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Where, tangled round the jealous steep,
Thither oft his glory gree:ing,
From Waller's myrtle lades retreating,
In vain-Such bliss to one alone,
Have now o’erturn'd th' inspiring bowers,
By Fairy hands their knell is rung,
Thou, who fit'ít a smiling bride
By Valour's arm'd and awful fide, Gentleft of sky-born forms, and best ador'd :
Who oft with songs, divine to hear,
Win'st from his fatal grasp the spear, And hid'it in wreaths of flowers his bloodless sword !
Thou who, amidst the deathful field,
By godlike chiefs alone beheld,
See, Mercy, see, with pure and loaded hands,
Before thy shrine my country's genius stands, And decks thy altar ftill, tho' pierc'd with many a
And rush'd in wrath to make our isle his prey;
Thy form, from out thy sweet abode,
O'ertook him on his blasted road,
I fee recoil his fable steeds,
That bore him swift to savage deeds,
Where Justice bars her iron tower,
To thee we build a roseate bower, Thou, thou shalt rule our queen, and share our
monarch's throne !
ODE TO LIBERTY.
HO shall awake the Spartan fife,
And call in solemn sounds to life,
Like vernal hyacinths in fallen hue,
Applauding Freedom lov'd of old to view ?
At Wisdom's fhrine a-while its flame concealing, (What place fo fit to seal a deed renown'd ?)
Till she her brightest lightnings round revealing, It leap'd in glory forth, and dealt her prompted O Goddess, in that feeling hour,
[wound ! When most its founds would court thy ears,
Let not my shell's misguided power, E’er draw thy sad, thy mindful tears.