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IV.

From earth and these the muse averts her view,
To meet in yonder sea of ether blue

A beam to which the blaze of noon is pale :
In purpling circles now the glory spreads,
A host of angels now unveil their heads,
While heav'n's own music triumphs on the gale.

Ah see, two white-rob'd seraphs lead
Thy father's venerable shade ;

He bends from yonder cloud of gold,
While they, the ministers of light,

Bear from his breast a mantle bright,
And with the heav'n-wove robe thy youthful limbs enfold.

“ Receive this mystic gift, my son!” he cries, “ And, for so wills the Sov’reign of the skies,

“ With this receive, at Albion's anxious hour,
" A double portion of my patriot zeal,
Active to spread the fire it dar'd to feel
“ Thro' raptur'd senates, and with awful power

“ From the full fountain of the tongue
To call the rapid tide along

“ Till a whole nation caught the flame.
“ So on thy sire shall heav'n bestow,

“ A blessing Tully fail'd to know, And redolent in thee diffuse thy father's fame.

VI.

“ Nor thou, ingenuous boy ! that Fame despise " Which lives and spreads abroad in Heav'n's pure eyes,

IV.

From these the courtly muse averts her eye.
To meet with genuine unaffected joy

A scene that passes in the Closet's gloom; .
In whitening circles the dim glory spreads,
Bedchamber Lords unveil their powder'd heads,
And Tory triumphs sound throughout the room :

Ah! see two Jannisaries lead
Illustrious Bute's thrice-honour'd shade ;

Behind yon curtain did he stand,
Whilst they (which Whigs with horror mark)

Bear from his cloak, a lantern dark,
And trast the hallow'd engine to thy youthful hand.

V.

“. Receive this mystic gift, brave boy,” he cries, “ And if so please the Sovereign of the skies,

" With this receive at GEORGE's anxious hour, A double portion of my Tory zeal, Active to spread the fire it dared to feel, “ Through venal senates, and with boundless pow'r,

“ From the full fountain of the tongue,
“ To roll a tide of words along,

« Till a whole nation is deceived.
“ So shall thy early labours gain

“ A blessing Bute could ne'er attain;
In fact, a Courtier be, yet Patriot be believed.

VI.

“ Nor thou, presumptuous imp, that fame disown, “ Which draws its splendor from a monarch's throne,

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“ The last best energy of noble mind * ; “ Revere thy father's shade ; like him disdain “ The tame, the timid, temporizing train, .. “ Awake to self, to social interest blind :

Young as thou art, occasion calls,
“ Thy country's scale or mounts or falls

“ As thou and thy compatriots strive ;
" Scarce is the fatal moment past

“ That trembling Albion deem'd her last, O knit the union firm, and bid an empire live.

VII.

« Proceed, and vindicate fair Freedom's claim, “ Give life, give strength, give substance to her name;

“ The native rights of man with Fraud contest. “ Yes, snatch them from Corruption’s baleful power, “ Who dares, in Day's broad eye, those rights devour, “ While prelates bow, and bless the harpy feast.

“ If foil'd at first, resume thy course,
“ Rise strengthen'd with Antwan force,

So shall thy toil in conquest end.
· Let others court the tinsel things

“ That hang upon the smile of kings, “ Be thine the muse's wreath ; be thou the people's friend."

* In allusion to a fine and well-known passage in MILTON'S Lycidas.

« Sole energy of many a lordly mind,
" Revere the shade of Bute, subservient still
To the high dictates of the Royal will ;
“ Awake to self, to social interest blind.

Young as thou art, occasion calls,
“ Prerogative or mounts or falls

“ As thou and thy compatriots * strive,
“ Scarce in the fatal moment past

“ Which Secret Influence deem'd her last, “ Oh! save the expiring fiend, and bid her empire live!

VII.

“ Proceed !-Uphold Prerogative's high claim, “ Give life, give strength, give substance to her name !

“ The rights divine of Kings with Whigs contest; “ Save them from Freedom's bold incroaching hand, “ Who dares, in Day's broad eye, those rights withstand, “ And be by Bishops thy endeavours bless'd!"

If foil'd at first, resume thy course,
Whilst I, though writing worse and worse,

Thy glorious efforts will record;
Let others seek by other ways,

The public's unavailing praise,
Be mine the Butt OF SACK—be thou the TREASUR Y's

LORD!

* Messrs. JENKINSON, ROBINSON, DUNDAS, &c. &c.

CU

THE STATESMEN :

AN ECLOGUE.

LANSDOWNE.
While on the Treasury-Bench you, Pitt, recline,
And make men wonder at each vast design;
I, hapless man, my harsher fate deplore,
Ordain'd to view the regal face no more;
That face which erst on me with rapture glow'd,
And smiles responsive to my smiles bestow'd:
But now the Court I leave, my native home,
“ A banish'd man, condemn'd in woods to roam ;"
While you to senates, BRUNSWICK's mandates give,
And teach white-wands to chaunt his high prerogative.

5

10

PITT.

Oh! LANSDOWNE, 'twas a more than mortal pow'r
My fate controul’d, in that auspicious hour,

THE STATESMEN.] It will be unnecessary to inform the classical reader, that this Eclogue evidently coni mences as an imitation of the ist, of Virgil--the Author, however, with a boldness perfectly characteristic of the personages he was to represent, has in the progress of his work carefully avoided every thing like a too close adherence to his original design.

Line 8.- A banish'd man, &c.] Vide the noble Marquis's celebrated speech, on the no less celebrated IRISH PROPOSITIONS.

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