"Serene, and safe from passion's stormy rage, How calm they glide into the port of Age! Of the rude voyage less deprived than eased; More tired than pain'd, and weaken'd than diseased; For health on age 'tis temperance must bestow, And peace from piety alone can flow;

And all the incense bounteous Jove requires,

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Has sweets for him who feeds the sacred fires.
"Sloth views the towers of Fame with envious eyes,
Desirous still, still impotent to rise.

Oft, when resolved to gain those blissful towers,
The pensive queen the dire ascent explores,
Comes onward, wafted by the balmy trees,
Some sylvan music, or some scented breeze;
She turns her head, her own gay realm she spies,
And all the short-lived resolution dies.

Thus some fond insect's faltering pinions wave,
Clasp'd in its favourite sweets, a lasting slave ;
And thus in vain these charming visions please
The wretch of glory, and the slave of ease,
Doom'd ever in ignoble state to pine,
Boast her own scenes, and languish after mine.
But shun her snares; nor let the world exclaim,
Thy birth, which was thy glory, proved thy shame.
With early hope thine infant actions fired,
Let manhood crown what infancy inspired;
Let generous toils with health reward thy days,
Prolong thy prime, and eternize thy praise.
The bold exploit that charms the attesting age,
To latest times shall generous hearts engage;
And with that myrtle shall thy shrine be crown'd,
With which, alive, thy graceful brows were bound,
Till Time shall bid thy virtues freely bloom,
And raise a temple where it found a tomb.

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"Then in their feasts thy name shall Grecians join, Shall pour the sparkling juice to Jove's and thine: Thine, used in war, shall raise their native fire; Thine, used in peace, their mutual faith inspire. Dulness, perhaps, through want of sight, may blame, And Spleen, with odious industry, defame; And that, the honours given, with wonder view, And this, in secret sadness, own them due. Contempt and Envy were by fate design'd The rival tyrants which divide mankind Contempt, which none but who deserve can bear, While Envy's wounds the smiles of Fame repair: For know, the generous thine exploits shall fire, Thine every friend it suits thee to require ; Loved by the gods, and, till their seats I show, Loved by the good, their images below."

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;

Cease, lovely maid! fair daughter of the Skies;
My guide! my queen!" the ecstatic youth replies:
"In thee I trace a form design'd for sway,
Which chiefs may court, and kings with pride obey;
And by thy bright immortal friends I swear,
Thy fair idea shall no toils impair.

Lead me, O lead me! where whole hosts of foes
Thy form depreciate, and thy friends oppose.
Welcome all toils the unequal Fates decree,
While toils endear thy faithful charge to thee.
Such be my cares to bind the oppressive hand,
And crush the fetters of an injured land;
To see the monster's noxious life resign'd,
And tyrants quell'd, the monsters of mankind!
Nature shall smile to view the vanquish'd brood,
And none, but Envy, riot unsubdued.

In cloister'd state let selfish sages dwell,
Proud that their heart is narrow as their cell!

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And boast their mazy labyrinth of rules,
Far less the friends of Virtue, than the fools;
Yet such in vain thy favouring smiles pretend,
For he is thine, who proves his country's friend.
Thus when my life, well spent, the good enjoy,
And the mean envious labour to destroy;
When strongly lured by Fame's contiguous shrine,
I yet devote my choicer vows to thine;

If all my toils thy promised favour claim,

O lead thy favourite through the gates of Fame!"
He ceased his vows, and, with disdainful air,
He turn'd to blast the late exulting fair :
But vanish'd, fled to some more friendly shore,
The conscious phantom's beauty pleased no more ;
Convinced her spurious charms of dress and face,
Claim'd a quick conquest, or a sure disgrace.
Fantastic power! whose transient charms allured,
While Error's mist the reasoning mind obscured;
Not such the victress, Virtue's constant queen,
Endured the test of truth, and dared be seen;
Her brightening form and features seem'd to own,
'Twas all her wish, her interest to be known;
And when his longing view the fair declined,
Left a full image of her charms behind.

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Thus reigns the moon, with furtive splendour crown'd, While glooms oppress us, and thick shades surround; 521 But let the source of light its beams display, Languid and faint the mimic flames decay, And all the sickening splendour fades away.

THE PROGRESS OF TASTE;

OR, THE FATE OF DELICACY.

A POEM ON THE TEMPER AND STUDIES OF THE AUTHOR;

AND HOW GREAT A MISFORTUNE IT IS FOR A MAN OF
SMALL ESTATE TO HAVE MUCH TASTE.

PART FIRST.

Perhaps some cloud eclipsed the day,
When thus I tuned my pensive lay:
"The ship is launch'd-we catch the gale-
On life's extended ocean sail:

For happiness our course we bend,

Our ardent cry, our general end!

Yet, ah! the scenes which tempt our care
Are, like the forms dispersed in air,

Still dancing near disorder'd eyes,

And weakest his who best descries!"

Yet let me not my birthright barter,
(For wishing is the poet's charter;

All bards have leave to wish what's wanted,
Though few e'er found their wishes granted;
Extensive field! where poets pride them
In singing all that is denied them).

For humble ease, ye Powers! I pray;
That plain warm suit for every day,
And pleasure and brocade, bestow,
To flaunt it-once a month, or so.
The first for constant wear we want;
The first, ye Powers! for ever grant;
But constant wear the last bespatters,
And turns the tissue into tatters.

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Where'er my vagrant course I bend,
Let me secure one faithful friend.
Let me, in public scenes, request
A friend of wit and taste, well drest;
And, if I must not hope such favour,
A friend of wit and taste, however.

Alas! that Wisdom ever shuns
To congregate her scatter'd sons,
Whose nervous forces, well combined,
Would win the field, and sway mankind.
The fool will squeeze, from morn to night,
To fix his follies full in sight;

The note he strikes, the plume he shows,
Attract whole flights of fops and beaus,
And kindred fools, who ne'er had known him,
Flock at the sight, caress and own him;
But ill-starr'd Sense, not gay nor loud,
Steals soft on tiptoe through the crowd;
Conveys his meagre form between,
And slides, like pervious air, unseen;
Contracts his known tenuity,

As though 'twere even a crime to be; 1
Nor even permits his eyes to stray,
And win acquaintance in their way.
In company, so mean his air,

You scarce are conscious he is there;
Till from some nook, like sharpen'd steel,
Occurs his face's thin profile,

Still seeming, from the gazer's eye,

Like Venus newly bathed, to fly:

Yet while reluctant he displays
His real gems before the blaze,

1. Even a crime to be:' In like manner Hall said of some bashful man, that he seemed always going about apologizing for the unpardonable liberty of being in the world.