Relate, who first, who last resign'd to rest;

Whose heads she partly, whose completely bless'd;
What charms could faction, what ambition lull,
The venal quiet, and entrance the dull;

[wrongTill drown'd was sense, and shame, and right and O sing, and hush the nations with thy song!

In vain, in vain, the all-composing hour
Resistless falls! the muse obeys the power.
She comes! she comes! the sable throne behold
Of Night primeval, and of Chaos old!
Before her, fancy's gilded clouds decay,
And all its varying rainbows die away.
Wit shoots in vain, its momentary fires,
The meteor drops, and in a flash expires.
As one by one, at dread Medea's strain,

. The sickening stars fade off th' ethereal plain;
REMARKS.

630

Ver. 620. Wits have short memories,] This seems to be the reason why the poets, when they give us a catalogue, constantly call for help on the muses, who, as the daughters of memory, are obliged not to forget any thing. So Homer, Iliad B.

Πληθὺν δ ̓ οὐκ ἂν ἐγὼ μυθήσομαι οὐδ ̓ ὀνομήνω,

Εἰ μὴ Ὀλυμπιάδες Μούσαι, Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο
Θυγατέρες, μνησαίαθ

And Virgil, En. VII.

Et meministis enim, dive, et memorare potestis:
Ad nos vix tenuis famæ perlabitur aura.

But our poet had yet another reason for putting this task upon the muse, that, all besides being asleep, she only could relate what passed.-Scribl.

Ver. 624. The venal quiet, and,&c.] It were a problem worthy the solution of Mr. Ralph and his patron, who had lights that we know nothing of,-which required the greatest effort of our goddess's power, to entrance the dull, or to quiet the venal. For though the venal may be more unruly than the dull, yet, on the other hand, it demands a much greater expense of her virtue to entrance than barely to quiet.-Scribl.

Ver. 629. She comes! she comes! &c.] Here the muse, like Jove's eagle, after a sudden stoop at ignoble game, soareth again to the skies. As prophecy hath ever been one of the chief provinces of poesy, our poet here foretels from what we feel, what we are to fear; and, in the style of other prophets, hath used the future tense for the preterit; since what he says shall be, is already to be seen, in the writings of some even of our most adored authors, in divinity, philosophy, physics, metaphysics, &c. who are too good, indeed, to be named in such company.

Ibid. the sable throne behold-] The sable thrones of Night and Chaos, here represented as advancing to extinguish the light of the sciences, in the first place blot out the colours of fancy, and damp the fire of wit, before they proceed to their work.

As Argus' eyes, by Hermes' wand oppress'd,
Closed one by one to everlasting rest;
Thus at her felt approach, and secret might,
Art after art goes out, and all is night:
See skulking truth to her old cavern fled,
Mountains of casuistry heap'd o'er her head!
Philosophy, that lean'd on Heaven before,
Shrinks to her second cause, and is no more.
Physic of metaphysic begs defence,
And metaphysic calls for aid on sense!
See mystery to mathematics fly!

in vain! they gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die,
Religion blushing, veils her sacred fires,
And unawares morality expires.

Nor public flame, nor private, dares to shine:
Nor human spark is left, nor glimpse divine!
Lo! thy dread empire, Chaos! is restored!
Light dies before thy uncreating word:

Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall;
And universal darkness buries all.

REMARKS

640

650

Ver. 641. truth to her old cavern fled,] Alluding to the saying of Democritus, that Truth lay at the bottom of a deep well, from whence he had drawn her:' though Butler says, He first put her in, before he drew her out."

Ver. 649. Religion blushing veils her sacred fires,] Blushing as well at the memory of the past overflow of Dulness, when the barbarous learning of so many ages was wholly employed in corrupting the simplicity, and defiling the purity of religion, as at the view of these her false supports in the present; of which it would be endless to recount the particulars. However, amidst the extinction of all other lights, she is said only to withdraw hers! as hers alone in its own nature is unextinguishable

and eternal.

Ver. 650. And unawares morality expires.] It appears from hence that our poet was of very different sentiments from the author of the Characteristics, who has written a formal treatise on virtue, to prove it not only real but durable, without the support of religion. The word Unawares alludes to the confidence of those men, who suppose that morality would flourish best without it, and consequently to the surprise such would be in (if any such there are) who, indeed, love virtue, and yet do all they can to root out the religion of their country.

THE END.

Printed by J. F. Dove, St. John's Square.