294 LYRIC POEMS. 4 Pro meo tetto casa sit, salobres Captet auroras, procul orbis atro Distet á fumo, fugiatgae longé Dura phthisis mala, dora tossi,. 'Displicet Byron Sc fremito molesto Turba merchanturq; gratias alvear Demulcet acres murmure, gratius Pons salientis aqute. 5 Liti osa forime terrent jurgia, lenes Ad bylvas properans rizosas execror artes Eminus in toto a linguis - -- Blandimenta artis simul segnus odi, Valete, cives, & amoenafraudis Verba; proh mores! Sc inane sacri Nomen agiti ! 6 Toque qum nostril inimica music Pelle sacratum vitias amorem, Absis mterném, civa libidinis Et pharetrate puer ! Hine, hint, Cupido, longihs avola? Nil mihi cum feed's, puer, ignibus;' Ethere9 fervent face pectora, Sacra mihiVenus est Urania, Et Jovenis Jessmus amor mihi. o Cceleste carmen (nec taceas lyre Jessma) lmtis auribus insonet, . Nec Watsianis 8 medullis Ulla dies rapiet vel hora. Sacri libelli, delicite mete, Et vos, sodales, semper amabiles, Nane simul adsitis, nine vicisshn, Et fallite tmdia vitas. To Mrs. SINGER. (Now Mr's. ROWE.) On the sight of some of leer divine Poems, never printed. July 19, 1706. t ON the fair banks of gentle Thames I tun'd my harp nor did celestial themes Refuse to dance upon my strjngs, There beneath the evemgg sky I sung my cares asleep, and rais'd my wishes high To everlasting things. Sudden from Albion's western coast Harmonious notes come gliding by, The neighbouring shepherds knew the silver sound; t"Tis Philomela's voice, the neigh - b'ring shepherds cry;" At once my strings all silent lie, At once my fainting muse was lost, In the supçnor sweetness drown'd. In vain I bid my tuneful powers unite ; My soul retir'd, and left my tongue, I was all ear, and Philomela's song Was all divine delight. 2 Now be my harp for ever dumb, My muse attempt no more. 'Twas long ago I bid adieu to mortal things, To Grecian tales, and wars of Rome. 'Twas long ao I -broke all but th' immortal -strings ; Now those immortal strings have no employ, Since a fair angel dwells below, To tune the notes heav'n, and pro- pagatethejoy. Let all my powerswith awe profound While Philomela sings, Attend the rapture of the sound, And my devotion rise on her seraphic wings.
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