But he, difclofing facred Myfterics,

Has fhewn where all the mighty Magick lies;
Defcrib'd the Seeds, and in what order fown,
That have to fuch a vaft Proportion grown.
Sure, from fome Angel he the Secret knew,
Who through this Labyrinth has lent the Clue!

But what, alas! avails it poor Mankind,

To fee this promis'd Land, yet ftay behind?
The Way is fhewn, but who has Strength to go!
Who can all Sciences profoundly know?
Whose Fancy flics beyond weak Reason's Sight,
And yet has Judgment to direct it right?
Whofe juft Difcernment, VIRGIL-like, is fuch,
Never to say too little, or too much?
Let fuch a Man begin without delay;

But he must do beyond what I can say;

Must above TASSO's lofty Flights prevail,

Succeed where SPENCER, and ev'n MILTON fail.

ODE

ON

BRUTUS

T

I.

'IS faid, that Favorite, Mankind,

Was made the Lord of all below;

a

But yet the doubtful are concern'd to find,

'Tis only one Man tells another fo.

And, for this great Dominion here,

Which over other Beafts we claim,

Reason, our beft Credential does appear;
By which indeed we domincer;

But how abfurdly, we may fee with fhame.

Reafon,

Reason, that folemn Trifle! light as Air ;

- Driv'n up and down, by Cenfure, or Applaufe? By partial Love away 'tis blown,

Or the leaft Prejudice can weigh it down ;

Thus our high Privilege becomes our Snare.
In any nice, and weighty Cause,

How weak, at beft, is Reason! yet the Grave
Impose on that small Judgment which we have.

II.

In all thofe Wits, whofe Names have fpread fo wide

And ev'n the force of Time defy'd,

Some Failings yet may be descry'd.

Among the reft, with Wonder be it told

That BRUTUS is admir'd for CASAR'S Death;
By which he yet furvives in Fame's immortal Breath.
ERUTUS, ev'n he, of all the rest,

In whom we should that Deed the most deteft,

Is of Mankind efteem'd the best.

As Snow defcending from fome lofty Hill,
Is by its rowling Course augmenting ftill;
So from illuftrious Authors down have rowl'd
Thofe great Encomiums he receiv'd of old:
Republick Orators ftill fhew Efteem,

And guild their Eloquence with Praise of him. But Truth unvail'd like a bright Sun appears,

To fhine away this Heap of fev'nteen hundred Years.

III.

In vain 'tis urg'd by an illustrious Wit,
(To whom in all befides I willingly submit)

That CAESAR's Life no Pity could deferve
From one who kill'd himself, rather than ferve.

Had BRUTUS chofe rather himself to flay,

Than any Master to obey;

Happy for Rome had been that noble Pride;

The World had then remain'd in Peace, and only

BRUTUS dy'd.

For

For he, whofe Soul difdains to own

Subjection to a Tyrant's Frown,

And his own Life would rather end;

Would, furc, much rather kill himself, than only hurt
his Friend.

To his own Sword in the Philippian Field
BRUTUS indeed at laft did yield;

But in thofe Times Self-killing was not rare;

And his proceeded only from Defpair;
He might have chofen elfe to live,

In hopes another CÆSAR would forgive;

Then for the good of Rome he could once more
Confpire against a Life which had spared his before.

IV.

Our Country challenges our utmost Care,

And in our Thoughts deferves the tender'ft Share;
Her to a thousand Friends we should prefer ;

Yet not betray 'em tho' it be for her.