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The following eclogues, written by Mr. Collins, are very pretty: the images, it must be owned, are not very local; for the paftoral fubject could not well admit of it. The defcription of Afiatic magnificence, and manners, is à fubject as yet unat-, tempted amongst us, and, I believe, capable of furnishing a great variety of poetical imagery.

E Perhan maids, attend your poet's lays,

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And hear how shepherds pafs their golden days. Not all are bleft, whom Fortune's hand fuftains. With wealth, in courts, nor all that haunt the plains: Well may your hearts believe the truths I tell; 'Tis virtue makes the blifs, where'er we dwell. Thus Selim fung, by facred Truth inspir'd; Nor praife, but:fuch as Truth beftow'd, defir'd:

Wife in himself, his meaning fongs convey'd
Informing morals to the fhepherd maid;

Ör taught the fwains that fureft blifs to find,
What groves nor ftreams bestow, a virtuous mind,
When, fweet, and blufhing like a virgin bride,
The radiant morn resum'd her orient pride ;
When wanton gales along the valleys play,
Breathe on each flower, and bear their sweets away;
By Tigris' wandering waves he fat, and fung
This useful leffon for the fair and young.

Ye Perfian dames, he faid, to you belong,
Well may they pleafe, the morals of my fong:
No fairer maids, I truft, than you are found,
Grac'd with soft arts, the peopled world around!
The morn that lights you, to your loves fupplies
Each gentler ray delicious to your eyes:
For you those flowers her fragrant hands beftow,
And yours the love that kings delight to know.
Yet think not thefe, all-beauteous as they are,
The best kind bleffings Heaven can grant the fair!
Who truft alone in beauty's feeble ray,

Boaft but the worth Baffora's pearls display ;
Drawn from the deep we own their surface bright,
But, dark within, they drink no lustrous light:
Such are the maids, and fuch the charms they boast,"
By fenfe unaided, or to virtue loft.

Self-flattering fex! your hearts believe in vain
That love fhall blind, whence once he fires the fwain;
Or hope a lover by your faults to win,

As fpots on ermin beautify the fkin;

Who

Who feeks fecure to rule, be first her care
Each fofter virtue that adorns the fair;
Each tender paffion man delights to find,
The lov'd perfections of a female mind!

Bleft were the days, when Wisdom held her reign, And shepherds fought her on the filent plain; . With Truth fhe wedded in the fecret grove, Immortal Truth; and daughters bless'd their love. O haste, fair maids! ye Virtues come away; Sweet Seace and Plenty lead you on your way ! The balmy shrub for you fhall love our shore, By Ind excell'd, or Araby, no more.

Loft to our fields, for fo the fates ordain, The dear deferters fhall return again.

Come thou, whofe thoughts as limpid fprings are clear,

To lead the train, sweet Modefty, appear:
Here make thy court, amidst our rural scene,
And fhepherd-girls fhall own thee for their queen.
With thee be Chastity, of all afraid,
Diftrusting all; a wife, fufpicious maid:

But man the most-not more the mountain doe
Holds the swift falcon for her deadly foe.

Cold is her breaft, like flowers that drink the dew

A filken veil conceals her from the view.
No wild defires amidst thy train be known,
But Faith, whose heart is fix'd on one alone;
Defponding Meeknefs, with her downcaft eyes,
And friendly Pity, full of tender sighs;

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And Love the last: by these your hearts approve; These are the virtues that must lead to love.

Thus fung the fwain; and antient legends fay, The maids of Bagdat verified the lay : Dear to the plains, the Virtues came along; The shepherds lov'd, and Selim blefs'd his fong.

ECLOGUE

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