireit gift that nature can bestow,
Should prompt the breast with guilty fires to glow!

• Untouch'd, unfway'd by fortune's base controul,
I prais'd not empty form without a soul;
Fair as thou wert, with more than beauty bright
Thy mental charms diffus'd a ítronger light.
And well thou know’it when absent and alone
In gentle verfe I made my wishes known,
Content to please, not emulous to shine
The careless numbers flow'd from rapture's shrine,
Nor once descended to the flatterer's part,
Anxious to gain but not corrupt the heart.
Yet haply those, condemn’d to lasting fame,
In future times shall fan the dangerous fame;
To sure destruction's filken snares engage
The deftin'd victims of a diftant age;
With cruel mirth the scorner's tale prolong,
And lend new licence to the drunkard's song.

O treacherous moment, short, and insecure !
O reign of bliss, too powerful to endure !
When first we felt from infant years untry'd
Thro' every nerve the stings of transport glide-
No more with melting founds divinely clear
Those roseate lips must charm thy lover's ear-

open front of animated snow,
Those auburn ringlets taught by love to flow,
The graceful act, in native virtue free,
Despoil'd in youth's unguarded hour by me-
The upbraiding bluth-the kind relenting eye
That fummond nature to returning joy -
The faith which proffer'd crowns had vainly try'd,
And scarce can heaven with Abelard divide,
For ever loft-nor can the world restore
Those flattering scenes that hope ihall gild no more.'


P Ο Ε Τ R Y. An Invocation to Melancholy. A Fragment. 4to. THE "HE subject of this performance is capable of high poetical

imbellishments, and the author has sometimes succeeded in their delineation. Like Hotspur, he 6 apprehends a world of figures,' but they are not in general properly methodised, nor


accurately expressed. It is probably the production of a young writer; who appears not defective in genius, but we cannot compliment him on his judgment. The War of Wigs, a Poem, occasioned by a late Event in Wc,4

minster-Hall. 4to. 15. 6. Kearsley. This

poem relates the events of a battle, raised without an object, and determined without either victory or defeat. A late commotion in Westminster-hall, from a casual terror, seems to have suggested this wordy war, where ferjeants and barristers contend, with little dignity and less address. Yet the battle gives occasion to the poet to describe the different personages, in smooth and poetic, -- often in pointed and well-appropriated language :--this perhaps is all that we should expect; for, as Mr. Bayes observes, a plot is of little use but to bring in good things.' We shall select the concluding lines as a specimen,

• As o'er the troubled deep when tempests rise,
And toss the deafening billows to the skies,
Old Ocean's monarch, while the tumult raves,
Lifts his calm head, and chides his angry waves i
Sudden the clamor of the deep subfides,
As Neptune ftills the hoarse resounding tides:
Thus rag'd the war, and thus the battle bled,
When M-smd rais'd his venerable head,
And hush'd the storm. M--s---d, in whom appears
New force of genius in decline of years :
Whom Law and Learning’s various arts attend,
Aftræa's favorite, and Apollo's friend.
O bleft with all that greatness can renown,
The classic laurel, and the civic crown!
Whose sacred honors ev’n in death shall bloom,

And future ages bless the sweet perfume.'
An Epistle from the Rev. William M-nto the Right Hon. Wil.

liam Pitt, Chancellor of the Exchequer; petitioning for the va. cant Laureatesbip. 4to. 6d. Dilly.

The report, whether true or false, that Mr. M lately a candidate for the laureateship, has given rise to this piece of ridicule; the author of which likewise has proved so far unsuccessful as greatly to fail in the imitation of that ingenious gentleman's style and manner. An Epiftle from John Lord Ashburton, in the Shades, to the Right

Hon. William Pitt in the Sunshine. 4to. 25. Murray. A political, doggrel, unpoetic production ; in which the author, to supply the want of wit, has been profuse of fcurrility. The Stone Coffin; or, a Nerv Way of making Love. 4to.

Cattermoul. The subject of this author's poetry seems to have a sympathetic connection with his genius ; for we never read any thing that deserves more to be buried in oblivion.


n was


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Poetical Trifles. By Edward Trap Pilgrim, Esq. Small 8vo.

Is, 6d. Debrett. These Trifes are rather calculated to amuse in a new spaper, than for a foundation on which the author's fame may fecurely reít. Some of them are light, easy, and pleafing; others trifting and infipid. Those who write on temporary subjects muit neceffarily confine their praise to the uncertain period of the follies which they celebrate or satirise. Memoirs of Sir Simeon Supple, Member for Rorborough. 8vo. 15.6d.

Kearsley. The author has acted injudiciously, by reminding us of the inimitable and unimitated New Bath Guide. Thele Memoirs resemble it; but must be arranged at a great distance from the work of Mr. Anstey : they possess few traits of humour, little knowlege of human nature, and faint sparks only of poetic fire. The two following lianzas, part of the remonstrance of a condemned oak, are the most highly finished lines.

• Hold ruthless peasant! hold thy lifted arm,

Nor let thy stroke my bleeding rind divide;
Ah! let my hory age thy pity warm !

Nor dare to pierce my venerable fide.
Thy axe has echoed through the fertile meads,

The disant vallies spread wild havock o'er ;
And morn the mountains of their fringed heads

From yon tall mantion to the winding shore.' Of the other parts, the minister's speech at the levee is by far the best ; and we Mall extract a few lines of it as a fpecimen.

“Sir Simeon Supple, I'll always contend,
For the honour to call you my intimate friend.
Dear fir, you're a pillar of rock to our party ;
I hope you left all at the Grove well and hearty.
For your welfare, believe me, my wishes are fervent,
And never can change-colonel Cutter, your servant !
This visit is kind ! my dear colonel your hand;
I'm heartily sorry - that vacant command..
'Tis strange, very strange, that the **** fhould refuse !
But we soon shall cut out a new gap in the blues,
Which none but yourself, my dear colonel, fall fill,
If my voice can prevail.How d'ye do mister Quilla
Dear fir, your last pamphlet was poignantly quaiat;
I hope you've got rid of your fomach complaint.
I believe we shall want a short essay next week
On the fall of the stocks-- dear fir Peregrine Sleek!
I proteft that I did not discern you before,
And when, my dear friend, do you make the grand tour?
I'm glad to meet here my lord viscount Mac Vanem
Your very obedient, fir Carpenter Plane !


Dear fir, you're a rule for my friends, I declare :

How long may it be since you came from the Square ?The author disclaims any personal allusion; yet we sometimes suspect that he verges towards it. But perhaps the scenes described have been so often acted, that it is not easy to repeat what may not, in some degree, be applied.

Elegies and Sonnets. 4to. 35. Cadell. Though we find not any thing peculiarly striking, or indicative of strong original genius in these poems, they are by no means liable to critical censure. The language is pure, easy, and grammatical. We think the Sonnets in general extremely elegant, and shall adduce the following on Love, in vindica. tion of our opinion.

• Ah! who can say, to him that fondly loves

How ftrangely various every hour appears ?
For roying with the wind his fancy roves,

And now in joys is loit, and now in tears ;
If chance one ray of hope his bosom chears,

Despair too soon the flattering scene removes ;
Then the severeft fnares of fate he proves,

Surmises groundless doubts, and jealous fears.
Oh sad resemblance of an April day!

Gay smiles the morn, deceitfully serene,
Yet while it fiatters, yields a dubious ray,

And clouds, and sudden darkness intervene,
Defraud the promise of approaching May,

And blast with ruthless ttorms the beauteous scene.' Verses on the Death of Dr. Samuel Johnson. 4to. Is. 6d. Dilly.

Dr. Johnson has not been very happy in his paneygyrists : nor is the present author much more successful than his predecessors. He tells us, that “a friend, whose reputation is great in the literary world, and had a better knowlege of the subject than he can pretend to, induced him, with a few additions, to lay them before the public.' His friend must surely be either insincere, or have acquired reputation very undeservedly. We found our opinion chiefly on his permitting the concluding lines of the poem to appear in their present state.

• Soon as the mind exerts a wish to stray
To learning's heights from custom's beaten '

Haste to the fun of science, wing thy flight,
Catch every glympse of ber directing light.
Then when Perfection's tedious goal is won,
And the eye opens to the mental fun,
Then if that fun her every say supplies,
Unmixt nor broken by Opinion's dies,
Then must thou own that ber informing beam,
Which nature lent in childhood dubious gleam;


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