Gibbons.-Fordyce. - Stevens.

365

1720-1785.

THOMAS GIBBONS.

That man may last, but never lives,

Who much receives but nothing gives;

Whom none can love, whom none can thank,
Creation's blot, creation's blank.

When Jesus dwelt.

JAMES FORDYCE.

1720-1796.

Henceforth the Majesty of God revere ;

Fear Him and you have nothing else to fear.1 Answer to a Gentleman who apologized to the Author for Swearing.

GEORGE A. STEVENS. 1720-1784.

Cease, rude Boreas, blustering railer!
List, ye landsmen, all to me;
Messmates, hear a brother sailor
Sing the dangers of the sea.

The Storm.

1 Je crains Dieu, cher Abner, et n'ai point d'autre crainte. Racine. 1639-1699. Athalie, Acti. Sc. 1. From Piety, whose soul sincere

Fears God, and knows no other fear.

W. Smyth, Ode for the Installation of the Duke of
Gloucester, as Chancellor of Cambridge.

WILLIAM COLLINS. 1720-1756.

How sleep the brave who sink to rest,
By all their country's wishes bless'd!

Ode in 1746.

By fairy hands their knell is rung;
By forms unseen their dirge is sung;
There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray,
To bless the turf that wraps their clay;
And Freedom shall awhile repair,
To dwell a weeping hermit there.

When Music, heavenly maid, was young,
While yet in early Greece she sung.

Ibid.

The Passions. Line 1.

Filled with fury, rapt, inspir'd. Ibid. Line 10.

'T was sad by fits, by starts 't was wild.

Ibid. Line 28.

In notes by distance made more sweet.

In hollow murmurs died away.

Ibid. Line 60.

Ibid. Line 68.

O Music! sphere-descended maid,
Friend of pleasure, wisdom's aid!

Ibid. Line 95.

Well may your hearts believe the truths I tell ; 'Tis virtue makes the bliss, where'er we dwell. Eclogue 1. Line 5.

Collins.--Foote.- Smollett.

367

Too nicely Jonson knew the critic's part; Nature in him was almost lost in Art. To Sir Thomas Hanmer on his Edition of Shakespeare. In yonder grave a Druid lies.

Ode on the Death of Thomson.

SAMUEL FOOTE.

1720-1777.

He made him a hut, wherein he did put
The carcass of Robinson Crusoe.

O poor Robinson Crusoe!

The Mayor of Garratt. Acti. Sc. I.

TOBIAS SMOLLETT.

1721-1771.

Thy spirit, Independence, let me share;
Lord of the lion heart, and eagle eye,
Thy steps I follow with my bosom bare,
Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky.
Ode to Independence.

Thy fatal shafts unerring move,

I bow before thine altar, Love!

Roderick Random, Ch. xl.

Facts are stubborn things.1

Translation of Gil Blas. Book x. Ch. 1.

1 Facts are stubborn things. - Elliot, Essay on Field

Husbandry, p. 35 (1747).

368

Home.-Gifford.— Wolfe.

JOHN HOME.

1724-1808.

In the first days

Of my distracting grief, I found myself
As women wish to be who love their lords.
Douglas. Act i. Sc. 1.

My name is Norval; on the Grampian hills
My father feeds his flocks; a frugal swain,
Whose constant cares were to increase his store,
And keep his only son, myself, at home.

Ibid. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Like Douglas conquer, or like Douglas die. Ibid. Act v. Sc. I.

RICHARD GIFFORD. 1725-1807.

Verse sweetens toil, however rude the sound; All at her work the village maiden sings,

Nor, while she turns the giddy wheel around, Revolves the sad vicissitudes of things.1 Contemplation.

JAMES WOLFE. 1726-1759.

There is such a choice of difficulties that I am

myself at a loss how to determine.

Despatch to Pitt, Sept. 2, 1759

1 Compare Sterne, ante, p. 351.

OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 1728-1774.

Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow.

The Traveller. Line 1.

Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see,
My heart untravell'd fondly turns to thee;
Still to my brother turns, with ceaseless pain,
And drags at each remove a lengthening chain.
Line 7.

And learn the luxury of doing good.' Line 22.
Some fleeting good, that mocks me with the view.

Line 26.

These little things are great to little man.

Line 42.

Creation's heir, the world, the world is mine! Line 50.

Such is the patriot's boast, where'er we roam, His first, best country ever is at home.

Line 73.

Man seems the only growth that dwindles here.

Line 126.

By sports like these are all their cares beguil'd; The sports of children satisfy the child.

Line 153.

But winter lingering chills the lap of May.

1 For all their luxury was doing good.

Line 172.

Garth, Claremont, Line 149; Crabbe, Tales of
The Hall, Book iii.; Graves, The Epicure.