Through fields of heavenly war, and feraphs overthrown, Where his adventurous genius led: Sovereign fhe fram'd a model of her own, Nor thank'd the living nor the dead. Shook off the chains, and built his verse fublime, Keeps his own air, and triumphs in unrival'd ftrains. Immortal bard! Thus thy own Raphael fings, All heaven fits filent, while to his fovereign ftrings With graces infinite his untaught fingers rove From every note devotion springs. To To MR. NICHOLAS CLARK. THE COMPLAINT. "TWAS in a vale where ofiers grow By murmuring streams we told our woe, Friendship fat pleas'd in both our eyes, The vigorous monarch of the day In dark eclipse his chariot roll'd, Nature grew fad to lose the day, Such are our forrows, Clark, I cry'd, Our darken'd fouls behind; In the young morning of our years VOL. LVI. G Lo, Lo, the gay planet rears his head, New-brightening all the skies: But fay, dear partner of my moan, In vain are potent herbs apply'd, But drugs would raise the dead as soon, Some friendly spirit from above, Born of the light, and nurst with love, Force these invading glooms away; But if the fogs must damp the flame, Our fouls fhall mount, at thy discharge, To their bright fource, and fhine at large The The AFFLICTIONS of a FRIEND. N OW let my cares all bury'd lie, My griefs for ever dumb: Your forrows fwell my heart fo high, They leave my own no room. Infinite grief puts sense to flight, So the broad gloom of spreading night Thus am I born to be unbleft! This fympathy of woe Drives my own tyrants from my breast Sorrows in long fucceffion reign; Their iron rod I feel: Friendship has only chang'd the chain, Why was this life for misery made? Is there no room amongst the dead? Or is a wretch too young? G 2 1702. Move Move fafter on, great nature's wheel, Be kind, ye rolling powers, Be dusky, all my rifing funs, Nor smile upon a slave: Darkness, and death, make haste at once To hide me in the grave. The REVERSE: Or, The COMFORTS of a FRIEND. HUS nature tun'd her mournful tongue, ΤΗ Till grace lift up her head, Revers'd the forrow and the song, Were kindred fpirits born for cares? Is there a fympathy in tears, Forbid it, heaven, and raise my love, So blifs and friendship join'd above Mix an immortal flame. Sorrows are loft in vaft delight Pleafures |