Garth's the Subject of my Song!
To Garth, our Praises all belong!
Garth, who merits all Esteem!
The Patient's Joy, the Poet's Theain:
But Oh! whose daring Pen can tell
What does our highest Praise excel,
And in a noble flowing Verse,
The Wonders of his Art rehearse?
In vain we strive, in vain press on,
To reach the dazling Height;
'Tis such a Genius as his own
Alone must do him Right;
Where Wit with brighest Lustre shines,
And Paan with Minerva joins.

Let others Phaebus Aid require
To sing their Hero's Fame,
No sacred Pow'r will I invoke,
But Dryden's awful Nime.
The wond'rous Man great Dryden knew,
Admir'd his Worth, and lov'd him too;
And in sweet Notes would still commend
The Æsculapius and the Friend.
Oh venerable Shade! my Wishes hear,
And help me sing the Man whom you esteem'd so dear.

MELKOS

The old dull whisper of the unceasing wave.
The slow sound of the unceasing wave.

Out of these shadowy hollows of the ocean
Troop the grey dreams that plague the minds of men.
Far off Hadranos hears: Enkelados
Puts forth his hands and shapes the sound to thought:
And on her lonely Mount where the sunset burns
Hybla remoulds in pale invisible flame.

I am too old to fear these Holy Ones.
Hybla Beneficent, why should one fear
The Twilight Goddess, born where the Evening star

ODE LXXVIII.

When Cupid sees how thickly now,
The snows of Time fall o'er my brow,
Upon his wing of golden light,
He passes with an eaglet's flight,
And flitting onward seems to say,
" Fare thee well, thou 'st had thy day! "

C UPID , whose lamp has lent the ray,
That lights our life's meandering way,
That God, within this bosom stealing,
Hath wakened a strange, mingled feeling,
Which pleases, though so sadly teasing,
And teases, though so sweetly pleasing!

ODE LXXVII.

Would that I were a tuneful lyre,
Of burnished ivory fair,
Which, in the Dionysian choir,
Some blooming boy should bear!

Would that I were a golden vase,
That some bright nymph might hold
My spotless frame, with blushing grace,
Herself as pure as gold!

ODE LXXVI.

Hither , gentle Muse of mine,
Come and teach thy votary old
Many a golden hymn divine,
For the nymph with vest of gold.

Pretty nymph, of tender age,
Fair thy silky locks unfold;
Listen to a hoary sage,
Sweetest maid with vest of gold!

ODE LXXV.

Spirit of Love, whose locks unrolled,
Stream on the breeze like floating gold;
Come, within a fragrant cloud
Blushing with light, thy votary shroud;
And, on those wings that sparkling play,
Waft, oh, waft me hence away!
Love! my soul is full of thee,
Alive to all thy luxury.
But she, the nymph for whom I glow,
The lovely Lesbian mocks my woe;
Smiles at the chill and hoary hues,
That time upon my forehead strews.
Alas! I fear she keeps her charms,
In store for younger, happier arms!

ODE LXXIV.

Monarch Love, resistless boy,
With whom the rosy Queen of Joy,
And nymphs, whose eyes have Heaven's hue,
Disporting tread the mountain-dew;
Propitious, oh! receive my sighs,
Which, glowing with entreaty, rise
That thou wilt whisper to the breast
Of her I love thy soft behest:
And counsel her to learn from thee,
That lesson thou hast taught to me.
Ah! if my heart no flattery tell,
Thou 'lt own I 've learned that lesson well!

ODE LXXIII.

A WHILE I bloomed, a happy flower,
Till love approached one fatal hour,
And made my tender branches feel
The wounds of his avenging steel.
Then lost I fell, like some poor willow
That falls across the wintry billow!

ODE LXXII.

Fare thee well, perfidious maid,
My soul, too long on earth delayed,
Delayed, perfidious girl, by thee,
Is on the wing for liberty.
I fly to seek a kindlier sphere,
Since thou hast ceased to love me here!