ODE to a WATER NYMPH. William Mason 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. T131163 K104099.003 Dodsley, Robert, 1703-1764. A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes. By Several Hands. Vol. III. London printed by J. Hughs, for R. and J. Dodsley 1763 [1st ed. 1758] pp. 297-300. 6v.: music; 8⁰.

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ODE to a WATER NYMPH . By Mr. MASON . YE green-hair'd nymphs ! whom PAN allows To tend this sweetly-solemn A seat near ** finely situated with a great command of water , but disposed in a very false taste , which gave occasion to this Ode . Wood , To speed the shooting scions into boughs , And call the roseate blossoms from the bud ; But chief , thou NAID , wont so long to lead This fluid crystal sparkling as it flows ; Whither , ah ! whither art thou fled ? What shade is conscious to thy woes ? Ah ! 'tis yon poplar's aweful gloom ; Poetick eyes can pierce the scene , Can see thy dropping head , thy with'ring bloom , See grief diffus'd o'er all thy languid mien . Well may'st thou wear misfortune's fainting air , Well rend those flow'ry honours from thy brow , Devolve that length of careless hair , And give yon azure veil to flow Loose to the wind . For ah ! thy pain The pitying Muse can well relate : Ah ! let her , plaintive , pour the tend'rest strain , To teach the Echoes thy disastrous fate . 'Twas where the alder's close-knit shade entwin'd ( What time the dog-star's fires intensely burn , ) In gentlest indolence reclin'd , Beside your ever-trickling urn You slept serene ; all free from fears , No friendly dream foretold your harm , When sudden , see ! the tyrant Art appears To snatch the liquid treasures from thy arm . Art , Gothick Art , has seiz'd thy darling vase , That vase which silver-slipper'd Thetis gave , For some soft story told with grace , Amid th' associates of the wave ; When in sequester'd coral vales , While worlds of waters roll'd above , The circling sea-nymphs told alternate tales Of fabled changes , and of slighted love . Ah ! loss too justly mourn'd ! for now the fiend Has on yon shell-wrought terras pois'd it high , And thence he bids its streams descend , With torturing regularity ; From step to step with sullen sound The forc'd cascades indignant leap , Till pent they sill the bason's measur'd round , There in a dull stagnation doom'd to sleep . Lost is the vocal pebble's gurgling song , The rill soft-dripping from its rocky spring , No free meander winds along , Or curls , when Zephyr waves his wing , These charms , alas ! are now no more — Fortune , oh ! give me to redeem The ravish'd vase ; oh ! give me to restore Its pristine honours to this hapless stream ! Then , Nymph , again , with all their native ease , Thy wanton waters , volatile and free , Shall wildly warble , as they please , Their soft loquacious harmony . Where-e'er they vagrant chuse to rove , There will I lead , not force their way , Whether to gloom beneath the shady grove , Or in the mead reflect the sparkling ray . Not HAGLEY'S various stream shall thine surpass , Tho' Nature , and her LYTTELTON ordain That there the NAID band shou'd grace With ev'ry watry charm the plain ; That there the frequent rills shou'd roll , And health to ev'ry flow'r dispense , Free as their master pours from all his soul The gen'rous tide of warm benevolence ; Shou'd now glide sweetly plaintive thro' the vale In melting murmurs querulously slow ; Soft as that master's love-lorn tale , When LUCY calls forth all his woe : Shou'd now from steepy heights descend , Deep thund'ring the rough rocks among , Loud as the praise applauding senates lend , When England's cause inspires his glowing tongue .