Of licens'd murder. Ev'n the kindest prince,
The most extended breast, the royal HAL!
All unrelenting heard the Lollards cry

Burft from the center of remorseless flames;
Their fhrieks endur'd! Oh ftain to martial praise!
When COBHAM, gen'rous as the noble peer
That wears his honours, pay'd the fatal price
Of virtue blooming ere the ftorms were laid!
'Twas thus, alternate, truth's precarious flame
Decay'd or flourish'd. With malignant eye
The pontiff faw BRITANNIA's golden fleece,
Once all his own, inveft her worthier fons !
Her verdant valleys, and her fertile plains,
Yellow with grain abjure his hateful sway!
Effay'd his utmost art, and inly own'd
No labours bore proportion to the prize.

So when the tempter view'd, with envious eye,
The first fair pattern of the female frame,
All nature's beauties in one form display'd,
And cent'ring there, in wild amaze he stood;
Then only envying heav'n's creative hand:
Wish'd to his gloomy reign his envious arts
Might win this prize, and doubled ev'ry snare.
And vain were reason, courage, learning, all,
Till pow'r accede: till TUDOR's wild caprice
Smile on their caufe; TUDOR, whofe tyrant reign
With mental freedom crown'd, the beft of kings
Might envious view, and ill prefer their own!

Then from its tow'ring height with horrid found

Rufh'd the proud abby. Then the vaulted roofs,
Torn from their walls, difclos'd the wanton fcene
Of monkish chastity! Each angry friar

Crawl'd from his bedded ftrumpet, mutt'ring low
An ineffectual curfe. The pervious nooks
That, ages paft, convey'd the guileful prieft
To play fome image on the gaping crowd,
Imbibe the novel day-light; and expofe
Obvious, the fraudful engin❜ry of ROME.
As tho' this op'ning earth to nether realms
Shou'd flash meridian day, the hooded race
Shudder abash'd to find their cheats display'd:
And confcious of their guilt, and pleas'd to wave
Its fearful meed, resign'd their fair domain.

Nor yet fupine, nor void of rage, retir'd
The peft gigantic; whofe revengeful stroke
Ting'd the red annals of MARIA's reign.
When from the tenderest breast, each wayward priest
Cou'd banish mercy, and implant a fiend!
When cruelty the fun'ral pyre uprear'd,

And bound religion there, and fir'd the base!
When the fame blaze, which on each tortur'd limb
Fed with luxuriant rage, in ev'ry face
Triumphant faith appear'd, and smiling hope.
O bleft ELIZA! from thy piercing beam
Forth flew this hated fiend, the child of ROME;
Driv'n to the verge of ALBION, linger'd there,
Then with her JAMES receding, caft behind
One angry frown, and fought more fervile climes.
Hence-

Henceforth they ply'd the long-continued task
Of righteous havoc, cov'ring diftant fields
With the wrought remnants of the shatter'd pile.
Then WOLSEY rofe, by nature form'd to feek
Ambition's trophies, by addrefs to win,
By temper to enjoy-whofe humbler birth
Taught the gay scenes of pomp to dazzle more.
While thro' the land the mufing pilgrim fees
A tract of brighter green, and in the midst
Appears a mouldering wall, with ivy crown'd;
Or gothic turret, pride of ancient days!
Now but of ufe to grace a rural scene;
To bound our viftas, and to glad the fons
Of GEORGE's reign, referv'd for fairer times!

LOVE AND HONOUR.

Sed neque Medorum filva, ditiffima terra,
Nec pulcher Ganges, atque auro turbidus Hamus,
Laudibus Angligenûm certent: non Baltra, nec Indi,
Totaque turriferis Panchaia pinguis arenis.

olive glad Hefperian fhores;

Her tawny citron, and her

orange-groves,

These let IBERIA boaft; but if in vain,
To win the stranger plant's diffusive smile,
The BRITON labours, yet our native minds,
Our constant bofoms, these, the dazled world

VOL. I.

Y

May

May view with envy'; thefe, Iberian dames
Survey with fixt efteem and fond defire.

Haplefs ELVIRA! thy difaftrous fate
May well this truth explain; nor ill adorn
The British lyre; then chiefly, if the mufe,
Nor vain nor partial, from the fimple guife
Of ancient record catch the penfive lay;
And in lefs groveling accents give to fame.
ELVIRA! loveliest maid! th' Iberian realm
Could boast no purer breaft, no fprightlier mind,
No race more fplendent, and no form fo fair.
Such was the chance of war, this peerless maid
In life's luxuriant bloom, enrich'd the spoil
Of British victors, vict'ry's nobleft pride!
She, fhe alone, amid the wailful train,
Of captive maids, affign'd to HENRY's care;
Lord of her life, her fortune, and her fame!

He, gen'rous youth, with no penurious hand,
The tedious moments that unjoyous roll
Where freedom's chearful radiance fhines no more,
Effay'd to foften; confcious of the pang
That beauty feels, to wafte its fleeting hours
In fome dim fort, by foreign rule restrain'd,
Far from the haunts of men, or eye

of day! Sometimes, to cheat her bofom of its cares, Her kind protector number'd o'er the toils Himself had worn the frowns of angry feas, Or hoftile rage, or faithlefs friend, more fell Than storm or foe: if haply fhe might find

Her cares diminish'd; fruitlefs fond effay !
Now to her lovely hand, with modest awe
The tender lute he gave: fhe not averfe
Nor deftitute of fkill, with willing hand
Call'd forth angelic ftrains; the facred debt
Of gratitude, she said, whofe juft commands
Still might her hand with equal pride obey!

Nor to the melting founds the nymph refus'd
Her vocal art; harmonious, as the strain
Of fome imprison'd lark, who daily chear'd
By guardian cares, repays them with a fong:
Nor droops, nor deems fweet liberty refign'd.

The fong, not artlefs, had she fram'd to paint
Difaftrous paffion; how, by tyrant laws
Of idiot custom sway'd, fome soft-ey'd fair
Lov'd only one; nor dar'd their love reveal!
How the foft anguifh banish'd from her cheek
The damaík rofe full-blown; a fever came;
And from her bofom forc'd the plaintive tale.
Then, fwift as light, he fought the love-lorn maid,
But vainly fought her; torn by fwifter fate
To join the tenants of the myrtle fhade,
Love's mournful victims on the plains below.
Sometimes, as fancy spoke the pleafing task,
She taught her artful needle to display

The various pride of spring: then swift upfprung
Thickets of myrtle, eglantine, and rofe:
There might you fee, on gentle toils intent,
A train of bufy loves; fome pluck the flow'r,