From what monfters he should free
The earth, the air, and fea ;

What mighty tyrants he should slay,
Greater monsters far than they;

How much at Phlægra's field the diftreft Gods should owe
To their great offspring here below;

And how his club fhould there outdo Apollo's filver bow, and his own father's thunder too.

And that the grateful Gods, at last, The race of his laborious virtue past,

Heaven, which he fav'd, fhould to him give ; Where, marry'd to eternal youth, he fhould for ever

live ;

Drink nectar with the Gods, and all his fenfes please In their harmonious, golden palaces;

Walk with ineffable delight

Through the thick groves of never-withering light,
And, as he walks, affright

The lion and the bear,

Bull, centaur, fcorpion, all the radiant monsters there.

THE PRAISE OF PINDAR. In imitation of HORACE's fecond Ode, B. IV. "Pindarum quifquis ftudet æmulari, &c."

PINDAR is

imitable by none;

The Phoenix Pindar is a vast species alone.

Who e'er but Dædalus with waxen wings could fly, And neither fink too low nor foar too high?

What

What could he who follow'd claim, But of vain boldness the unhappy fame, And by his fall a fea to name?

Pindar's unnavigable fong

Like a fwoln flood from fome steep mountain pours along; The ocean meets with fuch a voice,

From his enlarged mouth, as drowns the ocean's noise.

So Pindar does new words and figures roll
Down his impetuous dithyrambic tide,

Which in no channel deigns t' abide,
Which neither banks nor dykes control:
Whether th' immortal Gods he fings,
In a no less immortal strain,

Or the great acts of God-descended kings,
Who in his numbers ftill furvive and reign;
Each rich-embroider'd line,

Which their triumphant brows around,
By his facred hand is bound,
Does all their starry diadems outshine.

Whether at Pifa's race he pleafe

To carve in polifh'd verfe the conqueror's images;
Whether the fwift, the fkilful, or the ftrong,
Be crowned in his nimble, artful, vigorous fong;
Whether fome brave young man's untimely fate,
In words worth dying for, he celebrate-

Such mournful, and fuch pleafing words,
As joy to' his mother's and his mistress' grief affords-

He bids him live and grow in fame;
Among the stars he sticks his name:
The grave can but the drofs of him devour,
So fmall is Death's, fo great the Poet's, power!

Lo, how th' obfequious wind, and swelling air,
The Theban fwan does upwards bear

Into the walks of clouds, where he does play,
And with extended wings opens his liquid way!
Whilft, alas! my timorous Muse
Unambitious tracks purfues;

Does with weak, unballast wings,
About the moffy brooks and springs,
About the trees' new-bloffom'd heads,
About the gardens' painted beds,
About the fields and flowery meads,
And all inferior beauteous things,
Like the laborious bee,

For little drops of honey flee,

And there with humble fweets contents her industry.

N

THE

RESURRECTION.

OT winds to voyagers at fea,

Nor showers to earth, more neceffary be (Heaven's vital feed caft on the womb of earth To give the fruitful year a birth)

Than Verfe to Virtue; which can do 'The midwife's office and the nurfe's too;

3

It

It feeds it strongly, and it clothes it gay,
And, when it dies, with comely pride

Embalms it, and erects a pyramid
That never will decay

Till heaven itself fhall melt away,

And nought behind it stay.

Begin the fong, and strike the living lyre ;

Lo! how the years to come, a numerous and well-fitted

quire,

All hand in hand do decently advance,

And to my song with smooth and equal measures dance!
Whilft the dance lafts, how long foe'er it be,
My mufic's voice shall bear it company;
Till all gentle notes be drown'd

In the last trumpet's dreadful found :
That to the spheres themselves fhall filence bring,
Untune the univerfal ftring:

Then all the wide-extended sky,

And all th' harmonious worlds on high,

And Virgil's facred work, fhall die;

And he himself fhall fee in one fire fhine

Rich Nature's ancient Troy, though built by hands. divine.

Whom thunder's difmal noife,

And all that prophets and apostles louder fpake,.
And all the creatures' plain confpiring voice,

Could not, whilft they liv'd, awake,
This mightier found shall make

C 4

When

When dead t' arise;

And open tombs, and open eyes,

To the long fluggards of five thousand years!
This mightier found shall make its hearers ears.
Then shall the scatter'd atoms crowding come
Back to their ancient home;

Some from birds, from fifhes fome;
Some from earth, and fome from feas;
Some from beafts, and fome from trees;
Some defcend from clouds on high,

Some from metals upwards fly,

And, where th' attending foul naked and shivering ftands,

Meet, falute, and join their hands;
As difpers'd foldiers, at the trumpet's call,
Hafte to their colours all.

Unhappy moft, like tortur'd men,
Their joints new fet, to be new-rack'd again,
To mountains they for fhelter pray,

The mountains shake, and run about no less confus'd than they.

Stop, stop, my Mufe! allay thy vigorous heat,
Kindled at a hint fo great;

Hold thy Pindaric Pegasus closely in,

Which does to rage begin,

And this steep hill would gallop up with violent courfe; 'Tis an unruly and a hard-mouth'd horse,

Fierce