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Of ancient writ unlocks the learned store,
Consults the dead, and lives past ages o'er ;
Cr wand'ring thoughtful in the filent wood,
Attends the duties of the wife and good,
T'observe a mean, be to himself a friend,
To follow nature, and regard his end ;
Or looks on heav'n with more than mortal eyes,
Bids his free foul expatiate in the skies,
Amid her kindred ftars familiar roam,
Survey the region, and confefs her home!
Such was the life great Scipio once admir’d;
Thus Atticus, and Trumbal thus retir'd.

IBID. p. 48.

TH A M E S.

IN that bleft moment, from his oozy bed Old father Thames advanc'd his rev'rend head. His treffes dropp'd with dews, and o'er the stream His shining horns diffus'd a golden gleam : Grav'd on his urn appear'd the Moon, that guides His swelling waters, and alternate tides ; The figur'd Atreams in waves of silver roll’d, And on her banks Augufta rose in gold; Around his throne the sea-born Brothers stood, Who swell with tributary urns his flood ! First the fam'd authors of his ancient name, The winding Ifis, and the fruitful Thame : The Kennet swift, for filver eels renown'd; The Loddon flow, with verdant alders crown'd;

Coln,

Coln, whose dark streams his flow?ry islands lave;
And chalky Wey, that rolls a milky wave:
The blue transparent Vandalis appears ;
The gulphy Lee his sedgy tresses rears ;
And sullen Mile, that hides his diving food;
And filent Darent; staind with Danish blood.

High in the midst, upon his urn reclin'd,
(His sea-green mantle waving with the wind)
The God appear’d: he turn’d his azure eyes
Where Windsor-domes and pompous turrets rise !
Then bow'd and spoke; the winds forget to roar,
Apd the hushid waves glide softly to the shore.

IBID. p. 52

5

PE AC. E.
OH, stretch thy reign, fair Peace! from shore te

fhore,
Till Conquest cease, and Slav'ry be no more ;
Till the freed Indians, in their native groves,
Reap their own fruits, and woo their fable loves s',
Peru once more a race of kings behold,
And other Mexicos be roof'd with gold.
Exil'd by thee from earth to deepest hell,
In brazen bonds, shall barb'rous Discord dwell:
Gigantic Pride, pale Terror, gloomy Care,
And mad Ambition shall attend her there :
There purple Vengeance bath'd in gore retires,
Her weapons blunted, and extinct her fires :.

There

There hateful Envy her own snakes shall feel,
And Persecution mourn her broken wheel :
There Faction roar, Rebellion bite her chain,
And gafping Furies thirit for blood in vain.

IBID. P. 55.

ODE FOR MUSIC

ON

ST. CECILIA'S DAY.

I.
DESCEND, ye Nine! descend, and fing;
The breathing instruments inspire;
Wake into voice each filent string,
And sweep the founding lyre!

In a sadly-pleasing strain
Let the warbling lute complain :

Let the loud trumpets sound,
"Till the roofs all around

T'he Thrill echoes rebound:
While in more lengthen’d notes, and now,
The deep, majestic, folemn organs blow. .

Hark! the numbers soft and clear
Gently steal upon the ear ;
Now louder, and yet louder rise,

And fill with spreading sounds the skies.
Exulting in triumph now swell the bold notes :
In broken air, trembling, the wild mufic Hoats;

"Till,

'Till, by degrees, remote and small,

The strains decay,

And melt away

In a dying, dying fall.

II.
By Mufic, minds an equal temper know,

Nor swell too high, nor sink too low.
If in the breast tumultuous joys arise,
Music her soft afi'uasive voice applies ;

Or, when the soul is press’d with cares,

Exalts her in enlivening airs.
Warriors she fires with animated sounds;
Pours balm into the bleeding lover's wounds;

Melancholy lifts her head,
Morpheus rouses from his bed,
Sloth unfolds her arms, and wakes,

Lift'ning Envy drops her snakes ;
Inteftine War no more our passions wage,
And giddy Factions hear away their rage.

III.

But when our Country's cause provokes to arms,
How martial music every bosom warms !
So, when the firft bold vessel dar'd the seas,
High on the stern the Thracian rais!d his ftrain,

While Argo saw her kindred trees
Defcend from Pelion to the main.
Transported demi-gods stood round,
And men grew heroes at the found,

Inflam'd

Inflam'd with glory's charms :
Each chief his fev’nfold fhield display'd,
And half unsheath'd the shining blade ;
And feas, and rocks, and skies rebound,

To arms! to arms! to arms!

IV.
But when through all th'infernal bounds
Which flaming Phlegeton surrounds,
Love, strong as Death, the Poets led
To the pale nations of the dead,

What sounds were heard,

What scenes appear’d,
O'er all the dreary coasts !

Dreadful gleams,
Dismal screams,
Fires that glow,
Shrieks of woe,
Sullen moans,

Hollow groans,
And cries of tortur'd ghosts!
But, hark! he strikes the golden lyre 3
And, see! the tortur'd ghosts respire ;

See, shady forms advance !
Thy stone, O Sisyphus! stands still,
Ixion refts upon his wheel,

And the pale spectres dance !
The Furies fink upon their iron beds,
And snakes uncurl'd hang liftning round their

heads.

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