Sometimes she bids the deep-embattled host,
Above the vulgar reach, resistless form'd,
March to sure conquest - never gain'd before!*
Nor on the treacherous seas of giddy state
Unskilful she when the triumphant tide

:

Of high-swoln empire wears one boundless smile,
And the gale tempts to new pursuits of fame,
Sometimes, with Scipio, she collects her sail,
And seeks the blissful shore of rural ease,
Where, but th' Aonian maids, no syrens sing;
Or should the deep-brew'd tempest muttering rise,
While rocks and shoals perfidious lurk around,
With Tully she her wide reviving light
To senates holds, a Catiline confounds,
And saves awhile from Cæsar sinking Rome.
Such the kind power, whose piercing eye dissolves
Each mental fetter, and sets reason free;
For me inspiring an enlighten'd zeal,
The more tenacious as the more convinc'd
How happy freemen, and how wretched slaves.
To Britons not unknown, to Britons full
The goddess spreads her stores, the secret soul
That quickens trade, the breath unseen that wafts
To them the treasures of a balanc'd world.
But finer arts (save what the Muse has sung
In daring flight, above all modern wing)
Neglected droop the head; and public works,
Broke by corruption into private gain,
Not ornament, disgrace; not serve, destroy.

The flood-compelling arch; the long canal *,
Through mountains piercing, and uniting seas;
The dome resounding sweet with infant joy +,
From famine sav'd, or cruel-handed shaine,
And that where valour counts his noble scars;
The land where social pleasure loves to dwell,
Of the fierce demon, Gothic duel, freed;
The robber from his farthest forest chas'd;
The turbid city clear'd, and, by degrees,
Into sure peace the best police refin'd,
Magnificence, and grace, and decent joy.
Let Gallic bards record, how honour'd arts,
And science, by despotic bounty bless'd,
At distance flourish'd from my parent-eye,
Restoring ancient taste, how Boileau rose,
How the big Roman soul shook, in Corneille,
The trembling stage. In elegant Racine,
How the more powerful, though more humble ro
Of nature-painting Greece, resistless, breath'd
The whole awaken'd heart. How Moliere's scene
Chastis'd and regular, with well-judg'd wit,
Not scatter'd wild, and native humour, grac'd,
Was life itself. To public honours rais'd,
How learning in warm seminaries spread ;
And, more for glory than the small reward,
How emulation strove. How their pure tongue
Almost obtain'd what was deny'd their arms.
From Rome, awhile, how Painting, courted long,
With Poussin came: ancient design, that lifts

"Shall Britons, by their own joint wisdom rul'd A fairer front, and looks another soul.

Beneath one royal head, whose vital power
Connects, enlivens, and exerts the whole;
In finer arts, and public works, shall they
To Gallia yield? yield to a land that bends,
Deprest, and broke, beneath the will of one?"
Of one who, should th' unkingly thirst of gold,
Of tyrant passions, or ambition, prompt,
Calls locust armies o'er the blasted land:

How the kind art §, that, of unvalued price,
The fam'd and only picture, easy, gives,
Refin'd her touch, and, through the shadow'd piece,
All the live spirit of the painter pour'd.
Coyest of arts, how Sculpture northward deign'd
A look, and bade her Girardon arise.
How lavish grandeur blaz'd; the barren waste,
Astonish'd, saw the sudden palace swell,

Drains from its thirsty bounds the springs of wealth, And fountains spout amid its arid shades.
His own insatiate reservoir to fill:

To the lone desert patriot merit frowns,

Or into dungeons arts, when they, their chains,
Indignant, bursting, for their nobler works
All other licence scorn but Truth's and mine.
Oh, shame to think! shall Britons, in the field
Unconquer'd still, the better laurel lose?
Ev'n in that monarch's + reign, who vainly dreamt,
By giddy power, betray'd, and flatter'd pride,
To grasp unbounded sway; while, swarming round,
His armies dar'd all Europe to the field;
To hostile hands while treasure flow'd profuse,
And, that great source of treasure, subjects' blood,
Inhuman squander'd, sicken'd every land;
From Britain, chief, while my superior sons,
In vengeance rushing, dash'd his idle hopes,
And bade his agonizing heart be low :
Ev'n then, as in the golden calm of peace!
What public works at home! what arts arose !
What various science shone! what genius glow'd!
""Tis not for me to paint, diffusive shot
O'er fair extents of land, the shining road;

Epaminondas, after having beat the Lacedæ-
monians and their allies, in the battle of Leuctra,
made an incursion at the head of a powerful army
into Laconia. It was now six hundred years since
the Dorians had possessed this country, and in all
that time the face of an enemy had not been seen
within their territories. Plutarch in Agesilaus.
+ Lewis XIV.

For leagues, bright vistas opening to the view,
How forests in majestic gardens smil'd.
How menial arts, by their gay sisters taught,
Wove the deep flow'r, the blooming foliage train'
In joyous figures o'er the silky lawn,
The palace cheer'd, illum'd the story'd wall,
And with the pencil vy'd the glowing loom.

"These laurels, Louis, by the droppings rais'd
Of thy profusion, its dishonour'd shade, [brow:
And, green through future times, shall bind the
While the vain honours of perfidious war
Wither abhorr'd, or in oblivion lost.
With what prevailing vigour had they shot,
And stole a deeper root, by the full tide
Of war-sunk millions fed? Superior still,
How had they branch'd luxuriant to the skies,
In Britain planted, by the potent juice

Of freedom swell'd? Forc'd is the bloom of arts,
A false uncertain spring, when bounty gives,
Weak without me, a transitory gleam.
Fair shine the slippery days, enticing skies
Of favour smile, and courtly breezes blow;
Till arts, betray'd, trust to the flattering air
Their tender blossom: then malignant rise

The canal of Languedoc,

The blights of envy, of those insect-clouds,
That, blasting merit, often cover courts:
Nay, should, perchance, some kind Mæcenas aid
The doubtful beamings of his prince's soul,
His wavering ardour fix, and unconfin'd
Diffuse his warm beneficence around;

Ket death, at last, and wintery tyrants come,
Each sprig of genius killing at the root.
But when with me imperial bounty joins,
Vide o'er the public blows eternal Spring:
While mingled Autumn every harvest pours
If every land; whate'er invention, art,
reating toil and Nature can produce."
Here ceas'd the goddess; and her ardent wings,
ipt in the colours of the heavenly bow,
tood waving radiance round, for sudden flight
repar'd, when thus, impatient, burst my prayer.
Oh, forming light of life! O, better Sun!
m of mankind! by whom the cloudy north,
ablim'd, not envies Languedocian skies,
aat, unstain'd ether all, diffusive smile :
hen shall we call these ancient laurels ours?

Till moral, public, graceful action crowns
The whole. Behold! the fair contention glows,
In all that mind or body can adorn,

And form to life. Instead of barren heads,
Barbarian pedants, wrangling sons of pride,
And truth-perplexing metaphysic wits,
Men, patriots, chiefs, and citizens are form'd.
"Lo! Justice, like the liberal light of Heaven,
Unpurchas'd shines on all, and from her beam,
Appalling guilt, retire the savage crew,
That prowl amid the darkness they themselves
Have thrown around the laws. Oppression grieves:
See! how her legal furies bite the lip,

While Yorks and Talbots their deep snares detect,
And seize swift justice through the clouds they raise.
"See! social Labour lifts his guarded head,
And men not yield to government in vain.
From the sure land is rooted ruffian force,
And, the lewd nurse of villains, idle waste; [bowl,
Lo! raz'd their haunts, down dash'd their maddening
A nation's poison! beauteous order reigns!
Manly submission, unimposing toil,

nd when thy work complete?" Straight with her Trade without guile, civility that marks

hand,

lestial red, she touch'd my darken'd eyes.
at the touch of day the shades dissolve,
quick, methought, the misty circle clear'd,
at dims the dawn of being here below:
Ie future shone disclos'd, and, in long view,
ight rising eras instant rush'd to light. [hold!
They come great Goddess! I the times be-
e times our fathers, in the bloody field,
ive earn'd so dear, and, not with less renown,
the warm struggles of the Senate fight.
e times I see! whose glory to supply,
r toiling ages, commerce round the world
is wing'd unnumber'd sails, and from each land
aterials heap'd, that, well-employ'd, with Rome
ght vie our grandeur, and with Greece our art.
Lo! princes I behold! contriving still,
d still conducting firm some brave design;
ags! that the narrow joyless circle scorn,
rst the blockade of false designing men,
treacherous smiles, of adulation fell,

d of the blinding clouds around them thrown:
eir court rejoicing millions; worth alone,
d virtue dear to them; their best delight,
just proportion, to give general joy:
eir jealous care thy kingdom to maintain;
e public glory theirs ; unsparing love

eir endless treasure; and their deeds their praise.
ith thee they work. Nought can resist your force:
e feels it quickening in her dark retreats;
ong spread the blooms of genius, science, art;
s bashful bounds disclosing merit breaks;
Bid, big with fruits of glory, virtue blows
kopansive o'er the land. Another race

generous youth, of patriot-sires, I see!
it those vain insects fluttering in the blaze
court, and ball, and play; those venal souls,
rruption's veteran unrelenting bands,
at, to their vices slaves, can ne'er be free.
"I see the fountain's purg'd; whence life derives
clear or turbid flow; see the young mind
ot fed impure by chance, by flattery fool'd.
rby scholastic jargon bloated proud,

at fill'd and nourish'd by the light of truth.
en, beam'd through fancy the refining ray,
nd pouring on the heart, the passions feel
t once informing light and moving flame;

From the foul herd of brutal slaves thy sons,
And fearless peace. Or should affronting war
To slow but dreadful vengeance rouse the just,
Unfailing fields of freemen I behold!
That know, with their own proper arm, to guard
Their own blest isle against a leaguing world.
Despairing Gaul her boiling youth restrains,
Dissolv'd her dream of universal sway:
The winds and seas are Britain's wide domain;
And not a sail, but by permission, spreads.

"Lo! swarming southward on rejoicing sons,
Gay colonies extend; the calm retreat
Of undeserv'd distress, the better home
Of those whom bigots chase from foreign lands,
Not built on rapine, servitude, and woe,
And in their turn some petty tyrant's prey;
But, bound by social freedom, firm they rise;
Such as, of late, an Oglethorpe has form'd,
And, crowding round, the charm'd Savannah sees,
"Horrid with want and misery, no more
Our streets the tender passenger afflict.
Nor shivering age, nor sickness without friend,
Or home, or bed to bear his burning load,
Nor agonizing infant, that ne'er earn'd
Its guiltless pangs, I see! The stores, profuse,
Which British bounty has to these assign'd,
No more the sacrilegious riot swell
Of cannibal devourers! Right apply'd,
No starving wretch the land of freedom stains:
If poor, employment finds; if old, demands;
If sick, if maim'd, his miserable due;
And will, if young, repay the fondest care.
Sweet sets the sun of stormy life, and sweet
The morning shines, in mercy's dews array'd.
Lo! how they rise! these families of Heaven!
That!* chief, (but why-ye bigots!-why so late?)
Where blooms and warbles glad a rising age:
What smiles of praise! and while their song ascends,
The listening seraph lays his lute aside.

"Hark! the gay Muses raise a nobler strain, With active nature, warm impassion'd truth, Engaging fable, lucid order, notes

Of various string, and heart-felt image fill'd.
Behold! I see the dread delightful school
Of temper'd passions, and of polish'd life,

• An hospital for foundlings.
K k

AMBROSE PHILIPS.