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Back to her native sky,
And with directed eagle eye
What music breathes around!'.
Unlock their streams again,
While at the warbled fong
In tears his robe to steep
Now thinks each mighty business o'er ;
Ambition, ceasing the proud pile to rear,
. II. 2.
I ftrive to catch the facred fire,
And wake thee emulous on Granta's plain,
And where the Graces thun the fordid train Scornfulof heav'n-born arts which thee and peace inspire: On life's sequester'd scenes they silent wait,
Nor heed the baseless pomp of power,
But smooth th' inevitable hour .
And teach the mortal mind to glow
II. 3. i
And fond fancies vainly feed
Sloth ignoble to disclaim i
"Tis enough: the lyre unftring. At other feet the victor palm I Aing .
In Granta's glorious fhrine ; . Where crown'd with radiance divine Her smiles shall nurse the Muse; the Muse shall lift her
UEEN of each sacred found, sweet child of air,
Who fitting thron'd upon the vaulted sky,
-: Charming thy lift'ning ear.
Or with full chorus loud ..., Which lift our holy hope, or fan the hero's fire: . Enchanting Harmony, 'tis thine to cheer :
The foul by woe which links oppreft, . .
From forrow's eye to wipe the tear, And on the bleeding wound to pour the balmy rest.
II. 'Twas II.
'Twas when the winds were roaring loud,
By savage hands condemnd to die,
All pale he heard the tempest blow,
He fix'd his weeping eye.
What can thy mighty rage withhold,
But ere the bard unpitied dies,
Again he sweeps the strings,
Slowly fad the notes arise,
Circled with the silver wave,
Ye Tritons, hear, whose blaft can swell "With mighty sounds the twisted fhell;
And you, ye sifter Syrens, hear,
Ever beauteous, ever sweet, '. '
By all the Gods who subject roll
By him who bids the winds to roar,
By him whose trident shakes the shore,
With pitying ear
The Nereids hear.
The sacred dolphin play'd, .'