Each happy genius brings to light,
Conceal'd before in shades of night:
So diamonds from the gloomy mine,
Taught by the workmen's hand to shine,
On Cloe's iv'ry bosom blaze,
Or grace the crown with brilliant rays.
Merit obscure shall raise its head,
Tho' dark obstructing clouds o'erspread;
Heroes as yet unsung, shall fight
For slaves oppress'd, and injur'd right ;
And able statesmen prop the throne,
To Battle-Abbey Roll* unknown.
Sha Abbas, with supreme command,
In Persia reign'd, and bless'd the land;
A mighty prince, valiant and wise,
Expert, with sharp discerning eyes,
To find true virtue in disguise.
Hunting (it seems) was his delight,
His joy by day, his dream by night;
The sport of all the brave and bold
From Nimrod, who, in days of old,
Made men as well as beasts his prey,
To mightier George, whose milder sway
Glad happy crowds with pride obey.
In quest of his fierce savage foes
Before the sun the monarch rose,
A record kept in Battle-Abbey, which contained the names of the chief men that came over with the Conqueror.
The grisly lion to engage,
By baying dogs provok'd to rage;
In the close thicket to explore,
And push from thence the bristled boar ;
Or to pursue the flying deer
While deep-mouth'd hounds the valleys cheer,
And Echo from repeating hills
His heart with joy redoubled fills.
Under a rock's projecting shade
A shepherd boy his seat had made,
Happy as Croesus on his throne,
The riches of the world his own:
Content on mortals here below
Is all that Heaven can bestow.
His crook and scrip were by him laid,
Upon his oaten pipe he play'd;
His flocks securely couch'd around,
And seem'd to listen to the sound.
Returning from the chase one day,
The king by chance had lost his way:
Nor guards nor nobles now attend,
But one young lord, his bosom friend.
Now tir'd with labour, spent with heat,
They sought this pleasant cool retreat;
The boy leap'd active from his seat,
And, with a kind obliging grace,
Offer'd the king unknown his place.
The Persian monarch, who so late
Lord of the world, rul'd all in state,
On cloth of gold and tissue trod,
Whole nations trembling at his nod,
With diamonds and with rubies crown'd,
And girt with fawning slaves around,
Behold him now! his canopy
Th' impending rock, each shrub, each tree,
'That grew upon its shaggy brow,
To their great prince observant bow;
Yield, as in duty bound, their aid,
And bless him with a friendly shade,
On the bare flint he sits alone,
And, oh! would kings this truth but own,
The safer and the nobler throne!
But where do I digress? 'tis time
To check this arrogance of rhyme.
As the judicious monach view'd
The stripling's air, nor bold nor rude,
With native modesty subdu'd,
The blush that glow'd in all its pride,
Then trembled on his cheeks, and dy'd,
He grew inquisitive to trace
What soul dwelt in that lovely case;
To ev'ry question, serious, gay,
The youth reply'd without delay,
His answers for the most part right,
And taking, if not apposite;
Unstudy'd, unaffected sense
Mix'd with his native diffidence.
The king was charm'd with such a prize,
And stood with wonder in his eyes;
Commits his treasure to the care
Of the young lord; bids him not spare
For cost, or pains, t'enrich his breast
With all the learning of the East.
He bow'd, obey'd; well cloth'd, well fed,
And with his patron's children bred,
Still ev'ry day the youth improv'd,
By all admir'd, by all belov'd.
Now the first curling down began
To give the promise of a man ;
To court he's call'd, employ'd, and train'd,
In lower posts; yet still he gain'd
By candour, courtesy, and skill,
The subjects' love, the king's good-will.
Employ'd in greater matters now,
No flatteries, no bribes, could bow
His stubborn soul; true to his trust,
Firm, and inexorably just,
In judgment ripe, he soon became
A Walpole, or a Walsingham,
And wakeful for the public peace,
No dragon guards the Golden Fleece
With half that vigilance and care;
His busy eyes kenn'd ev'ry where;
In each dark scheme knew how to dive,
Tho' cunning dervises contrive
Their plots, disguis'd with shams and lies,
And cloak'd with real perjuries.
Now high in rank the peer is plac'd,
And Ali Beg with titles grac'd;
No bounds his master's bounties know,
His swelling coffers overflow,
And he is puzzled to bestow:
Perplex'd and studious to contrive
To whom, and how, not what to give,
His pious frauds conceal the name,
And skreen the modest man from shame.
Whoe'er would heav'nly treasures raise,
Must grant the boon, escape the praise.
But his immense and end ess gain
No private charities could drain :
On public wor s he fix'd his mind,
The zealous friend of human-kind.
Convenient inns on each great road
At his own proper costs endow'd,
To weary caravans afford
Refreshment both at bed and board.
From Thames, the Tiber, and the Rhine,
Nations remote with Ali dine;
In various tongues his bounty's blest,
While with surprise the stranger guest
Does here on unbought dainties feast.
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