STROPHE II.

When Athens finks by fates unjust,
When wild Barbarians spurn her dust ;
Perhaps ev'n Britain's utmost shore
Shall cease to bluth with stranger's gore;
See Arts her favage fons control,

And Athens rifing near the pole!
Till fome new Tyrant lifts his purple hand,
And civil madness tears them from the land.

ANTIS TROPHE II.

Ye Gods! what juftice rules the ball!
Freedom and Arts together fall;
Fools grant whate'er Ambition craves,
And men, once ignorant, are flaves.
Oh curs'd effects of civil hate,

In every age, in every ftate!

Still, when the luft of tyrant power fucceeds,
Some Athens perishes, fome Tully bleeds.

20

25

30

CHORUS OF YOUTHS AND VIRGINS.

SEMICHORUS.

OH Tyrant Love! haft thou poffeft

The prudent, learn'd, and virtuous breast?

Wisdom and Wit in vain reclaim,

And Arts but foften us to feel thy flame.

Love, foft intruder, enters here,

But entering learns to be fincere.
Marcus with blushes owns he loves,

And Brutus tenderly reproves.

G 2

5

Why,

Why, Virtue, dost thou blame defire,

Which Nature has impreft?

Why, Nature, doft thou foonest fire
The mild and generous breaft?

CHORUS.

Love's purer flames the Gods approve;
The Gods and Brutus bend to Love :
Brutus for abfent Porcia fighs,
And fterner Caffius melts at Junia's eyes.
What is loofe love? a tranfient gust,
Spent in a fudden storm of luft,
A vapour fed from wild defire,
A wandering, felf-confuming fire.
But Hymen's kinder flames unite;
And burn for ever one;

Chafte as cold Cynthia's virgin light,
Productive as the Sun.

SEMICHORUS.

Oh fource of every focial tye,

United with, and mutual joy!

What various joys on one attend,

As fon, as father, brother, husband, friend ?

His heart now melts, now leaps, now burns,
With reverence, hope, and love.

35

CHORUS.

CHORUS.

Hence guilty joys, diftaftes, furmizes,
Hence falfe tears, deceits, difguifes,
Dangers, doubts, delays, furprizes;

Fires that scorch, yet dare not shine :
Pureft love's unwafting treasure,
Conftant faith, fair hope, long leisure;
Days of eafe, and nights of pleafure;
Sacred Hymen! these are thine.

ODE ON SOLITUDE.

4.0

Written when the Author was about Twelve Years old.

H

APPY the man, whose wish and care

A few paternal acres bound,

Content to breathe his native air,

In his own ground.

Whofe herds with milk, whofe fields with bread,

Whofe flocks fupply him with attire,

Whose trees in fummer yield him shade,

5

flide foft away,

10

In health of body, peace of mind,

Quiet by day.

Sound fleep by night; study and ease,
Together mix'd; fweet recreation;
And innocence, which most does please

With meditation.

G 3

Thus let me live, unfeen, unknown,

Thus unlamented let me die,

Steal from the world, and not a stone

Tell where I lie.

O D E.

20

THE DYING CHRISTIAN TO HIS SOUL.

VITA

I.

VITAL fpark of heavenly flame!
Quit, oh quit this mortal frame :
Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying,

Oh the pain, the bliss of dying!
Ceafe, fond Nature, ceafe thy ftrife,
And let me languish into life.

II.

Hark! they whisper; Angels fay,
Sifter Spirit, come away.
What is this abforbs me quite?

Steals my fenfes, fhuts my fight,
Drowns my fpirits, draws my breath?
Tell me, my Soul, can this be Death?

III.

The world recedes; it difappears!

5

10

Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears

With founds feraphic ring:

15

Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly!

O Grave! where is thy Victory?

O Death! where is thy Sting?

AN

1

AN

ESSAY

ON

CRITICISM.

Written in the Year M DCC IX *.

"Si quid novifti rectius iftis,

"Candidus imperti; fi non, his utere mecum."

HOR.

*Mr. Pope told me himself, that the "Effay on "Criticifm" was indeed written in 1707, though faid 1709 by mistake. J. RICHARDSON.