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So the rich foil of India's blooming shores,

Adorn'd with lavish nature's choicest ftores,
Where ferpents lurk, by flow'rs conceal'd from fight,
Hides fatal danger under gay delight.

These purer thoughts from grofs alloys refin'd,
With heav'nly raptures elevate the mind:
Not fram'd to raise a giddy short-liv'd joy,
Whofe falfe allurements, while they please, destroy;
But bliss resembling that of faints above,
Sprung from the vision of th' Almighty Love:
Firm, folid bliss, for ever great and new,

The more 'tis known, the more admir'd like you;
Like you, fair nymph, in whom united meet
Endearing sweetness, unaffected wit,

And all the glories of your sparkling race,
While inward virtues heighten ev'ry grace.
By these fecur'd, you will with pleasure read
Of future judgment, and the rifing dead;

Of time's grand period, heav'n and earth o'erthrown ;
And gafping nature's laft tremendous groan.
Thefe, when the ftars and fun fhall be no more,
Shall beauty to your ravag'd form restore :
Then shall you shine with an immortal ray,
Improv'd by death, and brighten'd by decay.

Pemb. Coll.
Oxon.

T. TRISTRAM.

To

Το THE

AUTHOR,

On his LAST DAY and UNIVERSAL PASSION.

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ND muft it be as thou haft fung,
Celestial bard, feraphic YOUNG?
Will there no trace, no point be found
Of all this fpacious glorious round ?
Yon lamps of light, must they decay?
On nature's felf, deftruction prey ?
Then fame, the most immortal thing
Ev'n thou canst hope, is on the wing.
Shall NEWTON's Syftem be admir'd,
When time and motion are expir'd?
Shall fouls be curious to explore
Who rul'd an orb that is no more?
Or fhall they quote the pictur'd age,
From POPE's and Thy corrective page,
When vice and virtue lose their name
In deathless joy, or endless shame ?
While wears away the grand machine,
The works of genius shall be seen:
Beyond, what laurels can there be,
For HOMER, HORACE, POPE, or THEE?
Thro' life we chase, with fond purfuit,
What mocks our hope, like Sodom's fruit:
And fure, thy plan was well defign'd,
To cure this madness of the mind;

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Firft, beyond time our thoughts to raise;
Then lash our love of tranfient praise.
In both, we own thy doctrine just;
And fame's a breath, and men are dust.

1736.

J. BANCKS.

THE

THE

LAST

i

BOOK I.

DAY.

Ipfe pater, media nimborum in nocte, corufca
Fulmina molitur dextra. Quo maxima motu
Terra tremit: fugêre fera! et mortalia corda
Per gentes humilis ftravit pavor.

VIRG,

W

HILE others fing the fortune of the Great;
Empire and Arms, and all the pomp of State;

With Britain's Hero fet their fouls on fire,
And grow immortal as his deeds inspire;
I draw a deeper scene: a scene that yields

A louder trumpet, and more dreadful fields;

The world alarm'd, both earth and heav'n o'erthrown,
And gasping nature's laft tremendous groan;
Death's antient fceptre broke, the teeming tomb,
The righteous Judge, and man's eternal doom.

* The Duke of MARLBOROUGH.

"Twixt

"Twixt joy and pain I view the bold defign,
And ask my anxious heart, if it be mine.
Whatever great or dreadful has been done
Within the fight of conscious stars or fun,
Is far beneath my daring: I look down
On all the fplendors of the British crown.
This globe is for my verse a narrow bound;
Attend me, all the glorious worlds around!
O! all ye angels, howfoe'er disjoin'd,
Of every various order, place, and kind,
Hear, and affist, a feeble mortal's lays;
"Tis your Eternal King I ftrive to praise.

But chiefly Thou, great Ruler! Lord of all!
Before whofe throne archangels proftrate fall;
If at thy nod, from difcord, and from night,
Sprang beauty, and yon fparkling worlds of light,
Exalt e'en me; all inward tumults quell;
The clouds and darkness of my mind difpel;
To my great fubject Thou my breast inspire,
And raise my lab'ring foul with equal fire.

Man, bear thy brow aloft, view every grace
In God's great offspring, beauteous nature's face:
See fpring's gay bloom; fee golden autumn's store;
See how earth fmiles, and hear old ocean roar.
Leviathans but heave their cumb'rous mail,
It makes a tide, and wind-bound navies fail.
Here, forests rise, the mountain's awful pride;
Here, rivers measure climes, and worlds divide;
There, vallies fraught with gold's refplendent feeds,
Hold kings, and kingdoms fortunes, in their beds:
There, to the skies, aspiring hills afcend,

And into diftant lands their shades extend.
View cities, armies, fleets; of fleets the pride,
See Europe's law, in Albion's channel ride.

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