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Here are they plac'd, whose kind munificence
Made heaven-born Science raise her drooping head;
And on the labors of a future race
Entaild their just reward. Thou amonst these,
Good Seaton! whose well-judg'd benevolence
Fost'ring fair Genius, bade the poet's hand
Bring annual off'rings to his Maker's shrine,
Shalt find the generous care was not in vain.-
Here is that fav'rite band, whom mercy mild,
God's best-lov'd attribute, adorn'd; whose gate
Stood ever open to the stranger's call;
Who fed the hungry; to the thirsty lip
Reach'd out the friendly cup; whose care benign
From the rude blast secur’d the pilgrim's side i
Who heard the widow's tender tale, and shook
The galling shackle from the pris'ner's feet;
Who each endearing tie, each office knew
Of meek-eyed, heaven-descended Charity.
O Charity, thou nymph divinely fair!
Sweeter than those whom ancient poets bound
In amity's indissoluble chain,
The Graces ! how shall I essay to paint
Thy charms, celestial maid ! and in rude verse
Blazon those deeds thyself didst ne'er reveal ?
For theę nor rankling Envy can infect,
Nor Rarge transport, nor high o'erweening Pride
Puff up with vain conceit: ne'er didst thou smile
To see the sinner as a verdant tree
Spread his luxuriant branches o'er the stream;
While, like some blasted trunk, the righteous fall
Prostrate, for orn. When prophecies shall fail,
When tongues shall cease, when knowledge is no

more,
And this great day is come, thou by the throne
Shalt sit triumphant. Thither, lovely maid !
Bear me, O bear me on thy soaring wing,
And thro' the adamantine gates of heav'n
Conduct my steps, safe from the fiery gulf
And dark abyss, where Sin and Satan reign!

But can the Muse, her numbers all too weak,

Tell how that restless element of fire
Shall wage with seas and earth intestine war,
And deluge all creation? Whether (so
Some think) the comet, as thro' fields of air
Lawless he wanders, shall rush headlong on
Thwarting th' ecliptic, where th' unconscious earth
Rolls in her wonted course; whether the sun
With force centripetal into his orb
Attract her, long reluctant; or the caves,
Those dread volcanos, where engend'ring lie
Sulphureous minerals, from their dark abyss
Pour streams of liquid fire; while from above,
As erst on Sodom, Heaven's avenging hand
Rains fierce combustion. Where are now the works
Of art, the toil of ages ?-Where are now
Th' imperial cities, sepulchres, and domes,
Trophies and pillars ? Where is Egypt's boast,
Those lofty pyramids, which high in air
Rear'd their aspiring heads, to distant times
Of Memphian pride a lasting monument ?-
Tell me where Athens rais'd her towers ? where Thebes
Open'd her hundred portals ?-Tell me where
Stood sea-girt Albion ? where imperial Rome,
Propt by seven hills, sat like a sceptred queen,
And aw'd the tributary world to peace ?
Shew me the rampart which o'er many a hill,
Thro' many a valley, stretch'd its wide extent,
Rais'd by that mighty monarch to repel
The roving Tartar, when with insult rude
'Gainst Pekin's tow'rs he bent th' unerring bow.
But what is mimic art ? E'en Nature's works,
Seas, meadows, pastures, the meand'ring streams,
And everlasting hills, shall be no more.
No more shall Teneriff, cloud-piercing height !
O'erhang th' Atlantic surge; nor that fam'd cliff,
Thro' which the Persian steer'd with many a sail,
Throw to the Lemnian isle its evening shade
O'er half the wide Ægean.-Where are now
The Alps that confin'd with unnumber'd realms,
And from the Black Sea to the ocean stream

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Stretch'd their extended arms ? - Where's Ararat,
That hill on which the faithful patriarch's ark,
Which seven long months had voyag'd o'er its top,
First rested, when the earth with all her sons,
As now by streaming cataracts of fire,
Was whelm'd by mighty waters ?-All at once
Are vanish'd and dissolv'd; no trace remains,
No mark of vain distinction : heaven itself,
That azure vault, with all those radiant orbs,
Sinks in the universal ruin lost.
No more shall planets round their central sun
Move in harmonious dance; no more the moon
Hang out her silver lamp; and those fix'd stars,
Spangling the golden canopy of night,
Which oft the Tuscan with his optic glass
Call'd from their wondrous height, to read their

names

And magnitude, some winged minister
Shall quench ; and (surest sign that all on earth
Is lost) shall rend from heaven the mystic bow.

Such is that awful, that tremendous day,
Whose coming who shall tell ? For as a thief
Unheard, unseen, it steals with silent pace
Thro' night's dark gloom.--Perhaps as here I sit,
And rudely carol these incondite lays,
Soon shall the hand be check'd, and dumb the mouth
That lisps the falt'ring strain.-0 may it ne'er
Intrude unwelcome on an ill-spent hour;
But find me wrapt in meditations high,
Hymning my great Creator!

-“ Pow'r Supreme ! " O everlasting King ! to thee I kneel, " To thee I lift my voice. With fervent heat “ Melt, all ye elements! And thou, high heav'n, “ Shrink like a shrivell'd scroll ! But think, O Lord, “ Think on the best, the noblest of thy works ; « Think on thine own bright image ! Think on him “ Who died to save us from thy righteous wrath; “ And 'midst the wreck of worlds remember man!"

THE

RUINS OF ROME.

BY MR. DYER.

Aspice murorum moles, præruptaque saxa,

Obrutaque horrenti vasta theatra situ :
Hæc sunt Roma. Viden' velut ipsa cadavera tantæ
Urbis adhuc spirent imperiosa minas ?

Janus Vitalis,

EN
NOUGH of Grongar, and the shady dales

Of winding Towy, Merlin's fabled haunt,
I sung inglorious. Now the love of arts,
And what in metal or in stone remains
Of proud antiquity, thró' various realms
And various languages and ages fam'd,
Bears me remote, o'er Gallia's woody bounds,
O'er the cloud-piercing Alps remote; beyond
The Vale of Arno purpled with the vine,
Beyond the Umbrian and Etruscan hills,
To Latium's wide champaign, forlorn and waste,
Where yellow Tiber his neglected wave
Mournfully rolls. Yet once again, my Muse,
Yet once again, and soar a loftier flight;
Lo the resistless theme, imperial Rome.

Fall'n, fall'n, a silent heap; her heroes all
Sunk in their urns; behold the pride of pomp,
The throne of nations fallin ; obscur'd in dust;
Ev'n yet majestical: the solemn scene
Elates the soul, while now the rising sun
Flames on the ruins in the purer air
Tow'ring aloft, upon the glittring plain,

Like broken rocks, a vast circumference;
Rent palaces, crush'd columns, rifted moles,
Fanes rollid on fanes, and tombs on buried tombs.

Deep lies in dust the Theban obelisk,
Immense along the waste; minuter art,
Gliconian forms, or Phidian, subtly fair,
O'erwhelming; as the immense Leviathan
The finny brood, when near Ierne's shore
Out-stretch'd, unweildly, his island length appears,
Above the foamy flood. Globose and huge,
Grey-mould'ring temples swell, and wide o'ercast
The solitary landscape, hills and woods,
And boundless wilds; while the vine-mantled brows
The pendent goats unveil, regardless they
Of hourly peril, tho' the clefted domes
Tremble to every wind. The pilgrim oft
At dead of night, ’mid his orison hears
Aghast the voice of time, disparting tow'rs,
Tumbling all precipitate down-dash'd,
Rattling around, loud thund'ring to the Moon :
While murmurs sooth each awful interval
Of ever-falling waters; shrouded Nile, *
Eridanus, and Tiber with his twins,
And palmy Euphrates; they with dropping locks,
Hang o'er their urns, and mournfully among
The plaintive-echoing ruins pour their streams.

Yet here advent'rous in the sacred search Of ancient arts, the delicate of mind, Curious and modest, from all climes resort, Grateful society! with these I raise The toilsome step up the proud Palatin, Thro' spiry cypress groves, and tow'ring pine, Waving aloft o'er the big ruins brows, On num'rous arches rear'd: and frequent stopp'd, The sunk ground startles me with dreadful chasm, Breathing forth darkness from the vast profound

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. Fountains at Rome adorned with the statues of those rivers,

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