Of fmiling victory that moment won,

And Chatham, heart-fick of his country's fhame.

They made us many foldiers. Chatham ftill
Confulting England's happinefs at home,
Secured it by an unforgiving frown.

If any wrong'd her. Wolfe, where'er he fought,
Put fo much of his heart into his act,

That his example had a magnet's force,
And all were fwift to follow whom all loved.
Those funs are fet. Oh rife fome other fuch!
Or all that we have left, is empty talk

Of old atchievements, and defpair of new.

Now hoift the fail, and let the ftreamers float
Upon the wanton breezes. Strew the deck
With lavender, and fprinkle liquid fweets,

That no rude favour maritime invade
The nofe of nice nobility. Breathe foft

Ye clarionets, and fofter ftill ye flutes,

That winds and waters lull'd by magic founds

May

May bear us smoothly to the Gallic-fhore.

True, we have lost an empire-let it pass.
True, we may thank the perfidy of France
That pick'd the jewel out of England's crown,
With all the cunning of an envious fhrew.
And let that pafs-'twas but a trick of ftate.
A brave man knows no malice, but at once
Forgets in peace, the injuries of war,
And gives his direft foe a friend's embrace,
And fhamed as we have been, to th very beard.
Braved and defied, and in our own fea proved
Too weak for thofe decifive blows, that once

Insured us maft'ry there, we yet retain
Some small pre-eminence, we justly boast
At least fuperior jockeyfhip, and claim
The honors of the turf as all our own.
Go then, well worthy of the praise ye feek,
And fhow the fhame ye might conceal at home,
In foreign eyes!-be grooms, and win the plate,
Where once your nobler fathers won a crown!-

'Tis gen'rous to communicate e your skill

To thofe that need it. Foily is foon learn'd:

And, under fuch preceptors, who can fail!

There is a pleasure in poetic pains

Which only poets know. The shifts and turns,
Th' expedients and inventions multiform

To which the mind reforts, in chace of terms
Though apt, yet coy, and difficult to win-
T' arreft the fleeting images that fill

The mirror of the mind, and hold them fast,
And force them fit, 'till he has pencil'd off
A faithful likeness of the forms he views;
Then to dispose his copies with such art
That each may find its moft propitious light,
And shine by fituation, hardly lefs,

Than by the labor and the fkill it coft,

Are occupations of the poet's mind

So pleafing, and that steal away the thought

With fuch addrefs, from themes of fad import,

That loft in his own mufings, happy man!

He feels th' anxieties of life, denied

Their wonted entertainment, all retire.
Such joys has he that fings. But ah! not fuch,
Or feldom fuch, the hearers of his fong.
Faftidious, or else listless, or perhaps
Aware of nothing arduous in a task
They never undertook, they little note

His dangers or escapes, and haply find

There leaft amusement where he found the most.

But is amusement all? ftudious of fong,
And yet ambitious not to fing in vain,

I would not trifle merely, though the world
Be loudeft in their praise who do no more.
Yet what can fatire, whether grave or gay ?

It

may correct a foible, may chastise

The freaks of fashion, regulate the dress,
Retrench a fword-blade, or difplace a patch;

But where are its fublimer trophies found?

What vice has it fubdued? whofe heart reclaim'd

By

By rigour, or whom laugh'd into reform ? ·

Alas! Leviathan is not fo tamed:

Laugh'd at, he laughs again; and, ftricken hard,
Turns to the stroke his adamantine fcales,

That fear no difcipline of human hands.

The pulpit therefore (and I name it, fill'd

With folemn awe,

that bids me well beware

With what intent I touch that holy thing)
The pulpit (when the far'rift has at laft,
Strutting and vap'ring in an empty school,
Spent all his force and made no profelyte)
I say the pulpit (in the fober use

Of its legitimate, peculiar pow'rs)

Must stand acknowledg'd, while the world shall stand,

The most important and effectual guard,

Support and ornament of virtue's cause.

There stands the meffenger of truth. There ftands

The legate of the skies. His theme divine,

His office facred, his credentials clear.