Folgendes bekannte elegische Lied dieses sehr gefälligen, und vornehmlich durch seine Art d'aimer bekarnten, Dichters (Pierre Joseph Bernard; gest. 1775,) verdient auch hier eine Stelle.
Tendre fruit des pleurs de l'Aurore,
Toi, dont Zephiré va jouir,
Reine de l'empire de Flore,
Hâte-toi de t'épanouir.
Que dis-je? hélas! crains de paroitre;
Diffère un moment de t'ouvrir;
L'inftant qui doit te faire naître
Eft celui qui doit te flétrir.
Thémire eft une fleur nouvelle,
Qui fubira la même loi;
Rofe, tu dois briller comme elle;
Elle doit paffer comme toi.
Quitte cette tige épineuse ;
Va l'embellir de tes couleurs;
Tu dois être la plus heureuse
Comme la plus belle des fleurs.
Va, meurs fur le fein de Thémire,
Qu'il foit ton trône et ton tombeau;
Jaloux de ton fort, je n'afpire
Qu'au bonheur d'un trépas fi beau.
Suis la main qui va te conduire
Du côté que tu dois pencher;
Eclate à nos yeux fans leur nuire;
Pare fon fein, fans le cacher.
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Vorzüglichen Beifall und Ruhm in der elegischen Gat tung erwarb sich unter den englischen Dichtern James Hammond, geb. um 1710; geft. 1779. Er verfertigte seiz ne Elegieen schon in seiner frühen Jugend; und die Delia, die er darin besingt, war eine gewisse Miß Dashwood; sie wurden aber erst nach seinem Tode, durch den Grafen von Chesterfield, herausgegeben. Fast durchgängig find fie Nachahmungen Tibull's; die funfzehnte ist in Ovid's Mas. nier. Viel sanftes Gefühl, verbunden mit feiner Wendung und Spräche, giebt ihnen einen sehr vorzüglichen Werth; und Dr. Johnson urtheilt, verleitet durch Feindseligkeit wider ihren Herausgeber, sehr hart und ungerecht, wenn er ihnen Leidenschaft, Natur und Sitten schlechthin abs spricht. Man vergleiche die folgende Elegie mit der oben abgedruckten aus dem Tibull, deren glückliche Nachbildung fie ist.
Let others boast their heaps of fhining gold,
And view their fields with waving plenty crown'd,
Whom neighb'ring foes in conftant terrour hold,
And trumpets break their flumbers, never found:
While calmly poor, I trifle life away,
Enjoy fweet leifure by my cheerful fire;
No wanton hope my quiet fhall betray,
But, cheaply bleft, I'll fcorn each vain defire.
With timely care I'll fow my little field
And plant my orchard with its master's hand,
Nor blush to spread the hay, the hook to wield,
Or range my fheaves along the funny land.
Hammond. If late at dufk, while carelessly Iroam,
I meet a ftrolling kid or bleating lamb,
Under my arm I'll bring the wand'rer home,
And not a little chide its thoughtless dam.
What joy to hear the tempeft howl in vain,
And clafp a fearful miftrefs to my breast!
Or full'd to flumber by the beating rain,
Secure and happy, fink at laft to rest!
Or if the fun in flaming Leo ride
By fhady rivers indolently stray
And with my Delia, walking fide by fide,
Hear how they murmur as they glide away!
What joy to wind along the cool retreat,
To ftop, and gaze on Delia as I go!
To mingle fweet difcourfe with kiffes fweet
And teach my lovely scholar all I know!
Thus pleas'd at not with Fancy's dream,
In filent happiness I reft unknown,
Content with what I am, not what I feem,
I live for Delia and myself alone.
Ah! foolish man! who thus of her poffeft
Could float and wander with Ambition's wind,
And if his outward trappings spoke him bleft
Not heed the fickness of his confcious mind
With her I fcorn the idle breath of Praise,
Nor truft to happiness that's not our own;
The fmile of Fortune might fufpicion raise,
But here, I know that I am lov'd alone.
Stanhope, in wisdom as in wit divine,
May rife and plead Britannia's glorious caufe,
With fteady rein his eager wit confine,
While manly fenfe the deep, attention draws.
Let Stanhope fpeak his lift'ning Country's wrongs, hammond. My humble voice fhall pleafe one partial maid;
For her alone I pen my tender fongs,
Securely fitting in his friendly fhade.
Stanhope fhall come and grace his rural friend;
Delia fhall wonder at her noble gueft,
With blufhing awe the riper fruit commend
And for her husband's patron call the best.
Her's be the care of all my little train
While I with tender indolence am bleft,
The favourite fubject of her gentle reign,
By love alone diftinguifh'd from the reft
For her I'll yoke my oxen to the plow,
In gloomy forest tend my lonely flock;
For her a goat-therd climb the mountain's brow,
And fleep extended on the nacked rock.
Ah! what avails to prefs the ftately bed,
And far from her 'midft taftelefs grandeur weep,
By marble fountains lay the penfive head
And while they murmur strive in vain to fleep?
Delia alone can please and never tire,
Exceed the paint of thought in true delight:
With her enjoyment wakens new defire,
And equal rapture glows thro' ev'ry night,
Beauty and worth in her alike contend
To charm the fancy and to fix the mind:
In her my wife, my miftrefs, and my friend,
I tafte the joys of fenfe and reafon join'd.
On her I'll gaze when others' loves are o'er,
And dying prefs her with my clay-cold hand
Thou weep'ft already as I wereno more,
Nor can that gentle breast the thought withstand
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