He bids him live and grow in fame; Among the stars he sticks his name : The grave can but the drofs of him devour, So small is Death's, so great the Poet's, power Lo, how th' obfequious wind, and swelling air, Whilft, alas! my timorous Muse Like the laborious bee, For little drops of honey flee, And there with humble fweets contents her industry. THE RESURRECTION. N OT winds to voyagers at fea, Nor showers to earth, more neceffary be (Heaven's vital feed cast on the womb of earth To give the fruitful year a birth) The midwife's office and the nurse's too; It feeds it strongly, and it clothes it gay, Embalms it, and erects a pyramid That never will decay Begin the song, and strike the living lyre; Lo! how the years to come, a numerous and well-fitted quire, All hand in hand do decently advance, And to my fong with smooth and equal measures dance !! Till all gentle notes be drown'd That to the spheres themselves shall filence bring, And Virgil's facred work, shall die; And he himself shall see in one fire shine Rich Nature's ancient Troy, though built by hands divine. Whom thunder's dismal noise, And all that prophets and apostles louder spake, Could not, whilst they liv'd, awake, C 4. When When dead t' arife; And open tombs, and open eyes, Back to their ancient home; Some from birds, from fishes some; Some descend from clouds on high, And, where th' attending foul naked and shivering stands, Meet, falute, and join their hands; As dispers'd foldiers, at the trumpet's call, Unhappy moft, like tortur'd men, Their joints new set, to be new-rack'd again, The mountains shake, and run about no less confus'd than they. Stop, stop, my Muse! allay thy vigorous heat, Kindled at a hint so great; Hold thy Pindaric Pegasus closely in, Which does to rage begin, And this steep hill would gallop up with violent course; 'Tis an unruly and a hard-mouth'd horse, Fierce and unbroken yet, Now prances stately, and anon flies o'er the place; Confcious and proud of his own natural force. But flings writer and reader too, that fits not fure. G O, the rich chariot instantly prepare; Unruly Fancy with strong Judgment trace; Smooth-pac'd Eloquence join with it; Sound Memory with young Invention place; Let the postillion Nature mount, and let And let the airy footmen, running all beside, In a well-worded dress ; [Lyes, And innocent Loves, and pleasant Truths, and useful In all their gaudy liveries. Mount, glorious Queen! thy travelling throne, And bid it to put on'; For long, though chearful, is the way, And life, alas! allows but one ill winter's day. Where Where never foot of man, or hoof of beaft, Where never fish did fly, And with short filver wings cut the low liquid sky 3, Where bird with painted oars did ne'er Row through the trackless ocean of the air; Where never yet did pry The bufy morning's curious eye; The wheels of thy bold coach pass quick and free,. And all 's an open road to thee ! Whatever God did Say, Is all thy plain and smooth uninterrupted way! Thou speak'ft, great Queen! in the same style as He; "it be." Thou fathom'st the deep gulf of ages past, And canst pluck up with ease The years which thou dost please; Like shipwreck'd treasures, by rude tempests caft Long since into the fea, " Brought up again to light and public use by thee. Nor doft thou only dive so low, But fly With an unwearied wing the other way on high, Where Fates among the stars do grow; There |