So we, brave friend, fuppofe that thy great skill;
Thy gentle mind, and fair example, will,
At thy return, reclaim our frantic isle,
Their fpirits calm; and peace again fhall fmile.
EDM. WALLER, Anglus.
Patavii, typis Pauli Frambotti.
VIRGIL's Tomb. NAPLES 1741.
-Tenues ignavo Pollio chordas
Pulfo; Maroneique redens in margine templi
Suæ animum, & magni tumulis adcanto magiftri.
Came, great bard, to gaze upon thy fhrine,
And o'er thy relicks wait th' infpiring Nine:
For fure, I faid, where Maro's ashes sleep,
The weeping Mufes must their vigils keep:
Still o'er their fav'rite's monument they mourn,
And with poetic trophies grace his urn:
Have placed the shield and martial trumpet here;
The fhepherd's pipe, and rural honours there`:
Fancy had deck'd the confecrated ground,
And scatter'd never-fading rofes round.
And now my bold romantic thought afpires
To hear the echo of celeftial lyres ;
Then catch fome found to bear delighted home,
And boast I learnt the verse at Virgil's tomb:
Or Gretch'd beneath thy myrtle's fragrant fhade,
With dreams extatic hov'ring o'er my head,
See forms auguft, and laurel'd ghofts afcend,
And with thyself, perhaps, the long proceffion end.
I came-but foon the phantoms difappear'd;
Far other scenes, than wanton Hope had rear'd;
No faery rites, no funeral pomp I found;
No trophied walls with wreaths of laurel round:
A mean unhonour'd ruin faintly show'd
The spot where once thy mausoleum stood:
Hardly the form remain'd; a nodding dome
O'ergrown with mofs is now all Virgil's tomb.
'Twas such a fcene as gave a kind relief
To memory, in fweetly-penfive grief:
Gloomy, unpleafing images it wrought;
No mufing, foft complacency of thought:
For Time had canker'd all, and worn away
Ev'n the last, mournful graces of decay:
Oblivion, hateful goddefs, fate before,
And cover'd with her dusky wings the door :
No filver harps I heard, no Muse's voice,
But birds obfcene in horrid notes rejoice:
Fancy recoil'd, and with his tinfel train
Forfook the chearless scene; no more remain
The warm ambitious hopes of airy youth;
Severe Reflection came, and frowning Truth:
Away each glitt'ring gay idea fled,
And bade a melancholy train fucceed,
That form'd, or feem'd to form, a mournful call
In feeble echoes mutt'ring round the wall.
Seek not the Mufes here! th' affrighted maids
Have fled Parthenope's polluted shades:
Her happy fhores, the feats of joy and ease,
Their fav'rite manfions once, no longer please:
No longer, as of old, in tranfport loft,
The fifters rove along th' enchanted coaft;
They turn with horror from each much-lov'd stream,
And loath the fields that were their darling theme:
The tuneful names themselves once fondly gave
To ev'ry fwelling hill, and moffy cave,
So pleasing then, are only heard with fighs;
And each fad echo bids their forrow rife.
Yet Nature smiles, as when their Virgil fung,
Nor 'midst a fairer fcene his lyre was ftrung;
Still bloom the fweets of his elyfium here,
And the fame charms in ev'ry grove appear.
But ah! in vain indulgent funs prevail;
Health and delight in ev'ry balmy gale
Are wafted now in vain: fmall comfort bring
To weeping eyes the beauties of the spring.
To groaning flaves those fragrant meads belong,
Where Tully dictated, and Maro fung.
Long fince, alas! thofe golden days are flown,
When here each Science wore its proper crown;
Pale Tyranny had laid their altars low,
And rent the laurel from the Mufe's brow:
What wonder then 'midst such a scene to fee
The Arts expire with bleeding Liberty?
Penfive and fad, each fair angelic form
Droops, like the wearied dove beneath a storm:
Far other views the poet's thought engage,
Than the warm glories of th' Auguftan age.
Can mis'ry bid th' imagination glow?
Or genius brighten 'midst domestic woe?
To fee defponding wretches round him pine,
Horace had wept beneath the Alban vine.
Sad fits the bard amidst his country's tears,
And fighs, regardless of the wreath he wears.
Did ever Want and Famine sweetly fing?
The fetter'd hand uncouthly strikes the string,
Lo! ftern Oppreffion lifts her iron rod,
And Ruin waits th' imperious harpy's nod:
Black Defolation, and destructive War,
Rife at the fignal, and attend her car.
From the dire pomp th' affrighted shepherd flies,
And leaves his flock the rav'nous foldier's prize.
Where now are all the nymphs that bleft the plains?
Where, the full chorus of contented swains?
The fongs of love, of liberty and peace,
Are heard no more; the dance and tabor cease:
To the foft oaten pipe, and paft'ral reed,
The din of arms, and clarion's blaft fucceed:
Dire shapes appear in ev'ry op'ning glade;
And Furies howl where once the Muses stray'd
Is this the queen of realms, for arts renown'd?
This captive maid, that weeps upon the ground!
Alas! how chang'd!-dejected and forlorn!
The mistress of the world become the fcorn !
Around stand Rapine, Horror and Defpair;
And Ign'rance, dark ally of barb'rous War:
She, at th' ufurping Vandal's dread command,
Difplays her gloomy banner o'er the land:
Beneath its chilling fhade neglected lies
Each fifter Art; and unlamented dies.
Lo! Sculpture lets her ufeless chiffel fall;
While on fome ruin'd temple's broken wall
Sad Architecture fits; and fees with fhame
Mif-shapen piles ufurp her injur'd name:
Mufic and Verfe, unhappy twins! belong
To antique Mafque, and weak unmanly Song
The gath'ring deluge fwells on ev'ry fide,
And monkish Superftition fwells the tide.
By the refiftless torrent overborn
Floats ev'ry Virtue, from its bafis torn:
Fair Learning droops, the fick'ning Arts decay;
And ev'ry laurel fades, and ev'ry@bay.
All is confus'd, no traces now are seen
To fhew what wretched Italy has been.
Thus once Vefuvius, crown'd with circling wood,
Parthenope, thy beauteous neighbour stood :
Perpetual Spring cloath'd the fair mountain's fide;
And what is now thy terror, was thy pride.
Sudden th' imprifon'd flames burst forth; and laid ́
On fmoȧky heaps each fhrieking Dryad's fhade :
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