None but a GARRICK can, O bard divine!
Lay a fit offering on thy hallow'd shrine.
To speak thy worth is his peculiar boast,

He best can tell it, for he feels it most.

Bleft bard! thy fame through every age shall grow,
Till Nature ceafe to charm, or Thames to flow.
Thou too, with him, whose fame thy talents raise,
Shalt share our wonder, and divide our praise;
Blended with his thy merits rife to view,

And half thy SHAKESPEAR'S fame to thee is due:
Unless the actor with the bard confpire,

How impotent his ftrength, how faint his fire!
One boasts the mine, one brings the gold to light,
And the Muse triumphs in the Actor's might;
Too weak to give her own conceptions birth,
Till all-expreffive Action call them forth.

Thus the sweet pipe, mute in itself, no found
Sends forth, nor breathes its pleafing notes around;
But if some swain with happy fkill endu❜d,

Inspire with animating breath the wood,

Wak'd into voice, it pours its tuneful strains,

And harmony divine enchants the plains.

Quod fpiro, et placeo, fi placeo, tuum eft.- Hor.

On

On the Birth-Day of SHAKESPEAR. A CENTO. Taken from his Works.

By the Same.

Natura ipfa valere, et mentis viribus excitari, et quafi quodam divino fpiritu afflari.

EACE to this meeting,

PEACE

CICERO.

Joy and fair time, health and good wishes!

Now, worthy friends, the caufe why we are met,

Is in celebration of the day that gave
Immortal Shakespear to this favour'd isle,

The most replenished fweet work of nature,
Which from the prime creation e'er she fram'd.
O thou divineft Nature! how thyself thou blazon'ft
In this thy fon! form'd in thy prodigality,

To hold thy mirror up, and give the time
form and preffure! When he speaks

Its very

Each aged ear plays truant at his tales,
And younger hearings are quite ravished,
So voluble is his difcourfe- Gentle
As Zephyr blowing underneath the violet,
Not wagging its fweet head- yet as rough,

(His noble blood enchaff'd) as the rude wind,
That by the top doth take the mountain pine,
And make him ftoop to th' vale.-'Tis wonderful
That an invifible inftinct fhould frame him

To Royalty, unlearn'd; honour untaught;
Civility not seen in other; knowledge
That wildly grows in him, but yields a crop
As if it had been fown. What a piece of work!
How noble in faculty! infinite in reason!

A combination and a form indeed,

Where every God did feem to fet his feal.

Heav'n has him now-yet let our idolatrous fancy
Still fanctify his relicks; and this day
Stand aye diftinguifh'd in the kalendar

To the last fyllable of recorded time:

For if we take him but for all in all,

We ne'er fhall look upon his like again.

L

An ODE to SCULPTURE.

ED by the Mufe, my step pervades

The facred haunts, the peaceful fhades

Where Art and Sculpture reign:

The living stones in order stand,

And marble breathe through every vein!
Time breaks his hoftile fcythe; he fighs
To find his pow'r malignant fled;

"And what avails my dart, he cries,

"Since these can animate the dead?

"Since wak'd to mimic life, again in stone
"The patriot seems to speak, the hero frown ?"
There Virtue's filent train are seen,

Fast fix'd their looks, erect their mien.
Lo! while, with more than ftoic foul,
The Attic fage exhausts the bowl,
A pale fuffufion fhades his eyes,
'Till by degrees the marble dies!
See there the injur'd poet bleed!

Ah! fee he droops his languid head!

What starting nerves, what dying pain,

What horror freezes every vein!

These are thy works, O Sculpture! thine to fhew

In rugged rock a feeling fenfe of woe.

• Socrates, who was condemned to die by poison. Seneca, born at Corduba, who, according to Pliny, was orator, poet, and philofopher. He bled to death in the bath.

Yet

Yet not alone fuch themes demand

The Phydian stroke, the Dadal hand;
I view with melting eyes

A fofter scene of grief display'd,

While from her breast the duteous maid
Her infant fire with food supplies.

In pitying stone she weeps, to fee

His fqualid hair, and galling chains :
And trembling, on her bended knee,
His hoary head her hand fuftains

While every look, and forrowing feature prove
How soft her breast, how great her filial love.

с

Lo! there the wild Affyrian queen,

With threat'ning brow, and frantic mien!
Revenge! revenge! the marble cries,

While fury sparkles in her eyes.
Thus was her aweful form beheld,
When Babylon's proud fons rebell'd;
She left the woman's vainer care,
And flew with loose difhevell'd hair

• Semiramis, cum ei circa cultum capitis fui occupatæ nunciatum effet Babylonem defeciffe; alterâ parte crinium adhuc folutâ protinus ad eam expugnandam cucurrit: nec prius decorem capillorum in ordinem quam tantam urbem in poteftatem fuam redegit: quocircà ftatua ejus Babylone pofita eft, &c. Val. Max. de Ira.

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