And ere to foft repose they go,
Teach them to their lords below:
On the green turf, their mossy neft,
The evening anthem fwells their breaft.
Thus, like thy *golden chain on high,
Thy praise unites the earth and sky,
Source of light, thou bidft the fun
On his burning axle run';
The ftars like duft around him fly,
And fhew the area of the sky;
He drives fo fwift his race above,
Mortals can't perceive him move; ..
So fmooth his course, oblique or strait,
Olympus fhakes not with his weight.
As the queen of solemn night
Fill at his vafe or orb of light,
Imparted luftre; thus we fee
The folar virtue shines by thee.
+Eirefions we'll no more,
Imaginary power, adore ;
Since, oil, and wool, and cheering wine,
And life-fuftaining bread are thine.
Thy herbage, O'great Pan, fuftains
The flocks that graze our Attic plains;
*See Homer's Iliad, book viii, the beginning.
+ This word fignifies an olive-branch, wrapt round with wool, and ornamented with grapes and different kinds of fruits, which the antients hung before their houses by way of charm, to prevent famine.
The olive, with fresh verdure crown'd,
Rifes pregnant from the ground;
At thy command it shoots and springs,
And a thousand bleffings brings,
Minerva only is thy mind,
Wisdom and bounty to mankind.
The fragrant thyme, thy bloomy role,
Herb and flower, and fhrub that grows
On Theffalian Tempe's plain,
Or where the rich Sabeans reign,
The treat the tafte, or fmell, or fight,
For food, for med'cine, or delight:
Planted by thy parent care,
Spring and fmile, and flourish there.
O ye nurses of soft dreams,
Reedy brooks, and winding streams,
Oft murmuring o'er the pebbles sheen,
Or fliding through the meadows green.
Or where through matted fedge you creep,
Travelling to your parent deep:
Sound his praife; by whom you rofe,
That fea which neither ebbs nor flows.
O ye mortal woods and groves,
Which th' enamour'd ftudent loves,
Beneath whofe venerable fhade,
For thought and friendly converse made,
Fam'd *Hecadem, old hero, lies,
Whofe fhrine is fhaded from the skies,
*Probably this word means Cadmus.
And through the gloom of filent night
Projects from far its trembling light;
You, whofe roots defcend as low,
As high in air your branches grow ;
Your leafy arms to heaven extend,
Bend your heads, in homage bend:
Cedars and pines that wave above,
And mighty oaks beloy'd of Jove :
Omen, monfter, prodigy,
Or nothing are, or Jove from thee!
Whether various nature play,
Or reinvers'd thy will obey,
And to rebel man declare
Famine, plague, or wasteful war.
Laugh, ye profane, who dare despise
The threatening vengeance of the skies,
Whilft the pious, on his guard,
Undifmay'd is ftill prepar'd;
Life or death, his mind's at rest,
Since what thou fend'ft muft needs be best,
No evil can from thee proceed:
'Tis only fuffer'd, not decreed.
Darkness is not from ti.e fun,
Nor mount the fhades till he is gone:
Then does night obfcene arise
From Erebus, and fill the skies,
Fantastic forms the air invade,
Daughters of nothing, and of shade.
Can we forget thy guardian care.
Slow to punish, prone to spare!
Thou break'st the haughty Perfian's pride,
That dar'd old Ocean's pow'r deride;
Their fhipwrecks ftrew'd th' Eubean wave,
At Marathon they found a grave.
O ye bleft Greeks who there expir'd,
For Greece with pious ardor fir'd,
What shrines or altars fhall we raife
To fecure your endless praise?
Or need we monuments supply,
To refcue what can never die?
* a greater hero far
(Unless great Socrates could err)
Shall rife to blefs fome future day,
And teach to live, and teach to pray.
Come, unknown inftructor come!
Our leaping hearts fhall make thee room;
Thou with Jove our vows fhall share,
Of Jove and thee we are the care.
O Father, King, whose heavenly face
Shines ferene on all thy race,
We thy magnificence adore,
And thy well-known aid implore:
Nor vainly for thy help we call;
Nor can we want; for thou art All!
*The Meffiah, foretold by Socrates.
O! difclos'd in all her fmiling pomp,
Her charms inspire: the freely flowing verse
In thy immortal praife, O form divine!
Smooths her mellifluent ftream. Thee, Beauty! thee
The regal dome and thy euliv'ning ray
The moffy roofs adore: thou, better fun!
For ever beameft on th' enchanted heart.
Love and harmonious wonder, and delight
Poetic, Brighteft progeny of Heaven!
How shall I trace thy features where select
The rofeate hues to emulate thy bloom?
Hafte then, my fong! through Nature's wide expanse,
Haßle then and gather all her comlieft, wealth,
Whate'er bright fpoils the florid earth contains,
Whate'er the waters or the liquid air,
To deck thy lovely labour. Wilt thou fly
With laughing Autumn to th' Atlantic ifles,
And range with him th' Hefperian field, and fee
Where'er his fingers touch the fruitful grove
The branches fhout with gold, where'er his step
Marks the glad foil the tender clusters grow
With purple ripeness, and invest each hill
As with the blufhes of an evening sky?
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