"fcale

"With steady prudence holds, and temp'rate fway. "And when his courfe of earthly honour's run, "With lenient hand fhall Frederic footh your care, "Rich in each princely quality, mature "In years, and happieft in nuptial choice. "Thence too arife new hopes; a playful troop "Circles his hearth, sweet pledges of that bed "Which Faith, and Joy, and thousand Virtues "guard.

"His be the care t'inform their ductile minds "With worthieft thoughts, and point the ways "of honour.

"How often shall he hear with fresh delight "Their earnest tales, or watch their rifing paffions "With timorous attention; then shall tell “Of justice, fortitude, and public weal; "And oft the while each rigid precept smooth "With winning tokens of parental love!"

Thus my o'erweening heart the fecret stores Of Britain's hope explor'd,while my ftrain'd fight Purfued her fading hills, till wrapt in mist They gently funk beneath the fwelling tide. Nor flept thofe thoughts, whene'er in other climes I mark'd the cruel wafte of foul oppreffion, Saw nobleft fpirits, and goodlicft faculties, To vaffalage and loathfome fervice bound. Then confcious preference rofe; then northward My eye, to gratulate my natal foil.

[turn'd

How have I chid with froward cagerness
Each veering blaft, that from my hand withheld
The well-known characters of fome lov'd friend,
Tho' diftant, not unmindful! Still I learn'd,
Delighted, what each patriot plan devis'd
Of arts, or glory, or diffufive commerce.
Nor wanted its endearment ev'ry tale
Of lightest import. But, oh heavy change!
What notices come now? Diftracted fcenes
Of helpless forrow, folemn fad accounts;
How fair Augufta watch'd the weary night,
Tending the bed of Anguifh; how great George
Wept with his infant progeny around;
How heav'd the orphan's and the widow's figh,
That follow'd Frederic to the filent tomb!

For well was Frederic lov'd, and well deferv'd.
His voice was ever fweet, and on his steps
Attended ever the alluring grace
Of gentle lowlinefs and focial zeal.
Hum fhall remember oft the labour'd hind,
Relating to his mates each cafual act
Of courteous bounty. Him th'artificer,
Plying the varied woof in fullen fadnefs,
Tho' wont to carrol many a ditty fweet.
Soon too the mariner, who many moons
Has counted, beating still the foamy furge,
And treads at last the wifh'd-for beach, fhall stand
Appall'd at the fad tale, and foon shall steal
Down his rough check th’involuntary tear.
Be this our folace yet-all is not dead;
The bright memorial lives: for his example
Shall Hymen trim his torch, domeftic praise
Be countenanc'd, and virtue fairer fhew.
Ju age fucceeding, when another George,

Of Britain's peers conven'd, fhall pass befide Thofe hallow'd fpires, whofe gloomy vaults inclose,

Shrouded in fleep, pale rows of scepter'd kings,
Oft to his fenfe the fweet paternal voice
And long-remember'd features fhall return;
Then fhall his generous breast be new inflam'd
To acts of highest worth and highest fame.

Thefe plaintive ftrains, from Albion far away,
I lonely meditate at even tide;
Nor skill'd nor ftudious of the raptur'd lay;
But ftill rememb'ring oft the magic founds,
Well-meafur'd to the chime of Dorian lute,
Or paft'ral stop, which erft I lov'd to hear
On Ifis' border'd mead, where dips by fits
The ftooping ofier in her hasty stream.

Hail, Wolfey's fpacious Dome! hail, ever fam'd For faithful nurture, and truth's facred lore, Much honour'd parent! You my duteous zeal Accept, if haply in thy laureat wreath You deign to interweave this humble song.

THE

HE festive roar of laughter, the warm glow Of brisk-eyed joy,and friend fhip's genial bowl, Wit's feafon'd converfe, and the liberal flow Of unfufpicious youth, profufe of foul, Delight not ever; from the boisterous scene Of riot far, and Comus' wild uproar, From folly's crowd, whofe vacant brow ferene Was never knit to wifdom's frowning lore, Permit me, ye time-hallow'd domes, ye piles

Of rude magnificence, your folemn reft,
Amid your fretted vaults and length'ning ifles
Lonely to wander; no unholy guest
That means to break, with facrilegious tread,
The marble flumbers of your monumented dead,
Permit me, with fad mufings, that infpire

Blamelefs to wake, and with the Orphean lyre,
Unlabour'd numbers apt, your filence drear
Fitly attemper'd, footh the merciless ear
Of Hades, and stern death, whose iron fway

All that with oary fin cleave their smooth way

Great nature owns thro' all her wide domain;

Through the green bofom of the spawny main, And thofe that to the ftreaming æther spread,

In many a wheeling glide, their feathery fail; And thofe that creep; and those that statelier tread, That roam o'er foreft, hill, or browsy dale; The victims each of ruthless fate must fall; E'en God's own image, man, high paramount of all.

And ye, the young, the giddy, and the gay, That ftartle from the fleepful lid of light The curtain'd rest, and with the dissonant bray Of Bacchus, and loud jollity, affright

Yon radiant goddefs, that now fhoots among Thefe many-window'd ifles her glimmering beam;

Know, that or e'er its starr'd career along
Thrice fhall have roll'd her filver wheeled team,

Some

Some parent breaft may heave the answering figh,
To the flow paufes of the funeral knoll;
E'en now black Atropos, with fcowling eye,

Roars in the laugh, and revels o'er the bowl; E'en now in rofy-crowned pleafure's wreath Entwines in adder folds all-unfuspected Death. Know, on the stealing wing of time fhall flee Some few, fome fhort-liv'd years, and all is paft; A future bard thefe awful domes may fee,

Mufe o'er the prefent age, as I the last; Who mouldering in the grave, yet once like you The various maze of life were feen to tread, Each bent their own peculiar to pursue,

As cuftom urg'd, or wilful nature led: Mix'd with the various crowd's inglorious clay, The nobler virtues undistinguish'd lie; No more to melt with beauty's heaven-born ray, No more to wet compaffion's tearful eye, Catch from the poet raptures not their own, And feel the thrilling melody of sweet renown. Where is the mafter-hand, whose semblant art Chiffell'd the marble into life, or taught From the well-pencil'd portraiture to start

The nerve that beat with foul, the brow that thought?

Cold are the fingers that in ftone-fix'd trance The mute attention rivetting, to the lyre Struck language: dimm'd the poet's quick-eyed glance,

All in wild raptures flashing heaven's own fire. Shrunk is the finew'd energy, that ftrung

The warrior arm. Where fleeps the patriot breaft Whilom that heav'd impaffion'd? where the

tongue

That lanc'd its lightning on the tow'ring creft Of scepter'd infolence, and overthrew Giant Oppreffion, leagued with all her earth-born crew?

These now are paft; long, long, ye fleeting year

Purfue, with glory wing'd, your fated way, Ere from the womb of time unwelcome peers

The dawn of that inevitable day, When wrapt in shrouded clay their warmeft friend The widow'd virtues fhall again deplore, When o'er his urn in pious grief thall bend

His Britain, and bewail one patriot more; For foon must thou, too foon! who spreadft abroad Thy beaming emanations unconfin'd, Doom'd, like fome better angel fent of God

To scatter bleffings over humankind, Thou too must fall, O Pitt! to fhine no more, And tread thefe dreadful paths a Faulkland trod before.

Faft to the driving winds the marshall'd clouds Sweep difcontinuous o'er th' ethereal plain ! Another still upon another crowds;

All haftening downward to their native main. Thus paffes o'er, thro' varied life's career,

Man's fleeting age; the Seafons as they fly Snatch from us in their courfe, year after year, Some fweet connection, fome endearing tie. The parent, ever-honour'd, ever-dear,

Claims from the filial breaft the pious figh;

A brother's urn demands the kindred tear,
And gentle forrows guth from friendship's eye
To-day we frolic in the rofy bloom

Of jocund youth-the morrow knells us to the tomb.

Who knows how foon in this fepulchral spot
Shall heaven to me the drear abode affign?
How foon the paft irrevocable lot

Of thefe, that reft beneath me, fhall be mine? Haply, when Zephyr to thy native bourn

Shall waft thee o'er the ftorm'd Hibernian wave, Thy gentle breaft, my Tavistock, shall mourn To find me fleeping in the fenfelefs grave. No more the focial leifure to divide,

Blithe, or of graver brow; no more to chide

In the fweet intercourfe of foul and foul,

Till all thy cultur'd virtues fhall difplay,
The ling'ring years impatient as they roll,
Full-bloffom'd, their bright honours to the gazing
day.

Ah, dearest youth! thefe vows perhaps unheard

The rude wind fcatters o'er the billowy main; Thefe prayers at friendship's holy fhrine preferr'd May rife to grafp their father's knees in vain, Soon, foon may nod the fad funereal plume With folemn horror o'er thy timeless hearfe, And I furvive to grave upon thy tomb

That leave to Heaven's decifion-be it thinę,
Higher than yet a parent's wishes flew,
To foar in bright pre-eminence, and shine

The mournful tribute of mentorial verse.

With felf-earn'd honours, eager to pursue Where glory, with her clear unfullied rays, The well-born fpirit lights to deeds of mightiest praife.

'Twas the thy godlike Ruffel's bofom steel'd

With confidence untam'd, in his last breath Stern-fmiling. She, with calm compofure, held The patriot axe of Sidney, edg'd with death. Sinit with the warmth of her impulfive flame,

Wolf's gallant virtue flies to worlds afar, Emulous to pluck freth wreaths of well-carn'd fame

'Twas the that, on the morn of dircful birth, From the grim frowning brow of laurel'd war.

Bar'd thy young bofom to the fatal blow, Lamented Armytage!-the bleeding youth! Ye Nereids! and ye Nymphs of Camus hoar, O bathe him in the pearly caves below, Weep-for ye oft have feen him on your haupted fhore.

Better to die with glory, than recline

On the foft lap of ignominious peace, Than yawn out the dull droning life fupine In monkih apathy and gowned cafe. Better employ'd in honour's bright career

The leaft divifion on the dial's round, Than thrice to compass Saturn's live-long year, Grown old in floth, the burthen of the ground; Than tug with sweating toil the flavish oar, Of unredeem'd affliction, and sustain The fev'rous rage of fierce difeafes fore

Unnumber'd, that in fympathetic chain. Hang ever thro' the thick circumfluous air, All from the drizzly verge of yonderftar-girtsphere. M. 3

This

Thick in the many-beaten road of life

A thoufand maladies are pofted round, With wretched man to wage eternal strife

Unteen, like ambush'd Indians, till they wound. There the fwoln hydrop ftands, the wat'ry rheum, The northern fcurvy, blotch with lep'rous fcale; And moping ever in the cloifter'd gloom

Of learned floth, and bookish asthma pale: And the fhunn'd hag unfightly, that (ordain'd On Europe's fons to wreak the faithlefs fword Of Cortez, with the blood of millions ftain'd)

O crdog-eyed luft the tort ring fcourge abhorr'd Shakes threat'ning, fince the while the wing'd her flight

From Amazon's broad wave, and Andes' fnow-clad height.

Where the wan daughter of the yellow year, The chatt'ring ague chill; the writhing ftone; And he of ghaftly feature, on whofe car Unheeded croaks the death-bird's warning moan, Marafmus; knotty gout; and the dead life

Of nervelefs pally; there, on purpofe fell Dark brooding, whets his interdicted knife Grim fuicide, the damned fiend of hell. There too is the ftunn'd apoplexy pight*, The bloated child of gorg'd intemperance foul; Self-wafting melancholy, black as night

Low'ring; and foaming fierce with hideous howl The dog hydrophoby; and near allied Scar'd madnef, with her moon-ftruck eyeballs ftating wide.

There,ftretch'd one huge,beneath the rocky minet, With boiling fulphur fraught, and fmouldering He, the dread delegate of wrath divine, [fires:

Ere while that food o'er Taio's hundred Ipires Vindictive; thrice he wav'dth'earth-fhaking wand, Powerful as that the fon of Amrai bore, And thrice he rais'd, and thrice he check'd his hand. He ftruck-the rocking ground, with thunderous roar,

there

Placed.

His weftering flight, and thro' the fick air flings
Spotted contagion; at his heels difmay
And defolation urge their fire-wheel'd yoke
Terrible; as long of old, when from the height
Of Paran came unwreath'd the mightiest, fhook
Earth's firm fixt bafe tottering; thro' the black
night
[abroad
Glanc'd the flash'd lightnings: heaven's rent roof
Thunder'd; and univerfal nature felt its God.
Who on that scene of terror, on that hour

Of roufed indignation, fhall withstand
Th' Almighty, when he meditates to fhow'r

The buifting vengeance o'er a guilty land! Canft thou, fecure in reafon's vaunted pride, [gore Tongue-doughty mifcreant, who but now didft With more than Hebrew rage the innocent fide Of agonizing mercy, bleeding fore

Canft thou confront, with ftedfaft eye unaw'd,

The fworded judgment stalking far and near? Well mayft thou tremble, when an injur'd God

Difclaims thee-guilt is ever quick of fearLoud whirlwinds howl in zephyr's fofteft breath, And every glancing meteor glares imagin'd death. The good alone are fearlefs; they alone,

Firm and collected in their virtue, brave The wreck of worlds, and look un fhrinking down

On the dread yawnings of the rav'nous grave: Thrice happy who, the blameless road along

Of honeft praife, hath reach'd the vale of death! Around him, like miniftrant cherubs, throng

His better actions, to the parting breath Singing their bleffed requiems; he the while Gently repofing on fome friendly breast, Breathes out his benizons; then with a fmile Of foft complacence lays him down to reft, Calm as the flumbering infant: from the goal Free and unbounded flies the difembodied foul. Whether fome delegated charge below,

Some much-lov'd friend its hovering care may claim; Whether it heavenward foars, again to know That long-forgotten country whence it came; Conjecture ever, the misfeatur'd child

Of letter'd arrogance, delights to run Thro' fpeculation's puzzling mazes wild,

And all to end at laft where it begun. Fain would we trace, with reafon's erring clue, The dark fome paths of deftiny aright; In vain; the talk were eafter, to purfue

The tracklefs wheelings of the fwallow's flight. From mortal ken himself the Almighty fhrouds, Pavilion'd in thick night and circumambient

clouds.

1. The Traveller; or, a Profpe&t of Society: Infcribed to the Rev. Mr. H. Goldsmith.

By Dr. GOLDSMITH.

REMOTE, unfriended, melancholy, flow,

Or by the lazy Scheld, or wand'ring Po; Or onward, where the rude Carinthian boor Against the houfelefs ftranger fhuts the door : Or where Campania's plain forfaken lies, A weary wafte expanding to the fkies: Where'er I roam, whatever realms to fee, My heart, untravell'd, fondly turns to thee: Still to my brother turns, with ceafelefs pain, And drags, at each remove, a length'ning chain. Eternal bleffings crown my earliest friend, And round his dwelling guardian faints attend; Blefs'd be that fpot where cheerful guests retire, To paufe from toil, and trim their evening fire; Blefs'd that abode where want and pain repair, And ev'ry ftranger finds a ready chair: Blefs'd be thofe feafts, with fimple plenty crown'd, Where all the ruddy family around Laugh at the jefts or pranks that never fail, Or figh with pity at fome mournful tale; Or prefs the bafhful ftranger to his food, And learn the luxury of doing good!

But me, not deftin'd fuch delights to share, My prime of life in wand'ring spent, and care: Impell'd, with fters unceafing, to purfue Some fleeting good that mocks me with the view; That, like the circle bounding earth and skies, Allures from far, yet as I follow flies; My fortune leads to traverse realms alone, And find no fpot of all the world my own. E'en now, where Alpine folitudes afcend, I fit me down a penfive hour to spend ; And plac'd on high, above the storm's career, Look downward where an hundred realms appear;

Lakes, forefts, cities, plains, extending wide,
The pomp of kings, the fhepherds humbler pride.
When thus Creation's charms around combine,
Amidft the ftore, fhould thanklefs pride repine?
Say, fhould the philofophic mind disdain
That good which makes each humbler bofom vain
Let fchool-taught pride diffemble all it can,
Thefe little things are great to little man ;
And wifer he, whofe fympathetic mind
Exults in all the good of all mankind. [crown'd;
Ye glitt'ring towns, with wealth and fplendour
Ye fields, where fummer fpreads profufion round;
Ye lakes, whofe veffels catch the bufy gale;
Ye bending fwains, that drefs the flow'ry vale;
For me your tributary ftores combine :
Creation's heir! the world, the world is mine!

As fome lone mifer, vifiting his ftore,
Bends at his treafure, counts, recounts it o'cr;
Hoards after hoards his rifing raptures fill,
Yet ftill he fighs, for hoards are wanting ftill:
Thus to my breaft alternate paffions rife, [plies;
Pleas'd with cach good that Heaven to man fup-
Yet oft a figh prevails, and forrows fall,
To fee the hoard of human blifs fo fmall;
And oft I with, amidft the scene, to find
Some fpot to real happinefs confign'd,
Where my worn foul, each wand'ring hope at reft,
May gather blifs to fee my fellows bleft.

But where to find that happieft fpot below, Who can direct, when all pretend to know? The thudd'ring tenant of the frigid zone Boldly proclaims that happieft fpot his own; Extols the treafures of his ftormy feas, And his long nights of revelry and cafe: The naked negro, panting at the line, Boafts of his golden fands and palmy wine; Basks in the glare, or ftems the tepid wave, And thanks his gods for all the good they gave. Such

M 4

Such is the patriot's boaft, where'er we roam;
His first, beft country, ever is at home.
And yet, perhaps, if countries we compare,
And cftimate the bleffings which they share,
Though patriots flatter, ftill fhall wifdom find
An equal portion dealt to all mankind;
As different good, by art or nature given,
To different nations, makes their blettings even.
Nature, a mother kind alike to all,
Still grants her bliss at labour's earnest call;
With food as well the peafant is fupplied
On Idra's cliffs as Arno's fhelvy fide;
And tho' the rocky-crefted fummits frown,
Thefe rocks by custom turn to beds of down.
From art more various are the bleflings fent;
Wealth, commerce, honour, liberty, content.
Yet these each other's pow'r fo ftrong conteft,
That either feems deftructive of the reft. [fails;
Where wealth and freedom reign, contentment
And honour finks where commerce long prevails.
Hence ev'ry ftate, to one lov'd bleffing prone,
Conforms and models life to that alone.
Each to the fav'rite happiness attends,
And fpurns the plan that aims at other ends;
Till carried to excefs in each domain,
This fav'rite good begets peculiar pain.

But let us try thefe truths with clofer eyes, And trace them through the profpect as it lies: Here for a while, my proper cares refign'd, Here let me fit in forrow for mankind;

Like
yon neglected shrub at random caft,
That fhades the steep, and fighs at ev'ry blaft.
Far to the right, where Apennine afcends,
Bright as the fummer, Italy extends;
Its uplands floping deck the mountain's fide,
Woods over woods in gay theatric pride;
While oft fome temple's mould'ring tops between
With venerable grandeur mark the fcene.

Could Nature's bounty fatisfy the breast,
The fons of Italy were furely blefs'd.
Whatever fruits in different climes are found,
That proudly rife, or humbly court the ground;
Whatever blooms in torrid tracts appear,
Whofe bright fucceffion decks the varied year;
Whatever sweets falute the northern sky
With vernal lives, that bloffom but to die:
Thefe, here difporting, own the kindred foil,
Nor afk luxuriance from the planter's toil;
While fea-born gales their gelid wings expand,
To winnow fragrance round the finiling land.
But fmall the blifs that fenfe alone bettows,
And fenfual blifs is all the nation knows,
In florid beauty groves and fields appear,
Man feems the only growth that dwindles here.
Contrafted faults through all his manners reign:
Though poor, luxurious; though fubmiflive,vain;
Though grave, yet trifling; zealous, yet untrue;
And e'en in penance planning fins anew,
All evils here contaminate the mind,
That apulence departed leaves behind;
For wealth was theirs, not far remov'd the date,
When commerce proudly flourish'd through the
At her command the palace learn'd to rife, [ftate:
Again the long-fall'n' column fought the skies:

The canvas glow'd beyond c'en Nature warm; The pregnant quarry teem'd with human form; Till, more unfteady than the fouthern gale, Commerce on other fhores difplay'd her fail; While nought remain'd of all that riches gave, But towns unmann'd, and lords without a flave: And late the nation found, with fruitless skill, Its former ftrength was but plethoric ill.

Yet ftill the lofs of wealth is here fupplied By arts, the fplendid wrecks of former pride; From these the feeble heart and long-fall'n mind An cafy compenfation feem to find. Here may be feen, in bloodless pomp array'd, The pafteboard triumph and the cavalcade; Proceffions form'd for piety and love, A miftrefs or a faint in ev'ry grove. By sports like these are all their cares beguil'd, The fports of children fatisfy the child: Each nobler aim, reprefs'd by long controul, Now finks at laft, or feebly mans the foul; While low delights, fucceeding faft behind, In happier meannefs occupy the mind: As in those domes where Cæfars once bore fway, Defac'd by time, and tott'ring in decay, There in the ruin, heedlefs of the dead, The shelter-feeking peafant builds his fhed; And, wondering man could want the larger pile, Exults, and owns his cottage with a smile.

My foul, turn from them-turn we to survey Where rougher climes a nobler race difplay; Where the bleak Swifs their ftormy manfion tread, And force a churlish foil for scanty bread: No product here the barren hills afford But man and steel, the foldier and his sword. No vernal blooms their torpid rocks array, But winter ling'ring chills the lap of May; No zephyr fondly fues the mountain's breaft, But meteors glare, and stormy glooms invest.

Yet ftill e'en here Content can spread a charm, Redrefs the clime, and all its rage difarm. Tho' poor the peafant's hut, his feast tho' small, He fees his little lot the lot of all; Sees no contiguous palace rear its head, To fhame the meannefs of his humble thed; No coftly lord the fumptuous banquet deal, To make him loath his vegetable meal; But calm, and bred in ignorance and toil, Each wish contracting, fits him to the foil. Cheerful at morn he wakes from short repofe, Breathes the keen air, and carols as he goes; With patient angle trolls the finny deep, Or drives his vent'rous plough-fhare to the steep; Or feeks the den where fnow-tracks mark the way, And drags the struggling favage into day. At night returning, ev'ry labour fped, He fits him down the monarch of a fhed; Smiles by his cheerful fire, and round furveys His children's looks, that brighten at the blaze; While his lov'd partner, boastful of her hoard, Difplays her cleanly platter on the board: And haply too fomne pilgrim, thither led, With many a tale repays the nightly bed.

Thus ev'ry good his native wilds impart Imprints the patriot paffion on his heart;

And