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Whose heart must every strong emotion know,
Inspir'd by Nature, or by Fortune taught;
That he, if haply some presumptuous foe,
With false ignoble science fraught,
Shall spurn at Freedom's faithful band;
That he their dear defence will shun,

Or hide their glories from the Sun,
Or deal their vengeance with a woman's hand !

To watch the state's uncertain frame,
And baffle Faction's partial aim :
But chiefly, with determin'd zeal,
To quell that servile band, who kneel

To Freedom's banish'd foes;
That monster, which is daily found
Expert and bold thy country's peace to wound;
Yet dreads to handle arms, nor manly counsel knows.

VI.

IV.

'Tis highest Heaven's command,

That guilty aims should sordid paths pursue ; I care not that in Arno's plain,

That what ensnares the heart should maim the Or on the sportive banks of Seine,

hand, From public themes the Muse's quire

And Virtue's worthless foes be false to Glory too. Content with polish'd ease retire.

But look on Freedom. See, through every age Where priests the studious head command,

What labors, perils, griefs, hath she disdain'd! Where tyrants bow the warlike hand

What arms, what regal pride, what priestly rage, To vile Ambition's aim,

Have her dread offspring conquer'd or sustain'd! Say, what can public themes afford,

For Albion well have conquer'd. Let the strains Save venal honors to an hateful lord,

Of happy swains,
Reserv'd for angry Heaven, and scorn'd of honest

Which now resound
Fame?

Where Scarsdale's cliffs the swelling pastures

bound, But here, where Freedom's equal throne

Bear witness. There, oft let the farmer hail To all her valiant sons is known;

The sacred orchard which embowers his gate, Where all are conscious of her cares,

And show to strangers passing down the vale, And each the power, that rules him, shares ;

Where Ca'ndish, Booth, and Osborne sate; Here let the Bard, whose dastard tongue

When, bursting from their country's chain, Leaves public arguments unsung,

Even in the midst of deadly harms,
Bid public praise farewell:

Of papal snares and lawless arms,
Let him to filter climes remove,
Far from the hero's and the patriot's love,

They plann'd for Freedom this her noblest reign. And lull mysterious monks to slumber in their cell.

O Hastings, not to all
Can ruling Heaven the same endowments lend :

This reign, these laws, this public care,
Yet still doth Nature to her offspring call,

Which Nassau gave us all to share, That to one general weal their different powers

Had ne'er adorn'd the English name, they bend,

Could Fear have silenc'd Freedom's claim. Unenvious. Thus alone, though strains divine

But Fear in vain attempts to bind Inform the bosom of the Muse's son;

Those lofty efforts of the mind Though with new honors the patrician's line

Which social Good inspires; Advance from age to age; yet thus alone

Where men, for this, assault a throne, They win the suffrage of impartial Fame.

Each adds the common welfare to his own; The poet's name

And each unconquer'd heart the strength of all He best shall prove,

acquires. Whose lays the soul with noblest passions move. But thee, O progeny of heroes old,

Say, was it thus, when late we view'd Thee to severer toils thy fate requires :

Our fields in civil blood imbrued ? The fate which form'd ihee in a chosen mould,

When Fortune crown'd the barbarous host, The grateful country of thy sires,

And half the astonish'd isle was lost? Thee to sublimer paths demand;

Did one of all that vaunting train, Sublimer than thy sires could trace,

Who dare affront a peaceful reign, Or thy own Edward teach his race,

Durst one in arms appear ?
Though Gaul's proud genius sank beneath his hand.

Durst one in counsels pledge his life?
Stake his luxurious fortunes in the strife ?

Or lend his boasted name his vagrant friends to
V.

cheer? From rich domains and subject farms, They led the rustic youth to arms;

Yet, Hastings, these are they And kings their stern achievements fear'd;

1 Who challenge to themselves thy country's love ; While private Strife their banners rear'd.

The true; the constant: who alone can weigh But loftier scenes to thee are shown,

What Glory should demand, or Liberty approve! Where Empire's wide-establish'd throne

But let their works declare them. Thy free powers, No private master fills :

The generous powers of thy prevailing mind, Where, long foretold, the people reigns:

Not for the tasks of their confederate hours, Where each a vassal's humble heart disdains; I

Lewd brawls and lurking slander, were design'd. And judgeth what he sees; and, as he judgeth, wills. Be thou thy own approver. Honest praise

Oft nobly sways Here be it thine to calm and guide

Ingenuous youth: The swelling democratic tide ;

| But, sought from cowards and the lying mouth,

Praise is reproach. Eternal God alone

The kindred powers, Tethys, and reverend Ops, For mortals fixeth that sublime award.

And spotless Vesta ; while supreme of sway He, from the faithful records of his throne, Remain'd the cloud-compeller. From the couch Bids the historian and the bard

of Tethys sprang the sedgy-crowned race, Dispose of honor and of scorn;

Who from a thousand urns, o'er every clime, Discern the patriot from the slave;

Send tribute to their parent: and from them
And write the good, the wise, the brave Are ye, O Naiads: Arethusa fair,
For lessons to the multitude unborn.

And tuneful Aganippe; that sweet name,
Bandusia; that soft family which dwelt
With Syrian Daphne ; and the honor'd tribes

Belov'd of Pæon. Listen to my strain,
HYMN TO THE NAIADS.

Daughters of Tethys: listen to your praise.

You, Nymphs, the winged offspring, which of old 1746.

Aurora to divine Astræus bore,

Owns; and your aid beseecheth. When the might Argument.

Of Hyperion, from his noontide throne The nymphs, who preside over springs and rivulets, Unbends their languid pinions, aid from you

are addressed at day-break, in honor of their They ask : Favonius and the mild South-west several functions, and of the relations which they From you relief implore. Your sallying siteams bear to the natural and to the moral world. Their Fresh vigor to their weary wings impart. origin is deduced from the first allegorical deities, Again they fly, disporting; from the mead or powers of Nature; according to the doctrine of Half-ripen'd and the tender blades of corn, the old mythological poets, concerning the gene- To sweep the noxious mildew; or dispel ration of the gods and the rise of things. They Contagious steams, which oft the parched Earth are then successively considered, as giving motion Breathes on her fainting sons. From noon lo est, to the air and exciting summer-breezes; as nour. Along the river and the paved brook, ishing and beautifying the vegetable creation; as Ascend the cheerful breezes: hailid of bards contributing to the fullness of navigable rivers, Who, fast by learned Cam, the Æolian lyte and consequently to the maintenance of com- Solicit; nor unwelcome to the youth merce; and, by that means, to the maritime part Who on the heights of Tibur, all inclin'd of military power. Next is represented their O'er rushing Anio, with a pious hand favorable influence upon health, when assisted by The reverend scene delineates, broken fanes, rural exercise : which introduces their connexion Or tombs, or pillar'd aqueducts, the pomp with the art of physic, and the happy effects of Of ancient Time; and haply, while he scans mineral medicinal springs. Lastly, they are cele. The ruins, with a silent tear resolves brated for the friendship which the Muses bear. The same and fortune of imperious Rome. them, and for the true inspiration which temper-/ You too, O Nymphs, and your unenvious aid ance only can receive: in opposition to the en- The rural powers confess; and still prepare thusiasm of the more licentious poets.

For you their choicest treasures. Pan commands,

Oft as the Delian king with Sirius holds O'er yonder eastern hill the twilight pale

The central heavens, the father of the grove Walks forth from darkness ; and the god of day, Commands his Dryads over your abodes With bright Astræa seated by his side,

To spread their deepest umbrage. Well the god Waits yet to leave the ocean. Tarry, Nymphs, Remembereth how indulgent ye supplied Ye Nymphs, ye blue-ey'd progeny of Thames, Your genial dew's to nurse them in their prime. Who now the mazes of this rugged heath

Pales, the pasture's queen, where'er ye stray, Trace with your fleeting steps; who all night long Pursues your steps, delighted; and the path Repeat, amid the cool and tranquil air,

With living verdure clothes. Around your haunla Your lonely murmurs, tarry: and receive

The laughing Chloris, with profusest hand, My offer'd lay. To pay you homage due,

Throws wide her blooms, her odors. Still with ira I leave the gates of Sleep; nor shall my lyre Pomona seeks to dwell: and o'er the lawns, Too far into the splendid hours of morn

And o'er the vale of Richmond, where with Thames Engage your audience: my observant hand Ye love to wander, Amalthea pours Shall close the strain ere any sultry beam

Well-pleas'd the wealth of that Ammonian hori, Approach you. To your subterranean haunts Her dower; unmindful of the fragrant isles Ye then may timely steal; to pace with care Nysæan or Atlantic. Nor canst thou, The humid sands; to loosen from the soil

(Albeit oft, ungrateful, thou dost mock The bubbling sources; to direct the rills

The beverage of the sober Naiad's urn, To meet in wider channels; or beneath

O Bromius, O Lenean) nor canst thou Some grotto's dripping arch, at height of noon Disown the powers whose bounty, ill repaid, To slumber, shelter'd from the burning heaven. With nectar feeds thy tendrils. Yet from me,

Where shall my song begin, ye Nymphs ? or end? Yet, blameless Nymphs, from my delighted lyte. Wide is your praise and copious—First of things, Accept the rites your bounty well may claim, First of the lonely powers, ere Time arose,

Nor heed the scoffings of the Edonian band. Were Love and Chaos. Love the sire of Fate; For better praise awaits you. Thames, your site, Elder than Chaos. Born of Fate was Time, As down the verdant slope your duteous fills Who many sons and many comely births

Descend, the tribute stately Thames receives, Devour'd, relentless father: till the child

Delighted; and your piety applauds ; Of Rhea drove him from the upper sky

And bids his copious tide roll on secure, And quellid his deadly might. Then social reign'dFor faithful are bis daughters; and with words

Auspicious gratulates the bark which, now

Which wait on human life. Your gentle aid His banks forsaking, her adventurous wings Hygeia well can witness ; she who saves Yields to the breeze, with Albion's happy gifts From poisonous cates and cups of pleasing bane Extremest isles to bless. And oft at morn,

The wretch devoted to the entangling snares When Hermes, from Olympus bent o'er Earth Of Bacchus and of Comus. Him she leads To bear the words of Jove, on yonder hill

To Cynthia's lonely haunts. To spread the toils, Stoops lightly-sailing; oft intent your springs |To beat the coverts, with the jovial horn He views : and waving o'er some new-born stream At dawn of day to summon the loud hounds, His blest pacific wand, “ And yet,” he cries,

She calls the lingering sluggard from his dreams : “ Yet," cries the son of Maia, “though recluse And where his breast may drink the mountain breeze, And silent be your stores, from you, fair Nymphs, And where the servor of the sunny vale Flows wealth and kind society io men.

May beat upon his brow, through devious paths By you, my function and my honor'd name Beckons his rapid courser. Nor when ease, Do I possess; while o'er the Bætic vale,

Cool ease and welcome slumbers have becalm'd Or through the towers of Memphis, or the palms His eager bosom, does the queen of health By sacred Ganges water'd, I conduct

Her pleasing care withhold. His decent board The English merchant: with the buxom fleece She guards, presiding; and the frugal powers Of fertile Ariconium while I clothe

With joy sedate leads in: and while the brown Sarmatian kings; or to the household gods

Ennaan dame with Pan presents her stores; Of Syria, from the bleak Cornubian shore, While changing still, and comely in the change, Dispense the mineral treasure which of old Vertumnus and the Hours before him spread Sidonian pilots sought, when this fair land

The garden's banquet; you to crown his feast, Was yet unconscious of those generous arts To crown his feast, o Naiads, you the fair Which wise Phænicia from their native clime Hygeia calls: and from your shelving seats, Transplanted to a more indulgent Heaven." And groves of poplar, plenteous cups ye bring,

Such are the words of Hermes: such the praise, To slake his veins : till soon a purer tide O Naiads, which from tongues celestial waits Flows down those loaded channels; washeth off Your bounteous deeds. From bounty issueth power: The dregs of luxury, the lurking seeds And those who, sedulous in prudent works, Of crude disease ; and through the abodes of life Relieve the wants of nature, Jove repays

Sends vigor, sends repose. Hail, Naiads : hail, With noble wealth, and his own seat on Earth, Who give, to labor, health ; to stooping age, Fit judgments to pronounce, and curb the might The joys which youth had squander'd. Oft your Of wicked men. Your kind unfailing urns

urns Not vainly to the hospitable arts

Will I invoke; and, frequent in your praise, Of Ilermes yield their store. For, O ye Nymphs, Abash the frantic Thyrsus with my song. Hath he not won the unconquerable queen

For not estrang'd from your benignant arts Of arms to court your friendship? You she owns Is he, the god, to whose mysterious shrine The fair associates who extend her sway

My youth was sacred, and my votive cares Wide o'er the mighty deep; and grateful things Belong; the learn'a Pæon. Oft, when all Of you she uttereth, oft as from the shore

His cordial treasures he hath search'd in vain ; Of Thames, or Medway's vale, or the green banks When herbs, and potent trees, and drops of balm of Vecta, she her thundering navy leads

Rich with the genial influence of the Sun, To Calpe's foaming channel, or the rough

|(To rouse dark Fancy from her plaintive dreams, Cantabrian surge; her auspices divine

To brace the nerveless arm, with food to win Imparting to the senate and the prince

Sick appetite, or hush the unquiet breast Of Albion, to dismay barbaric kings,

Which pines with silent passion, he in vain The Iberian, or the Celt. The pride of kings Hath prov'd ; to your deep mansions he descends, Was ever scorn'd by Pallas : and of old

Your gates of humid rock, your dim arcades, Rejoic'd the virgin, from the brazen prow

He entereth: where empurpled veins of ore Of Athens o'er Egina's gloomy surge,

Gleam on the roof; where through the rigid mine To drive her clouds and storms; o'erwhelming all Your trickling rills insinuate. There the god The Persian's promis'd glory, when the realms From your indulgent hands the streaming bowl Of Indus and the soft Ionian clime,

Wafts to his pale-ey'd suppliants; wafts the seeds When Libya's torrid champain and the rocks Metallic, and the elemental salts

(soon Of cold Imaus join'd their servile bands,

Wash'd from the pregnant glebe. They drink: and To sweep the sons of Liberty from Earth.

Flies pain; flies inauspicious care: and soon In vain : Minerva on the bounding prow

The social haunt or unfrequented shade Of Athens stood, and with the thunder's voice Hears lo, lo Pæan; as of old, Denounc'd her terrors on their impious heads, When Python sell. And, Oh propitious Nymphs, And shook her burning ægis. Xerxes saw:

Oft as for helpless mortals I implore From Heracleum, on the mountain's height

Your salutary springs, through every urn Thron'd in his golden car, he knew the sign Oh shed your healing treasures. With the first Celestial; felt uprighteous hope forsake

And finest breath, which from the genial strise His faltering heart, and turn'd his face with shame. of mineral fermentation springs like light

Hail, ye who share the stern Minerva's power; O'er the fresh morning's vapors, lustrate then Who arm the hand of Liberty for war;

The fountain, and inform the rising wave. And give to the renown's Britannic name

My lyre shall pay your bounty. Scorn not ye To awe contending monarchs: yet benign,

That humble tribute. Though a mortal hand Yet mild of nature; to the works of peace

Excite the strings to utterance, yet for themes More prone, and lenient of the many ills

Not unregarded of celestial powers,

I frame their language ; and the Muses deign With verse; let him, fit votarist, implore
To guide the pious tenor of my lay.

Their inspiration. He perchance the gifts The Muses (sacred by their gifts divine)

of young Lyæus, and the dread exploils, In early days did to my wondering sense

May sing in aptest numbers : he the fate Their secrets oft reveal: oft my rais'd ear

Of sober Pentheus, he the Paphian rites, In slumber felt their music : oft at noon,

And naked Mars with Cytherea chain’d, Or hour of sun-set, by some lonely stream, And strong Alcides in the spinster's robes, In field or shady grove, they taught me words May celebrate, applauded. But with you, Of power, from death and envy to preserve O Naiads, far from that unhallow'd rout, The good man's name. Whence yet with grateful Must dwell the man whoe'er to praised themes mind,

Invokes the immortal Muse. The immortal Mose And offerings unprofan'd by ruder eye,

To your calm habitations, to the cave My vows I send, my homage, to the seats

Corycian, or the Delphic mount, will guide Of rocky Cirrha, where with you they dwell : His footsteps; and with your unsullied streams Where you their chaste companions they admit His lips will bathe : whether the elemal lore Through all the hallow'd scene: where oft intent, JOf Themis, or the majesty of Jove, And leaning o'er Castalia's mossy verge,

To mortals he reveal; or teach his lyre They mark the cadence of your confluent urns, The unenvied guerdon of the patriot's loils, How tuneful, yielding gratefullest repose

In those unfading islands of the bless'd, To their consorted measure : till again,

Where sacred bards abide. Hail, honor'd Nymphs; With emulation all the sounding choir,

Thrice hail. For you the Cyrenaic shell And bright Apollo, leader of the song,

Behold, I touch, revering. To my songs
Their voices through the liquid air exalt,

Be present ye with favorable feet,
And sweep their lofty strings: those powerful strings And all profaner audience far remove.
That charm the mind of gods: that fill the courts
Of wide Olympus with oblivion sweet
of evils, with immortal rest from cares :
Assuage the terrors of the throne of Jove;
And quench the formidable thunderbolt
Of unrelenting fire. With slacken'd wings,

ODE
While now the solemn concert breathes around,
Incumbent o'er the sceptre of his lord

TO THE RIGHT REVEREND BENJAMIN, LORDSleeps the stern eagle ; by the number'd notes,

BISHOP OF WINCHESTER.
Possess'd ; and satiate with the melting tone:

I.
Sovereign of birds. The furious god of war,
His darts forgetting, and the winged wheels

For toils which patriots have endur'd,
That bear him vengeful o'er the embattled plain, For treason quell'd and laws securd,
Relents, and soothes his own fierce heart to ease, In every nation Time displays
Most welcome ease. The sire of gods and men, The palm of honorable praise.
In that great moment of divine delight,

Envy may rail; and Faction fierce Looks down on all that live; and whatsoe'er May strive; but what, alas! can those He loves not, o'er the peopled earth, and o'er (Though bold, yet blind and sordid foes) The interminated ocean, he beholds

To gratitude and love oppose,
Curs'd with abhorrence by his doom severe, To faithful story and persuasive verse!
And troubled at the sound. Ye Naiads, ye
With ravish'd ears the melody attend,

O nurse of Freedom, Albion, say,
Worthy of sacred silence. But the slaves

Thou tamner of despotic sway, Of Bacchus with tempestuous clamors strive

What man, among thy sons around, To drown the heavenly strains ; of highest Jove

Thus heir to glory hast thou found ? Irreverent, and by mad presumption fir'd

What page in all thy annals bright, Their own discordant raptures to advance

Hast thou with purer joy survey'd With hostile emulation. Down they rush

Than that where Truth, by Hoadly's aid, From Nysa's vine-empurpled cliff, the dames Shines through Imposture's solemn shade, Of Thrace, the Satyrs, and the unruly Fauns, Through kingly and through sacerdotal night? With old Silenus, reeling through the crowd Which gambols round him, in convulsions wild

To him the Teacher bless'd, Tossing their limbs, and brandishing in air

Who sent Religion, from the palmy field The ivy-mantled thyrsus, or the torch

By Jordan, like the morn to cheer the west, Through black smoke flaming, to the Phrygian pipe's And lifted up the veil which Heaven from Faria Shrill voice, and to the clashing cymbals, mix'd

conceal'a, With shrieks and frantic uproar. May the gods To Hoadly thus his mandate he address'd: From every unpolluted ear avert

“Go thou, and rescue my dishonor'd law Their orgies! If within the seats of men,

From hands rapacious, and from tongues impure Within the walls, the gates, where Pallas holds Let not my peaceful name be made a lure The guardian key, if haply there be found

Fell Persecution's mortal snares to aid: Who loves to mingle with the revel-band

Let not my words be impious chains to draw And hearken to their accents; who aspires

The free-born soul in more than brutal awe, From such instructors to inform his breast

To faith without assent, allegiance unrepard."

II.

III. No cold or unperforming hand

But where shall recompense be found ? Was arm'd by Heaven with this command. Or how such arduous merit crown'd? The world soon felt it: and, on high,

For look on life's laborious scene; To William's ear with welcome joy

What rugged spaces lie between Did Locke among the blest unfold

Adventurous Virtue's early toils The rising hope of Hoadly's name,

And her triumphal throne! The shade Godolphin then confirm'd the fame;

Of Death, meantime, does oft invade And Somers, when from Earth he came,

Her progress; nor, to us display'd, And generous Stanhope the fair sequel told. Wears the bright heroine her expected spoils.

Yet born to conquer is her power: Then drew the lawgivers around,

-O Hoadly, if that favorite hour (Sires of the Grecian name renown'd,)

On Earth arrive, with thankful awe And listening ask'd, and wondering knew,

We own just Heaven's indulgent law. What private force could thus subdue

And proudly thy success behold; The vulgar and the great combin'd;

We attend thy reverend length of days Could war with sacred Folly wage;

With benediction and with praise, Could a whole nation disengage

And hail thee in our public ways From the dread bonds of many an age,

Like some great spirit fam'd in ages old.
And to new habits mould the public mind.

While thus our vowg prolong
For not a conqueror's sword,

Thy steps on Earth, and when by us resign'd Nor the strong powers to civil founders known, Thou join'st thy seniors, that heroic throng

Were his : but truth by faithful search explor'd, Who rescued or preserv'd the rights of human-kind, And social sense, like seed, in genial plenty sown. 0! not unworthy may thy Albion's tongue Wherever it took root, the soul (restor'd

Thee still, her friend and benefactor, name : To freedom) freedom too for others sought.

0! never, Hoadly, in thy country's eyes, Not monkish craft, the tyrant's claim divine, May impious gold, or pleasure's gaudy prize, Not regal zeal, the bigot's cruel shrine,

Make public virtue, public freedom, vile; Could longer guard from reason's warfare sage; 1 Nor our own manners tempt us to disclaim Not the wild rabble to sedition wrought,

That heritage, our noblest wealth and fame, Nor synods by the papal genius taught,

Which thou hast kept entire from force and factious Nor St. John's spirit loose, nor Atterbury's rage.

guile.

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