XV.
But ye, whom yet wife Liberty infpires,
Whom for her champions o'er the world she claims,
(That household godhead whom of old your fires
Sought in the woods of Elbe, and bore to Thames)
Drive ye this hoftile omen far away;
Their own fell efforts on her foes repay;
Your wealth, your arts, your fame, be her's alone:
Still gird your fwords to combat on her fide;
Still frame your laws her generous test to abide;
And win to her defence the altar and the throne.
XVI.
Protect her from yourselves, ere yet the flood
Of golden luxury, which commerce pours,
Hath spread that selfish fiercenefs through your blood,
Which not her lighteft difcipline indures :
Snatch from fantastic demagogues her caufe:
Dream not of Numa's manners, Plato's laws:
A wifer founder, and a nobler plan,
O fons of Alfred, were for you affign'd:
Bring to that birthright but an equal mind,
And no fublimer lot will fate referve for man.
UEEN of my fongs, harmonious maid,
Ah why haft thou withdrawn thy aid?
Ah why forfaken thus my breast
With inaufpicious damps opprefs'd?
Where is the dread prophetic heat,
With which my bofom wont to beat?
Where all the bright mysterious dreams
Of haunted groves and tuneful streams,
That woo'd my genius to divineft themes?
Say, goddefs, can the feftal board,
Or young Olympia's form ador'd;
Say, can the pomp of promis'd fame
Relume thy faint, thy dying flame?
Or have melodious airs the power
To give one free, poetic hour?
Or, from amid the Elyfian train,
The foul of Milton shall I gain,
To win thee back with fome celeftial ftrain?
O powerful ftrain, O facred foul!
His numbers every sense controul:
And now again my bofom burns;
The Mufe, the Muse herself, returns.
Such on the banks of Tyne, confefs'd,
I hail'd the fair immortal guest,
When firft fhe feal'd me for her own,
Made all her blifsful treasures known,
And bade me fwear to follow Her alone.
O, foolish youth-To virtuous fame
If now thy early hopes be vow'd,
If true ambition's nobler flame
Command thy footfteps from the croud,
Lean not to Love's inchanting fnare;
His fongs, his words, his looks beware,
Nor join his votaries, the young and fair.
By thought, by dangers, and by toils,
The wreath of just renown is worn;
Nor will ambition's awful spoils
The flowery pomp of ease adorn :
But love unbends the force of thought;
By love unmanly fears are taught;
And love's reward with gaudy floth is bought.
Yet thou haft read in tuneful lays,'
And heard from many a zealous breaft,
The pleafing tale of Beauty's praise
In Wisdom's lofty language drefs'd;
Of Beauty powerful to impart
Each finer fenfe, each comelier art,
And foothe and polish man's ungentle heart.
If then, from love's deceit fecure,
Thus far alone thy wishes tend,
Go; fee the white-wing'd evening hour
On Delia's vernal walk defcend:
Go, while the golden light ferene,
The grove, the lawn, the foften'd fcene, Becomes the prefence of the rural queen.
Attend, while that harmonious tongue
Each bofom, each defire commands:
Apollo's lute by Hermes ftrung
And touch'd by chafte Minerva's hands,
Attend. I feel a force divine,
O Delia, win my thoughts to thine;
That half the colour of thy life is mine.
Yet, confcious of the dangerous charm,
Soon would I turn my steps away;
Nor oft provoke the lovely harm,
Nor lull my reafon's watchful fway.
But thou, my friend-I hear thy fighs:
Alas, I read thy downcaft eyes;
And thy tongue faulters; and thy colour flies,
So foon again to meet the fair?
So penfive all this abfent hour?
-O yet, unlucky youth, beware,
While yet to think is in thy power.
In vain with friendship's flattering name
Thy paffion veils its inward fhame;
Friendship, the treacherous fuel of thy flame!
VIII.
Once I remember, new to love,
And dreading his tyrannic chain,
I fought a gentle maid, to prove
What peaceful joys in friendship reign ;
Whence we forfooth might fafely stand,
And pitying view the love-fick band,
And mock the winged boy's malicious hand.
Thus frequent pafs'd the cloudlefs day,
To fmiles and fweet difcourfe refign'd;
While I exulted to furvey
One generous woman's real mind:
Till friendship foon my languid breaft Each night with unknown cares poffefs'd, Dafh'd my coy flumbers, or my dreams diftrefs'd.
Fool that I was!-And now, even now
While thus I preach the Stoic ftrain,
Unless I fhun Olympia's view,
An hour unfays it all again.
O friend!-when love directs her eyes
To pierce where every paffion lies,
Where is the firm, the cautious, or the wife?
|