They thought all fairies filept; ah lucklefs pair!
Hid, but in vain, in the fun's noon-tide glare!
When Albion leaning on his Kenna's breaft,
Thus all the foftnefs of his foul exprefs'd.

All things are hufh'd. The fun's meridian rays • Veil the horizon in one mighty blaze ;

• Nor moon nor ftar in heav'n's blue arch is feen
• With kindly rays to filver o'er the green,
Grateful to fairy eyes; they fecret take
• Their reft, and only wretched mortals wake.
This dead of day I fly to thee alone,
A world to me, a multitude in one.

Oh fweet as dew-drops on thefe flow'ry lawns, • When the sky opens and the evening dawns!

Streight as the pink, that tow'rs fo high in air, • Soft as the blue-bell! as the daify, fair!

• Bleft be the hour, when first I was convey'd An infant captive to this blissful fhade!

And bleft the hand that did my form refine, • And shrunk my ftature to a match with thine! • Glad I for thee renounce my royal birth,

And all the giant-daughters of the earth. Thou, if thy breaft with equal ardour burn, Renounce thy kind, and love for love return. • So from us two, combin'd by nuptial ties,

A race unknown of demi-gods shall rife.

• Oh speak, my love! my vows with vows repay, And fweetly fwear my rifing fears away!'

To whom (the fhining azure of her

eyes

More brighten'd) thus th' enamour'd maid replies,
By all the stars, and first the glorious moon,

I fwear, and by the head of Oberon,

A dreadful oath no prince of fairy line

• Shall e'er in wedlock plight his vows with mine.
'Where'er my footsteps in the dance are seen,

May toadstools rife, and mildews blast the green !
May the keen eaft-wind blight my fav'rite flowers,
And fnakes and spotted adders haunt my bowers!
⚫ Confin'd whole ages in an hemlock fhade,
There rather pine I a neglected maid;

Or worse, exil'd from Cynthia's gentle rays,
• Parch in the fun a thousand fummer-days,
⚫ Than any prince, a prince of fairy line,

* In facred wedlock plight his vows with mine.'

She ended and with lips of rofy hue

:

Dipt five times over in ambrofial dew,

Stifled his words. When, from his covert rear'd,
The frowning brow of Oberon appear'd.

A fun-flower's trunk was near, whence (killing fight!)
The monarch iffu'd, half an ell in height:

Full on the pair a furious look he caft,

Nor spoke, but gave his bugle horn a blast,
That through the woodland echo'd far and wide,
And drew a fwarm of fubjects to his fide.
A hundred chofen knights, in war renown'd,
Drive Albion banish'd from the facred ground;

And

And twice ten myriads guard the bright abodes,
Where the proud king, among his demi-gods,
For Kenna's fudden bridal bids prepare,
And to Azuriel gives the weeping fair.

If fame in arms, with ancient birth combin❜d,
And faultlefs beauty, and a spotless mind,
To love and praise can generous fouls incline,
That love, Azuriel, and that praise were thine.
Blood, only less than royal, fill'd thy veins,
Proud was thy roof, and large thy fair domains.
Where now the fkies high Holland-house invades,
And fhort-liv'd Warwick fadden'd all the fhades,
Thy dwelling food; nor did in him afford

d

A nobler owner, or a lovelier lord.

For thee an hundred fields produc'd their store,
And by thy name ten thousand vassals swore

So lov'd thy name, that, at their monarch's choice,
All Fairy fhouted with a gen'ral voice.

Qriel alone a fecret rage fupprefs'd

That from his bofom heav'd the golden veft.
Along the banks of Thame his empire ran,

Wide was his range, and populous his clan.
When cleanly fervants, if we truft old tales,
Befdes their wages, had good fairy vails,

The Earl of Warwick, fon-in-law to Mr. Addifon. He died in

bis 24th year, on the 16 of August 1721.

Whole

Whole heaps of filver tokens, nightly paid
The careful wife, or the neat dairy-maid,

Sunk not his stores. With fmiles and powerful bribes
He gain'd the leaders of his neighbour tribes,
And ere the night the face of heav'n had chang'd,
Beneath his banners half the fairies rang'd.

Mean-while driv'n back to earth, a lonely way

The cheerlefs Albion wander'd half the day,

A long, long journey, choak'd with brakes and thorns,
Ill-meafur'd by ten thoufand barley-corns..

Tir'd out at length, a fpreading ftream he spy'd 20
Fed by old Thame, a daughter of the tide :

'Twas then a fpreading ftream, though now, its fame
Obfcur'd, it bears the creek's inglorious name,
And creeps, as through contracted bounds it trays,
A leap for boys in these degenerate days.

On the clear crystal's verdant bank he flood,
And thrice look'd backward on the fatal wood,
And thrice he groan'd, and thrice he beat his breaft,
And thus in tears his kindred gods address'd.

• If true, ye watry powers, my lineage came
From Neptune mingling with a mortal dame;
* Down to his court, with coral garlands crown'd,
• Through all your grottoes waft my plaintive found,
• And urge the god, whose trident shakes the earth,
• To grace his off-fpring, and affert my birth.'

He faid. A gentle Naiad heard his prayer, And, touch'd with pity for a lover's care,

Shoots

Shoots to the fea, where low beneath the tides
Old Neptune in th' unfathom'd depth refides.
Rous'd at the news the fea's ftern fultan fwore
Revenge, and scarce from present arms forbore;
But firft the nymph his harbinger he fends,
And to her care his fav'rite boy commends.

As through the Thames her backward courfe fhe guides,
Driven up
his current by the refluent tides,
Along his banks the pigmy legions spread

She fpies, and haughty Oriel at their head.
Soon with wrong'd Albion's name the hoft she fires,
And counts the ocean's god among his fires;
The ocean's god, by whom fhall be o'erthrown
(Styx heard his oath) the tyrant Oberon.
• See here beneath a toadstool's deadly gloom
Lies Albion: Him the Fates your leader doom.
Hear and obey; 'tis Neptune's powerful call,
• By him Azuriel and his king shall fall.*

She faid. They bow'd: and on their fhield up-bore With fhouts their new-faluted emperor.

Even Oriel fmil'd at leaft to fmile he ftrove,
And hopes of vengeance triumph'd over love.
See now the mourner of the lonely shade
By gods protected, and by hofts obey'd,
A flave, a chief, by fickle Fortune's play,
In the fhort courfe of one revolving day.
What wonder if the youth, fo ftrangely bleft,
Felt his heart flutter in his little breaft!