Then only envying heaven's creative hand :
Win'd to his gloomy reign his envious arts
Might win this prize, and doubled every snare.
And vain were reason, courage, learning, all,
Till power accede till Tudor's wild caprice
Smile on their caufe; Tudor, whofe tyrant reign
With mental freedom crown'd, the best of kings
Might envious view, and ill prefer their own!
Then Wolfey rofe, by nature form'd to seek
Ambition's trophies, by addrefs to win,
By temper to enjoy-whose humbler birth
Taught the gay fcenes of pomp to dazzle more.
Then from its towering height with horrid found Rush'd the proud abbey. Then the vaulted roofs, Torn from their walls, disclos'd the wanton scene Of monkish chastity! Each angry friar
Crawl'd from his bedded ftrumpet, muttering low
An ineffectual curfe. The pervious nooks
That, ages paft, convey'd the guileful priest
To play fome image on the gaping crowd,
Imbibe the novel day-light; and expose
Obvious the fraudful enginery of Rome.
As though this opening earth to neither realms
Should flash meridian day, the hooded race
Shudder abash'd to find their cheats display'd:
And, confcious of their guilt, and pleas'd to wave
Its fearful meed, refign'd their fair domain.
Nor yet fupine, nor void of rage, retir'd
The pet gigantic; whofe revengeful ftroke
Ting'd the red annals of Maria's reign.
When from the tenderest breast each wayward prieft.
Could banish mercy and implant a fiend!
When cruelty the funeral pyre uprear'd,
And bound religion there, and fir'd the base!
When the fame blaze, which on each tortur'd limb
Fed with luxuriant rage, in every face
Triumphant faith appear'd, and smiling hope.
O bleft Eliza! from thy piercing beam
Forth flew this hated fiend, the child of Rome;
Driven to the verge of Albion, linger'd there,
Then with her James receding, caft behind
One angry frown, and fought more fervile climes.
Henceforth they ply'd the long-continued task
Of righteous havock, covering diftant fields
With the wrought remnants of the shatter'd pile.
While through the land the musing pilgrim fees
A tract of brighter green, and in the midst
Appears a mouldering wall, with ivy crown'd;
Or Gothic turret, pride of ancient days!
Now but of ufe to grace a rural scene;
To bound our vistas, and to glad the fons
Of George's reign, referv'd for fairer times!
"Sed neque Medorum fylvæ, ditiffima terra
"Nec pulcher Ganges, atque auro turbidus Hæmus, "Laudibus Angligenûm certent: non Bactra, nec Indi, "Totaque thuriferis Panchaia pinguis arenis."
ET the green olive glad Hefperian shores;
Her tawny citron, and her orange-groves,
These let Iberia boaft; but if in vain,
To win the stranger plant's diffusive smile,
The Briton labours, yet our native minds,
Our conftant bofoms, thefe, the dazzled world
May view with envy; thefe, Iberian dames
Survey with fixt efteem and fond defire.
Haplefs Elvira! thy difaftrous fate
May well this truth explain; nor ill adorn
The British lyre; then chiefly, if the Mufe,
Nor vain, nor partial, from the fimple guife
Of ancient record catch the pentive lay;
And in lefs groveling accents give to fame.
Elvira lovelieft maid! th' Iberian realm
Could boat no purer breaft, no sprightlier mind,
No race more fplendent, and no form fo fair.
Such was the chance of war, this peerless maid
In life's luxuriant bloom, enrich'd the spoil
Of British victors, victory's noblest pride!
She, he alone, amid the wailful train,
Of captive maids, affign'd to Henry's care;
Lord of her life, her fortune, and her fame!
T
He, generous youth, with no penurious hand,
The tedious moments that unjoyous roll
Where freedom's chearful radiance fhines no more,
Eflay'd to foften; confcious of the pang
That beauty feels, to waste its fleeting hours
In fome dim fort, by foreign rule reftrain'd,
Far from the haunts of men, or eye of day!
Sometimes, to cheat her bofom of its cares,
Her kind protector number'd o'er the toils
Himfølf had worn: the frowns of angry feas,
Or hoftile rage, or faithlefs friend, more fell
Than ftorm or foe: if haply the might find
Her cares diminish'd; fruitlefs fond effay!
Now to her lovely hand, with modeft awe
The tender lute he gave: fhe not averse
Nor deftitute of skill, with willing hand
Call'd forth angelic ftrains; the facred debt
Of gratitude, she said; whose just commands
Still might her hand with equal pride obey!
Nor to the melting founds the nymph refus'd
Her vocal art; harmonious, as the strain
Of fome imprifon'd lark, who, daily chear'd
By guardian cares, repays them with a song :
Nor droops, nor deems sweet liberty refign'd.
The fong, not artlefs, had the fram'd to paint
Difaftrous paffion; how, by tyrant laws
Of idiot cuftom fway'd, fome foft-ey'd fair
Lov'd only one: nor dar'd that love reveal!
How the soft anguish banish'd from her cheek
The damask rofe full-blown
; a fever came;
And from her bofom forc❜d the plaintive tale.
Then, fwift as light, he fought the love-lorn maid,
But vainly fought her; torn by swifter fate
To join the tenants of the myrtle fhade,
Love's mournful victims on the plains below
Sometimes, as fancy spoke the pleasing task,
She taught her artful needle to display
The various pride of spring: then swift upfprung
Thickets of myrtle, eglantine, and rofe:
There might you see, on gentle toils intent,
A train of busy loves; some pluck the flower,
Some twine the garland, fome with grave grimace
Around a vacant warrior caft the wreath.
'Twas paint, 'twas life! and fure to piercing eyes
The warrior's face depictur'd Henry's mien.
Now had the generous chief with joy perus'd
The royal fcroll, which to their native home
Their ancient rights, uninjur'd, unredeem'd,
Reftor'd the captives. Forth with rapid haste
To glad his fair Elvira's ear, he fprung;
Fir'd by the blifs he panted to convey ;
But fir'd in vain! Ah! what was his amaze,
His fond diftrefs, when o'er her pallid face
Dejection reign'd, and from her lifelefs hand
Down dropt the myrtle's fair unfinish'd flower!
Speechlefs she stood, at length with accents faint,
"Well may my native fhore, she said, refound
Thy monarch's praise; and ere Elvira prove
• Of thine forgetful, flowers fhall cease to feel
The foltering breeze, and nature change her laws!"
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