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Nor pack'd Committees break his reft,
Nor avarice sends him forth in quest

Of climes beneath the sun.
Short is our span; then why engage
In schemes for which man's transient age

Was ne'er by Fate design d ?
Why Night the gifts of Nature's hand ?
What wanderer from bis native land

E'er left himself behind ?
The restless thought and wayward will,
And discontent attend him still,

Nor quit him while he lives;
Ac sea, care follows in the wind;
Ar land, it mounts the pad behind,

Or with the post-boy drives.
He who would happy live to-day,
Muit laugh the present ills away,

Nor think of woes to come ;
For come they will, or soon or late,
Since mix'd at best is man's estate,

By Heav'n's eternal doom.
To ripen'd age Clive liv'd renown'd,
With lacks enrich’d, with honours crown'd,

His valour's well-earn'd meed.
Too long, alas ! he liv'd to hate
His envied lot, and died too late,

From life's oppression freed.
An early death was Elliott's doom ;
I saw his opening virtues bloom,

And manly sense unfold,
Too soon to fade. I bade the stone
Record his name, 'midlt * Hordes unknown,

Unknowing what it told.
To thee, perhaps, the Fates may give,
I wish they may, in health to live,

Herds, flocks, and fruitful fields;
Thy vacant hours in mirth to thine ;
With these, the muse already thine,

Her present bounties yields.
For me, O Shore, I only claim,
To merit, not to seek for fame,

The good and just to please ;
A state above the fear of want,
Domestic love, heaven's choicest grant,

Health, leisure, peace and ease.

Touch'd by thy genial strains, the bosom glows.
Now similes illume, now trickling tears diftain :
This soothes to reft, that plants the thorny pain!
Here scenes of bliss, there rise unnumber'd

woes!
Fair fav’rite of the Nive! those paths pursue,
Which lead to Virtue's, Learniag's brigh-

abode.
Thy modeft merit, unassuming claim,
Not Envy's canc'rous tooth Mall dare corrode.
Still copy life : So Thall the portrait true,
Its skilful artist crown with deathless Fame,

S. A
SONNET on leaving
AREWELL, bless'd seat of all my yonth-

ful hours !
No more, alas ! I feel that calm delight,
Which erst my willing footsteps did invite
Thy winding Atreams to trace, and woodland

bow'rs.
For me no more shall joy thy shades illume,
Peace, chearful Peace ! within thy vales ap-

pear.
For ah ! this tortur'd bosom, wrung with care,
Content's smooth image strives in vain t'assume.
Yet cho' far distant from thy rural plains,
Where oft I've mark'd th' approxh of penfise

eve,
When thy lov'd haunts fore'er, perhaps I leave,
Thy haunts endear'd by Philomel's sweet itrains;
Still Thall remembrance each known path

pursue,
And liveliest Fancy stamp the prospect true.

S, A.

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SONNET, addressed to Miss SEWARD.

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but foul , 'Mid the loose pleasures of a glittering ring, That artful, undermining fin, Be thine, sweet longstress of the groves, to sing Hypocrisy, usurps the cell The chaster transports of the humbler bower. Where plain Sincerity should dwell!

* Mr. Elliott, (the brother of Sir Gilbert Elliott) died in October 1778, in his way to Nanpore, the capital of Moodgee Boofla's dominions, being deputed on an Prince by the Governor General and Council. A monument was erected to his memory on the spot where he was buried; and the Mahrattas have fince built a town there, which is called Elliott's Gunge, or Elliott's Town.

embally to that

O, ever

That bade each sorrow from my soul remove, Banih'd despair, and gave me peace and love.

Let each fond nymph and rustic swain

Proclaim Amintor's faith and truth ; Echo, each grove, and verdant plain,

The praises of the godlike youth !

Amintor, emblem of the Spring,

Diffuses blessings all arouod ; No jealous pangs his bosom fting, No worthless deeds his conscience

wound,

O, ever dearest Maid! heware The artful man who speaks you fair ! 'Twas tongue of Guile, and heart of Gall, Insur'd the first weak female's fall: That Viper, base Ingratitude, Dxh oft (alas ! too oft) intrude Into the Paradise decreed For mem'ry of a “ Friend in need." How happy, lovely Anna, you, To whom praise unalloy'd is due. Your heart, most justly, charming Fair, We to the BEE-HIVE may compare, Virtue its QUEEN, sole empress there! So sweetly have I known it fill's, The honey from the lips diftilld. Of those small cells within the heart, Where ev'ry virtue reigns apart, It has by all been long confeft, Friendship’s is larger than the rest ; Or io expands, that numbers may Unenvied hold united sway; While in the monarch Cupid's cell One favour'd guest alone can dwell. Since I, fair Anna, dare not aim To kindle in your heart Love's flame, Haply I may, without offence, To Friendslip's part make some pretence. O let me ever then remain Where Friendship holds her social reign; 'Till (the long years of absence v'er) “ Safe anchor'd on my native shore,'' Your sparkling eye and lips unfold, In language to be felt, not told, Nor time nor absence could impair The traces of my image there. En Artois, June 16, 1786.

G. W.

Like Summer's heat his friendship glows,

Exempt from ev'ry fordid view; By him the wretched find repose,

And future blissful scenes pursue,

His gen'rous and expanded mind,

The sweet abode of heart-felt peace, Like Autumn crowns the lah'ring hind,

And gives to industry increase,

When stealing Winter vents his rage,

Each earthly prospect to destroy, O bless kind Heav'n! Amintor's age

With gleams of never-fading joy !

M

THE chiding Winter now resigns his reign,

And verdant Spring diffuses joy and

peace ! A thousand varied colours deck the plain, And nature's bloom bids warring pallions

ceale: The airy chori ters in wanton ringlets move, And grove, and mead, resounds with artless

tales of love!
In this soft season let me stray,

Far from the lawless feats of strife, \Vhere Peace and Virtue lead the way; Where Truth emits her chearing ray,

And innocence gives joy to life!
On some enamel'd bank reclin'd,

Where varied scenes ecch sense delight,
Oft let me feast my wand'ring mind,
And that sweet confolation find,

Which tells me ALL IS RIGHT.
But chief with gratitude my soul be fraught,
To Heaven be ev'ry ardent pray'r addrest,
To crown with joys, surpalling human

thought, The band--the kindly hand, which made

me bleft,

TW 1 L I G H T.
By Mifs HELEX WILLIAMS.
EEK Twilight! (often the declining

day, And bring the hour my pensive spirit loves, When o'er the mountain flow defcends the

ray That gives to filence the deserted groves. Ah, let the happy court the morning fill,

When in her blooming loveliness array'd, She bids fresh beauty light the vale or hill,

And rapture warble in the tuneful shade. Sweet is the odour of the morning's flow'r,

And rich in melody her accents rise ; But welcome is to me the lofter hour At which her blossoms close--her musick

dies. For then, while Nature drops her weary

head, She wakes the tear its luxury to shed.

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weal;

And, to avoid the critics quarrel,

And spurn'd the minstrel-Slaves of eastern A sprig or two of Virgil's laurel.

fway, Your ground thus laid, your trees thus plac'd, From tremb ing Thebes extorting conscious Sweeten'd with flowers to your taste,

1) ame : Your Mepherd take, and, as is wont, But o'er the d idem, by freedom's flame Baptize him at the poet's font,

Illum'd, the banner of renown unfurl's : Adorn him with firip, crook, and reed, Thus to his Hiero decreed, And lay him by for farther need.

'Mongst the bold chieftains of the Pythian Then take a damsel neat and fair,

game, And in a fillet bind her hair.

The brightest verdure of Castalia's bay ; Give her a Aock of tender Meep,

And gave an ampler meed And keep her by you—She will keep. Of Pisan palms, than in the field of fame

Were wont to crown the car's victorious EPIGRAM.

speed; By the SAME.

And hail'd his scepter'd Champion's patriot

zeal, Mr. PINGO, by direction of Mr Garrick, Who mix'd the monarch's with the people's engraved a medal, on one side of which was the Manager's head ; on the reverse, three

From civil plans who claim'd applavie, by ures, that resembled plague, peftilence, And train d'obedient realms to Spartan au famine, more than what they were in:

laws. teoded to represent, namely, she three Gracesa

III. with this modest inscription,

And he, sweet master of the Doric oal, “ He has united all your powers.' Theocritus, forlook awhile

The graces of his pastoral ifle ; This being, hy a Gentleman to whom Mr.

The lowing vale, the bleating cote, Garrick had presenteri it, Mewn to Mr. Hen

The clusters on the sunny steep, derfon, he repeated the follow ing lines :

And Pan's own umbrage, dark and deep, THREE [qualid hago ivhen Pingo form', The caverns hung with ivy-twine, And christend them the Graies;

The cliffs that wav'd with oak and pines Garrick, with Shakespear's magic warm d, And Etna's foar romantic pile; Recogniz'd soon their faces.

And caught the bold Homeric note, He knew them for the finers weird,

In stately sounds exalting high Whose art bedimm'd the noon-tide hour,

The reign of bounteous Ptolemy: And from his lips this line was heard,

Like the plenty-teeming tide I bave united all your power."

of his own Nile's redundant food,

O'er the cheer'd nations, far and wide, So Garrick, critics all agree,

Diffusing opulence and public good: The Graces help'd chee to no riches,

While, in the rich-warbled lays And Pingo thus to flatter thee,

Was blended Berenice's name, Has made his Graces witches.

Pattern fair of female fame;

Softening with domestic life o D E

Imperial splendour's dazzling rays, For his Majesty's Birth-day, written by Mr. The queen, the mother, and the wife! WARTON, and set to music by the late

IV. Mr. STANLEY.

To deck with honour due this festal day, 1.

O, for a strain from these sublimer bards!
W
HEN Freedom nuro'd her native fire

Who free to grant, yet fearless to refuse
In ancient Greece, and ruld the

Their awful fuffrage, with impartial aim
lyre;

Invok'd the jealous panegyric Mule ; Her hards, disdainful, from the tyrant's brow

Ner, but to genuine worth's feverer claim The tinsel gifts of fartery tore; But paid to guiltless power their willing Stern arbiters of glory's bright awards!

Their proud distinction deiga'd to pay,

For peerless bards like these alone, And to the throne of virtuous kings,

The bards of Greece, might beft adorn, Tempering the tone of their vindictive ftrings, With seemly long, the Monarch's natal From Truth's unproftituted flore

morn; The fragrant wreath of gratulation hore.

Who, throu'd in the magnificence of peace, II.

Rivals their richest regal theme; 'Twas thus Alceus (mote the manly chord; Who rules a people, like their owu, And Pindar on the Persian lord

In arms, in polith'd arts (upreme; Ihs notes of indignation hurlid,

Who bids his Britain vie with Greece.

VOW:

THE A TRICAL JOURN A L.

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OCCASIONED BY THE

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CHE following Prologue, mentioned in Who molt shall praise him, all are Nill at our Magazine for March lait (see p. 207),

strife : we could not before obtain a copy of : Expiring virtue leaves a void in life.

A void our scene has felt :- with ShakPROLOGUE,

speare's page Who now like him shall animate the Stage ?

Hamlet, Macbeth, and Bencdick, and Lear, DE ATH of Mr. HENDERSON,

Richard, and Wolsey, pleas'd cach learned Spoken by Mrs. SIDDONS, Ac Covent-Garden, Feb. 25, 1786. If feigning well be our consummate art,

How great his praise, who in lago's part Written by ARTHUR MURPHY, Esq.

Could utter thoughis so foreign to his E RE fiction try this night her magic

heart? Atrain,

Fallaff, who thook this house with mirthful And blend mysteriously delight with pain;

roar, Ere yet she wake her train of hopes and fears Is now no counterfeit :--He'll rise no more! For Jalier's wrongs and Belvidera's tears, 'Twas Henderson's the drama to pervade, Will you permit a true, a recent grief Each passion touch, and give each nicer shade. To vent its charge, and seek that sad relief? When o'er these boards the Roman Father How shall we feel the tale of feign'd di- passid Atress,

But I forbear- that effort was his laft. While on the heart our own af!lictions press? The Muse there faw bis zcal, tho' rack'd with When our own friend, when Henderson ex

pain, pires,

While ihe now fever ambush'd in cach vein. And from the tomb one parting pang re- She sought the bed, where pale and wan he quires !

lay, In yonder Abbey shall he relt his head,

And vainly try'd to chase disease away; And on this spot no virtuous drop be lhed ? Watch'd ev'ry look, and number'd ev'ry sigh, You will indulge vur griet:--Those And gently, as he liv'd, she saw him die. crowded rows

Wild with her gricfs, the join'd the mourShew you have hearts that feel domestic woes; ful throng, Hearts that with gen'rous emulation burn, With fullen found as the hearse mov'd along : To raise the widow drooping o'er his urn; Through the dim vaulted ailes she led the And to his child, when Reaton's op'ning ray

way, Shall tell her whom she lott, ihis truth convey: And gave to genius past his kindred clay; Her father's worth made cacia good man bis Heard the last requiem o'er his relics cold, friend,

And with her tears bedew'd the hallow'd Honour'd thro' life, regretied in his end !

mould. And for his relacives to help his flore

In faithbulversc, ihere near the lonely cell, An audience gave, when he cou'd give no The fair recording epitaph may tell,

That he who now lies mould'ring into dust, Him we. all mourn ; his friends fill Was good, was upright, generous, and just; heave the figi,

By talents form'd to grace the Poet's lays ; And fill the fear Itands trembling in the By virtue form’d to dignify his days. eye.

June 9, The Haymarket Theatre opened
His was each mild, each amiable art, with the following
The gentleit manners and the feeling heart ;

PROLOGUE,
Fair sinple cruth; benevolence; to all
A gen'rous warmth, that glow'd ai Friend- Written by Mr. COLMAN,

ship's calli
A judgment fure, while learning toil'd be-

Spoken by Mr. BENSL E Y. His mirth was wit; his humour, sense refin'd; LE SAGE, of life and manners no mean A soul above all guile, all mener views;

teacher, The friend of Science; friend of ev'ry Muse! Draws an Archbishop,once a famous preacher; Oft have I known him in my vernal year- Till apoplex'd at lait, his congregation This no faign'd grief. no artificial icar! Smelt apoplexy in each dull oration. Ost in this breali he wak'd ibe Muses' flame, Our Chief, alas, since here we parted laft, Fond to advise, and point my way to fame. Has many a heavy hour of anguish past;

more,

AND

hind;

* Mrs. Siddons, to do honour to the memory of her deceased friend, obtained the confent of the Managers of Drury Lane, and perforined the part of Belvidcra ; but thai charaeter requiring great exertion, and the Piologue being unusually long, several lines heic printed nerc omitted on the above vight.

EVRO? NAC.

Nna

once wcrc

Meanwhile by Malice it was said and written gentleman made an effort in the histrionie His mind and body both at

art with the company of gentlemen who exsmitten *;

hibited in the play of Dr. Stratford at Druryo Yetnow return'd in promising condition, Lanc, in 1784. Alive, in very spite of his phifician,

After the play, a new farce, in two sets, Again with rapture hails the generous town, called the Widow's Vow, was performed for Sure that misfortune never meets their frown! the first time. It is a translation from the

Fam'd Pasquin, his applauded predecessor, French by Mrs. Inchbald, and does credit 'Gainst wit and humour dever a transgrellor, lo her pon. She has fuftened down the ex. Still cheer'd your vacant hour with jelt and travagance of the French intrigue, and has whim,

adapted it to the Englith audience. The When hapless Chance depriv'd him of a timb; stary is briefly this A young and beau. But you, who long enjoy'd the trec's full tiful widow has forswon the male sex shade,

young Marquis, whole sister, the Countefs Cherish'd the pollard, and were well repaid ; Labella, lives next door to be widow, bri. Shall then his follower less your favour hare, ing fallea desperately in love with her, his Or, rais’d by former kindness, now despair filter contrives to procure his introduction by No! from your smiles deriving all his light, making the widow believe that it is tbe Thọsc genial beams fhal make his flame Countess herself in disguise. The Marquis more bright.

is supposed by the whole fanily to be a woo Warm gratitude for all your kindness part man, and he is treated by the widow with Shall soothe Disease, and thaim Affliction's cxtreme freedom, and by her uncle with blaft.

such pointed allusions as to incense him, and By Reason's twilight we may go astray, he is forced to correct his insolence. In his But honest Nature sacds a purer say ; cquivocal character, however, the Widow While, more by Feeling than cold Caution led, pledges herselt to marry him, and the fiftes The heart corrects the crrors of the head. arrives critically to explain the supposed

Cheer'd by these hopcs, he banishes all feat, metamorphosis. And trusts, at least, you'll find no pally here. This farce has confiderable humour, and The Play was The Maid of the Mill, in which

we have seldom seen a trifle more ably exsMr. Matthews, from Bath, made his fult cuted. Mrs. Wells was admirable in the appearance in Giles. He is intended to suponiller, jun. gave a very plausible aspect, by the

display of arch fimplicity ; and Mr. Banply

the place of Mr. Bannister, senior ; but possesses only in a low degree the talents clegance of his dress and caly manners, to (small as they were; of his predecessor. His the supposed change of fex. Mr. Edwin voice is not a bad one ; but he exhibits and Mrs. Bata were also very happy in their scarce any other rcquisite for the Aage.

performance.

The Prologue was well in the writing : 20. The play of Fare Shore was performed ba it was till better in the delivery. It for the purpose of bringing forward a Mr. was written by Mr. Holcroft, and excellenty Horne, in the chara&ter of Haftings. This spoken by Mr. Bannister.

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THE POLITICAL STATE of the NATION and of EUROPE, for JUNE 1786.

No. XXVIIL

THIS of the semion, will prove a very ex-
HIS month, which may be called the be belowed on them as a mere benevolence

or charitable donation, in consideration of pensive mooth to the nation. The money, their sufferings on account of Grear-Britain. votes which pass day by day in clusters would This language might have fuited Britain frighten any nation but the English, who once ; but now, encumbered and heary ladea fecm to be inured to the yoke of taxation, as she is with an enormous and unparalleled without measure and without end. It is all debt, under which her sons reel and flagger one to them whether a million be voted, or like drunken men, rcady to sink under incic a single thousand; or whether that vole is insupportable burden, it is wild, romantic, palled by forty Members, or four hundred; and absurd, to talk of charitable donations in iherefore thin houses in the summer make the amount of millions, the numbur undethe Minister's hay-time and harvest.

fined and unknown. America bas cost this Ainong the many items of national expen- nation very dear first and lal-in pcopling diture, the sum demanded for the American it, and promoting its cultivation-in proclaims is not the least perplexing and morti- tecting it and fighting for it!- in fighting fying to the true friends of this country! and againlt it to subdue rebellion, and restore it yet their most fanguine patrons admit that to its station in the British empire!--ia ihey have no claim upon us at all ; that is, to making peace with it, ceding our lands with.

* Alluding to a paragraph in the Public Advertiser of November 4, 1-85. This couplet, omitted at thc Thcatre, is here rellorcd, in order to prevent any inilapplication of the next line but one.

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