'But yield an ampler scene to Bounty's eye, An ampler range to Mercy's ear expand: And, 'midst admiring nations, set on high

Virtue's fair model, framed by Wisdom's hand.

Go, then: the moan of Woe demands thine aid: // Pride's licensed outrage claims thy slumbering

ire:

Pale Genius roams the bleak neglected shade,
And battening Avarice mocks his tuneless lyre.
Even Nature pines by vilest chains oppress'd:
Th' astonish'd kingdoms crouch to Fashion's nod,
O ye pure inmates of the gentle breast,

Truth, Freedom, Love, O where is your abode ?
'O yet once more shall peace from Heaven return,
And young Simplicity with mortals dwell!
Nor Innocence th' august pavilion scorn,

Nor meek Contentment fly the humble cell!

'Wilt thou, my prince, th' beauteous train implore, 'Midst Earth's forsaken scenes once more to bide? Then shall the shepherd sing in every bower, And Love with garlands wreath the domes of Pride.

'The bright tear starting in th' impassion'd eyes Of silent gratitude; the smiling gaze

Of gratulation, faltering while he tries

With voice of transport to proclaim thy praise; 'Th' ethereal glow that stimulates thy frame, When all th' according powers harmonious move, And wake to energy each social aim,

Attuned spontaneous to the will of Jove; Be these, O man, the triumphs of thy soul; And all the conqueror's dazzling glories slight, That, meteor-like, o'er trembling nations roll, To sink at once in deep and dreadful night. 'Like thine, yon orb's stupendous glories burn With genial beam; nor, at th' approach of even, In shades of horror leave the world to mourn,

But gild with lingering light th' impurpled Heaven.'

Thus while she spoke, her eye, sedately meek,
Look'd the pure fervour of maternal love.
No rival zeal intemperate flush'd her cheek—
Can Beauty's boast the soul of Wisdom move ?
Worth's noble pride can Envy's leer appal,
Or staring Folly's vain applauses soothe ?
Can jealous Fear Truth's dauntless heart inthral ?
Suspicion lurks not in the heart of Truth.
And now the shepherd raised his pensive head:
Yet unresolved and fearful roved his eyes,
Scared at the glances of the awful maid;

For young unpractised Guilt distrusts the guise
Of shameless Arrogance-His wav'ring breast,
Though warm'd by Wisdom, own'd no constant
fire.

While lawless Fancy roam'd afar, unblest,
Save in the oblivious lap of soft Desire.
When thus the queen of soul-dissolving smiles:
"Let gentler fate my darling prince attend;
Joyless and cruel are the warrior's spoils,
Dreary the path stern Virtue's sons ascend.
Of human joy full short is the career,
And the dread verge still gains upon your sight:
While idly gazing, far beyond your sphere,
Ye scan the dream of unapproach'd delight:

'Till every sprightly hour, and blooming scene,
Of life's gay morn unheeded glides away,
And clouds of tempests mount the blue serene,
And storms and ruin close the troublous day.

Then still exult to hail the present joy;
Thine be the boon that comes unearn'd by toil;
No froward vain desire thy bliss annoy,

No flattering hope thy longing hours beguile.

Ah! why should man pursue the charms of Fame,
For ever luring, yet for ever coy?

Light as the gaudy rainbow's pillar'd gleam,
That melts illusive from the wondering boy!

What though her throne irradiate many a clime, If hung loose-tottering o'er th' unfathom'd tomb? What though her mighty clarion, rear'd sublime, Display the imperial wreath, and glittering plume? 'Can glittering plume, or can th' imperial wreath Redeem from unrelenting fate the brave? What note of triumph can her clarion breathe, T' alarm th' eternal midnight of the grave? 'That night draws on: nor will the vacant hour Of expectation linger as it flies:

Nor Fate one moment unenjoy'd restore :

Each moment's flight how precious to the wise! 'O shun th' annoyance of the bustling throng, That haunt with zealous turbulence the great; There coward Office boasts th' unpunished wrong, And sneaks secure in insolence of state.

• O'er fancied injury Suspicion pines,

And in grim silence gnaws the festering wound; Deceit the rage-embitter'd smile refines,

And Censure spreads the viperous hiss around.

'Hope not, fond prince, though Wisdom guard thy throne,

Though Truth and Bounty prompt each generous aim,

Though thine the palm of peace, the victor's crown,
The Muse's rapture, and the patriot's flame:

'Hope not, though all that captivates the wise,
All that endears the good exalt thy praise:
Hope not to taste repose: for Envy's eyes
At fairest worth still point their deadly rays.

Envy, stern tyrant of the flinty heart,

Can aught of Virtue, Truth, or Beauty charm? Can soft Compassion thrill with pleasing smart, Repentance melt, or Gratitude disarm?

Ah no.

Where Winter Scythia's waste enchains, And monstrous shapes roar to the ruthless storm, Not Phoebus' smile can cheer the dreadful plains, Or soil accursed with balmy life inform.

Then, Envy, then is thy triumphant hour, When mourns Benevolence his baffled scheme: When Insult mocks the clemency of Power,

And loud Dissension's livid firebrands gleam:

When squint-eyed Slander plies th' unhallow'd tongue,

From poison'd maw when Treason weaves his line, And muse apostate (infamy to song!)

Grovels, low-muttering, at Sedition's shrine.

'Let not my prince forego the peaceful shade,

The whispering grove, the fountain and the plain : Power, with th' oppressive weight of pomp array'd, Pants for simplicity and ease in vain.

The yell of frantic Mirth may stun his ear,

But frantic Mirth soon leaves the heart forlorn : And Pleasure flies that high tempestuous sphere, Far different scenes her lucid paths adorn.

She loves to wander on th' untrodden lawn,
Or the green bosom of reclining hill,
Soothed by the careless warbler of the dawn,
Or the lone plaint of ever-murmuring rill.
Or from the mountain-glade's aerial brow,
While to her song a thousand echoes call,
Marks the wild woodland wave remote below,
Where shepherds pipe unseen, and waters fall.
Her influence oft the festive hamlet proves,
Where the high carol cheers th' exulting ring:
And oft she roams the maze of wildering groves,
Listening th' unnumber'd melodies of Spring.

Or to the long and lonely shore retires;

What time, loose-glimmering to the lunar beam, Faint heaves the slumberous wave, and starry fires Gild the blue deep with many a lengthening gleam.

Then to the balmy bower of Rapture borne, While strings self-warbling breathe elysian rest, Melts in delicious vision, till the morn

Spangle with twinkling dew the flowery waste.

The frolic Moments, purple-pinion'd, dance Around, and scatter roses as they play : And the blithe Graces, hand in hand, advance, Where, with her loved compeers, she deigns to

stray.

'Mild Solitude, in veil of rustic die,

Her sylvan spear with moss-grown ivy bound: And Indolence, with sweetly-languid eye,

And zoneless robe that trails along the ground.

But chiefly Love-O thou, whose gentle mind
Each soft indulgence Nature framed to share,
Pomp, wealth, renown, dominion, all resign'd,
O haste to Pleasure's bower, for Love is there.
Love, the desire of gods! the feast of Heaven!
Yet to Earth's favour'd offspring not denied!
Ah, let not thankless man the blessing given
Enslave to Fame, or sacrifice to Pride.

Nor I from Virtue's call decoy thine ear;
Friendly to Pleasure are her sacred laws:
Let Temperance' smile the cup of gladness cheer;
That cup is death, if he withhold applause.

Far from thy haunt be Envy's baneful sway,
And Hate, that works the harass'd soul to storm :
But woo Content to breathe her soothing lay,
And charm from Fancy's view each angry form.

'No savage joy th' harmonious hours profane !
Whom Love refines, can barbarous tumults please?
Shall rage of blood pollute the sylvan reign?
Shall Leisure wanton in the spoils of Peace ?!

Free let the feathery race indulge the song,
Inhale the liberal beam, and melt in love:
Free let the fleet hind bound her hills along,
And in pure streams the watery nations rove.
To joy in Nature's universal smile

Well suits, O man, thy pleasurable sphere;
But why should Virtue doom thy years to toil?
Ah, why should Virtue's law be deem'd severe ?