ARGUMENT.

The execution of Genius.—The passion of Love, an exciting cause of Genius.-The pleasures of Genius.-The rise of Genius in Egypt.-Greece.-Rome.-Gothic darkness.'The revival of Literature in Florence.-Its cultivation in England. The descent of Genius.-Her address to America.

GENIUS.

OBSERVE the man in whom these powers

combine,

Rous'd and excited by some great design;
Where'er he darts his intellectual ray,
Obstructions vanish, mountains melt away;
The prospect clears, and in the darkest night,
The torch of Genius sheds its searching light.

Her voice of thunder like Prospero's wand,
Bids fairy people bow at her command,
She bids them leave the silent depths of sleep,
And with their pinions overshade the deep;
Her forces follow at her magic call,

10

She guides their footsteps, gives her rules to all.

G

What she designs her nervous arm performs;
She builds her fabric in the war of storms:
The floods descend-it braves the mighty shock;
It stands supported on the stedfast rock;

Wide to the wind its massy doors unclose,
And hail the stranger to its safe repose:
Thus stands the oak upon the mountain's brow,
And throws his shelter on the shrubs below,
Thus with his wing the eagle guards his nest,
And rock'd in tempests soothes his young to rest.

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Great Bacon's soul first led the daring way; Then Newton's system call'd the world to day;

* It is well known in the literary world, that the discoveries of Newton, excepting those which belong to pure mathematics, were derived from those outlines drawn by the bold hand of Bacon. Newton has exhibited a perfect and accurate system, but he had the example and directions of Bacon. "It would nevertheless (says Dr. Gerard) be a question of very difficult solution, which of the two possessed the greatest genius; Newton's inquiries concerning bodies the most subtle or the most remote, seem to demand an acuteness and compass of invention, which we might pronounce adequate to all the investigations of Bacon, though his discoveries in mathematics, perfectly original, were not extant to give a sanction to the judgment."

Hurl'd from his throne, the ruthless king of night,
Pierc'd his retreat and put his hosts to flight:
The world of matter and the boundless sky,
All Nature open'd to the sage's eye.

30

Love often wakes the poet's soul of fire, And bids bold youth to noble deeds aspire: Others it leads with folded arms to rove, Where Silence slumbers in the peaceful grove. Young Cymon* rous'd by Iphigenia's charm, Felt the strong thunder nerve his clownish arm; By daring deeds he won the lovely maid, And bore her blushing to his native shade.

Where rolls the Forth his wild romantic flood, Amid the moor an humble dwelling stood; There liv'd an honest pair whose only joy, Dwelt in their child, a simple shepherd boy; 40 With Fancy, kindled by the breath of Fame, They gave their son Orlando's sounding name. A modest blush, an honest heart he had, And every village neighbour bless'd the lad.

See Drydens, admirable tale of Cymon and Iphigenia.

Serenely o'er his head had eighteen years
Flown, unembitter'd by remorseful tears.
He lov'd his pipe, and when the vale was still,
His strain came sweeten'd from the shady hill;
Nature he lov'd in all her various forms,
Her sleeping green, her mountain beat by storms,
Her winding stream, her ever rolling waves, 51
Her cooling shades, her deep and dismal caves.
Thus smil'd his days-"but why the tale prolong?”
He saw fair Anna-Anna 'woke his
song;
Her lovely limbs a snowy vestment bound,
A silken cincture clasp'd her form around;
Hung careless on her back her dusky hair,
And wav'd in ringlets to the sportive air.
Her smile awaken'd every hope of love,
Her modest mildness would that hope reprove: 60
A pensive sorrow shaded o'er her face,

Admiring Nature gave her every grace.
Orlando lov'd--but all his vows were vain,
And all the sweetness of his mournful strain.
An happier shepherd from the banks of Tay,
Bow'd to her charms and bore the maid away.
Orlando mourns-his sun has set in night,
And fled each hope and every fond delight.