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Ye Heavens! what virtues with what courage join'd!
But join'd in vain !—See, vanquish'd, and confin'd
In the deep gloom, the pious Hero lies,
And lifts to Heaven his ever-ftreaming eyes.
There, spent with forrows, as he sunk to rest
(The public caufe ftill labouring in his breaft),
Behold, in flumber, to his view display'd,
Rofe the firft Frederic's venerable shade!
His temples circled with a heavenly flame;
The fame his flowing robe, his look the fame.

"And art thou come? (the captive Warrior cries)
What realms fo long detained thee from our eyes?
After fuch wars, fuch deaths and honours paft,
Is our great Guardian Chief return'd at last ?
Say, from your heaven, fo long defir'd in vain,
Defcends our Hero to our aid again?
Now when proud Rome, her standard wide unfurl'd,
Pours like a deluge o'er the trembling world;
Fierce, her difputed empire to restore,

And scourge mankind for ten dark ages more?
Like me, Religion wears the Tyrant's chain;
Proftrate like me, she bleeds at every vein :
Oh! must we never, never rife again?"

"Difmifs thy fears, (the reverend Shade replies) Be firm, be constant, and abfolve the skies.

Dark are the ways of Heaven: let man attend:

Soon will the regular confufion end.

Soon fhall thy eyes a brighter fcene furvey
(Lo, the fleet hours already wing their way!)


When, to thy native soil in peace reftor'd,
Once more fhall Gotha fee her lawful Lord.
True to Religion, each fucceffive son
Shall aid the cause their generous fires begun.
Even now I look through fate. O glorious fight!
I fee thy offspring as they rife to light.
What benefits to man! what lights divine!
What Heroes, and what Saints adorn the line!
And oh! to crown the fcene, my joyful eyes
Behold from far a princely Virgin rise!
This, this is the, the fmiling Fates ordain
To bring the bright primeval times again!
The fair Augufta!-Grac'd with blooming charms;
Referv'd to blefs a British Prince's arms.
Behold, behold the long-expected day!
Fly swift, ye hours, ye minutes, haste away;
To wed the Fair, O favour'd of the fkies,
Rife in thy time, thou deftin'd Hero, rife!
For through this scene of opening fate, I fee
A greater Frederic fhall arife in thee!

Then let thy fears from this bleft moment cease,
Henceforth fhall pure Religion reign in peace.
Thy royal race shall Albion's fceptre fway,
And fon to fon th' imperial power convey :
All shall support, like thee, the noble cause
Of Truth, Religion, Liberty, and Laws.”

This faid, the venerable Shade retir'd:
The wondering Hero, at the vifion fir'd,
With generous rapture glows; forgets his pains,
Smiles at his woes, and triumphs in his chains.



WHILE trembling we approach Jove's awful shrine, With pure libations, and with rites divine; What theme more proper can we chufe to fing, Than Jove himfeif, the great, Eternal King! Whofe word gives law to thofe of heavenly birth; Whofe hand fubdues the rebel fons of earth. Since doubts and dark difputes thy titles move, Hear'ft thou, Dictaan or Lycæan Jove? For here thy birth the tops of Ida claim, And there Arcadia triumphs in thy name. But Crete in vain would boaft a grace fo high, Whofe faithlefs fons through meer complexion lie: Immortal as thou art in endless bloom, Το

prove their claim, they build the thunderer's tomb. Be then Arcadian, for the towering height Of steep Parrhafia welcom'd thee to light; When pregnant Rhea, wandering through the wood, Sought out her darkeft fhades, and bore the God; The place thus hallow'd by the birth of Jove, More than religious horror guards the grove: The gloom all teeming females ftill decline, From the vile worm, to woman, form divine. Soon as the mother had difcharg'd her load, She fought a fpring to bathe the recent God; But fought in vain: no living ftream fhe found, Though fince, the waters drench the realms around.


Clear Erymanthus had not learn'd to glide,
Nor mightier Ladon drove his swelling tide,
At thy great birth, where now Iäon flows,
Tall towering oaks, and pathleís forefts rofe.
The thirsty savages were heard to roar,
Where Cario foftly murmurs to the shore ;
Where spreading Melas widely floats the coaft,
The flying chariot rais'd a cloud of duft.
With drowth o'er Cratis and Menope curst,
The fainting fwain, to aggravate his thirst,
Heard from within the bubbling waters flow,
In close restraint, and murmur from below.

Thou too, O earth, (enjoin'd the power divine)
Bring forth; thy pangs are lefs feverc than mine,
And fooner paft; she spoke, and as she spoke
Rear'd high her fcepter'd arm, and pierc'd the rock.
Wide to the blow the parting mountain rent,
The waters gufh'd tumultuous at the vent,
Impatient to be freed; amid the flood

She plung'd the recent babe, and bath'd the God.
She wrapp'd thee, mighty king, in purple bands,
Then gave the facred charge to Neda's hands,
The babe to nourish in the close retreat,
And in the fafe recefs, of diftant Crete.
In years and wifdom, of the nymphs who nurft
The infant thunderer, Neda was the firft;
Next Styx and Phylirè; the virgin fhar'd
For her great trust discharg'd a great reward:
For by her honour'd name the flood fhe calls,
Which rolls into the fea by Leprion's walls;

To drink her ftreams the fons of Arcas crowd,
And draw for ever from the ancient flood.

Thee, Jove, the careful nymph to Cnoffus bore,
(To Cnoffus feated on the Cretan fhore)
With joyful arms the Corybantes heav'd,
And the proud nymphs the glorious charge receiv'd.
Above the reft in grace Adrafte ftood,

She rock'd the golden cradle of the God;
On his ambrofial lips the goat diftill'd

Her milky fore, and fed th' immortal child :
With her the duteous bee prefents her spoils,
And for the God repeats her flowery toils.

The fierce Curetes too in arms advance,
And tread tumultuously their myftic dance :
And, left thy cries fhould reach old Saturn's ear,
Beat on their brazen fhields the din of war.

Full foon, Almighty King, thy early prime Advanc'd beyond the bounds of vulgar time. Ere the foft down had cloath'd thy youthful face, Swift was thy growth in wit and every grace. Fraught was thy mind in life's beginning stage, With all the wisdom of experienc'd age: Thy elder brothers hence their claims refign, And leave th' unbounded heavens by merit thine; For fure those Poets fable, who advance The bold affertion, that capricious chance By equal lots to Saturn's fons had given The triple reign of ocean, hell and heaven. Above blind chance the vaft divifion lies, And hell holds no proportion to the skies.

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