Now homeward as the hopeless went,
The church-yard path along,

The blast blew cold, the dark owl fcream'd,
Her lover's funeral fong.

Amid the falling gloom of night,
Her ftartling fancy found
In ev'ry bush his hov'ring fhade,

His groan in ev'ry found.

Alone, appall'd, thus had the pafs'd

The vifi'nary vale,

When lo! the death-bell fmote her ear,

Sad founding in the gale.

Juft then the reach'd with trembling steps,
Her aged mother's door!

"He's gone, (the cry'd) and I must see
That angel face no more!

I feel, I feel this breaking heart

Beat high against my fide :"

From her white arm down funk her head,

She fhiver'd, figh'd, and dy'd!

MALLET.

CHAPTER XVI.

CELADON AND AMELIA.

'Tis lift'ning fear, and dumb amazement all:
When to the startled eye the fudden glance
Appears far fouth, eruptive thro' the cloud;
And following flower, in explosion vast,
The thunder raifes his tremendous voice.
At first, heard folemn o'er the verge of Heav'n,
The tempeft growls; but as it nearer comes,
And rolls its awful burden on the wind,
The lightning's flash a larger curve, and more
The noife aftounds: till over-head a sheet
Of livid flame difclofes wide; then shuts
And opens wider; fhuts and opens ftill
Expantive, wrapping æther in a blaze
Follows the loofen'd aggravated roar,
Enlarging, deep'ning, mingling; peal on peal
Crush'd horrible, convulfing Heav'n and earth.

Guilt hears appall'd, with deeply troubled thought;

And yet not always on the guilty head
Defcends the fated flafh. Young Celadon
And his Amelia were a matchlefs pair ;
With equal virtue form'd, and equal grace';
The fame, diftinguifl'd by their fex alone:
Her's the mild lufire of the blooming morn,
And his the radiance of the rifen day.

They lov'd; but fuch their guiltlefs paffion was
As in the dawn of time inform'd the heart
Of innocence and undiffembling truth.
'Twas friendship, helghten'd by the mutual wifh,
Th' enchanting hope, and fympathetic glow,
Beam'd from the mutual eye. Devoting all
To love, each was to each a dearer felf;

Supremely happy in th' awaken'd power
Of giving joy. Alone, amid the fhades,
Still in harmonious intercourse they liv'd
The rural day, and talk'd the flowing hour,
Or figh'd, and look'd unutterable things.

So pafs'd their life, a clear united stream,
By Care unruffled: till, in evil hour,
The tempest caught them on the tender walk;
Heedlefs how far, and where its mazes frayed,
While, with each other bleft, creative love
Still bade eternal Eden fmile around.
Prefaging inftant fate her bofom heav'd
Unwonted fighs; and stealing oft a look
Of the big gloom, on Celadon her eye
Fell fearful, wetting her disorder'd cheek.
In vain affuring love and confidence

In Heaven, reprefs'd her fear; it grew and shook
Her frame near diffolution. He perceiv'd
Th' unequal conflict, and as angels look
On dying faints, his eyes compaffion shed,
With love illumin'd high," Fear not, (he faid,)
Sweet innocence! thou ftranger to offence,
And inward ftorm! He, who yon skies involves
In frowns of darkness, ever smiles on thee
With kind regard. O'er thee the secret shaft
That waftes at midnight, or th' undreaded hour
Of noon, flies harmless; and that very voice,
Which thunders terror thro' the guilty heart,
With tongues of feraphs whispers peace to thine;
'Tis fafety to be near thee fure, and thus

To clafp perfection!" From his void embrace,
(Myfterious Heaven!) that moment to the ground,
A blacken'd corfe, was ftruck the beautious maid,
But who can paint the lover as he stood,

G

Pierc'd by fevere amazement, hating life,
Speechless, and fix'd in all the death of woe!
So, faint refemblance! on the marble tomb
The well-diffembled mourner ftooping ftands
For ever filent, and for ever fad.

THOMSON.

CHAPTER XVII.

JUNIO AND THEANA.

Soon as young reafon dawn'd in Junio's breast,
His father fent him from these genial ifles,

To where old Thames with confcious pride furveys
Green Eton, foft abode of ev'ry mufe.

Each claffic beauty he foon made his own,
And foon fam'd Ifis faw him woo the Nine
On her inspiring banks. Love tun'd his fong;
For fair Theana was his only theme,
Acafto's daughter, whom in early youth
He oft diftinguifh'd; and for whom he oft
Had climb'd the bending cocoa's airy height
To rob it of its nectar; which the maid,
When he prefented, more nectareous deem'd.
The sweetest sapadillas oft he brought :
From him more fweet ripe fapadillas feem'd,
Nor had long abfence yet effac'd her form;
Her charms fill triumphed o'er Britannia's fair.
One morn he met her in Sheen's royal walks ;
Nor knew, til then, fweet Sheen contain'd his all.
His tafte mature approv'd his infant choice.
In colour, form, expreffion, and in grace
She fhone all perfect; while each pleating heart,
And each foft virtue, that the sex adorn,
Adorn'd the woman. My imperfect strain
Can ill defcribe the transports Junio felt
At this discovery: he declar'd his love;

She own'd his merit, nor refus'd his hand.

And shall not Hymen light his brightest torch
For this delighted pair? Ah! Junio knew
His fire detefted his Theana's house!
Thus duty, reverence, gratitude, conspir'd
To check their happy union. He refolv'd
(And many a figh that refolution coft).
To pass the time, till death his fire remov'd,
In vifiting old Europe's letter'd climes :
While the (and many a tear that parting drew)
Embark'd, reluctant, for her native isle.

Tho' learn'd, curious, and tho' nobly bent
With each rare talent to adorn his mind,
His native land to ferve; no joys he found.
Yet fprightly Gaul; yet Belgium, Saturn's reign;
Yet Greece, of old the feat of every Muse;
Of freedom, courage; yet Aufonia's clime,
His steps explor'd; where painting, mufic's ftrains,
Where arts, where laws, Philofophy's best child,
With rival beauties his attention claim'd.
To his juft-judging, his inftructed eye
The all-perfect Medicean Venus seem'd
A perfect femblance of his Indian fair :
But when she spoke of love, her voice furpafs'd
The harmonious warblings of Italian fong.

Twice one long year elaps'd, when letters came, Which briefly told him of his father's death. Afflicted, filial, yet to Heav'n refign'd,

Soon he reach'd Albion, and as foon embark'd,
Eager to clasp the object of his love.

Blow, profperous breezes! fwiftly fail, thou Po! Swift fail'd the Po, and happy breezes blew. In Bifcay's stormy feas an armed ship,

Of force fuperior, from loud Charante's wave