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THE

JUDGMENT of HERCULE S.

WE

Hile blooming spring defcends from genial skies, By whose mild influence instant wonders rise; From whose soft breath Elyfian beauties flow; The sweets of HAGLEY, or the pride of STOWE; Will LYTTELTON the rural landskip range, Leave noify fame, and not regret the change? Pleas'd will he tread the garden's early scenes, And learn a moral from the rifing greens? There, warm'd alike by Sol's enliv'ning pow'r, The weed, afpiring, emulates the flow'r : The drooping flow'r, its fairer charms difplay'd, Invites, from grateful hands, their gen'rous aid:

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Soon, if none check th' invasive foe's defigns,
The lively luftre of these scenes declines!

'Tis thus, the spring of youth, the morn of life, Rears in our minds the rival feeds of ftrife.

!

Then paffion riots, reafon then contends;
And, on the conqueft, ev'ry bliss depends:
Life, from the nice decifion, takes its hue:
And bleft thofe judges who decide like you
On worth like theirs fhall ev'ry blifs attend ;
The world their fav'rite, and the world their friend,
There are, who blind to thought's fatiguing ray,
As fortune gives examples, urge their way:
Not virtue's foes, tho' they her paths decline,
And scarce her friends, tho' with her friends they join,
In her's, or vice's cafual road advance
Thoughtless, the finners or the faints of chance!
Yet fome more nobly scorn the vulgar voice;
With judgment fix, with zeal pursue their choice,
When ripen'd thought, when reafon born to reign,
Checks the wild tumults of the youthful vein;
While paffion's lawless tides, at their command,
Glide thro' more ufeful tracts, and blefs the land.
Happiest of these is he whose matchless mind,
By learning ftrengthen'd, and by taste refin'd,
In virtue's cause effay'd its earliest pow'rs;
Chofe virtue's paths, and strew'd her paths with flow'rs.
The first alarm'd, if freedom waves her wings:
The fittest to adorn each art fhe brings :

Lov'd

Lov'd by that prince whom ev'ry virtue fires:
Prais'd by that bard whom ev'ry muse inspires:
Bleft in the tuneful art, the focial flame;

In all that wins, in all that merits fame!

'Twas youth's perplexing stage his doubts inspir'd,
When great ALCIDES to a grove retir'd.
Thro' the lone windings of a devious glade,
Refign'd to thought, with ling'ring steps he stray'd;
Bleft with a mind to taste fincerer joys:

Arm'd with a heart each falfe one to despise.
Dubious he ftray'd, with wav'ring thoughts poffeft,
Alternate paffions struggling fhar'd his breast;
The various arts which human cares divide,
In deep attention all his mind employ'd :
Anxious, if fame an equal blifs fecur'd;

Or filent eafe with fofter charms allur'd.

The filvan choir whofe numbers fweetly flow'd,
The fount that murmur'd, and the flow'rs that blow'd;
The filver flood that in meanders led

His glitt'ring ftreams along th' enliven'd mead,
The foothing breeze, and all those beauties join'd,
Which, whilft they please, effeminate the mind.
In vain! while diftant, on a fummit rais'd,
Th' imperial tow'rs of fame attractive blaz❜d.
While thus he trac'd thro' fancy's puzzling maze
The fep'rate sweets of pleasure, and of praise;
Sudden the wind a fragrant gale convey'd,
And a new luftre gain'd upon the fhade.

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At once, before his wond'ring eyes were feen
Two female forms, of more than mortal mien.
Various their charms; and, in their dress and face,
Each feem'd to vie with fome peculiar grace.
This, whofe attire lefs clogg'd with art appear❜d,
The fimple fweets of innocence endear'd.
Her fprightly bloom, her quick fagacious eye,
Shew'd native merit mix'd with modesty.
Her air diffus'd a mild yet aweful ray,
Severely fweet, and innocently gay.
Such the chafte image of the martial maid,
In artless folds of virgin white array'd!

She let no borrow'd rose her cheeks adorn,
Her blufhing cheeks, that fham'd the purple morn
Her charms nor had, nor wanted artful foils,
Or ftudy'd geftures, or well-practis'd smiles.
She fcorn'd the toys which render beauty less;
She prov'd th' engaging chastity of drefs;
And while fhe chofe in native charms to fhine,
Ev'n thus she seem'd, nay more than seem'd, divine.
One modeft em'rald clafp'd the robe she wore,
And, in her hand, th' imperial fword fhe bore.
Sublime her height, majestic was her pace,
And match'd the aweful honours of her face.
The shrubs, the flow'rs, that deck'd the verdant ground,
Seem'd, where she trod, with rifing luftre crown'd.
Still her approach with ftronger influence warm'd;
She pleas'd, while diftant, but, when near, the charm'd.

So

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