Contemplative, we thread the flow'ry Plain,
The Mufe preceding with her heav'nly Train.
When, lo! the Mendicant, fo late behind,
Strange View! now journeying in our Front we find!
And yet a View more strange our Heed demands;
Touch'd by the Mufe's Wand transform`d he stards.
O'er Skin late-wrinkled, inftant Beauty fpreads;
The late-dimm'd Eye, a vivid Luftre sheds;
Hairs, once fo thin, now graceful Locks decline;
And Rags now chang'd, in regal Veltments shine.
The Hermit thus. In him the BARD behold,
Once feeh by Midnight's Lamp in Winter's Cold;
The Bard, whofe Want fo multiplied his Woes,
He funk a Mortal, and a Seraph rose.
See! where thofe ftately Yew-Trees darkling grow,
And, waving o'er yon Graves, brown Horrors throw,
Scornful he points-there, o'er his facred Duft,
Arife the sculptur'd Tomb, and labour'd Bust.
Vain Pomp! bestow'd by oftentatious Pride,
Who to a Life of Want Relief deny'd.
But thus the Bard. Are these the Gifts of State? Gifts unreceiv'd!-Thefe? Ye ungen'rous Great! How was I treated when in Life forlorn?
My Claim your Pity; but my Lot your Scorn.
Why were my ftudious Hours oppos'd by Need?
In me did Poverty from Guilt proceed?
Did I contemporary Authors wrong.
And deem their Worth, but as they priz❜d my Song?
Did I footh Vice, or venal ftrokes betray
In the low-purpos'd, loud polemic Fray?
Did e'er my Verse immodest Warmth contain,
Or, once licentious, heav'nly Truths prophane?
Never. And yet when Envy funk my Name,
Who call'd my fhadow'd Merit into Fame ?
When undeferv'd a Prison's Grate I faw,
What Hand redeem'd me from the wrefted Law?
Who cloath'd me naked, or when hungry fed?
Why crush'd the Living? Why extoll'd the Dead?
But foreign Languages adopt my Lays,
And distant Nations fhame you into Praise.
Why fhou'd unrelifh'd Wit thefe Honours caufe?
Custom, not Knowledge, dictates your Applause :
Or think you thus a felf-Renown to raise,
And mingle your Vain-Glories with my Bays?
Be Your's the mould'ring Tomb! Be mine the Lay
Immortal!-Thus he fcoffs the Pomp away.
Tho' Words like these unletter'd Pride impeach, To the meek Heart he turns with milder Speech. Tho' now a Seraph, oft he deigns to wear. The Face of human Friendship, oft of Care;
To walk difguis'd an Object of Relief,
A learn'd, good Man, long exercis'd in Grief;
Forlorn, a friendless Orphan oft to roam,
Craving fome kind, fome hofpitable Home ;
Or, like Ulyffes, a low Lazar ftand,
Befeeching Pity's Eye, and Bounty's Hand;
Or, like Ulyffes, Royal Aid request,
Wand'ring from Court to Court, a King diftreft.
Thus varying Shapes, the seeming Son of Woe
Eyes the cold Heart, and Hearts that gen'rous glow;
Then to the Muse relates each lordly Name,
Who deals impartial Infamy, and Fame.
Oft, as when Man, in mortal ftate depress'd,
His Lays taught Virtue, which his Life confefs'd,
He now forms vifionary Scenes below,
Inspiring Patience in the Heart of Woe;
Patience that foftens every fad Extreme,↑
That cafts thro' Dungeon-Glooms a chearful Gleam,
Difarms Disease of Pain, mocks Slander's Sting,
And strips of Terrors the terrific King,
'Gainst Want, a fourer Foe, its Succour lends,
And fmiling fees th' Ingratitude of Friends.
Nor are these Tasks to him alone confign'd,
Millions invifible befriend Mankind.
When watry Structures, feen cross Heav'n t'ascend,
Arch above Arch in radiant Order bend,
G
Fancy beholds, a-down each glitt'ring Side,
Myriads of miffionary Seraphs glide;
She fees good Angels genial Show'rs beftow
From the red Convex of the dewy Bow.
They smile
upon the Swain: He views the Prize;
Then grateful bends, to bless the bounteous Skies.
Some Winds collect, and fend propitious Gales
Oft where Britannia's Navy fpreads her Sails;
There ever wafting, on the Breath of Fame,
Unequal❜d Glory in her Sovereign's Name.
Some teach young Zephyrs vernal Sweets to hear,
And float the balmy Health on ambient Air;
Zephyrs, that oft, where Lovers lift'ning lie,
Along the Grove in melting Mufic die,
And in lone Caves to Minds poetic roll
Seraphic Whifpers, that abftract the Soul.
Some range the Colours, as they parted fly,
Clear-pointed to the philofophic Eye;
The flaming Red, that pains the dwelling Gaze;
The ftainless, lightfome Yellow's gilding Rays;
The clouded Orange, that betwixt them glows,
And to kind Mixture tawny Luftre owes ;
All-chearing Green, that gives the Spring its Dye;
The bright, tranfparent Blue, that robes the Sky;
And Indico, which fhaded Light displays;
And Violet, which in the View decays.
Parental Hues, whence Others all proceed;
An ever-mingling, changeful, countless Breed;
Unravel'd, variegated, Lines of Light,
When blended, dazzling in promifcuous White.
Oft thro' thefe Bows departed Spirits range,
New to the Skies, admiring at their Change;
Each Mind a Void, as when firft-born to Earth,
Beheld a fecond Blank in fecond Birth;
Then, as yon Seraph-Bard fram'd Hearts below,
Each fees him here tranfcendant Knowledge fhow,
New Saints he tutors into Truth refin'd,
And tunes to rapt'rous Love the new-form'd Mind.
He fwells the Lyre, whofe loud, melodious Lays
Call high Hofannabs from the Voice of Praife;
Tho' one bad Age fuch Poëfy cou'd wrong,
Now Worlds around retentive roll the Song:
Now God's high Throne the full-voic'd Raptures gain,
Celestial Hofts returning Strain for Strain.
Thus he, who once knew Want without Relief,
Sees Joys refulting from well-fuff'ring Grief.
Hark! while we talk, a diftant, patt'ring Rain
Refounds! See! up the broad etherial Plain
Shoots the bright Bow!-The Seraph flits away;
The Muse, the Graces from our View decay.
Behind yon western Hill the Globe of Light Drops fudden; faft-purfued by Shades of Night.
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