To me with filial reverence they bring,
And hang fresh trophies o'er my honour'd fpring.
Ah! I remember well yon beachen spray,
There ADDISON firft tun'd his polish'd lay;
"Twas there great CATO's form first met his eye,
In all the pomp of free-born majesty;

66

My fon, he cry'd, observe this mein with awe, "In folemn lines the ftrong resemblance draw; "The piercing notes shall strike each British ear; "Each British eye shall drop the patriot tear; "And rous'd to glory by the nervous strain, "Each Youth shall spurn at flav'ry's abject reign, "Shall guard with CATO's zeal Britannia's laws, "And speak, and act, and bleed, in freedom's caufe." The Hero fpoke; the Bard affenting bow'd, The lay to liberty and CATO flow'd; While Echo, as she rov'd the vale along, Join'd the strong cadence of his Roman song.

But ah! how Stillness slept upon the ground,
How mute Attention check'd each rifing found;
Scarce ftole a breeze to wave the leafy spray,
Scarce trill'd fweet Philomel her foftest lay,
When LOCKE walk'd musing forth; e'en now I view
'Majeftic Wisdom thron'd upon his brow,

View Candour fmile upon his modeft cheek,
And from his eye all Judgment's radiance break.
'Twas here the fage his manly zeal expreft,
Here ftript vain Falfhood of her gaudy vest;

Here Truth's collected beams first fill'd his mind,
E'er long to burft in bleffings on mankind;

E'er long to fhow to reafon's purged eye,

That "NATURE'S FIRST BEST GIFT WAS LIBERTY."
Proud of this wond'rous son, sublime I stood,
(While louder furges fwell'd my rapid flood)
Then vain as Niobe, exulting cry'd,

Iliffus! roll thy fam'd Athenian tide;

Tho' Plato's steps oft mark'd thy neighb'ring glade,
Tho' fair Lyceum lent it's awful shade,
Tho' ev'ry Academic green imprest

It's image full on thy reflecting breast,
Yet my pure stream shall boast as proud a name,

And Britain's ISIS flow with Attic fame.

Alas! how chang'd! where now that Attic boast? See! Gothic Licence rage o'er all my

coast;

See! Hydra Faction spread it's impious reign,
Poison each breast, and madden ev'ry brain:
Hence frontlefs crowds, that not content to fright
The blushing Cynthia from her throne of night,
Blaft the fair face of day; and madly bold,
To Freedom's foes infernal orgies hold;
To Freedom's foes, ah! fee the goblet crown'd,
Hear plaufive shouts to Freedom's foes refound;
The horrid notes my refluent waters daunt,
The Echoes groan, the Dryads quit their haunt;
Learning, that once to all diffus'd her beam,
Now sheds, by stealth, a partial private gleam,

In fome lone cloister's melancholy fhade,
Where a firm few fupport her fickly head,
Defpis'd, infulted by the barb'rous train,
Who fcour like Thracia's moon-ftruck rout the plain,
Sworn foes like them to all the Muse approves,
All Phoebus favours, or Minerva loves.

Are these the fons my foft'ring breast must rear,
Grac'd with my name, and nurtur'd by my care?
Muft these go forth from my maternal hand
To deal their infults thro' a peaceful land,
And boaft while Freedom bleeds, and Virtue groans,
That "ISIS taught Rebellion to her Sons ?"
Forbid it heav'n! and let my rifing waves
Indignant fwell, and whelm the recreant slaves;
In England's cause their patriot floods employ,
As Xanthus delug'd in the cause of Troy.
Is this deny'd then point fome fecret way
Where far far hence thefe guiltlefs ftreams may ftray;
Some unknown channel lend, where nature spreads
Inglorious vales, and unfrequented meads,

There, where a Hind scarce tunes his ruftic ftrain,
Where fcarce a Pilgrim treads the pathless plain,
Content I'll flow; forget that e'er my tide
Saw yon majestic ftru&tures crown it's fide;
Forget, that e'er my rapt attention hung
Or on the Sage's or the Poet's tongue;
Calm and refign'd my humbler lot embrace,
And pleas'd, prefer oblivion to difgrace.

ON

N clofing flow'rs when genial gales diffuse The fragrant tribute of refreshing dews; When chaunts the milk-maid at her balmy pail, And weary reapers whistle o'er the vale; Charm'd by the murmurs of the quiv'ring fhade, O'er ISIS' willow-fringed banks I ftray'd: And calmly mufing thro' the twilight way, In penfive mood I fram'd the Doric lay. When lo! from opening clouds a golden gleam Pour'd fudden fplendours o'er the fhadowy ftream; And from the wave arofe it's guardian queen, Known by her fweeping ftole of gloffy green;

While in the coral crown, that bound her brow, Was wove the Delphic laurel's verdant bough.

As the fmooth furface of the dimply flood The filver-flipper'd ISIS lightly trod, From her loose hair the dropping dew fhe prefs'd, And thus mine ear in accents mild address'd.

No more, my son, the rural reed employ, Nor trill the trifling ftrain of empty joy; No more thy love-refounding fonnets fuit To notes of paft'ral pipe, or oaten flute. For hark! high-thron'd on yon majestic walls, To the dear Mufe afflicted Freedom calls: When Freedom calls, and OXFORD bids thee fing, Why stays thy hand to strike the founding string? While thus, in Freedom's and in Phoebus' fpite, The venal fons of flavish CAM unite;

To fhake yon tow'rs, when Malice rears her creft, Shall all my fons in filence idly rest?

Still fing, O CAM, your fav'rite Freedom's caufe Still boaft of Freedom, while you break her laws : To pow'r your fongs of Gratulation pay, To courts address soft flattery's foothing lay. What tho' your gentle MASON's plaintive verse Has hung with sweetest wreaths MUSEUS' hearse; What tho' your vaunted bard's ingenuous woe, Soft as my stream, 'in tuneful numbers flow? Yet ftrove his Muse, by fame or envy led, To tear the laurels from a fifter's head?

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