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Ρ Ο Ε Μ S
IN SIX VOLUMES.
LONDON: Printed by J. HUGHS,
An ODE to the late Duchess of Somerset.
By WILLIAM SHENSTONE, Efg;
And dew-drops catch the lucid ray;
Will aught the Muse inspire ?
That drowns the sacred lyre !
Some panting, timorous hare pursue ;
Say, does the smoothe her lawns for you?
The wretched fwain your sport survey
He finds his labour'd crops a prey;
no more in circles feed ; Haply beneath your ravage bleed, And with no random curses loads the deed.
alone ; Your bounded souls, and your conceptions crude,
The proud, the selfish boast disown:
Nor ever the defenceless train
Does the mere landscape feast your eye?