A

GAIN the lab'ring hind inverts the foil;

Again the merchant ploughs the tumid wave ;

Another fpring renews the foldier's toil,

And finds me vacant in the rural cave.

As the foft lyre display'd my wonted loves,
The penfive pleasure and the tender pain,
The fordid ALPHEUS hurry'd thro' my groves;
Yet ftop'd to vent the dictates of difdain.

He glanc'd contemptuous o'er my ruin'd fold;
He blam'd the graces of my fav'rite bow'r;
My breaft, unfully'd by the luft of gold;
My time, unlavish'd in pursuit of pow'r.

Yes, ALPHEUS! fly the purer paths of fate;
Abjure these scenes from venal paffions free;
Know, in this grove, I vow'd perpetual hate,
War, endless war, with lucre and with thee.

Here nobly zealous, in my youthful hours,

I dreft an altar to THALIA's name :

Here as I crown'd the verdant fhrine with flow'rs,
Soft on my labours ftole the smiling dame.

DAMON, fhe cry'd, if pleas'd with honest praise,
Thou court fuccefs by virtue or by fong,
Fly the false dictates of the venal race;
Fly the grofs accents of the venal tongue.

Swear that no lucre fhall thy zeal betray;

Swerve not thy foot with fortune's vot❜ries more; Brand thou their lives, and brand their lifeless day... The winning phantom urg'd me, and I swore.

Forth from the ruftic altar fwift I stray'd,

66 Aid my firm purpose, ye celeftial pow'rs! Aid me to quell the fordid breast, I faid;

*

And threw my jav'lin tow'rds their hoftile tow'rs.

Think not regretful I furvey the deed;

Or added years no more the zeal allow; Still, still obfervant to the grove I fpeed,

The fhrine embellish, and repeat the VOW.

Sworn from his cradle ROME's relentless foe,
Such gen'rous hate the + Punic champion bore;

Thy lake, O THRASIMENE! beheld it glow,

And CANNA's walls, and TREBIA's crimson fhore.

*The Roman ceremony in declaring war.

+ HANNIBAL.

But

But let grave annals paint the warrior's fame;
Fair fhine his arms in history enroll❜d;
Whilft humbler lyres his civil worth proclaim,
His nobler hate of avarice and gold.-

Now Punic pride its final eve furvey'd;
Its hofts exhaufted, and its fleets on fire;
Patient the victors lurid frown obey'd,

And faw th' unwilling elephants retire.

But when their gold deprefs'd the yielding scale,
Their gold, in pyramidic plenty pil'd,

He faw th' unutterable grief prevail;

He saw their tears, and, in his fury, finil'd.

Think not, he cry'd, ye view the fmiles of eafe,
Or this firm breaft disclaims a patriot's pain;
I fmile, but from a foul eftrang'd to peace,
Frantic with grief, delirious with disdain!

But were it cordial, this detefted fmile,
Seems it lefs timely than the grief ye fhew?
O fons of CARTHAGE! grant me to revile
The fordid source of your indecent woe!

Why weep ye now!
ye faw with tearless eye
When your fleet perish'd on the Punic wave:

Where lurk'd the coward tear, the lazy figh,

When TYRE's imperial state commenc'd a slave ?

'Tis paft-OCARTHAGE! vanquish'd! honour'd shade!" Go, the mean forrows of thy fons deplore; Had freedom fhar'd the vow to fortune paid,

She ne'er, like fortune, had forfook thy fhore."

He ceas'd-abash'd the conscious audience hear;
Their pallid cheeks a crimson blush unfold;
Yet o'er that virtuous blufh diftreams a tear,
And falling moiftens their abandon'd gold. *

By the terms forced upon the CARTHAGINIANS by SCIPIO, they were to deliver up all the elephants, and to pay near two millions sterling,

ELEGY

He compares his humble fortune with the diftrefs of others; and his fubjection to DELIA, with the miferable fervitude of an African flave,

WHY droops this heart, with fancy'd woes forlorn?

Why finks my foul beneath each wintry sky?

What penfive crowds, by ceaseless labours worn,
What myriads, wish to be as bleft as !!

What tho'

my roofs devoid of pomp arise, Nor tempt the proud to quit his deftin'd way? Nor coftly art my flow'ry dales disguise,

Where only fimple friendship deigns to stray?

See the wild fons of LAPLAND's chill domain,
That scoop their couch beneath the drifted fnows!
How void of hope they ken the frozen plain,
Where the sharp eaft for ever, ever blows!

Slave tho' I be, to DELIA's eyes a flave,

My DELIA's eyes endear the bands I wear; The figh fhe caufes well becomes the brave, The pang fhe caufes, 'tis ev'n blifs to bear.