Nor yet

for this decline the gen'rous ftrife,

These ills, brave man, fhall quit thee with thy life;

Alive though ftain'd by every abject slave,

Secure of fame, and justice in the grave.

Ah! no-when once the mortal yields to fate,

The blaft of Fame's fweet trumpet founds too late, Too late to stay the fpirit on its flight,

Or footh the new inhabitant of light;

Who hears regardlefs, while fond man, diftrefs'd,
Hangs on the abfent, and laments the bleft.

Farewel then fame, ill fought thro' fields of blood, Farewel unfaithful promifer of good:

Thou mufic, warbling to the deafen'd ear!

Thou incenfe, wasted on the fun❜ral bier!

Through life pursu'd in vain, by death obtain❜d, When ask'd, deny'd us, and when given, difdain'd.

AN

T

By the Same.

I.

HOU dome, where Edward first enroll'd

His red-cross knights and barons bold,
Whose vacant feats, by virtue bought,
Ambitious emperors have fought;
Where Britain's foremost names are found,
In peace belov'd, in war renown'd,
Who made the hoftile nations moan,
Or brought a bleffing on their own:

II. Once

II.

Once more a fon of SPENCER waits,

A name familiar to thy gates,

Sprung from the chief whose prowess gain'd
The garter while thy founder reign'd.
He offer'd here his dinted fhield,

The dread of Gauls in Creffi's field.
Which in thy high-arch'd temple rais'd,

For four long centuries hath blaz❜d.

III.

These feats our fires, a hardy kind,
To the fierce fons of war confign'd,
The flow'r of chivalry, who drew
With finewy arm the ftubborn yew;
Or with heav'd poll-axe clear'd the field;
Or who, in joufts and tourneys skill'd,
Before their ladies' eyes renown'd,

Threw horse and horfeman to the ground.
IV.

In after-times, as courts refin'd,

Our patriots in the list were join'd,

Nor only Warwick ftain'd with blood,

Or Marlb❜rough near the Danube's flood,

Have in their crimson croffes glow'd;
But, on just law-givers bestow'd,

These emblems Cecil did invest,

And gleam'd on wife Godolphin's breast.

V.

So Greece, ere arts began to rife,
Fix'd huge Orion in the skies,

And stern Alcides, fam'd in wars,
Bespangled with a thousand stars;
'Till letter'd Athens round the pole
Made gentler conftellations roll,

In the blue heavens the * Lyre she ftrung,
And near the Maid the Balance hung.

VI.

Then, SPENCER, mount amid the band,
Where knights and kings promifcuous ftand.
What though the hero's flame reprefs'd
Burns calmly in thy generous breast ;

Yet who more dauntless to oppose

In doubtful days our home-bred foes?

Who rais'd his country's wealth fo high,
Or view'd with lefs defiring eye?

Names of Conftellations.

VOL. I.

D

VII. The

VII.

The fage, who large of foul furveys
The globe, and all its empires weighs,
Watchful the various climes to guide,
Which feas, and tongues, and faiths divide,
A nobler name in Windfor's shrine
Shall leave, if right the Muse divine,
Than fprung of old, abhorr'd and vain,
From ravag'd realms and myriads flain.
VIII.

1

Why praise we, prodigal of fame,
The rage that fets the world on flame?
My guiltless Mufe his brow fhall bind
Whofe godlike bounty spares mankind:
For those, whom bloody garlands crown,
The brass may breathe, the marble frown;
To him, through every rescu'd land,
Ten thousand living trophies stand.

KEN