From what monsters he fhould free
The earth, the air, and fea;

What mighty tyrants he should slay,

Greater monsters far than they ;

How much at Phlægra's field the distrest Gods fhould owe To their great offspring here below;

And how his club fhould there outdo Apollo's filver bow, and his own father's thunder too.

And that the grateful Gods, at last, The race of his laborious virtue past,

Heaven, which he fav'd, fhould to him give; Where, marry'd to eternal youth, he should for ever

live;

Drink nectar with the Gods, and all his fenfes please In their harmonious, golden palaces;

Walk with ineffable delight

Through the thick groves of never-withering light,
And, as he walks, affright

The lion and the bear,

Bull, centaur, fcorpion, all the radiant monsters there.

THE PRAISE OF PINDAR. In imitation of HORACE's fecond Ode, B. IV. "Pindarum quifquis ftudet æmulari, &c."

INDAR is imitable by none;

PINI

The Phoenix Pindar is a vast species alone.

Who e'er but Dedalus with waxen wings could fly,
And neither fink too low nor foar too high?

What

What could he who follow'd claim, But of vain boldnefs the unhappy fame, And by his fall a sea to name ?

Pindar's unnavigable fong

Like a fwoln flood from fome steep mountain pours along ; The occan meets with fuch a voice,

From his enlarged mouth, as drowns the ocean's noife.

So Pindar does new words and figures roll
Down his impetuous dithyrambic tide,

Which in no channel deigns t' abide,

Which neither banks nor dykes control :
Whether th' immortal Gods he fings,.
In a no lefs immortal strain,

Or the great acts of God-defcended kings,
Who in his numbers ftill furvive and reign;

Each rich-embroider'd line,

Which their triumphant brows around,

By his facred hand is bound,

Does all their starry diadems outfhine,

Whether at Pifa's race he please

To carve in polish'd verse the conqueror's images;
Whether the swift, the skilful, or the strong,
Be crowned in his nimble, artful, vigorous fong;
Whether fome brave young man's

timely fate, In words worth dying for, he celeste

Such mournful, and fuch pleasing words,

As joy to his mother's and his mistrels grief affords —

He bids him live and grow in fame;
Among the ftars he sticks his name:

The grave can but the drofs of him devour,
So fmall is Death's, fo great the Poet's, power!

Lo, how th' obfequious wind, and fwelling air,
The Theban fwan does upwards bear

Into the walks of clouds, where he does play,
And with extended wings opens his liquid way!
Whilft, alas! my timorous Mufe
Unambitious tracks pursues ;
Does with weak, unballast wings,
About the moffy brooks and springs,
About the trees' new-bloffom'd heads,
About the gardens' painted beds,
About the fields and flowery meads,
And all inferior beauteous things,
Like the laborious bee,

For little drops of honey flee,

And there with humble sweets contents her industry.

THE

RESURRECTION.

OT winds to voyagers at sea,

NOT

Nor showers to earth, more necessary be (Heaven's vital feed caft on the womb of earth To give the fruitful year a birth)

Than Verse to Virtue; which can do The midwife's office and the nurfe's too`;

It feeds it ftrongly, and it clothes it gay,
And, when it dies, with comely pride

Embalms it, and erects a pyramid
That never will decay

Till heaven itself fhall melt away,
And nought behind it stay.

Begin the fong, 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!
Whilft the dance lafts, how long foe'er it be,
My mufic's voice shall bear it company;
Till all gentle notes be drown'd

In the last trumpet's dreadful found :
That to the spheres themselves fhall filence bring,
Untune the universal string :

Then all the wide-extended sky,

And all th' harmonious worlds on high,

And Virgil's facred work, fhall die;

And he himself fhall fee in one fire fhine

Rich Nature's ancient Troy, though, built by hands divine.

Whom thunder's difmal noife,
And all that prophets and apoftles louder spake,
And all the creatures' plain confpiring voice,

Could not, whilft they liv'd, awake,
This mightier found shall make

C. 4.

When

When dead t' arise;

And open tombs, and open eyes,

To the long fluggards of five thousand years!
This mightier found shall make its hearers ears.
Then shall the scatter'd atoms crowding come
Back to their ancient home;

Some from birds, from fishes fome;
Some from earth, and fome from feas;
Some from beafts, and fome from trees;
Some defcend from clouds on high,

Some from metals upwards fly,

And, where th' attending foul naked and shivering stands,

Meet, falute, and join their hands;
As difpers'd foldiers, at the trumpet's call,
Hafte to their colours all.

Unhappy moft, like tortur'd men,
Their joints new fet, to be new-rack'd again,
To mountains they for shelter pray,

The mountains shake, and run about no lefs confus'd than they.

Stop, ftop, my Mufe! allay thy vigorous heat,

Kindled at a hint fo great;

Hold thy Pindaric Pegasus closely in,

Which does to rage begin,

And this keep hill would gallop up with violent courfe; 'Tis an unruly and a hard-mouth'd horse,

Fierce