HRICE has the Spring beheld thy faded fame,
And the fourth Winter rifes on thy fhame,
Since I exulting grafp'd the votive shell,
In founds of triumph all thy praise to tell;
Bleft could my fkill through ages make thee fhine,
And proud to mix my memory with thine.
But now the caufe that wak'd my fong before,
With praife, with triumph, crowns the toil no more..
If to the glorious man, whofe faithful cares,
Nor quell'd by malice, nor relax'd by years,
Had aw'd ambition's wild audacious hate,
And dragg'd at length Corruption to her fate;
Curio was a young Roman Senator of diftinguished birth and parts, who, upon his firft entrance into the Forum, had been committed to the care of Cicero. Being profufe and extravagant, he foon diffipated a large and fplendid fortune; to fupply the want of which, he was driven to the neceffity of abetting the defigns of Cæfar against the liberties of his country, although he had before been a profeffed enemy to him.Cicero exerted himself with great energy to prevent his ruin, but without effect, and he became one of the first victims in the civil war. This epiftle was first published in the year 1744; when a celebrated patriot, after a long and at laft a fuccefsful oppofition to an unpopular minifter, had deferted the caufe of his country, and become the foremost in fupport and defence of the fame measures he had fo fteadily and for fuch a length of time contended againft. It was altered by the Author into the "Ode to Curio:" but the original poem is too curious to be omitted. N.
If every tongue its large applauses ow'd,
And well-earn'd laurels every Muse bestow'd;
If public justice urg'd the high reward,
And Freedom finil'd on the devoted Bard:
Say then, to him whose levity or luft
Laid all a people's generous hopes in dust ;`
Who taught Ambition firmer heights of power,
And fav'd Corruption at her hopeless hour;
Does not each tongue its execrations owe?
Shall not each Mufe a wreath of shame beftow?
And public justice fanctify the award ?
And Freedom's hand protect the impartial bard?
Yet long reluctant I forbore thy name,
Long watch'd thy virtue like a dying flame,
Hung o'er each glimmering spark with anxious eyes,
And wish'd and hop'd the light again would rise.
But fince thy guilt ftill more intire appears,
Since no art hides, no fuppofition clears ;
Since vengeful Slander now too finks her blast,
And the first rage of party-hate is past;
Calm as the Judge of Truth, at length I come
To weigh thy merits, and pronounce thy doom:
So may my trust from all reproach be free,
And Earth and Time confirm the fair decree.
There are who fay they view'd without amaze
Thy fad reverse of all thy former praise;
That through the pageants of a patriot's name,
They pierc'd the foulness of thy secret aim;
Or deem'd thy arm exalted but to throw
The public thunder on a private foe.
But I, whofe foul confented to thy caufe,
Who felt thy genius ftamp its own applause,
Who faw the fpirits of each glorious age
Move in thy bofom, and direct thy rage;
I fcorn'd the ungenerous glofs of flavish minds,
The owl-eyed race, whom Virtue's luftre blinds.
Spite of the learned in the ways of Vice,
And all who prove that each man has his price,
I ftill believ'd thy end was just and free;
And yet, even yet believe it-spite of thee.
Even though thy mouth impure has dar'd disclaim,
Urg'd by the wretched impotence of shame,
Whatever.filial cares thy zeal had paid
To laws infirm and liberty decay'd;
Has begg'd Ambition to forgive the show;
Has told Corruption thou wert ne'er her foe;
Has boafted in thy country's awful ear,
Her grofs delufion when she held thee dear;
How tame the follow'd thy tempeftuous call,
And heard thy pompous tales, and trufted all-
Rife from your fad abodes, ye curft of old
For laws fubverted, and for cities fold!
Paint all the nobleft trophies of your guilt,
The oaths you perjur'd, and the blood you spilts
Yet must you one untempted vilenefs own,
One dreadful palm referv'd for him alone :
With studied arts his country's praise to spurn,
To beg the infamy he did not earn,
To challenge hate when honour was his due,
And plead his crimes where all his virtue knew,
Do robes of ftate the guarded heart inclofe
From each fair feeling human nature knows?
Can pompous titles ftun the inchanted ear
To all that reafon, all that fenfe, would hear?
Elfe couldst thou e'er defert thy facred poft,
In fuch unthankful bafenefs to be loft?
Elfe could't thou wed the emptiness of vice,
And yield thy glories at an idiot's price?
When they who, loud for liberty and laws,
In doubtful times had fought their country's caufe,
When now of conqueft and dominion fure,
They fought alone to hold their fruits fecure;
When taught by thefe, Oppreflion hid the face
To leave Corruption ftronger in her place,
By filent spells to work the public fate,
And taint the vitals of the paffive state,
Till healing Wifdom fhould avail no more,
And Freedom loath to tread the poifon'd fhore;
Then, like fome guardian god that flies to fave
The weary pilgrim from an inftant grave,
Whom, fleeping and fecure, the guileful snake
Steals near and nearer through the peaceful brake;
Then Curio rofe to ward the public woe,
To wake the heedlefs, and incite the flow,
Against Corruption Liberty to arm,
And quell the enchantrefs by a mightier charm.
Swift o'er the land the fair contagion flew,
And with thy country's hopes thy honours grew.
Thee, Patriot, the patrician roof confefs'd:
Thy powerful voice the refcued merchant blefs'd;
Of thee with awe the rural hearth resounds;
The bowl to thee the grateful failor crowns;
Touch'd in the fighing fhade with manlier fires,
To trace thy steps the love-fick youth afpires;
The learn'd reclufe, who oft amaz'd had read
Of Grecian heroes, Roman patriots dead,
With new amazement hears a living name
Pretend to share in fuch forgotten fame;
And he who, fcorning courts and courtly ways,
Left the tame track of thefe dejected days,
The life of nobler ages to renew
In virtues facred from a monarch's view,
Rouz'd by thy labours from the bleft retreat,
Where focial eafe and public paffions meet,
Again afcending treads the civil scene,
To act and be a man, as thou hadst been.
Thus by degrees thy caufe fuperior grew, And the great end appear'd at last in view : We heard the people in thy hopes rejoice; We faw the fenate bending to thy voice; The friends of freedom hail'd the approaching reign Of laws for which our fathers bled in vain ; While venal Faction, ftruck with new difinay, Shrunk at their frown, and felf-abandon'd lay. Wak'd in the fhock, the Public Genius rofe, Abath'd and keener from his long repofe; Sublime in ancient pride, he rais'd the spear Which flaves and tyrants long were wont to fear: The city felt his call from man to man,
From street to street, the glorious horror ran;
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