The passing pomp so dazzled from afar,
It seem'd a triumph, rather than a war. [grew,
Though wide the front, though gross the phalanx
It look'd less dreadful as it nearer grew.
The adverse host for action straight prepare ;
All eager to unveil the face of war.
[field,
Their chiefs lace on their helms, and take the
And to their trusty squire resign the shield. 230
To paint each knight, their ardour and alarms,
Would ask the Muse that sung the frogs in arins.
And now the signal summons to the fray;
Mock falchions flash, and paltry ensigns play.
Their patron god his silver bow-strings twangs;
Tough harness rustles, and bold armour clangs ;
The piercing caustics ply their spiteful power;
Emetics ranch, and keen cathartics scour;
The deadly drugs in double doses fly;
And pestles peal a martial symphony.
Now from their levell'd syringes they pour
The liquid volley of a missive shower.
Not storms of sleet, which o'er the Baltic drive,
Push'd on by northern gusts such horrour give.
Like spouts in southern seas the deluge broke,
And numbers sunk beneath th' impetuous stroke.
So when leviathans dispute the reign
And uncontrol'd dominion of the main ;
From the rent rocks whole coral groves are torn,
And isles of sea-weed on the waves are born; 250
Such watery stores from their spread nostrils fly,
'Tis doubtful which is sea, and which is sky.
And now the staggering braves, led by despair,
Advance, and to return the charge prepare.
Each seizes for his shield a spacious scale,
And the brass weights fly thick as showers of hail.
Whole heaps of warriors welter on the ground,
With gally-pots and broken phials crown'd;
Whilst empty jars the dire defeat resound.
Thus when some storm its crystal quarry rends,
And Jove in rattling showers of ice descends; [260
Mount Athos shakes the forests on his brow,
Whilst down his wounded sides fresh torrents
flow,
And leaves and limbs of trees o'erspread the
vale below.
But now, all order lost, promiscuous blows
Confus'dly fall; perplex'd the battle grows.
From Stentor's 3 arm a massy opiate flies,
And straight a deadly sleep clos'd Caru's eyes.
At Colon great Sertorius buckthorn flung, [stung;
Who with fierce gripes, like those of death, was
But with a dauntless and disdainful mien 271
Hurl'd back steel pills, and hit him on the spleen.
Chiron attack'd Talthibius with such might,
One pass had paunch'd the huge hydropic knight,
Who straight retreated to evade the wound,
But in a flood of apozem was drown'd.
This Psylas saw, and to the victor said,
"Thou shalt not long survive th' unwieldy dead,
Thy fate shall follow;" to confirm it, swore,
By th' image of Priapus, which he bore:
And rais'd an eagle stone, invoking loud
On Cynthia, leaning o'er a silver cloud:
"Great queen of night, and empress of the seas,
If faithful to thy midnight mysteries,
If still observant of my early vows,
These hands have eas'd the mourning matron's
Direct this rais'd avenging arm aright; [throws,
So may loud cymbals aid thy labouring light."
He said, and let the ponderous fragment fly
At Chiron, but learn'd Hermes put it by.
Though the haranguing god survey'd the war,
That day the Muse's sons were not his care;
Two friends, adepts, the Trismegists by name,
Alike their features, and alike their flame;
As simpling near fair Tweed each sung by turn,
The listening river would neglect his urn.
Those lives they fail'd to rescue by their skill,
Their Muse could make immortal with her quill;
But learn'd inquiries after natures state
Dissolv'd the league, and kindled a debate. 300
The one, for lofty labours fruitful known,
Fill'd magazines with volumes of his own.
At his once-favour'd friend a tome he threw,
That from its birth had slept unseen till now;
Stunn'd with the blow, the batter'd bard retir'd,
Sunk down, and in a simile expir'd.
And now the cohorts shake, the legions ply,
The yielding flanks confess the victory.
Stentor, undaunted still, with noble rage
Sprung through the battle, Querpo to engage. 310
Fierce was the onset, the dispute was great,
Both could not vanquish, neither would retreat;
Each combatant his adversary mauls,
With batter'd bed-pans, and stav'd urinals.
On Stentor's crest the useful chrystal breaks,
And tears of amber gutter'd down his cheeks:
But whilst the champion, as late rumours tell,
Design'd a sure decisive stroke, he fell :
And as the victor hovering o'er him stood,
With arms extended, thus the suppliant sued: 320
"When honour's lost, 't is a relief to die;
Death's but a sure retreat from infamy.
But, to the lost if pity might be shown,
Reflect on young Querpoïdes thy son;
Ver. 221. What Stentor offer'd was by most ap- Then pity mine, for such an infant grace
But several voices several methods mov'd.
At length th' adventurous heroes all agree
T' expect the foe, and act defensively.
Into the shop their bold battalions move,
And what their chief commands, the rest approve.
Down from the walls they tear the shelves in haste,
Which on their flank for palisades are plac'd;
And then behind the counter rang'd they stand,
Their front so well secur'd, t' obey command.
And now the scouts the adverse hosts descry,
Blue aprons in the air for colours fly:
With unresisted force they urge their way,
And find the foe embattled in array.
3 Dr. Goodall against Dr. Tyson. Dr. Birch.
Smiles in his eyes and flatters in his face.
If he was near compassion he 'd create,
Or else lament his wretched parent's fate.
Thine is the glory, and the field is thine;
To thee the lov'd Dispensary I resign."
At this the victors own such extasies,
As Memphian priests if their Osiris sneeze:
Or champions with Olympic clangour fir'd;
Or simpering prudes with sprightly Nantz inspir'd;
Or Sultans rais'd from dungeons to a crown;
Or fasting zealots when the sermon's done.
Awhile the chief the deadly stroke declin'd,
And found compassion pleading in his mind.
5 Dr. Gill against Dr. Ridley. 6 Dr. Chamberlain,
And more consult her doctrine than her power."
With that he drew a lancet in his rage,
To puncture the still supplicating sage.
But, while his thoughts that fatal stroke decree,
Apollo interpos'd in form of fee.
The chief great Pæan's golden tresses knew,
He own'd the god, and his rais'd arm withdrew.
Thus often at the Temple-stairs we 've seen,
Two Tritons of a rough athletic mien,
Sourly dispute some quarrel of the flood,
And with his heavenly guide the charge descends.
Thus Numa, when to hailow'd caves retir'd,
Was by Egeria guarded and inspir'd.
Within the chambers of the globe they spy
The beds where sleeping vegetables lie,
Till the glad summons of a genial ray
Unbinds the glebe, and calls them out to day.
Hence pancies trick themselves in various hue,
And hence jonquils derive their fragrant dew;
Hence the carnation and the bashful rose
Their virgin blushes to the morn disclose;
Hence the chaste lily rises to the light,
With knuckles bruis'd, and face besmear'd in Unveils her snowy breasts, and charms the sight;
But, at the first appearance of a fare,
Both quit the fray, and to their oars repair.
The hero so his enterprise recalls,
His fist unclenches, and the weapon falls.
Hence arbours are with twining greens array'd,
T'oblige complaining lovers with their shade;
360 And hence on Daphne's laurel'd forehead grow
Immortal wreaths for Phoebus and Nassau.
WHILE the shrill clangour of the battle rings,
Auspicious Health appeared on Zephyr's wings;
She seem'd a cherub most divinely bright,
More soft than air, more gay than morning-light.
A charm she takes from each excelling fair,
And borrows Carlisle's shape, and Grafton's air.
Her eyes like Ranelagh's their beams dispense,
With Churchill's bloom, and Berkeley's innocence;
On Iris thus the differing beams bestow
The dye, that paints the wonders of her bow;
From the fair nymph a vocal music falls,
As to Machaon thus the goddess calls: [shown,
"Enough, th' achievement of your arms you've
You seek a triumph you should blush to own.
"Haste to th' Elysian fields, those bless'd abodes,
Where Harvey sits among the demi-gods.
Consult that sacred sage, he 'll soon disclose
The method that must mollify these woes.
Let Celsus 8 for that enterprise prepare,
His conduct to the Shades shall be my care."
Aghast the heroes stood dissolv'd in fear,
A form so heavenly bright they could not bear;
Celsus, alone unmov'd, the sight beheld,
The rest in pale confusion left the field.
So when the pygmies, marshall'd on the plains,
Wage puny war, against th' invading cranes;
The puppets to their bodkin spears repair,
And scatter'd feathers flutter in the air;
But, when the bold imperial bird of Jove
Stoops on his sounding pinions from above,
Among the brakes the fairy nation crowds,
And the Strimonian squadron seeks the clouds.
The insects here their lingering trance survive:
Benumb'd they seem'd, and doubtful if alive.
From winter's fury hither they repair,
And stay for milder skies and softer air.
Down to these cells obscener reptiles creep,
Where hateful nutes and painted lizards sleep;
Where shivering snakes the summer solstice wait;
Unfurl their painted folds, and slide in state.
Here their new form the numb'd erucæ hide
Their numerous feet, in slender bandage ty'd:
Soon as the kindling ear begins to rise,
This upstart race their native clod despise,
And proud of painted wings attempt the skies. 70
Now those profounder regions they explore,
Where metals ripen in vast cakes of ore.
Here, sullen to the sight, at large is spread
The dull unwieldy mass of lumpish lead.
There, glimmering in their dawning beds, are seen
The light aspiring seeds of sprightly tin.
The copper sparkles next in ruddy streaks;
And in the gloom betrays its glowing cheeks.
The silver then, with bright and burnish'd grace,
Youth and a blooming lustre in its face,
To th' arms of those more yielding metals flies,
And in the folds of their embraces lies.
So close they cling, so stubbornly retire;
Their love's more violent than the chymist's fire.
Near these the delegate with wonder spies
Where floods of living silver serpentise;
Where richest metals their bright looks put on,
And golden streams through amber channels run;
Where light's gay god descends, to ripen gems,
And lend a lustre brighter than his beams. 90
Here he observes the subterranean cells,
Where wanton Nature sports in idle shells.
Some helicoeids, some conical appear:
These, mitres emulate, those turbans are.
Ver. 342. Faith stand unmov'd through Stilling- Here marcasites in various figure wait,
And Locke for mystery abandon sense.
7Those members of the college that observe a late statute, are called by the apothecaries Sig
netur men.
8 Dr. Bateman,
To ripen to a true metallic state:
'Till drops that from impending rocks descend
Their substance petrify, and progress end.
Nigh, livid seas of kindled sulphur flow,
And, whilst enrag'd, their fiery surges glow, 100
Convulsions in the labouring mountains rise,
And hurl their melted vitals to the skies.
He views with horrour next the noisy cave, Where with hoarse dins imprison'd tempests rave; Where clamorous hurricanes attempt their flight, Or, whirling in tumultuous eddies, fight. The warring winds unmov'd Hygeia heard, Brav'd their loud jars, but much for Celsus fear'd. Andromeda so, whilst her hero fought, Shook for his danger, but her own forgot.
110 And now the goddess with her charge descends, Whilst scarce one cheerful glimpse their steps befriends.
Here, his forsaken seat old Chaos keeps;
And, undisturb'd by form, in'silence sleeps;
A grisly wight, and hideous to the eye,
An awkward lump of shapeless anarchy.
With sordid age his features are defac'd;
His lands unpeopled, and his countries waste.
To these dark realms much learned lumber creeps,
There copious Morton safe in silence sleeps;
Where mushroom libels in oblivion lie,
And, soon as born, like other monsters, die.
Upon a couch of jet, in these abodes,
Dull Night, his melancholy consort, nods.
No ways and means their cabinet employ;
But their dark hours they waste in barren joy.
Nigh this recess, with terrour they survey
Where Death maintains his dread tyrannic sway.
In the close covert of a cypress grove,
Where goblins frisk, and airy spectres rove,
Yawns a dark cave, with awful horrour wide,
And there the monarch's triumphs are descry'd;
Confus'd, and wildly huddled to the eye,
The beggar's pouch and prince's purple lie;
Dim lamps with sickly rays scarce seem to glow;
Sighs heave in mournful moans, and tears o'erflow;
Restless Anxiety, forlorn Despair,
And all the faded family of Care;
Old mouldering urns, racks, daggers, and distress,
Make up the frightful horrour of the place. 140
Within its dreadful jaws those furies wait,
Which execute the harsh decrees of Fate.
Febris is first: the bag relentless hears
The virgin's sighs, and sees the infant's tears.
In her parch'd eye-balls fiery meteors reign;
And restless ferments revel in each vein.
Then Hydrops next appears amongst the
throng;
Bloated, and big, she slowly sails along.
But, like a miser, in excess she's poor,
And pines for thirst amidst her watery store. 150
Now loathsome Lepra, that offensive spright,
With foul eruptions stain'd, offends the sight;
Still deaf to beauty's soft persuading power;
Nor can bright Hebe's charms her bloom secure.
Whilst meagre Pthisis gives a silent blow,
Her strokes are sure, but her advances slow:
No loud alarms, nor fierce assanits, are shown;
She starves the fortress first, then takes the town.
Behind stood crowds of much inferior fame,
Too numerous to repeat, too foul to name;
The vassals of their monarch's tyranny,
Who, at his nod, on fatal errands fly.
Now Celsus, with his glorious guide, invades The silent region of the fleeting shades; Where rocks and rueful deserts are descry'd, And sullen Styx rolls down his lazy tide; Then shows the ferry-man the plant he bore, And claims his passage to the further shore. To whom the Stygian pilot, smiling, said, You need no passport to demand our aid.
Physicians never linger on this strand:
Old Charon's present still at their command.
Our awful monarch and his consort owe
To them the peopling of the realms below."
Then in his swarthy hand he grasp'd the oar,
Receiv'd his guests aboard, and shov❜d from shore.
Now, as the goddess and her charge prepare
To breathe the sweets of soft Elysian air,
Upon the left they spy a pensive shade,
Who on his bended arm had rais'd his head: 180
Pale grief sat heavy on his mournful look;
To whom, not unconcern'd, thus Celsus spoke:
"Tell me, thou much afflicted shade, why sighs Burst from your breast, and torrents from your eyes:
And who those mangled manes are, which show A sullen satisfaction at your woe?"
"Since," said the ghost," with pity you'll attend, Know, I'm Guâicum, once your firmest friend; And on this barren beach in discontent
Am doom'd to stay, till th' angry powers relent. 190
Those spectres, seam'd with scars, that threaten
The victims of my late ill-conduct are.
They vex with endless clamours my repose:
This wants his palate; that demands his nose:
And here they execute stern Pluto's will,
And ply me every moment with a pill.”
Then Celsus thus: "O much-lamented state!
How rigid is the sentence you relate!
Methinks I recollect your former air, [were!
But ah, how much you're chang'd from what you
Insipid as your late ptisans you lie,
201
That once were sprightlier far than Mercury.
At the sad tale you tell, the poppies weep,
And mourn their vegetable souls asleep;
The unctuous larix, and the healing pine,
Lament your fate in tears of turpentine.
But still the offspring of your brain shall prove
The grocer's care, and brave the rage of Jove:
When bonfires blaze, your vagrant works shall rise
In rockets, till they reach the wondering skies. 210
"If mortals e'er the Stygian powers could bend,
Entreaties to their awful seats I'd send.
But, since no human arts the Fates dissuade,
Direct me how to find bless'd Harvey's shade."
In vain th' unhappy ghost still urg'd his stay;
Then, rising from the ground, he show'd the way.
Nigh the dull shore a shapeless mountain stood,
That with a dreadful frown survey'd the flood.
Its fearful brow no lively greens put on;
No frisking goats bound o'er the ridgy stone. 220
To gain the summit the bright goddess try'd;
And Celsus follow'd, by degrees, his guide.
Th' ascent thus conquer'd, now they tower on high,
And taste th' indulgence of a milder sky.
Loose breezes on their airy pinions play,
Soft infant blossoms their chasté odours pay,
And roses blush their fragrant lives away.
Cool streams through flowery meadows gently
glide;
And, as they pass, their painted banks they chide,
These blissful plains no blights nor mildews fear,
The flowers ne'er fade, and shrubs are myrtles
The morn awakes the tulip from her bed; [here.
Ere noon in painted pride she decks her head,
Rob'd in rich dye she triumphs on the green,
And every flower does homage to their queen. 255
So, when bright Venus rises from the flood, Around in throngs the wondering Nereids crowd; The Tritons gaze, and tune each vocal shell, And every grace unsung, the waves conceal.
The delegate observes, with wondering eyes, 240 Ambrosial dews descend, and incense rise; Then hastens onward to the pensive grove, The silent mansion of disastrous love. Here Jealousy with jaundic'd looks appears, And broken slumbers, and fantastic fears. The widow'd turtle hangs her moulting wings, And to the woods in mournful murmurs sings. No winds but sighs there are, no floods but tears; Each conscious tree a tragic signal bears. Their wounded bark records some broken vow, And willow-garlands hang on every bough.
Olivia here in solitude he found,
Her down-cast eyes fix'd on the silent ground:
Her dress neglected, and unbound her hair,
She seem'd the dying image of despair.
How lately did this celebrated thing
Blaze in the box, and sparkle in the ring;
Till the green-sickness and love's force betray'd
To Death's remorseless arms th' unhappy maid!
All o'er confus'd the guilty lover stood,
The light forsook his eyes, his cheeks the blood;
An icy horrour shiver'd in his look,
As to the cold-complexion'd nymph he spoke: "Tell me, dear shade, from whence such anxious
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Thus to her late insulting lover said:
"When ladies listen not to loose desire,
You style our modesty our want of fire:
Smile or forbid, encourage or reprove,
You still find reasons to believe we love:
Vainly you think a liking we betray,
And never mean the peevish things we say.
Few are the fair-ones of Rufilla's make,
Unask'd she grants, uninjur'd she 'll forsake:
But several Cælias, several ages boast,
That like, where reason recommends the most.
Where heavenly truth and tenderness conspire,
Chaste passion may persuade us to desire."
"Your sex," he cry'd," as custom bids, behaves;
In forms the tyrant ties such haughty slaves.
To do nice conduct right, you nature wrong;
Impulses are but weak, where reason's strong.
Some want the courage; but how few the flame!
They like the thing, that startle at the name,
The lonely Phoenix, though profess'd a nun, 290
Warms into love, and kindles at the Sun;
Those tales of spicy urns and fragrant fires
Are but the emblems of her scorch'd desires."
Then, as he strove to clasp the fleeting fair,
His empty arms confess'd th' impassive air.
From his embrace th' unbody'd spectre flies,
And, as she mov'd, she chid him with her eyes.
They hasten now to that delightful plain,
Where the glad manes of the bless'd remain:
Where Harvey gathers simples, to bestow
Immortal youth on heroes' shades below.
Soon as the bright Hygeia was in view,
The venerable sage her presence knew:
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Hail, blooming goddess! thou propitious power,
Whose blessings mortals more than life implore!
With so much lustre your bright looks endear,
That cottages are courts where those appear.
Mankind, as you vouchsafe to smile or frown,
Finds ease in chains, or anguish in a crown. 310
"With just resentments and contempt you see
The foul dissensions of the faculty;
How your sad sickening art now hangs her head,
And, once a science, is become a trade.
Her sons ne'er rifle her mysterious store,
But study nature less, and lucre more.
Not so when Rome to th' Epidaurian rais'd
A temple, where devoted incense blaz'd.
Oft father Tiber views the lofty fire,
As the learn'd son is worshipp'd like the sire; 320
The sage with Romulus like honours claim;
The gift of life and laws were then the same.
"I show'd of old, how vital currents glide,
And the meanders of the refluent tide.
Then, Willis, why spontaneous actions here,
And whence involuntary motions there:
And how the spirits, by mechanic laws,
In wild careers tumultuous riots cause.
Nor would our Wharton, Bates, and Glisson, lie
In the abyss of blind obscurity.
230
But now such wondrous searches are forborn,
And Pæan's art is by divisions torn.
Then let your charge attend, and I'll explain
How her lost health your science may regain.
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Haste, and the matchless Atticus address, 335 From Heaven and great Nassau he has the mace. Th'oppress'd to his asylum still repair; Arts he supports, and learning is his care. He softens the harsh rigour of the laws, [claws; Blunts their keen edge, and grinds their harpy And graciously he casts a pitying eye On the sad state of virtuous poverty.. When'er he speaks, Heaven! how the listening Dwells on the melting music of his tongue! His arguments are emblems of his mien, Mild, but not fait, and forcing, though serene: And, when the power of eloquence he'd try, Here lightning strikes you; there soft breezes sigh. "To him you must your sickly state refer, Your charter claims him as your visiter. Your wounds he'll c'ose, and sovereignly restore Your science to the height it had before. [aim;
"Then Nassau's health shall be your glorious His life should be as lasting as his fame. Some princes' claiins from devastations spring; He condescends in pity to be king; And, when amidst his olives plac'd he stands, And governs more by candour than commands; Ev'n then not less a hero he appears, Than when his laurel-diadem he wears.
"Would Phoebus, or his Granville, but inspire Their sacred vehemence of poetic fire; To celebrate in song that god-like power, Which did the labouring universe restore: Fair Albion's cliffs would echo to the strain, And praise the arm that conquer'd, to regain The earth's repose, and empire o'er the main.
"Still may th' immortal man his cares repeat, To make bis blessings endless as they're great: Whilst malice and ingratitude confess 370 They've strove for ruin long without success. When, late, Jove's eagle from the pile shall rise To bear the victor to the boundless skies,
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ADDRESSED TO THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF
CLARE, AFTERWARDS DUKE OF NEWCASTLE.
Dryadem sylvas, saltusque sequamur
Intactos, tua, Mæcenas, haud mollia jussa. VIRG.
PREFACE.
THEY that have seen those two excellent poems of Cooper's-hill and Windsor-forest; the one by sir J. Denham, the other by Mr. Pope; will show a great deal of candour if they approve of this. It was written upon giving the name of Claremont to a villa now belonging to the Earl of Clare. The situation is so agreeable and surprising, that it inclines one to think some place of this nature put Ovid at first upon the story of Narcissus and Echo. It is probable he had observed some spring arising amongst woods and rocks, where echos were heard; and some flower bending over the stream, and by consequence reflected from it. After reading the story in the third book of the /Metamorphosis, it is obvious to object (as an ingenious friend has already done) that the renewing the charms of a nymph, of which Ovid had dispossess'd her,
-vox tantùm atque ossa supersunt,
is too great a violation of poetical authority. I dare say the gentleman who is meant, would have been well pleased to have found no faults. There are not many authors one can say the same of: experience shows us every day that there are writers who cannot bear a brother should succeed, and the only refuge from their indignation is by being inconsiderable; upon which reflection, this thing ought to have a pretence to their favour. They who would be more informed of what relates to the ancient Britons, and the Druids their priests, may consult Pliny, Ovid, and the other classic authors that have mentioned them.
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Let but his lordship write some poor lampoon, 15
He's Horac'd up in doggrel like his own:
Or, if to rant in tragic rage he yields,
False Fame cries--"Athens;" honest Truth-
"Moorfields."
Thus fool'd, he flounces on through floods of ink;
Flags with full-sail; and rises but to sink.
Some venal pens so prostitute the bays,
Their panegyrics lash; their satires praise.
So nauseously, and so unlike, they paint,
N's an Adonis; M-r, a saint.
Metius with those fam'd heroes is compar❜d.
That led in triumph Porus and Tallard.
But such a shameless Muse must laughter move
That aims to make Salmoneus vie with Jove.
To form great works, puts Fate itself to pain;
Ev'n Nature labours for a mighty man,
And, to perpetuate her hero's fame,
She strains no less a poet next to frame.
Rare as the hero's, is the poet's rage;
Churchills and Drydens rise but once an age.
With earthquakes towering Pindar's birth begun;
And an eclipse produc'd Alcmena's son.
The sire of gods o'er Phoebus cast a shade;
But, with a hero, well the world repaid.
No bard for bribes should prostitute his vein;
Nor dare to flatter where he should arraign.
To grant big Thraso valour, Phormio sense,
Should indignation give, at least offence.
I hate such mercenaries, and would try
From this reproach to rescue poetry.
Apollo's sons should scorn the servile art,
And to court-preachers leave the fulsome part.
"What then"--you'll say, "Müst no true sterling
Because impure allays some coin debase?" [pass,
Yes, praise, if justly offer'd, I'll allow;
And, when I meet with merit, scribble too. 50
The man who's honest, open, and a friend,
Glad to oblige, uneasy to offend;
Forgiving others, to himself severe;
Though earnest, easy; civil, yet sincere;
Who seldom but through great good-nature errs;
Detesting fraud as much as flatterers;
T is he my Muse's homage should receive;
If I could write, or Holles could forgive.
But pardon, learned youthy, that I decline
A name so lov'd by me, so lately thine.
When Pelham you resign'd, what could repair
A loss so great, unless Newcastle's heir?
Hydaspes, that the Asian plains divides,
From his bright urn in purest crystal glides;
But, when new-gathering streams enlarge his
course,
He's Indus uam'd, and rolls with mightier force;
In fabled floods of gold his current flows,
And wealth on nations, as he runs, bestows.
Direct me, Clare, to name some nobler Muse,
That for her theme thy late recess may choose; 70
Such bright descriptions shall the subject dress,
Such vary'd scenes, such pleasing images,
That swains shall leave their lawns, and nymphs
their bowers,
And quit Arcadia for a seat like yours.
But say, who shall attempt th' adventurous part
Where Nature borrows dress from Vanbrugh's art?
If, by Apollo taught, he touch the lyre,
Stones mount in columns, palaces aspire,
And rocks are animated with his fire.
'Tis he can paint in verse those rising hills, 80
Their gentle valleys, and their silver rills;
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