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Forth from their flaming eyes dread lightnings | Pindar's unnavigable song went ;

Like a swola flood from some steep mountain beir gaping months did forked tongues, like

pours along; thunderbolts, present.

The ocean meets with such a voice, Some of th' amazed women dropt down dead . From his enlarged mouth, as drowns the ocean's With fear, some wildly filed

noise. About the room, some into corners crept, | So Pindar does net words and figures roll Where silently they shook and wept:

Dow his iinpetuous dithyrambic tide, All naked from her bed the passionate mother Which in no channel deigns t'abide, leap'd,

Which neither banks nor dykes control: To save or perish with her child;

Whether th’immortal gods he sings, She trembled, and she cry'd; the mighty infant In a no less immortal strain, smild:

Or the great acts of god-descended kings, The mighty infant seem'd well pleas'd

Who in his numbers still survive and reign;
At his gay gilded foes ;

Each rich-embroider'd line,
And, as their spotted necks up to the cradle rose, / Which their triumphant brows around,
With his young warlike hands on both he seiz'd : By his sacred hand is bound,

In vain they rag'd, in vain they hiss'd, Does all their starry diadems outshine.
In vain their armed tails they twist,

Whether at Pisa's race he please
Ard angry circles cast about;

To carve in polish'd verse the conqueror's images; Black blood, and fiery breath, and poisonous

Whether the swift, the skilful, or the strong, soul, he squeezes out!

Be crowned in his nimble, artful, vigorous song; With their drawn swords

Whether some brave young man's untimely fate, In ran Amphitryo and the Theban lords;

In words worth dying for, he celebrate With doubting wonder, and with troubled joy, Such mournful, and such pleasing words, They saw the conquering boy

As joy to his mother's and his mistress' grief af. Laugh, and point downwards to his prey,

fords Where, in death's pangs and their own gore, they He bids him live and grow in fame; folding lay.

Among the stars he sticks his naine; When wise Tiresias this beginning knew,

The grave can but the dross of him devour, . He told with ease the things t' ensie;

So small is Death's, so great the poet's power! From what monsters he should free

Lo, how th’ obsequious wind and swelling air The earth, the air, and sea;

The Theban swan does upwards bear What mighty tyrants he should slay, Into the walks of clouds, where he does play, Greater monsters far than they ;

And with extended wings opens his liquid way! How much at Phlægra's field the distrest gods Whilst, alas! my timorous Muse should owe

Unambitious tracts pursues; To their great offspring here below;

Does with weak, unballast wings, And how his club should there outdo

About the mossy brooks and springs, Apollo's silver bow, and his own father's thunder About the trees' new-blossom'd heads, too:

About the gardens' painted beds, And that the grateful gods, at last, .

About the fields and Aowery meads, The race of his laborious virtue past,

And all inferior beauteous things,

Like the laborious bee,
Heaven, which he sav'd, should to him give; /
Where, marry'd to eternal youth, he should for

For little drops of honey flee,

| And there with humble sweets contents her inn ever live; Drink nectar with the gods, and all his senses

In their harmonious, golden palaces;

Walk with ineffable delight
Through the thick groves of never-withering light,

Nor winds to voyagers at sea,
And, as he walks, affright

Nor showers to earth, more necessary he, The Lion and the Bear,

(Heaven's vital seed cast on the womb of Earth Bull, Centaur, Scorpion, all the radiant monsters

To give the fruitful Year a birth)

Than Verse to Virtue; which can do
The midwife's office and the nurse's too ;

It feeds it strongly, and it clothes it gay,

And, when it dies, with comely pride

Embalins it, and erects a pyramid

That never wili decay
Pindarum quisquis studet æmulari, &c. Till Heaven itself shall inelt away,
PINDAR is imitable by none;

And nought behind it stay.
The phenix Pindar is a vast species alone.

Begin the song, and strike the living lyre; Who e'er but Daedalus with waxen wings could fly, Lo! how the Years to come, a numerous and And neither sink too low nor soar too high?

well-fitted quire, What could he who follow'd claim,

All hand in hand do decently advance, But of vain boldness the unhappy fame,

And to my song with smooth and equal mcaAnd by his fall a sea to name?

sures dance! POL. v!l.

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• Whilst the dance lasts, how long soe'er it be, Figures, Conceits, Raptures, and Sentences, My music's voice shall bear it company;

In a well-worded dress;
Till all gentle notes be drown'd

| And innocent Loves, and pleasant Truths, and In the last trumpet's dreadful sound :

useful Lies,
That to the spheres themselves shall silence In all their gaudy liveries.

Uniune the universal string : [bring, Mount, glorious queen! thy travelling throne,
Then all the wide-extended sky,

And bid it to put on;
And all th' harmonious worlds on high, For long, though cheerful, is the way,
And Virgil's sacred work shall die;

And life, alas! allows but one ill winter's day. And he himself shall see in one fire shine

Where never foot of man, or boof of beast, Rich Nature's ancient Troy, though built by

The passage press'd;
hands divine.

Where never fish did siy,
Whom thunder's dismal noise,

And with short silver wings cut the low liquid sky; And all that prophets and apostles louder spake,

Where bird with painted oars did ne'er And all the creatures' plain conspiring voice,

Row through the trackless ocean of the air; · Could not, whilst they liv'd, awake,

Where never yet did pry
This inightier sound shall make

The busy Morning's curious eye;
When dead tarise;

The wheels of thy bold coach pass quick and free,
And open tombs, and open eyes,

And all's an open road to thee; To the long sluggards of five thousand years !

Whatever God did say, This mightier sound shall make its hearers ears.

Is all thy plain and smooth uninterrupted way! Then shall the scatter'd acoms crowding come

Nay, ev'n beyond his works thy voyages are Back to their ancient home;

known, Some from birds, from fishes some;

Thou hast thousand worlds too of thine own. Some from earth, and some from seas;

| Thou speak'st, great queen! in the same style Some from beasts, and some from trees;

as he; Some descend from clouds on high,

And a new world leaps forth when thou say'st, Some from meta's upwards fly,

Let it be." And, where th' attending soul naked and shiver.

er | Thou fathom'st the deep gulf of ages past, ing stands,

And canst pluck up with ease
Meet, salute, and join their hands;

The years which thou dost please;
As dispers'd søldiers, at the trumpet's call,

Like shipwreck'd treasures, by rude tempests Haste to their colours all.

cast Unhappy most, like tortur'd men,

Long since into the sea, Their joints new set, to be new-rack'd again,

Brought up again to light and public use by thee. To mountains they for shelter pray,

Nor dost thou only dive so low, The mountains shake, and run about uo less con- |

But fly fus'd than they.

With an unwearied wing the other way on high, Stop, stop, my Muse! allay thy vigorous heat,

Where Fates among the stars do grow;

There into the close nests of Time dost peep,
Kindled at a hint so great;
Hold thy Pindaric Pegasus closely in,

And there, with piercing eye,
Which does to rage begin,

Through the firm shell and the thick white, dost And this steep hill would gallop up with violent |

spy .

Years to come a-forming lie,
"Tis an unruly and a hard-mouth'd horse,

Close in their sacred fecundine asleep,
Fierce and unbroken yet,

Till hatch'd by the Sun's vital beat,
Impatient of the spur or bit; ..

Which o'er them yet does brooding set, Now prances stately,and anon flies o'er the place;

They life and motion get, Disdains the servile law of any settled pace,

And, ripe at last, with vigorous might Conscious and proud of his own natural force:

Break through the shell, and take their everlast'Twill no unskilful touch endure,

ing flight! But flings writer and reader too, that sits not And sure we may sure.

The same too of the present say, i
If past and future times do thee obey.

Thou stop'st this current, and dost make

This running river settle like a lake;

Thy certain hand holds fast this slippery snake: Go, the rich chariot instantly prepare; . The fruit which does so quickly waste, The queen, my Muse, will take the air :

Men scarce can see it, much less taste, Unruly Fancy with strong Judgment trace; Thou comfitest in sweets to make it last. Put in nimble-footed Wit,

This shining piece of ice, Smooth-pac'd Eloquence join with it;

Which melts so soon away Sound Memory with young Invention place;

With the Sun's ray, Harness all the winged race:

Thy vérse does solidate and crystallize, Let the postillion Nature mount, and let

Will it a lasting mirror be!
The coachman Art be set;

Nay, thy immortal rhyme
And let tbe airy fuotmen, running all beside, Makes this one short point of time
Make a long row of goodly pride,

To fill up half the orb of round eternity.


That all the wardrobe of rich Eloquence Vast bodies of philosophy

Could have afforded half enough, I oft have seen and read;

Of bright, of new, and lasting stuff, But all are bodies dead,

To cloathe the mighty limbs of thy gigantic Senseo Or bodies by art fashioned ;

Thy solid reason, like the shield from Heaven I never yet the living soul could see,

• To the Trojan hero given, But in thy books and thee!

Too strong to take a mark from any mortal dart, 'Tis only God can know

Yet shines with gold and gems in every part, Whether the fair idea thou dost show

| And wonders on it grav'd by the learn'd hand of Agree entirely with his own or no.

A shield that gives delight

[Art! This I dare boldly tell,

Ev'n to the enemies' sight, 'Tis so like truth, 'twill serve our turn as well.

Then, when they 're sure to lose the combat by't.. Just, as in Nature, thy proportions be,

Nor can the snow, which now cold Age does shed As full of concord their variety,

Upon thy reverend head, As firm the parts upon their centre rest,

Quench or allay the noble fires within;, And all so solid are, that they, at least

But all which thou hast been, As much as Nature, emptiness detest.

And all that youth can be thou 'rt yet!

So fully still dost thou Long did the mighty Stagyrite retain

Enjoy the manhood and the bloom of Wit, The universal intellectual reign, i

And all the natural heat, but not the fever too ! Saw his own country's short-liv'd leopard slain;

So contraries on Etna's top conspire; The stronger Roman eagle did out-fly,

Here boary frosts, and by them breaks out fire! Oftener renew'd bis age, and saw that die.

A secure peace the faithful neighbours keep; Mecca itself, in spite of Mahomet, possest,

Th’embolden'd snow next to the fame does sleep! And, cbac'd by a wild deluge from the East,

And if we weigh, like thee, His monarchy new planted in the West.

Nature and causes, we shall see But, as in time each great imperial race

That thus it needs must be Degenerates, and gives some new one place: To things immortal, 'Time can do no wrong. So did this noble empire waste,

And that which never is to die, for ever must be Sunk by degrees from glories past,

young. And in the school-mea's hands it'd quite at

Then nought but words it grew, (last:

And those all barbarous too:
It perish'd, and it vanish'd there; (ty air!

The life and soul, breath'd out, became but emp-

Hoc quoque fatale est sic ipsum expendere The fields, which answer'd well the ancients'


Manil. plough,

STRANGE and unnatural! let's stay and see
Spent and out-wom, return no harvest now;
In barren age wild and unglorious lie,

This pageant of a prodigy.
And boast of past fertility,

Lo, of themselves th’enliven'd Chess-men move! The poor relief of present poverty.

Lo, the unbred, ill-organ'd pieces prove Food and fruit we now must want,

As full of art and industry, Unless new lands we plant.

Of courage and of policy,

[we! We break-up tombs with sacrilegious hands;

| As we ourselves,who think there's nothing wise bat Old rubbish we remove ;

Here a proud Pawn I admire, To walk in ruins, like vain ghosts, we love,

That, still advancing higher, And with fond divining wands

At top of all became We search among the dead

Another thing and name; For treasures buried;

Here I'm amaz'd at th' actions of a Knignt, Whilst still the liberal Earth does hold

That does bold wonders in the fight; So many virgin-mines of undiscover'd gold.

Here I the losing party blame,

For those false moves that break the game, The Baltic, Euxine, and the Caspian,

That to their grave, the bag, the conquer'd And slender-limb'd Mediterranean, Seem narrow creeks to thee, and only fit And, above all, th’ ill-conduct of the Mated For the poor wretched fisher-boats of wit:

king. Thy nobler vessel the vast ocean tries, . And nothing sees but seas and skies,

“Whate'er these seem, whate'er philosophy Till unknown regions it descries.

And sense or reason tell,” said S, Thou great Columbus of the golden lands of pew I “ These things have life, election, liberty; philosophies !

'Tis their own wisdom moulds their state, · Thy task was harder much than his;

Their faults and virtues make their fate. For thy learn'd America is

They do, they do,” said I ; but straight, Not only round-out first by thee,

Lo! from my enlighten'd eyes the mists and And rudely left to future industry;

shadows fell, But thy eloquence and thy wit,

That binder spirits from being visible; Has planted, peopled, built, and civiliz'd it.

And, lo! I saw two angel: play'd the Mate.

With man, alas! no otherwise it proves; I little thought before,

An unseen band makes all their moves; (Nor, being my own self so poor,

And some are great, and some are small, Could comprehend sø vast a store)

| Some climb to good, some from good-fortune fall,

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Some wise-men, and some fools, we call; . But as her beams reflected pass Figures, alas ! of speech, for Destiny plays us Through our own Nature or Ill-custom's glass:

As 'tis no wonder, so, Me from the womb the midwife Muse did take:

If with dejected eye She cut my navel, wash'd me, and mine head

In standing pools we seek the sky, With her own hands she fashioned ;

That stars, so high above,should seem to us below. She did a covenant with me make, [spake: Can we stand by and see And circumcis'd my tender soul, and thus she Our mother robb’d, and bound, and ravish'd be, “ Thou of my church shalt be;

Yet not to her assistance stir, Hate and renounce," said she,

[me. | Fleas'd with the strength and beauty of the ra“ Wealth, honour, pleasures, all the world, for Or shall we fear to kill him, if before [visher? Thou neither great at court, nor in the war,

The cancell'd name of friend he bore? Nor at th' exchange, shalt be, nor at the wrang Ingrateful Brutus do they call ? ling bar:

Ingrateful Cæsar, who could Rome enthrall ! Content thyself with the small barren praise, An act more barbarous and unnatural That neglected verse does raise.”

(Iu th' exact balance of true virtue try'd) She spake, and all my years to come

Than his successor Nero's parricide!
Took their unlucky doom.

There 's none but Brutus could deserve Their several ways of life let others chuse,

That all men else should wish to serve, Their several pleasures let them use,

And Cæsar's usurp'd place to him should proffer; But I was born for love, and for a Muse. None can deserve't but he who would refuse the

With Fate what boots it to contend?
Such I began, such am, aud so must end. III Fate assum'd a body thee t'affright,
The star that did my being frame,

And wrap'd itself i'th'terrours of the night : Was but a Jambent flame,

“I'll meet thee at Philippi," said the sprite; And some small light it did dispense,

“I'll meet thee there,” saidst thou, But neither heat nor influence.

With such a voice, and such a brow,
No matter, Cowley! let proud fortune see, As put the trembling ghost to sudden flight;
That thou canst her despise no less than she does It vanish'd, as a taper's Light

Let all her gifts the portion be (thee. Goes out when spirits appear in sight.
Of Folly, Lust, and Flattery,

One would have thought 't had heard the mom. Fraud, Extortion, Calumny,

ing crow, Murder, Infidelity,

Or seen her well-appointed star Rebellion and Hypocrisy;

Come marching up the eastern hill afar. Do thou not grieve, por blush to be,

Nor durst it in Philippi's field appear, As all th' inspired tuneful men,

But, unseen, attack'd thee there: And all thy great forefathers, were, from Homer | Had it presum'd in any shape thee to oppose, down to Ben.

Thou would'st hare forc'd it back upon thy foes :

Or slain 't, like Cæsar, though it be

A conqueror and a monarch mightier far than he. EXCELLENT Brutus ! of all human race

What joy can human things to us afford, The best, till Nature was improv'd by Grace;

When we see perish thus, by odd events, Till men above themselves Faith raised more

Ill men, and wretched accidents, (sword ? Than Reason above beasts before.

The best cause and best mau that ever drew a Virtue was thy life's centre, and from thence

When we see Did silently and constantly dispense

The false Octavius and wild Antony, The gentle, vigorous influence

God-like Brutus! conquer thee? To all the wide and fair circumference;

What can we say, but thine own tragic word And all the parts upon it lean’d so easily,

That Virtue, which had worship'd been by thee Obey'd the mighty force so willingly,

As the most solid good, and greatest deity,
That pone could discord or disorder see

By this fatal proof became
In all their contrariety:

An idol only, and a name.
Fach had his motion natural and free,

Hold, noble Brutus! and restrain . And the whole no more moy'd, than the whole

The bold voice of thy generous disdain : world, could be.

These mighty gulphs are yet

Too deep for all thy judgment and thy wit. From thy strict rule some think that thou didst

The time's set forth already which shall quell Swerve

Stiff Reason, when it offers to rebel; (Mistaken, honest men!) in Cæsar's blood;

Which these great secrets shall unseal, What mercy could the tyrant's life deserve

And new pbilosophies rereal : From him, who kill'd himself rather than server | A few years more, so soon hadst thou not dy'd, Th’ heroic exaltations of good

| Would have confounded human Virtue's pride, Are so far from understood,

And show'd thee a God crucify'd.
We count them vice: alas ! our sight's so ill,
That things which swiftest move seem to stand
We look not upon Virtue in her height,


[still: On her supreme idea, brave and bright, How long, alas! has our mad nation been In the priginal light;

Of epidemic war the tragic scene,

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When Slaughter all the while

| Who, whilst thy wondrous skill in plants they see, Seem'd, like its sea, embracing round the isle, Fear lest the tree of life should be found out by With tempests, and red waves, noise, and af

thee. fright!

And thy well-travelld knowledge, too, does give Albion no more, nor to be nam'd from white ! No less account of th’ empire sensitive; What province or what city did it spare ?

Chiefly of man, whose body is It, like a plague, infected all the air.

That active soul's metropolis. Sure the unpeopled land

As the great artist in his sphere of glass Would now untili'd,'desert, and naked stand, Saw the whole scene of heavenly motions pass; Had God's all-mighty hand

So thou know'st all so well that 's done within, At the same time let loose Diseases' rage

As if some living crystal man thou 'dst seen. Their civil wars in man to wage.

Nor does this science make thy crown alone, But thou by Heaven wert sent

But whole Apollo is thine own; This desolation to prevent,

His gentler arts, belov'd in vain by me, Amed'cine, and a counter-poison, to the age.

Are wedded and enjoy'd by thee. Scarce could the sword dispatch inore to the grave Thou 'rt by this noble mixture free Than thou didst sare;

From the physician's frequent malady, By wondrous art, and by successful care,

Fantastic incivility: The ruins of a civil war thou dost alone repair !

There are who all their patients' chagrin have, The inundations of all liquid pain,

As ifthey took each morn worse potions than they

gave. And deluge Dropsy, thou dost drain.

And this great race of learning thou hast run, Fevers so hot, that one would say,

Ere that of life be half yet done; Thou might'st as soon hell-fire; allay

Thou see'st thyself still fresh and strong, (The damn'd scarce more incurable than they)

And like t' enjoy thy conquests long. Thou dost so temper, that we find,

The first fam'd aphorism thy great master spoke, Like gold, the body but refin'd,

Did he live now he would revoke,
No unhealthful dross behind.

And better things of man report;
The subtle Ague, that for sureness' sake
Takes its own times th'assault to make,

For thou dost make life long, and art but short. And at each battery the whole fort does shake, Ah, learned friend! it grieves me, when I think When thy strong guards, and works, it spies, That thou with all thy art must die, Trembles for itself, and flies.

As certainly as I ; The cruel Stone, that restless pain, | And all thy nuble reparations sink (tality.

That's sometimes roll'd away in vain, I Into the sure-wrought mine of treacherous morBut still, like Sysipbus's stone, returns again, Like Archimedes, honourably in vain, Thou break'st and meliest by learn'd juices' force, Thou holl'st out towns that must at last be ta'en, (A greater work, though short the way appear, And thou thyself, their great defender, slain. Than Hannibal's by vivegar !)

Let's e'en compound, and for the present live, Oppressed Nature's necessary course

'Tis all the ready-moncy Fate can give; It stops in vain ; like Moses, thou

Unbend sometimes thy restless care, Strik'st but the rock, and straight the waters And let thy friends so happy be freely flow. .

Tenjoy at once their health and thee :

Some hours, at least, to ihine own pleasures spare: The Indian son of Lust (that foul disease

Since the whole stock may soon exhausted be, Which did on this his new-found world but lately Bestow 't not all in charity. Yer since a tyranny has planted here, (seize, | Let Nature and let Art do what they please, As wide and cruel as the Spaniard there) When all 's done, life is an incurable discae,

Is so quite rooted out by thee,

That thy patients seem to be
Restor'd, not to health only, but virginity.

- LIFE AND FAME. 'The Plagne itself, that proud imperial ill, Oh, Life ! thou Nothing's younger brother! Which destroys towns, and does whole armies So like, that one might take one for the

other ! If thou but succour the besieged heart,

What's somebody, or nobody? Calls all its poisons forth and does depart,

In all the cobwebs of the schoolmen's trade, As if it feard no less thy art,

We no such nice distinction woven see, Than Aaron's incense, or than Phineas' dart.

As 'tis “ to be," or“ not to be." What need there here repeated be by me

Dream of a shadow ! a reflection made The vast and barbarous lexicon

From the false glories of the gay reflected bow, Of man's infirmity?

Is a more solid thing tban thou.
At thy strong charms it must be gone Vain weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise
Though a disease, as well as devil, were called

Up betwixt two eternities !

Yet canst nor wave nor wind sustain,
From creeping moss to soaring cedar thou

But, broken and o'erwhelm'd, the endless oceans Dost all the powers and several portions know,

meet again.
Which fatber-Sun, and mother-Earth below, And with what rare inventions do we strive
On their green infants here bestow :

Ourselves then to survive ?
Canst all those magic virtues from them draw, Wise, subtle arts, and such as well befit
That keep Disease and Death in awe;

That Nothing, man's no wit!


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