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Yet still one gen'ral cry the skies affails, And gain and grandeur load the tainted gales; Few know the toiling ftatefman's fear or care, Th'infidious rival and the gaping heir.
Once † more, Democritus, arife on earth,
With cheerful wifdom and inftructive mirth,
See motley life in modern trappings dreft,
And feed with varied fools th' eternal jeft:
Thou who couldst laugh where want enchain'd
Toil crush'd conceit, and man was of a piece;
Where wealth unlov'd without a mourner died;
And scarce a fycophant was fed by pride;
Where ne'er was known the form of mock debate,
Or feen a new-made mayor's unwieldy state;
Where change of fav'rites made no change of laws,
And fenates heard before they judg'd a caufe;
How wouldst thou shake at Britain's modifh tribe,
Dart the quick taunt, and edge the piercing gibe?
Attentive, truth and nature to detery,
And pierce each scene with philofophic eye,
To thee were folemn toys or empty fhow,
The robes of pleafure and the veils of woe:
All aid the farce, and all thy mirth maintain,
Whofe joys are caufelefs, or whofe griefs are vain.
Such was the fcorn that fill'd the fage's mind,
Renew'd at every glance on human kind;
How just that fcorn ere yet thy voice declare,
Search every state, and canvaís ev'ry pray'r.
Unnumber'd fuppliants crowd Preferment's
Athirst for wealth, and burning to be great;
Delufive Fortune hears th' inceffant call,
They mount, they fhine, evaporate, and fall.
On ev'ry ftage the foes of peace attend,
Hate dogs their flight, and infult mocks their end.
Love ends with hope, the finking statefman's door
Pours in the morning worshipper no more;
For growing names the weekly fcribbler lies,
To growing wealth the dedicator flics;
From ev'ry room defcends the painted face,
That hung the bright palladium of the place,
And fmok'd in kitchens, or in auctions fold,
To better features yields the frame of gold;
For now no more we trace in ev'ry line
Heroic worth, benevolence divine:
The form distorted juftifies the fall,
And deteftation rids th' indignant wall.
But will not Britain hear the last appeal,
Sign her foes doom, or guard her fav rites zcal?
Thro' Freedom's fons no more remonftrance rings,
Degrading nobles and controuling kings;
Our fupple tribes reprefs their patriot throats,
And afk no queftions but the price of votes;
With weekly libels and feptennial ale,
Their with is full to riot and to rail.
In full-blown dignity, fee Wolfey ftand, Law in his voice, and fortune in his hand : To him the church, the realm, their pow'rs conThro' him the rays of regal bounty fhine; [fign,
Turn'd by his nød the stream of honour flows,
His fmile alone fecurity bestows:
Still to new heights his reftlefs wishes tow'r;
Claim leads to claim, and pow'r advances pow'r;
Till conqueft unrefifted ceas'd to please,
And rights fubmitted left him none to feize.
At length his fovereign frowns-the train of ftate
Mark the keen glance, and watch the fign to hate.
Where-e'er he turns he meets a ftranger's eye,
His fuppliants fcorn him, and his followers fly;
Now drops at once the pride of awful state,
The golden canopy, the glitt'ring plate,
The regal palace, the luxurious beard,
The liv'ried army, and the menial lord.
With age, with cares, with maladies oppreft,
He feeks the refuge of monaftic reft.
Grief aids difeafe, remember'd folly ftings,
And his laft fighs reproach the faith of kings.
Speak thou, whole thoughts at humble peace
Shall Wolfey's wealth with Wolfey's end be thine?
Or liv'ft thou now, with fafer pride content,
The wifeft juftice on the banks of Trent?
For why did Wolfey, near the fteeps of fate,
On weak foundations raife th' enormous weight?
Why but to fink, beneath misfortune's blow,
With louder ruin to the gulphs below?
What § gave great Villiers to th' affaffin's knife,
And fix'd difeafe on Harley's clofing life?
What murder'd Wentworth, and what exil'd
By kings protected, and to kings ally'd?
What but their wifh indulg'd in courts to fhine,
And pow'r too great to keep, or to refign?
When I firft the college rolls receive his name, The young enthufiaft quits his eafe for fame; Refiftlefs burns the fever of renown, Caught from the ftrong contagion of the gown: O'er Bodley's dome his future labours spread, And Bacon's manfion trembles o'er his head. Are thefe thy views proceed, illuftrious youth, And Virtue guard thee to the throne of Truth! Yet fhould thy foul indulge the gen'rous heat, Fill captive Science yields her latt retreat; Should Reafon guide thee with her brightest ray, And pour on mifty Doubt refiftlefs day: Should no falle kindnefs lure to loofe delight, Nor praife relax, nor difficulty fright; Should tempting Novelty thy cell refrain, And Sloth effufe her opiate fumes in vain; Should Beauty blunt on fops her fatal dart, Nor claim the triumph of a letter'd heart; Should no Difeafe thy torpid veins invade, Nor Melancholy's phantoms haunt thy fhade; Yet hope not life from grief or danger free, Nor think the doom of man revers'd for thee: Deign on the paffing world to turn thine eyes, And paufe a while from learning, to be wife; There mark what ills the fcholar's e affail, Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the jail.
+ Ver. 28-55.
Ver. 56-107. Ver. 108-113. || Ver. 114-132.
There is a tradition, that the fudy of friar Bacon, built on an arch over the bridge, will fall, when a
man greater than Bacon fhail pafs under it.
Sce nations flowly wife, and meanly juft,
To buried merit raife the tardy bust.
If dreams yet flatter, once again attend,
Hear Lydiat's life, and Galileo's end.
Nor deem, when Learning her laft prize bestows,
The glitt ring eminence exempt from foes;
Sce, when the vulgar 'fcapes, defpis'd or aw'd,
Rebellion's vengeful talons feize on Laud.
From meaner minds, tho' finaller fines content,
The plunder'd palace or fequefter'd rent ;
Mark'd out by dang'rous parts he meets the fhock
And fatal Learning leads him to the block:
Around his tomb let Art and Genius weep,
But hear his death, ye blockheads, hear and fleep.
The+feftal blazes, the triumphal fhow,
The ravish'd ftandard, and the captive foe,
The fenate's thanks, the gazette's pompous tale,
With force refiftlefs o'er the brave prevail.
Such bribes the rapid Greek o'er Alia whirl'd,
For fuch the fteady Romans fhook the world;
For fuch in diftant lands the Britons shine,
And ftain with blood the Danube or the Rhine;
This pow'r has praife, that virtue fcarce can warm
Till fame fupplies the univerfal charm.
Yet Reason frowns on War's unequal game,
Where wafted nations raife a fingle name,
And mortgag'd ftates their grandfires wreaths re-
From age to age in everlasting debt; [gret,
Wreaths which at laft the dear-bought right con-
To ruft on medals, or on stones decay. [vey
On what foundation ftands the warrior's
How just his hopes, let Swedish Charles decide;
A frame of adamant, a foul of fire,
No dangers fright him, and no labours tire;
O'er love, o'er fear, extends his wide domain,
Unconquer'd lord of pleasure and of pain;
No joys to him pacific fceptres yields,
War founds the trump, he rushes to the field;
Behold furrounding kings their pow'r combine,
And one capitulate, and one refign; [vain;
Peace courts his hand, but fpreads her charms in
"Think nothing gain'd, he cries, till nought re-
"On Mofcow's walls till Gothic ftandards fly,
"And all be mine beneath the polar íky."
The march begins in military state,
And nations on his eye fufpended wait;
Stern Famine guards the folitary coaft,
And Winter barricades the realms of Froft;
He comes, nor want nor cold his courfe delay;
Hide, blushing Glory, hide Pultowa's day :
The vanquish'd hero leaves his broken bands,
And thews his miferies in diftant lands;
Condemn'd a needy fupplicant to wait,
While ladies interpose, and flaves debate.
But did not Chance at length her error mend?
Did no fubverted empire mark his end?
Did rival monarchs give the fatal wound?
Or hoftile millions prefs him to the ground?
His fall was deftin'd to a barren ftrand,
A petty fortrefs, and a dubious hand;
He left the name, at which the world grew pale,
To point a moral, or adorn a tale.
All times their fcenes of pompous woes afford,
From Perfia's tyrant, to Bavaria's lord.
In gay hoftility, and barb'rous pride,
With half mankind embattled at his fide,
Great Xerxes comes to feize the certain prey,
And ftarves exhaufted regions in his way;
Attendant Flatt'ry counts his myriads o'er,
Till counted myriads footh his pride no more;
Fresh praife is try'd till madnefs fires his mind,
The waves he lafhes, and enchains the wind;
New pow'rs are claim'd, new pow'rs are still be.
Till rude refiftance lops the fpreading god;
The daring Greeks deride the martial fhow,
And heap their vallies with the gaudy foe;
Th'infulted fea with humbler thoughts he gains,
A fingle fkiff to fpeed his flight remains;
Th' incumber'd oar fcarce leaves the dreaded coaft
Through purple billows and a floating hoft.
The bold Bavarian, in a lucklefs hour,
Tries the dread fummits of Cæfarean pow'r,
With unexpected legions burfts away,
And fees defenceless realms receive his fway;
Short fway! fair Auftria fpreads her mournful
The queen, the beauty, fets the world in arms;
From hill to hill the beacon's roufing blaze
Spreads wide the hope of plunder and of praise;
The fierce Croatian, and the wild Huffar,
With all the fons of ravage crowd the war;
The baffled prince in honour's flatt'ring bloom
Of hafty greatnefs finds the fatal doom,
His foes derifion, and his fubjects blame,
And steals to death from anguifh and from shame,
Enlarge my life with multitude of days,
In health, in fick nefs, thus the fuppliant prays;
Ilides from himself his ftate, and thuns to know,
That life protracted is protracted woe.
Time hovers o'er, impatient to destroy,
And shuts up all the paffages of joy:
In vain their gifts the bounteous feafons pour,
The fruit autumnal, and the vernal flow`r-
With liftlefs eyes the dotard views the store,
He views, and wonders that they please no more;
A very learned divine and mathematician, fellow of New College Oxford, and rector of Okerton near Banbury. He wrote, among many others, a Latin Treatife De Natura Cæli, &c. in which he attacked the fentiments of Scaliger and Aritotle; not bearing to hear it urged that fome things are true in philofophy and falle in divinity. He made above fix hundred fermons on the harmony of the Evangelifts. Being unfuccefful in publishing his works, he lay in the prifon of Bocardo at Oxford, and the king's-bench, till bishop Ulher, Dr. Laud, Sir William Bofwell, and Dr. Pink, releated him by paying his debts. He petitioned King Charles I. to be fent into Ethiopia, &c. to procure MSS. Having spoken in favour of monarchy and bishops, he was plun dered by the parliament forces, and twice carried away prifoner from his rectory; and afterwards had not fhirt to fhift him in three months, unless he borrowed it, and he died very poor in 1546. Ver. 147-167. § Ver. 168-187.
+ Ver. 133-146,
Now pall the taftelefs meats, and joyless wines, And Luxury with fighs her flave refigns. Approach, ye minstrels, try the foothing ftrain, Difufe the tuneful lenitives of pain: No founds, alas! would touch th' impervious ear, Though dancing mountains witnefs'd Orpheus Nar lute nor lyre his feeble pow'rs attend, Nor fweeter mufic of a virtuous friend : But everlafting dictates crowd his tongue, Perverfely grave, or pofitively wrong. The fill returning tale, and ling'ring jeft, Perplex the fawning niece and pamper'd guest, While growing hopes fcarce awe the gath'ring And fcarce a legacy can bribe to hear; [fneer, The watchful guests ftill hint the laft offence, The daughter's petulance, the fon's expence, Imp ove his heady rage with treach'rous skill, And mould his paffions till they make his will. Unnumber'd maladies his joints invade, Lay fiege to life, and prefs the dire blockade; But unextinguifh'd Av'rice ftill remains, And dreaded losses aggravate his pains; He turns, with anxious heart and crippled hands, His bonds of debt, and mortgages of lands; Or views his coffers with fufpicious eyes, Lalocks his gold, and counts it till he dies.
But grant, the virtues of a temp rate prime Bls with an age exempt from fcorn or crime; An age that melts with unperceiv'd decay, And glides in modeft innocence away; Whole peaceful day Benevolence endears, Whole night congratulating Confcience cheers; The gen'ral fav vite as the gen'ral friend: Such age there is, and who fhall with its end? Yet ev'n on this her load Misfortune flings, To prefs the weary minutes flagging wings; New forrow rifes as the day returns,
Who frown with vanity, who fmile with art,
And afk the lateft fashion of the heart,
What care, what rules your heedlefs charms fhall
A fifter fickens, or a daughter mourns.
Now kindred Merit fills the fable bier,
Now lacerated Friendship claims a tear.
Year chafes year, decay purfues decay,
Stil drops fome joy from with'ring life away;
New forms arive, and diff 'rent views engage,
Superfluous lags the vet'ran on the stage,
Til pitying Nature figns the last release,
And bids afflicted worth retire to peace.
But few there are whom hours like thefe await,
Who fet unclouded in the gulphs of Fate.
Frm Lydia's monarch fhould the fearch defcend,
to regard his end,
In life's laft fcene what prodigies furprife,
Fears of the brave, and follies of the wife!
From Marlb'rough's eyes the ftreams of dotage
And Swift expires a driv❜ler and a fhow. [flow,
The teeming mother, anxious for her race,
Begs for each birth the fortune of a face:
Yet Vane could tell what ills from beauty fpring:
And Sedley curs'd the form that pleas'd a king.
Ye nymphs of rofy lips and radiant eyes,
Whom Pleafure keeps too bufy to be wife,
Whom joys with foft varieties invite,
By day the frolic, and the dance by night,
* Ver, 289-345,
Each nymph your rival, and each youth your flave
Againft your fame with fondnefs hate combines,
The rival batters, and the lover mines.
With diftant voice neglected Virtue calls,
Lefs heard and lefs, the faint remonstrance falls;
Tir'd with contempt, the quits the flipp'ry rein,
And Pride and Prudence take her feat in vain.
In crowd at once, where none the pafs defend,
The harmlefs freedom, and the private friend.
The guardians yield, by force fuperior ply'd;
To Int'reft, Prudence; and to Flatt'ry, Pride.
Here Beauty falls betray'd, defpis'd, diftreft,
And hifling Infamy proclaims the reft.
Where then shall Hope and Fear their objects find?
Muft dull Sufpenfe corrupt the ftagnant mind?
Muft helpless man, in ignorance fedate,
Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate?
Muft no diflike alarm, no withes rife,
No cries invoke the mercies of the ikes?
Enquirer, ceafe, petitions yet remain
Which Heav'n may hear, nor deem religion vain.
Still raife for good the fupplicating voice,
But leave to Heav'n the meafure and the choice,
Safe in his pow'r, whofe eyes difcern afar
The fecret ambuth of a fpecious pray's,
Implore his aid, in his decifions reft,
Secure whate'er he gives, he gives the best.
Yet when the sense of sacred presence fires,
And ftrong devotion to the fkics afpires,
Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind,
Obedient paffions, and a will refign'd;
For love, which fearce collective man can fill;
For patience, fov'reign o'er tranfmmuted ill;
For faith, that, panting for a happier feat,
Counts death kind Nature's fignal of retreat:
Thefe goods for man the laws of Heav'n ordain,
Thefe goods he grants, who grants the pow'r to
With thefe celeftial Wifdom calms the mind, And makes the happiness the does not find.
Of death beats flow! heard ye the note profound? It paufes now; and now, with rifing kell,
Yes-Coventry is dead. Attend the ftrain,
Flings to the hollow gale its fullen found.
Daughters of Albion! ye that, light as air, So oft have tripp'd in her fantastic train,
With hearts as gay, and faces half as fair: For fhe was fair beyond your brightest bloom (This envy owns, fince now her bloom is fled); Fair as the forms that, wove in Fancy's loom, Float in light vifion round the poet's head.
Whene'er with foft ferenity the fmil'd,
Or caught the orient blufh of quick furprise, How iweetly mutable, how brightly wild,
The liquid luftre darted from her eyes! Each look, each motion, wak'd a new-born grace, That o'er her form its tranfient glory caft: Some lovelier wonder foon ufurp'd the place,
Chas'd by a charm ftill lovelier than the laft. That bell again! It tells us what he is;
On what the was, no more the ftrain prolong: Luxuriant fancy, paufe! an hour like this
Demands the tribute of a ferious fong. Maria claims it from that fable bier,
Where cold and wan the flumb'rer refts her head;
In still small whispers to refiction's car
She breathes the folemn dictates of the dead. O catch the awful notes, and lift them loud!
Proclaim the theme by fage, by fool, rever'd; Hear it, ye young, ye vain, ye great, ye proud! 'Tis Nature speaks, and Nature will be heard. Yes; ve fhall hear, and tremble as ye hear,
While, high with health, your hearts exulting Een in the midfit of pleafure's mad career, [leap; The mental monitor fhall wake and weep! For fay, than Coventry's propitious star,
What brighter planet on your births arofe? Or gave of fortune's gifts an ampler share,
In life to lavish, or by death to lofe? Early to lose! While, borne on busy wing,
Ye fip the nectar of cach varying blooin; Nor fear, while bafking in the beams of fpring,
The wintry ftorm that fweeps you to the tomb; Think of her fate! revere the heavenly hand
That led her hence, tho' foon, by steps fo flow; Long at her couch Death took his patient ftand, And menac'd oft, and oft withheld the blow: To give reflection time, with lenient art,
Each fond delufion from her foul to steal; Teach her from folly peaceably to part,
And wean her from a world the lov'd fo well. Say, are you fure his mercy fhall extend
To you fo long a fpan? Álas, ye figh! [friend, Make then, while yet ye may, your God your
And learn with equal cafe to fleep or die! Nor think the Mufe, whofe fober voice ye hear, Contracts with bigot frown her fullen brow; Cafts round religion's orb the mifts of fear, glow. Or fhades with horrors what with fmiles thould No-she would warn you with feraphic fire, Heirs as ye are of heaven's eternal day; Would bid you boldly to that heaven afpire,
Not fink and flumber in your cells of clay. Know, ye were form'd to range yon azure field, In yon ethereal founts of blifs to lave: Force then, fecure in faith's protecting shield,
The fting from death, the vict'ry from the grave! Is this the bigot's rant? Away, ye vain! [fteep: Your hopes, your fears, in doubt, in dulnefs
Go footh your fouls in fick nefs, grief, or pain, With the fad folace of eternal fleep!
Yet will I praife you, triflers as you are,
More than thofe preachers of your fav'rite creed, Who proudly fwell the brazen throat of war,
Who form the phalanx, bid the battle bleed, Nor with for more; who conquer but to die.
Hear, Folly, hear, and triumph in the tale! Like you they reason, not like you enjoy
The breeze of blifs that fills your filken fail: On pleasure's glitt'ring ftream ye gaily fteer
Your little courfe to cold oblivion's fhore; They dare the ftorm, and thro' th' inclement year Stem the rough surge, and brave the torrent's
Is it for glory? That juft Fate denies;
Long muff the warrior moulder in his fhroud, Ere from her trump the heaven-breath'd accents That lift the hero from the fighting crowd! [rife. Is it his grafp of empire to extend?
To curb the fury of infulting foes? Ambition, ceafe! the idle contest end:
'Tis but a kingdom thou canst win or lofe. And why muft murder'd myriads lofe their all
(If life be all), why defolation low'r With famish'd frown on this affrighted ball,
That thou mayft flame the meteor of an hour? Go, wiser ye, that flutter life away,
Crown with the mantling juice the goblet high! Weave the light dance, with feftive freedom gay,
And live your moment, fince the next ye die! Yet know, vain fceptics! know, th' Almighty Mind,
Who breath'd on man a portion of his fire, Bade his free foul, by earth nor time confin'd, To heav'n, to immortality aspire.
Nor fhall the pile of hope his mercy rear'd
By vain philofophy be c'er deftroy'd: Eternity, by all or with d or fear'd,
Shall be by all or fulfer'd or enjoy'd!
NOTE, In a book of French verfes, intitled, Oeuvres du Philosophe de Sans Souci, and lately reprinted at Berlin by authority, under the title of Poifies Diveries, may be found an Epiftle to Marthal Keith, written profelfedly against the the whole, take the following lines: immortality of the foul. By way of fpecimen of
De l'avenir, cher Keith, jugeons par le paffé:
Comme avant que je fufle il n'avoit point penfe;
De même, après ma mort, quandtoutes mes parties
Par la coruption feront anéanties,
Par un même deftin il ne peufera plus!
Non, rien n'eft plus certain, foyons en convaincu.
It is to this Epiftle that the latter part of the
102. Elegy to a young Nobleman leaving the Univerfity. MASON.
ERE yet, ingenuous youth, thy steps retire [vale From Cain's fimooth margie, and the peaceful
Where Science call'd thee to her studious quire,, Be still thyfelf: that open path of truth,
And met thee mufing in her cloifters pale;
O let thy friend (and may he boaft the name !)
Breathe from his artlefs reed one parting lay:
A lay like this thy early virtues claim,
And this let voluntary friendship pay.
Yet know, the time arrives, the dang'rous time,
When all those virtues, op'ning now so fair,
Tranfplanted to the world's tempeftuous clime,
Muit learn each paffion's boift'rous breath to
Which led thee here, let manhood firm purfuc;
Retain the fweet fimplicity of youth;
And all thy virtue dictates, dare to do.
Where fear or int'reft bids, behold they fhine;
Now grace a Cromwell's, now a Charles's brows.
Born with too gen'rous or too mean a heart,
Dryden! in vain to thee thofe ftores were lent;
Thy fweetest numbers but a trifling art;
Thy strongest diction idly eloquent.
The fimpleft lyre, if truth directs its lays,
Warbles a melody ne'er heard from thine :
Not to difguft with falfe or venal praife,
Was Parnell's modeft fame, and may be mine.
Go then, my friend, nor let thy candid breast
Condemn me, if I check the plaufive ftring;
Go to the wayward world; complete the reft;
Be what the pureft mufe would with to fing.
Still fcorn, with confcious pride, the mask of art
On vice's front let fearful caution low'r;
And teach the diffident, difcrecter part
Of knaves that plot, and fools that fawn for
So, round thy brow when age's honours fpread,
When death's cold hand unftrings thy Malon's
When the green turf lies lightly on his head,
Thy worth fhall fome fuperior bard infpire:
He to the ampleft bounds of time's domain
On rapture's plume fhall give thy name to fly;
For truft, with rev'rence truft, this Sabine ftrain,
The Mufe forbids the virtuous man to die."
There, if ambition, peftilent and pale,
Or luxury fhould taint their vernal glow;
If cold felf-intereft, with her chilling gale,
Should blast th’unfolding bloffoms ere they blow;
If mimic hues, by art or fashion spread,
Their genuine fimple colouring should supply;
O may with them thefe laureate honours fade,
And with them (if it can) my friendship die!§
Then do not blame, if, tho' thyfelf infpire,
Cautious I ftrike the panegyric ftring;
The Mufe full oft purfues a meteor fire,
And, vainly vent'rous, foars on waxen wing:
Too actively awake at friendship's voice,
The poet's bofom pours the fervent ftrain,
Till fad reflection blames the hatty choice,
And oft invokes oblivion's aid in vain.
Call we the fhade of Pope from that blest bow'r,
Where thron'd he fits with many a tuneful fage;
Ak, if he ne'er bemoans that hapless hour
When St. John's name illumin'd glory's page.
Ak, if the wretch, who dar'd his mem'ry stain;
Ak, if his country's, his religion's foe,
Deferv'd the meed that Marlbro' fail'd to gain;
The deathlefs meed he only could beftow:
The bard will tell thee, the mifguided praife
Clouds the celeftial funfhine of his breast;
Een now, repentant of his erring lays,
He heaves a figh amid the realms of rest.
If Pope thro' friendship fail'd, indignant view,
Yet pity, Dryden-hark, whene er he fings,
How adulation drops her courtly dew
On titled rhymers and inglorious kings!
See from the depths of his exhauftlefs mine,
His glitt'ring ftores the tuneful fpendthrift
The Choice of Itercules: from the Greek
of Prodicus. Bp. LowтH.
WOW had the fon of Jove, mature, attain'd
The joyful prime; when youth, clate and gay,
Steps into life, and follows unreftrain'd
Where pallion leads, or prudence points the way.
In the pure mind, at thofe ambiguous years,
Or vice, rank weed, fuift ftrikes her pois nous
Or haply virtue's op'ning bud appears [root;
By juft degrees, fair bloom of fairest fruit !
For, if on youth's untainted thought impreft,
The gen'rous purpofe ftill fhall warm the manly
As on a day, reflecting on his age
For higheft deeds now ripe, Alcides fought
Retirement, nurfe of contemplation fage,
Step following step, and thought fucceeding
Mufing, with fteady pace the youth pursued
His walk, and loft in meditation stray'd
Far in a lonely vale, with folitude
Converfing; while intent his mind furvey'd
The dubious path of life: before him lay, [way.
Here virtue's rough afcent, there pleafure's flow 'ry
Much did the view divide his wav'ring mind:
Now glow'd his breaft with gen'rous thirst of
Now love of cafe to fofter thoughts inclin'd [fame;
When, lo! far off two female forms he fpies:
His yielding foul, and quench'd the rifing flame:
Direct to him their fteps they feem to bear;
Both large and tall, exceeding human fize;
Both, far exceeding human beauty, fair.
Graceful, yet each with diffrent grace they move;
This ftriking facred awe; that, fofter winning love.
The first in native dignity furpafs'd;
Artlefs and unadorn'd the pleas'd the more;
Health o'er her looks a genuine luftre caft;
A veft more white than new-fallen fnow the
Auguft the trod, yet modeft was her air; [wore;
Screne her eye, yet darting heavenly fire.
Still he drew near; and nearer ftill more fair,
More mild, appear'd: yet fuch as might inspire
Pleafure corrected with an awful fear;
Majeftically fweet, and amiably fevere.