With haft runs over every different rooms won I In pain to fee. the whole, Thrice happy meeting&A Nor time, nor death, fhall ever part them more, 10 'Tis but a night, a long and moonless night; as 167 We make the Grave our bed, and then are gone.Ɔ

Thus at the shut of ev'n, the weary bird 40 Leaves the wide air, and in fome lonely brake Cow'rs down, and dozes till the dawn of day, Then claps his well-fledg'd wings, and bears away,

กล

vedio A MONODY TO THE MEMORY OF LADY LYTTELTON.

T

From ev'ry duty, ev'ry care,
That in my mournful thoughts might claim a fhare,
Or force my tears their flowing stream to dry,
Beneath the gloom of this embow'ring fhade,
This lone retreat for tender forrow made;

діт

T

I now may give my burden'd heart relief led W
And pour forth all my ftores of grief;59) os meq ol
Of grief furpalling ev'ry other woe, and sold
Far as the purent blifs, the happiest love
Can on the ennobled mind bestow,
Exceeds the vulgar joys that move

Our grofs defires inelegant and low ar is indT

esb to aweb and II.Chob bas „nwab er wol

Ye tufted grovesi ye gently falling rills 1

aw 24h Aube vin acquio mit

Ye high o'erfhadowing hills!

Ye lawns! gay-fmiling with eternal green,
Lucy feen!

Oft have you my

But never shall you now behold her more,
Nor will the now with fond delight,

And tafte refin'd, your rural charms explore:
Clos'd are those beauteous eyes in endless night:
Those beauteous eyes where beaming us'd to fhine
Reafon's pure light and Virtue's spark divine.

III.

Oft would the Dryads of thefe woods rejoice,
To hear her heavenly voice;

For her

er deifing, when she deign'd to fing, The fweeteft fongfters of the fpring,

The woodlark and the linnet pleas'd no more,

The nightingale was
Sam was mute,

And ev'ry thepherd's flute

Was caftan filent febrn aways asitio to qmoq saT While all attended to her sweeter lay.d fɔom vil Ye larks and linnets! now refutie your fong, y oT And thou, melodious Philomellendris rewof bпA Again thy plaintive story telly paidmana na mord For death has stopt that tuneful tongue resum diiW Whofe mufic could alone your warbling notes excel

In vain I look around our gamað y
O'er all the
e well-known ground,

My Lucy's wonted footsteps to defery. face sȚ

Where oft we us'd to walk,

Where oft in tender talk

We faw the fummer's fun go down the sky;

Nor by yon fountain's fide,

Nor where its waters glide

Along the valley can the now be found.

In all the wide-ftretch'd profpect's ample bound A

No more my mournful eye

Can aught of her espy,

But the fad facred earth where her dear relies lie.

at 179167 barlɔierw O V. Venuh usry casw T O fhades of Hagley where is now your boast toH Your bright inhabitant is loft, wo quger-h br A You fhe preferr'd to all the gay reforts ons motrad Where female vanity might wish to fhine,

The pomp of cities and the pride of courts tɔ as W
Her modeft beauties fhunn'd the public eye;ld W
To your fequefter'd dales nil besedis: 9%
And flower-embroider'd vales. blanquodi bRA
From an admiring world the chofe to fly ;udi nisg
With nature there retir'd, and nature's Gop, wel
The filent paths of wisdom trod, Loviluni stony

And banish'd ev'ry passion from her breast,
But those, the gentlest and the best,
Whose holy flames with energy divine
The virtuous heart enliven and improve,
The conjugal and the maternal love.

Sweet babes who, like the little playful fawns, Were wont to trip along thefe verdant lawns, *** By your delighted mother's fide,

Who now your infant fteps fhall guide ?

Ah where is now the hand whofe tender care
To ev'ry virtue would have form'd your youth,"
And ftrew'd with flowersthe thorny ways of truth?
O lofs beyond repair!

O wretched father! left alone

To weep their dire misfortune and thy own!
How shall thy weaken'd mind, opprefs'd with wos,
And drooping o'er thy Lucy's grave,

Perform the duties that you doubly owe,y caftan W

Now the, alas is gone

From folly and from vice their helpless age to fave??

VII.

Where were ve, Mufes when relentless Fate

From these for

fond arms your fair disciple tore, From these fond arms that vainly strove

With hapless ineffectual love

To guard her bofom from the mortal blow?
Could not your fav'ring power, Aonian maids !
Could not, alas! your power prolong her date,
From whom fo oft in these infpiring shades,
Or under Campden's moss-clad mountains hoar,
You open'd all your facred ftore,

Whate'er your ancient fages taught,

Your ancient bards fublimely thought,

T

And bade her raptur'd breast with all your spirit glow?

VIII.

Nor then did Pindus or Caftalia's plain,
Or Aganippe's fount your steps detain,
Nor in the Thespian vallies did you play,

Nor then on Mincio's + bank,

Befet with ofiers dank,

Nor where Clitumnus * rolls his gentle stream,

+ The Mincio runs by Mantua,the birth place of Virgil. The Clitumnus is a river of Umbria, the residence of Propertius.