In folemn Silence, a Majestick Band,
Heroes, and Gods, and Roman Confuls ftand,
Stern Tyrants, whom their Cruelties renown,
And Emperors in Parian Marble frown.

While the bright Dames, to whom they humbly fu’d, Still fhow the Charms that their proud Hearts subdu'd.

Fain wou'd I Raphael's Godlike Art rehearse, And show th' Immortal Labours in my Verse.

Where from the mingled ftrength of Shade and Light
A new Creation rifes to my Sight.

Such Heav'nly Figures from his Pencil flow,
So warm with Life his blended Colours glow.
From Theme to Theme with fecret Pleasure toft,
Amidft the foft Variety I'm loft:

Here pleafing Airs my ravifht Soul confound
With circling Notes and Labyrinths of Sound;
Here Domes and Temples rife in diftant Views,
And opening Palaces invite my Mufe.

How has kind Heav'n adorn'd the happy Land,
And scatter'd Bleffings with a wastful Hand!
But what avail her unexhaufted Stores,

Her blooming Mountains and her funny Shores,
With all the Gifts that Heaven and Earth impart,
The Smiles of Nature, and the Charms of Art,
While proud Oppreffion in her Vallies reigns,
And Tyranny ufurps her happy Flains?
The poor Inhabitant beholds in vain

The red'ning Orange and the fwelling Grain:
Joylefs he fees the growing Oils and Wines,
And in the Myrtles fragrant Shade repines:
Starves in the midst of Nature's Bounty curft,
And in the loaden Vineyard dies for Thirst.

Oh Liberty, thou Goddess Heav'nly bright,
Profufe of Blifs, and pregnant with Delight,
Eternal Pleasures in thy Prefence reign,

And fmiling Plenty leads thy wanton Train!

Eas'd of her load Subjection grows more light,
And Foverty looks chearful in thy fight;
Thou mak'ft the gloomy Face of Nature gay,
Giv'ft Beauty to the Sun, and Pleasure to the Day.
Thee, Goddess, Thee, Britannia's Ifle adores;
How has the oft exhausted all her Stores,
How oft in Fields of Death thy Presence fought?
Nor thinks the mighty Prize too dearly bought:
On Foreign Mountains may the Sun refine
The Grapes foft Juice, and mellow it to Wine,
With Citron Groves adorn a diftant Soil,
And the fat Olive fwell with floods of Oil:
We envy not the warmer Clime that lies
In ten Degrees of more indulgent Skies,
Nor at the Coarseness of our Heav'n repine,
Tho' o'er our Heads the frozen Pleiads fhine:
'Tis Liberty that Crowns Britannia's Ille,

And makes her barren Rocks and her bleak Mountains fmile.

Others with Tow'ring Piles may please the fight, And in their proud aspiring Domes delight; A nicer Touch to the ftretcht Canvas give, Or teach their animated Rocks to live: 'Tis Britain's Care to watch o'er Europe's Fate, And hold in Balance each contending State. To threaten bold prefumptuous Kings with War, And answer her afflicted Neighbour's Pray'r. The Dane and Swede rouz'd up by fierce Alarms, Blefs the Wife Conduct of her Pious Arms. Soon as her Fleets appear, their Terrors cease, And all the Northern World lies hufh'd in Peace. Th'ambitious Gaul beholds with fecret dread Her Thunder aim'd at his aspiring Head, And fain her Godlike Sons wou'd difunite By Foreign Gold, or by Domestick Spite; But ftrives in vain to Conquer or Divide, Whom Naffan's Arms defend and Counsels guide.

Fir'd with the Name, which I fo oft have found The diftant Climes and different Tongues refound; I bridle in my ftruggling Mufe with Pain, That longs to launch into a bolder Strain.

But I've already troubled you too long, Nor dare attempt a more advent'rous Song. My humble Verse demands a fofter Theme, A painted Meadow or a purling Stream, Unfit for Heroes; whom Immortal Lays, And Lines like Virgil's, or like yours fhou'd praife.

On the Death of AMYNTAS: A Paftoral ELEGY.

Written by Mr. DRYDEN.

Was on a Joylefs and a Gloomy Morn,

}

Wet was the Grafs, and hung with Pearls the When Damon, who defign'd to pafs the Day [Thorn; With Hounds and Horns, and chafe the flying Prey, Rofe early from his Bed; but foon he found The Welkin pitch'd with fullen Clouds around, An Eafern Wind, and Dew upon the Ground. Thus while he ftood, and fighing did furvey The Fields, and curs'd th' ill Omens of the Day, He faw Menalcas come with heavy pace; Wet were his Eyes, and chearlefs was his Face: He wrung his Hands, diftracted with his Care, And fent his Voice before him from afar. Return, he cry'd, return unhappy Swain, The fpungy Clouds are fill'd with gath'ring Rain; The Promife of the Day not only cross'd, But ev❜n the Spring, the Spring itself is loft. Amyntas,Oh! he cou'd not speak the reft, Nor needed, for prefaging Damon guess'd. Equal with Heav'n young Damon lov'd the Boy; The boast of Nature, both his Parents Joy.

His graceful Form revolving in his Mind;
So great a Genius, and a Soul fo kind,
Gave fad affurance that his Fears were true;
Too well the Envy of the Gods he knew:
For when their Gifts too lavishly are plac'd,
Soon they repent, and will not make them laft.
For, fure, it was too bountiful a Dole,

The Mother's Features, and the Father's Soul.
Then thus he cry'd, The Morn befpoke the News,
The Morning did her chearful Light diffuse;
But fee how fuddenly fhe chang'd her Face, [grace;
And brought on Clouds and Rains, the Day's Dif-
Juft fuch, Amyntas, was thy promis'd Race!
What Charms adorn'd thy Youth where Nature
And more than Man was giv'n us in a Child! [smil'd,
His Infancy was ripe: a Soul fublime

In Years fo tender that prevented time:

Heav'n gave him all at once; then fnatch'd away, E'er Mortals all his Beauties cou'd furvey:

Juft like the Flow'r that buds and withers in a Day.

MENAL CAS.

The Mother Lovely, tho' with Grief oppreft, Reclin'd his dying Head upon her Breaft. The mournful Family ftood all around; One Groan was heard, one Univerfal Sound: All were in Floods of Tears and endlefs Sorrow So dire a Sadness fate on ev'ry Look,

[drown'd. Even Death repented he had giv'n the Stroke. He griev'd his fatal Work had been ordain'd, But promis'd length of Life to those who yet remain'd The Mother's and her Eldest Daughter's Grace, It seems had brib'd him to prolong their space: The Father bore it with undaunted Soul, Like one who durft his Destiny controul: Yet with becoming Grief he bore his part, Refign'd his Son, but not refign'd his Heart..

Patient as Job; and may he live to fee,
Like him, a new increaling Family;

DAMO N.

Such is my With, and fuch my Prophefie. For yet, my Friend, the Beauteous Mold remains, Long may the exercife her fruitful Pains: But, ah! with better hap, and bring a Race More lafting, and endu'd with equal Grace: Equal fhe may, but farther none can go; For he was all that was exact below.

MENAL CAS.

Damon, behold, yon breaking Purple Cloud; Hear'st thou not Hymns and Songs Divinely loud There mounts Amyntas; the young Cherubs play About their Godlike Mate, and Sing him on his way. He cleaves the liquid Air, behold he flies, And every Moment gains upon the Skies; The new come Guest admires th’Ætherial State, The Saphir Portal, and the Golden Gate; And now admitted in the fhining Throng, He shows the Pafsport which he brought along; His Passport is his Innocence and Grace, "Well known to all the Natives of the Place. Now Sing ye joyful Angels, and admire

[Quire:

Your Brother's Voice that comes to mend your
Sing you, while endless Tears our Eyes bestow;
For like Amyntas none is left below.

On the DEATH of a very young Gentleman.

By Mr. DRYDEN.

E who cou'd view the Book of Destiny,
And read whatever there was writ of thee,
Charming Touth, in the first op'ning Page,
So many Graces in fo green an Age,