Affuage her pains, and Albion's fears,
For Albion's life depends on her's.
Oh then to fave her from defpair,
Lean down, and liften to her prayer.
Crown all her tortures with delight,
And call th' aufpicious babe to light.
We hope from your propitious care,
All that is brave, or all that 's fair.
A youth, to match his fire in arms;
Or nymph, to match her mother's charms:
A youth, who over kings fhall reign,
Or nymph, whom kings fhall court in vain.
From far the royal flaves fhall come,
And wait from him or her their doom;
To each their different fuits fhall move,
And pay their homage, or their love.

Ye angels, come without delay;
Britannia's genius, come away.

When the foft powers of fleep fubdue
Those eyes, that shine as bright as you ;
With scenes of bliss, transporting themes!
Prompt and infpire her golden dreams :
Let vifionary bleffings rife,

And swim before her clofing eyes.
The fenfe of torture to fubdue,
Set Britain's happiness to view;
That fight her fpirits will fuftain,
And give her pleafure from her pain.

Ye angels, come without delay
Britannia's genius, come away.
อ

Come,

Come, and rejoice; th' important hour
Is paft, and all our fears are o'er :
See! every trace of anguish flies,
While in her lap the infant lies,
Her pain by fudden joy beguil'd,
She hangs in rapture o'er the child,
Her eyes o'er every feature run,
The father's beauties and her own.
There, pleas'd her image to furvey,
She melts in tenderness away;

Smiles o'er the babe, nor fmiles in vain,
The babe returns th' aufpicious smile again.
Ye angels, come without delay;
Britannia's genius, come away.

Turn heaven's eternal volume o'er,
And look for this distinguish'd hour;
Confult the page of Britain's ftate,
Before you clofe the books of fate:
Then tell us what you there have seen,
What æra's from this birth begin.
What years from this bleft hour must run,
As bright and lafting as the fun.
Far from the ken of mortal fight,
These secrets are involv'd in night:
The bleffings which this birth purfue,
Are only known to heaven and you.

The

The first Hymn of CALLIMACHUS to
JUPITER.

WHI

7HILE trembling we approach Jove's awful fhrine,
With pure libations, and with rites divine;
What theme more proper can we chufe to fing,
Than Jove himself, the great, Eternal King!
Whose word gives law to thofe of heavenly birth;
Whofe hand fubdues the rebel fons of earth.
Since doubts and dark disputes thy titles move,
Hear'ft thou, Dictean or Lycæan Jove?
For here thy birth the tops of Ida claim,
And there Arcadia triumphs in thy name.
But Crete in vain would boast a grace so high,
Whose faithless fons through meer complexion lie:
Immortal as thou art in endless bloom,

To prove their claim, they build the thunderer's tomb.
Be then Arcadian, for the towering height
Of steep Parrhafia welcom'd thee to light;

When pregnant Rhea, wandering through the wood,
Sought out her darkeft fhades, and bore the God;
The place thus hallow'd by the birth of Jove,
More than religious horror guards the grove:
The gloom all teeming females still decline,
From the vile worm, to woman, form divine.
Soon as the mother had discharged her load,
She fought a spring to bathe the recent God;
But fought in vain no living ftream fhe found,
Though fince, the waters drench the realms around.

Clear Erymanthus had not learn'd to glide,
Nor mightier Ladon drove his swelling tide,
At thy great birth, where now Iäon flows,
Tall towering oaks, and pathless forefts rofe
The thirsty favages were heard to roar,
Where Cario foftly murmurs to the thore;
Where fpreading Melas widely floats the coaft,
The flying chariot rais'd a cloud of duft.
With drowth o'er Cratis and Menope curft,
The fainting fwain, to aggravate his thirst,
Heard from within the bubbling waters flow,
In clofe refraint, and murmur from below.

Thou too, O earth, (enjoin'd the power divine)
Bring forth; thy pangs are lefs fevere than mine,
And fooner paft; the spoke, and as she spoke
Rear'd high her fcepter'd arm, and pierc'd the rock.
Wide to the blow the parting mountain rent,
The waters gufh'd tumultuous at the vent,
Impatient to be freed; amid the flood

She plung'd the recent babe, and bath'd the God.
She wrapp'd thee, mighty king, in purple bands,
Then gave the facred charge to Neda's hands,
The babe to nourish in the clofe retreat,
And in the fafe recefs, of diftant Crete.
In years and wifdom, of the nymphs who nurst
The infant thunderer, Neda was the firft;
Next Styx and Phylirè; the virgin fhar'd
For her great trust discharg'd a great reward :
For by her honour'd name the flood the calls,
Which rolls into the fea by Leprion's walls;

Το

To drink her ftreams the fons of Arcas crowd,
And draw for ever from the ancient flood.

Thee, Jove, the careful nymph to Cnoffus bore,
(To Cnoffus feated on the Cretan fhore)
With joyful arms the Corybantes heav'd,
And the proud nymphs the glorious charge receiv'd.
Above the rest in grace Adraste stood,
She rock'd the golden cradle of the God;
On his ambrofial lips the goat diftill'd
Her milky ftore, and fed th' immortal child:
With her the duteous bee prefents her spoils,
And for the God repeats her flowery toils.
The fierce Curetes too in arms advance,
And tread tumultuously their mystic dance :
And, left thy cries should reach old Saturn's ear,
Beat on their brazen fhields the din of war.

Full foon, Almighty King, thy early prime
Advanc'd beyond the bounds of vulgar time.
Ere the foft down had cloath'd thy youthful face,
Swift was thy growth in wit and every grace,
Fraught was thy mind in life's beginning flage,
With all the wisdom of experienc'd age:
Thy elder brothers hence their claims resign,
And leave th' unbounded heavens by merit thine;
For fure thofe Poets fable, who advance
The bold affertion, that capricious chance
By equal lots to Saturn's fons had given
The triple reign of ocean, hell and heaven.
Above blind chance the vast divifion lies,
And hell holds no proportion to the skies.