EPISTLE
TO
THE
Right
Honble
.
the
Countess
of
HERTFORD
,
AT
PERCY
LODGE
:
WRITTEN
IN
THE
YEAR
MDCCXLIV
.
BY
THE
SAME
.
YOU
ask
me
,
madam
,
if
the
muse
From
Colebrooke
still
my
steps
pursues
:
Take
then
(
but
first
your
patience
lend
)
Her
story
thus
from
end
to
end
.
She
,
that
at
Bath
,
so
debonair
,
Sung
gallant
Damon
and
his
fair
,
To
beauteous
Townsend
tun'd
her
lyre
,
And
did
,
at
Pelham's
sight
,
inspire
Strains
,
that
her
Lincoln's
self
forgives
(
You
see
the
daring
poet
lives
!
)
She
,
that
at
Percy-Lodge
so
late
From
morn
to
night
was
us'd
to
prate
,
Almost
impertinent
and
rude
,
Unbidden
would
herself
intrude
With
tale
,
and
epigram
,
and
song
,
To
waft
the
chearful
hours
along
,
Whilst
I
,
o'erjoy'd
myself
to
view
Alive
,
and
with
my
lord
and
you
,
Not
once
could
check
her
merry
vein
,
Her
unpremeditated
strain
,
And
did
,
from
heedless
joy
,
neglect
To
greatness
every
grave
respect
;
This
muse
,
I
say
,
inconstant
grown
,
Forsook
me
,
when
I
came
to
town
;
Friend
to
my
fortune
,
she
withdrew
,
When
I
left
Percy-Lodge
and
you
.
Since
then
,
in
vain
I
ask
her
aid
,
In
vain
her
cruelty
upbraid
;
The
town
,
she
says
,
was
ne'er
her
choice
;
If
there
she
tries
to
raise
her
voice
,
Her
strains
are
to
their
theme
unjust
,
Or
drown'd
in
noise
,
or
choak'd
with
dust
.
Her
plea
is
good
.
The
muse's
theme
,
Like
the
pure
,
bright
,
harmonious
stream
,
Ne'er
but
in
rural
channels
flows
;
Cities
and
bards
are
endless
foes
.
Resolv'd
Parnassus'
top
to
climb
,
Part
of
a
Verse
of
Milton's
.
And
there
to
build
the
lofty
rhyme
,
I
to
fam'd
Claremont's
height
aspire
,
To
borrow
thence
poetic
fire
,
To
waft
,
like
Cooper's-Hill
,
its
name
On
wings
of
everlasting
fame
;
Or
,
(
if
that
bold
attempt
be
vain
)
Your
partial
ear
to
entertain
.
I
mount
my
chaise
,
the
space
between
,
Fancy
anticipates
the
scene
,
And
Vanity
,
officious
maid
,
Thus
offers
her
self-pleasing
aid
;
"
Poor
Vanbrugh's
plan
is
out
of
date
,
"
And
Garth
but
saw
its
rising
state
,
"
His
verse
with
tuneful
fable
rung
,
"
But
left
its
real
charms
unsung
;
"
But
now
,
to
my
transported
eyes
,
"
In
full
maturity
will
rise
"
The
bowers
,
the
temples
,
and
the
groves
,
"
That
Kent
has
plann'd
,
and
Pelham
loves
.
At
length
,
awaken'd
from
my
dream
,
My
eyes
behold
the
real
theme
,
And
the
gay
sketch
,
that
fancy
drew
,
They
find
more
amiably
true
.
On
a
neat
structure
now
they
rest
,
Where
rural
plainness
is
exprest
,
With
harvests
stor'd
,
compact
,
and
warm
,
And
,
tho'
Palladian
,
yet
a
farm
,
Whence
cars
,
in
rustic
order
drawn
,
Pass
and
repass
the
sloping
lawn
,
While
flocks
,
in
fleecy
groups
around
,
Or
,
moving
,
crop
the
daisy'd
ground
,
Or
,
sunk
beneath
the
tufted
trees
,
Turn
,
languid
,
to
the
noontide
breeze
.
The
lustier
herds
,
in
glare
of
day
,
Bask
,
and
imbibe
the
sunny
ray
.
While
these
I
view
,
on
humid
wings
The
sultry
south
a
tempest
brings
,
Black
clouds
invest
the
low'ring
skies
,
And
all
the
beauteous
vision
flies
.
Now
from
the
thick-descending
rain
I
drive
across
the
darken'd
plain
,
And
leave
the
lovely
scene
behind
,
That
just
began
to
charm
my
mind
.
How
rare
does
pleasure
stand
the
test
!
With
patience
now
I
arm
my
breast
,
And
,
in
a
moralizing
vein
,
With
thoughts
like
these
my
grief
restrain
:
"
The
skies
are
clear
,
when
storms
are
o'er
,
"
Again
smooth
waves
salute
the
shore
,
"
Each
sun
but
sets
to
rise
again
,
"
And
gild
with
morn
the
dewy
plain
;
"
This
hour
,
perhaps
,
hope
cheats
the
mind
,
"
The
next
,
an
equal
joy
we
find
.
"
Just
so
;
the
house
a
shelter
lends
,
Within
I
find
the
best
of
friends
,
Spence
,
whose
soft
bosom
oft
has
known
To
make
another's
woe
her
own
;
She
now
,
with
hospitable
grace
,
Compassionates
my
present
case
,
Asks
of
your
health
,
and
hears
with
joy
,
How
you
your
growing
strength
employ
In
rural
cares
and
exercise
;
And
kind
congratulations
rise
,
When
on
my
favourite
theme
I
dwell
,
And
Beauchamp's
rising
virtues
tell
.
Fondly
the
vanity
I
share
,
And
recollect
my
pleasing
care
,
That
,
with
parental
aid
combin'd
,
Founded
the
structure
of
his
mind
:
So
boastful
builders
call
their
own
Works
,
where
they
laid
the
first
rude
stone
.
The
storm
subsides
,
the
mount
I
gain
,
Thence
dart
my
eyes
across
the
plain
.
Full
swelling
to
the
sight
,
I
found
First
holy
Paul's
majestic
round
,
Thro'
wide
Augusta's
smoak
;
and
now
Rose
lofty
Windsor's
tow'red
brow
;
Here
glitter
streams
of
vulgar
names
,
There
slowly
winds
imperial
Thames
,
On
his
green
banks
,
in
level
line
,
Here
spacious
Hampton's
turrets
shine
,
Whose
windows
kindling
at
the
ray
Of
Sol
,
beam
back
redoubled
day
;
Towns
,
villages
,
and
pointed
spires
,
And
smoak
thick-wreath'd
from
cottage-fires
,
And
planted
villas
,
intervene
,
To
grace
the
sweetly-vary'd
scene
.
O'er
all
my
eyes
transported
range
,
With
every
glance
the
visions
change
,
Till
,
drawn
by
beauties
nearer
home
,
Along
the
lovely
park
I
roam
,
Now
skim
the
walk
,
descend
the
glade
,
Then
plunge
into
the
deepest
shade
.
Here
flourish
sweets
in
mingled
bloom
,
There
(
worthy
ancient
Greece
or
Rome
)
Fair
temples
,
opening
to
the
sight
,
Surprise
each
turn
with
new
delight
;
In
pleasure
lost
,
I
wish
to
gaze
At
once
a
thousand
different
ways
,
Awful
or
pleasing
,
every
part
Expands
the
soul
,
or
glads
the
heart
,
Great
,
open
,
liberal
,
unconfin'd
,
Just
emblem
of
its
master's
mind
,
Who
knows
unequall'd
state
to
shew
,
Yet
,
gracious
,
stoops
to
all
below
.
Beneath
a
hill
,
whose
hoary
brow
Ne'er
felt
the
wound
of
scythe
or
plow
,
(
Along
whose
wild
and
heathy
side
Britannia's
About
that
time
the
crew
of
the
Centurion
were
expected
to
pass
by
from
Portsmouth
with
the
prize-money
taken
from
the
Acapulca
ship
.
naval
heroes
ride
,
When
they
,
with
colours
wide
display'd
,
That
proud
Iberia's
sons
upbraid
,
In
tawny
troop
,
from
India's
shore
,
Guard
in
rough
pomp
their
captive
ore
)
Mid
circling
waters
lies
an
isle
,
Whose
verdant
shores
reflected
smile
With
Flora's
painted
hues
;
above
,
Soft-bosom'd
in
a
shady
grove
,
A
dome
,
but
half
reveal'd
to
sight
,
Chequers
the
boughs
with
Parian
white
.
If
chance
from
hence
at
evening
fair
The
rising
song
soft
steals
on
air
,
Which
to
the
well-according
strings
The
skillful
voice
sweet-warbling
sings
,
The
passing
swain
suspended
stands
,
And
,
wondering
,
lifts
to
heaven
his
hands
,
Doubts
if
beneath
some
leafy
spray
Soft
Philomela
pours
her
lay
,
Or
some
blest
spirit
from
above
Enchants
with
harmony
the
grove
;
Nor
guesses
that
the
tuneful
art
,
Which
awes
and
charms
his
simple
heart
,
Is
hers
,
whose
bounty
loves
to
bless
Sad
sickening
want
,
and
lone
distress
,
And
hers
the
sweet
enchanting
song
,
To
whom
the
listening
groves
belong
,
And
all
,
that
her
Newcastle's
art
In
boundless
fondness
can
impart
,
Each
level
walk
,
each
shelving
glade
,
Whate'er
employs
the
labourer's
spade
,
Whate'er
rewards
his
patient
toil
,
And
makes
the
barren
desert
smile
.
This
isle
in
tempting
prospect
stands
,
Thither
I
stretch
my
eyes
and
hands
,
Eager
the
farther
shore
to
gain
,
But
stretch
my
hands
and
eyes
in
vain
.
For
hark
!
the
threat'ning
winds
arise
,
Again
with
clouds
obscure
the
skies
,
And
tell
my
baffled
hopes
,
that
this
Is
an
inchanted
isle
of
bliss
,
Now
in
near
prospect
blooming
fair
,
And
now
involv'd
in
black
despair
!
My
chaise
regain'd
,
I
cross
the
plain
,
When
lo
!
the
sun
beams
forth
again
.
Hope
,
gay
impostor
,
points
the
way
,
Where
,
near
the
road
,
fair
Esher
lay
;
And
who
at
Esher
would
not
stay
?
I
turn'd
.
Retiring
from
the
town
,
The
noble
owner
just
came
down
.
I
saw
the
gate
behind
him
close
,
Then
murmur'd
at
this
short
repose
From
cares
for
Britain's
safety
shewn
,
Grudg'd
his
repose
,
who
guards
my
own
!
I
now
pursue
my
former
way
,
And
with
my
journey
ends
this
day
Of
hope
,
and
fear
,
and
pain
,
and
pleasure
,
Of
all
my
other
days
the
measure
!
Yours
a
more
even
tenor
know
,
And
scarce
perceive
an
ebb
or
flow
.
The
cause
is
plain
.
To
fortune's
gale
You
,
cautious
,
never
spread
a
sail
;
Safe
in
your
port
,
content
at
home
,
You
ne'er
for
painful
pleasure
roam
,
And
think
it
folly
,
if
not
sin
,
One
night
to
sojourn
at
an
inn
.
Nay
,
when
the
Atlas
of
our
state
Throws
off
for
you
a
nation's
weight
,
In
courtly
terms
your
ear
to
greet
,
And
cast
himself
beneath
your
feet
,
You
(
like
Egeria
)
in
your
grott
Or
seek
he
must
,
or
finds
you
not
.
More
cautious
still
,
e'en
when
retir'd
,
By
wits
nor
censur'd
,
nor
admir'd
,
You
say
,
(
tho'
every
art
your
friend
)
You
dare
to
no
one
art
pretend
.
Your
fear
is
just
.
Each
state
and
nation
Assigns
to
woman
reputation
,
While
man
asserts
his
wider
claim
,
Jealous
proprietor
of
same
.
Yet
sure
,
without
offence
,
you
may
On
nature's
open
leaf
display
Your
harmless
unambitious
skill
,
To
sink
a
grott
,
or
slope
a
hill
,
A
dell
with
flowers
adorn
,
or
lead
A
winding
rill
along
the
mead
,
Or
bid
opposing
trees
be
join'd
,
In
hospitable
league
intwin'd
,
Without
their
leave
,
whose
madness
dares
Rouze
human
states
to
cruel
wars
;
Or
,
if
the
Bourbon
of
the
air
Against
your
feather'd
folk
declare
Fell
war
,
betake
you
to
th'
alliance
Of
net
or
gun
,
and
bid
defiance
To
every
robber
,
small
or
great
,
That
would
disturb
your
calm
retreat
.
O
may
kind
heaven
propitious
smile
On
every
art
that
can
beguile
A
son's
long
absence
from
your
sight
,
And
render
back
that
just
delight
!
From
those
distracting
dire
alarms
,
That
set
a
jarring
world
in
arms
,
From
tainted
air's
infectious
breath
,
Where
flies
unseen
the
dart
of
death
,
His
steps
,
ye
guardian
angels
,
guide
,
And
turn
the
fatal
shaft
aside
!
Return'd
,
his
parent's
bliss
to
crown
,
And
make
,
all
earth
can
give
,
their
own
,
Like
Smithson's
,
may
his
manly
heart
Act
not
the
vain
,
but
generous
part
,
Call
drooping
art
from
her
recess
,
With
health
,
and
ease
,
and
fame
to
bless
!
O
may
,
like
his
,
his
riper
age
With
caution
tread
the
civil
stage
,
Like
him
,
th'
enchanted
cup
put
by
,
And
every
vain
temptation
fly
,
Of
power
,
or
pension
,
place
,
or
name
;
If
meant
state-traps
,
that
sink
to
shame
;
Yet
his
just
Prince
,
without
a
bribe
,
Love
—
more
than
all
the
venal
tribe
!
But
from
these
themes
I
now
refrain
;
Reserv'd
to
grace
a
future
strain
.
For
I
have
trespass'd
on
your
time
,
And
see
a
tedious
length
of
rhyme
.
What
must
it
then
appear
to
you
?
Respectful
most
this
short
adieu
.