"Powerful the rooted stubborn oak to move, "To ftop the thunder bursting from above, "To make the rapid flood's defcending stream "Flow backward to the fountain whence it came. "Nor doubt my truth-behold, with juft furprize, 191

"An effort of my art-a palace rife"

She faid; and, lo! a palace towering feems, With Parian pillars and metallic beams. RUFINUS, ravifh'd with the vaft delight,

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Gorges his avarice, and gluts his fight.
Such was his tranfport, fuch his fudden pride,
When Midas first his golden wiß enjoy'd:
But, as his stiffening food to metal turn'd,
He found his rafhnefs, and his ruin mourn'd.
"Be thou or Man or God," Rufinus faid,
"I follow wherefoe'er thy dictates lead."
Then from his but he flies, affumes the state
Propounded by the Fiend, prepar'd by Fate.
Ambition foon began to lift her head,
Soaring, the mounts with rettlefs pinion fpread;
But Juftice, confcions, fhuns the poifon'd air,
Where only proflituted tools repair;
Where STILICo and Virtue not avail;
Where royal favours ftand expos'd to fale;
Where now RUFINUS, fcandaloufly great,
Loads labouring nations with oppreffive weight;
Keeps the obfequious world depending ftill
On the proud dictates of his lawless will;
Advances thofe, whofe fierce and factious zeal 215
Prompts ever to refift, and to rebel ;

210

But thofe impeaches, who their Prince commend,
Who, dauntless, dare his facred rights defend;
Expounds fmall riots into highest crimes,
Brands loyalty as treefon to the times.
An haughty Minion, mad with empire grown,
Enflaves the fubjects, and infults the Throne.

A thoufand difemboguing rivers pay
Their everlasting homage to the fea;
The Nile, the Rhine, the Danube,
Thames,

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and the

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Pour conftant down their tributary streams: but yet the fea confeffes no increase,

For all is fwallow'd in the deep abyfs.

In craving, ftill RUFINUS' foul remains,

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The fam'd, the warlike, CURI deign'd to dwell
In a poor lonely cot and humble cell.
Such a retreat to me 's more glorious far,
Than all thy pomp, than all thy triumphs are:
Give me my folitary native home,
Take thou thy rifing tower, thy lofty dome:
Though there thy furniture of radiant dye
Abstracts and ravishes the curious eye;
Though each apartment, every spacious room,
Shines with the glories of the Tyrian loom;
Yet here I view a more delightful scene,
Where Nature's frefheft bloom and beauties reigns
Where the warni Zephyr's genial balmy wing,
Playing, diffufes an eternal fpring:

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Though there thy lewd lafcivious limbs are laid
On a rich downy couch, or golden bed;
Yet here, extended on the flowery grafs,
More free from care, my guiltless hours 1 pafs:
Though there thy fycophants, a fervile race,
Cringe at thy levees, and refound thy praife;
Yet here a murmuring ftream, or warbling bird,
To me does fweeter harmony afford

NATURE on all the power of blifs beftows,
Which from her bounteous fource perpetual flows.
But he alone with happiness is bleft,
Who knows to use it rightly when poffeft :
A doctrine, if well poiz'd in Reafon's feale, 275
Nor Luxury nor Want would thus prevail;
Nor would our fleets fo frequent plow the main,
Nor our embattled armies ftrew the plain.

But, oh! RUFINUS is to reafon blind! A frange hydropie thirst inflames his mind. 28% No bribes his growing appetite can fate; For new poffeffions new defires create. No fenfe of fhame, no modesty, restrains, Where Avarice or where Ambition reigns. When with ftrict oaths his proffer'd faith he binds, Falfe are his vows, and treacherous his d.figne.

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gains;

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For he defpoils and ravages the land,
No ftate is free from his rapacious hand;
Treafures immenfe he hoards; erects a tower,
To lodge the plunder'd world's collected store :
Unmeafur'd is his wealth, unbounded is his

power.

THE EAGLE AND THE ROBIN.

A LADY liv'd in former days,

That well deferv'd the utmost praise;
For greatnefs, birth, and juftice fam'd,
And every virtue could be nam'd;

Which made her course of life fo even,
That the 's a Saint (if dead) in Heaven.
This Lady had a little feat
Just like a palace, 'twas so neat,
From aught (but goodness) her retreat.
One morning, in her giving way,
As was her cuftom every day,

To cheer the poor, the fick, and cold,
Or with apparel, food, or gold,
There came a gazing stranger by,
On whom she quickly caft an eye.

The man admiring, made a ftand; He had a bird upon his hand : "What's that, fays fhe, that hangs its head, Sinking and faint? 'Tis almost dead." "Madam, a Red-breast that I found, By this wet feafon almost drown'd." "Oh! bring him in, and keep him warm; Robins do never any harm."

They foon obey'd, and chopt him meat,
Gave him whatever he would eat;
The Lady care herself did take,
And made a neft for Robin's fake:
But he parkt up into her chair,
In which he plenteously did fare,
Affuming quite another air.

The neighbours thought, when this they spy'd,
The world well mended on his fide.

With well-tun'd throat he whiftled long,

And every body lik'd his fong.

"At laf, faid they, this little thing
Will kill i felf, fo long to fing;
We'll clofet him among the reft
Of thofe my Lady loves the best."
They little thought, that faw him come,
That Robins were fo quarrelsome:
The door they open'd, in he pops,
And to the highest perch he hops;
The party-colour'd birds he chofe,
The Gold-finches, and fuch as thofe ;
With them he 'd peck, and bill, and feed,
And very well (at times) agreed:
Canary-birds were his delight,
With them he 'd téte-à-téte all night;
But the brown Linnets went to pot,
He kill'd them all upon the spot.

The fervants were employ'd each day,
Inftead of work, to part fome fray,
And wish'd the aukward fellow curt
That brought him to my Lady first.
At laft they all refolv'd upon 't,
Some way to tell my Lady on 't.

Meanwhile he'd had a noble swing,
And rul'd just like the Gallic king;
Having kill'd or wounded all,
Unless the Eagle in the hall;
With whom he durft but only jar,
He being the very foul of war,

But hated him for his defert,
And bore him malice at his heart.

This Eagle was my Lady's pride,
The guardian safety of her fide:
He often brought home foreign prey,
Which humbly at her feet he lay.
For colour, pinions, and ftature,
The fairest workmanship of nature;
'Twould do one good to fee him move,
So full of grandeur, grace, and love:
He was indeed a bird for Jove.
He foar'd aloft in Brucum's field,
And thousand Kites and Vultures kill'd;
Which made him dear to all that flew,
Unless to Robin and his crew.

One day poor Bob, puff'd up with pride, Thinking the combat to abide, A goofe-quill on for weapon ty'd, Knowing by ufe, that, now and then, A fword lefs hurt does than a pen.

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Juft in the moment this was done,
Ten thousand foes in fight were come :
Vultures, and Kites, and birds of prey,
In flocks fo thick-they darken'd day.
A long-concerted force and strong,
Vermin of all kinds made the throng;
Foxes were in the faction join'd,
Who waited their approach to ground.

By every hand, from common fare,
The frightful face of danger came.

One cries, "What help now-who can tell?
I'm glad the Eagle 's here, and well!"
Another out of breath with fear,
Says, "Thousands more near fea appear;
They'll fwop our Chicken from the door;
We never were so set before:
We 're glad the Eagle will forget,
And the invaders kill or beat."

Referv'd and great, his noble mind,
Above all petty things inclin'd,
Abhorr'd the thoughts of any thing,
But what his Lady's peace could bring:
Who blefs'd him firft, and bade him do
As he was wont, and beat the foe.

Burning and restlefs as the fun,
Until this willing work was done;
He whets his talons, ftretch'd his wings,
His lightning darts, and terror flings;
Towers with a flight into the fky,
Thefe million monsters to defcry,
Prepar'd to conquer, or to die.

The party, that so far was come,
Thought not the Eagle was at home:
To fame and danger us'd in field,
They knew he 'd quickly make them yield;
But, on affurance he was near,
Incumber'd, faint, and dead with fear,
They made with hurry towards the lakes
And he his pinions o'er them shakes.
They had not (with fuch horror fill'd)
The courage to let one be kill'd:
They fled, and left no foe behind,
Unless it were the fleeting wind:
Only a man by water took
Two fine young Merlins and a Rook.
The family had now repofe :
But with the fun the Eagle rofe;
Th' imperial bird purfu'd the foe,
More toil than reft inur'd to know,
He wing'd his way to Latian land,

Where firft was hatch'd this murdering band;
He darted death where'er he came,
Some of them dying at his name.
Their mighty foe-a fatal pledge,
Their bowels tore through every hedge:
They flutter, fhriek, and caw, and hifs;
Their ftrength decays, and fears increase:
But most the chevaliers the Geese.
So many flaughter'd fowl there was,
Their carcafes block'd-up the ways;
The refl he drove, half spent, pell-mell,
Quite to the walls of Pontifell."

Robin at home, though mad to hear
He fhould fo conquer every where,
Expoftulated thus with fear:

Ungrateful I, that fo have firr'd Against this generous, noble bird, Waft thou not first by him preferr'd? Let's leave him in his gall to burn, And back to Pontifell return."

There fome to chimney-tops afpire, To turrets fome that could fly higher; Some 'above a hundred miles were gone, To rooft them at Byzantium.

Alas! in vain was their pretence,

He broke through all their strong defence: Down went their fences, wires, and all; Perches and birds together fall.

None hop'd his power to withstand,
But gave the neft to his command:
They told him of ten thousand more,
In flocks along the Ganges' fhore,
Safe in their furrows, free from trouble,
Like Partridges among the ftubble.
He spreads himself, and cuts the air,
And fteady flight foon brought him there.
Lord, how deceiv'd and vex'd he was!
To find they were but meer Jackdaws.
A hundred thousand all in light,
They all could chatter, not one fight.
"I'll deal by them as is their due:
"Shough! cry'd the Eagle; off they flew."
His flashing eye their hearts confounds,
Though by their flight fecure from wounds,
Which was a fignal, fatal baulk
To a late fwift Italian Hawk.

The Eagle would no rest afford,
Till he had fent my Lady word;
Who when she heard the dear furprize,
Wonder and joy ftood in her eyes.

"My faithful Eagle, haft thou then
My mortal fots deftroy'd again?
Return, return, and on me wait;
Be thou the guardian of my gate;
Thee and thy friends are worth my care,
Thy foes (if any fuch there are)
Shall my avenging anger share."
So-left new ills thould intervene,
She turn'd the Robin out again.

The Samians now, in vast delight,
Blefs their good lady day and night;
With that her life might ne'er be done,
But everlasting as the fun.

The Eagle high again did foar ;
The Lady was difturb'd no more,
But all things flourish'd as before.

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ROBIN RED BREAST, WITH THE BEASTS,

AN OLD CAT'S PROPHECY;

TAKEN OUT OF AN OLD COPY OF VERSES SUPPOSED TO BE WRIT BY JOHN LIDGATE, A MONK OF BURY.

NE that had in her infant flate, While playing at her Father's gate,