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The schools astonish'd stood, but found it vain
To combat still with demonstration strong,
And, unawaken'd dream beneath the blaze
Of truth. At once their pleasing visions fled,
With the gay shadows of the morning mix’d,
When Newton rose, our philofophic sun.

Th' aërial flow of sound was known to him,
From whence it first in wavy circles breaks,
Till the touch'd organ takes the message in.
Nor could the darting beam of speed immense,
Escape his swift pursuit, and measuring eye.
Ev’n light itself, which every thing displays,
Shone undiscover'd, till his brighter mind
Untwisted all the shining robe of day;
And, from the whitening undistinguish'd blaze,
Collecting every ray into his kind,
To the charm’d eye educ'd the
Of parent colours. First the flaming red
Sprung vivid forth; the tawny orange next;
And next delicious yellow ; by whose side
Fell the kind beams of all-refreshing green. 105
Then the pure blue, that swells autumnal skies,
Ethereal play'd; and then, of fadder hue,
Emerg'd the deepen'd indico, as when
The heavy-skirted evening droops with frost.
While the last gleamings of refracted light
Dy’d in the fainting violet away.
These, when the clouds distil the rosy shower,
Shine out distinct adown the watery bow;
While o'er our heads the dewy vision bends


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To the Memory of Sir ISAAC NEWTON. 161 Delightful, melting on the fields beneath.

115 Myriads of mingling dyes from these refult, And myriads still remain ; infinite source Of beauty, ever-blushing, ever-new!

Did ever poet image aught so fair, Dreaming in whispering groves, by the hoarse brook! Or prophet, to whose rapture heaven descends! Ev'n now the setting fun and shifting clouds, Seen, Greenwich, from thy lovely heights, declare How juft, how beauteous, the refractive law.

The noiseless tide of time, all bearing down 125 To vast eternity's unbounded fea, Where the green islands of the happy shine, He stemm'd alone; and to the source (involvid Deep in primeval gloom) ascending, rais'd His lights at equal distances, to guide

130 Historian, wilder'd on his darksome way.

But who can number up his labours ? who
His high discoveries fing? when but a few
Of the deep-studying race can stretch their minds
To what he knew :* in fancy's lighter thought,
How shall the Muse then grasp the mighty theme?

What wonder thence that his devotion swellid
Responsive to his knowledge! For could he,
Whose piercing mental eye

diffufive saw The finish'd university of things,

140 In all its order, magnitude, and parts, Forbear incessant to adore that power Who fills, sustains, and actuates the whole ? Say, ye who best can tell, ye happy few, VOL. II. M


135 145

Wlio saw him in the softest lights of life,
All unwithheld, indulging to his friends
The vast unborrow'd treasures of his mind,
Oh, speak the wondrous man ! how mild, how calm,
How greatly humble, how divinely good;
How firm establish'd on eternal truth;

Fervent in doing well, with every nerve
Still preffing on, forgetful of the past,
And panting for perfection : far above
Those little cares, and visionary joys,
That to perplex the fond impassion'd heart

155 Of ever-cheated, ever-trufting man.

And you, ye hopeless gloomy-ininded tribe,
You who, unconscious of those nobler flights
That reach impatient at immortal life,
Against the prime endearing privilege

Of being darc contend, say, can a foul
Of such extensive, deep, tremendous powers,
Enlarging still, be but a finer breath
Of fpirits dancing through their tubes awhile,
And then for ever lost in vacant air?

165 But, hark! methinks I hear a warning voice, Solemn as when some aweful change is come, Sound through the world—'Tis done~The measure's full; And I resign my charge. Ye mouldering stones, That build the towering pyramid, the proud 170 Triumphal arch, the monument effac'd By ruthlefs ruin, and whate’er supports The worlip name of hoar antiquity, Down to the duft! what grandeur can ye boast

To the Memory of Sir ISAAC NEWTON. 163 While Newton lifts his column to the skies, 175 Beyond the waste of time. Let no weak drop Be shed for him. The virgin in her bloom Cut off, the joyous youth, and darling child, These are the tombs that claim the tender tears And elegiac song. But Newton calls

180 For other notes of gratulation high, That now he wanders through those endless worlds He here so well descried, and wondering talks, And hymns their author with his glad compeers.

O, Britain's boast! whether with angels thou 185 Sitteft in dread discourse, or fellow-bleft, Who joy to see the honour of their kind; Or whether, mounted on cherubic wing, Thy swift career is with the whirling orbs, Comparing things with things, in rapture lost, Igo And grateful adoration, for that light So plenteous ray'd into thy mind below, From Light bimself ; oh, look with pity down On human-kind, a frail erroneous race ! Exalt the spirit of a downward world !

19: O’er thy dejected country chief preside, And be her Genius call'd! her studies raise, Correct her manners, and inspire her youth. For, though depray'd and funk, she brought thee forth, And glories in thy name ; flie points thee out To all her fons, and bids them eye thy ftar : While, in expectance of the second life, When time shall be no more, thy sacred dust Sleeps with her kings, and dignifies the scene.


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To the Memory of the Right Hon. Lord TALBOT,

Lord Chancellor of Great Britain. Addressed to his Son.


WHILE, with the public, you, my Lord, lament

A friend and father loft; permit the Muse,
The Muse affign'd of old a double theme,
To praise dead worth, and humble living pride,
generous tak begins where interest ends,

Permit her on a Talbot's tomb to lay
This cordial verse sincere, by truth inspir’d,
Which means not to bestow, but borrow fame.
Yes, she may fing his matchless virtues now
Unhappy that she may. But where begin?
How from the diamond single out each ray,
Where all, though trembling with ten thousand hues,
Effufe one dazzling undivided light?

Let the low-minded of these narrow days No more presume to deem the lofty tale

Of ancient times, in pity to their own,
Romance. In Talbot we united saw
The piercing eye, the quick enlighten'd foul,
The graceful ease, the flowing tongue of Greece,
Join’d to the virtues and the force of Rome.

Eternal Wisdom, that all-quickening sun,
Whence every life, in just proportion, draws
Directing light and actuating flame,
Ne’er with a larger portion of its beams



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