Why should I mention many a fabled fount
By bards recorded, or hiftorians old;
Whether they water'd Afia's fertile plains
With foft* Callirrhoë; or to letter'd Greece
Or warlike Latium lent their kindly aid?
Nor ye of modern fame, whofe rills defcend
From Alps and Appennines, or grateful lave
Germania's harafs'd realms, expect my verse
Should chaunt your praife, and dwell on foreign themes;
When chief o'er Albion have the healing powers
Shed wide their influence: from a thoufand rocks
Health gushes, thro' a thousand vales it flows
Spontaneous. Scarce can luxury produce
More pale diseases than her ftreams relieve.
Witnefs, Avonia, the unnumber'd tongues
Which hail thy + filler's name! on the fame banks
Your fountains rife, to the fame ftream they flow.
See in what myriads to her watry shrine
The various votaries prefs! they drink, they live!
Not more exulting crowds in the full height
Of Roman luxury proud Baie knew ;
Ere Mufa's fatal fkill, fatal to Rome,
*With foft Callirrbo.] A fountain in Judea beyond Jordan, which empties itself into the lake Afphaltes. Its waters were not only medicinal, but remarkably foft and agreeable to the tafte. Herod the Great made ufe of them in his laft dreadful diftemper. Jofephus, 1. xvii. c. 8.
Mufa's fatal fk..] Antonius Mufa, phyfician to Auguftus Cæfar, was the first who brought cold bathing into great repute at
Defam'd the tepid wave. Nor round thy fhades,
Clitumnus, more recording trophies hang.
O for a Shakespear's pencil, while I trace
In Nature's breathing paint, the dreary wafte
Of Buxton, dropping with inceffant rains
Cold and ungenial; or its fweet reverse
Enchanting Matlock, from whofe rocks like thine
Romantic foliage hangs, and rills defcend,
And echoes mu mur. Derwent, as he pours
Ilis oft obftructed stream down rough cascades
And broken precipices, views with awe,
With rapture, the fair scene his waters form,
Nor yet has Nature to one spot confin'd
Her frugal bleffings. Many a different fite
Rome. But the fame prefcription which had faved Auguftus, unhappily killed Marcellus. Horace describes the inhabitants of Baïæ as very uneafy at this new method of proceeding in phyfic:
"Mufa fupervacuas Antonius, et tamen illis
"Me facit invifum gel.dâ dum perluor undà
"Per medium frigus. Sanè myrteta relinqui
"Dictaque ceffantem nervis elidere morbum
"Sulfura contemni Vicus gemit; invidus ægris
"Qui caput aut ftomachum fupponere fontibus audent," &c.
- Round thy fades,
]
See a beautiful defcription of the fource of this river in Pliny's Epiftles, Ep. 8. Book viii, where he mentions it as a custom for perfons to leave infcriptions, &c. as teftimonies of their being cured there; fomething in the manner of the crutches at bath.
And different air, to fuit man's varying frame
The fame relief extends. Thus Cheltenham finks
Rural and calm amid the flowery vale,
Pleas'd with its paftoral scenes; while Scarbro' lifts
Its towering fummits to th' afpiring clouds,
And fees th' unbounded ocean roll beneath.
Avonia frowns! and juftly may'ft thou frown O Goddefs, on the bard, th' injurious bard, Who leaves thy pictur'd fcenes, and idly roves For foreign beauty to adorn his fong.
Thine is all beauty; every fite is thine.
Thine the sweet vale, and verdure-crowned mead
Slow rifing from the plain, which Cheltenham boasts.
Thine Scarbro's clifts; and thine the ruffet heaths
Of fandy Tunbridge; o'er thy fpacious downs
Stray wide the nibbling flocks; the hunter train
May range thy forefts; and the muse-led youth,
Who loves the devious walk, and fimple scene,
May in thy Kingfwood view the scatter'd cots
And the green wilds of Dulwich. Does the fun,
Does the free air delight? lo! Clifton stands
Courted by every breeze; and evey fun
There sheds a kinder ray; whether he rides
In fouthern fkies fublime, or mildly pours
O'er Bristol's red'ning towers his orient beam,
Or gilds at eve the fhrub-clad rocks of Ley.
Beneath thy mountains open to the fouth
Pale Sickness fits, and drinks th' enlivening day;
Nor fears th' innumerable pangs which pierce
In keener anguish from the north, or load
The dufky pinions of the peevish eaft.
Secure the fits, and from thy facred urn
Implores, and finds relief.
Refume their wonted tone,
And every feafon patient.
The flacken'd nerves of every wind
Jocund Health
Blooms on the cheek; and careless Youth returns (As fortune wills) to pleasure or to toil.
Yet think not, Goddefs, that the Mufe afcribes
To thee unfailing ftrength, of force to wrest
Th' uplifted bolts of fate; to Jove alone
Belongs that high pre-eminence. Full oft,
This feeling heart can witnefs, have I heard
Along thy fhore the piercing cries refound
Of widows and of orphans. Oft beheld
The folemn funeral pomp, and decent rites,
Which human vanity receives and pays
When dust returns to duft. Where Nature fails,
There too thy power must fail; or only lend
A momentary aid to foften pain,
And from the King of terrors steal his frown.
Nor yet for waters only art thou fam'd,
Avonia; deep within thy cavern'd rocks
Do diamonds lurk, which mimick thofe of Ind.
Some to the curious fearcher's eye betray
Their varying hues amid the moffy clefts
Faint glimmering; others in the folid itone
Lie quite obfcur'd, and wait the patient hand
Of art, or quick explosion's fiercer breath,
To wake their latent glories into day.
With these the British fair, ere traffic's power
Had made the wealth of other worlds our own,
Would deck their auburn treffes, or confine
The fnowy roundness of their polish'd arm.
With these the little tyrants of the isle,
Monarchs of counties, or of clay-built towns
Sole potentates, would bind their haughty brows,
And awe the gazing croud. Say, Goddess, say,
Shall, ftudious of thy praife, the Mufe declare
When first their lustre rose, and what kind power
Unveil'd their hidden charms? The Mufe alone
Can call back time, and from oblivion fave
The once-known tale, of which tradition's felf
Has loft the fainteft memory. 'Twas ere
The titles proud of Knight or Baron bold
Were known in Albion; long ere Cæfar's arms
Had tried its prowefs, and been taught to yield.
Weftward a mile from yon afpiring fhrubs
Which front thy hallow'd fount, and shagg with thorns
The adverse side of Avon, dwelt a swain.
One only daughter blefs'd his nuptial bed.
Fair was the maid; but wherefore faid I fair?
For many a maid is fair, but Leya's form
Was Beauty's felf, where each united charm
Ennobled each, and added grace to all.
Yet cold as mountain fnows her tim'rous heart
Rejects the voice of love. In vain the fire
With prayers, with mingled tears, demanded oft
VOL. LXXII.
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