There pip'd the shepherd to his nibbling sheep,
When th' humble roof Anchifes' fon explor'd
Of good Evander, wealth-defpifing king,
Amid the thickets: fo revolves the scene;
So Time ordains, who rolls the things of pride
From dust again to duft. Behold that heap
Of mould'ring urns (their ashes blown away,
Duft of the mighty) the fame story tell;
And at its bafe, from whence the ferpent glides
Down the
green desert street, yon hoary monk
Laments the fame, the vision as he views,
The folitary, filent, folemn fcene,
Where Cæfars, heroes, peasants, hermits lie,
Blended in duft together; where the slave
Refts from his labours; where th' infulting proud
Refigns his pow'r; the mifer drops his hoard
Where human folly fleeps.-There is a mood,
(I fing not to the vacant and the young)
There is a kindly mood of melancholy,
That wings the foul, and points her to the skies;
When tribulation cloaths the child of man,
When age defcends with forrow to the grave,
'Tis sweetly-foothing sympathy to pain,
A gently wak'ning call to health and ease.
How mufical! when all-devouring Time,
Here fitting on his throne of ruins hoar,
While winds and tempefts sweep his various lyre,
How fweet thy diapafon, Melancholy !
Cool ev'ning comes; the setting fun displays
His visible great round between yon tow'rs,
As through two fhady cliffs; away, my Muse,
Though yet the profpect pleases, ever new
In vast variety, and yet delight
The many-figur'd fculptures of the path
Half beauteous, half effac'd; the traveller.
Such antique marbles to his native land
Oft hence conveys; and every. realm and ftate
With Rome's august remains, heroes and gods,
Deck their long galleries and winding groves;
Yet mifs we not th' innumerable thefts,
Yet ftill profuse of graces teems the wafte.
Suffice it now th' Efquilian mount to reach
With weary wing, and feek the facred refts
Of Maro's humble tenement; a low
Plain wall remains; a little fun-gilt heap,
Grotefque and wild; the gourd and olive brown
Weave the light roof; the gourd and olive fan
Their am'rous foliage, mingling with the vine,
Who drops her purple clufters through the green.
Here let me lie, with pleafing fancy footh'd:
Here flow'd his fountain; here his laurels grew;
Here oft the meek good man, the lofty bard,
Fram'd the celeftial fong, or focial walk'd
With Horace and the ruler of the world;
Happy Auguftus! who fo well infpir'd
Could'st throw thy pomps and royalties aside,
Attentive to the wife, the great of foul,
And dignify thy mind. Thrice glorious days,
Aufpicious to the Muses! then rever'd,
Then hallow'd was the fount, or fecret fhade,
Or open mountain, or whatever scene
The poet chose to tune th' ennobling rhime
Melodious; ev'n the rugged fons of war,
Ev'n the rude hinds rever'd the Poet's name:
But now another age, alas! is ours-
Yet will the Muse a little longer foar,
Unless the clouds of care weigh down her wing,
Since nature's ftores are fhut with cruel hand,
And each aggrieves his brother; fince in vain
The thirfty pilgrim at the fountain asks
Th' o'erflowing wave-Enough-the plaint disdain.
See'ft thou yon fane? ev'n now inceffant Time" Sweeps her low mould'ring marbles to the duft; And Phoebus' temple, nodding with its woods Threatens huge ruin o'er the small rotund. 'Twas there beneath a fig-tree's umbrage broad, Th' aftonish'd fwains with rev'rend awe beheld Thee, O Quirinus, and thy brother-twin,
Preffing the teat within a monster's grafp
Sportive; while oft the gaunt and rugged wolf
Turn'd her stretch'd neck, and form'd your tender limbs:
So taught of Jove, ev'n the fell favage fed
Your facred infancies, your virtues, toils,
The conquefts, glories, of th' Aufonian state,
Wrapp'd in their fecret feeds. Each kindred foul,
Robust and stout, ye grapple to your hearts,
And little Rome appears. Her cots arise,
Green twigs of ofier weave the flender walls,
Green rushes spread the roofs; and here and there
Opens beneath the rock the gloomy cave.
Elate with joy Etrufcan Tiber views
Her spreading scenes enamelling his waves,
Her huts and hollow dells, and flocks and herds,
" The temple of Romulus and Remus under mount Palatin.
And gath❜ring fwains; and rolls his yellow car
To Neptune's court with more majestic train.
Her speedy growth alarm'd the states around
Jealous, yet foon by wond'rous virtue won,
They fink into her bofom. From the plough
Rofe her dictators; fought, o'ercame, return'd,
Yes, to the plough return'd, and hail'd their
For then no private pomp, no houshold state,
The public only fwell'd the gen'rous breaft.
Who has not heard the Fabian heroes fung?
Dentatus' fcars, or Mutius' flaming hand?
How Manlius fav'd the Capitol? the choice
Of steady Regulus? As yet they stood,
Simple of life; as yet feducing wealth
Was unexplor'd, and fhame of poverty
Yet unimagin'd.-Shine not all the fields
With various fruitage? murmur not the brooks
Along the flow'ry vallies? They, content,
Feasted at nature's hand, indelicate,
Blithe, in their easy tafte; and only fought
To know their duties; that their only strife,
Their gen'rous ftrife, and greatly to perform.
They through all fhapes of peril and of pain,
|