The Perfian's promis'd glory, when the realms Of Indus and the foft Ionian clime,
When Lybia's torrid champain and the rocks Of cold Imaüs join'd their fervile bands, To sweep the fons of liberty from earth. In vain : Minerva on the brazen prow Of Athens ftood, and with the thunder's voice Denounc'd her terrours on their impious heads, And fhook her burning Ægis. Xerxes faw : From Heracleum, on the mountain's height Thron'd in his golden car, he knew the fign Cœleftial; felt unrighteous hope forsake
His faltering heart, and turn'd his face with fhame. Hail, ye who fhare the ftern Minerva's power; Who arm the hand of liberty for war! And give, in fecret, the Britannic name To awe contending monarchs: yet benign, Yet mild of nature: to the works of peace More prone, and lenient of the many ills Which wait on human life. Your gentle aid Hygeia well can witness; fhe who faves, From poisonous cates and cups of pleafing bane, The wretch devoted to the entangling fnarés Of Bacchus and of Comus. Him fhe leads
To Cynthia's lonely haunts. To fpread the toils,
To beat the coverts, with the jovial horn
At dawn of day to fummon the loud hounds,
She calls the lingering fluggard from his dreams:
And where his breast may drink the mountain breeze,
And where the fervour of the funny vale
May beat upon his brow, through devious paths Beckons his rapid courfer. Nor when ease, Cool eafe and welcome flumbers have becalm'd eager bofom, does the queen of health Her pleafing care withhold. His decent board She guards, prefiding; and the frugal powers With joy fedate leads in: and while the brown Ennæan dame with Pan prefents her stores; While changing ftill, and comely in the change, Vertumnus and the Hours before him spread The garden's banquet; you to crown his feast, To crown his feaft, O Naiads, you the fair Hygeia calls and from your fhelving feats, And groves of poplar, plenteous cups ye bring, To flake his veins: 'till foon a purer tide Flows down thofe loaded channels; wafheth off The dregs of luxury, the lurking feeds
Of crude disease; and through the abodes of life
Sends vigour, fends repofe. Hail, Naiads: hail, Who give, to labour, health; to stooping age, The joys which youth had squander'd. Oft your urns Will I invoke; and, frequent in your praise, Abash the frantic Thyrfus with my fong.
For not estrang'd from your benignant arts Is he, the God, to whofe mysterious shrine My youth was facred, and my votive cares Are due; the learned Pæon. Oft when all His cordial treasures he hath fearch'd in vain; When herbs, and potent trees, and drops of balm Rich with the genial influence of the fun,
(To rouze dark fancy from her plaintive dreams, To brace the nerveless arm, with food to win Sick appetite, or hufh the unquiet breast Which pines with filent paffion) he in vain Hath prov'd; to your deep manfions he defcends. Your gates of humid rock, your dim arcades, He entereth; where impurpled veins of ore Gleam on the roof; where through the rigid mine Your trickling rills infinuate. There the God From your indulgent hands the streaming bowl Wafts to his pale-ey'd fuppliants; wafts the feeds Metallic and the elemental falts
Wash'd from the pregnant glebe. They drink: and foon Flies pain; flies inaufpicious care: and foon
The focial haunt or unfrequented shade
Hears Io, Io Pæan; as of old,
When Python fell. And, O propitious Nymphs,
Oft as for hapless mortals I implore
Your falutary springs, through every urn O fhed felected atoms, and with all
Your healing powers inform the recent wave.
My lyre fhall pay your bounty. Nor difdain That humble tribute. Though a mortal hand Excite the strings to utterance, yet for themes Not unregarded of cœleftial powers
I frame their language; and the Muses deign To guide the pious tenour of my lay. The Mufes (facred by their gifts divine) In early days did to my wondering sense Their fecrets oft reveal: oft my rais'd ear In flumber felt their mufic: oft at noon Or hour of funfet, by fome lonely stream,
In field or fhady grove, they taught me words
power from death and envy to preferve
The good man's name. whence yet with grateful mind, And offerings unprofan'd by ruder eye,
My vows I fend, my homage, to the feats
Of rocky Cirrha, where with you they dwell: their chafte companions they admit Through all the hallow'd fcene: where oft intent, And leaning o'er Caftalia's moffy verge, They mark the cadence of your confluent urns, " How tunefull, yielding gratefullest repofe To their conforted measure: 'till again, With emulation all the founding choir, And bright Apollo, leader of the fong, Their voices through the liquid air exalt,
And fweep their lofty ftrings: those aweful ftrings, That charm the minds of Gods: that fill the courts Of wide Olympus with oblivion sweet
Of evils, with immortal reft from cares; Affuage the terrours of the throne of Jove; And quench the formidable thunderbolt Of unrelenting fire. With flacken'd wings, While now the folemn concert breathes around, Incumbent o'er the fceptre of his lord
Sleeps the ftern eagle; by the number'd notes, Poffefs'd; and fatiate with the melting tone:
Sovereign of birds. The furious God of war, His darts forgetting and the rapid wheels
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