Till, overcome by greater art or strength,
Jack Luby lays along his lubber length.
"A fall, a fall!" the loud spectators cry;
"A fall, a fall!" the echoing hills reply.

O'er yonder field in wild confusion runs
A clam'rous troop of Affric's sable sons:
Behind, the victors shout with barbarous roar,
The vanquish'd fly with hideous yells before;
The gloomy squadron thro' the valley speeds,
Whilst clatt'ring cudgels battle o'er their heads.
Again to church the learned tribe repair,

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Where syllogisms battle in the air;

And then the elder youth their second laurels wear.
Hail, happy laurets, who our hopes inspire,

And set our ardent wishes all on fire:

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By you the pulpit and the bar will shine,

In future annals, while the ravish'd nine
Will in your bosom breathe cælestial flames,

And stamp Eternity upon your names.
Accept my infant muse, whose feeble wings

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Can scarce sustain her flight while you she sings;

With candour view my rude unfinish'd praise,

And see my Ivy twist around your bayes:

So Phideas, by immortal Jove inspir'd,

His statue carv'd, by all mankind admir'd;
Nor thus content, by his approving nod
He cut himself upon the shining god,
That, shaded by the umbrage of his name,
Eternal honours might attend his fame.

JOHN MAYLEM

FROM

THE CONQUEST OF LOUISBURG
See AMHERST now his warlike Squadrons range,
Portending dreadful Death and loud Revenge;
Forms his fierce Legions in embattled Ranks,
With Van and Rear-Guard and important Flanks;
Then at their Head, heroic and serene,

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March'd like young Scipio to a bloodier Scene,
To a high Battery, or winding Length,
Of double Embrasures, of double Strength,
Whose mighty Walls the Enemy immure,
And the long Trenches aid their great Secure;
Now o'er the Heath his brave Myrmidons leads,
While the shrill Music sounds to noble Deeds,
And the warm Sun-beams on their Fire-locks play,
Strike off in Spires and aid the blaze of Day.
A gen'ral halt ensues, nor yet the Van
Had the fierce Onset of Attack began;

Six Deep the Front a martial Grace disclose,
That dar'd the Thunder of their Gallic Foes.
But lo, while ready for the Charge they stood,
Death, Blunderbuss, Artillery, and Blood,
Blue Smoke and purple Flame around appear,
And the hot Bullets hail from Front to Rear.
Tremendous Fate by Turns incessant flies,
While the black Sulphur cloud the azure Skies;
And ghastly Savages, with fearful yell,
Invoke their Kindred of profoundest Hell,

Whose hoarse shrill powaws valiant AMHERST scorns,

ΙΟ

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And roars loud Thunder from his dread Cohorns.

Now dire Confusions on Confusions rise,

And the deep Conflict aids the mighty Noise.

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From Hills of Smoke see Spire ascend on Spire,

And AMHERST there invelop'd all in Fire;

With his drawn Sabre, from a livid Cloud

With teeming Death emerging like a God;

Ten thousand Beams spire from the flaming Steel,

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And Gallia's Sons his weighty Prowess feel.
Now the vast Tumult wakes the drowsy Gods,
Who all look down to see the mighty odds:
When AMHERST there, like Peleus mighty Son,
Dreadful in Arms and Tyrian Scarlet shone,
Engaging here, in Martial Order stood

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Fierce as Alcides or the Scythian God;

Till thundring Mars no more the Sight could bear,

Turn'd pale with Envy and let drop his Spear,

And Fame, all flaming from the imperial Car,
Hail'd him sole Rival of the God of War.

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1758.

1758.

THOMAS GODFREY

THE INVITATION

Damon. Haste, Sylvia, haste, my charming maid!

Let's leave these fashionable toys:

Let's seek the shelter of some shade,
And revel in ne'er fading joys.
See, Spring in liv'ry gay appears,

And winter's chilly blasts are fled;

Each grove its leafy honours rears,

And meads their lovely verdure spread.

Sylvia. Yes, Damon, glad I 'll quit the town;
Its gaieties now languid seem:

Then sweets to luxury unknown

We'll taste, and sip th' untainted stream.

In Summer's sultry noon-tide heat

I'll lead thee to the shady grove,

There hush thy cares, or pleas'd repeat

Those vows that won my soul to love.

Damon. When o'er the mountain peeps the dawn,

And round her ruddy beauties play,

I'll wake my love to view the lawn,
Or hear the warblers hail the day.
But without thee the rising morn

In vain awakes the cooling breeze;

In vain does nature's face adorn

Without my Sylvia nought can please.

Sylvia. At night, when universal gloom

Hides the bright prospects from our view,

When the gay groves give up their bloom
And verdant meads their lovely hue,
Tho' fleeting spectres round me move,

When in thy circling arms I 'm prest,

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I'll hush my rising fears with love,

And sink in slumber on thy Breast.

Damon. The new-blown rose, whilst on its leaves

Yet the bright scented dew-drop's found,

Pleas'd on thy bosom whilst it heaves,

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Shall shake its heav'nly fragrance round.

Then mingled sweets the sense shall raise,
Then mingled beauties catch the eye:
What pleasure on such charms to gaze,

What rapture 'mid such sweets to lie!

Sylvia. How sweet thy words! But, Damon, cease,
Nor strive to fix me ever here;
Too well you know these accents please,

That oft have fill'd my ravish'd ear.
Come, lead me to these promis'd joys
That dwelt so lately on thy tongue;

And calm my transports with thy song!

Direct me by thy well-known voice,

1758.

1758.

FROM

THE COURT OF FANCY

'T was sultry noon; impatient of the heat

I sought the covert of a close retreat:

Soft by a bubbling fountain was I laid,

And o'er my head the spreading branches play'd,
When gentle slumber stole upon my eyes,
And busy Fiction bid this vision rise.

Methought I, pensive, unattended, stood,
Wrapt in the horrors of a desert wood:
Old Night and Silence spread their sway around,
And not a breeze disturb'd the dread profound.
To break the wild and gain the neighb'ring plain

Oft I essay'd, and oft essay'd in vain;
Still in intricate mazes round I run,

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And ever ended where I first begun.

While thus I lab'ring strove t' explore my way,
Bright on my sense broke unexpected Day;
Retiring Night in haste withdrew her shade,
And sudden morn shone thro' the op'ning glade.
No more the scene a desert wild appear'd;
A smiling grove its vernal honors rear'd,
While sweetness on the balmy breezes hung,
And all around a joyful Mattin rung:
Soft was the strain as Zephyr in the grove,

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Or purling streams that thro' the meadows rove;
Now wild in air the varying strain is tost,

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In distant echoes then the sound is lost,

Again reviv'd, and lo the willing trees

Rise to the pow'rful numbers by degrees.

Trees now no more, robb'd of their verdant bloom,

They shine supporters of a spacious dome;

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The wood to bright transparent crystal chang'd,

High fluted columns rise in order rang'd.

So to the magic of Amphion's lyre

Stones motion found, and Thebes was seen t' aspire;

The nodding forests 'rose with the soft sound,

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And gilded turrets glitter'd all around:

Each wond'ring God bent from his heav'nly seat

To view what pow'rful music cou'd compleat.

High on a mountain was the pile disclos'd,
And spreading limes th' ascending walks compos'd;
While far below the waving woods declin'd,
Their verdant tops bow'd with the gentle wind.
Bright varying Novelty produc'd delight,
And Majesty and Beauty charm'd the sight.
Such are the scenes which Poets sweetly sing,
By Fancy taught to strike the trembling string.

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Here Fancy's fane, near to the blest abode

Of all her kindred Gods, superior stood.

Dome upon dome it sparkl'd from on high,

Its lofty top lost in the azure sky.

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By Fiction's hand th' amazing pile was rear'd;

Now thro' the sounding vaults, self-op'ning, rung

The massy gates on golden hinges hung;

All the bright structure was disclos'd to view,

Magnificent with beauty ever new:

Trembling I stood absorb'd in dread surprize,
And sudden glory dim'd my aching eyes.
Unnumber'd Pillars all around were plac'd,
Their capitals with artful sculpture grac'd.

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