Full on my ear, and shakes my inmoft foul,
Description never could fo well deceive:
'Tis real! TROY is here, or I at TROY
Enjoy the war. My spirits, all on fire,
With unextinguish'd violence are borne
Above the world, and mingle with the gods.
Olympus rings with arms! the firmament,
Beneath the light'ning of Minerva's shield,
Burns to the center: rock the tow'rs of heav'n,
All nature trembles, fave the throne of JOVE.

To root exceffes from the human breast;
Behold a beauteous pile of Ethics rife ;
Senfe, the foundation; harmony, the walls;
(The Dorique grave, and gay Corinthian join'd)
Where SOCRATES and HORACE jointly reign,
Beft of philofophers! of poets too

The best! he teaches thee thy felf to know:
That virtue is the nobleft gift of heav'n :
"And vindicates the ways of GOD to man."
O hearken to the moralift polite!

Enter his fchool of truth: where PLATO's felf

Might preach; and TULLY deign to lend an ear.

i Ethic Epiftles.

Laft

Emerging from oblivion's muddy. pool,

Give the round face to view; and shameless front
Proudly expofe; 'till laughter have her fill.

Born to improve the age, and cheat mankind
Into the road of honour! - Vice again

The gilded chariot drives: - For he is dead!
I faw the fable barge, along his Thames,
In flow folemnity beating the tide,

Convey his facred duft! Its fwans expir'd;
Wither'd, in Twit'nam bow'rs, the laurel-bough;
Silent, the Mufes broke their idle lyres:

Th' attendant Graces check'd the sprightly dance,
Their arms unlock'd, and catch'd the starting tear :
And Virtue for her loft defender mourn'd!

* Dunciad.

The

The Cave of POPE. A Prophecy.

W

By RD-—.

HEN dark oblivion in her fable cloak

Shall wrap the names of heroes and of kings; And their high deeds fubmitting to the strake Of time shall fall amongst forgotten things:

Then (for the Mufe that diftant day can fee)
On Thames's bank the ftranger shall arrive,
With curious wifh thy facred grott to fee,

Thy facred grott fhall with thy name survive.

Grateful pofterity, from age to age,

With pious hand the ruin fhall repair:

Some good old man, to each enquiring fage

Pointing the place, fhall cry, "The Bard liv'd there,

"Whose song was mufic to the liftening ear,

Yet taught audacious vice and folly, fhame:

"Eafy his manners, but his life fevere;

"His word alone gave infamy or fame.

"Sequefter'd from the fool and coxcomb-wit, "Beneath this filent roof the Muse he found; 'Twas here he slept infpir'd, or fate and writ; Here with his friends the focial glass went round."

With aweful veneration shall they trace

The steps which thou so long before haft trod; With reverend wonder view the folemn place,

From whence thy genius foar'd to nature's God,

Then, fome small gem, or mofs, or fhining ore,
Departing, each fhall pilfer, in fond hope
To please their friends on every distant shore,
Boasting a relic from the Cave of POPE.