I. 2.

Ö nurfe of freedom, Albion, fay,
Thou tamer of defpotic sway,
What man, among thy fons around,
Thus heir to glory haft thou found?
What page, in all thy annals bright,
Haft thou with purer joy furvey'd

Than that where truth, by Hoadly's aid,
Shines through the deep unhallow'd shade
Of kingly fraud and facerdotal night?
I. 3.

To him the Teacher blefs'd

Who fent religion, from the palmy field By Jordan, like the morn to cheer the west, And lifted up the veil which heaven from earth conceal'd, To Hoadly thus He utter'd his behest:

"Go thou, and rescue my dishonour'd law "From hands rapacious and from tongues impure:

"Let not my peaceful name be made a lure "The fnares of favage tyranny to aid:

"Let not my words be impious chains to draw "The free-born foul, in more than brutal awe, "To faith without affent, allegiance unrepaid."

II. t. No

II. 1.

No cold nor unperforming hand

Was arm'd by heaven with this command.
The world foon felt it: and, on high,
To William's ear with welcome joy
Did Locke among the bleft unfold
The rifing hope of Hoadly's name :
Godolphin then confirm'd the fame ;
And Somers, when from earth he came,
And valiant Stanhope the fair fequel told *.

II. 2.

Then drew the lawgivers around,

Sires of the Græcian name renown'd)

And listening afk'd, and wondering knew,

What private force could thus fubdue
The vulgar and the great combin❜d,
Could war with facred folly wage;
Could a whole nation disengage

From the dread bonds of many an age,

And to new habits mould the public mind.

Mr. Locke died in 1704, when Mr. Hoadly was beginning to diftinguish himself in the caufe of civil and religious liberty: Lord Godolphin in 1712, when the doctrines of the Jacobite faction were chiefly favoured by thofe in power: Lord Somers in 1716, amid the practices of the nonjuring clergy against the proteftant establishment; and lord Stanhope in 1721, during the controverfy with the lower houfe of convocation.

II. 3.

For not a conqueror's fword,

Nor the strong powers to civil founders known,
Were his but truth by faithful fearch explor'd,
And social sense, like feed, in genial plenty fown.
Wherever it took root, the foul (reftor'd

To freedom) freedom too for others fought.
Not monkish craft the tyrant's claim divine,
Not regal zeal the bigot's cruel shrine

Could longer guard from reason's warfare fage;
Not the wild rabble to fedition wrought,

Nor fynods by the papal Genius taught,
Nor St. John's fpirit loofe, nor Atterbury's rage.
III. I.

But where shall recompence be found?
Or how fuch arduous merit crown'd?

For look on life's laborious scene:

What rugged spaces lie between
Adventurous virtue's early toils

And her triumphal throne! The shade
Of death, mean time, does oft invade
Her progress; nor, to us display'd,

Wears the bright heroine her expected spoils.

III. 2. Yet

III. 2.

Yet born to conquer is her power:
-O Hoadly, if that favourite hour
On earth arrive, with thankful awe
We own juft heaven's indulgent law,
And proudly thy fuccefs behold;

We 'attend thy reverend length of days,
With benediction and with praise,

And hail Thee in our public ways
Like fome great spirit fam'd in ages old.

III. 3.

While thus our vows prolong

Thy steps on earth, and when by us refign'd Thou join'ft thy seniors, that heroic throng Who refcu'd or preferv'd the rights of human kind, O! not unworthy may thy Albion's tongue Thee ftill, her friend and benefactor, name: O! never, Hoadly, in thy country's eyes, May impious gold, or pleasure's gaudy prize, Make public virtue, public freedom vile; Nor our own manners tempt us to disclaim That heritage, our nobleft wealth and fame,

Which thou haft kept intire from force and factious

C 3

[guile.

INSCRIP

INSCRIPTIONS.

T

By the Same.

I.

For a GROTTO.

O me, whom in their lays the fhepherds call Actæa, daughter of the neighbouring stream, This cave belongs. The fig-tree and the vine, Which o'er the rocky entrance downward fhoot, Were plac'd by Glycon. He with cowflips pale Primrose, and purple Lychnis, deck'd the green Before my threshold, and my shelving walls With honeysuckle cover'd. Here at noon, Lull'd by the murmur of my rifing fount, I flumber here my clustering fruits I tend ;

Or from the humid flowers, at break of day,

Fresh garlands weave, and chace from all my bounds Each thing impure or noxious. Enter-in,

O ftranger, undifmay'd. nor bat nor toad