From me, as from my country, wins applause,
And makes an Oxford's a Britannia's cause.

While arms like these my stedfaft fages wield,
While mine is truth's impenetrable fhield;
Say, fhall the puny champion fondly dare
Το wage with force like this, fcholaftic war?
Still vainly fcribble on with pert pretence,
With all the rage of pedant impotence?
Say, fhall I fuffer this domeftic pest,

This parricide that wounds a mother's breaft?
Thus in the ftately fhip that long has bore
Britain's victorious crofs from fhore to shore,
By chance, beneath her close fequefter'd cells,
Some low-born worm, a lurking mischief, dwells;
Eats his blind way, and faps with secret toil
The deep foundations of the watry pile.
In vain the foreft lent its ftatelieft pride,
Rear'd her tall maft, and fram'd her knotty fide;
In vain the thunder's martial rage she stood,
With each fierce conflict of the ftormy flood;
More fure the reptile's little arts devour,
Than waves, or wars, or Eurus' wintry pow'r.
Ye venerable bow'rs, ye feats fublime,
Clad in the moffy veft of fleeting time!
Ye ftately piles of old munificence,
At once the pride of learning and defence,
Where ancient piety, a matron hoar,
Still feems to keep the hofpitable door!
Ye cloisters pale, that length'ning to the fight,
Still fep by step to mufings mild invite!

6

Ye

Ye high-arch'd walks, where oft the bard has caught
The glowing sentiment the lofty thought!
Ye temples dim, where pious duty pays
Her holy hymns of ever-echoing praise !
Lo! your lov'd Ifis, from the bord'ring vale,
With all a mother's fondness bids you hail!
Hail, Oxford, hail! of all that's good and great,
Of all that's fair, the guardian and the feat ;
Nurse of each brave pursuit, each generous aim,
By truth exalted to the throne of fame!
Like Greece in science and in liberty,
As Athens learn'd, as Lacedæmon free!

Ev'n now, confess’d to my adoring eyes,
In awful ranks thy facred fons arise ;
With ev'ry various flower their temples wreath’d,
That in thy gardens green its fragrance breath'd.
Tuning to knightiy tale his British reeds,
Thy crouding bards immortal Chaucer leads:
His hoary head o'erlooks the gazing choir,
And heams on all around celestial fire;
With graceful step fee Addison advance,
The fweetest child of Attic elegance:
To all, but his belov'd embrace, deny'd,
See Locke leads reason, his majestic bride :
See sacred Hammond, as he treads the field,
With godlike arm uprears his heav'nly shield.

All who, beneath the shades of gentle peace,
Best plau’d the labours of domestic ease;
Who taught with truth, or with persuasion mov'd ;
Who footh'd with numbers, or with sense improv'd;

Who

Who told the pow'rs of reafon, or refin'd,
All, all that ftrengthen'd or adorn'd the mind;
Each priest of health, who mix'd the balmy bowl,
To rear frail man, and stay the fleeting foul;
All croud around, and echoing to the fky,
Hail, Oxford, hail! with filial transport cry.

And fee yon folemn band! with virtuous aim,
"Twas theirs in thought the glorious deed to frame :
With pious plans each musing feature glows,
And well weigh'd counfels mark their meaning brows:
"Lo! these the leaders of thy patriot line,"
Hamden, and Hooker, Hyde and Sidney shine.
Thefe from thy fource the fires of freedom caught:
How well thy fons by their example taught!
While in each breast th' hereditary flame
Still blazes, unextinguish'd and the fame!
Nor all the toils of thoughtful peace engage,
"Tis thine to form the hero as the fage.

I see the fable-suited prince advance

With lilies crown'd, the fpoils of bleeding France,
Edward-the mufes in yon hallow'd fhade
Bound on his tender thigh the martial blade:
Bade him the steel for British freedom draw,
And Oxford taught the deeds that Creffy faw.
And fee, great father of the laureat band,

*

The British king before me seems to stand.
He by my plenty-crown'd fcenes beguil'd,
And genial influence of my feafons mild,

Hither of yore (forlorn, forgotten maid)
The mufe in prattling infancy convey'd ;
From Gothic rage the helpless virgin bore,
And fix'd her cradle on my friendly shore:
Soon grew the maid beneath his foft'ring hand,
Soon pour'd her bleffings o'er th' enlighten'd land.
Tho' rude the dome, and humble the retreat,
Where firft his pious care ordain'd her feat,
Lo! now on high she dwells in Attic bow'rs,
And proudly lifts to heav'n her hundred tow'rs.
He first fair learning's and Britannia's caufe
Adorn'd with manners, and advanc'd with laws :
He bade relent the Briton's favage heart,
And form'd his foul to focial fcenes of art,
Wifest and best of kings!-with ravish'd
Elate the long proceffion he furveys :
Joyful he fmiles to find, that not in vain.
He plan'd the rudiments of learning's reigne
Himself he marks in each ingenuous breast,
With all the founder in the race exprest:
With rapture views fair freedom still survive
In yon bright domes (ill-fated fugitive!)
(Such feen, as when the goddess pour'd the beam
Unfullied on his ancient diadem)

Well-pleas'd that in his own Pierian feat

gaze

She plumes her wings, and rests her weary feet;
That here at last she takes her fav'rite stand,
"Here deigns to linger, ere fhe leave the land.”

Ad Capitolia ducit

Aurea nunc, olim fylveftribus horrida dumis. VIRG. EN.

NEW

IS country's hope, when now the blooming heir
Has left the parent's, or the guardian's care;

Fond to poffefs, yet eager to deftroy,

Of each vain youth, fay, what's the darling joy?
Of each fond frolic what the source and end,

His fole and first ambition what?—to spend.

Some 'fquires, to Gallia's cooks most dainty dupes, Melt manors in ragouts, or drown in soups: This coxcomb doats on fidlers, till he fees

His mortgag'd mountains defiitute of trees; Convinc'd too late, that modern ftrains can move, With mightier force than those of Greece, the grove. In headless ftatues rich, and ufelefs urns,

Marmoreo from the claffic tour returns ;

So poor the wretch of current coin, you'd laugh-
He cares not-if his * Cæfars be but fafe.
Some tread the flippery paths of love's delights,
These deal the cards, or shake the box at White's :
To different pleafures different taftes incline,
Nor the fame fea receives the rushing fwine.

* Antique medals.

Tho'