TO HIS GRACE FRANCIS DUKE OF BUCCLEUGH, KNIGHT OF THE MOST ANCIENT AND NOBLE ORDER OF THE THISTLE. MY LORD, POWER without goodness implies only an unlimited capacity of doing mischief; goodness without power is to a generous mind but a painful and barren possession! But when these two qualities unite, they bless mankind in proportion to their degrees, and conspire to form that character, which of all others is the most amiable, and worthy of our imitation and esteem! However mistaken the point has been, it must be confessed, my lord, that panegyric is neither the talent of every writer, nor the property of every patron. There is here, as in painting, a delicacy in disposing the lights, and placing the figures with propriety, which few of the pretenders to either art are masters of. From hence it arises that, on these occasions, praise has been so unjustly as well as ungracefully lavished, that those, who are most entitled to it, scorn to receive it in a way that has been so liable to prostitution. For this reason, my lord, I shall forbear to offend you with any compliments of this nature, which, however well intended they might be, would to your friends appear inferior to your grace's merit, and to strangers might seem like adulation. I shall only say, that if the humane and benevolent exercise of wealth and power can describe the noblest disposition, or bestow the truest happiness, your grace is justly rewarded in the cheerful service and affection of all who more immediately depend on you, and in the sincere esteem and respect of all who have the honour to know you. That easy grandeur you possess of accommodating yourself to those below you, without losing your dignity, effectually procures you that veneration which pride, with all its ostentation, can never really obtain. As most of the pieces, which form this collection, were wrote in that part of Britain from whence your grace derives your title, and which has often felt the kind influences of your presence: as some of them have been formerly honoured with your grace's generous notice and protection, I flatter myself your grace will not refuse them a shelter under your auspicious patronage. The love of learning is inseparable from all truly great and noble minds. It is the first love which produces the love of virtue! of liberty! of every thing that is in reality valuable and praiseworthy! If any of these productions, my lord, bear these impressions, it is from thence only they can merit your grace's favourable regard. Such as they are, my lord, you will condescend to receive them as the dutiful offerings of a heart sincerely affectionate to your illustrious family, ardent for your grace's personal prosperity and honour, and whose author is, with the highest esteem and veneration, my LORD, your grace's most obliged, and most devoted faithful servant, SAMUEL BOYSE. TRANSLATIONS AND POEMS. TRANSLATIONS. More from this joy refin'd I taste, Than misers from their bags increas'd; Verum ubi plura nitent in carmine, non ego paucis From thence more gladness fills my heart, Offendar maculis, quos aut incuria fudit Aut humana parum cavet natura. PSALM IV. HOR. de Arte Poet. PARAPHRASED. THOU, almighty Righteousness! Who oft has sav'd me in distress; In mercy bow thy sov'reign ear, Relieve my woe, my sorrows hear! From men, who slight thy sacred ways, Yet men, blind men, their dreams pursue, To thee, the sole all-beauteous fair! Thy piercing eye, that marks the whole, This keeps the pious mind in awe, Supremely merciful and just, In thee, thy faithful people trust; Let earth-born souls, with groveling sight, Than all the world can e'er impart. Fed by thy providential care, When the provided day is done, When breaks the dawn of rosy morn, To thee, the Lord of Life, I turn; And my awaken'd senses raise, Attentive in their Maker's praise. Thou great Omniscience! watch my ways, PART OF PSALM XLII. IN IMITATION OF THE STYLE OF SPENSER. LIKE Some faire deer by hunters close pursued, Who bath'd in sweat explores the cooling flood; So my poore soul, by eager foes subdued, Looks up to thee, the ever-living God! When, when shall I approach that happie place Where shines thy glory, and where rests thy peace? I pass my days in sighs, in grones, and tears, With foreign spoils their lovely charms adorn'd! But now he helpless lies upon the plain, Unhappy Israel! mourn thy beauty slain! Oh! let thy heav'nly beams these sorrowes cheere, | Who oft, when crown'd with conquest he return'd, And see!-my soul, his glorious arm display'd! Behold my great deliverer appear! THE LAMENTATION OF DAVID FOR SAUL AND JONATHAN. 11 Samuel 1. v. 17-27. TRANSLATED. How are the mighty fall'n upon the plain? LET none to Askalon the loss reveal, How are the mighty fall'n upon the plain? On Gilboah's heights let no more dew be found, Let Heav'n displeas'd its kindly smiles refrain, How oft in arms together have they fought, But now the breathless warriors press the plain, Whom nature join'd, and fond affection ty'd, How are the mighty fall'n upon the plain? Let Zion's daughters at the rueful tale, Oh Jonathan!--the brother and the friend, How are the mighty fall'n upon the plain? ORATIO GALGACI DUCIS BRITANNICI, EX TACITO IN VITA JUL. AGRICOLE. Et nomen pacis dulce est, et ipsa res salutaris, sed inter pacem et servitutem plurimum interest: pax est tranquilla libertas; servitus autem malorum omnium extremum, non modo bello, sed etiam morte repellendum ! QUOTIES causas belli et necessitatem nostram intueor, magnus mihi animus est, hodiernam diem consensumque vestrum initium libertatis totius Britanniæ fore. Nam et universi servitutis expertes ac nulla ultra terræ nec mari quidem securum, imminente nobis classe Romanâ. Ita prælia atque arma, quæ fortibus honesta, eadem etiam ignavis tutissima sunt. Priores pugnæ quibus adversus Romanos varia fortuna certatum est, spem ac subsidium in nostris manibus habebant, quia nobilissimi totius Britanniæ, eoque in ipsius penetralibus siti, nec servientium littora adspicientes, oculos etiam a contactu dominationis inviolatos habebamus. Nos terrarum et libertatis extremos, recessus ipse ac sinus famæ in hunc diem defendit. Nunc terminus Britanniæ patet, atque omne ignotum pro magnifico est. Sed nulla jam ultra gens, nil nisi fluctus et saxa et interiores Romani, quorum superbiam frustrà per obsequium et modestiam effugeris. Raptores orbis, postquam cuncta vastantibus defuere, terræ ac mari scrutantur; si locuples hostis est, avari; si pauper, ambitiosi; quos non oriens, non occidens satiaverit, soli omnium opes, atque inopiam pari affectu concupiscunt. Auferre, trucidare, rapere, falsis nominibus, imperium; atque ubi solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant! Liberos cuique et propinquos suos natura carrissimos esse voluit; hi, per delectus, alibi servituros auferuntur. Conjuges et sorores, si hostilem libidinem effugiunt, nomine amicorum atque hospitum polluuntur. Bona, fortunasque in tributum egerunt, in annonum, frumentum: corpora ipsa atque manus, in silvis et paludibus emoniendis, verbera inter et contumelias, conterunt. Nata servituti mancipia semel veneunt, atque ultro a de |