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No more can faith or eandour move ;

Come, Cheerfulness, triumphant fair, But each ingenuous deed of love,

Shine through the hovering cloud of care: Which reason would applaud,

O sweet of language, mild of mien, Now, smiling o'er her dark distress,

O Virtue's friend and Pleasure's queen, Fancy malignant strives to dress

Assuage the flames that burn my breast, Like Injury and Fraud.

Compose my jarring thoughts to rest;

And while thy gracious gifts I feel, Farewell to Virtue's peaceful times:

My song shall all thy praise reveal. Soon will you stoop to act the crimes

As once ('twas in Astræa's reign) Which thus you stoop to fear:

The vernal powers renew'd their train, Guilt follows guilt : and where the train

happen'd that immortal Love Begins with wrongs of such a stain,

Was ranging through the spheres above, What horrours form the rear !

And downward hither cast his eye

The year's returning pomp to spy, 'Tis thus to work her baleful power,

He saw the radiant god of day, Suspicion waits the sullen hour

Waft in his car the rosy May; Of fretfulness and strife,

The fragrant Airs and genial Hours When care the infirmer bosom wrings,

Were shedding round him dews and flowers; Or Eurus waves his murky wings

Before his wheels Aurora pass'd, To damp the seats of life.

And Hesper's golden lamp was last.

But, fairest of the blooming throng, But come, forsyke the scene unbless'd,

When Health majestic mov'd along, Which first beheld your faithful breast

Delighted to survey below To groundless fears a prey :

The joys which from her presence flow, Come, where with my prevailing lyre

While Earth enliven'd hears her voice, The skies, the streams, the groves conspire And swains, and flocks, and fields rejoice; To charm your doubts away.

Then mighty Love her charms confess'd,

And soon his vows inclind her breast, Thron'd in the Sun's descending car,

And, known from that auspicious morn, What power unseen diffuseth far

Thee, pleasing Cheerfulness, was born. This tenderness of mind ?

Thou, Cheerfulness, by Heaven desigu'd What genius smiles on yonder flood ?

To sway the movements of the mind, What god, in whispers from the wood,

Whatever fretful passion springs, Bids every thought be kind ?

Whatever wayward fortune brings

To disarrange the power within, O thou, whate'er thy awful name,

And strain the musical machine; Whose wisdom our untoward frame

Thou, goddess, thy attempering hand With social love restrains;

Doth each discordant string command, Thou, who by fair Affection's ties

Refines the soft, and swells the strong ; Giv'st us to double all our joys,

And, joining Nature's general song, And half disarm our pains.

Through many a varying tone unfolds

The harmony of human souls. Let universal candour still,

Fair guardian of domestic life, Clear as yon heaven-reflecting rill,

Kind banisher of homebred strife, Preserve my open mind;

Nor sullen lip, nor taunting eye, Nor this nor that man's crooked ways

Deforms the scene where thou art by: One sordid doubt within me raise

No sickening husband damns the hour
To injure human kind.

Which bound his joys to female power;
No pining mother weeps the cares
Which parents waste on thankless heirs :

The officious daughters pleas'd attend ;
ODE VI.

The brother adds the name of friend :
HYMN TO CHEERFULNESS.

By thee with flowers their board is crown'd,

With songs from thee their walks resound; How thick the shades of evening close !

And moru with welcome lustre shines, How pale the sky with weight of snows!

And evening unperceiv'd declines. Haste, light the tapers, urge the fire,

Is there a youth, whose anxious heart And bid the joyless day retire.

Labours with love's unpitied smart? -Alas! in vain I try within

Though now he stray by rills and bowers, To brighten the dejected scene,

And weeping waste the lonely hours, While rous'd by grief these fiery pains

Or if the nymph her audience deign, Tear the frail texture of my veins;

Debase the story of his pain While Winter's voice, that storms around,

With slavish looks, discolour'd eyes, And yon deep death-bell's groaning sound

And accents faltering into sighs; Renew my mind's oppressive gloom,

Yet thou, auspicious power, with ease Till starting horrour shakes the room.

Canst yield him happier arts to please, Is there in Nature no kind power

Inform his mien with manlier charms, To sooth Afliction's lonely hour?

Instruct his tongue with noble arms, To blunt the edge of dire Disease,

With more commanding passion move, And teach these wintery shades to please? And teach the dignity of love.

Friend to the Muse and all her train,

Do thou conduct my fancy's dreams For thee I court the Muse again:

To such indulgent placid themes, The Muse for thee may well exert

As just the struggling breast may cheer, Her pomp, ber charms, her fondest art,

And just suspend the starting tear, Who owes to thee that pleasing sway

Yet leave that sacred sense of woe Which Earth and peopled Heaven obey.

Which none but friends and lovers know. Let Melancholy's plaintive tongue Pepeat what later bards have sung; But thine was Homer's ancient might,

ODE VII. And thine victorious Pindar's flight:

ON THE USE OF POETRY. Thy hand each Lesbian wreath attir'd: Thy lip Sicilian reeds inspir’d:

Not for themselves did human kind The spirit len the glad perfume

Contrive the parts by Heaven assign'd Whence yet the flowers of Teos bloom;

On life's wide scene to play: Whence yet from Tibur's sabine vale

Not Scipio's force, nor Cesar's skill Delicious blows the enlivening gale,

Can conquer Glory's arduous hill,
While Horace calls thy sportive choir,

If Fortune close the way.
Heroes and nymphs, around his lyre,
But see where yonder pensive sage

Yet still the self-depending soul, (A prey perhaps to Fortune's rage,

Though last and least in Fortune's roll, Perhaps by tender griefs.oppress'd,

His proper sphere commands; Or blooms congenial to his breast)

And knows what Nature's seal bestow'd, Retires in desert scenes to dwell,

And sees, before the throne of God,
And bids the joyless world farewell.

The rank in which he stands.
Alone he treads the autumnal shade,
Alone beneath the mountain laid

Who train'd by laws the future age,
He sees the nightly damps ascend

Who rescued nations from the rage And gathering storms aloft impend;

Of partial, factious power, He hears the neighbouring surges roll,

My heart with distant homage views; And raging thunders shake the pole:

Content if thou, celestial Muse,
Then, struck by every object round,

Didst rule my natal hour.
And stunn'd by every horrid sound,
He asks a clue for Nature's ways;

Not far beneath the hero's feet,
But evil haunts him through the maze:

Nor from the legislator's seat He sees ten thousand demons rise

Stands far remote the bard. To wield the empire of the skies,

Though not with public terrours cround, And Chance and Fate assume the rod,

Yet wider shall his rule be found,
And Malice blot the throne of God.

More lasting bis award.
-O thou, whose pleasing power I sing,
Thy lenient influence bither bring;

Lycurgus fashion'd Sparta's fame,
Compose the storm, dispel the gloom,

And Pompey to the Roman name Till Nature wear her wonted bloom,

Gave universal sway: Till fields and shades their sweets exhale,

Where are they?-Homer's reverend page And music swell each opening gale :

Holds empire to the thirtieth age,
Then o'er his breast thy softness pour,

And tongues and climes obey.
And let him learn the timely hour
To trace the world's benignant laws,

And thus when William's acts divine
And judge of that presiding cause,

No longer shall from Bourbon's line Who founds on discord Beauty's reign,

Draw one vindictive vow; Converts to pleasure every pain,

When Sidney shali with Cato rest, Sabdues each hostile form to rest,

And Russel move the patriot's breast
And bids the universe be bless'd.

No more than Brutus now:
Othou whose pleasing power I sing,
If right I touch the votive string,

Yet then shall Shakspeare's powerful art If equal praise I yield thy name,

O'er every passion, every heart, Still govern thou thy poet's flame:

Confirm his awful throne : Still with the Muse my bosom share,

Tyrants shall bow before his laws; And sooth to peace intruding Care.

And Freedom's, Glory's, Virtue's cause, But most exert thy pleasing power

Their dread assertor own.
On Friendship's consecrated hour;
And while my Sophron points the road
To godlike Wisdom's calm abode,

ODE VIII.
Or warm in Freedom's ancient cause
Traceth the source of Albion's laws,

ON LEAVING HOLLAND.
Add thou o'er all the generous toil
The light of thy unclouded smile.
But, if by Fortune's stubborn sway,

FAREWELL to Leyden's lonely bound, From him and Friendship torn away,

The Belgian Muse's sober seat; I court the Muse's healing spell

Where, dealing frugal gifts around For griefs that still with absence dwell,

To all the favourites at her feet,

M.DCC.XLIV.

She trains the body's bulky frame

Great citizen of Albion ! thee
For passive, persevering toils;

Heroic valour still attends,
And lest, from any prouder aim,

And useful Science, pleas'd to see
The daring mind should scorn her homely spoils, How Art her studious toil extends,
She breathes maternal fogs to dampits restless flame. While Truth, diffusing from on high

A lustre unconfin'd as day,
Farewell the grave, pacific air,

Fills and commands the public eye;
Where never mountain zephyr blew :

Till, pierc'd and sinking by her powerful ray,
The marshy levels lank and bare,

Tame Faith and monkish Awe, like nightly de-
Which Pan, which Ceres never knew :

mons, fly.
The Naiads, with obscene attire,
Urging in vain their urns to flow;

Hence the whole land the patriot's ardour shares,
While round them chant the croking choir,

Hence dread Religion dwells with social Joy; And haply soothe some lover's prudent woe,

And holy passions and unsullied cares, Or prompt some restive bard, and modulate his lyre. In youth, in age, domestic life employ.

O fair Britannia, hail !-With partial love Farewell, ye nymphs, whom sober care of gain The tribes of men their native seats approve, Snatch'd in your cradles from the god of Unjust and hostile to each foreign fame: love:

But when for generous minds and manly laws
She render'd all his boasted arrows vain;

A nation holds her prime applause,
And all his gifts did he in spite remove.

Their public zeal shall all reproof disclaim.
Ye too, the slow-ey'd fathers of the land,
With whom dominion steals from hand to hand,
Unown'd, undigpify'd by public choice,
I go where Liberty to all is known,

ODE IX.
And tells a monarch on his throne,

TO CURIO'.
He reigns not but by her preserving voice,
II.

Thrice hath the spring beheld thy faded fame
O my lov'd England, when with thee

Since I exulting grasp'd the tuneful shell: Shall I sit down, to part no more?

Eager through endless years to sound thy name, Far from this pale, discolourd sea,

Proud that my memory with thine should dwell. That sleeps upon the reedy shore,

How hast thou stain'd the splendour of my choice! When shall I plough thy azure tide?

Those godlike forms which hover'd round thy When on thy hills the flocks admire,

voice, Like mountain snows; till down their side Laws, freedom, glory, whither are they flown? I trace the village and the sacred spire, [vide. What can I now of thee to time report, While bowers and copses green the golden slope di- Save thy fond country made thy impions sport,

Her fortune and her hope the victims of thy own? Ye nymphs, who guard the pathless grove, Ye blue-ey'd sisters of the streams,

There are,

with eyes unmov'd, and reckless heart, With whom I wont at morn to rove,

Who saw thee from thy summit fall thus low, With whom at noon I talk'd in dreams: Who deem'd thy arm extended but to dart 0! take me to your haunts again,

The public vengeance on tl y private fue. The rocky spring, the greenwood glade; But, spite of every gloss of envious minds, To guide my lonely footsteps deign,

The owl-ey'd race wbom Virtue's lustre blinds, To prompt my slumbers in the murmuring shade, Who sagely prove that each man hath his price, And soothe my vacant ear with many an airy strain. I still believ'd thy aim from blemish free,

I vet, even yet, believe it, spite of thee
And thou, my faithful harp, no longer mourn And all thy painted pleas to greatness and to vice.

Thy drooping master's inauspicious hand:
Now brighter skies and fresher gales return, “ Thou didst not dream of Liberty decay'd,
Now fairer maids thy melody demand.

Nor wish to make her guardian laws more Daughters of Albion, listen to my lyre!

But the rash many, first by thee misled, [strong: O Phæbus, guardian of the Aonian choir,

Bore thee at length unwillingly along."
Why sounds not mine harmonious as thy own, Rise from your sad abodes, ye curst of old,
When all the virgin deities above

For faith deserted or for cities sold,
With Venus and with Juno move

Own here one untry'd, unexampled, deed;
In concert round the Olympian fathers' throne? One mystery of shame from Curio, learn,

To beg the infamy he did not earn, (meed. III.

And scape in Guilt's disguise from Viitue's offer'd Thee too, protectress of my lays, Elate with whose majestic call

For saw we not that dangerous power arow'd Above degenerate Latium's praise,

Whom Freedom oft hath found her mortal bane, Above the slavish boast of Gaul,

Whom public Wisdom ever strove to exclude, I dare from impious thrones reclaim,

And but with blushes suffereth in her train? And wanton Slothi's ignoble charms,

Corruption vaunted her bewitching spoils, The honours of a poet's name

O'er court, o'er senate, spread in pomp her toils, To Somers' counsels, or to llampden's arms, Thee, Friedum, I rejoin, and bless thy genuine flame.

* See the Epistle to Curio.

And call'd herself the state's directing soul: Prompt with a lover's fondness to survey;
Till Curio, like a good magician, try'd

Yet, where Injustice works her wilfui claim,
With Eloquence and Reason at his side, (trol. Fierce as the fight of Jove's destroying flame,
By strength of holier spells the enchantress to con- Impatient to confront, and dreadful to repay.
Soon with thy country's hope thy fame extends; These thy heart owns no longer. In their room

The rescued merchant oft thy words resounds: See the grave queen of pageants, Honour, dwell, Thee and thy cause the rural hearth defends; Couch'd in thy bosom's deep tempestuou- gloom

His bowl to thee the grateful sailor crowns : Like some grim idol in a sorcerer's cell. The learn'd recluse, with awful zeal who read Before' ber rites thy sickening reason flew, Of Grecian heroes, Roman patriots dead,

Divine Persuasion from thy tongue withdrew, Now with like awe doth living merit scan:

While Laughter mockd, or Pity stole a sigh: While he, whom virtue in his blest retreat

Can Wit her tender morements rightly frame Bade social ease and public passions meet, Where the prime function of the soul is lame? Ascends the civil scene, and knows to be a man. Can Fancy's feeblesprings the force of Truth supply? At length in view the glorious end appeard: But come: 'tis time: strong Destiny impends

We saw thy spirit through the senate reign; To shut thee from the joys thou hast betray'd : And Freedom's friends thy instant omen heard With princes fill'd, the solemn fane ascends,

Of laws for which their fathers bled in vain. By Infamy, the mindful demon sway'd.
Wak'd in the strife the public Genius rose There vengeful vows for guardian laws effac'd,
More keen, more ardent from his long repose : From nations fetter'd, and from towns laid waste,
Deep through her bounds the city felt his call: For ever through the spacious courts resound:
Each crowded haunt was stirr'd beneath his power, There long posterity's unitel groau,

And murmuring challeng'd the deciding hour And the sad charge of berours not their own,
Of that too vast event, the hope and dread of all. Assail the giant chiefs, and press them to the ground.
O, ye good-powers! who look on human kind, In sight old Time, imperiors judge, awaits:

Instruct the mighty moments as they roll ; Ahore revenge, or fear, or pity, just,
And watch the fleeting shapes in Curio's mind, He urgeth onward to those guilty gates
And steer his passions steady to the goal.

The great, the sage, the happy, and augusts O Alfred, father of the English name,

And still he asks them of the hidden plan O valiant Edward, first in civil fame,

Whence every treaty, every war began, o William, height of public virtue pure,

Evolves their secrets, and their guilt proclaims : Bend from your radiant seats a joyful eye, And still his bands despoil them on the road Behold the sum of all your labours nigh,

Of each vain wreath by lying bards bestow'd, Your plans of law complete, your ends of rule secure. And crush their trophies huge, and rase their sculp

tur'd names. 'Twas then-Oshame! O soal from faith estrang'd!

O Albion, oft to flattering vows a prey ! Ye mighty shades, arise, give place, attend: 'Twas then—Thy thought what sudden frenzy Here bis eternal mansion Curio seeks: [bend, chang'd?

- Low doth proud Wentworth to the stranger What rushing palsy took thy strength away? And his dire welcome hardy Clifford speaks: Is this the man in Freedom's cause approv'd ? “He comes, whom Fate with surer arts prepar'd The man so great, so honour'd, so belov'd ? To accomplish all which we but vainly dard: Whom the dead envy'd, and the living bless'd ? Whom o'er the stubborn herd she taught to reign: This patient slave by tinsel bonds allur'd ?

Who sooth'd with gaurly dreams their raging This wretched suitor for a boon ahjur'd ?

Even to its last irrevocable hour; [power, Wbom those that feard him, scorn; that trusted Then baffled their rude strength, and broke them him, detest?

to the chain."

O lost alike to action and repose!

But ye, whom yet wise Liberty inspires, With all that habit of familiar fame,

Whom for her champions o'er the world she Sold to the mockery of relentless foes,

claims, And doom'd to exhaust the dregs of life in (That household godhead, whom of old your sires shame,

Sought in the woods of Elbe, and bore to To act with burning brow and throbbing heart Drive ye this hostile omen far away; (Thames) A poor deserter's dull exploded part,

Their own fell efforts on her foes repay; To slight the favour thou canst hope no more, Your wealth, your arts, your fame, be her’s alone: Renounce the giddy crowd, the vulgar wind, Still gird your swords to combat on her side;

Charge thy own lightness on thy country's mind, Still fraine your laws her generous test to abide; And from her voice appeal to each tame foreign And win to her defence the altar and the throne. shore.

Protect her from yourselves, ere yet the flood But England's sons, to purchase thence applause, Of golden luxury, which Commerce pours,

Shall ne'er the loyalty of slaves pretend, Hath spread that selfish fierceness through your By courtly passions try the public cause;

blood, Nor to the forms of rule betray the end.

Which not her lightest discipline endures : Orace erect! by manliest passions moy'd, Snatch from fantastic demagogues her cause: The labours which to virtue stand approv'd, Dream not of Numa's manners, Plato's laws:

A wiser founder, and a nohler plan,

If then, from Love's deceit secure, O sons of Alfred, were for you assign'd:

Thus far alone thy wishes tend,
Bring to that birthright but an equal mind, Go; see the white-wing'd evening hour
And no sublimer lot will Fate reserve for man.

On Delia's vernal walk descend :
Go, while the golden light serene,

The grove, the lawn, the soften'd scene,

Becomes the presence of the rural queen.
ODE X.

Attend, while that harmonious tongue
TO THE MUSE.

Each bosom, each desire, commands:

Apollo's lute by Hermes strung, Queen of my songs, harmonious maid,

And touch'd by chaste Minerva's hands, Ah why hast thou withdrawn thy aid ?

Attend. I feel a force divine, Ah why forsaken thus my breast

O Delia, win my thoughts to thine;
With inauspicious damps oppress'd ?

That half the colour of thy life is mine.
Where is the dread prophetic heat,
With which my bosom wont to beat ?

Yet, conscious of the dangerous charm,
Where all the bright mysterious dreams

Soon would I turn my steps away; Of haunted groves and tuneful streams,

Nor oft proroke the lovely harm, That woo'd my genius to divinest themes?

Not lull my reason's watchful sway.

But thou, my friend—I hear thy sighs: Say, goddess, can the festal board,

Alas! I read thy downcast eyes; Or young Olympia's form ador'd;

And thy tongue faulters; and thy colour flies. Say, can the pomp of promis d fame Relume thy faint, thy dying flame?

So soon again to meet the fair? Or have melodious airs the power

So pensive all this absent hour? To give one free, poetic hour?

LO yet, unlucky youth, beware, Or, from amid the Elysian train,

While yet to think is in thy power. The soul of Milton shall I gain,

In vain with friendship's flattering name To win thee back with some celestial strain ?

Thy passion veils its inward shame;

Friendship the treacherous fuel of thy flame! O powerful strain, O sacred soul! His numbers every sense control:

Once I remember, new to Love, And now again my bosom burns;

And dreading his tyrannic chain, The Muse, the Muse herself, returns.

I sought a gentle maid, to prove Such on the banks of Tyne, confess'd,

What peaceful joys in friendship reign; I hail'd the fair immortal guest,

Whence we forsooth might safely stand, When first she seald me for her own,

And pitying view the love-sick band, Made all her blissful treasures known,

And mock the winged boy's malicious hand. And bade me swear to follow her alone.

Thus frequent pass'd the cloudless day,

To smiles and sweet discourse resign'd ;

While I exulted to survey
ODE XI.

One generous woman's real mind :

Till Friendship soon my languid breast
ON LOVE.-TO A FRIEND.

Each night with unknown cares possess'd,

Dash'd my coy slumbers, or my dreams distress'd. No, foolish youth-to virtuous fame If now thy early hopes be vow'd,

Fool that I was! And now, even now If true ambition's nobler flame

While thus I preach the Stoic strain, Command thy footsteps from the crowd,

Unless I shun Olympia's view, Lean not to Love's enchanting snare;

An hour unsays it all again. His songs, bis words, his looks beware,

O friend !-when Love directs her eyes Nor join his votaries, the young and fair.

To pierce where every passion lies,

Where is the firm, the cautious, or the wise ? By thought, by dangers, and by toils,

The wreath of just Renown is worn; Nor will Ambition's awful spoils

ODE XII. The flowery pomp of Ease adorn:

TO SIR FRANCIS HENRY DRAKE, BART.
But Love unbends the force of thought;
By Love unmanly fears are taught;

BEHOLD, the Balance in the sky
And Love's reward with gaudy Sloth is bought. Swift on the wintry scale inclines;

To earthy caves the Dryads fly,
Yet thou hast read in tuneful lays,

And the bare pastures Pan resigns. And heard from many a żealous breast, Late did the farmer's fork o'erspread The pleasing tale of Beauty's praise

With recent soil the twice-moun mead, In Wisdom's lofty language dress’d;

Tainting the bloom which autumn knows : Of Beauty, powerful to impart

He whets the rusty coulter now,
Each finer sense, each comelier art,

He binds his oxen to the plough,
An'l soothe and polish man's ungentle heart. And wide his future harvest throws.

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