O Peace! thy injur'd robes up-bind!

Oh rise, and leave not one behind

Of all thy beamy train :

The British lion, Goddess sweet!

Lies stretch'd on earth to kiss thy feet,

And own thy holier reign.

Let others court thy transient smile,

But come to grace thy western isle,

By warlike Honor led!

And, while around her ports rejoice,

While all her sons adore thy choice,

With him for ever wed!

THE MANNERS.

AN OD E.

FAREWELL, for clearer ken design'd ;

The dim-discover'd tracts of mind:

Truths which, from action's paths retir'd, My silent search in vain requir'd,

No more my sail that deep explores,

No more I search those magic shores,

What regions part the world of soul,

Or whence thy streams, Opinion, roll:

If e'er I round such Fairy field,

Some

power impart the spear and shield,

At which the wizard Passions fly,

By which the giant Follies die!

Farewell the porch, whose roof is seen,

Arch'd with th' enlivening olive's green:
Where Science, prank'd in tissued vest,

By Reason, Pride, and Fancy drest,
Comes like a bride, so trim array'd,

To wed with Doubt in Plato's shade!

Youth of the quick uncheated sight,

Thy walks, Observance, more invite!

O thou, who lov'st that ampler range,

Where life's wide prospects round thee change,

And, with her mingled sons allied,

Throw'st the prattling page aside;

To me in converse sweet impart,

To read in man the native heart,

To learn, where Science sure is found,

From Nature as she lives around:

And gazing oft her mirror true,

By turns each shifting image view!
Till meddling Art's officious lore,

Reverse the lessons taught before,

Alluring from a safer rule,

To dream in her enchanted school;

Thou, Heaven, whate'er of great we boast,

Hast blest this social science most.

Retiring hence to thoughtful cell,

As Fancy breathes her potent spell,
Not vain she finds the charmful task,
In pageant quaint, in motley mask,

Behold, before her musing eyes,

The countless Manners round her rise;

While ever varying as they pass,

To some Contempt applies her glass:

With these the white-rob'd Maids combine,

And those the laughing Satyrs join!

But who is he whom now she views,

In robe of wild contending hues ?
Thou by the passions nurs'd; I greet

The comic sock that binds thy feet!

O Humour, thou whose name is known

To Britain's favour'd isle alone :

Me too amidst thy band admit,

There where the young-eyed healthful Wit,

(Whose jewels in his crisped hair

Are plac'd each other's beams to share,