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Nor yet, O Fame, dost thou display
All the triumphs of this day; FOR THE BIRTH-DAY OF HER ROYAL HICUNESS THE
More wonders yet arise to sight:
See! o'er these rites what mighty power presides,
Behold, to thee his early steps he guides; 8T. DAVID'S DAY, TUE FIRST OF MARCU, 1715.16. What noble ardour does his soul excite!
Henceforth, when to the listening I'niverse
Thou number'st o'er my princes of renown,
The second hope of Britain's crown,
When my great Edward's deeds thou shalt rehearse,
And tell of Cressy's well-fought plain,
Thy golden trumpet sound again!
The brave Augustus shall renew thy strain, ESTABLISHED IN HONOUR OF HER ROYAL Gusess's And Oudenarda's fight immortalize the verse. BIRTI! DAY, AND CF THE PRINCIPALITY OF WALES.
AIR, WITH A HARP. Salve lata dies ! meliorque revertere scmper,
Heavenly Muses ! tune your lyres,
Grace the hero's glorious name.
Every breast, with joy abounding,
Seems to share the hero's Hame.
O thou, with every virtue orown'd,
Britannia's father, and her king renown'd!
Thus in thy offspring greatly blest,
While, through th' extended royal line,
Thou seest thy propagated lustre shine,
What secret raptures fill thy breast !
When, in the diamond, with full blaze,
He views his own paternal rays, And, with thy trumpet's swelling sound,
And all his bright reflected day. To all Britannia's realms around
CAMBRIA. The double festival proclaim.
Hail, source of blessings to our isle!
While gioomy clouds shall take their flight, The goddess of immortal Fame
Shot through by thy victorious light, Shall, with her trumpet's swelling sound, Propitious ever on thy Britous smile! To all Britannia's realms around
BOTH VOICES. The double festival proclaim.
To joy, to triumphs, dedicate the day.
CAMBRIA. O'er Cambria's distant hills let the loud notes re- Rise, goddess of immortal Fame, bound !
And, with thy trumpet's swelling sound, Each British soul be rais'd, and every cye be gay!
To all Britannia's realms around
The double festival proclaim.
The goddess of immortal Fame
Shall, with her trumpet's swelling sound,
To all Britannia's realms around
The double festival proclaim.
BOTH VOICES. See, Carolina's natal star arise,
O'er Cambria's distant hills let the loud notes reAnd with new beams adorn thy azure skics!
bound! Though on her virtues I should ever dwell,
Each British sonl be rajs'd, and every eye be gay!
To joy, to triumphs, dedicate the day.
Detraction from her presence fies;
EITRACT OF A LETIER
MR. HUGHES TO THE LORD CHANCELLOR
-" This little poem was writ by the accident Happy isle! such gifts possessing!
of having Horace for my companion in a confineBritain, ever own the blessing!
inent by sickness, and fancying I had discovered Carolina's charms are thine.
a new sense of one of his odes, for which I have
found your lordship's great indulgence and parti-, Whether the Muse vouchsafe t'inspire ality to me, the best exposition.
My breast with the celestial fire; "Perhaps we never read with that attention, as Whether my verse be fill'd with flame, when we think we have found something applicable Or I deserve a poet's name, to ourselves. I am now grown fond enough of Let Fame be silent; only tell this sense to believe it the true one, and have drawn | That generous Cowper loves me well. two or three learned friends (to whom I have mentioned it) into my opinion.
Through Britain's realms I shall be known “. The ode, your lordship will see, is that in By Cowper's merit, not my own. which Horace feigns hiinself turned into a swan.
And when the tomb my dust shall hide, It passes (for aught I know universally) for a com
Stripp'd of a mortal's little pride, pliment on himself, and a mere enthusiastic rant
Vain pomp be spar'd, and every tear; of the poet in his own praise, like his Exegi mo
Let but some stone this sculpture bear: numentum, &c. I confess, I had often slightly
“ Here lies his clay, to earth consign'd, read it in that view, and have found every one 1 To whom great Cowper once was kind." have lately asked, deceived by the same opinion, wbich I cannot but think spoils the ole, and sinks it to nothing; I had almost said, turns the swan into a zoose.
HUAT IS MAN? " The grammarians seem to have fallen into this mistake, by wholly overlooking the reason of his O son of man! O creature of a day! rapture, vize its being addressed to Macenas; and
Proud of vain wisdom, with false greatness gay! hare prefaced it with this, and the like general Hair of thy father's vice, to whose bad store inscriptions-Vaticinatur carminum suorun im- Thy guilty days are spent in adding more; mortalitatem, &c. which I think is not the sub- Thou propagated folly!-what in thec ject.
Could Heaven's Supreine, could perfect Wisdom see, "I am very happy in the occasion which showed To fix one glance of his regarding eye? it me in a quite different sense from what I had Why art thou chose the favourite of the sky? ever apprehended, till I had the honour to be
While angels wonder at the mercy known, knoen to your lordship; I am sure a much more
And scarce the wretch hiinself the debt immense advantageous one to the poet, as well as more just
will own! to his great patron. If I have exceeded the liberty of an imitator, in pursuing the same hint further, to make it less doubtful, yet his favourers will for
BOILEAU, give me, when I own, I have not on this occasion
DANS SA I. EPISTRE AU ROY. so much thought of emulating his poetry, as of rivaling his pride, by the arubition of being known | Pou're
TrQuoi ces elephans, ces armes, ce bagage, as, my lord,
Et ces vaisseaux tout prests à quitter le rivage ? your lordship's most obliged,
Disoit au roi Pyrrhus, un sage confident,
Je vais, lui dit ce prince, à Rome où l'on m'apelle.
Et digne seulement d'Alexandre ou de vous,
Mais quand nous l'aurons prise, eh bien, que ferons-
Sans doute, ils sont à nous: est-ce tout ? La Sicile
Syracuse recoit nos vaisseaux dans son port.
En demeurés-vous là ? Dés que nous l'aurons prise, IN ALLUSION TO HORACE, LIB. II. ODE xx. Il ne faut qu'un bon vent & Carthage est conquise : l's rais d, transported, chang'd all o'er!
Les chemins sont ouverts: qui peut nous arrester? Prepar'd, a towering swan, to soar
Je vous entens, scigneur, nous allons tout dompter :
Nous allons traverser les sables de Lybie;
Asservir en passant l'Egypte, l'Arabie ;
Courir delà le Gange en de nouveaux pais ; New tracks, and boldly mount the sky;
Faire trembler le Scythe aux bords du Tanais; Nor Envy, nor IIl-fortune's spite,
Et ranger sous nos loix tout ce vaste Hemisphere; Shall stop my course, or damp my flight.
Mais de retour entin, que pretendez-vous faire?
Alors, cher Cincas, victorieux, contens, Shall I, obscure or disesteem'd,
Vous pourrons rire à l'aise, & prendre du bon temps. Of vulgar rank henceforth be deem'd?
Hé, seigneur, des ce jour, sans sortir de l'Epire, Or vainly toil my name to save
Du matin jusqu'au soir qui vous défend de rire?
"What mean these clephants, arms, warlike stora, So common wreath shall bind my brow.
And all these ships, propard tu lare the shore 218
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABI.E
IN HIS FIRST EPISTLE TO LEWIS XIV.
Thus Cyneas, faithful, old, experienc'd, wise, Begin, and Echo shall the song repeat; Address'd king Pyrrhus ;-thus the king replies: While, skreen'd from August's feverish heat, “ 'Tis glory calls us hence; to Rome we go.” Beneath this spreading elm I lie, “For what?”—“ To conquer "--"Rome's a noble And view the yellow harvest far around, A prize for Alexander fit, or you:
[foe, The neighbouring fields with plenty crown'd, But, Rome reduc'd, what next, sir, will you do?”- | And, over head, a fair unclouded sky. “ The rest of Italy my chains shall wear.”
The wood, the park's romantic scene, And is that all?"_" No, Sicily lies near;
The deer, that, innocent and gay, See how she stretches out her beauteous arms,
On the soft turf's perpetual green And tempts the victor with unguarded charms !
Pass all their lives in love and play, In Syracusa's port this fleet shall ride."
Are various objects of delight, “ 'Tis well—and there you will at last abide ?”– That sport with fancy, and invite “ No; that subdu'd, again we'll hoist our sails,
Your aid, the pleasure to complete : And put to sea; and, blow but prosperous gales, Begin-and Echo shall the song repeat. Carthage must soon be ours, an easy prey,
Hark!--the kind inspiring powers The passage open :- what obstructs our way?”—
Answer from their secret bowers, “Then, sir, your vast design I understand,
Propitious to my call ! To conquer all the earth, cross seas and land,
They join their choral voices all, O’er Afric's spacious wilds your reign extend,
To charm my solitary hours. Beneath your sword make proud Arabia bend;
“Listen,” they cry, “thou pensive swain! Then seek remoter worlds, where Ganges pours
Though much the tuneful sisters love His swelling stream; beyond Hydaspes' shores,
The fields, the park, the shady grove: Through Indian realms to carry dire alarms,
The fields, and park, and shady grove, And make the hardy Scythian dread your arms.
The tuneful sisters now disdain, But say—this wondrous race of glory run,
And choose to soothe thee with a sweeter strain : When we return, say, what shall then be done?”
Molinda's praises shall our skill employ, “ Then, pleas’d, my friend, we'll spend the joyful Molinda, Nature's pride, and every Muse's joy! day
The Muses triumph'd at her birth, In full delight, and laugh our cares away.”
When, first descending from her parent Skies, And why not now? Alas! sir, need we roam
This star of beauty shot to Earth. For this so far, or quit our native home?
Love saw the fires that darted from her eyes, No-let us now each valued bour employ,
He saw, and smil'd-the winged boy Nor, for the future, lose the present joy.”
Gave early omens of her conquering fame,
And to his mother lisp'd her name,
“ Molinda!”- Nature's pride, and every Muse's joy. AN IMAGE OF PLEASURE.
Say, beauteous Asted! has thy honour'd shade
Ever receiv'd that lovely maid?
That shining festal day of happiness !
For if the lovely maid was here, On this fair poplar bough I'll hang thee high,
April himself, though in so fair a dress While the gay fields all soft delights inspire,
He clothes the meads, though his delicious showers And not one cloud deforms the smiling sky.
Awake the blossoms and the breathing flowers, While whispering gales, that court the leaves and And new-create the fragrant year; flowers,
April himself, or brighter May, Play thro’ thy strings, and gently make them sound, Assisted by the god of day, Luxurious I'll dissolve the flowing hours,
Never made your grove so gay, In balmy slumbers on the carpet ground.
Or half so full of charms appear.
Wbatever rural seat she now doth grace, But see what sudden gloom obscures the air!
And shines a goddess of the plains, What falling'showers, impetuous, change the day!
Imperial Love new triumphs there ordains, Let's rise, my Lyre—Ah, Pleasure, false as fair!
Removes with her from place to place, How faithless are thy charms, how short thy stay!
With her he keeps his court, and where she lives
There circling Pleasure ever flows :
Good-humour, Wit, and Music's soft delight, Ye Muses, that frequent these walks and shades,
The shorten'd minutes there beguile,
And sparkling Mirth, that never looks so bright, Which Howard's happy genius chose;
As when it lightens in Molinda's smile. Where, taught by you, his lyre he strung, and oft, like Philomel, in dusky glades,
Thither, ye guardian powers (if such there are, Sweet amorous voluntaries sung !
Deputed from the sky O say, ye kind inspiring powers!
To watch o'er human-kind with friendly care), With what melodious strain
Thither, ye gentle spirits, fly! Will you indulge my pensive vein,
If goodness, like your own, can move And charm my solitary hours?
Your constant zeal, your tenderest love,
For ever wait on this accomplish'd fair! The watery world beheld, with pleas'd surprise. Shield her from every ruder breath of air, O'er its wide waste new tracks of light arise; Nor let invading Sickness come
The winds were hush'd, the floods forgot to move, To blast those beautjes in their bloom. And Nature own'd the auspicious queen of love. May no misguided choice, no hapless doom, Disturb the heaven of her fair life
Henceforth no more the Cyprian isle be nam'd, With clouds of grief, or showers of melting tears;
Though for th' abode of that bright goddess fam'd; Let harsh Unkindness, and ungenerous Strife,
Jamaica's happier groves, conccald so long Repining Discontent, and voting Fears,
Through ages past, are now the pocts song. With every shape of woe, be driven away,
The Graces there, and Virtues, fix their throne; Like ghosts prohibited the day.
Urania makes th' adopted land her own. Let Peace o'er her his dovelike wings display, The Muse, with her in thought transported, sees and smiling joys crown all her blissful years! The opening scene, the bloomy plants and trees,
By brighter skies rais'd to a nobler birth,
At her approach, like courtiers doubly gay
To grace the pomp of some lov'd prince's day, ON HIS PAINTINGS.
The gladden'd soil in all its plenty shines,
New spreads its branching palms, and new adorns WHILE o'er the cloth thy happy pencil strays,
its pines; And the pleas'd eye its artful course surveys, With gifts prepares the shining guest to meet, Behold the magic power of shade and light ! And pours its verdant offerings at her feet. A new creation opens to our sight.
As in the fields with pleasure she appears, Here tufted groves rise boldly to the sky,
Smiles on the labourers, and their labours cheers, There spacious lawns, more distant, charm the eye; The luscious canes with sweeter juices flow, The crystal lakes in borrow'd tinctures shine, The melons ripen, and the citrons blow, And misty hills the fair horizon join,
The golden orange takes a richer dye, Lost in the azure borders of the day,
And slaves forget their toil, while she is by. Like sounds remote, that die in air away.
Not Ceres' self more blessings could display, The peopled prospect various pleasure yields, When thro' the Earth she took her wandering way, Sheep grace the hills, and herds or swains the fields; Far from her native coast, and all around Harmonious order o'er the whole presides,
Diffus'd ripe harvests through the teeming ground. And Nature crowns the work, which Judgment
Mean while our drooping vales, deserted, mourn, guides.
Till happy years bring on her wish'd return;
So when, of late, our Sun was veild from sight
In dark eclipse, and lost in sudden night, Sach, and so various, thy extensive hand,
A shivering cold each heart with horrour thrillid, Oft in suspense the pleas'd specators stand,
The birds forsook the skies, the herds the field; Doubtful to choose, and fearing still to err,
But when the conquering orb, with one bright ray, When to thyself they would thyself prefer.
Broke thro' the gloom, and reinthron'd the day, So when the rival gods at Athens strove, By wondrous works, their power divine to prove,
The herds reviv'd, the birds renew'd their strains, As Neptune's trident strook the teeming earth,
Unusual transports rais’d the cheerful swains, Here the proud horse upstarted to his birth;
And joy, returning, echo'd through the plains. And there, as Pallas bless'd the fruitful scene, The spreading olive reard its stately green; In dumb surprise the gazing crowds were lost, Nor knew on which to fix their wonder most.
TO MR. MILTON'S INCOMPARABLE POEM,
IL PENSEROSO, ON THE PENSIVE MAN, Through yielding waves the vessel swiftly flies,
WAS ALSO WRIT BY MR. HUGHES. That bears Urania from our eager eyes; Deaf to our call, the billows waft her o'er, It seems necessary to quote the eight foregoing lines With speed obsequious, to a distant shore:
for the right understanding of it. A prize more rich than Spain's whole fleets could from fam’d Peru, or Chili's golden coast! [boast Find out the peaceful hermitage
AND may, at last, my weary age
The hairy gown, and mossy cell,
Where I may sit, and rightly spell And a new dawn of beauty gilds their isle.
Of every star that Heaven doth shew,
And every herb that sips the dew;
There let Time's creeping Winter shed
But wisely fix'd, nor to extremes inclin'd,
Maintains the steady purpose of his mind.
So Atlas, pois'd on his broad base, defies
The shock of gathering storms and wintry skies; The scenes of deep eternity,
Above the clouds, serene, he lifts his brow, Till, lite dissolving at the view,
And sees, unmov'd, the thunder break below.
But where's the patriot, hy these virtues known,
That shuns, in all events, each partial view ?
That ne'er forgets the whole of things to weigh,
And scorns the siiort-liv'd wisdom ot a day?
If there be one--hold, Muse, nor more revealAll, who in town or country dwell!
(Y4t, oh that numbers could his name conceal!) Say, can you tale or tidings tell
Thrice happy Britain, of such wealth possest! Of Tortorella's hasty flight?
On thy firm throue, great George, unshaken rest, Why in new groves she takes delight,
Safe in his judgment, on his faith rely, And if in concert, or alone,
And prize the worth which kingdoms cannot buy! The cooing murmurer makes her moan?
Rich in itself, the genuine diamond shines, Now learn the marks, by which you may
And owes its value to its native mines; Trace out and stop the lovely stray!
Yet, set in Britain's crown, drinks ampler rays
Of the Sun's light, and casts a wider blaze. Some wit, more folly, and no care,
With pleasure we the well-plac'd gem behold, Thoughtless her conduct, free her air;
That adds a lustre to the royal gold.
January 25, 1717-18.
THE SECOND SCENE OF THE FIRST ACT OF
TRANSLATED FROM EURIPIDES.
Orestes had killed' his mother Clytemnestra, in And who was at each masquerade;
revenge of his father's death, who was murdered Of all fine things in this fine town,
by her. This part of the story is the subject of She's only to herself unknown.
the Elect of Sophocles, where, in the con
clusion of the play, Clytemnestra is heard beBy this description, if you meet her,
hind the scene crying out in vain for mercy, With lowly bows and homage greet her ;
while her son is executing his revenge. PerAnd if you bring the vagrant beauty
haps this play was written first; and Euripides Back to her mother and her duty,
took up the story where the other left off. The Ask, for reward, a lover's bliss,
reflection on his guilt in putting his mother to And (if she'll let you) take a kiss ;
death, though a criminal, with his own hands, Or more, if more you wish and may,
filled Orestes's mind with so much horrour as Try if at church the words she'll say,
afterwards caused his distraction. In this conThen make her, if you can—" obey."
dition be is represented in the following scene, lying on a couch, and his sister Electra, with a
chorus of Grecian women, waiting near himn.
I sball detain the reader no longer than to observe, THE PATRIOT.
that the tenderness of Electra, and the alter
nate starts and returns of marlness and reason TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
in Orestes, are touched with the inost exquisite WILLIAM LORD COWPER,
strokes of nature and passion.
CHORUS, ORESTES, ELECTRA.
LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR OF GREAT BRITAIN.
Draw near, Electra, to thy brothers couch;