TO WILLIAM SHENSTONE, Esq The PRODUCTION of Half an Hour's Leisure. Elizabeth Thomas Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
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Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T124631 1073 K099398.000 Mendez, Moses. A collection of the most esteemed pieces of poetry: that have appeared for several years. With variety of originals, by the late Moses Mendez, Esq; and other contributors to Dodsley's collection. To which this is intended as a supplement. London printed for Richardson and Urquhart 1767 pp. 115-117. [8],320p. ; 8⁰.

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TO WILLIAM SHENSTONE , Esq The PRODUCTION of Half an Hour's Leisure . August 30 , 1761. HEALTH to the bard , in Leasowes' happy groves , Health and sweet converse with the muse he loves ! The lowliest vot'ry of the tuneful Nine , With trembling hand , attempts her artless line , In numbers such as untaught nature brings , As flow spontaneous , like the 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 root-wove cell ? That every Fairy of our sprightly train Resorts , to bless the woodland , and the plain ; There , as we move , unbidden splendors glow , The green turf brightens , and the flowrets flow . There oft with thought sublime we bless the swain , Nor we inspire , nor he attends in vain . Go , simple rhymer , 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 ; Collect the flowers that own thy valu'd name , Unite the spoil , and give the wreath to Fame . Ne'er can thy morals , taste , or verse engage More solid fame , than in this happier age ; When sense , when virtue's cherish'd by the throne , And each illustrious privilege their own . Tho' modest be thy gentle muse , I ween , O , lead her , blushing , from the daisy'd green , A fit attendant on Britannia's queen ! " Ye sportive Elves , as faithful I relate , Th' entrusted mandates of your fairy state , Visit these wilds again with nightly care , So shall my kine , of all the herd , repair , In healthy plight , to fill the copious pail ; My sheep be penn'd with safety in the dale ; My poultry fear no robber in the roost ; My linen more than common whiteness boast ; Let order , peace , and housewif'ry be mine : Shenstone ! be taste , and fame , and fortune thine ! COTSWOULDIA .