Difclofing all the pow'rs of head and heart:
Ne were the goodly exercifes fpard, -
That brace the nerves, or make the limbs alert,
And mix elaftic force with ammnets hard:
Was never knight on ground mote be with him
compar'd.

Sometimes, with early morn, he mounted gay
The hunter-iteed, exulting o'er the dale,
And drew the rofeate breath of orient day;
Sometimes, retiring to the fecret vale,
Yclad in fteel, and bright with burnifh'd mail,
Heftrain'd the bow, ortofs'd the founding fpear;
Or darting on the goal outftripp'd the gale,
Or wheel'd the chariot in its mid-career;
Or, ftrenuous, wreftled hard with many a tough
compeer.

At other times he pry'd thro' nature's store,
Whate'er fhe in th'ethereal round contains,
Whate'er the hides beneath her verdant floor,
The vegetable and the min'ral reigns;

Or elfe he feann'd the globe, those small do-
mains,

Where reftiefs mortals fuch a turmoil keep,
Its feas, its floods, its mountains, and its plains;
But more he fearch'd the mind, and rous'd

from fleep

Thofe moral feeds whence we heroic actions reap.
Nor would he fcorn to ftoop from high pursuits
Of heav'nly truth, and practife what the taught.
Vain is the tree of knowledge without fruits.
Sometimes in hand the fpade or plough he
caught,
[fraught;
Forth-calling all with which boon earth is
Sometimes he ply'd the ftrong mechanic tool,
Or reard the fabric from the fineft draught;
And oft he put himself to Neptune's fchool,
Fighting with winds and waves on the vex'd
ocean pool,

To folace then thefe rougher toils, he try'd
To touch the kindling canvas into life
With nature his creating pencil vy'd,
With nature joyous at the mimic strife;
Or to fuch fhapes as grac'd Pygmalion's wife,
He hew'd the marble; or with vary'd fire,
He rous'd the trumpet and the martial fife,
Or bade the lute fweet tenderness inspire,
Or verfes fram'd that well might wake Apollo's
lyre.

Accomplish'd thus he from the woods issu'd,
Full of great aims, and bent on bold emprize;
The work, which long he in his breaft had
brew'd,

Now to perform he ardent did devife;
To wit, a barb'rous world to civilize.
Earth was till then a boundlefs foreft wild;
Nought to be feen but favage wood and skies;
No cities nourish'd arts, no culture fmil'd,
No government, no laws, no gentle manners mild.
A rugged wight, the worst of brutes, was man :
On his own wretched kind he ruthlefs prey'd :
The strongest ftill the weakest over-ran;
In ev'ry country mighty robbers fway'd,

And guile and ruffian force were all their trade.
Life was a fcene of rapine, want, and woe;.
Which this brave knight, in noble anger,
made
To fwear, he would the rafcal rout o'erthrow;
For,by the pow'rs divine, it fhould no more be fo!
It would exceed the purport of my fong,
To fay how this beft fun, from orient climes
Came beaming life and beauty all along,
Before him chacing indolence and crimes.
Still as he pafs'd, the nations he fublimes,
And calls forth arts and virtues with his ray:
Then Egypt, Greece, and Rome, their golden
Succeffive, had; but now in ruins gray [times,
They ly, to lavish floth and tyranny a prey.

To crown his toils, Sir Industry then spread
The fwelling fail, and made for Britain's coaft.
A fylvan life till then the natives led,

In the brown fhades and greenwood forest loft,
All careless rambling where it lik'd them most :
Their wealth the wild deer bouncing thro' the
glade :

They lodg'd at large, and liv'd at nature's coft;
Save fpear and bow, withouten other aid;
Yet not the Roman fteel theirnakedbreast disinay 'd
He lik'd the foil, he lik'd the clement skies,
He lik'd the verdant hills and flow'ry plains.
Be this my great, my chofen ifle (he cries);
This, whilft my labours Liberty sustains,
This queen of ocean all affault difdains.
Nor lik'd he lefs the genius of the land,
To freedom apt and perfevering pains :
Temper'd by forming Heav'n with kindest firmett
Mild to obey,and gen'rous to command, hand.
Here, by degrees, his master-work arose,
Whatever arts and industry can frame :
Whatever finish'd agriculture knows,
Fair queen of arts! from heav'n itfelf who came,
When Eden flourifli'd in unspotted fame :
And ftill with her fweet innocence we find,
And tender peace, and joys without a name,

That, while they ravifh, tranquilize the mind,
Nature and Art, at once delight and use combin'd.

Then towns he quicken'd by mechanic arts,
And bade the fervent city glow with toil;
Bade focial commerce raise renowned marts,
Join land to land, and marry foil to foil,
Unite the poles, and without bloody spoil
Bring home of either Ind the gorgeous stores;
Or, fhould defpotic rage the world embroil,
Bade tyrants tremble on remoteft fhores, [10ars.
While o'er th'encircling deep Britannia's thunder

The drooping muses then he weftward call'd,
From the fam'd city by Prepontic fea,
What time the Turk the enfeebled Grecian
thrall'd;
[free,
Thence from their cloifter'd walks he fet them
And brought them to another Caftalie,
Where Ifis many a famous nourfling breeds;
Or where old Cain foft paces o'er the lee
In penfive mood, and tunes his Doric reeds,
The whilft his flocks at large the lonely shepherd
feeds.

Yet the fine arts were what he finish'd leaft.
For why? They are the quinteffence of all.
The growth of lab'ring time, and flow encreaft;
Unless, as seldom chances, it should fall
That mighty patrons the coy fifters call
Up to the funfhine of uncumber'd eafe, [thrall,
Where no rude care the mounting thought may
And where they nothing have to do but please:
Ah! gracious God! thou know'ft they afk no
other fees.

But now, alas! we live too late in time:
Our patrons now ev'n grudge that little claim,
Except to fuch as fleek the foothing rhyme;
And yet, forfooth, they wear Mæcenas' name:
Poor fons of puft-up vanity, not fame.
Unbroken fpirits cheer; ftill, ftill remains
The eternal patron, Liberty: whofe flame,
While the protects, infpires the noblest strains.
The best and sweeteft far, are toil-created gains.
When as the knight had fram'd in Britain-land
A matchlefs form of glorious government,
In which the fov'reign laws alone command,
Laws 'ftablish'd by the public free confent,
Whofe majefty is to the fceptre lent;
When this great plan, with each dependent art,
Was fettled firm, and to his heart's content,
Then fought he from the toilfome scene to part,
And let life's vacant eve breathe quiet thro' the
heart.

For this he chofe a farm in Deva's vale,

Where his long alleys peep'd upon the main.
In this calm feat he drew the healthful gale,
Here mix'd the chief, the patriot, and the fwain.
The happy monarch of his fylvan train,
Here, fided by the guardians of the fold,
He walk'd his rounds, and cheer'd his bleft
domain :

His days, the days of unftain'd nature, roll'd,
Replete with peace and joy, like patriots of old.
Witnefs, ye lowing herds, who gave him milk;
Witnefs, ve flocks, whofe woolly veftments far
Exceed foft India's cotton, or her filk;
Witness, with autumn charg'd, the nodding

car,

That homeward came beneath sweet ev'ning's
ftar,

Or of September moons the radiance mild.
O hide thy head, abominable war!
Of crimes and ruffian idlenefs the child!
From heav'n this life y1prung, from hell thy glo-
ries vild!

Nor from his deep retirement banish'd was
Th'amufing care of rural industry.
Still, as with grateful change the feafons pafs,
New scenes arife, new landscapes ftrike the eye,
And all the enliven'd country beautify:
Gay plains extend where marshes flept before;
O'er recent meads th'exulting ftreamlets fly;
Dark frowning heaths grow bright with Ceres'
ftore,
[fhore.
And woods imbrown the fleep, or wave along the

As nearer to his farm you made approach,
He polish'd nature with a finer hand :
Yet on her beauties durft not art encroach;
'Tis art's alone these beauties to expand.
In graceful dance immingled, o'er the land,
Pan, Pales, Flora, and Pomona play'd:
Here too brifk gales the rude wild common
fann'd,

An happy place: where free, and unafraid, Amid the flow'ring brakes each coyer creature ftray'd.

But in prime vigor what can laft for ay?
That foul-enfeebling wizard Indolence,
I whilom fung, wrought in his works decay :
Spread far and wide for his curs'd influence;
Of public virtue much he dull'd the fenfe,
Ev'n much of private; eat our fpirit out,
And fed our rank luxurious vices; whence
The land was overlaid with many a lout;
Not, as old fame reports, wife, gen’rous, bold,
and ftout.

A rage of pleasure madden'd ev'ry breast,
Down to the loweft lees the ferment ran :
To his licentious wifh each must be blefs'd,
With joy be fever'd; fnatch it as he can.
Thus Vice the standard rear'd; her arrier-ban
Corruption call'd, and loud she gave the word,
• Mind, mind yourselves; why should the vul,

gar man,

The lackey be more virtuous than his lord? Enjoy this fpan of life! 'tis all the gods afford.'

The tidings reach'd to where, in quiet-hall, The good old knight enjoy'd well-earn'd repofe. 'Come, come, Sir Knight! thy children on thee call:

'Come, fave us yet, ere ruin round us close;
The demon Indolence thy toil o'erthrows.'
On this the noble colour ftain'd his cheeks,
Indignant, glowing thro' the whit'ning fnows
Of venerable eld; his eye full fpeaks
His ardent foul, and from his couch at once he
breaks.

I will (he cry'd) so help me, God! destroy
That villain Archimage.-His page then strait
He to him call'd, a fiery-footed boy,

66

Benempt Difpatch. "My fteed be at the gate;
My bard attend; quick,bring the net of Fate."
This net was twisted by the fifters three;
Which when once caft o'er harden'd wretch,
too late

Repentance comes: replevy cannot be
From the ftrong iron grafp of vengeful Destiny.

He came, the bard, a little druid wight,
Of wither'd afpe&t; but his eve was keen,
With fweetness mix'd. In ruffet brown bedight,
As is his fifter in the copfes green*,
He crept along, unpromifing of mien.
Grofs he who judges fo. His foul was fair,
Bright as the children of yon azure sheen.
True comelinefs, which nothing can impair,
Dwells in the mind: all elfe is vanity and glare.
The Nightingale.

Come

Come (quoth the knight) a voice has reach'd

mine car:

The demon Indolence threats overthrow
To all that to mankind is good and dear:
Come, Philomelus; let us inftant go,
O'erturn his bow'rs, and lay his caftle low.
Thofe men, those wretched men, who will be
flaves,

Muft drink a bitter wrathful cup of woc :
But fome there be,thy song, as from their graves,
Shall raife. Thrice happy he! who without ri-
gor faves.

Iffuing forth, the knight beftrode his teed,
Of ardent bay, and on whofe front a star
Shone blazing bright: fprung from the
rous breed

gene

That whirl of active day the rapid car,
He pranc'd along, difdaining gate or bar.
Meantime,the bard on milk-white palfrey rode;
An honcit fober beast, that did not mar
His meditations, but full foftly trode !
And much they moraliz'd as thus yfere they yode.
They talk'd of virtue and of human bliss;
What elfe fo fit for man to fettle well?
And still their long refearches met in this,
This truth of truths, which nothing can refel;
• From virtue's fount the pureft joys out-well,
Sweet rills of thought that cheer the con-
• fcious foul;

• While vice pours forth the troubled ftreams
⚫ of hell,

The which, howe'er difguis'd, at last with dole • Will through the tortur'd breaft their fiery tor' rent roll.'

At length it dawn'd, that fatal valley gay,
O'er which high wood-crown'd hills their fum-
mits rear.

On the cool height a while our palmers ftay,
And fpite cv'n of themfelves their fenfes cheer;
Then to the vizard's wonne their steps they fleer.
Like a green ifle, it broad beneath them fpread.
With gardens round, and wand'ring currents

clear,

And tufted groves to shed the meadow-bed, Sweet airs and long and without hurry all feem'd glad.

• As God fhall judge me, knight, we must for-
(The half-enraptui'd Philomelus cry'd)[give,
The frail good man deluded here to live,
And in thefe groves his muling fancy hide.
Ah! nought is pure. It cannot be deny'd,
• That virtue ftill fome tincture has of vice,
And vice of virtue. What fhould then betide,
But that our charity be not too nice?
Come, let us thofe we can to real blifs entice.

Ay, ficker (quoth the knight) all flesh is frail,
To pleasant fin and joyous dalliance bent;

But let not brutith vice of this avail,
And think to 'cape deferved punishment.

Juftice were cruel weakly to relent;
From mercy's self she got her facred glaive :
Grace be to thofe who can, and will repent;
But penance long, and dreary, to the flave,
Who muft in floods of fire his grofs foul fpirit
'lave.'

Thus,holding high difcourfe,they came towhere
The curfed carle was at his wonted trade;
Still tempting heedlefs men into his foare,
In witching wife, as I before have faid.
But when he faw, in goodly gecr array'd,
The grave majeftic knight approaching nigh,
And by his fide the bard fo fage and staid,
His count'nance fell; yet oft his anxious eye
Mark'd them, like wily fox who roofted cock
doth spy.

Nathlefs, with feign'd refpect, he bade give back
The rabble-rout, and welcom❜d them full kind;
Struck with the noble twain,they were not flack
His orders to obey, and fall behind.
Then he refirm'd his fong; and unconfin'd,
Pour'd all his mufic, rau thro' all his ftrings:
With magic duft their eyne he tries to blind,
And virtue's tender airs o'er nature flings.
What pity bafe his fong who fo divinely fings !
Elate in thought, he counted them his own,
They liften'd to intent with fix'd delight :
But they inftead, as if tranfmew'd to stone, -
Marvel'd he could with fuch sweet art unite
The lights and thades of manners, wrong and
right.

Meantime the filly crowd the charm devour,
Wide preffing to the gate. Swift on the knight
Here darted fierce, to drag him to his bow'r,
Who, back'ning, fhun'd his touch; for well he
knew its pow'r.

As in throng amphitheatre of old,
The wary Retiarius trapp'd his foe;
Ev'n fo the knight, returning on him bold,
At once involv'd him in the net of woe,
Whereof I mention made not long ago.
Enrag'd at first, he fcorn'd fo weak a jail,
And leap'd, and flew, and flounced to and fro;
But when he found that nothing could avail,
He fat him felly down, and gnaw'd his bitter mail

Alarm'd, the inferior demons of the place
Rais'd rueful fhrieks and hideous yells around;
Black ftormy clouds deform'd the welkin's face,
And from beneath was heard a wailing found,
As of infernal fprights in cavern bound;
A folemn fadnefs ev'ry creature ftrook,
And lightnings flash'd, and horror rock'd the
ground;
[mith'd look,
Huge crowds on crowds out-pour'd with ble-
As if on Time's laft verge this fame of things had
fhook.

Soon as the fhort-liv'd tempeft was yfpent,
Steam'd from the jaws of vext Avernus' hole,
And hush'd the hubbub of the rabblement,
Sir Industry the first calm moment stole.

A Gladiator, who made ufe of a net, which he threw over his adverfary.

•There