Mark the bold thoughts with truth and virtue beam,
Shewing what GOD shall judge and CHRIST redeem!
Th' Asbestos robe which the chaste style arrays,
Impassive shield from envy's lurid blaze,
Where simple, nervous, as in early time,
Where plaintive, touching, and where rais'd, sublime.
If thou rememberest thro' how many a year
Deaf as the grave was found the general ear
To VERSE †, whose fame is now the NATION's cause,
With scarce one voice appellant from her laws;
How long the owlish orb of general sight
Found mist and darkness in excessive light;
If, conscious of each grandeur and each grace,
The POET's sun-track thy clear vision trace;
If thy heart throb to see thy native land,
The Muses' proudest eminence command;
And if thy spirit o'er such glorious lays
Wait not for tardy precedents to praise;
Then, reader, then with me, for MADOC claim,
With voice anticipant, the palm of Fame,
And on each leaf, with patriot pride, descry
The bursting germs of IMMORTALITY.
Such minds, where never envy's cloud appears,
See MADOC buoyant on the tide of years;
Float, like the song which left the mortal maze
For scenes" where Angels tremble while they gaze,"
And, touch'd alike by GENIUS' solar ray,
Vanquish oblivion and maintain the DAY.
* Asbestos, a substance which fire cannot consume.
✦ Paradise Lost, which from its publication in the author's lifetime, to ADDISON's applausive strictures upon it in the Spectator, met but very limited and partial notice from the public; while the equally beautiful Lycidas, Comus, L'Allegro, and Il Penseroso, were not known at all till seventy years after their first editions had ap peared.
On the Death of King George II. and the Accession of our present Sovereign *.
YE great, ye valiant, and ye wise!
Who fill the earthly tomb;
Death's fairest, richest sacrifice,
In Henry's holy dome!
Ye scepter'd Fathers of mankind,
Who rul'd your Albion and refin'd!
Her Kings, her Friends, who plann'd, who bled,
In Freedom's and Britannia's cause;
Who form'd the nation by your laws;
Ye mightiest of the dead!
Hark! o'er your heads-the tyrant there
Grim Death exulting stands.
And now your mansions, dark and drear,
He opes with giant hands.
While ghastly smiles the griesly Fiend,
hollow groans ascend-
Presages sad-your fears are just
His arm hath smote the British throne;
Reft of its Lord the regal crown
Lies sullied in the dust.
* Printed in the Oxford Collection, 1760.
The Monarch falls-in mournful state
He comes, the good and brave!
His life, his virtues, yield to fate;-
His glory to the grave.
Yet there be your obedience paid,
Ye Kings, to his superior shade:
For well he rul'd your favourite land;
And well suppress'd her haughty foes:
Her state to highest honours rose
Beneath his forming hand,
Lo, starting from the sable shroud,
The awful heroes rise!
Around his pale remains they crowd
With ever-gazing eyes.
But chief, from off her peaceful bed,
Great CAROLINA lifts her head,
Awaken'd by the solemn sound.—
But soon her Consort she descries;
And soon into his arms she flies;
And calls their offspring round.
Ah FREDERICK! he untimely fell
A victim to the grave.
Ah, who the bitter grief can tell
His fall untimely gave!
The monarch meets his godlike race
Ah, mock not death their fond embrace!
In peace ye holy spirits rest:
Princes who liv'd your Albion's pride,
By her ye much lamented died,
By her ye lov'd, carest.
Who now with fond paternal care
Shall guard her orphan state?
Who now amidst the rage of war
Maintain her free and great ?
Who but the Royal Youth, whose birth
Sprang from Britannia's parent earth?
Him best becomes Britannia's crown.
Blest Isle! to whom auspicious Heav'n,
Earnest of happy days! has given
A BRUNSWICK of her own.
IN Celia's face a question did arise,
Which were more beautiful, her lips or eyes?
"We," said the eyes "send forth those pointed darts
Which pierce the hardest adamantine hearts."
"From us," replied the lips, " proceed those blisses,
Which lovers reap by kind words and sweet kisses."
Then wept the eyes; and from their springs did pour
Of liquid oriental pearl a shower:
Whereat the lips, mov'd with delight and pleasure,
Through a sweet smile unlock'd their pearly treasure;
And bade Love judge, whether did add more grace,
Weeping or smiling pearls to Celia's face.
FROM THE ITALIAN OF FRACASTORO.
WITH the pale poppy's nodding flower
These sable violets I braid,
And for my fair who asks thine aid, Thy healing balm, O Sleep implore! For ah! her bright eyes fade by grief opprest, And thou alone, O Sleep, canst charm her cares to rest.
Soft soothing Sleep, secure relief
Of every labour, every grief;
Repose of all the peopled earth;
To thee, in Lethe's shades, gave birth
The Night, and 'taught thee how to bless
Mortals with long forgetfulness.
Thy wings of shadowy gloom diffuse
On all around their balmy dews,
And fan to peace and bland repose
The haggard family of woes.
Calm on old ocean's placid breast,
Thou sooth'st the finny train to rest;
And deep amidst the forest glade
Still'st the wild tenants of the shade;
All nature feels thy fostering care,
All own thy bounteous gifts-all but my drooping fair!
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