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Her thus immers'd in anxious thoughts profound" Contempt of order, manners profligate, [state.
"The fymptoms of a foul, difeas'd and bloated
"While Liberty fecures and heightens ev'ry
"The health and fickness of the common weal "The maladies you cause yourselves must heal. "In vain to the unthinking harden'd crowd
Awaken'd from her trance of penfive wo By thefe fair flatt'ring words, the rais'd her head," Upon your vital influences wait And bending on the knight her frowning brow, "Mock'st thou my forrows, Fairy Son" fhe faid; "Or is thy judgment by thy heart misled "To deem that certain which thy hopes fuggeft:"Will truth and reafon make their juft appeal, "To deem them full of life and luftihead + "In vain will facred wifdom cry aloud, [blood. "Whofe cheeks in Hebe's vivid tints are drefs'd," And juftice drench in vain her vengeful sword in "And with joy's careless mien and dimpled With you must reformation first take place: "fimiles imprefs'd! "You are the head, the intellectual mind "Of this vaft body politic, whofe bafe
Thy unfufpecting heart how nobly good
"I know, how fanguine in thy country's caufe," And vulgar limbs to drudgery confign'd, "And mark'd thy virtue fingly how it stood "All the rich ftores of fcience have refign'd "Th' affaults of mighty cuftom, which o'erawes" To you, that, by the craftsman's various toil, "The faint and tim'rons mind, and oft withdraws" The fea-worn mariner and fweating hind, "From Reafon's lore th' ambitious and the vain, By the fweet hure of popular applaufe, "Against their better knowledge to maintain "The lawless throne of Vice or Folly's childish "" reign.
"In peace and affluence maintain'd, the while "You for yourfelves and them may drefs the "mental foil.
"How vaft his influence, how wide his fway,
"How vice and folly had o'erfpread the land:
"To you, ye noble, opulent, and great!
"Peace, wealth, and liberty that noblest boon,
Bethink you then, my children! of the trust "In you repos'd; ne let your heaven-born mind "Contume in pleasure or unactive ruft, "But nobly roufe you to the talk affign'd, "The godlike talk, to teach and mend mankind! Learn, that ye may inftruct: to virtue lead "Yourfelves the way; the herd will crowd be
"And gather precepts from each worthy deed:
In them redeem your errors manifold,
"And thence abus'd, but ferve to furnish food
* Sith, fince.
‡ Mould, shape, form.
And you who tho' by the rude torrent borne Unwillingly along, you yield with pain To his behefts, and act what you difdain, "Yet nourish in your hearts the gen'rous love "Of piety and truth, no more restrain "The manly zeal, but all your finews move "The prefent to reclaim, the future race im66 prove.
"Fftfcons by your joint efforts fhall be quell'd "Yon haughty giant, who fo proudly sways "A fceptre by repute alone upheld, "Who where he cannot dictate straight obeys: "Accuftom'd to conform his flatt'ring phrale "To numbers and hight-plac'd authority "Your party he will join, your maxims praife, And, drawing after all his menial fry,
Soon teach the gen'ral voice your act to ratify. "Ne for th' atchievement of this great emprize "The want of means or counsel may ye dread; From my twin-daughters' fruitful wombs fhal! “A race of letter'd fages deeply read [rife In learning's various writ, by whom vled "Thro' each well-cultur'd plot, each beauteous “grove,
"Where antic wifdom whilom wont to tread, "With mingled glue and profit may ye rove, "And cull each virtuous plant, each tree of “knowledge prove. "Yourselves with virtue thus and knowledge "fraught,
"Of what in ancient days of good or great "Hiftorians, bards, philofophers, have taught, "Join'd with whatever elfe of modern date "Maturer judgment, fearch more accurate, "Discover'd have of Nature, Man and God, "May by new laws reform the time-worn ftate "Of cell-bred difcipline, and imoothe the road "That leads thro' learning's vale to wifdom's "bright abode.
"By you invited to her fecret bow'rs, ・・ "Then fhall Pædia re-afcend her throne, “With vivid laurels girt and fragrant flow'rs; "While from their forked mount defcending down "Yon fupercilious pedant train fhall own "Her empire paramount, ere long by her "Ytaught a leflon in their fchools unknown, "To learning's richest treasure to prefer "The knowledge of the world and man's great "bufinefs there.
"On this prime fcience, as the final end "Of all her difcipline and nurt'ring care, "Her eye Padia fixing, aye fhall bend "Her ev'ry thought and effort to prepare "Her tender pupils for the various war "Which vice and folly thall upon them wage "As on the perilous march of life they fate,
With prudent lore fore-arming ev'ry age "'Gaint Pleafure's treach'rous joys and Pain's "embattled rage.
"Then fhall my youthful fons, to wifdom led "By fair example and ingenuous praite,
With willing feet the paths of duty tread,
Fir'd with th' idea of her future fame,
I ask and with, not to appear
More beauteous, rich, or gay Lord, make me wifer ev'ry year,
And better ev'ry day.
No more, my fon, the rural reed employ,
60. A Moral Reflection. Written on the firft For hark! high-thron'd on yon majeftic walls,
SEVENTEEN Hundred Eighty-one
Is now for ever past; Seventeen Hundred Eighty-two Will fly away as fast.
But whether life's uncertain scene
Or whether fick nefs, pain, or health,
Or whether poverty or wealth,
Too well I know what precious hours
But virtue is with glory crown'd,
What awful thoughts! what truth fublime!
From her loofe hair the dropping dew the prefs'd,
Let*** boast the patrons of her name,
§61. The Triumph of Ifis, occafioned by Ifis, an Where Cam, meand'ring thro' the matted reeds, Elegy. T. WARTON.
With loit'ring wave his groves of laurel feeds.
O! let me well improve my time !
Oh! let me die in peace!
Quid mihi nefcio quam, proprio cum Tybride, Romam
To fake yon towers when malice rears her creft,
Still fing, O Cam, your fav'rite freedom's caufe,
Though wakeful vengeance watch my cryftal
E'en late when Radcliffe's delegated train Aufpicious fhone in Ifis' happy plain; [thrine, When yon proud" dome, fair learning's ampleft Beneath its attic roofs receiv'd the Nine; Was rapture mute, or ceas'd the glad acclaim, To Radcliffe due, and Ifis' honour'd name? What free-born crowds adorn'd the festive day, Nor blush'd to wear my tributary bay! How each brave breaft with honeft ardours heav'd, When Sheldon's fane the patriot band receiv'd; While, as we loudly hail'd the chosen few, Rome's awful fenate rush'd upon the view!
O may the day in lateft annals fhine, That made a Beaufort and an Harley mine; That bade them leave the loftier fcene awhile, The pomp of guiltlefs ftate, the patriot toil, For bleeding Albion's aid the fage defign, To hold fhort dalliance with the tuneful Nine! Then mufic left her filver fphere on high, And bore cach strain of triumph from the sky; Swell'd the loud fong, and to my chiefs around Pour'd the full peans of mellifluous found. My Naiads blythe the dying accents caught, And liftening danced beneath their pearly grot: In gentler eddies play'd my confcious wave, And all my reeds their fofteft whispers gave; Each lay with brighter green adorn'd my bow'rs, And breath'd a fresher fragrance on my flow'rs.
But lo! at once the pealing concerts ceafe, And crowded theatres are hufh'd in peace. See, on yon fage how all attentive ftand, To catch his parting eye, and waving hand. Hark! he begins, with all a Tully's art, To pour the dictates of a Cato's heart. Skill'd to pronounce what nobleft thoughts infpire, He blends the fpeaker's with the patriot's fire; Bold to conceive, nor tim'rous to conceal, What Britons dare to think he dares to tell. 'Tis his alike the car and eyes to charm, To win with action, and with fenfe to warm. Untaught in flow'ry periods to difpenfe The lulling founds of fweet impertinence: In frowns or files he gains an equal prize, Nor meanly fears to fall, nor creeps to rife; Bids happier days to Aibion be reftor'd, Bids ancient juftice rear her radiant fword ; From me, as from my country, claims applause, And makes an Oxford's a Britannia's caufe.
In vain the foreft lent its ftatclicft pride,
Ye fretted pinnacles, ye fanes fublime,
Ye high-arch'd walks, where oft the whispers
While arms like thefe my ftedfaft fages wield, While mine is Truth's impenetrable fhield; Say, thall the puny champion fond y dare To wage with force like this fcholaftic war? Still vainly fcribble on with pert pretence, With all the rage of pedant impotence? Say, fhall I fofter this domeftic pest, This parricide, that wounds a mother's breaft? Thus in fome gallant fhip, that long has bore Britain's victorious cross from fhore to thore, By chance, beneath her close sequefter'd cells Some low-born worm, a lurking mifchief dwells; Eats his blind way, and faps with fecret guile The deep foundations of the floating pile.
Of harps unfeen have fwept the poet's ear;
Ev'n now, confefs'd to my adoring eyes, In awful ranks thy gifted fons arife. Tuning to knightly tale his British reeds, Thy genuine bards immortal Chaucer leads: His hoary head o'erlooks the gazing quire, And beams on all around celeftial fire. With graceful ftp fee Addifon advance, The fweeteft child of Attic elegance : See Chillingworth the depths of doubt explore, And Selden ope the rolls of ancient lore: To all but his belov'd einbrace deny'd, See Locke lead Reafon, his majestic bride: See Hammond pierce religion's golden mine, And spread the treafur'd itores of Truth divine.
All who to Albion gave the arts of peace, And beft the labours plann'd of letter'd eafe; Who taught with truth, or with perfuafion mov'd, Who footh'd with numbers, or with fenfe improv'd; Who rang'd the pow'rs of reafon, or refin'd All that adorn'd or humaniz'd the mind; Each priest of health, that mix'd the balmy bowl, To rear frail man, and ftay the fleeting foul; All crowd around, and, echoing to the sky, Hail, Oxford, hail! with filial tranfport cry.
And fee yon fapient train! with lib'ral aim, 'Twas theirs new plans of liberty to frame; And on the gothic gloom of flavish way To fhed the dawn of intellectual day. With mild debate cach mufing feature glows, And well-weigh'd counfels mark their meaning brows.
"Lo! thefe the leaders of thy patriot line,"
Nor all the tasks of thoughtful peace engage, 'Tis thine to form the hero as the fage. I fee the fable-fuited prince advance With lilies crown'd, the spoils of bleeding France, Edward. The Mufes in yon cloister's fhade Bound on his maiden thigh the martial blade: Bade him the fteel for British freedom draw; And Oxford taught the deeds that Creffy faw.
And fee, great father of the facred band, The Patriot King before me feems to ftand. He, by the bloom of this gay vale beguil'd, That cheer'd with lively green the fhaggy wild, Hither of yore, forlorn for gotten maid, The Mufe in prattling infancy convey'd; From Vandal rage the helpless virgin bore, And fix'd her cradle on my friendly fhore: Soon grew the maid beneath his foft'ring hand, Soon ftream'd her bleifings o'er the enlighten'd Though fimple was the dome, where firft to dwell She deign'd, and rude her early Saxon cell, Lo! now the holds her state in fculptur'd bow'rs, And proudly lifts to heaven her hundred tow'rs. 'Twas Alfred firft, with letters and with laws, Adorn'd, as he advanced, his country's caufe: He bade relent the Briton's ftubborn foul, And footh'd to foft fociety's controul A rough untutor'd age. With raptur'd eye Elate he views his laurel'd progeny: Serene he fmiles to find, that not in vain He form'd the rudiments of learning's reign: Himself he marks in each ingenuous breast, With all the founder in the race exprefs'd; Confcious he fees fair Freedom ftill furvive In yon bright domes, ill-fated fugitive! (Glorious, as when the Goddess pour'd the beam Unfully'd on his ancient diadem) Well pleas'd, that at his own Pierian fprings She refts her weary feet, and plumes her wings; That here at laft the takes her deftin'd ftand, Here deigns to linger ere the leave the land.
§ 62. Infeription in a Hermitage, at Anfley-Hall, in Warwick/bire. T. WARTON.
BENEATH this ftony roof reclin'd,
I footh to peace my penfive mind: And while, to fhade my lowly cave, Embow'ring elms their umbrage wave; And while the maple difh is mine, The beechen cup, unftain'd with wine; I fcorn the gay licentious crowd, Nor heed the toys that deck the proud. Within my limits lone and still, The blackbird pipes in artless trill Faft by my couch, congenial guest, The wren has wove her moffy neft; From bufy fcenes and brighter skies, To lurk with innocence, the flies; Here hopes in fafe repofe to dwell, Nor aught fufpects the fylvan cell.
At morn I take my cuftom'd round,
At eve, within yon ftudious nook,
§ 63. Monody, written near Stratford up
Avon. T. WARTON.
AVON, thy rural views, thy pastures wild,
The willows that o'erhang thy twilight edge, Their boughs entangling with th' embattled fedge;
Thy brink with wat'ry foliage quaintly fring'd,
Like fpe&tres fwarming to the wizard's hall; And flowly pace, and point with trembling hand The wounds ill-cover'd by the purple pail. Before me Pity feems to stand
A weeping mourner, fmote with anguish fore,