Whom Fancy chills with visionary fears,

O! teach me to reveal the graceful charm Or bends to servile tameness with conceits

That searchless Nature o'er the sense of man of shame, of evil, or of base defect,

Diffuses, to behold, in lifeless things, Fantastic and delusive. Here the slave

The inexpressive semblance of himself, Who droops abash'd when sullen Pomp surveys Of thought and passion. Mark the sable woods His humbler habit; here the trembling wretch That shade sublime yon mountain's nodding brow; Unnerv'd and struck with Terror's icy bolts, With what religious awe the solemn scene Spent in weak wailings, drown'd in shameful tears, Commands your steps ! as if the reverend form At every dream of danger; here subdued

Of Minos or of Numa should forsake By frontless Laughter, and the hardy scorn The Elysian seats, and down the embowering glade of old, unfeeling Vice, the abject soul,

Move to your pausing eye! Behold the expanse Who blushing half resigns the candid praise Of yon gay landscape, where the silver clouds Of Temperance and Honor ; half disowns

Flit o'er the heavens before the sprightly breeze : A freeman's hatred of tyrannic pride ;

Now their grey cincture skirts the doubtful Sun; And hears with sickly smiles the venal mouth Now streams of splendor, through their opening veil With foulest license mock the patriot's name. Effulgent, sweep from off the gilded lawn

Last of the motley bands on whom the power The aërial shadows; on the curling brook, Of gay Derision bends her hostile aim,

And on the shady margin's quivering leaves Is that where shameful Ignorance presides. With quickest lustre glancing; while you view Beneath her sordid banners, lo! they march, The prospect, say, within your cheerful breast Like blind and lame. Whate'er their doubtful hands Plays not the lively sense of winning mirth Attempt, Confusion straight appears behind, With clouds and sun-shine chequer'd, while the round And troubles all the work. Through many a maze, of social converse, to the inspiring tongue Perplex'd they struggle, changing every path, Of some gay nymph amid her subject train, O'erturning every purpose; then at last

Moves all obsequious ? Whence is this effect, Sit down dismay'd, and leave the entangled scene This kindred power of such discordant things? For Scorn to sport with. Such then is the abode Or flows their semblance from that mystic tone Of Folly in the mind; and such the shapes To which the new-born mind's harmonious powers In which she governs her obsequious train. At first were strung? Or rather from the links

Through every scene of ridicule in things Which artful custom twines around her frame ? To lead the tenor of my devious lay;

For when the different images of things, Through every swift occasion, which the hand By chance combin'd, have struck the attentive soul Of Laughter points at, when the mirthful sting With deeper impulse, or, connected long, Distends her sallying nerves and chokes her tongue; Have drawn her frequent eye; howe'er distinct What were it but to count each crystal drop The external scenes, yet oft the ideas gain Which Morning's dewy fingers on the blooms From that conjunction an eternal tie, Of May distil ? Suffice it to have said,

And sympathy unbroken. Let the mind Where'er the power of Ridicule displays

Recall one partner of the various league, Her quaint-ey'd visage, some incongruous form, Immediate, lo! the firm confederates rise, Some stubborn dissonance of things combin'd, And each his former station straight resumes : Strikes on the quick observer: whether Pomp, One movement governs the consenting throng, Or Praise, or Beauty, mix their partial claim And all at once with rosy pleasures shine, Where sordid fashions, where ignoble deeds, Or all are sadden'd with the glooms of care. Where foul deformity, are wont to dwell;

'Twas thus, if ancient Fame the truth unfold, Or whether these with violation loth'd,

Two faithful needles, from the informing touch Invade resplendent Pomp's imperious mien, Of the same parent-stone, together drew The charms of Beauty, or the boast of Praise. Its mystic virtue, and at first conspir'd

Ask we for what fair end, the Almighty Sire With fatal impulse quivering to the Pole : In mortal bosoms wakes this gay contempt,

Then, though disjoin'd by kingdoms, though the main These grateful stings of laughter, from disgust Rolld its broad surge betwixt, and different stars Educing pleasure? Wherefore, but to aid

Beheld their wakeful motions, yet preservd The tardy steps of Reason, and at once

The former friendship, and remember'd still By this prompt impulse urge us to depress The alliance of their birth : whate'er the line The giddy aims of Folly? Though the light Which once possess'd, nor pause, nor quiet knew Of Truth, slow dawning on the inquiring mind, The sure associate, ere with trembling speed At length unfolds, through many a subtle tie, He found its path, and fix'd unerring there. How these uncouth disorders end at last

Such is the secret union, when we feel In public evil! yet benignant Heaven,

A song, a flower, a name, at once restore Conscious how dim the dawn of Truth appears Those long-connected scenes where first they mov'd To thousands; conscious what a scanty pauso The attention : backward through her mazy walks From labors and from care, the wider lot

Guiding the wanton Fancy to her scope, Of humble life affords for studious thought To temples, courts, or fields; with all the band To scan the maze of Nature; therefore stamp'd of painted forms, of passions and designs The glaring scenes with characters of scorn, Attendant: whence, if pleasing in itself, As broad as obvious, to the passing clown, The prospect from that sweet accession gains As to the letter'd sage's curious eye.

Redoubled influence o'er the listening mind. Such are the various aspects of the mind

By these mysterious ties the busy power Some heavenly genius, whose unclouded thoughts of Memory her ideal train preserves Attain that secret harmony which blends

Entire; or when they would elude her watch, The ethereal spirit with its mould of clay ; Reclaims their feeling footsteps from the waste

Of dark oblivion ; thus collecting all

And feature after feature, we refer The various forms of being to present,

To that sublime exeniplar whence it stole Before the curious aim of mimic Art,

Those animating charms. Thus beauty's palm Their largest choice: like Spring's unfolded blooms Betwixt them wavering hangs : applauding love Exhaling sweetness, that the skilful bee

Doubts where to choose ; and mortal man aspires May taste al will, from their selected spoils To tempt creative praise. As when a cloud To work her dulcet food. For not the expanse Of gathering hail, with limpid crusts of ice of living lakes in Summer's noontide calm, Inclos'd and obvious to the beaming Sun, Reflects the bordering shade, and sun-bright heavens, Collects his large effulgence; straight the Heavens With fairer semblance; not the sculptur'd gold With equal flames present on either hand More faithful keeps the graver's lively trace, The radiant visage : Persia stands at gaze, Than he, whose birth the sister powers of Art Appallid; and on the brink of Ganges doubts Propitious view'd, and from his genial star The snowy-vested seer, in Mithra's name, Shed influence to the seeds of fancy kind; To which the fragrance of the south shall burn, Than his attemper'd bosom must preserve

To which his warbled orisons ascend. The seal of Nature. There alone unchang'd, Such various bliss the well-tun'd heart enjoys, Her form remains. The balmy walks of May Favor'd of Heaven! while, plung'd in sordid cares There breathe perennial sweets: the trembling chord The unfeeling vulgar mocks the boon divine : Resounds for ever in the abstracted ear,

And harsh Austerity, from whose rebuke Melodious : and the virgin's radiant eye,

Young Love and smiling Wonder shrink away Superior to disease, to grief, and time,

A bash'd, and chill of heart, with sager frowns Shines with un'bating lustre. Thus at length Condemns the fair enchantment. On my strain, Endow'd with all that Nature can bestow,

Perhaps even now, some cold fastidious judge The child of Fancy oft in silence bends

Casts a disdainful eye; and calls my toil, O'er these mixt treasures of his pregnant breast, And calls the love and beauty which I sing, With conscious pride. From them he oft resolves The dream of folly. Thou, grave censor! say, To frame he knows not what excelling things; Is Beauty then a dream, because the glooms And win he knows not what sublime reward of dullness hang too heavy on thy sense, of praise and wonder. By degrees, the mind To let her shine upon thee? So the man Feels her young nerves dilate: the plastic powers Whose eye ne'er opend on the light of Heaven, Labor for action : blind emotions heave

Might smile with scorn while raptur’d vision tells His bosom, and with loveliest frenzy caught, Of the gay-color'd radiance flushing bright From Earth to Heaven he rolls his daring eye, O'er all creation. From the wise be far From Heaven to Earth. Anon ten thousand shapes, Such gross unhallow'd pride ; nor needs my song Like spectres trooping to the wizard's call,

Descend so low; but rather now unfold, Flit swift before him. From the womb of Earth, If human thought could reach, or words unfold, From Ocean's bed, they come; the eternal Heavens By what mysterious fabric of the mind, Disclose their splendors, and the dark Abyss The deep-felt joys and harmony of sound Pours out her births unknown. With fixed gaze Result from airy motion ; and from shape He marks the rising phantoms. Now compares The lovely phantoms of sublime and fair. Their different forms; now blends them, now di- By what fine ties hath God connected things vides,

When present in the mind, which in themselves Enlarges, and extenuates by turns ;

Have no connexion ? Sure the rising Sun Opposes, ranges in fantastic bands,

O'er the cerulean convex of the sea, And infinitely varies. Hither now,

With equal brightness and with equal warmth Now thither fluctuates his inconstant aim,

Might roll his fiery orb; nor yet the soul With endless choice perplex'd. At length his plan Thus feel her frame expanded, and her powers Begins to open. Lucid order dawns;

Exulting in the splendor she beholds; And as from Chaos old the jarring seeds

Like a young conqueror moving through the pomp Of Nature at the voice divine repair'd

of some triumphal day. When join'd at eve, Each to its place, till rosy Earth unveild

Soft murmuring streams and gales of gentlest breath Her fragrant bosom, and the joyful Sun

Melodious Philomela's wakeful strain Sprung up the blue serene ; by swift degrees Attemper, could not man's discerning ear Thus disentangled, his entire design

Through all its tones the sympathy pursue; Emerges. Colors mingle, features join;

Nor yet this breath divine of nameless joy And lines converge: the fainter parts retire; Steal through his veins, and fan the awaken'd heart, The fairer eminent in light advance;

Mild as the breeze, yet rapturous as the song! And every image on its neighbor smiles.

But were not Nature still endow'd at large Awhile he stands, and with a father's joy

With all which life requires, though unadorn'd Contemplates. Then with Promethean art,

With such enchantment: wherefore then her form Into ils proper vehicle he breathes

So exquisitely fair? her breath perfum'd The fair conception; which, embodied thus, With such ethereal sweetness? whence her voice And permanent, becomes to eyes or ears

Inform'd at will to raise or to repress An object ascertain'd; while thus inform’d,

The impassion'd soul? and whence the robes of light The various organs of his mimic skill,

Which thus invest her with more lovely pomp The consonance of sounds, the featur'd rock, Than fancy can describe ? Whence but from thee, The shadowy picture and impassion'd verse, O source divine of ever-flowing love, Beyond their proper powers attract the soul And thy unmeasur'd goodness ? Not content By that expressive semblance, while in sight With every food of life to nourishi man, Of Nature's great original we scan

By kind illusions of the wondering sense The lively child of Art; while line by line, Thou mak'st all nature beauty to his eye,

Or music to his ear: well-pleas'd he scans Consenting Zephyr sighs; the weeping rill
The goodly prospect; and with inward smiles Joins in his plaint, melodious; mute the groves;
Treads the gay verdure of the painted plain ; And hill and dale with all their echoes mourn.
Beholds the azure canopy of Heaven,

Such and so various are the tastes of men.
And living lamps that over-arch his head

Oh! blest of Heaven, whom not the languid songs With more than regal splendor; bends his ears Of Luxury, the syren! not the bribes To the full choir of water, air, and earth;

of sordid Wealth, nor all the gaudy spoils Nor heeds the pleasing error of his thought, of pageant Homer, can seduce to leave Nor doubts the painted green or azure arch, Those ever-blooining sweets, which from the store Nor questions more the music's mingling sounds of Nature fair Imagination culls Than space, or motion, or eternal time;

To charm the enliven'd soul! What though not all So sweet he feels their influence to attract

Of mortal offspring can attain the heights The fixed soul; to brighten the dull glooms of envied life; though only few possess Of care, and make the destin'd road of life

Patrician treasures or imperial state ;
Delightful to his feet. So fables tell,

Yet Nature's care, to all her children just,
The adventurous hero, bound on hard exploits, With richer treasures and an ampler state,
Beholds with glad surprise, by secret spells Endows at large whatever happy man
Of some kind sage, the patron of his toils,

Will deign to use them. His the city's pomp,
A visionary paradise disclos'd

The rural honors his. Whate'er adornis Amid the dubious wild : with streams, and shades, The princely dome, the column and the arch, And airy songs, the enchanted landscape smiles, The breathing marbles and the sculptur'd gold, Cheers his long labors, and renews his frame. Beyond the proud possessor's narrow claim,

What then is taste, but these internal powers His tuneful breast enjoys. For him, the spring Active, and strong, and feelingly alive

Distils her dews, and from the silken gem To each fine impulse ? a discerning sense

Its lucid leaves unfolds : for him, the hand Of decent and sublime, with quick disgust Of Autumn tinges every fertile branch From things deform’d, or disarrang'd, or gross With blooming gold, and blushes like the morn. In species? This, nor gems, nor stores of gold, Each passing hour sheds tribute from her wings; Nor purple state, nor culture can bestow;

And still new beauties meet his lonely walk, But God alone when first his active hand

And loves unfelt attract him. Not a breeze Imprints the secret bias of the soul.

Flies o'er the meadow, not a cloud imbibes He, mighty parent! wise and just in all,

The setting Sun's effulgence, not a strain Free as the vital breeze or light of Heaven, From all the tenants of the warbling shade Reveals the charms of Nature. Ask the swain Ascends, but whence his bosom can partake Who journeys homeward from a summer day's Fresh pleasure, unreprov’d. Nor thence partakes Long labor, why, forgetful of his toils

Fresh pleasure only: for the attentive mind, And due repose, he loiters to behold

By this harmonious action on her powers,
The sun-shine gleaming as through amber clouds, Becomes herself harmonious: wont so oft
O'er all the western sky; full soon, I ween, In outward things to meditate the charm
His rude expression and untutor'd airs,

Of sacred order, soon she seeks at home
Beyond the power of language, will unfold To find a kindred order, to exert
The form of beauty smiling at his heart,

Within herself this elegance of love.
How lovely! how commanding! But though Heaven This fair inspir'd delight: her temper'd powers
In every breast hath sown these early seeds Refine at length, and every passion wears
Of love and admiration, yet in vain,

A chaster, milder, more attractive mien.
Without fair Culture's kind parental aid,

But if to ampler prospects, if to gaze
Without enlivening suns, and genial showers, On Nature's form, where, negligent of all
And shelter from the blast, in vain we hope These lesser graces, she assumes the port
The tender plant should rear its blooming head, Of that eternal majesty that weigh'd
Or yield the harvest promis d in its spring. The world's foundations, if to these the mind
Nor yet will every soil with equal stores

Exalts her daring eye; then mightier far
Repay the tiller's labor; or attend

Will be the change, and nobler. Would the forms His will, obsequious, whether to produce

Of servile custom cramp her generous powers? The olive or the laurel. Different minds

Would sordid policies, the barbarous growth Incline to different objects: one pursues

of ignorance and rapine, bow her down The vast alone, the wonderful, the wild ;

To tame pursuits, to indolence and fear? Another sighs for harmony, and grace,

Lo! she appeals to Nature, to the winds And gentlest beauty. Hence when lightning fires And rolling waves, the Sun's unwearied course, The arch of Heaven, and thunders rock the ground, The elements and seasons : all declare When furious whirlwinds rend the howling air, For what the eternal Maker has ordain'd And Ocean, groaning from his lowest bed,

The powers of man: we feel within ourselves Heaves his tempestuous billows to the sky; His energy divine: he tells the heart, Amid the mighty uproar, while below

He meant, he made us to behold and love The nations tremble, Shakspeare looks abroad What he beholds and loves, the general orb From some high cliff, superior, and enjoys

of life and being; to be great like him, The eleniental war. But Waller longs,

Beneficent and active. Thus the men All on the margin of some flowery stream, Whom Nature's works can charm, with God himself To spread his careless limbs amid the cool

Hold converse ; grow familiar, day by day, of plantain shades, and to the listening deer With his conceptions, act upon his plan; The tale of slighted vows and love's disdain And form to his, the relish of their souls. Resound soft-warbling all the livelong day :

To listening gods he makes him known,

That man divine, by whom were sown
ODE

The seeds of Grecian fame :

Who first the race with freedom fir'd; TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE FRANCIS, EARL

From whom Lycurgus Sparta's sons inspir'd; OF HUNTINGDON.

From whom Platean palms and Cyprian trophies

came. I. The wise and great of every clime,

O noblest, happiest age! Through all the spacious walks of Time,

When Aristides rul'd, and Cimon fought; Where'er the Muse her power display'd,

When all the generous fruits of Homer's page With joy have listen's and obey'd.

Exulting Pindar saw to full perfection brought. For, taught of Heaven, the sacred Nine

O Pindar, oft shalt thou be bail'd of me: Persuasive numbers, forms divine,

Not that Apollo fed thee from his shrine ; To mortal sense impart:

Not that thy lips drank sweetness from the bee , They best the soul with glory fire ;

Nor yet that, studious of thy notes divine, They noblest counsels, boldest deeds inspire; Pan danc'd their measure with the sylvan throng And high o'er Fortune's rage enthrone the fixed

But that thy song heart.

Was proud to unfold

What thy base rulers trembled to behold; Nor less prevailing is their charm

Amid corrupted Thebes was proud to tell

The deeds of Athens and the Persian shame : The vengeful bosom to disarm; To melt the proud with human woe,

Hence on thy head their impious vengeance fell And prompt unwilling tears to flow.

But thou, O faithful to thy fame, Can wealth a power like this afford ?

The Muse's law didst rightly know; Can Cromwell's arts, or Marlborough's sword,

That who would animate his lays,

And other minds to virtue raise,
An equal empire claim ?
No, Hastings. Thou my words will own:

Must feel his own with all her spirit glow.
Thy breast the gifts of every Muse hath known;

III.
Nor shall the giver's love disgrace thy noble name.

Are there, approv'd of later times,
The Muse's awful art,

Whose verse adorn'd a tyrant's* crimes ?
And the blest function of the poet's tongue, Who saw majestic Rome betray'd,
Ne'er shalt thou blush to honor; to assert

And lent the imperial ruffian aid ? From all that scorned Vice or slavish Fear hath Alas! not one polluted bard, sung

No, not the strains that Mincius heard, Nor shall the blandishment of Tuscan strings

Or Tibur's hills replied, Warbling at will in Pleasure's myrtle bower; Dare to the Muse's ear aspire ; Nor shall the servile notes to Celtic kings

Save that, instructed by the Grecian lyre,
By flattering minstrels paid in evil hour, With Freedom's ancient notes their shameful task
Move thee to spurn the heavenly Muse's reign.

they hide.
A different strain,
And other themes,

Mark, how the dread Pantheon stands,
From her prophetic shades and hallow'd streams, Amid the domes of modern hands :
(Thou well canst witness) meet the purged ear: Amid the toys of idle state,
Such, as when Greece to her immortal shell How simpl how severely great!
Rejoicing listen'd, godlike sounds to hear;

Then turn, and, while each western clime
To hear the sweet instructress tell

Presents her tuneful sons to Time, (While men and heroes throng'd around)

So mark thou Milton's name; How life its noblest use may find,

And add, “ Thus differs from the throng How well for freedom be resign'd;

The spirit which inform’d thy awful song, And how, by Glory, Virtue shall be crown'd. Which bade thy potent voice protect thy country's

fame." II.

Yet hence barbaric Zeal Such was the Chian father's strain

His memory with unholy rage pursues; To many a kind domestic train,

While from these arduous cares of public weal Whose pious hearth and genial bowl

She bids each bard begone, and rest him with his Had cheer'd the reverend pilgrim's soul:

Muse. When, every hospitable rile

O fool! to think the man, whose ample mind With equal bounty to requite,

Must grasp at all that yonder stars survey; He struck his magic strings;

Must join the noblest forms of every kind, And pour'd spontaneous numbers forth,

The world's most perfect image to display, And seiz'd their ears with tales of ancient worth,

Can e'er his country's majesty behold, And fill'd their musing hearts with vast heroic things.

Unmoy'd or cold!

O fool! to deem Now oft, where happy spirits dwell,

That he, whose thought must visit every theme, Where yet he tunes his charming shell, Oft near him, with applauding hands, The Genius of his country stands.

• Octavianus Cæsar

Whose heart must every strong emotion know,
Inspir'd by Nature, or by Fortune taught;
That he, if haply some presumptuous foe,
With false ignoble science fraught,
Shall spurn at Freedom's faithful band;
That he their dear defence will shun,

Or hide their glories from the Sun,
Or deal their vengeance with a woman's hand!

To watch the state's uncertain frame,
And baffle Faction's partial aim:
But chiefly, with determin'd zeal,
To quell that servile band, who kneel

To Freedom's banish'd foes;
That monster, which is daily found
Expert and bold thy country's peace to wound;
Yet dreads to handle arms, nor manly counsel knows.

IV.

"Tis highest Heaven's command,

That guilty aims should sordid paths pursue ; I care not that in Arno's plain,

That what ensnares the heart should maim the Or on the sportive banks of Seine,

hand, From public themes the Muse's quire

And Virtue's worthless foes be false to Glory too. Content with polish'd ease retire.

But look on Freedom. See, through every age Where priests the studious head command,

What labors, perils, griefs, hath she disdain'd! Where tyrants bow the warlike hand

What arms, what regal pride, what priestly rage, To vile Ambition's aim,

Have her dread offspring conquer'd or sustain'd! Say, what can public themes afford,

For Albion well have conquer’d. Let the strains Save venal honors to an hateful lord,

Of happy swains,
Reserv'd for angry Heaven, and scorn'd of honest

Which now resound
Fame?

Where Scarsdale's cliffs the swelling pastures

bound, But here, where Freedom's equal throne

Bear witness. There, oft let the farmer hail To all her valiant sons is known; Where all are conscious of her cares,

The sacred orchard which embowers his gate, And each the power, that rules him, shares;

And show to strangers, passing down the vale,

Where Ca'ndish, Booth, and Osborne sate; Here let the Bard, whose dastard tongue

When, bursting from their country's chain, Leaves public arguments unsung,

Even in the midst of deadly harms,
Bid public praise farewell:
Let him to filter climes remove,

Of papal snares and lawless arms,
Far from the hero's and the patriot's love,

They plann'd for Freedom this her noblest reign. And lull mysterious monks to slumber in their cell.

VI.
O Hastings, not to all
Can ruling Heaven the same endowments lend :

This reign, these laws, this public care,
Yet still doth Nature to her offspring call,

Which Nassau gave us all to share, That to one general weal their different powers

Had ne'er adorn'd the English name, they bend,

Could Fear have silenc'd Freedom's claim. Unenvious. Thus alone, though strains divine

But Fear in vain attempts to bind Inform the bosom of the Muse's son ;

Those lofty efforts of the mind Though with new honors the patrician's line

Which social Good inspires; Advance from age to age; yet thus alone

Where men, for this, assault a throne, They win the suffrage of impartial Fame.

Each adds the common welfare to his own; The poet's name

And each unconquer'd heart the strength of all He best shall prove,

acquires. Whose lays the soul with noblest passions move. But thee, O progeny of heroes old,

Say, was it thus, when late we view'd Thee to severer toils thy fate requires :

Our fields in civil blood imbrued ? The fate which form'd ihee in a chosen mould,

When Fortune crown'd the barbarous host, The grateful country of thy sires,

And half the astonish'd isle was lost? Thee to sublimer paths demand;

Did one of all that vaunting train, Sublimer than thy sires could trace,

Who dare affront a peaceful reign, Or thy own Edward teach his race,

Durst one in arms appear?
Though Gaul's proud genius sank beneath his hand. Durst one in counsels pledge his life?

Stake his luxurious fortunes in the strife?
V.

Or lend his boasted name his vagrant friends to

cheer? From rich domains and subject farms, They led the rustic youth to arms;

Yet, Hastings, these are they And kings their stern achievements fear'd; Who challenge to themselves thy country's love ; While private Strife their banners rear'd. The true; the constant: who alone can weigh But loftier scenes to thee are shown,

What Glory should demand, or Liberty approve ! Where Empire's wide-establish'd throne

But let their works declare them. Thy free powers, No private master fills:

The generous powers of thy prevailing mind, Where, long foretold, the people reigns :

Not for the tasks of their confederate hours, Where eaca a vassal's humble heart disdains;

Lewd brawls and lurking slander, were design'd. And judgeth what he sees; and, as he judgeth, wills.

Be thou thy own approver. Honest praise

Oft nobly sways Here be it thine to calm and guide

Ingenuous youth: The swelling democratic tide;

But, sought from cowards and the lying mouth,