Of servile custom cramp her gen'rous pow'rs ?
Would sordid policies, the barb'rous growth
Of ignorance and rapine, bow her down
To tame pursuits, to indolence and fear?
Lo ! The appeals to Nature, to the winds
And rolling waves, the sun's unwearied course,
The elements and seasons; all declare
For what th' Eternal Maker has ordain'd
The pow'rs of mao: we feel within ourselves
His energy divine: hc tells the heart,
He meant, he made us to behold and love
What he beholds and loves, the general orb
Of life and being; to be great like him,
Beneficent and active. Thus the men
Whom nature's works can charm, with God himself
Hold converse; grow familiar, day by day.
With his concepаions ; act upon his plan ;
And form to his, the relish of their souls,
PROVIDENCE.
BY THE SAME. NHABITANT of earth, to whom is giv'n
The gracious ways of Providence to learn, Receive my sayings with a nedfast ear
Know then the sov'reign Spirit of the world,
Though self-collected from eternal time,
The Bounds of true félicity complete ;
Yet by immense benignity inclin'd
To spread around him that primæval joy
Which filled himself, he rais'd his plastic arm,
And founded through the hollow depth of space
The strong, creative mandate, Strait arose
These heav'nly orbs, the glad abodes of life,
Effusive kindled by his breath divine“
Through endless forms of being. Each inhalid
From him each portion of the vital flame
In measure such, that from the wide complex
Of coexistent orders, one might rise,
One order, all involving and intire,
He too, beholding in the sacred light
Of his effential reason all the thapes
Of swift contingence, all successive ties
Of action propagated through the fum
Of possible existence, he at once,
Down the long series of eventful time,
So fix'd the dates of being, fo dispos’d,
To every living foul of every kind,
The field of motion and the hour of rett,
That all conspired to his supreme design,
To universal good: with full accord
Answering the mighty model he had chos'n,
The best and fairest of unnumber'd worlds
That lay from everlafting in the store
Of his divine conception. Nor content,
By one exertion of creative pow'r
His goodness to reveal ; through every age,
Through every moment, up the tract of time
His parent-hand with ever-new increase
Of kappiness and virtue has adorn'd
The vast harmonious frame.
1
See, I feel, thy anguish, nor my soul
Has ever known the prevalence of love, E’er prov'd a father's fondness, as this hour ; Nor, when most ardent to assert my fame, Was once my heart insensible to thee. How had it ftain's the honours of my name To hesitate a moment, and suspend My country's fate, till shameful life preferr'd By my inglorious colleague left no choice, But what in me were infamy to shun, Not virtue to arcept! Then deem no more
That of my love regardless, or thy tears,
I halte uncall'd to death. "The voice of fate,
The gods, my fame, my country, bid me bleed.
-Oh! thou dear mourner, wherefore streams afresh
That food of woe? Why heaves with sighs renew'd
That tender breast? Leonidas muft fall.
Alas ! far heavier misery impends
O'er thee and these, if foften'd by thy tears,
I shamefully refuse to yield that breath,
Which justice, glory, liberty, and Heaven
Claim for my country, for my sons, and thee.
Think on my long unalter'd love. "Reflect
On my paternal fondness. Has
my
heart
E'er known 'a pause of love, or pious care ?
Now shall that care, that tenderness be prov'd
Most warm and faithful. When thy husband dies
For Lacedæmon's safety, thou wilt share,
Thou and thy children, the diffufive good.
Should I, thus fingled from the rest of men,
Alone entrusted by th' immortal gods
With pow'r to save a people, should my soul
Desert that sacred cause, thee too 'I yield
To sorrow and to shame; for thou must weep
With Lacedæmon, must with her sustain
Thy painful portion of oppression's weight.
Thy fons behold now worthy of 'their names,
And Spartan birth. Their growing bloom must pine.
In shame and bondage, and their youthful hearts
Beat at the sound of liberty no more.
On their own virtue, and their father's fame,
When he the Spartan freedom hath confirm’d,
Before the world illustrious shall they rife,
Their country's bulwark, and their mother's joy.
Here paus’d the patriot. With religious awe
Grief heard the voice of virtue, No complaint
The folemn silence broke. Tears ceas'd to flow :
Ceased for a moment; soon again to stream,
For now in arms before the palace rang'd
His brave companions of the war demand.
Their leader's presence ; then her griefs renew'd,
Too great for utterance, intercept her sighs,
And freeze, each accent on her fault'ring tongue.
In speechless anguish on the hero's breast
She finks. On ev'ry fide his children press,
Hang on his knees, and kiss his honour'd hand.
His soul no longer struggles to confine:
Its strong compunction. Down the hero's cheek,
Down flows the manly sorrow. · Great in wues
Amid his children who inclose him round,
He stands indulging tenderness and love
In graceful tears; when thus with lifted eyes,
Address'd to Heav’n:- Thou ever-living Power,
Look down propitious, Sire of gods and, men !
And to his faithful woman, whose defert
May claim thy favour, grant the hours of peace,
And thou, my great forefather, son of Jove.
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