From Friendship’s Breast reluctant they withdrew, And with a sigh forsook their native air: To their fond Parents when they bad adieu Gush’d from their Eye the tender filial Tear. For Thee, who mindful of th’ encloyster’d Fair Dost in these Lines their artless Tale relate, If Chance in distant Time’s revolving Year Some kindred Spirit shall enquire thy Fate. Haply some aged Vestal may reply, “Oft have we seen Him ’ere Aurora’s Ray “Had faintly ting’d with red the op’ning Sky “Hasten to Church, and Join the Matin Lay. “There at the Tomb where _Eloisa_ lies, “He’d read th’ Inscription: and her Fate condole, “Then in his Breast, as scenes of Grief arise, “Sigh the kind Requiem to her gentle soul. “Against yon Pillar careless now He’d lean, “Smiling at what his wayward Fancy moves: “Now drooping, wan, and pensive, wou’d be seen “As one abandon’d by the Fair He loves. “One morn I miss’d Him in the aweful Dome “Along the Isle, and in the Sacristy; “Another came, nor yet beside the Tomb, “Nor at the Font, nor in the Porch was He. “The next we heard, which did our wonder move, “He was departed to return no more, “Yet lest the sudden change we shou’d reprove, “These Lines He sent us from _Britannia’s_ shore. “What time in Transport lost the Naïad Throng, “First catch’d their _Akenside’s_ enchanting Lay, “And raptur’d Fancy listen’d to the Song “Of laurel’d _Whitehead_, and sweet-plaintive _Gray_.” THE LETTER. _A Vestal Fair (Her Name I mayn’t unfold) Has planted in my Breast the pleasing Dart; Who by relentless vows, if not controll’d, Wou’d own, perchance, a Sympathy of Heart._ _The growing Passion impotent to quell, Severe Discretion urg’d me to retreat; Now at my native rural Home I dwell, Where Contemplation keeps her lonely seat._ _Seek not to draw me from this still abode, Where the kind Muses to my Aid repair, And when the Thoughts of hapless Love corrode Check the deep Sigh, and wipe the trickling Tear._ This is given from the original quarto; there have been numerous reprints, all containing considerable variations from the above, which it would be alike tedious and unnecessary to enumerate. One version, and perhaps the best known, is to be found in _The Repository_, Vol. 2, London, 1777. ――――:o:―――― ELEGY On the Death of “THE GUARDIAN OUTWITTED.” 1764.[1] The shrill bell rings the knell of “Curtain rise” From the thrum’d string the scraping herd to warn Behind the scenes the plodding snuffer hies And leaves the stage to operas and to Arne. Now strike the glimmering lamps upon the sight And all the house a solemn stillness holds, Save where the Seaman from the Gallery’s height, For roast beef bawling, the cu’d Fiddler scolds;