ODE to SIMPLICITY. 1. O THOU by Nature taught, To breathe her genuine Thought, In Numbers warmly pure, and sweetly strong: In Fancy loveliest Child, Thy Babe, or Pleasure's, nurs'd the Pow'rs of Song! 2. Thou, who with Hermit Heart And Gauds, and pageant Weeds, and trailing Pall : In Attic Robe array'd, O chaste unboastful Nymph, to Thee I call! 3. By all the honey'd Store On Hybla's Thymy Shore, By all her Blooms, and mingled Murmurs dear, By Her *, whose Love-lorn Woe, In Ev'ning Musings slow Sooth'd sweetly sad Electra's Poet's Ear: By old Cephisus deep, 4. Who spread his wavy Sweep In warbled Wand'rings round thy green Retreat, *The andav, or Nightingale, for which Sophocles seems to have entertain'd a peculiar Fondness. On whose enamel'd Side When holy Freedom died No equal Haunt allur'd thy future Feet. 5. O Sister meek of Truth, To my admiring Youth, Thy sober Aid and native Charms infuse! Tho' Beauty cull'd the Wreath, Still ask thy Hand to range their order'd Hues. 6. While Rome could none esteem But Virtue's Patriot Theme, You lov'd her Hills, and led her Laureate Band: But staid to sing alone To one distinguish'd Throne, And turn'd thy Face, and fled her alter'd Land. 7. No more, in Hall or Bow'r, Love, only Love her forceless Numbers mean : Nor Olive more, nor Vine, Shall gain thy Feet to bless the servile Scene. 8. Tho' Taste, tho' Genius bless, To some divine Excess, Faints the cold Work till Thou inspire the whole ; What each, what all supply, May court, may charm, our Eye; Thou, only Thou, can'st raise the meeting Soul! 9. Of These let others ask, I only seek to find thy temp'rate Vale: To Maids and Shepherds round, And all thy Sons, O Nature, learn my Tale. ODE ON THE POETICAL CHARACTER. As once, if not with light Regard, Lo! to each other Nymph in turn applied, As if, in Air unseen, some hov'ring Hand, Some chaste and Angel-Friend to Virgin-Fame, With whisper'd Spell had burst the starting Band, It left unblest her loath'd dishonour'd Side; Happier hopeless Fair, if never Her baffled Hand with vain Endeavour Young Fancy thus, to me Divinest Name, And gaze her Visions wild, and feel unmix'd her 2. The Band, as Fairy Legends say, Was wove on that creating Day, When He, who call'd with Thought to Birth Yon tented Sky, this laughing Earth, * Florimel. See Spenser Leg. 4th. And drest with Springs, and Forests tall, And plac'd her on his Saphire Throne, And Thou, Thou rich-hair'd Youth of Morn, 3. High on some Cliff, to Heav'n up-pil'd, Its Gloomes embrown, its Springs unlock, |