He said. Th' astonishment with which I start,
Like bolted ice runs shivering through my heart.
"Art thou not mortal then ?" I cried. But lo!
His raiment lightens, and his features glow!
In shady ringlets falls a length of hair;
Embloom'd his aspect shines, enlarg`d his air.
Mild from his eyes enlivening glories beam;
Mild on his brow s ts majesty supreme.
Bright plumes of every dye, that round him flow,
Vest, robe, and wings, in varied lustre show.
He looks, and forward steps with mien divine;
A grace celestial gives him all to shine.
He speaks Nature is ravish'd at the sound,
The forests move, and streams stand listening round!
Thus he. "As incorruption I assum'd,
As instant in immortal youth I bloom'd!
Renew'd, and chang'd, I felt my vital springs,
With different lights discern'd the form of things;
To earth my passions fell like mists away,
And reason open'd in eternal day.
Swifter than thought from world to world I flew,
Celestial knowledge shone in every view.
My food was truth-what transport could I miss ?
My prospect, all infinitude of bliss.
Olympia met me first, and, smiling gay,
Onward to mercy fed the shining way,
As far transcendant to her wonted air,
As her dear wonted self to many a fair!

In voice, and form, beauty more beauteous shows,
And harmony still more harmonious grows. [charms,
She points out souls, who taught me friendship's
They gaze, they glow, they spring into my arms!
Well pleas'd, high ancestors my view command;
Patrons and patriots all; a glorious band!
Horatio too, by well-born faté refind,
Shone out white-rob'd with saints, a spotless mind ;
What once, below, ambition made him miss,
Humility here gain'd, a life of bliss!

Though late, let sinners then from sin depart !
Heaven never yet despis'd the contrite heart.
Last shone, with sweet, exalted lustre grac'd,
The Seraph-Bard, in highest order plac'd!
Seers, lovers, legislators, prelates, kings,
AM raptur'd listen, as he raptur'd sings.
Sweetness and strength his look and lays employ,
Greet smiles with smiles, and every joy with joy :
Charmful he rose; his ever-charmful tongue
Joy to our second hymeneals sung;
Still as we pass'd, the bright, celestial throng
Hail'd us in social love and heavenly song.
"Of that no more! my deathless friendship see!
I come an Angel to the Muse and thee.
These lights, that vibrate, and promiscuous shine,
Are emanations all of forms divine.

And here the Muse, though melted from thy gaze,
Stands among spirits, mingling rays with rays.
If thou would'st peace attain, my words attend,
The last, fond words of thy departed friend!
True joy's a seraph, that to Heaven aspires,
Unhurt it triumphs mid' celestial choirs.
But should no cares a mortal state molest,
Life were a state of ignorance at best.

"Khow then, if ills oblige thee to retire,
Those ills solemnity of thought inspire.
Did not the soul abroad for objects roam,
Whence could she learn to call ideas home?'
Justly to know thyself, peruse mankind;
To know thy God, paint nature on-thy mind:

THE reader will easily perceive these verses were begun, when my heart was gayer than it has been of late; and finished in hours of deepest melancholy.

I hope the world will do me the justice to believe, that no part of this flows from any real anger against the lady, to whom it is inscribed. Whatever andeserved severities I may have received at her hands, would she deal so candidly as acknowledge truth, she very well knows, by an experience of many years, that I have ever behaved myself towards her, like one who thought it his duty to support with patience all afflictions from that quarter. Indeed if I had not been capable of forgiving a mother, I must have blushed to receive pardon myself at the hands of my sovereign.

Neither, to say the truth, were the manner of my birth all, should I have any reason for complaint -When I am a little disposed to a gay turn of thinking, I consider, as I was a derelict from my cradle, I have the honour of a lawful claim to the best protection in Europe. For being a spot of earth, to which nobody pretends a title. I devolve naturally upon the king, as one of the rights of his royalty. While I presume to name his majesty, I look back, with confusion, upon the mercy I have lately experienced; because it is impossible to remember it, but with something I would fain forget, for the sake of my future peace, and alleviation of my past misfortune.

AN

EPISTLE

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

SIR ROBERT WALPOLE.

STILL let low wits, who sense nor honour prize,
Sneer at all gratitude, all truth disguise;
At living worth, because alive, exclaim,
Insult the exil'd, and the dead defame!
Such paint, what pity veils in private woes,
And what we see with grief, with mirth expose:
Studious to urge-(whom will mean authors spare?)
The child's, the parent's, and the consort's tear:
Unconscious of what pangs the heart may rend,
To lose what they have ne'er deserv'd-a friend.
Such, ignorant of facts, invent, relate,
Expos'd persist, and answer'd still debate:

Such, but by foils, the clearest lustre see,
And deem aspersing others, praising thee.
Far from these tracks my honest lays aspire,
And greet a generous heart with generous fire.
Truth be my guide! Truth, which thy virtue claims !
This, nor the poet, nor the patron shames!
When party-minds shall lose contracted views,
And History question the recording Muse;
'Tis this alone to after-times must shine,
And stamp the poet and his theme divine.

Long has my Muse, from many a mournful cause, Sung with small power, nor sought sublime applause; From that great point she now shall urge her scope; On that fair promise rest her future hope; Where policy, from state-illusion clear, Can through an open aspect shine sincere ; Where science, law, and liberty depend, And own the patron, patriot, and the friend; (That breast to feel, that eye on worth to gaze, That smile to cherish, and that hand to raise !) Whose best of hearts her best of thoughts inflame, Whose joy is bounty, and whose gift is fame.

Where, for relief, flies Innocence distress'd? To you, who chase oppression from th' oppress'd: Who, when complaint to you alone belongs, Forgive your own, though not a people's wrongs: Who still make public property your care, And thence bid private grief no more despair.

[ford,

Ask they what state your sheltering care shallown? 'Tis youth, 'tis age, the cottage, and the throne: Nor can the prison 'scape your searching eye, Your ear still opening to the captive's cry. Nor less was promis'd from thy early skill, Ere power enforc'd benevolence of will! To friends refin'd, thy private life adher'd, By thee improving, ere by thee prefer'd. Well hadst thou weigh'd what truth such friends afWith thee resigning, and with thee restor❜d. Thou taught'st them all extensive love to bear, And now mankind with thee their friendships share. As the rich cloud by due degrees expands, And showers down plenty thick on sundry lands, Thy spreading worth in various bounty fell, Made genius flourish, and made art excel.

How many, yet deceiv'd, all power oppose? Their fears increasing, as decrease their woes; Jealous of bondage, while they freedom gain, And most oblig'd, most eager to complain.

But well we count our bliss, if well we view, When power oppression, not protection, grew;

View present ills that punish distant climes;
Or bleed in memory here from ancient times.
Mark first the robe abus'd Religion wore,
Story'd with griefs, and stain'd with human gore!
What various tortures, engines, fires, reveal,
Study'd, empower'd, and sanctify'd by zeal?

Stop here, my Muse!-Peculiar woes descry!
Bid them in sad succession strike thy eye!
Lo, to her eye the sad succession springs!
She looks, she weeps, and, as she weeps, she sings.
See the doom'd Hebrew of his stores bereft!
See holy murder justify the theft!

His ravag'd gold some useless shrine shall raise,
His gems on superstitious idols blaze!
His wife, his babe, deny'd their little home,
Stripp'd, starv'd, unfriended, and unpity'd roam.
Lo, the priest's hand the wafer-god supplies!-
A king by consecrated poison dies!

See Learning range yon broad æthereal plain, From world to world, and god-like Science gain! Ah! what avails the curious search sustain'd, The finish'd toil, the god-like Science gain'd? Sentenc'd to flames th' expansive wisdom fell, And truth from Heaven was sorcery from Hell.

See Reason bid each mystic wile retire, Strike out new light! and mark!--the wise adinire! Zeal shall such heresy, like learning, hate; The same their glory, and the same their fate.

Lo, from sought mercy, one his life receives! Life, worse than death, that cruel mercy gives: The man, perchance, who wealth and honours bore, Slaves in the mine, or ceaseless strains the oar. So doom'd are these, and such, perhaps, our doom, Own'd we a prince, avert it Heaven! from Rome.

Nor private worth alone false Zeal assails;
Whole nations bleed when bigotry prevails.
"What are sworn friendships? What are kindred ties?
What's faith with heresy?" (the zealot cries.)
See, when war sinks, the thundering cannon's roar?
When wounds, and death, and discord are no more;
When music bids undreading joys advance,
Swell the soft hour, and turn the swimming dance:
When, to crown these, the social sparkling bowl
Lifts the cheer'd sense, and pours out all the soul;
Sudden he sends red massacre abroad;
Faithless to man, to prove his faith to God.
What pure persuasive eloquence denies,
All-drunk with blood, the arguing sword supplies;
The sword, which to th' assassin's hand is given
Th' assassin's hand !--pronounc'd the hand of Heaven!
Sex bleeds with sex, and infancy with age;
No rank, no place, no virtue, stops his rage;
Shall sword, and flame, and devastation cease,
To please with zeal, wild zeal! the God of Peace!
Nor less abuse has scourg'd the civil state,
When a king's will became a nation's fate.
Enormous power! Nor noble, nor serene;
Now fierce and cruel; now but wild and mean.
See titles sold, to raise th' unjust supply!
Compell'd the purchase! or be fin'd, or buy!
No public spirit, guarded well by laws,

Uncensur'd censures in his country's cause.
See from the merchant forc'd th' unwilling loan!
Who dares deny, or deem his wealth his own?
Denying, see! where dungeon-damps arise,
Diseas'd he pines, and unassisted dies.
Far more than massacre that fate accurst!
As of all deaths the lingering is the worst.

New courts of censure griev'd with new offence, Tax'd without power, and fin'd without pretence,

Explain'd, at will, each statute's wrested aim,
Till marks of merit were the marks of shame;
So monstrous!-Life was the severest grief,
And the worst death seem'd welcome for relief.
In vain the subject sought redress from law,
No senate liv'd the partial judge to awe:
Senates were void, and senators confin'd
For the great cause of Nature and mankind;
Who kings superior to the people own;
Yet prove the law superior to the throne.

Who can review without a generous tear,
A church, a state, so impious, so severe;
A land uncultur'd through polemić jars,
Rich!--but with carnage from intestine wars;
The hand of Industry employ'd no more,
And Commerce flying to some safer shore;
All property reduc'd, to Power a prey,
And Sense and Learning chas'd by Zeal away?
Who honours not each dear departed ghost,
That strove for Liberty so won, so lost:
So well regain'd when god-like William rose,
And first entail'd the blessing George bestows?
May Walpole still the growing triumph raise,
And bid these emulate Eliza's days;

Still serve a prince, who, o'er his people great,
As far transcends in`virtue, as in state!

The Muse pursues thee to thy rural seat;
Ev'n there shall Liberty inspire retreat.
When solemn cares in flowing wit are drown'd,
And sportive chat and social laughs go round :
Ev'n then, when pausing mirth begins to fail,
The converse varies to the serious tale,
The tale pathetic speaks some wretch that owes
To some deficient law reliefless woes.
What instant pity warms thy generous breast!
How all the legislator stands confess'd!

Now springs the hint! 'tis now improv'd to thought!
Now ripe! and now to public welfare brought!
New bills, which regulating means bestow,
Justice preserve, yet softening mercy know:
Justice shall low vexatious wiles decline,
And still thrive most, when lawyers most repine,
Justice from jargon shall refin'd appear,
To knowledge through our native language clear.
Hence we may learn, no more deceiv'd by law,
Whence wealth and life their best assurance draw.
The freed insolvent, with industrious hand,
Strives yet to satisfy the just demand:
Thus ruthless men, who would his powers restrain,
Oft what severity would lose obtain.
These, and a thousand gifts, thy thought acquires,
Which Liberty benevolent inspires.
From Liberty the fruits of law increase,
Plenty, and joy, and all the arts of peace.
Abroad the merchant, while the tempests rave,
Adventurous sails, nor fears the wind and wave;
At home untir'd we find the auspicious hand
With flocks, and herds, and harvests, bless the land:
While there, the peasant glads the grateful soil,
Here mark the shipwright, there the mason toil,
Hew, square, and rear, magnificent, the stone,
And give our oaks a glory not their own!
What life demands by this obeys her call,
And added elegance consummates all.
Thus stately cities, statelier navies rise,
And spread our grandeur under distant skies.
From Liberty each nobler science sprung,
A Bacon brighten'd, and a Spencer sung:

VOL. XI.

A Clark and Locke new tracks of truth explore, And Newton reaches heights unreach'd before.

What trade sees property that wealth maintain, Which industry no longer dreads to gain; What tender conscience kneels with fears resign'd, Enjoys her worship, and avows her mind; What genius now from want to fortune climbs, And to safe science every thought sublimes; What royal power, from his superior state, Sees public happiness his own create; But kens those patriot-souls, to which he owes Of old each source, whence now each blessing flows? And if such spirits from their heaven descend, And blended flame, to point one glorious end; Flame from one breast, and thence to Britain shine, What love, what praise, O Walpole, then is thine?

TWICE twenty tedious moons have roll'd away,
Since Hope, kind flatterer! tun'd my pensive lay,
Whispering, that you, who rais'd me from despair,
Meant, by your smiles, to make life worth my care,
With pitying hand an orphan's tears to screen,
And o'er the motherless extend the queen.
"Twill be the prophet guides the poet's strain!
Grief never touch'd a heart like your's in vain :
Heaven gave you power, because you love to bless;
And pity, when you feel it, is redress.

Two fathers join'd to rob my claim of one!
My mother too thought fit to have no son!
The senate next, whose aid the helpless own,
Forgot my infant wrongs, and mine alone!
Yet parents pity less, nor peers unkind,
Nor titles lost, nor woes mysterious join'd,
Strip me of hope-by Heav'n thus lowly laid,
To find a Pharaoh's daughter in the shade.

You cannot hear unmov'd, when wrongs implore
Your heart is woman, tho' your mind be more;
Kind, like the power who gave you to our prayers,
You would not lengthen life to sharpen cares;
They, who a barren leave to live bestow,
Snatch but from death to sacrifice to woe.
Hated by her from whom my life I drew,

Whence should I hope, if not from Heaven and yon?
Nor dare I groan beneath affliction's rod,
My queen my mother, and my father-God..
The pitying Muses saw me wit pursue;
A bastard-son, alas! on that side too,
Did not your eyes exalt the poet's fire,
And what the Muse denies, the queen inspire?
While rising thus your heavenly soul to view,
I learn, how angels think, by copying you.
Great princess! 'tis decreed-once every year
I march uncall'd your Laureat Volunteer;
Thus shall your poet his low genius raise,
And charm the world with truths too vast for praise.
Nor need I dwell on glories all your own,

Since surer means to tempt your smiles are known;

Y