So when o'er Crane-Court's philosophic Gods
The Jove-like majesty of Pringle nods,

If e'er he chance to wake on Newton's chair, 85 He" wonders how the devil he got there."

Whate'er his fame or fate, on this depend-
He is, and means to be, his country's friend.
'Tis but to try his strength that now he sports
With Chinese gardens, and with Chinese courts: 90
But if that country claim a graver strain,
If real danger threat fair Freedom's reign;
If hireling P**rs, in prostitution bold,

Sell her as cheaply as themselves they sold;
Or they, who honour'd by the People's choice, 95
Against that People lift their rebel voice,
And basely crouching for their paltry pay,
Vote the best birthright of her sons away,
Permit a nation's in-born-wealth to fly

In mean, unkingly prodigality;

100

Nor, ere they give, ask how the sums were spent, So quickly squander'd tho' so lately lent

If this they dare, the thunder of his song,

Rolling in deep-ton'd energy along,

Shall strike, with Truth's dead bolt, each mis

creant's name,

Who, dead to duty, senseless e'en to shame,

105

Betray'd his country. Yes, ye faithless crew,
His Muse's vengeance shall your crimes pursue,
Stretch you on Satire's rack, and bid you lie
Fit garbage for the hell-hound Infamy!

SELIM;

OR,

THE SHEPHERD'S MORAL.

AN ORIENTAL ECLOGUE.

BY COLLINS.

SCENE A VALLEY NEAR BAGDAT.

Time-The Morning.

YE Persian maids, attend your poet's lays, And hear how shepherds pass their golden days. Not all are blest, whom fortune's hand sustains With wealth in courts, nor all that haunt the plains; hearts believe the truths I tell!

Well may your

'Tis virtue makes the bliss, where'er we dwell.

Thus Selim sung, by sacred truth inspir'd; Nor praise, but such as truth bestow'd, desir'd: Wise in himself, his meaning songs convey'd Informing morals to the shepherd maid;

Or taught the swains that surest bliss to find, What groves nor streams bestow, a virtuous mind.

When sweet and blushing, like a virgin brideThe radiant morn resum'd her orient pride, When wanton gales along the valleys play, Breathe on each flower,and bear their sweets away; By Tigris' wandering waves he sat, and sung This useful lesson for the fair and young.

Ye Persian dames, he said, to you belong, Well may they please, the morals of my song: No fairer maids, I trust, than you are found, Graced with soft arts, the peopled world around! The morn that lights you, to your loves supplies Each gentler ray delicious to your eyes.

For you those flowers her fragrant hands bestow,
And yours the love that kings delight to know.
Yet think not these, all beauteous as they are,
The best kind blessings Heaven can grant the fair;
Who trust alone in beauty's feeble ray,...
Boast but the worth Bassora's pearls display;

Drawn from the deep, we own their surface bright,.

But, dark within, they drink no lustrous light:

Such are the maids, and such the charms they boast,,

By sense unaided, or to virtue lost..

Self-flattering sex! your hearts believe in vain.
That love shall blind, when once he fires the swain;
Or hope a lover by your faults to win,
As spots on ermin beautify the skin.

Who seeks secure to rule, be first her care
Each softer, virtue that adorns the fair;
Each tender passion man delights to find,
The lov'd perfections of a female mind!

Blest were the days, when wisdom held her reign, And shepherds sought her on the silent plain; With Truth she wedded in the secret grove, Immortal Truth, and daughters bless'd their love.

O haste, fair maids! ye Virtues, come away! Sweet Peace and Plenty lead you on your way! The balmy shrub for you shall love our shore, By Ind excell'd, or Araby, no more.

Lost to our fields, for so the Fates ordain, The dear deserters shall return again.