But ah! the melancholy Jane,
A foul too tender for a queen!
She finks beneath imperial fway,
The dear-bought scepter of a day!
And muft fhe mount the scaffold drear?
Hard-hearted Mary, learn to spare!
Eliza next falutes the eye;
Exalt the song to Liberty,
The Muse repeats the facred name,
Eliza fills the voice of Fame.
From thence a bafer age began,
The royal ore polluted ran,
Till foreign Naffau's valiant hand
Chac'd holy tyrants from the land:
Downward from hence descend apace
To Brunswick's high, illuftrious race;
And fee the canvafs fpeaks them brave,
An injur'd nation born to save,
Active in Freedom's righteous cause,
And confcious of a juft applaufe.
But chiefly pleas'd, the curious eye,
With nice discernment loves to try
The labour'd wonders, paffing thought,
Which warm Italian pencils wrought;
Fables of love, and stories old,
By Greek or Latian poets told;
How Jove committed many a rape,
How young Acteon loft his shape;
Or what celestial pen-men writ,
Or what the painter's genuine wit
From Fancy's ftore-houfe could devife;
Where Raphael claims the highest prize.
Madonas here decline the head,
With fond maternal pleasure fed,
Or lift their lucid eyes above,
Where more is seen than holy love.
There temples ftand difplay'd within,
And pillars in long order feen,
And roofs rufh forward to the fight,
And lamps affect a living light,
Or landscapes tire the trav'ling eye,
The clouds in azure volumes fly,
The diftant trees diftinguifh'd rise,
And hills look little in the skies.
When day declines, and ev'ning cool
Begins her gentle, filent rule,
Again, as Fancy points the way,
Benignant leader, let me ftray:
And wilt thou, Genius, bring along
(So fhall my Muse exalt her fong)
The Lord who rules this ample scene,
His Confort too with gracious mien,
Her little offspring prattling round,
While Echo lifps their infant found.
And let Good-nature, born to please,
Wait on our steps, and graceful Eafe;
Nor Mirth be wanting as we walk,
Nor Wit to season fober talk;
Let gay Defcription too attend,
And Fable told with moral end,
And Satire quick that comes by ftealth,
And flowing Laughter, friend to Health.
Meanwhile Attention loves to mark
The deer that crop the fhaven park,
The fteep-brow'd hill, or foreft wild,
The floping lawns, and zephyrs mild,
The clouds that blush with ev'ning red,
Or meads with filver fountains fed,
The fragrance of the new-mown hay,
And black-bird chanting on the spray;
The calm farewel of parting light,
And Ev'ning fad'ning into Night.
Nor wearied yet my roving feet,
Tho' Night comes on amain, retreat;
But ftill abroad I walk unfeen
Along the ftar-enlighten'd green;
Superior joys my foul invite,
Lift, lift to heav'n the dazzled fight;
Lo, where the moon enthron'd on high,
Sits fteady emprefs of the sky,
Enticing nations to revere,
And proudly vain of pagan fear;
Or where thro' clouds fhe travels fast,
And feems on journey bent in hafte,
While thousand hand-maid stars await,
Attendant on their queen of state. "Tis now that in her high controul, Ambitious of a foreign rule,
She stirs the Ocean to rebel,
And factious waters fond to swell
Guides to battle in her carr,
'Gainft her fifter Earth to war.
Thus let me mufe on things fublime,
Above the flight of modern rhyme,
And call the foul of Newton down,
Where it fits high on ftarry throne,
Inventing laws for worlds to come,
Or teaching comets how to roam:
With him I'd learn of every ftar,
But four-ey'd Pedantry be far,
And Ignorance in garb of Sense,
With terms of art to make pretence.
Hail happy foil! illustrious earth!
Which gav'ft so many heroes birth;
Where never wand'ring poet trod,
But felt within th' inspiring God!
In these transporting, folemn fhades
First I falute th' Aonian maids.
Ah lead me, Genius, to thy haunts,
Where Philomel at ev'ning chants,
And as my oaten pipe resounds,
Give mufick to the forming founds.
A fimple fhepherd, yet unknown,
Aspires to snatch an ivy crown,
On daring pinions bold to foar,
Tho' here thy Waller fung before,
And Johnson dipt his learned pen,
And Sidney pour'd his fancy-flowing strain.
HCSSLICHOIX D
To a Friend in WALES.
E diftant realms that hold my friend
Beneath a cold ungenial sky,
Where lab'ring groves with weight of vapours bend,
Or raving winds o'er barren mountains fly;
Reftore him quick to London's focial clime,
Reftore him quick to friendship, love and joy;
Be fwift, ye lazy fteeds of Time,
Ye moments, all your speed employ.
Behold November's glooms arife,
Pale funs with fainter glory shine,
Dark gathering tempests blacken in the skies,
And shiv'ring woods their fickly leaves refign.
Is this a time on Cambrian hills to roam,
To court disease in Winter's baleful reign,
To listen to th' Atlantic foam,
While rocks repel the roaring main,
|