III. 2. Yet born to conquer is her power: III. 3. While thus our vows prolong Thy steps on earth, and when by us resign'd Thou join'st thy seniors, that heroic throng Who rescu'd 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. ODE VIII.14 I. Ir rightly tuneful bards decide, If it be fix'd in Love's decrees, That Beauty ought not to be tried But by its native power to please, Then tell me, youths and lovers, tell, What fair can Amoret excel? II. Behold that bright unsullied smile, III. But neither music, nor the powers Of youth and mirth and frolic cheer, Add half that sunshine to the hours, Or make life's prospect half so clear, As memory brings it to the eye From scenes where Amoret was by. IV. Yet not a satirist could there Or fault or indiscretion find; Nor any prouder sage declare One virtue, pictur'd in his mind, Whose form with lovelier colours glows Than Amoret's demeanor shows. v. This sure is Beauty's happiest part: ODE IX. AT STUDY. I. WHITHER did my fancy stray? Have I left my studious theme? From this philosophic page, Wandering through a pleasing dream? II. "Tis in vain, alas! I find, Much in vain, my zealous mind Would to learned Wisdom's throne Dedicate each thoughtful hour: Nature bids a softer power Claim some minutes for his own. III. Let the busy or the wise View him with contemptuous eyes; Love is native to the heart: BOOK II. Guide its wishes as you will, IV. Me though no peculiar fair Though the pride of my desire V. Though the day have smoothly gone, Or in social duty spent ; Yet at eve my lonely breast ODE X. TO THOMAS EDWARDS, ESQ.: ON THE LATE EDITION OF MR. POPE'S WORKS. 1751.15 I. BELIEVE me, Edwards, to restrain Is what but seldom men obtain Of leisure in the Muse's bowers. II. In bowers where laurel weds with palm, III. Who then from her delightful bounds IV. Tell how displeas'd was every bard, V. How Virgil mourn'd the sordid fate Beneath a tutor who so late With Midas and his rout combin'd |