By length of toil a bright perfection knew,
Correctly bold, and juft in all she drew.
Till late Corneille, with + Lucan's spirit fir’d,
Breath'd the free strain, as Rome and He inspir'd :
And claffic judgment gaind to sweet Racine
The temperate strength of Maro's chaster line.

But wilder far the British laurel spread, And wreaths less artful crown our poet's head. Yet He alone to every scene could give Th' historian's truth, and bid the manners live. Wak'd at his call I view, with glad surprize, Majestic forms of mighty monarchs rise. There Henry's trumpets spread their loud alarms, And laurel'd Conquest waits her hero's arms. Here gentler Edward claims a pitying figh, Scarce born to honours, and so soon to die ! Yet shall thy throne, unhappy infant, bring No beam of comfort to the guilty king :

+ The favourite author of the elder Corneille.

The

The * time shall come, when Glo'ster's heart fall
In life's laft hours, with horror of the deed : <bleed
When dreary visions shall at last present
Thy vengeful image in the midnight tent:
Thy hand unseen the secret death shall bear, [spear.
Blunt the weak sword, and break th' oppressive

Where'er we turn, by fancy charm'd, we find Some sweet illusion of the cheated mind. Oft, wild of wing, she calls the soul to rove With humbler nature, in the rural grove ; Where swains contented own the quiet scene, And twilight fairies tread the circled green: Dress'd by her hand, the woods and valleys smile, And Spring diffusive decks th' inchanted isle.

O more than all in powerful genius blest, Come, take thine empire o'er the willing breast! Whate'er the wounds this youthful heart shall feel, Thy fongs support me, and thy morals heal!

There every thought the poet's warmth may raise,
There native music dwells in all the lays.
O might some verse with happiest skill persuade
Expressive Picture to adopt thine aid !
What wondrous draughts might rise from every
What other. Raphaels charm a distant age! [page!

Methinks even now I view some free design, Where breathing Nature lives in every line : Chafte and subdued the modest lights decay, Steal into shades, and mildly melt away. -And see, where * Anthony, in tears approv’d, Guards the pale relics of the chief he lov'd : O'er the cold corse the warrior seems to bend, Deep funk in grief, and mourns his murder'd friend ! Still as they press, he calls on all around, Lifts the torn robe, and points the bleeding wound.

But + who is he, whose brows exalted bear A wrath impatient, and a fiercer air ?

* Şee the tragedy of Julius Cæsar.
+ Coriolanus. See Mr. Spence's dialogue on the Odyssey.

Awake

Awake to all that injur'd worth can feel,
On his own Rome he turns th’avenging steel.
Yet shall not war's insatiate fury fall,
(So heaven ordains it) on the destin'd wall.
See the fond mother, 'midft the plaintive train,
Hung on his knees, and proftrate on the plain!
Touch'd to the soul, in vain he strives to hide
The fon's affection, in the Roman's pride :
O'er all the man conflicting paffions rise,
Rage grasps the sword, while Pity melts the eyes.

Thus, generous Critic, as thy Bard inspires,
The fifter Arts hall nurse their drooping fires ;
Each from his scenes her stores alternate bring,
Blend the fair tints, or wake the vocal string :
Those Sibyl-leaves, the sport of every wind,
(For poets ever were a careless kind)
By theç dispos’d, no farther toil demand,
But, just to Nature, own thy forming hand.

So

So spread o'er Greece, th' harimonious whole

unknown, Even Homer's numbers charm'd by parts alone. Their own Ulysses scarce had wander'd more, By winds and waters cast on every shore : When rais'd by fate, some former Hanmer join'd Each beauteous image of the boundless mind; And bade, like thee, his Athens ever claim A fond alliance with the Poet's name.

DIRGÈ