ODE TO SIMPLICITY. William Collins Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T116245 1135 K093079.002 Pearch, G. A collection of poems in four volumes. By several hands. Vol. II. [The second edition]. London printed for G. Pearch 1770 pp. 19-21. 4v. ; 8⁰.

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ODE TO SIMPLICITY . BY THE SAME . O Thou by Nature taught , To breathe her genuine thought , In numbers warmly pure , and sweetly strong : Who first on mountains wild , In Fancy , loveliest child , Thy babe , or Pleasure's , nurs'd the powers of song ! Thou , who with hermit heart Disdain'st the wealth of Art , And gauds , and pageant weeds , and trailing pall : But com'st a decent maid , In Attic robe array'd , O chaste , unboastful nymph , to thee I call ! By all the honey'd store On Hybla's thymy shore , By all her blooms and mingled murmurs dear ; By her , whose love-lorn woe , In evening musings slow , Sooth'd sweetly sad Electra's poet's ear : By old Cephisus deep , Who spread his wavy sweep In warbled wanderings round the green retreat , On whose enamel'd side , When holy Freedom died , No equal haunt allur'd thy future feet , O sister meek of Truth , To my admiring youth , Thy sober aid and native charms infuse ! The flowers that sweetest breathe , Tho' Beauty cull'd the wreath , Still ask thy hand to range their order'd hues . While Rome could none esteem , But Virtue's patriot theme , You lov'd her hills , and led the laureat band : But staid to sing alone To one distinguish'd throne , And turn'd thy face , and fled her alter'd land . No more , in hall or bower , The passions own thy power , Love , only love , her forceless numbers mean : For thou hast left her shrine , Nor olive more , nor vine , Shall gain thy feet to bless the servile scene . Tho' Taste , tho' Genius bless To some divine excess , Faint's the cold work till thou inspire the whole ; What each , what all supply , May court , may charm your eye , Thou , only thou , canst raise the meeting soul ! Of these let others ask , To aid some mighty task , I only seek to find thy temperate vale : Where oft my reed might sound To maids and shepherds round , And all thy sons , O Nature , learn my tale .