VERSES
WRITTEN
UPON
A
PEDESTAL
BENEATH
A
ROW
OF
ELMS
IN
A
MEADOW
NEAR
RICHMOND
FERRY
,
BELONGING
TO
RICHARD
OWEN
CAMBRIDGE
,
ESQ
.
SEPTEMBER
1760.
BY
THE
SAME
.
The
first
line
of
this
little
piece
is
borrowed
from
an
Ode
of
Mr.
Mason's
,
published
in
Dodsley's
Miscellanies
.
YE
green-hair'd
Nymphs
,
whom
Pan
allows
To
guard
from
harm
these
favour'd
boughs
;
Ye
blue-ey'd
Naiads
of
the
stream
,
That
soothe
the
warm
poetic
dream
;
Ye
elves
and
sprights
,
that
thronging
round
,
When
midnight
darkens
all
the
ground
,
In
antic
measures
uncontroul'd
,
Your
fairy
sports
and
revels
hold
,
And
up
and
down
,
where-e'er
ye
pass
,
With
many
a
ringlet
print
the
grass
;
If
e'er
the
bard
hath
hail'd
your
power
At
morn's
grey
dawn
,
or
evening
hour
;
If
e'er
by
moon-light
on
the
plain
Your
ears
have
caught
th'
enraptur'd
strain
;
From
every
flow'ret's
velvet
head
,
From
reverend
Thames's
oozy
bed
,
From
these
moss'd
elms
,
where
,
prison'd
deep
,
Conceal'd
from
human
eyes
,
ye
sleep
,
If
these
your
haunts
be
worth
your
care
,
Awake
,
arise
,
and
hear
my
prayer
!
O
banish
from
this
peaceful
plain
The
perjur'd
nymph
,
the
faithless
swain
,
The
stubborn
heart
,
that
scorns
to
bow
And
harsh
rejects
the
honest
vow
:
The
fop
,
who
wounds
the
virgin's
ear
,
With
aught
that
sense
would
blush
to
hear
,
Or
,
false
to
honour
,
mean
and
vain
,
Defames
the
worth
he
cannot
stain
:
The
light
conquet
,
with
various
art
,
Who
casts
her
net
for
every
heart
,
And
smiling
slatters
to
the
chace
Alike
the
worthy
and
the
base
:
The
dame
,
who
,
proud
of
virtue's
praise
,
Is
happy
if
a
sister
strays
,
And
,
conscious
of
unclouded
fame
,
Delighted
,
spreads
the
tale
of
shame
:
But
far
,
O
!
banish'd
far
be
they
,
Who
hear
unmov'd
the
orphan's
cry
,
Who
see
,
nor
wish
to
wipe
away
The
tear
that
swells
the
widow's
eye
;
The
unloving
man
,
whose
narrow
mind
Disdains
to
feel
for
human-kind
,
At
others'
bliss
whose
cheek
ne'er
glows
,
Whose
breast
ne'er
throbs
with
others'
woes
,
Whose
hoarded
sum
of
private
joys
His
private
care
alone
destroys
;
Ye
fairies
cast
your
spells
around
,
And
guard
from
such
this
hallow'd
ground
!
But
welcome
all
,
who
sigh
with
truth
,
Each
constant
maid
and
faithful
youth
,
Whom
mutual
love
alone
hath
join'd
,
Sweet
union
of
the
willing
mind
!
Hearts
pair'd
in
Heaven
,
not
meanly
sold
,
Law-licens'd
prostitutes
for
gold
:
And
welcome
thrice
,
and
thrice
again
,
The
chosen
few
,
the
worthy
train
,
Whose
steady
feet
,
untaught
to
stray
,
Still
tread
where
virtue
marks
the
way
;
Whose
souls
no
thought
,
whose
hands
have
known
No
deed
,
which
honour
might
not
own
;
Who
,
torn
with
pain
,
or
stung
with
care
,
In
others'
bliss
can
claim
a
part
,
And
,
in
life's
brightest
hour
,
can
share
Each
pang
that
wrings
another's
heart
:
Ye
guardian
spirits
,
when
such
ye
see
,
Sweet
peace
be
theirs
,
and
welcome
free
!
Clear
be
the
sky
from
clouds
or
showers
!
Green
be
the
turf
,
and
fresh
the
flowers
!
And
that
the
youth
,
whose
pious
care
Lays
on
your
shrine
this
honest
prayer
,
May
,
with
the
rest
,
admittance
gain
,
And
visit
oft
this
pleasant
scene
,
Let
all
who
love
the
Muse
attend
:
Who
loves
the
Muse
is
Virtue's
friend
!
Such
then
alone
may
venture
here
,
Who
,
free
from
guilt
,
are
free
from
fear
;
Whose
wide
affections
can
embrace
The
whole
extent
of
human
race
;
Whom
Virtue
and
her
friends
approve
;
Whom
Cambridge
and
the
Muses
love
.