Can nature then, fuch fudden fhocks, fuftain?
Nature thus ftruck, all reafon pleads in vain!
Though late, from reafon yet he draws relief,
Dwells on her memory; but difpels his grief.
Love, wealth, and fame (tyrannic paffions all!)
No more enfia ne him, and no more enthral. 26
He feeks no more, in Rufus' hall, renown;
Nor envies Pelf the jargon of the gown;
But pleas'd with competence, on rural plains,
His wifdom courts that eafe his worth obtains. 30
Would private jars, which sudden rise, encreafe?
His candour fmiles all difcord info peace.
To party storms is public weal refign'd?
Each steady patriot-virtue fteers his mind.
Calm, on the beach, while maddening billows

rave,

35

40

He gains philofophy from every wave;
Science, from every obje&t round, he draws;
From various nature, and from nature's laws.
He lives o'er every paft historic age;
He calls forth ethics from the fabled page.
Him evangelic truth, to thought excites;
And him, by turns, each claffic Mufe delights.
With wit well-natur'd; wit, that would difdain
A pleasure rifing from another's pain;
Social to all, and moft of blifs poffeft,
When most he renders all, around him, bleft:
To unread 'fquires illiterately gay;
Among the learn'd, as learned full as they;
With the polite, all, all-accomplish'd cafe,
By nature form'd, without deceit, to pleafe.
Thus fhines thy youth; and thus my friend,
elate

45

50

In blifs as well as worth, is truly great.
Me ftill fhould ruthlefs fate, unjuft, expofe
Beneath thofe clouds, that rain unnumber'd
woes;

Me, to fome nobler sphere, should fortune raife,

To wealth confpicuous, and to laurel'd praise;
Unalter'd yet be love and friendship mine;
I ftill am Chloe's, and I ftill am thine.

LONDON AND BRISTOL

*DELINEATED.

TWO fea-port cities mark Britannia's fame,

55

And thefe from commerce different honours
claim.

What different honours fhall the Mufes pay,
While one infpires and one untunes the lay?
Now filver Ifis brightening flows along,
Echoing from Oxford shore each claffic fong;

5

*The auther preferr'd this title to that of London and Bristol compared; which, when he began the Piece, he intended to prefix to it,

VOL. Y.

Then weds with Tame; and thefe, O London, fee

Swelling with naval pride, the pride of thee! Wide, deep, unfullied Thames, meandering glides

And bears thy wealth on mild majestic tides. 10
Thy fips, with gilded palaces that vie,
In glittering pomp, ftrike wondering China's

eye;

21

And thence returning bear, in fplendid state,
To Britain's merchants, India's eastern freight.
India, her treafures from her weitern fhores, 15
Due at thy feet, a willing tribute pours;
Thy warring navies diftant nations awe,
And bid the world obey thy righteous law.
Thus frine thy manly fons of liberal mind;
Thy change deep-bufied, yet as courts refin'd;
Councils, like fenates, that enforce debate,
With fluent eloquence and reafon's weight.
Whofe patriot virtue, lawless power controls;
Their British emulating Roman fouls.
Of these the worthieft ftill felected ftand,
Still lead the fenate, and ftill fave the land:
Social, not felfifh, here, O Learning, trace
Thy friends, the lovers of all human race!
In a dark bottom funk, O Bristol now,
With native malice, lift thy lowering brow! 30
Then as fome hell-born fprite in mortal guise,
Borrows the shape of goodnefs and belies,
All fair, all fmug, to yon proud ball invite,
To feaft all strangers ape an air polite !

25

From Cambria drain'd, or England's western

To thee each franger owes an injur❜d name,
What fmiles thy ions muft in their foes excite!
Thy fons, to whom all difcord is delight;
From whom eternal mutual railing flows;
Who in cach other's crimes, their own expofe ;
Thy fons, though crafty, deaf to wifdom's call;
Defpifing all men, and defpis'd by all;
Sons, while thy clifts a ditch-like river laves, 55
Rude as thy rocks, and muddy as thy waves,
Of thoughts as narrow as of words immenfe,
As full of turbulence as void of fenfe?
Thee, thee, what fenatorial fouls adorn!
Thy natives fure would prove a fenate's fcorn, fo
Do frangers deign to ferve thee; what the
praife?

Their generous fervices thy murmurs raife.
What fiend malign, that o'er thy air prefides,
Around from breast to breast inherent glides,

Kk

By many a petty lord poffefs'd, But ne'er fince feated in one fingle breast! 'Tis you who must this land fubdue, The mighty conqueft's left for you, The conqueft and discovery too; Search out this Utopian ground, Virtue's Terra Incognita, Where none ever led the way,

A place where the merchants used to meet to tranfact their affairs before the Excharge was ere&ied. See Gentleman's Magazine, Vol. XIII. p. 496.'

Halliers are the perfors who drive or own the fledges, which are here used inflead of carts.

Nor ever fince but in defcriptions found,

Like the philofopher's ftone, With rules to fearch it, yet obtain❜d by none.

II.

We have too long been led aftray; Too long have our misguided fouls been taught With rules from musty morals brought, 'Tis you must put us in the way; Let us (for fhame!) no more be fed With antique reliques of the dead, The gleanings of philosophy, Philofophy, the lumber of the fchools, The roguery of alchemy;

And we, the bubbled fools,

Spend all our prefent life in hopes of golden rules.

III.

But what does our proud ignorance Learning call?

We oddly Plato's paradox make good,
Our knowledge is but mere remembrance all;
Remembrance is our treafure and our
food;

Nature's fair table-book, our tender fouls,
We fcrawl all o'er with old and empty rules,
Stale memorandums of the fchools:
For Learning's mighty treasures look
In that deep grave a book;

Think that the there does all her treasures hide, And that her troubled ghoft ftill haunts there fince e dy'd.

Confine her walks to colleges and fchools;

Her priests, her train, and followers fhew As if they all were spectres too! They purchase knowledge at th' expence Of common breeding, common fenfe, And grow at once scholars and fools; Affe&t ill-manner'd pedantry, Rudeness, ill-nature, incivility,

And, fick with dregs of knowledge grown, Which greedily they fwallow down, Stilaft it up, and naufeate company.

Only the laurel got by peace

No thunder e'er can blaft:

Th' artillery of the fies

Shoots to the earth, and dies;

Nor ever green and flourishing 't will last, Nor dipt in blood, nor widows' tears, nor or phans' cries.

About the head crown'd with thefe bays,
Like lambent Bre the lighting plays;

Nor, its triumphal cavalcade to grace,

Makes up its folemn traje with death;

It melts the fword of war, yet keeps it in the fheath.

VII.

The wily fhifts of ftate, thofe jugglers' tricks, Which we call deep defigns and politicks (As in a theatre the ignorant fry,

Because the cords efcape their eye,
Wonder to fee the motions fly);

Methinks, when you expose the scene,
Down the ill-organ'd engines fall;

Off fly the vizards, and difcover all :

How plain I fee through the deceit !

How fhallow, and how grofs, the cheat!

Look where the pully's tied above!
Great God! (faid I) what have I feen!
On what poor engines move

The thoughts of monarchs, and defigns of states!
What petty motives rule their fates!

How the moufe makes the mighty mountain

fake!

The mighty mountain labours with its birth,
Away the frighten❜d peasants fly,
Scar'd at th' unheard-of prodigy,
Expect fome great gigantic fon of earth;
Lo! it appears!

See how they tremble! how they quake! Out starts the little beaft, and mocks then idle fears.

VIII.

Then tell, dear favourite Mufe!.

What ferpent's that which still reforts, Still lurks in palaces and courts?

Take thy unwonted flight,

IX.

Sing, belov'd Mufe! the pleasures of retreat,
And in fome untouch'd virgin ftrain
Shew the delights thy fifter Nature yields;
Sing of thy vales, fing of thy woods, fing of
thy felds;

Go publish o'er the plain
How mighty a profelyte you gain!
How noble a reprifal on the great!

How is the Mufe luxuriant grown!
Whene'er fhe takes this flight,
She foars clear out of fight.

Thefe are the paradifes of her own!
(The Pegafus, like an unruly horse,
Though ne'er fo gently-led-

To the lov'd pafture where he us❜d to feed,
Runs violently o'er his ufual courfe,)

Wake from thy wanton dr ams,

II

Come from thy dear-lov'd ftreams,
The crooked paths of wandering Thames!
Fain the fair nymph would stay,
Oft' the looks back in vain,
Oft' 'gainst her fountain does complain,

And foftly fteals in many windings down, As loth to fee the hated court and town, And murmurs as the glides away.

X.

In this new happy feene

Are nobler fubjects for

your learned

Here we expect from you

pen;

XI.

Shall I believe a spirit fo divine

Was caft in the fame mould with mi
Why then does Nature fo unjustly share
Among her elder fons the whole eflate,
And all her jewels and her plate?
Poor we! cadets of Heaven, not worth her
Take up at beft with lumber and the leaving
a fare:

Some the binds 'prentice to the spade,
Some to the drudgery of a trade,
Some fe does to Egyptian bordage draw,
Bids us make bricks, yet fends us to look out
ftraw:

Some the condemns for life to try
To dig the leaden mines of deep philofophy:
Me he has to the Mufe's gallies tied,
In vain I strive to cross this fpacious main,
In vain I tug and pull the car,
...And, when I almost reach the shore,
Straight the Mufe turns the helm, and I launch
out again :

And yet to feed my pride, Whene'er I mourn, ftops my complaining breath, With promife of a mad reverfion after death.

XII.

More than your predecessor Adam knew; Whatever moves our wonder, or our sport, Whatever ferves for innocent emblems of the

court;

How that which we a kernel fee (Whofe well-compacted forms efcape the light, Unpiere'd by the blunt rays of fight)

Shall ere long grow into a tree; Whence takes it its increafe, and whence its birth. Or from the fun, or from the air, or from the earth,

Where all the fruitful atoms lie;

How fome go downward to the root, Some more ambitiously upwards fly, And form the leaves, the branches, and the fruit. You ftrove to cultivate a barren court in vain, Your garden's better worth your noble pain, Here mankind fell, and hence muft rife again.

Had you by dull fucceffion gain'd your crown
(Cowards are Monarchs by that title made),
Part of your merit Chance would call her own.
And half your virtues had been loft in fhade.
But now your worth its juft reward fhall have:
What trophies and what triumphs are your due;
Who could fo well a dying nation fave,

At once deferve a crown, and gain it too!
You faw how near we were to ruin brought,
You faw th' impetuous torrent rolling on;
And timely on the coming danger thought,

Which we could neither obviate, nor fhun. Britannia ftript from her fole guard the laws,

Ready to fall Rome's bloody facrifice; You straight stept in, and from the monster's jaws Did bravely fnatch the lovely, helpless prize. Nor this is all; as glorious is the care

To preferve conquefts, as at first to gain : In this your virtue claims a double fhare, Which what it bravely won, does well maintain.

Your arm has now your rightful title fhow'd,

An arm on which all Europe's hopes depend, To which they look as to fome guardian God, That muft their doubtful liberty defend. Amaz'd, thy action at the Boyne we fee!

When Schomberg farted at the vast defign: The boundless glory all redounds to thee, Th' impulfe, the fight, th' event, were wholly thine.

The brave attempt does all our foc difarm;

You need but now give orders and command, Your name fhall the remaining work perform, And fpare the labour of your conquering hand. France does in vain her feeble arts apply,

To interrupt the fortune of your course: Your intiuence does the vain attacks defy

Of fecret malice, or of open force. Boldly we hence the brave commencement date Of glorious deeds, that must all tongues employ:

Wilm's the pledge and earneft given by Fate of ngland's glory, and her lafting joy.

When Learning's little houfhold did embark
With her world's fruitful fyftem in her facred ark,
At the first ebb of noife and fears,
Philofophy's exalted head appears ;

And the Dove-Mufe will now no longer ftay,
But plumes her filver wings and flies away;
And now a laurel wreath fhe brings from far,-
To crown the happy conqueror,

To fhew the flood begins to ceafe,

And brings the dear reward of victory and peace. II.

The eager Mufe took wing upon the waves' de

cline.

When War her cloudy afpect juft withdrew, And for a while in heavenly contemplation fat When the bright fun of Peace began to fhine,

On the high top of peaceful Ararat ;

And pluck'd a laurel branch (for laurel was the frft that grew,

The firft of plants after the thunder, storm, and rain);

And thence, with joyful nimble wing,
Flew dutifully back again,

And made an humble chaplet for the King.
And the Dove-Mufe is Red once more

(Glad of the victory, yet frighten'd at the war); And now difcovers from afar

A peaceful and a flourishing shore;
No fooner did the land

On the delightful strand,

Than ftraight the fees the country all around,
Where fatal Neptune rul'd erewhile,

Scatter'd with flowery vales, with fruitful gardens crown'd,

And many a pleasant wood!

As if the univerfal Nile

Had rather water'd it than drown'd:
It seems fome floating piece of paradife,

Preferv'd by wonder from the flood,

Long wandering through the deep, as we are told
Fam'd Delos did of old,

And the tranfported Mufe imagin'd it
To be a fitter birth-place for the God of wit,
Or the much-talk'd oracular grove;
When with amazing joy the hears

An unknown mufick all around

Charming her greedy ears

With many a heavenly fong

Of nature and of art, of deep philofophy and love,

Whilft angels tune the voice, and God infpires