HYMN to Miss LAURENCE, in the PUMP-ROOM.

BATH, 1753.

NAIAD of this healthful stream,
Fair LAURENTIA, if I deem
Rightly of thy office here,
If the theme may please thine ear,
Listen gracious to my lays,
While the springs of HEALTH I praise:
Nor will less thy glory shine,
If their praise I blend with thine.
For of their renown of old
Stories many FAME hath told:
Ancient bards their name have sung
Heroes, kings, and gods among,
And with various titles grac'd,
While their fountain-head they trac'd.
Whether BLADUD, king of yore,
Skill'd in philosophic lore,
Mingling various kinds of earth,
Metallic, gave the waters birth,
KING'S-BATH nam'd, beneath thy feet
Boiling ay with mineral heat:
Or, whether from his car on high
Phoebus saw with amorous eye
The fountain-nymph, with humid train,
Light of foot, trip o'er the plain;
Strait the god, inflam'd with love,
Swift descending from above,
All in fervors bright array'd
Press'd her bosom; and the maid
Gladly to his warm embrace
Yielded: whence the happy place,
Where the nymph he woo'd and won,
Was call'd the WATERS OF THE SUN.
FAME that title widely spred;
Yet, ere Roman legions fled
The wrath of sturdy British knights,
Pallas claim'd religious rights;
British PALLADOUR then rose,
From the goddess nam'd, who chose
Near the favourite streams to dwell,
Guardian of the sacred well.

But long since HYGEIA fair
Under her peculiar care
Receiv'd the springs; for well she knows
Each salubrious rill that flows
Forth from subterranean vaults,
Stor'd by NATURE'S hand with salts,
Steel, or sulphur: for her use
NATURE opens every sluice,
Which HYGEIA gives in charge
To sev'ral nymphs: herself at large
Roams o'er hill, and dale, and plain,
Lacky'd by a duteous train;
Oreads, Naiads, Dryads pay
Service glad: some smooth her way,
Or mists disperse, or brush the trees;
Others waft the morning-breeze
From mountain-tops: adown the hills
Others pour refreshing rills,
Or bathe her limbs in fountain neat,
Aiding, all, her influence sweet.
SHE with smiling eye surveys
Rustic labours, and conveys
STRENGTH to the active thresher's arm,
To village-maidens BEAUTY'S charm.

Happy are the sons of earth
Whom the goddess at their birth
Shin'd on. Yet, her heavenly ray
Numbers, not respecting, stray
From her presence, and pursue
LUXURY'S paths, whose sordid crew,
LUST inordinate, and SLOTH,
And GLUTTONY'S unwieldy growth,
Lead them on to SHAME, and PAIN,
And MALADIES, an endless train.
Oft with pangs distracting torn
They HYGEIA'S absence mourn;
Bitter change! their languid eyes
Feel not joy in sunny skies;
Nor doth NIGHT, with slumber blest,
Close them at the hour of rest.
And oft with sighs, and tears, and pray'r
Half-suppress'd by sad despair,
They the queen of health implore
Her wish'd presence to restore.

Nor unmindful of their woes
Is the goddess; for me chose
Thee, LAURENTIA, loveliest maid
Among thy sister nymphs, who play'd
On the banks of Avon, Thee,
Bright-ey'd nymph, she chose to be
Her substitute, and pow'r she gave
Sov'reign o'er the healing wave
Which thou rul'st with gentle sway.
Thee the smoaking tides obey
Joyous; and at thy command
Wash thy rosy-finger'd hand;
Thence in crystal cups convey'd
Yield their salutary aid
To all, whom Thou with look benign
Smil'st on round HYGEIA'S shrine;
All of appetite deprav'd,
Those whom pale-ey'd SPLEEN enslav'd,
Cripples bent with gouty pain,
Whom JAUNDICE ting'd with muddy stain,
Or whose frame of nerves, with stroke
Benumming, tremulous PALSY broke.
These the balmy, cordial stream
Quaff, rejoicing; Thee, their theme
Of praise, extol; thy tender care,
Thy soft address, and courteous air:
And while HARMONY, the friend
Of HEALTH, delights to recommend
Thy ministry, thy charms inspire
Love and joy, and gay desire:
For the goddess, when she gave
Rule imperial o'er the wave,
To adorn the gift, and grace thy state,
On Thee bade YOUTH and BEAUTY wait.

Nor dost thou not taste delight
Where thou sit'st in duteous plight;
For the joy, thy hand bestows,
Back to thee redounding flows,
When the cheek of faded hue,
Thou seest displaying roses new.
Thee suspended crutches please,
Signal trophies from DISEASE
Won to HEALTH victorious. Hail,
Comfort, and support of frail
Human state! Hail, blooming maid!
Nymph belov'd! without thy aid,
He, who, greeting thee, his lays
Now attunes to notes of praise,
Mute had been, oppress'd with pain
Of spasm rheumatic. Hail again,
Priestess of HYGEIA'S shrine!
Still dispense her gift divine,
Still her vot'ries lead to HEALTH;
Else, what profits Marlborough's wealth,
 Eliza's form, and Stanhope's wit,
And all the eloquence of Pitt?