Charm'd by these strings, trees ftarting from the ground,

Have follow'd with delight the powerful found.
Thus confecrated, thy Grynæan grove

Shall have no equal in Apollo's love.

Why should I speak of the Megarian maid,
For love perfidious, and by love betray'd?

And her, who round with barking monsters arm'd,
The wandering Greeks (ah frighted men !) alarm'd
Whofe only hope on fhatter'd ships depends,
While fierce fea-dogs devour the mangled friends.
Or tell the Thracian tyrant's alter'd shape,
And dire revenge of Philomela's rape,
Who to thofe woods directs her mournful course,
Where the had fuffer'd by incestuous force,
While, loth to leave the palace too well known,
Progné flies, hovering round, and thinks it ftill her own?
Whatever near Eurota's happy ftream

With laurels crown'd, had been Apollo's theme,
Silenus fings; the neighbouring rocks reply,
And fend his myftic numbers through the sky;
Till night began to fpread her gloomy veil,
And call'd the counted sheep from every dale;
The weaker light unwillingly declin'd,

And to prevailing fhades the murmuring world refign'd.

ODE

ODE UPON SOLITUD E.

I.

HAIL, facred Solitude! from this calm bay,

I view the world's tempeftuous fea,

And with wife pride despise

All thofe fenfelefs vanities:

With pity mov'd for others, caft away

On rocks of hopes and fears, I see them tofs'd
On rocks of folly, and of vice, I fee them loft:
Some the prevailing malice of the great,

Unhappy men or adverse Fate,

Sunk deep into the gulphs of an afflicted ftate.
But more, far more, a numberlefs prodigious train,
Whilft Virtue courts them, but alas in vain,

Fly from her kind embracing arms,

Deaf to her fondeft call, blind to her greatest charms, And, funk in pleasures and in brutish ease,

They in their fhipwreck'd ftate themselves obdurate pleafe.

II.

Hail, facred Solitude! foul of my foul,

It is by thee I truly live,

Thou dost a better life and nobler vigour give;

Doft each unruly appetite control :

Thy constant quiet fills my peaceful breast,

With unmix'd joy, uninterrupted rest.

Prefuming love does ne'er invade

This private' folitary shade;

And, with fantastic wounds by beauty made,

The joy has no allay of jealousy, hope, and fear,
The folid comforts of this happy sphere:

Yet I exalted Love admire,

Friendship, abhorring fordid gain,

And purify'd from Luft's dishonest stain :
Nor is it for my folitude unfit,

For I am with my friend alone,

As if we were but one;

'Tis the polluted love that multiplies,
But friendship does two fouls in one comprise.

III.

Here in a full and conftant tide doth flow

All bleffings man can hope to know; Here in a deep recefs of thought we find

Pleafures which entertain, and which exalt the mind; Pleafures which do from friendship and from know

ledge rife,

Which make us happy, as they make us wife :
Here may I always on this downy grafs,
Unknown, unfeen, my eafy minutes pafs:
Till with a gentle force victorious death
My folitude invade,

And, ftopping for a while my breath,
With ease convey me to a better fhade.

THE

THE

TWENTY-SECOND ODE

O F THE

FIRST BOOK OF HORAC E.

VIRTUE, dear friend, needs no defence,

The fureft guard is innocence:

None knew, till guilt created fear,
What darts or poifon'd arrows were.
Integrity undaunted goes

Through Libyan fands and Scythian fnows,
Or where Hydafpes' wealthy fide

Pays tribute to the Persian pride.

For as (by amorous thoughts betray'd)
Careless in Sabine woods I ftray'd,
A grifly foaming wolf unfed,

Met me unarm'd, yet trembling fled.
No beast of more portentous fize

In the Hercinian foreft lies;
None fiercer, in Numidia bred,
With Carthage were in triumph led.
Set me in the remotest place,
That Neptune's frozen arms embrace;
Where angry Jove did never spare
One breath of kind and temperate air.
Set me where on some pathless plain
The fwarthy Africans complain,

To

To fee the chariot of the Sun

So near their fcorching country run.
The burning zone, the frozen ifles,
Shall hear me fing of Cælia's fmiles :
All cold but in her breast I will defpife,
And dare all heat but that in Cælia's eyes..

THE SAME IMITATED.

Ꮩ

I.

IRTUE (dear friend) needs no defence,

No arms,
Quivers and bows, and poifon'd darts,
Are only us'd by guilty hearts.

but its own innocence:

II.

An honeft mind safely alone

May travel through the burning zone;
Or through the deepest Scythian fnows,
Or where the fam'd Hydafpes flows.

III.

While, rul'd by a refiftless fire,
Our great + Orinda I admire,

The hungry wolves that fee me stray,
Unarm'd and fingle, run away.