Some want the courage; but how few the flame!
'They like the thing, that startle at the name.
The lonely Phoenix, tho' profefs'd a nun,.
Warms into love, and kindles at the fun.
Thofe tales of spicy urns, and fitagrant fires,
Are but the emblems of her fcorch'd defires."
Then, as he ftrove to clafp the fleeting fair,
His empty arms confefs'd th' impaffive air.
From his embrace th'unbody'd fpe&tre flies;
And, as fhe mov'd, fhe chid him with her eyes.
They haften now to that delightful plain,
Where the glad manes of the bless'd remain :
Where Hervey gathers fimples, to bestow
Immortal youth on heroes fhades below.
Soon as the bright Hygeia was in view,
The venerable fage her prefence knew:
Thus he
Hail, blooming goddess! thou propitious pow'r,
Whose bleffings mortals more than life implore,
With so much luftre your bright looks endear,
That cottages are courts where those appear.
Mankind, as you vouchfafe to smile or frown,
Finds ease in chains, or anguish in a crown.
With just resentments and contempt you fee
The foul diffentions of the Faculty;
How your fad fick'ning art now hangs her head;
And, once a fcience, is become a trade.
Her fons ne'er rifle her myfterious store,
But ftudy Nature lefs, and lucre more..
Not fo, when Rome to th' Epidaurian rais'd
A temple, where devoted incense blaz'd.
Oft father. Tyber views the lofty fire,
As the learn'd fon is worshipp'd like the fire;
The fage with Romulus like honours claim;
The gift of life and laws were then the fame.
I fhow'd, of old, how vital currents glide,
And the meanders of their refluent tide.
Then, Willis, why fpontaneous actions here,
And whence involuntary motions there:
And how the spirits, by mechanic laws,
In wild careers tumultuous riots caufe.
Nor wou'd our Wharton, Bates, and Gliffon lie
In the abyss of blind Obfcurity.
But, now, fuch wond'rous fearches are forborne,
And Pæan's art is by divifions torn.
Then let your Charge attend, and I'll explain
How her loft health your fcience may regain.
Hafte, and the matchlefs Atticus addrefs;
From Heav'n and great Nassau he has the mace.
Th' opprefs'd to his asylum ftill repair;
Arts he fupports, and Learning is his care.
He foftens the harsh rigour of the laws,
Blunts their keen edge, and grinds their harpy claws;
And, graciously, he cafts a pitying eye
On the fad state of virtuous poverty.
When e'er he speaks, Heav'ns! how the lift'ning throng
Dwells on the melting mufic of his tongue!
His arguments are emblems of his mien,
Mild, but not faint; and forcing, tho' ferene;
And, when the pow'r of eloquence he'd try,
Here, light'ning ftrikes you; there, foft breezes figh
To him you must your fickly state refer;
Your charter claims him as your Visiter.
Your wounds he'll clofe, and fov'reignly restore
Your science to the height it had before.
Then Naffau's health fhall be your glorious aim,
His life should be as lasting as his fame.
Some princes claims from devastations spring,
He condefcends, in pity, to be king:
And when, amidst his olives plac'd, he stands,
And governs more by candour than commands,
Ev'n then not lefs a hero he
Than when a Laurel diadem he wears.
Wou'd Phoebus, or his G-le, but inspire
Their facred veh'mence of poetic fire;
To celebrate in fong that godlike pow'r,
Which did the lab'ring universe restore:
Fair Albion's cliffs would echo to the strain,
And praise the arm that conquer'd, to regain
The earth's repofe, and empire o'er the main.
Still may th' immortal man his cares repeat,
To make his bleffings endless as they're great :
Whilft Malice and Ingratitude confefs
They've ftrove for ruin long, without fuccefs.
When, late, Jove's eagle from the pyle fhall rife,
To bear the victor to the boundless skies,
Awhile the God puts off paternal care,
Neglects the earth to give the Heav'ns a fiar.
Near thee, Alcides, fhall the hero fhine;
His rays resembling, as his labours, thine.
Had fome fam'd patriot, of the Latin blood,.
Like Julius great, and like Octavius good,
But thus preferv'd the Latin liberties,
Afpiring columns foon had reach'd the skies:
Loud Io's the proud capitol had shook,
And all the ftatues of the gods had spoke.
No more the fage his raptures could purfue: He paus'd; and Celfus, with his guide, withdrew.
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