Or Boëdromian hear'st thou pleas'd, or Clarian,
Phoebus, great king? for different are thy names,
As thy kind hand has founded many cities,
Or dealt benign thy various gifts to man.
Carnean let me call thee; for my country
Calls thee Carnean: the fair colony
Thrice by thy gracious guidance was transported,
Ere fettled in Cyrene; there w' appointed
Thy annual feasts, kind God, and bless thy altars
Smoaking with hecatombs of flaughter'd bulls;
As Carnus, thy high priest and favour'd friend,
Had erft ordain'd; and with mysterious rites,
Our great forefathers taught their fons to worship.
Iö Carnean Phoebus! Iö Pean!
The yellow crocus there and fair narciffus Referve the honours of their winter-store, To deck thy temple; till returning fpring Diffuses Nature's various pride; and flowers Innumerable, by the foft fouth-weft
Open'd, and gather'd by religious hands,
Rebound their fweets from th' odoriferous pavement.
Perpetual fires shine hallow'd on thy altars.
When annual the Carnean feaft is held :
The warlike Libyans, clad in armour, lead
The dance; with clanging fwords and fhields they beat
The dreadful measure: in the chorus join
Their women, brown but beautiful: fuch rites
To thee well pleafing. Nor had yet thy votaries,
From Greece tranfplanted, touch'd Cyrene's banks,
And lands determin'd for their last abodes;
But wander'd through Azilis' horrid forest
Difpers'd; when from Myrtufa's craggy brow,
Fond of the maid, aufpicious to the city,
Which muft hereafter bear her favour'd name,
Thou gracious deign'ft to let the fair-one view
Her typic people; thou with pleasure taught'ft her
To draw the bow, to flay the fhaggy lion,
And stop the fpreading ruin of the plains.
Happy the nymph, who, honour'd by thy paffion,
Was aided by thy power! The monstrous Python
Durft tempt thy wrath in vain: for dead he fell,
To thy great ftrength and golden arms unequal.
Iö! while thy unerring hand elanc'd
Another, and another dart; the people
Joyfully repeated Lö! lö Pean!
Elance the dart, Apollo: for the fafety
And health of man, gracious thy mother bore thee.
Envy, thy lateft foe, fuggefted thus:
Like thee I am a power immortal; therefore
To thee dare speak. How canft thou favour partial
Thofe poets who write little? Vaft and great
Is what I love: the far-extended ocean
To a small rivulet I prefer. Apollo
Spurn'd Envy with his foot; and thus the God:
Dæmon, the head-long current of Euphrates,
Affyrian river, copious runs, but muddy;
And carries forward with his ftupid force
Polluting dirt; his torrent still augmenting,
His wave ftill more defil'd: mean while the nymphs
Meliffan, facred and reclufe to Ceres,
Studious to have their offerings well receiv'd,,
And fit for heavenly use, from little urns
Pour streams felect, and purity of waters.
Iö! Apollo, mighty king, let Envy
Ill-judging and verbose, from Lethe's lake,
Draw tuns unmeasurable; while thy favour
Adminifters to my ambitious thirft
The wholesome draught from Aganippe's fpring-
Genuine, and with foft murmurs gently rilling
Adown the mountains where thy daughters haunt.
CH A RIT Y.
A PARAPHRASE on the Thirteenth Chapter of the First Epistle to the CORINTHIANS.
ID fweeter founds adorn my flowing tongue,
Than ever man pronounc'd, or angels fung;.
Had I all knowledge, human and divine,
That thought can reach, or science can define;
And had I power to give that knowledge birth,.
In all the speeches of the babbling earth;
Did Shadrach's zeal my glowing breaft infpire,
To weary tortures, and rejoice in fire;
Or had I faith like that which Ifrael faw
When Mofes gave them miracles and law :
Yet, gracious Charity! indulgent guest,
Were not thy power exerted in my breast;
Those speeches would fend up unheeded prayer;
That scorn of life would be but wild despair :
A tymbal's found were better than my voice :
My faith were form: my eloquence were noife.
Charity, decent, modeft, eafy, kind,
Softens the high, and rears the abject mind;
Knows with just reins and gentle hand to guide,
Betwixt vile shame and arbitrary pride.
Not foon provok'd, the eafily forgives;
And much the fuffers, as the much believes.
Soft
peace fhe brings where-ever fhe arrives;
She builds our quiet, as fhe forms our lives;
Lays the rough paths of peevish nature even;
And opens in each heart a little Heaven.
Each other gift, which God on man bestows,
Its proper bound and due restriction knows;
To one fixt purpose dedicates its power;
And, finishing its act, exifts no more.
Thus, in obedience to what Heaven decrees,
Knowledge fhall fail, and Prophecy fhall cease;
But lafting Charity's more ample fway,
Nor bound by time, nor subject to decay,
In happy triumph shall for ever live,
And endless good diffufe, and endless praise receive.
As, through the artift's intervening glafs,
Our eye obferves the diftant planets pass;
A little we difcover, but allow,
That more remains unseen, than art can show:
So, whilst our mind its knowledge would improve
(Its feeble eye intent on things above),
High as we may, we lift our reafon up,
By Faith directed, and confirm'd by Hope:
Yet we are able only to furvey
Dawning of beams, and promises of day.
Heaven's fuller effluence mocks our dazzled fight;
Too great its fwiftnefs, and too strong its light.
But foon the mediate clouds fhall be difpell'a;
The fun fhall foon be face to face beheld,
In all his robes, with all his glory on,
Seated fublime on his meridian throne.
Then conftant Faith and holy Hope fhall die,
One loft in certainty, and one in joy:
Whilst thou, more happy power, fair Charity,
Triumphant fifter, greatest of the three,
Thy office and thy nature ftill the fame,
Lafting thy lamp, and unconfum'd thy flame,
Shalt ftill furvive
Shalt ftand before the host of Heaven confeft,
For ever bleffing, and for ever bleft.
IT oft' to many has fuccessful been,
Upon his arm to let his miftrefs lean;
Or with her airy fan to cool her heat,
Or gently fqueeze her knees, or prefs her feet.
All public fports, to favour young defire,
With opportunities like this confpire.
Ev'n where his fkill the gladiator shows,
With human blood where the Arena flows;
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