叫 Gray. Clos'd his eyes in endless night. Behold where Dryden's lefs prefumptuous car, Two Courfers of ethereal race, With necks in thunder cloath'd, and long refounding pace. III. 3. Hark, his hands the lyre explore! Bright-eyed Fancy hovering o'er Scatters from her pictur'd urn Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn. But ah! 'tis heard no more Oh! Lyre divine, what daring spirit Wakes thee now? tho' he inherit Nor the pride, nor ample pinion Yet oft before his infant eyes would run Such forms, as glitter in the Mufe's ray Yet fhall he mount, and keep his distant way Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate, Beneath the Good how far-but far above the Great. Ma Mason. Mason. Ich theile hier noch die neueste Ode dieses schon oben (B. III. S. 169 ff.) vorgekommenen Dichters mit. Sie wurz de durch die im vorigen Jahre an mehrern Orten in England sehr feierlich begangne hundertjährige Gedächtnißfeier der bekannten großen Revolution veranlasst; und hat, bei manchen Schönheiten, besonders der lezten Strophen, doch wohl den hohen Grad der lyrischen Begeisterung nicht, den dieser Gegenstand erwecken und rechtfertigen konnte. Noch weniger ift dies der Fall in den Occafional Stanzas, die Herr hayley bei eben dieser Gelegenheit, auf Verlangen der Revolution-Society schrieb, und bei ihrer Sekularfeier recitirte. Beide Oden sind im vorigen Jahre zu London einzeln, und sehr ansehnlich, gedruckt worden. ODE IN COMMEMORATION OF THE GLO- MDC, LXXXVIII, It is not Age, creative Fancy's foe, He, at the vernal morn of youth, In live's autumnal eve, again Shall, at their fhrine, refume the ftrain, And fweep the veteran chords with renovated fire. Warm to his own, and to his country's breaft, Mason. Which gilding Naffau's patriot prow, The fource whence now her bleffings spring; And in the hero hail'd the friend; A name, when Britain fpeaks, that dignifies her In folemn ftate fhe led him to the throne, On his victorious head. That glow'd not with celestial joy, When Freedom, in her native charms arms! Since then, triumphant on the car of Time, Infcrib'd by her's and Naffau's hands, And, as they gais'd, each white rob'd year Hail to the charter'd rights of British Liberty! Still louder lift the foul-expanding strain, Ye future years! while, from her ftarry thro ne, Again fhe comes to magnify her reign, Enough the monarch to difmay, His own allegiance from the laws That guard the People's rights, that reign the Sovereign's fway. Hark! how from either India's fultry bound, Has heard, and ardent in the cause The avarice of her fons enthralls; Thus on the feraph pair in fuppliant trains fhe calls: „Long have I lent to my Britannia's hands Each blifs deriv'd from me. Shall then her Commerce spread the fail Her throne, her fov'reign to dilgrace; To deal destruction, and thin the human race? Proclaim it not before th' eternal throne Of Him, the fire of univerfal love; But wait till all my fons your Ye envoys from above! influence own, O wait, at this precarious hour, When, in the pendent fcale of power Do thou, fair Truth! as did thy Mafter mild, Mason. Mason. To purify the fouls, by guilt defil'd, With Faith's celeftial flame; Tell them, 'tis Heaven's benign decree The peace-inspiring gale fhould breathe; The glory of the Christian name, That loads fraternal tribes with bondage worse than death? „Tell them, they vainly grace, with feftive joy, But peace! their confcience feels the wrong; Repentant breaks the choral lay: Cra |