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And floats the waste with waters not its own.
With scenes too sad, Salvator strives to please,
As on Avernus' banks the hero stood, Scar'd at the dreary darkness of the wood, Till through the leaves, fair shot th' auspicious light, And with the branching gold reliev'd his sight; So rescued from the horrid scene we stand, By the sweet effluence of Guido's hand. Soft to the sight his every color flows, As to the scent the fragrance of the rose. Pure beams of light around the virgin play, Clad in the brightness of celestial day; Be as they may the broils of fierce divines, Pure and unspotted here at least she shines. Vol. IV.
Thee too, Lorrain, the well-pleas'd Muse should
name, Nor e’er forget Domenichini's fame, But sudden sorrow stops the flowing line, And not one smile is found among the nine. Behold where all the charms that Heaven could give, Blended in one sweet form still seem to live ; Then sink to tears, nor stop the bursting groan, When thou art told that all those charms are gone. Relentless Death I still forcing to the grave The good, the fair, the virtuous, and the brave, Here the whole malice of his power put on, And aim'd a dart that slew them all in one. How fair, how good, how virtuous was the dame. A thousand hearts in anguish still proclaim, How brave her soul, against all fear how tried, Sad, fatal, proof she gave us when she died.
Thou, then, my friend, no farther verse demand, Full swells my breast, and trembling shakes my hand; And these sad lines, conclude my mournful lay, Since we too once must fall to death a prey, May we like Walpole meet the fatal day !
DESCRIBING A VOYAGE TO
BY SNEYD DAVIES, D.D.
From where the Stroud, smooth stream, serenely
We sail ; now steadily; now gulphs inform The tumbling waves to imitate a storm.
The rising shores a thousand charms bestow,
These lines, my C **, read, and pity too The shadowing pencil to the scene untrue : See the bright image of thy thought decay'd, And all its beauties in description fade.
Where to each other the tall banks incline,
The streight is past : the waves more strongly beat, The prospects widen, and the shores retreat, Tritons and Nereids ! how we leave behind Towns, palaces, and run with tide and wind I Here, noble Stafford, thy unfinish'd dome, And thence the long-stretch'd race of Berkeley com Till tossing, and full-feasted more than tir’d, We change the wilder scene for paths retir’d, Quit the rough element, and watery strife, As from a public to a private life,
Seek a calm coast, and up the channel ride,
The sister streams, from the same hill their source, Deriving, took, when young, a various course, And, many a city, many a country seen, High towers, and walls antique, and meadows green, Now glad to meet, nor now to part again, Go hand in hand and slide into the main.
In spite of Time, and War, and Tempest, great,
Pass but some moments, the returning sea Shall those high-stranded vessels sweep away ; That airy bridge, whence down we look'd with fear, Will low and level with the flood appear.
The crooked bank still winds to something new,