-O

my son,

Thrice in each moon; where rivers smoothly glide, Nor thundering torrents whirl the light canoe Down to the sea; where my forefathers feast Daily on hearts of Spaniards ! I feel the venom busy in my breast, Approach, and bring my crown, deck'd with the teeth Of that bold christian who first dar'd deflour The virgins of the sun ; and, dire to tell ! Robb'd PACHACAMAC's altar of its gems ! I mark'd the spot where they interr'd this traitor, And once at midnight stole I to his tomb, And tore his carcase from the earth, and left it A prey to poisonous fies. Preserve this crown With sacred secrecy: if e'er returns Thy much-lov'd mother from the desart woods, Where, as I hunted late, I hapless loft her, Cherish her age. Tell her I ne'er have worship'd With those that eat their God. And when disease Preys on her languid limbs, then kindly stab her With thine own hands, nor suffer her to linger, Like christian cowards, in a life of pain. I go! great Copac beckons me! farewel !

ODE occasion'd by Reading Mr. West's

Translation of PINDAR.

By the Same.

1. 1.

A

LBION exult! thy fons a voice divine have heard,

The man of Thebes hath in thy vales appeard!
Hark! with fresh rage and undiminish'd fire,
The sweet enthusiast smites the British lyre ;
The sounds that echoed on Alphéus' streams,
Reach the delighted ear of liftening Thames;

Lo! swift across the dusty plain
Great Theron's foaming coursers ftrain !

What mortal tongue e'er rolld along
Such full impetuous tides of nervous song?

1. 2.

The fearful, frigid lays of cold and creeping Art,

Nor touch, nor can transport th' unfeeling heart;
Pindar, our inmost bosom piercing, warms
With glory's love, and eager thirst of arms :
When Freedom speaks in his majestic strain,
The patriot-passions beat in every vein :

We

We long to fit with heroes old,
'Mid groves of vegetable gold,

• Where Cadmus and Achilles dwell, And still of daring deeds and dangers tell.

1. 3.

Away, enervate bards, away,
Who spin the courtly, filken lay,
• As wreaths for some vain Louis' head,
Or mourn some foft Adonis dead:

No more your polish'd lyrics boast,
In British Pindar's strength o'erwhelm'd and loft :

As well might ye compare
The glimmerings of a waxen flame,

(Emblem of verse correctly tame)
* To his own Ætna's sulphur-spouting caves,

When to heav'n's vault the fiery deluge raves, When clouds and burning rocks dart thro’the troubled air.

II. 1.
In roaring cataracts down Andes' channeld steeps

Mark how enormous Orellana sweeps !
Monarch of mighty foods! supremely strong,
Foaming from cliff to cliff he whirls along,

· See 2. Olym. Od.

Alluding to the French and Italian lyric poets.
Scc 1. Pyth. Od.

Swoln

P 3

Swoln with an hundred hills' collected snows:
Thence over nameless regions widely flows,

Round fragrant idles, and citron-groves,
Where still the naked Indian roves,

And safely builds his leafy bow'r,
From Navery far, and curst Iberian pow'r ;

II. 2.

So rapid Pindar Aows. - O parent of the lyre,

Let me for ever thy sweet sons admire !
O ancient Greece, but chief the bard whose lays
The matchless tale of Troy divine emblaze ;
And next Euripides, soft Pity's priest,
Who melts in useful woes the bleeding breast;

And him, who paints th' incestuous king,
Whose foul amaze and horror wring :

Teach me to taste their charms refin'd,
The richest banquet of th' enraptur'd mind :

II. 3•

For the blest man, the Muse's child
On whose auspicious birth she smild,
Whose foul she form'd of

purer fire,
For whom she tun'd a golden lyre,

Seeks not in fighting fields renown: No widows' midnight shrieks, nor burning town, . Hor. Od. 3. L. 4.

The

The peaceful poet please ;
Nor ceaseless toils for fordid gains,

Nor purple pomp, nor wide domains,
Nor heaps of wealth, nor power, nor statesman’s schemes,

Nor all deceiv'd Ambition's feverish dreams, Lure his contented heart from the sweet vale of ease.

举 ******************************

Τ Η Ε

PLEASURES of MELANCHOL Y.

Written in the Year 1745.

MOTH

By Mr. THOMAS WAR TO N.
OTHER of musings, Contemplation sage,
Whose
grotto
stands
upon

the topmost rock
Of Teneriff: 'mid the tempestuous night,
On which, in calmest meditation held,
Thou hear'st with howling winds the beating rain
And drifting hail descend; or if the skies
Unclouded shine, and through the blue serene
Pale Cynthia rolls her silver-axled car,
Whence gazing stedfast on the spangled vault
Raptur'd thou first, while murmurs indistinct
Of distant billows footh thy pensive ear

With

P 4