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The fenate's thanks, the gazette's pompous tale,
With force refiftlefs o'er the brave prevail.

Such bribes the rapid Greek o'er Afia whirl'd,
For fuch the steady Romans fhook the world;
For fuch in diftant lands the Britons shine,

And ftain with blood the Danube or the Rhine;
This pow'r has praise, that virtue scarce can warm,
'Till fame fupplies the universal charm.

Yet Reason frowns on War's unequal game,
Where wasted nations raise a single name,

And mortgag'd states their grandfires wreaths regret,
From age to age in everlasting debt;

Wreaths which at laft the dear-bought right convey
To ruft on medals, or on ftones decay.

On what foundation stands the warrior's pride,
How juft his hopes let Swedish Charles decide;
A frame of adamant, a foul of fire,

No dangers fright him, and no labours tire;
O'er love, o'er fear extends his wide domain,
Unconquer'd lord of pleasure and of pain;
No joys to him pacific fcepters yield,

War founds the trump, he rushes to the field;

Behold furrounding kings their pow'r combine,
And one capitulate, and one refign;

* Ver. 147-167.

Peace

Peace courts his hand, but spreads her charms in vain; "Think nothing gain'd, he cries, 'till nought remain, "On Moscow's walls 'till Gothic ftandards fly, "And all be mine beneath the polar sky." The march begins in military state,

And nations on his eye fufpended wait;

Stern Famine guards the folitary coast,
And Winter barricades the realm of Froft;
He comes, not want and cold his course delay';
Hide, blushing Glory, hide Pultowa's day:
The vanquish'd hero leaves his broken bands,
And fhews his miferies in diftant lands;
Condemn'd a needy fupplicant to wait,

While ladies interpofe, and flaves debate.
But did not Chance at length her error mend?
Did no fubverted empire mark his end?
Did rival monarchs give the fatal wound?
Or hoftile millions prefs him to the ground?
His fall was deftin'd to a barren strand,
A petty fortrefs, and a dubious hand;

He left the name, at which the world grew pale,
To point a moral, or adorn a tale.

All' times their scenes of pompous woes afford,
From Perfia's tyrant to Bavaria's lord.

1 Ver, 168-187.

VOL. IV.

M

In

In gay hoftility, and barb'rous pride,
With half mankind embattled at his fide,

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Great Xerxes comes to feize the certain prey,
And starves exhausted regions in his way;
Attendant Flatt'ry counts his myriads o'er,
'Till counted myriads footh his pride no more;
Fresh praise is try'd 'till madness fires his mind,
The waves he lafhes, and enchains the wind;

13

New pow'rs are claim'd, new pow'rs are still bestow'd, 'Till rude refistance lops the fpreading god;

The daring Greeks deride the martial show,

1

And heap their vallies with the gaudy foe;
Th' infulted fea with humbler thoughts he gains,
A fingle fkiff to speed his flight remains ;

Th' incumber'd oar fcarce leaves the dreaded coaft
Through purple billows and a floating hoft.

The bold Bavarian, in a luckless hour,

Tries the dread fummits of Cefarean pow'r,
With unexpected legions burfts away,

And fees defenceless realms receive his fway;

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Short fway! fair Auftria spreads her mournful charms,

The queen, the beauty, fets the world in arms;
From hill to hill the beacons roufing blaze

Spreads wide the hope of plunder and of praife;

The

The fierce Croatian, and the wild Huffar,
And all the fons of ravage crowd the war;
The baffled prince in honour's flatt'ring bloom
Of hafty greatnefs finds the fatal doom,
His foes derifion, and his fubjects blame,

And steals to death from anguish and from fhame.

m

Enlarge my life with multitude of days,

In health, in fickness, thus the fuppliant prays;
Hides from himself his ftate, and fhuns to know,
That life protracted is protracted woe.

Time hovers o'er, impatient to destroy,
And shuts up all the paffages of joy:
In vain their gifts the bounteous seasons pour,
The fruit autumnal, and the vernal flow'r,
With liftless eyes the dotard views the store,
He views, and wonders that they please no more;
Now pall the tasteless meats, and joylefs wines,
And Luxury with fighs her flave refigns.
Approach, ye minstrels, try the foothing strain,
And yield the tuneful lenitives of pain:

No founds, alas! would touch th' impervious ear,
Though dancing mountains witnefs Orpheus near,
Nor lute nor lyre his feeble pow'rs attend,

Nor fweeter music of a virtuous friend,

m Ver. 188 288.

M 2

But

But everlasting dictates crowd his tongue,
Perversely grave or pofitively wrong.

The still returning tale, and ling'ring jeft,
Perplex the fawning niece and pamper'd guest,
While growing hopes fcarce awe the gath'ring fneer,
And scarce a legacy can bribe to hear;

The watchful guests still hint the last offence,
The daughter's petulance, the fon's expence,
Improve his heady rage with treach'rous skill,
And mould his paffions 'till they make his will.
Unnumber'd maladies his joints invade,
Lay fiege to life and prefs the dire blockade;
But unextinguifh'd Av'rice ftill remains,
And dreaded loffes aggravate his pains;

He turns, with anxious heart and crippled hands,
His bonds of debt, and mortgages of lands ;
Or views his coffers with fufpicious eyes,
Unlocks his gold, and counts it 'till he dies.

But grant, the virtues of a temp'rate prime
Blefs with an age exempt from fcorn or crime;
An age that melts in unperceiv'd decay,
And glides in modest innocence away;

Whofe peaceful day Benevolence endears,

Whofe night congratulating Confcience chears;

The

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