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II.

No cold or unperforming hand
Was arm'd by Heaven with this command.
The world soon felt it: and, on high,
To William's ear with welcome joy
Did Locke among the blest unfold
The rising hope of Hoadly's name,
Godolphin then confirm'd the fame;
And Somers, when from Earth he came,
id generous Stanhope the fair sequel told.

Then drew the lawgivers around,
Sires of the Grecian name renown'd,)
And listening ask'd, and wondering knew,
What private force could thus subdue
The vulgar and the great combin'd;
Could war with sacred Folly wage;
Could a whole nation disengage
From the dread bonds of many an age,
d to new habits mould the public mind.

For not a conqueror's sword,

Nor the strong powers to civil founders known,
Were his but truth by faithful search explor'd,
d social sense, like seed, in genial plenty sown.
Wherever it took root, the soul (restor❜d
To freedom) freedom too for others sought.
Not monkish craft, the tyrant's claim divine,
Not regal zeal, the bigot's cruel shrine,
Could longer guard from reason's warfare sage;
Not the wild rabble to sedition wrought,
Nor synods by the papal genius taught,

r St. John's spirit loose, nor Atterbury's rage.

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While thus our vows prolong

Thy steps on Earth, and when by us resign'd Thou join'st thy seniors, that heroic throng Who rescued or preserv'd the rights of human kind, O! not unworthy may thy Albion's tongue Thee still, her friend and benefactor, name: O! never, Hoadly, in thy country's eyes, May impious gold, or pleasure's gaudy prize, Make public virtue, public freedom, vile; Nor our own manners tempt us to disclaim That heritage, our noblest wealth and fame, Which thou hast kept entire from force and factious guile.

L

THOMAS GRAY.

D

T

THOMAS HOMAS GRAY, a distinguished poet, was the son laureat, vacant by the death of Cibber, was offe of a money-scrivener in London, where he was to Gray, but declined by him. In the same yea born in 1716. He received his education at Eton-published two odes, "On the Progress of Poes school, whence he was sent to the university of and "The Bard," which were not so popular as a Cambridge, and entered as a pensioner at St. Pe- Elegy had been, chiefly, perhaps, because they ter's College. He left Cambridge in 1738, and less understood. The uniform life passed by occupied a set of chambers in the Inner Temple, eminent person admits of few details, but the tra for the purpose of studying the law. From this action respecting the professorship of modern hist intention he was diverted by an invitation to accom- at Cambridge, a place worth four hundred pocas pany Mr. Horace Walpole, son of the celebrated a year, is worthy of some notice. When the st statesman, with whom he had made a connection at ation became vacant in Lord Bute's administra Eton, in a tour through Europe. Some disagree- it was modestly asked for by Gray, but had alres ment, of which Mr. Walpole generously took the been bespoken by another. On a second vac blame, caused them to separate in Italy; and Gray in 1768, the Duke of Grafton being now in part returned to England in September, 1741, two months it was, "unsolicited and unsuspected," confer before his father's death. Gray, who now depended upon him; in return for which he wrote his chiefly upon his mother and aunt, left the law, and for Music," for the installation of that noblema returned to his retirement at Cambridge. In the chancellor of the university. This professors next year he had the misfortune to lose his dear though founded in 1724, had hitherto remitet friend West, also an Eton scholar, and son to the perfect sinecure; but Gray prepared himself a Chancellor of Ireland, which left a vacancy in his execute the duties of his office. Such, howe affections, that seems never to have been supplied. were the baneful effects of habitual indolence, t From this time his residence was chiefly at Cam- with a mind replete with ancient and modern ko bridge, to which he was probably attached by an in- ledge, he found himself unable to proceed farthe satiable love of books, which he was unable to gra- than to draw a plan for his inauguration speed tify from his own stores. Some years passed in this But his health was now declining; an irreg favourite indulgence, in which his exquisite learning hereditary gout made more frequent attacks th and poetic talents were only known to a few friends; formerly; and at length, while he was dining in and it was not till 1747, that his “ Ode on a distant | College-hall, he was seized with a complaint in t Prospect of Eton College" made its appearance stomach, which carried him off on July 30, 1771. before the public. It was in 1751 that his cele- the fifty-fifth year of his age. His remains a brated "Elegy written in a Country Church-yard," deposited, with those of his mother and aunt, in te chiefly composed some years before, and even now church-yard of Stoke-Pogis, Buckinghamshire. sent into the world without the author's name, made its way to the press. Few poems were ever so popular it soon ran through eleven editions; was translated into Latin verse, and has ever since borne the marks of being one of the most favourite productions of the British Muse.

In the manners of Gray there was a degree of effeminacy and fastidiousness which exposed him to the character of a fribble; and a few riotous young Inen of fortune in his college thought proper to make him a subject for their boisterous tricks. He made remonstrances to the heads of the society upon this usage, which being treated, as he thought, without due attention, he removed in 1756 to Pembroke-hall. In the next year, the office of poet

It is exclusively as a poet that we record name of Gray; and it will, perhaps, be thoug that we borrow too large a share from a single sma volume; yet this should be considered as indicat of the high rank which he has attained, compr with the number of his compositions. With respe to his character as a man of learning, since his a quisitions were entirely for his own use, duced no fruits for the public, it has no claim particular notice. For though he has been calie by one of his admirers "perhaps the most learne man in Europe," never was learning more thro away. A few pieces of Latin poetry are all that b has to produce.

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AWAKE, Æolian lyre, awake,

And give to rapture all thy trembling strings
From Helicon's harmonious springs
A thousand rills their mazy progress take;
The laughing flowers that round them blow,
Drink life and fragrance as they flow.
Now the rich stream of music winds along,
Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong,
Through verdant vales, and Ceres' golden reig
Now rolling down the steep amain,
Headlong, impetuous, see it pour :
The rocks, and nodding groves, rebellow to the r

Oh! sovereign of the willing soul,
Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs,
Enchanting shell! the sullen cares,

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And frantic passions, hear thy soft control:
On Thracia's hills the lord of war
Has curb'd the fury of his car,
And dropp'd his thirsty lance at thy command:
Perching on the scepter'd hand

Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather'd king
With ruffled plumes, and flagging wing:
Quench'd in dark clouds of slumber lie
The terrour of his beak, and lightning of his eye.

Thee the voice, the dance, obey,
Temper'd to thy warbled lay,
O'er Idalia's velvet-green
The rosy-crowned Loves are seen,
On Cytherea's day,

=ith antic sports and blue-ey'd pleasures,
risking light in frolic measures;
low pursuing, now retreating,
Tow in circling troops they meet:
'o brisk notes in cadence beating
lance their many-twinkling feet.

low-melting strains their queen's approach declare :
Where'er she turns, the Graces homage pay,
Vith arts sublime, that float upon the air,

n gliding state she wins her easy way:
Y'er her warm cheek, and rising bosom, move

The bloom of young Desire, and purple light of Love.

II.

Man's feeble race what ills await,

abour and Penury, the racks of Pain, Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train,

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Two coursers of ethereal race,

[ing pace.

With necks in thunder cloth'd, and long-resound

And Death, sad refuge from the storms of Fate! Hark, his hands the lyre explore!

The fond complaint, my song, disprove,

And justify the laws of Jove.

ay, has he given in vain the heavenly Muse?
Night, and all her sickly dews,

Her spectres wan, and birds of boding cry,
He gives to range the dreary sky:
Cill down the eastern cliffs afar
Hyperion's march they spy, and glittering shafts of

In climes beyond the solar road,

[war.

Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam, The Muse has broke the twilight gloom

To cheer the shivering native's dull abode. And oft, beneath the odorous shade

Of Chili's boundless forests laid,

She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat,

In loose numbers wildly sweet,

Their feather-cinctur'd chiefs, and dusky loves.
Her track, where'er the goddess roves,
Glory pursue, and generous Shame,

Th' unconquerable mind, and Freedom's holy flame.

Woods, that wave o'er Delphi's steep,
Isles, that crown th' Ægean deep,
Fields, that cool Ilissus laves,

Or where Mæander's amber waves
In lingering labyrinths creep,
How do your tuneful Echoes languish
Mute, but to the voice of Anguish ?
Where each old poetic mountain
Inspiration breath'd around :
Every shade and hallow'd fountain
Murmur'd deep a solemn sound:
Till the sad Nine, in Greece's evil hour,

Left their Parnassus, for the Latian plains.
Alike they scorn the pomp of tyrant-power,
And coward Vice, that revels in her chains.
When Latium had her lofty spirit lost,

They sought, oh Albion! next thy sea-encircled coast.

III.

Far from the Sun and summer-gale,

In thy green lap was Nature's darling * laid,
What time, where lucid Avon stray'd,

To him the mighty mother did unveil

Her aweful face: the dauntless child
Stretch'd forth his little arms, and smil'd.

"This pencil take," she said, "whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year:

* Shakspeare.

Bright-ey'd Fancy, hovering o'er,
Scatters from her pictur'd urn

Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.

But ah! 't is heard no more

Oh! lyre divine, what daring spirit
Wakes thee now? though he inherit
Nor the pride, nor ample pinion,
That the Theban eagle bear,
Sailing with supreme dominion
Through the azure deep of air:
Yet oft before his infant eyes would run
Such forms as glitter in the Muse's ray
With orient hues, unborrow'd of the Sun:
Yet shall he mount, and keep his distant way
Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate,

Beneath the good how far-but far above the great.

ODE ON THE SPRING.

Lo! where the rosy-bosom'd Hours,
Fair Venus' train appear,
Disclose the long-expecting flowers,
And wake the purple year!
The attic warbler pours her throat,
Responsive to the cuckoo's note,

The untaught harmony of Spring:
While, whispering pleasure as they fly,
Cool Zephyrs through the clear blue sky
Their gather'd fragrance fling.

Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch.
A broader, browner shade;
Where'er the rude and moss-grown beech
O'er-canopies the glade,

Beside some water's rushy brink
With me the Muse shall sit, and think

(At ease reclin'd in rustic state)
How vain the ardour of the crowd,
How low, how little are the proud,
How indigent the great!

Still is the toiling hand of Care:
The panting herds repose:

Yet hark, how through the peopled air
The busy murmur glows!

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