Verses Received by the Post

Health to the Bard in Leasowes' happy groves; Health, and sweet converse with the Muse he loves! The humblest vot'ry of the tuneful Nine, With trembling hand, attempts her artless line, In numbers such as untaught Nature brings, As flow, spontaneous, like thy native springs.

But, ah! what airy forms around me rise! The russet mountain glows with richer dyes; In circling dance a pigmy crowd appear, And, hark! an infant voice salutes my ear! ' Mortal! thy aim we know, thy task approve; ' His merit honour, and his genius love: ' For us what verdant carpets has he spread, ' Where, nightly, we our mystic mazes tread! ' For us each shady grove and rural seat, ' His falling streams and flowing numbers sweet! ' Didst thou not mark, amid the winding dell, ' What tuneful verse adorns the mossy cell? ' There ev'ry Fairy of our sprightly train ' Resort, to bless the woodland and the plain: ' There, as we move, unbidden beauties glow, ' The green turf brightens, and the violets blow; ' And there with thoughts sublime we bless the swain, ' Nor we inspire, nor he attends, in vain.

' Go, simple Rhimer! bear this message true; ' The truths that Fairies dictate none shall rue. ' Say to the Bard in Leasowes' happy grove, ' Whom Dryads honour, and whom Fairies love— " Content thyself no longer that thy lays, " By others foster'd, lend to others praise; " No longer to the fav'ring world refuse " The welcome treasures of thy polish'd Muse; " The scatter'd blooms that boast thy valu'd name, " Collect, unite, and give the wreath to Fame; " Ne'er can thy virtues, or thy verse, engage " More solid praise than in this happiest age, " When sense and merit's cherish'd by the throne, " And each illustrious privilege their own. " Tho' modest be thy gentle Muse, I ween, " Oh! lead her blushing from the daisy'd green, " A fit attendant on Britannia's Queen."

Ye sportive Elves! as faithful I relate Th' intrusted mandates of your Fairy state, Visit these wilds again with nightly care; So shall my kine, of all the herd, repair In healthful plight to fill the copious pail; My sheep lie pent with safety in the dale; My poultry fear no robber in the roost; My linen more than common whiteness boast: Let order, peace, and housewifery, be mine; Shenstone! be fancy, fame, and fortune, thine!