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TO

MR. GRAY, UPON HIS ODES.

BY DAVID GARRICK, ESQ. [55] REPINE not, Gray, that our weak dazzled eyes

Thy daring heights and brightness shun;
How few can trace the eagle to the skies,

Or, like him, gaze upon the sun !
Each gentle reader loves the gentle Muse,

That little dares, and little means;
Who humbly sips her learning from Reviews,

Or flutters in the Magazines.
No longer now from Learning's sacred store

Our minds their health and vigour draw;
Homer and Pindar are rever'd no more,

No more the Stagyrite is law.
Tho' nurst by these, in vain thy Muse appears

To breathe her ardours in our souls;
In vain to sightless eyes and deaden'd ears,

The lightning gleams, the thunder rolls :

[55] From the original MS. in the possession of ISAAC REED, Esq.

Yet droop not, Gray, nor quit thy heaven-born art,

Again thy wond'rous powers reveal ;
Wake shumb’ring Virtue in the Briton's heart,

And rouse us to reflect and feel!

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With ancient deeds our long-chillid bosoms fire,

Those deeds that mark Eliza's reign!
Make Britons Greeks again, then strike the lyre,

And Pindar shall not sing in vain.

ODE TO MR. GRAY,

ON

THE BACKWARDNESS OF SPRING.

BY THE LATE MR. RICHARD WEST.

DEAR Gray, that always in my heart
Possessest far the better part,
What mean these sudden blasts that rise
And drive the Zephyrs from the skies?
O join with mine thy tuneful lay,
And invocate the tardy May.
Come, fairest Nymph, resume thy reign !
Bring all the Graces in thy train:
With balmy breath and flowery tread,
Rise from thy soft ambrosial bed;
Where, in elysian slumber bound,
Embow'ring myrtles veil thee round.

Awake, in all thy glories drest,
Recal the Zephyrs from the west;
Restore the sun, revive the skies,
At mine, and Nature's call, arise !

Great Nature's self upbraids thy stay, And misses her accustom’d May.

See! all her works demand thy aid;
The labours of Pomona fade :
A plaint is heard from ev'ry tree;
Each budding flow'ret calls for thee;
The birds forget to love and sing ;
With storms alone the forests ring.

Come then, with Pleasure at thy side,
Diffuse thy vernal spirit wide;
Create, where'er thou turn'st thine eye,
Peace, Plenty, Love, and Harmony;
Till ev'ry being share its part,
And Heav'n and Earth be glad at heart.

ODE

ON

THE DEATH OF MR. GRAY.

Me quoque Musarum studium sub nocte silenti Artibus assuetis solicitare solet.

CLAUDIAN.

ENOUGH of fabling, and th’unhallow'd haunts
Of Dian' and of Delia, names profane,
Since not Diana nor all Delia's train
Are subjects that befit a serious song;
For who the bards among
May but compare with thee, lamented Gray!
Whose pensive solemn lay
Drew all the list’ning shepherds in a ring,
Well pleas’d to hear thee sing
Thy moving notes, on sunny hill or plain,
And catch new grace from thy immortal strain,
O wood-hung Menaï, and ye

sacred groves
Of Delphi, we still venerate your names,
Whose awful shades inspir'd the Driud's dreams.
Your recess, tho' imagin'd, Fancy loves,

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