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O GIBBS, whofe Art the folemn Fane can raife, Where GOD delights to dwell, and Man to praise ; When moulder'd thus the Column falls away, Like fome great Prince, majeftic in Decay; When Ignorance, and Scorn the Ground fhall tread, Where Wisdom tutor'd, and Devotion pray'd; Where fhall thy pompous Work our Wonder claim? What, but the Muse alone, preserve thy Name?

The Sun fhines, broken, thro' yon Arch, that rears
This once-round Fabric, half-depriv'd by Years,
Which rose a stately Colonade, and crown'd
Encircling Pillars, now unfaithful found;

In Fragments, these the Fall of those forbode,
Which, nodding, juft up-heave their crumbling Load.
High, on yon Column, which has batter'd ftood
Like fome stripp'd Oak, the Grandeur of the Wood,
The Stork inhabits her aërial Neft;

By her are Liberty and Peace careft;

She flies the Realms, that own defpotick Kings,
And only spreads o'er free-born States her Wings.
The Roof is now the Daw's, or Raven's Haunt,
And loathfome Toads in the dark Entrance pant;
Or Snakes, that lurk to fnap the heedless Fly,
And fated Bird, that oft comes flutt'ring by.

An Aqueduct across yon Vale is laid, It's Channel thro' a ruin'd Arch betray'd;

2

Whirl'd

Whirl'd down a Steep, it flies with Torrent-Force,
Flashes, and roars, and plows a devious Course.

Attracted Mists a golden Cloud commence, While thro' high-colour'd Air strîke Rays intense, Betwixt two Points, which yon steep Mountains show, Lies a mild Bay, to which kind Breezes flow. Beneath a Grotto, arch'd for calm Retreat, Leads length'ning in the Rock-Be this my Seat. Heat never enters here; but Coolness reigns O'er Zephyrs, and diftilling, watry Veins. Secluded now I trace th' instructive Page, And live o'er Scenes of many a backward Age; Thro' Days, Months, Years, thro' Time's whole

Course I run,

And present stand where Time itself begun.

Ye mighty Dead of juft, diftinguifh'd Fame,
Your Thoughts, (ye bright Inftructers!) here I claim.
Here ancient Knowledge opens Nature's Springs;
Here Truths hiftoric give the Hearts of Kings.
Hence Contemplation learns white Hours to find,
And labours Virtue on th' attentive Mind.

O lov'd Retreat! thy Joys Content bestow,
Nor Guilt, nor Shame, nor sharp Repentance know.
What the fifth Charles long aim'd in Power to fee,
That Happiness he found referv'd in Thee.

Now

Now let me change the Page Here Tully weeps,
While in Death's icy Arms his Tullia fleeps,
His Daughter dear! - Retir'd I fee him mourn,
By all the Frenzy now of Anguish torn.

Wild his Complaint! Nor sweeter Sorrow's Strains,
When Singer for Alexis loft complains.
Each Friend condoles, expoftulates, reproves :
More than a Father raving Tally loves;
Or Salluft cenfures thus!-Unheeding Blame,
He schemes a Temple to his Tullia's Name.
Thus o'er my Hermit once did Grief prevail,
Thus rofe Olympia's Tomb, his moving Tale,
The Sighs, Tears, frantic Starts, that banish Reft,
And all the bursting Sorrows of his Breast.

But hark! a fudden Pow'r attunes the Air! Th' inchanting Sound enamour'd Breezes bear; Now low, now high, they fink, or lift the Song, Which the Cave echoes fweet, and fweet the Creeks prolong.

I liften'd, gaz'd, when, wondrous to behold! From Ocean fteam'd, a Vapour gath'ring roll❜d : A blue, round Spot on the Mid-roof it came, Spread broad, and redden'd into dazzling Flame. Full-orb'd it fhone, and dimm'd the fwimming Sight, While doubling Objects danc'd with darkling Light.

Amaz'd

Amaz'd I ftood!-amaz'd I ftill remain !

What earthly Pow'r this Wonder can explain?
Gradual at length the Luftre dies away :
My Eyes reftor❜d a mortal Form furvey.

My Hermit-Friend? "Tis He.-All hail! (he cries)
I fee, and would alleviate, thy Surprize.

The vanish'd Meteor was Heaven's Meffage meant,
To warn thee hence; I knew the high Intent.
Hear then! In this fequefter'd Cave retir'd,
Departed Saints converse with Men inspir'd.
"Tis facred Ground; nor can thy Mind endure,
Yet unprepar'd, an Intercourse so pure.
Quick let us hence-And now extend thy Views
Q'er yonder Lawn; there find the Heav'n-born Mufe!
Or feek her, where the trufts her tuneful Tale
To the mid, filent Wood, or vocal Vale;

Where Trees half check the Light with trembling
Shades,

Clofe in deep Glooms, or open clear in Glades ;

Or where surrounding Viftas far descend,
The Landfcape varied at each lefs'ning End!
She, only She can mortal Thought refine,
And raife thy Voice to Vifitants divine.

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THE

WANDERER.

W

A

VISIO N.

CANTO V.

E left the Cave. Be Fear (faid I) defied!

Virtue (for thou art Virtue) is my Guide.

By time-worn Steps a steep Afcent we gain, Whofe Summit yields a Prospect o'er the Plain. There, bench'd with Turf, an Oak our Seat extends, Whose Top a verdant, branch'd Pavilion bends. Vistas with Leaves diverfify the Scene,

Some pale, fome brown, and fome of lively green.

Now, from the full-grown Day a beamy Shower Gleams on the Lake, and gilds each gloffy Flower.

Gay

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