But keep thy looks and mind ferene, All gay without, all calm within; For Fate is aw'd, and adverse fortunes fly NOULD mournful fighs, or floods of tears, prevent A chearful look, and an unconquer'd eye, The ills, unhappy men lament: Could all the anguish of my mind Remove my cares, or make but Fortune kind ; Soon I'd the grateful tribute pay, And weep my troubled thoughts away: To wealth and pleasure every figh prefer, And more than gems efteem each falling tear. II. But, fince infulting cares are most inclin'd And tears, like fruitful showers, but nourish grief; Then ceafe, fair mourner, to complain, Nor lavish fuch bright streams in vain : But ftill with chearful thoughts thy cares beguile, And tempt thy better fortunes with a smile, III. The generous mind is by its fufferings known, On the fun-beams his tender eyes, HYMN TO THE MORNING. IN PRAISE OF LIGHT. I. PARENT of beauteous benightf ARENT of Day! whofe beauteous beams of light And midst their native horrors show, Thou first effay of light, and pledge of day! II. Rival of fhade, eternal spring of light! Thou art the genuine fource of it: From thy bright unexhausted womb, The beauteous race of days and seasons come, Thy beauty ages cannot wrong, But, fpite of time, thou 'rt ever young: Thou art alone heaven's most virgin light, He's then for empire fit, and takes his foaring flight. Whofe face a veil of blushes hides from human fight. IV. Though cares affault thy breast on every fide, Yet bravely ftem th' impetuous tide: But with kind hopes fupport thy mind, III. Like fome fair bride thou riseft from thy bed, New life to all, and quickening influence. Not all the wealth fhe views in mines below IV. IV. At thy approach, Nature erects her head, V. To thee, the grateful Eaft their altars raise, Like the fair Pœnix from her balmy nek: No altar of the gods can equal thine, The air's thy richest incenfe, the whole land thy fhrine! VI. But yet thy fading glories foon decay. Thine's but a momentary stay; Too foon thou 'rt ravish'd from our fight, Borne down the ftream of day, and overwhelm'd with light. Thy beams to their own ruin hafte, Thine is a glorious, but a short-liv'd state. VII. Before th' Almighty Artist fram'd the fky, In purple fwaddling-bands it ftruggling lay, Old Chaos then a chearful smile put on, VIII. "Let there be Light!" the great Creator faid, A while th' Almighty wondering view'd, With Night," faid he, "divide th' imperial fway; HYMN TO DARKNESS. D ARKNESS, thou firft great parent of us all, Thou art our great original: Since from thy universal womb III. Say, in what diftant region doft thou dwell, From form and duller matter free, IV. Involv'd in thee, we firft receive our breath, The filent globe is ftruck with awful fear, In thy ferener fhades our ghofts delight, And court the umbrage of the Night; But fly the Morning's beams, and ficken at the Day, Though solid bodies dare exclude the light, Thou reign't in depths below, doft in the centre dwell. VIIL The sparkling gems, and ores in mines below, IX. When thou doft raife thy venerable head, And art in genuine Night array'd, Thy Negro beauties then delight; Beauties, like polish'd jet, with their own darkness bright. X. Thou doft thy fmiles impartially bestow, And know'ft no difference here below: Thou, Darkness, art the lover's kind retreat, XII. Calm as the bless'd above the Anchorites dwell, Does all thou fhad'ft below, thy numerous offspring, The pleafures Light deny, thy fhades for ever yield. XIV. When the Almighty did on Horeb stand, XV. When he appear'd arm'd in his power and might, In tempefts he gave laws, and clad himself in thee. Ere the foundation of the earth was laid, Or brighter firmament was made; Ere matter, time, or place, were known, realms alone. XVII. II, From our first drawing vital breath, We all are pofting on to the dark jail of death. Time fhall a man to his first felf restore, But, now the Moon (though gay with borrow'd light) And only some to be, as we had never been. Invades thy fcanty lot of Night: By rebel fubjects thou 'rt betray'd, The anarchy of Stars depofe their Monarch Shade. XVIII. Yet fading light its empire must refign, And Nature's power fubmit to thine: And Fate confirm thy kingdom evermore thy own. III. Say, learned Sage, thou that art mighty wife! What is the foul, the vital heat, That buoys his nature up, and does ev'n life fuftain? HUMAN LIFE. A lambent fame with heat and motion fed? SUPPOSED TO BE SPOKEN BY AN EPICURE. In Imitation of the Second Chapter of the WISDOM of SOLOMON. T To the Lord HUNSDON. A PINDARIG ODE. HEN will penurious Heaven no more allow? Is it for this he lord of all appears, And his great Maker's image bears? And even our dawn of life with forrows overcaft. Each his laborious part must have, 4t o'er this farce of life, then drop beneath the stage. Extinguish that, the whole is gone, Damn'd to a loathsome grave, and an eternal night, In one confuming minute 's loft; Scatter with winds, and flow with common air. Refolves into its native clay: For duft and afhes are its fecond birth, And that incorporates too with its great parent Earth. IV. Nor fhall our names our memories furvive, In vain we dear-bought honors leave, To make our ashes gay, and furnish out a grave. For thee our stock of youth we waste, And for a poor reverfion wait: Bankrupts and mifers to themselves they grow, To hoard up endless fame, they know not where or how. V. Fruition only cloys the appetite; Ah, think, my friends, how fwift the minutes hafte! More does the conqueft, than the prize delight: The prefent day entirely is our own, To-day, to-day, is our inheritance, "Tis all penurious Fate will give Our fons crowd on behind, our children drive us hence. A while they flourish on the bough, And drink large draughts of heavenly dew: away. VI. Bring chearful wine, and costly sweets prepare: Old age affords a thinking interval: Bid them attend below, adjourn into the grave. AGAINST ENJOYMENT, E love and hate, as reftlefs monarchs fight, WE Who boldly dare invade another's right: Yet, when through all the dangerous toils they've run, Thofe charming hopes, that made them valiant grow, Our paffions only form our happiness, One victory gain'd, another fills the mind, Who most expects, enjoys the pleasure moft, But fhow their coarfe and naufeous colours, near. Thus the fam'd Midas, when he found his ftere, THE CURSE OF BABYLON. N A PINDARIC ODE, I. OW let the fatal banner be display'd! Upon fome lofty mountain's top Go fet the dreadful standard up! And all around the hills the bloody fignals fpread. Draw forth in bright array, and mufter in the air. Start from thy lethargy, thou drowsy land, Awake, and hear his dread command! Thy black tempeftuous day comes lowering on, Was ever fuch a day before! So ftain'd with blood, by marks of vengeance know. As he the fatal business knew, A deep, a bloody red shall stain IIR III. To the deftroying fword I've faid, Go forth, Ge, fully execute my wrath! Command my hofts, my willing armies lead; For this rebellious land and all therein fhall bleed. They fhall not grieve me more, no more tranfgrefs; I will confume the ftubborn race: Yet brutes and favages I justly spare ; Ufelefs is all my vengeance there; Ungrateful man's the greater monfter far. On guiltless beafts I will the land bestow, To them th' inheritance fhall go; Thofe elder brothers now fhall lord it here below: Some relicks left of loft mankind; IV. The Medes I call to my affiftance here, Shall on the victor's triumphs wait: Shall be, with chains opprefs'd, in cruel bondage led. V. I'll vifit their diftrefs with plagues and miferies, Their beauty fhall confume, and vital fpirits feize. The fword, that shall their pangs increase, And all the throes of travail curfe with barrenness, The infants fhall expire with their firft breath, And only live in pangs of death; Ev'n Babylon, adorn'd with every grace, The beauty of the univerfe: Glory of nations! the Chaldæan's pride, And joy of all th' admiring world befide: Thou, Babylon! before whose throne The empires of the earth fall down; The proftrate nations homage pay, And vaffal princes of the world obey: Shalt in the duft be trampled low: Abject and low upon the earth be laid, And deep in ruins hide thy ignominious head. Thy ftrong amazing walls, whofe impious height The clouds conceal from human fight ; -- That proudly now their polish'd turrets rear, Which bright as neighbouring stars appear, Thy beauteous palaces (though now thy pride!) In vaft furprizing heaps fhall lie, And ev'n their ruins bear the pomp of majesty. And lie from age to age ruin'd and defolate. VIII. The day's at hand, when in thy fruitful foil His tent the wandering Arab shall not spread, Tafte not of that embitter'd flood, Tafte not Euphrates' ftreams, they're poisonous all and curft. The fhepherd to his wandering flocks shall say, When in thy palaces they graze, Ah, fly, unhappy flocks! fly this infectious place. Shall afk, Lo, where is Babylon? And when he has thy fmall remainder found, Then shall the favages and beafts of prey Her marble roofs, and every cedar room, There, where the tyrant and oppreffor bore The fpoils of innocence and blood before; There fhall the wolf and favage tiger meet, And griping vulture shall appear in state, There birds of prey fhall rule, and ravenous beafts be great. Thofe uncorrupted shall remain, Those shall alone their genuine use retain, There Violence shall thrive, Rapine and Fraud fhall reign. X. Then fhall the melancholy Satyrs groan, O'er their lamented Babylon; And ghosts that glide with horror by, And with amazement ftrike th' affrighted traveller. |