Or wilt thou rather ftoop thy vagrant plume, Where gliding thro' his daughter's honour'd fhades The smooth Peneus from his glaffy flood Reflects purpureal Tempe's pleasant scene? Fair Tempe! haunt belov'd of sylvan pow'rs, Of Nymphs and Fauns, where in the Golden Age They play'd in fecret on the fhady brink
With ancient Pan, while round their choral steps Young hours and genial gales with conftant hand Shower'd bloffoms, odour's, fhow'r'd ambrofial dews, And springs Elyfian bloom. Her flow'ry store To thee nor Tempe fhall refufe nor watch Of winged Hydra guard Hefperian fruits From thy free fpoil. O! bear then unreprov'd Thy fmiling treafures to the green recefs Where young Dione ftays with sweetest airs Entice her forth to lend her angel form For Beauty's honour'd image. Hither turn Thy graceful footsteps; hither, gentle Maid! Incline thy polish'd forehead; let thy eyes Effufe the mildness of their azure dawn, And may the fauning breezes waft afide Thy radiant locks, difelofing as it bends With airy foftnefs from the marble neck The cheek fair-blooming and the rofy lip, Where winning fmiles and pleasures fweet as Love With fanctity and wisdom temp'ring blend Their foft allurement: then the pleafing force
Of nature, and her kind parental care. Worthier I'd fing; then all th' enamour'd youth, With each admiring virgin, to my lyre
Should throng attentive, while I point on high Where Beauty's living image, like the Morn That wakes in Zeyhur's arms the blushing May Moves onward; or as Venus when the ftood Effulgent on the pearly car, and smil'd
Fresh from the deep, and conscious of her form, To fee the Tritons tune their vocal fhells,
And each cerulean fifter of the flood
With loud acclaim attend her o'er the waves To feek the Idalian bow'r, Ye smiling band Of youths and virgins! who through all the maze Of young defire with rival steps purfue This charm of beauty, if the pleafing toil Can yield a moment's refpite, hither turn Your favourable ear, and truft my words. I do not mean to wake the gloomy form Of Superstition dreft in Wisdom's garb To damp your tender hopes; I do not mean To bid the jealous Thund'rer fire the heav'ps, Or fhapes infernal rend the groaning earth, To fright you from your joys; my cheerful fong With better amens calls you to the field, Pleas'd with your generous ardour in the chafe And warm like you. Then tell me, for ye know, Does beauty ever deign to dwell where health
And active ufe are firangers? Is her charm Confefs'd in aught whose most peculiar ends Are lame and fruitlefs? Or did Nature mean This pleafing call the herald of a lie, To hide the fhame of difcord and disease, And catch with fair hypocrify the teart Of idle Faith O'no! with better cares Th' indulgent mother, confcious how infirm Her offspring tread the paths of good and ill, By this illuftrious image, in each kind Still moft illuftrious where the object holds Its native pow'rs most perfect, fhe by this Illumes the headstrong impulfe of defire, And fanctifies his choice. The gen'rous glebe Whese bofom fmiles with verdure, the clear track Of ftreams delicious to the thirfty foul,
The bloom of nectar'd fruitage ripe to fenfe, And ev'ry charm of animated things, Are only pledges of a ftate fincere, Th' integrity and order of their frame When all is well within, and ev'ry end Accomplished. Thus was beauty fent from Heav'n The lovely ministress of Truth and Good
In this dark world; for Truth and Good are one, And Beauty dwells in them, and they in her With like participation: wherefore then, O fons of Earth! would you diffolve the tie ?
O! wherefore with a rash impetuous aim, Seek ye thofe flow'ry joys with which the hand Of lavish Fancy paints each flatt'ring scene Where beauty feems to dwell, nor once inquire Where is the fanction of eternal truth, Or where the feal of undeceitful good, To fave your fearch from folly! Wanting these Lo! Beauty withers in your void embrace, And, with the glitt'ring of an idiot's toy, Did fancy mock your vows. Nor let the gleam Of youthful hope, that fhines upon your hearts, Be chill'd or clouded at the awful task,
To learn the lore of undeceitful good,
And truth eternal. Though the pois'nous charms Of baleful fuperftition guide the feet
Of fervile numbers through a dreary way
To their abode, through deferts, thorns and mire, And leave the wretched pilgrim all forlorn To mufe at laft amid the ghoftly gloom
Of graves, and hoary vaults, and cloifter'd cells, To walk with fpectres through the midnight fhade, And to the screaming owls accurfed fong
Attune the dreadful workings of his heart, Yet be not ye difmay'd: a gentler star
Your lovely fearch illumines. From the grove Where Wisdom talk'd with her Athenian fons ambitious hand intwine a wreath
Of Plato's olive with the Mantuan bay,
Then fhould pow'rful verfe at once difpel
Those monkish horrors, then in light divine Difclofe th' Elyfan profpect, where the steps Of those whom Nature charms thro' blooming walks, Through fragrant mountains and poetic ftreams, Amid the train of fages, heroes, bards,
Led by their winged Genius and the choir Of laurell'd Science and harmonious Art, Proceed exulting to th' eternal shrine
Where Truth confpic'ous with her fifter twins, The undivided partners of her fway,
With Good and Beauty reigns. O let not us, Lull'd by luxurious Pleasure's languid strain, Or crouching to the frowns of bigot Rage, O let us not a moment pause to join
That godlike band! and if the gracious pow'r Who first awaken'd my untutor'd fong, Will to my invocation breathe anew.
The tuneful fpirit, then through all our paths Ne'er fhall the found of this devoted lyre Be wanting; whether on the rofy mead,
When Summer fmiles, to warn the melting heart Of Luxury's allurement, whether firm Against the torrent and the ftubborn hill To urge bold Virtue's unremitted nerve, And wake the ftrong divinity of foul
That conquers Chance and Fate, or whether ftruck For founds of triumph to proclaim her toils
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