By faithful memory. And then at some
More active moment, will I call them forth
Anew; and join them in majestic forms,

And give them utterance in harmonious ftrains;
That all mankind shall wonder at your sway.

IX.

ME though in life's fequefter'd vale

The Almighty Sire ordain'd to dwell,
Remote from Glory's toilfome ways,
And the great scenes of public praise ;
Yet let me ftill with grateful pride
Remember how my infant frame
He temper'd with prophetic flame,
And early mufic to my tongue fupply'd.

'Twas then my future fate he weigh'd.
And, This be thy concern, he faid,
At once with Paffion's keen alarms,
And Beauty's pleasurable charms,
And facred Truth's eternal light,
To move the various mind of man;
Till under one unblemish'd plan,
His reafon, fancy, and his heart unite.

AN

AN EPISTLE TO CURIO *.

THRICE has the Spring beheld thy faded fame,
And the fourth Winter rifes on thy fhame,
Since I exulting grafp'd the votive shell,

In founds of triumph all thy praise to tell;
Bleft could my skill through ages make thee fhine,
And proud to mix my memory with thine.
But now the cause that wak'd my song before,
With praise, with triumph, crowns the toil no more.
If to the glorious man, whofe faithful cares,
Nor quell'd by malice, nor relax'd by years,
Had aw'd ambition's wild audacious hate,
And dragg'd at length Corruption to her fate;

* Curio was a young Roman Senator of diftinguished birth and parts, who, upon his first entrance into the Forum, had been committed to the care of Cicero. Being profufe and extravagant, he foon diffipated a large and fplendid fortune; to fupply the want of which, he was driven to the neceffity of abetting the defigns of Cæfar against the liberties of his country, although he had before been a profeffed enemy to him.-Cicero exerted himself with great energy to prevent his ruin, but without effect, and he became one of the first victims in the civil war. This epistle was first published in the year 1744, when a celebrated patriot, after a long and at last a successful oppofition to an unpopular minifter, had deferted the cause of his country, and become the foremost in support and defence of the fame measures he had fo fteadily and for fuch a length of time contended against. It was altered by the Author into the "Ode to Curio ;" but the original poem is too curious to be omitted. N.

If every tongue its large applaufes ow'd,
And well-earn'd laurels every Muse bestow'd;
If public juftice urg'd the high reward,
And Freedom fmil'd on the devoted Bard:
Say then, to him whofe levity or luft
Laid all a people's generous hopes in duft;
Who taught Ambition firmer heights of power,
And fav'd Corruption at her hopeless hour;
Does not each tongue its execrations owe?
Shall not each Mufe a wreath of fhame beftow?
And public juftice fanctify the award?
And Freedom's hand protect the impartial bard?
Yet long reluctant I forbore thy name,

Long watch'd thy virtue like a dying flame,
Hung o'er each glimmering spark with anxious eyes,
And wifh'd and hop'd the light again would rise.
But fince thy guilt ftill more intire appears,
Since no art hides, no fuppofition clears;
Since vengeful Slander now too finks her blast,
And the first rage of party-hate is past;
Calm as the Judge of Truth, at length I come
To weigh thy merits, and pronounce thy doom:
So may my truft from all reproach be free,
And Earth and Time confirm the fair decree.

There are who say they view'd without amaze
Thy fad reverse of all thy former praise ;
That through the pageants of a patriot's name,
They pierc'd the foulnefs of thy fecret aim;
Or deem'd thy arm exalted but to throw
The public thunder on a private foe.

But

But I, whofe foul confented to thy cause,
Who felt thy genius ftamp its own applause,
Who faw the spirits of each glorious age
Move in thy bofom, and direct thy rage;

I fcorn'd the ungenerous glofs of flavish minds,
The owl-eyed race, whom Virtue's luftre blinds.
Spite of the learned in the ways of Vice,

And all who prove that each man has his price,
I ftill believ'd thy end was just and free ;
And yet, even yet believe it-spite of thee.
Even though thy mouth impure has dar'd disclaim,
Urg'd by the wretched impotence of shame,
Whatever filial cares thy zeal had paid
To laws infirm and liberty decay'd;
Has begg'd Ambition to forgive the show;
Has told Corruption thou wert ne'er her foe;
Has boasted in thy country's awful ear,
Her grofs delufion when she held thee dear;
How tame fhe follow'd thy tempeftuous call,
And heard thy pompous tales, and trufted all-
Rife from
your fad abodes, ye curst of old

For laws fubverted, and for cities fold!
Paint all the nobleft trophies of your guilt,
The oaths you perjur'd, and the blood you spilt;
Yet must you one untempted vilenefs own,
One dreadful palm referv'd for him alone :
With ftudied arts his country's praise to spurn,
To beg the infamy he did not earn,

To challenge hate when honour was his due,
And plead his crimes where all his virtue knew.

Do robes of state the guarded heart inclofe

From each fair feeling human nature knows?
Can pompous
titles ftun the inchanted ear
To all that reason, all that fenfe, would hear?
Elfe could'ft thou e'er desert thy facred poft,
In fuch unthankful baseness to be loft?

Elfe could't thou wed the emptiness of vice.
And yield thy glories at an ideot's price?

When they who, loud for liberty and laws,
In doubtful times had fought their country's cause,
When now of conqueft and dominion fure,
They fought alone to hold their fruits fecure;
When taught by thefe, Oppreffion hid the face
To leave Corruption ftronger in her place,
By filent fpells to work the public fate,
And taint the vitals of the paffive state,
Till healing Wisdom should avail no more,
And Freedom loath to tread the poifon'd shore;
Then, like fome guardian god that flies to fave
The weary pilgrim from an inftant grave,
Whom, fleeping and fecure, the guileful snake
Steals near and nearer through the peaceful brake;
Then Curio rofe to ward the public woe,

To wake the heedlefs, and incite the flow,
Against Corruption Liberty to arm,
And quell the enchantress by a mightier charm.
Swift o'er the land the fair contagion flew,
And with thy country's hopes thy honours grew.
Thee, Patriot, the patrician roof confess'd:
Thy powerful voice the refcued merchant blefs'd;