See how she wrings her hands, and beats her breast, | New fire informs my soul, unfelt before; And tears her useless girdle from her waist: Lo, Love himself, with heavy woes opprest! 1 mourn Pastora dead; let Albion mourn, And sable clouds her chalky cliffs adorn. The rocks can melt, and air in mists can mourn, And floods can weep, and winds to sighs can turn; The birds, in songs, their sorrows can disclose, And nymphs and swains, in words, can tell their But, oh! behold that deep and wild despair, [woes. Which neither winds can show, nor floods, nor air. See the great shepherd, chief of all the swains, Lord of these woods, and wide-extended plains, Stretch'd on the ground, and close to earth his face, Scalding with tears th' already-faded grass; To the cold clay he joins his throbbing breast, No more within Pastora's arms to rest! No more! for those once soft and circling arms Themselves are clay, and cold are all her charms; Cold are those lips, which he no more must kiss, And cold that bosom, once all downy bliss; On whose soft pillows, lull'd in sweet delights, He us'd in balmy sleep to lose the nights. Ah! where is all that love and fondness fled? Ah! where is all that tender sweetness laid? To dust must all that heaven of beauty come! And must Pastora moulder in the tomb! Ah, Death! more fierce and unrelenting far, Than wildest wolves or savage tigers are: With lambs and sheep their hungers are appeas'd, But ravenous Death the shepherdess has seiz'd. But see, I mourn Pastora dead; let Albion mourn, And sable clouds her chalky cliffs adorn. Menalcas, where a sudden light, With wonder stops my song, and strikes my sight! And where Pastora lies, it spreads around, Showing all radiant bright the sacred ground. While from her tomb, behold, a flame ascends Of whitest fire, whose flight to Heaven extends! On flaking wings it mounts, and, quick as sight, Cuts through the yielding air with rays of light; Till the blue firmament at last it gains, And, fixing there, a glorious star remains! Fairest it shines of all that light the skies, As once on Earth were seen Pastora's eyes. TO THE KING, ON THE TAKING OF NAMUR. Præsenti tibi maturos largimur honores: Or arms and war my Muse aspires to sing, And, on new wings, to heights unknown I soar. Why scorns the lowly swain his oaten reeds; Neglecting flames of love, for martial fire? William, alone, my feeble voice can raise ; What voice so weak, that cannot sing his praise! The listening world each whisper will befriend! That breathes his name, and every ear attend. The hovering winds on downy wings shall wait around, [sound. And catch, and waft to foreign lands, the flying Ev'n 1 will in his praise be heard ; For by his name my verse shall be preferr'd. Borne like a lark upon this eagle's wing, High as the spheres, I will his triumph sing; High as the head of Fame; Fame, whose exalted size From the deep vale extends up to the vaulted skies: A thousand talking tongues the monster bears, A thousand waking eyes and ever-open ears; Hourly she stalks with huge gigantic pace, Measuring the globe, like Time,with constant race: Yet shall she stay, and bend to William's praise: Of him her thousand earsshall hear triumphantlays, Of him her tongue shall talk, on him her eyes shall gaze. But lo, a change, astonishing my eyes! What forms are these I see? and whence? Can strong ideas strike so deep the sense? O sacred Poesy! O boundless power! What wonders dost thou trace, what hidden worlds explore! Through scas, earth, air, and the wide-circling sky, [eye! What is not sought and seen by thy all-piercing 'Twas now, when flowery lawns the prospect made, And now, for woods, and fields, and springing Now, thirst of conquest, and immortal fame, Does every chief and soldier's heart inflame. Defensive arms the Gallic forces bear, While hardy Britons for the storm prepare: For Fortune had, with partial hand, before Resigu'd the rule to Gallia's power. High on a rock the mighty fortress stands, And nod impending terrours o'er the plain (And great is human force and wit in ill) [skill Are join'd; on every side wide-gaping engines wait, Teeming with fire, and big with certain fate; Ready to hurl destruction from above, In dreadful roar, mocking the wrath of Jove. Thus fearful does the face of adverse power appear; But British forces are unus'd to fear: Though thus oppos'd they might, if William were not there. But hark, the voice of war! behold the storm begin! The trumpet's clangour speaks in loud alarms, Mingling shrill notes, with dreadful din Of cannons' burst, and rattling clash of arms. Clamours from Earth to Heaven, from Heaven to Earth rebound, Distinction in promiscuous noise is drown'd, Torrents of fire from brazen mouths are sent, Reddening with horrid gloom the dusky smoke, When the huge Cyclops did with moulding thunder sweat, And massive bolts on repercussive anvils beat. Amidst this rage, behold, where William stands, Undaunted, undismay'd! With face serene, dispensing dread commands; Which, heard with awe, are with delight obey'd. A thousand fiery deaths around him fly; And burning balls hiss harmless by: For ev'ry fire his sacred head must spare, Nor dares the lightning touch the laurels there. Now many a wounded Briton feels the rage Of missive fires that fester in each limb, Which dire revenge alone has power t' assuage; Revenge makes danger dreadless seem. And now, with desperate force, and fresh attack, Through obvious deaths, resistless way they make; [lay, Raising high piles of earth, and heap on heap they And then ascend; resembling thus (as far As race of men inferior may) The fam'd gigantic war, When those tall sons of Earth did Heaven aspire; (A brave, but impious fire!) Uprooting hills, with most stupendous hale, To form the high and dreadful scale. The gods, with horrour and amaze, look'd down, Beholding rocks from their firm basis rent; Mountain on mountain thrown, [ment ! With threatening hurl, that shook th' aerial firmaTh' attempt did fear in Heaven create ; Even Jove desponding sate, Till Mars, with all his force collected, stood, And pour'd whole war on the rebellious brood; Who, tumbling headlong from th' empyreal skies, O'erwhelm'd those hills, by which they thought to rise. Trembles to give the dread irruptions birth. Through this, through more, through all they go, Mounting at last amidst the vanquish'd foe. See, how they climb, and scale the steepy walls! See, how the Britons rise! see the retiring Gauls! Now from the fort, behold, the yielding flag is spread, And William's banner on the breach display'd. Hark, the triumphant shouts from every voice! The skies with acclamations ring? Hark, how around, the hills rejoice, And rocks reflected Ios sing! Hautboys and fifes and trumpets join'd Heroic harmony prepare, And charm to silence every wind, And glad the late-tormented air, But they, with wonder or with awe dismay'd, Nor, when on soaring horse he flew, to aid Descend, my Muse, from thy too-daring height, For weary art thou grown of this unwonted flight, THE BIRTH OF THE MUSE. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE CHARLES LORD HALIFAX. Dignum laude virum Musa vetat mori.-Hor. DESCEND, celestial Muse! thy son inspire Of thee to sing; infuse thy holy fire. Belov'd of gods and men, thyself disclose; Say, from what source thy heavenly power arose, Which, from unnumber'd years delivering down The deeds of heroes deathless in renown, Extends their life and fame to ages yet unknown. Time and the Muse set forth with equal pace; And both at once the destin d course shall end, One to preserve what t'other cannot save, Within whose ample bosom Fates repose Not yet the loosen'd Earth aloft was slung, When deep revolving thoughts the God retain, A beauteous scene adorns the foremost page, And fair the sheet, but yet more faintly, shines. He turns the book, and every age reviews, VOL X. Of future heroes, there, the lives he reads, In search of glory spent, and godlike deeds ; Who empires found, and goodly cities build, And savage inen compel to leave the field. All this he saw, and all he saw approv'd; When lo! but thence a narrow space remov'd, And hungry Time has all the scene defac'd, The kings destroy'd, and laid the kingdoms waste; Together all in common ruins lie, And but anon, and ev'n the ruins die. Above the waves she lifts her silver head, But soon a lowering sky comes on apace, Behold! of radiant light an orb arise, Which, kindling day, restores the darken'd skies: And see! on seas the beamy ball descends, And now its course to fair Britannia bends: Along the foamy main the billows bear The floating fire, and waft the shining sphere. Hail, happy omen! hail, auspicious sight! Thou glorious guide to yet a greater light. For see a prince, whom dazzling arms array, Pursuing closely, plows the watery way, Tracing the glory through the flaming sea. Britannia, rise! awake, O fairest Isle, From iron sleep! again thy fortunes smile. Once more look up, the mighty man behold, Whose reign renews the former age of gold. The Fates, at length, the blissful web have spun, And bid it round in endless circles run. Again shall distant lauds confess thy sway, Again the watery world thy rule obey; Again thy martial sons shall thirst for fame, And win in foreign fields a deathless name; T For William's genius every soul inspires, And seem forewarn'd of their impending fate. And fly the force of his unerring steel. Proceeding on, the Father still unfolds Succeeding leaves, and brighter still beholds; The latest seen the fairest seems to shine, Yet sudden does to one more fair resign. Th' Eternal paus'd Nor would Britannia's fate beyond explore: Enough the hero had already done, The haughty Gaul, who well, till now, might boast Enough he saw besides the coming store. sound; Incumbent o'er the main, at length, they sweep And now the sacred leaf a landscape wears, No more the forward youth pursues alarms, Nor leaves the sacred arts for stubborn arms. No more the mothers from their hopes are torn, Nor weeping maids the promis'd lover moarn. No more the widows' shricks, and orphans' cries, Torment the patient air, and pierce the skies; But peaceful joys the prosperous times afford, And banish'd Virtue is again restor'd. And he whose aruns alone sustain'd the toil, And propp'd the nodding frame of Britain's isle; By whose illustrious deeds, her leaders fir'd, Have honours lost retriev'd, and new acquir'd, With equal sway will Virtue's laws maintain, And good, as great, in awful peace shall reign; For his example still the rule shall give, And those it taught to conquer, teach to live, And shall remorseless Fates on him have power! Or Time unequally such worth devour! Then, wherefore shall the brave for fame contest? Why is this man distinguish'd from the rest? Whose soaring genius now sublime aspires, And deathless fame, the due reward, requires. Approving Heaven th' exalted virtue views, Nor can the claim which it approves refuse. The great Creator soon the grant resolves, And in his mighty mind the means revolves. He thought; nor doubted once again to choose, But spake the word, and made th' immortal Muse. Ne'er did his power produce so bright a child, On whose creation infant Nature smil'd. Perfect at first, a finish'd form she wears, And youth perpetual in her face appears. Th' assembled gods, who long expecting staid, With new delight gaze on the lovely maid, And think the wish'd-for world was well delay'd. Nor did the Sire himself his joy disguise, But stedfast view'd, and fix'd, and fed his eyes: Intent a space, at length he silence broke, And thus the god the heavenly fair bespoke: "To thee, immortal maid, from this bless'd hour, O'er Time and Fame, I give unbounded power. Thou from oblivion shalt the hero save; Shalt rise, revive, immortalize the brave. To thee, the Dardan prince shall owe his fame ;To thee, the Cæsars their eternal name. Eliza, sung by thee, with Fate shall strive, And long as Time in sacred verse survive. And yet, O Muse, remains the noblest theme; The first of men, mature for endless fame, Thy future songs shall grace, and all thy lays, Thenceforth, alone shall wait on William's praise. On his heroic deeds thy verse shall rise; Thou shat diffuse the fires that he supplies. Through him thy songs shall more sublime aspire; And he, thro' them, shall deathless fame acquire. Nor Time nor Fate his glory shall oppose, Or blast the monuments the Muse bestows." This said; no more remain'd. Th' ethereal host, Again impatient, crowd the crystal coast. The Father, now, within his spacious hands, Encompass'd all the mingled mass of seas and lands; And, having heav'd aloft the ponderous sphere, He launch'd the world to float in ambient air. ON MRS. ARABELLA HUNT, SINGING, IRREGULAR ODE. LET all be hush'd, each softest motion cease, PRIAM'S LAMENTATION AND PETITION TO ACHILLES. 275 And thou, most fickle, most uneasy part, Thou restless wanderer, my Heart, Be still; gently, ah leave, Thou busy, idle thing, to heave. Be softly stay'd: Let me be all, but my attention, dead. Leave your officious toil and strife; Come, all ye love-sick maids and wounded swains, And listen to her healing strains. A wondrons balm between her lips she wears, Of sovereign force to soften cares; Which, warbling mystic sounds, Your very tenderest moving sighs forb ar, And, lo! Silence himself is here; Methinks I see the midnight god appear. In all his downy pomp array'd, Behold the reverend shade: An ancient sigh he sits upon, A wreath of darkness round his head he wears, But hark! the heavenly sphere turns round, And Silence now is drown'd In ecstasy of sound. How on a sudden the still air is charm'd, And every soul, with transport fill'd, And with what speed and care Leave your lov'd mansions in the sky, Your loss of Heaven nor shall you need to fear; See how they crowd, see how the little cherubs skip! Those lips, where in surprise of bliss they rove; Of music and of love. Her voice, which, next to yours, is most divine. Which only breath inspir'd can reach, (teach: Of all, of all, but of the present happiness: PRIAM'S LAMENTATION AND PETITION TO ACHILLES, FOR THE BODY OF HIS SON HECTOR. TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK OF HOMER, ILIAD . Beginning at this line: Ως ἄρα φωνήσας ἀπέβη πρὸς μακρὸν Ολυμπον Ερμείας ARCUMENT INTRODUCTORY TO THIS TRANSLATION. HECTOR'S body (after he was slain) remained still in the possession of Achilles; for which Priam made great lamentation. Jupiter had pity on him; and sent Iris to comfort him, and direct him after what manner he should go to Achilles' tent; and how he should there ransom the body of his son. Priam accordingly orders his chariot to be got ready, and, preparing rich presents for Achilles, sets forward for the Grecian camp, accompanied by nobody but his herald Idaus. Mercury, at Jupiter's command, meets him by the way, in the figure of a young Grecian, and, after bemoaning his misfortune, undertakes to drive his chariot unobserved through the guards, and to the door of Achilles' tent; which having performed, he discovered himself a god, and, giving him a short instruction how to move Achilles to compassion, flew up to Heaven. So spake the god, and heavenward took his flight; Leaving Idrus there, alone he went, Heedless he pass'd through various rooms of state, Until approaching where the hero sate; Priam, unseen by these, his way pursued, |