II. 3.

O nobleft, happiest age!

When Ariftides rul'd, and Cimon fought;
When all the generous fruits of Homer's page
Exulting Pindar faw to full perfection brought.
O Pindar, oft fhalt thou be hail'd of me :
Not that Apollo fed thee from his fhrine ;
Not that thy lips drank sweetness from the bee;
Nor yet that, ftudious of thy notes divine,

Pan danc'd their measure with the fylvan throng :
But that thy fong

Was proud to unfold

What thy base rulers trembled to behold;
Amid corrupted Thebes was proud to tell
The deeds of Athens and the Perfian fhame :
Hence on thy head their impious vengeance fell.
But thou, O faithful to thy fame,

The Mufe's law did'ft rightly know;
That who would animate his lays,

And other minds to virtue raise,

Muft feel his own with all her spirit glow.

III. I.

Are there, approv'd of later times,

Whofe verfe adorn'd a* tyrant's crimes?

Who faw majestic Rome betray'd,

And lent the imperial ruffian aid ?

Alas! not one polluted bard,

No, not the strains that Mincius heard,
Or Tibur's hills reply'd,

Dare to the Mufe's ear afpire;

Save that, inftructed by the Græcian lyre,

With freedom's ancient notes their shameful task they hide.
III. 2.

Mark, how the dread Pantheon stands,
Amid the domes of modern hands:

Amid the toys of idle state,

How fimply, how severely great!

Then turn, and, while each western clime
Prefents her tuneful fons to Time,

So mark thou Milton's name;

And add," Thus differs from the throng "The fpirit which inform'd thy awful fong,

"Which bade thy potent voice protect thy country's fame." III. 3.

Yet hence barbaric zeal

His memory with unholy rage pursues ;

While from these arduous cares of public weal
She bids each bard begone, and reft him with his Mufc.
O fool! to think the man, whofe ample mind
Muft grafp at all that yonder ftars furvey;
Muft join the nobleft forms of every kind,
The world's most perfect image to display,
Can e'er his country's majesty behold,

Unmov'd or cold!

B 2

O fool!

O fool! to deem

That He, whofe thought muft vifit every theme,
Whose heart must every strong emotion know
By nature planted, or by fortune taught ;
That He, if haply fome prefumptuous foe,
With falfe ignoble science fraught,
Shall spurn at freedom's faithful band;
That He their dear defence will fhun,
Or hide their glories from the fun,
Or deal their vengeance with a woman's handl
IV. I.

I care not that in Arno's plain,

Or on the sportive banks of Seine,

From public themes the Mufe's quire

Content with polish'd ease retire.

Where priests the ftudious head command,

Where tyrants bow the warlike hand
To vile ambition's aim,

Say, what can public themes afford,

Save venal honours to an hateful lord,

Referv'd for angry heaven and scorn'd of honest fame ?

IV. 2.

But here, where freedom's equal throne
To all her valiant fons is known;

Where all are conscious of her cares,

And each the power, that rules him, fhares;
Here let the bard, whose dastard tongue
Leaves public arguments unfung,

Bid public praise farewell:

Let him to fitter climes remove,

Far from the heroe's and the patriot's love,

And lull mysterious monks to flumber in their cell.
IV. 3.

O HASTINGS, not to all

Can ruling heav'n the fame endowments lend:
Yet ftill doth nature to her offspring call,

That to one general weal their different powers they bend,
Unenvious. Thus alone, though strains divine
Inform the bofom of the Muse's son ;

Though with new honours the patrician's line.
Advance from age to age; yet thus alone
They win the fuffrage of impartial fame.
The poet's name

He best fhall prove,

Whofe lays the foul with nobleft paffions move.
But thee, O progeny of heroes old,

Thee to feverer toils thy fate requires :

The fate which form'd thee in a chosen mould,

The grateful country of thy fires,
Thee to fublimer paths demand;
Sublimer than thy fires could trace,

Or thy own EDWARD teach his race,

Though Gaul's proud genius fank beneath his hand.

V. 1.

From rich domains and fubject farms,

They led the rustic youth to arms;

And kings their stern atchievements fear'd;
While private ftrife their banners rear'd. ̧
But loftier fcenes to thee are fhown,
Where empire's wide-establish'd throne
No private mafter fills :

Where, long foretold, The People reigns:

Where each a vaffal's humble heart disdains ;

And judgeth what he fees; and, as he judgeth, wills.

Here be it thine to calm and guide
The fwelling democratic tide;
To watch the ftate's uncertain frame,
And baffle faction's partial aim :

But chiefly, with determin'd zeal,

To quell that fervile band, who kneel

To freedom's banifh'd foes;

That monfter, which is daily found

Expert and bold thy country's peace to wound; Yet dreads to handle arms, nor manly counsel knows. V. 3.

"Tis higheft heaven's command,

That guilty aims fhould fordid paths pursue;

That what enfnares the heart fhould curb the hand,
And virtue's worthlefs foes be falfe to glory too.
But look on freedom. fee, through every age,
What labours, perils, griefs, hath she disdain'd!
What arms, what regal pride, what priestly rage,
Have her dread offspring conquer'd or fuftain'd!

7

For