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O'er mighty names and giant-powers of lust, My wishes, lull'd with soft inglorious dreams,
Averse to action, and renouncing fame.
At last the visionary scenes decay,
Whose faithful beams detect the dangerous road
For silver streams and banks bespread with flowers, Give way, do homage to a mightier guest!
For mossy couches and harmonious bowers, Ye daring spirits of the Roman race,
Lo ! barren heaths appear, and pathless roods, See Curio's toil your proudest claims efface ! And rocks hung dreadful o'er unfathom'd foods: -Awd at the name, fierce Appius 4 rising bends, For openness of heart, for tender smiles, And hardy Cinna from his throne attends :
Looks franght with love, and wrath disarming wiles, “ He comes,” they cry, "to whom the Pates assign'd Lo! sullen Spite, and perjur'd Lust of Gain, With surer arts to work what we designd,
And cruel Pride, and crueler Disdain. From year to year the stubboru herd to sway, Lo! cordial Faith to idiot airs refin'd, Mouth all their wrongs, and all their rage obey; Now coolly civil, now transportiug kind. Till, own'd their guide, and trusted with their power, For graceful Ease, lo! Affectation walks ; He mock'd their hopes in one decisive hour: And dull Half-sense, for Wit and Wisdom talks. Then, tir'd and yielding, led them to the chain, New to each hour what low delight succeeds, And quench'd the spirit we provok'd in vain." What precious furniture of hearts and beads!
But thou, Supreme, by whose eternal hands By nought their prudence, but by getting, known; Fair Liberty's heroic empire stands;
And all their courage in deceiving shown. Whose thunders the rebellious deep control,
See next what plagues attend the lover's state, And quell the triumphs of the traitor's soul, What frightful forms of Terrour, Scorn, and Hate! O turn this dreadful omen far away :
See burning Fury, Heaven and Earth defy ! On Freedom's foes their own attempts repay; See dumb Despair in icy fetters lie! Relume her sacred fire so near supprest,
See black Suspicion bend bis gloomy brow, And fix her shrine in every Roman breast :
The hideous image of himself to view ! Though bold Corruption boast around the land, And fond Belief, with all a lover's flame, " Let Virtue, if she can, my baits withstand !" Sinks in those arms that points bis head with shame! Though bolder now she urge the accursed claim, There wan Dejection, faultering as he goes, Gay with her trophies rais’d on Curio's shame; In shades and silence vainly seeks repose; Yet some there are who scorn her impious mirth, Musing throuyh pathless wilds, consumes the day, Who know what conscience and a heart are worth. Then lost in darkness weeps the hours away. -O friend and father of the human mind,
Here the gay crowd of Luxury advance, Whose art for noblest ends our frame design'd! Some touch the lyre, and others urge the dance ; If I, though fated to the studious shade
On every bead the rosy garland glows, Which party-strife nor anxious power invade, In every band the golden goblet flows. If I aspire in Public Virtue's cause,
The Syren views them with exulting eyes, To guide the Muses by sublimer laws,
And laughs at bashful Virtue as she flies. Do thou her own authority impart,
But see behind, where Scorn and Want appear, And give my numbers entrance to the heart. The grave remonstrance and the witty sneer. Perhaps the verse might rouse her smother'd flame, See fell Remorse in action, prompt to dart And snatch the fainting patriot back to fame; Her snaky poison through the conscious heart. Perhaps, by worthy thoughts of human kind, And Sloth to cancel, with oblivious shame, To worthy deeds exalt the conscious mind; The fair memorial of recording Fame. Or dash Corruption in her proud career,
Are these delights that one would wish to gain? And teach her slaves that Vice was born to fear. Is this the Elysiun of a sober brain :
To wait for happiness in female smiles,
With prayers, with bribes, with lies, her pity crave,
Bless her hard bonds, and boast to be her slare;
To feel, for trifles, a distracting train Too much my heart of Beauty's power hath known, of hopes and terrours equally in vain; Too long to Love hath Reason left her throne; This hour to tremble, and the next to glow, Too long my genius mourn’d his myrtle chain, Can pride, can sepse, can reason, stoop so low? And three rich years of youth consum'd in vain. When Virtue, at an easier price, displays
The sacred wreaths of honourable praise ; 3 Titles which have been generally ascribed to When Wisdom utters her divine decree, the most pernicious of men. Akenside.
To laugh at pompous Folly, and be free. 4 Appius Claudius the decemvir, and L. Cornelius I bid adieu, then, to these woful scenes ; Cinna, both attempted to establish a tyrannical I bid adieu to all the sex of queens; dominion in Rome, and both perish'd by the trea- Adieu to every suffering, simple soul, son. Akenside.
That lets a woman's will his ease control.
A BRITISH PHILIPPIC.
Demands her efforts; at that sacred call
She summons all her ardour, throws aside
And if one spark of honour or of fame,
Disdain of insult, dread of infamy,
She means to wake it, rouse the generous flame,
And fire each British heart with British wrongs, Nor bope to shelter that devoted boy.
Alas, the vain attempt! what influence now
Can the Muse boast ? or what attention now
Is paid to fame or virtue? Where is now
The British spirit, generous, warm, and brave,
If that protection, once to strangers given,
I'll aim to shake this vile degenerate sloth;
I'll dare to rouze Britannia's dreaming sons
To fame, to virtue, and impart around
Come then the various powers of forceful speech,
All that can move, awaken, fire, transport;
Lest my best efforts failing should debase
The sacred theme; for with no common wing
The Muse attempts to soar. Yet what need these?
My country's fame, my free-born British heart,
Than Greek or Roman flame exalt my soul.
Oh! could I give the vast ideas birth
Expressive of the thoughts that flame within,
No more should lazy Luxury detain
Our ardent youth; no more should Britain's sons Make the sad miser his best gains forego,
Sit tamely passive by, and careless hear The solemn statesman sigh to be a beau;
The prayers, sighs, groans (immortal infamy!) The bold coquette with fondest passion burn,
df fellow Britons, with oppression sunk, The bacchanalian o'er his bottle mourn:
In bitterness of soul demanding aid, And that chief glory of thy power maintain, Calling on Britain, their dear native land, * To poise ambition in a female brain."
The land of Liberty; so greatly fam'd Be these thy triumphs. But no more presume
For just redress : the land so often dyed That my rebellious heart will yield thee room.
With her best blood, for that arouzing cause, kmw thy puny force, thy simple wiles;
The freedom of her sons; thosc sons that now, break triumphant through thy flimsy toils:
Far from the manly blessings of her sway, see thy dying lamp's last languid glow,
Drag the vile fetters of a Spanish lord. hy arrows blunted, and unbrac'd thy bow.
And dare they, dare the vanquish'd sons of Spain, feel diviner fires my breast infiame,
Enslave a Briton? Have they then forgot, o active science, and ingenuous fame:
So soon forgot, the great, the immortal day, esume the paths my earliest choice began,
When rescued Sicily with joy beheld nd lose, with pride, the lover in the man.
The swift-wing'd thunder of the British arm
From swift impending vengeance fled in vain :
Are these our lords? And can Britannia see
Her foes oft vanquish'd, thus defy her power,
Insult her standard, and enslave her sons,
And not arise to justice? Did our sires,
Unaw'd by chains, by exile, or by death, HENCE this unwonted transport in my breast ? Preserve inviolate her guardian rights, bay glow my thoughts, and whither would the Muse To Britons ever sacred that their sons
Might give them up to Spaniards ? - Turn your | His urn encircle, to the wondering world eyes,
His numerous triumphs blazon; while with ave, Turn ye degenerate, who with haughty boast With filial reverence, in his steps they tread, Call yourselves Britons, to that dismal gloom, And, copying every virtue, every fame, That dungeon dark and deep, where never thought Transplant his glories into second life, Of joy or peace can enter; see the gates
And, with upsparing hand, make nations blest Harsh-creaking open; what an hideous void, By his example. Vast immense rewards! Dark as the vawning grave! while still as death For all the turmoils which the virtuous mind A frightful silence reigns : there on the ground Encounters here. Yet, Britons, are ye cold? Behold your brethren chain'd like beasts of prey : Yet deaf to glory, virtue, and the call There mark your numerous glories, there behold Of your poor injur'd countrymen? Ah! no. The look that speaks unutterable woe;
I see ye are not; every bosom glows The mangled limb, the faint, the deathful eye With native greatness, and in all its state With famine sunk, the deep heart-bursting groan The British spirit rises. Glorious change! Suppress’d in silence; view the loathsome food, Fame, Virtue, Freedom, welcome! Oh! forgive Refus’d by dogs, and oh! the stinging thought! The Muse, that ardent in her sacred cause View the dark Spaniard glorying in their wrongs, Your glory question’d: she bebolds with joy; The deadly priest triumphant in their woes, She owns, she triumphs in her wish'd mistake. And thundering worse damnation on their souls: See! from her sea-beat throne in awful march While that pale form, in all the pangs of death, Britannia towers: upon her laurel crest Too faint to speak, yet eloquent of all
The plumes majestic nod; behold she heares His native British spirit yet untam'd,
Her guardian shields, and terrible in arms Raises his bead, and with indignant frowns
For battle shakes her adamantine spear : Of great defiance, and superior scorn,
Loud at her foot the British lion roars, Looks up and dies.--Oh! I am all on fire! Frighting the nations ; haughty Spain full soon But let me spare the theme, lest future times Shall hear and tremble. Go then, Britons, forth, Should blush to hear that either conquer'd Spain Your country's daring champions: tell your furry Durst otler Britain such outrageous wrong,
Tell them in thunders o'er their prostrate jand, Or Britain tamely bore it
You were not born for slaves : let all your deeds Descend, ye guardian heroes of the land !
Show that the sons of those immortal men,
In virtue's path to emulate their sires,
HYMN TO SCIENCE. They shame your laurels, and beli. their birth!
Come, ye great spirits, Ca'ndish, Raleigh, Blake! O vitæ Philosophia dux! O virtutis indagatrix, And ye of later name your country's pride,
expultrixque vitiorum.- Tu urbes peperisti; to
inventrix legum, tu magistra morum et disse Oh! come, disperse these lazy fumes of sloth, Teach British hearts with British fires to glow!
plinæ fuisti : Ad te confugimus, a te opem pa
timus. Cic. Tusc. Quæst. In wakening whispers rouze our ardent youth, Blazon the triumphs of your better days,
Science! thou fair effusive ray Paint all the glorious scenes of rightful war,
From the great source of mental day,
Free, generous, and refin'd !
But first with thy resistless light,
Those mimic shades of thee;
The scholiast's learning, sophist's cant, The guardian of their civil, sacred rights.
The visionary bigot's rant,
The monk's philosophy.
O! let thy powerful charms impart
The patient head, the candid heart,
Devoted to thy sway;
Which no weak passions e'er mislead,
Which still with dauntless steps proceed
Where reason points the way.
Give me to learn each secret cause;
Reveal'd before me stand ; For ever brightens; and the wise and good
These to great Nature's scenes apply, Of every land in universal choir
And round the globe, and through the sky, With richest incense of undying praise
Disclose her working hand,
Next, to thy nobler search resign'd,
Through private life pursue thy course', The busy, restless, human mind
Trace every action to its source, Through every maze pursue;
And means and motives weigh: Detect perception where it lies,
Put tempers, passions, in the scale, Catch the ideas as they rise,
Mark what degrees in each prevail, And all their changes view.
Aud fix the doubtful sway.