And from the mountain's top of his exalted wit,

Saw it himself, and fhew'd us it.

But life did never to one man allow

Time to difcover worlds and conquer too;
Nor can fo. fhort a line fufficient be

To fathom the vast depths of Nature's fea:
The work he did we ought t' admire,
And were unjust if we should more require
From his few years, divided 'twixt th' excefs
Of low affliction and high happiness:
For who on things remote can fix his fight,
That's always in a triumph or a fight?

VI.

From you, great Champions! we expect to get
Thefe fpacious countries but difcover'd yet;
Countries where yet, instead of Nature, we
Her image and her idols worshipp'd fee:
Thefe large and wealthy regions to fubdue,
Tho' Learning has whole armies at command,
Quarter'd about in every land,

A better troop the ne'er together drew.
Methinks, like Gideon's little band,
God with design has pick'd out you,

To do thefe noble wonders by a few.

When the whole hoft he faw, They are, faid he, 120 Too many to o'ercome for me:

Not those many, whom he found
Idlely extended on the ground

To drink, with their dejected head,

125

The stream, just so as by their mouths it fled :
No, but thofe few who took the waters up,
And made of their laborious hands the cup.
VII.

take:

Thus you prepar'd, and in the glorious fight
Their wondrous pattern, too, you
Their old and empty pitchers first they brake,
And with their hands then lifted up the light.
Iö! found too the trumpets here!

Already your victorious lights appear;
New scenes of heav'n already we espy,

130

135

And crowds of golden worlds on high,

Which from the spacious plains of earth and fea
Could never yet difcover'd be

By failors' or Chaldeans' watchful eye.

Nature's great works no distance can obscure,
No fmallness her near objects can secure :

Ye 'ave taught the curious fight to press

Into the privatest recess

Of her imperceptible littleness:

Ye 'ave learn'd to read her smallest hand,

And well begun her deepest sense to understand.

VIU.

Mischief and true dishonour fall on those

Who would to laughter or to fcorn expose..

140

145

So virtuous and fo noble'a defign,

So human for its ufe, for knowledge to divine.

The things which thefe proud men despise, and call Impertinent, and vain, and small,

Those smallest things of Nature let me know,

Rather than all their greatest actions do.
Whoever would depofed Truth advance
Into the throne ufurp'd from it,
Muft feel at first the blows of Ignorance,
And the harp points of envious Wit.

155

So when, by various turns of the celeftial dance, 160 In many thousand years

A ftar, fo long unknown, appears,

Tho' heav'n itself more beauteous by it grow,

It troubles and alarms the world below,

Does to the wife a star, to fools a meteor, show. 165 ix.

With courage and success you the bold work begin; Your cradle has not idle been :

None e'er but Hercules and you could be

At five years age worthy a history :

And ne'er did Fortune better yet

Th' hiftorian to the story fit.

As you from all old errors free
And purge the body of Philofophy,
So from all modern follies hé

Has vindicated eloquence and wit:

His candid ftyle like a clean stream does lide,

170

175

And his bright fancy all the way
Does, like the funshine, in it play;

It does like Thames, the best of rivers! glide,
Where the god does not rudely overturn,

But gently pour, the crystal urn,

180

And with judicious hand does the whole current guide. It has all the beauties Nature can impart,

And all the comely drefs, without the paint, of Art. 184

ELEGIAC POEMS.

An elegy on the death of

JOHN LITTLETON, ESQ.

Son and heir to Sir Thomas Littleton, who was drowned
leaping into the water to fave his younger brother.
AND must thefe waters fmile again, and play
About the shore, as they did yesterday?

Will the fun court them still? and shall they show
No confcious wrinkle furrow'd on their brow,
That to the thirsty traveller may fay,

I am accurs'd, go turn fome other way?

It is unjuft; black Flood! thy guilt is more, Sprung from his loss, than all thy watry store Can give thee tears to mourn for birds fhall be, And beasts, henceforth, afraid to drink with thee.

:

What have I faid! my pious rage hath been
Too hot, and acts whilst it accuseth fin.
Thou 'rt innocent, I know, still clear and bright,
Fit whence fo pure a foul should take its flight.
How is our angry zeal confin'd! for he

Muft quarrel with his love and piety,

That would revenge his death Oh! I shall fin,
And with anon he had lefs virtuous been:

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