ODE TO PITY.

Thou, the friend of man affign'd, With balmy hands his wounds to bind, And charm his frantic woe:

When first Distress, with dagger keen,

Broke forth to waste his deftin'd scene,

His wild unfated foe!

By Pella's Bard, a magic name,

By all the griefs his thought could frame,

Receive my humble rite :

Long, Pity, let the nations view

Thy fky-worn robes of tendereft blue,

And eyes of dewy light!

But wherefore need I wander wide

To old Iliffus' distant side,

Deferted

Deserted stream, and mute?

Wild Arun* too has heard thy ftrains,
And Echo, 'midft my native plains,
Been footh'd by Pity's lute.

There first the wren thy myrtles fhed
On gentlest Otway's infant head,
To him thy cell was shewn ;

A

And while he fung the female heart,
With youth's foft notes unfpoil'd by art,

Thy turtles mix'd their own.

Come, Pity, come, by fancy's aid,
Ev'n now my thoughts, relenting maid,

Thy temple's pride design:

Its fouthern fite, its truth complete
Shall raise a wild enthufiaft heat,

In all who view the fhrine.

There Picture's toil fhall well relate,

How chance, or hard involving fate

A river in Suffex,

O'er

O'er mortal bliss prevail :

The bulkin'd Mufe fhall near her ftand,

And fighing prompt her tender hand,
With each difaftrous tale.

There let me oft, retir'd by day,
In dreams of paffion melt away,
Allow'd with thee to dwell:

There waste the mournful lamp of night,

Till, Virgin, thou again delight

To hear a British shell!

ODE TO FEAR.

Hou, to whom the world unknown

Twith all

With all its shadowy fhapes is fhewn Who feeft appall'd th' unreal fcene,

While Fancy lifts the veil between :

Ah Fear! ah frantic Fear!

I fee, I fee thee near.

I know thy hurried step, thy haggard eye!
Like thee I start, like thee diforder'd fly,
For, lo what monsters in thy train appear!
Danger, whofe limbs of giant mold
What mortal eye can fix'd behold?

Who ftalks his round, an hideous form,
Howling amidst the midnight ftorm,
Or throws him on the ridgy steep
Of fome loose hanging rock to fleep:
And with him thousand phantoms join'd,
Who prompt to deeds accurs'd the mind :
And thofe, the fiends, who near allied,
O'er Nature's wounds, and wrecks prefide;