Thro' private life pursue thy course,
Trace every action to its fource,
And means and motives weigh:
Put tempers, paffions in the scale,
Mark what degrees in each prevail,
And fix the doubtful fway.
That laft, beft effort of thy skill,
To form the life, and rule the will,
Propitious pow'r! impart;
Teach me to cool my paffions fires,
Make me the judge of my defires,
The mafter of my heart.
Raise me above the vulgar's breath,
Pursuit of fortune, fear of death,
And all in life that's mean.
Still true to reason be my plan,
Still let my actions speak the man,
Thro' every various scene.
Hail! queen of manners, light of truth;
Hail! charm of age, and guide of youth;
Sweet refuge of diftrefs:
In business, thou! exact, polite;
Thou giv'ft Retirement its delight,
Profperity its grace.
Of wealth, pow'r, freedom, thou! the caufe;
Foundrefs of order, cities, laws,
Of arts inventrefs, thou!
Without thee, what were human kind?
How vaft their wants, their thoughts how blind!
Their joys how mean! how few!
Sun of the foul? thy beams unveil !
Let others spread the daring fail,
On Fortune's faithlefs fea :
While undeluded, happier I
From the vain tumult timely fly,
And fit in peace with Thee,
ET once more, sweetest Queen of Song,
Thy humble fuppliant lead along,
Thro' Fancy's flow'ry plains :
Oh bear me to th' ideal grove,
Where hand in hand the Graces rove,
And footh me with feraphic ftrains!
'Tis thine, harmonious maid, to cull
Delicious balm to heal our cares;
"Tis thine to take the prifon'd foul,
And lap it in Elysian airs;
While quick as thought at thy divine command
The realms of grace, and harmony expand.
I. 2.
And lo before my ravifht eyes
The vifionary scenes arife!
I hear the tender lute complain,
While Sappho breathes her am'rous pain;
(O guard me from fuch fierce defires,
Thou God of Raptures, God of Fires!)
I hear Anacreon's honey'd tongue
To love and wine repeat the fong;
His flight fublime the Theban fwan prepares,
And louder mufic wakes the wond'ring fpheres.
I. 3.
But hark how fweet the numbers fwell,
While Homer waves his foul-enchanting wand!
Entranc'd the lift'ning Paffions ftand,
Charm'd with the magic of his fhell.
Whether to arms his trump refounds,
The heart with martial ardour bounds
Or fprightly themes his hand employ,
Inftant we catch the fpreading joy;
Or when in notes majeftic, deep, and flow,
He bids the folemn ftreams of forrow flow,
Amaz'd we hear the fadly-pleasing strain,
While tender anguifh fteals thro' ev'ry vein.
Father of verfe, whofe eagle-flight
Fatigues the gazer's aching fight,
And ftrains th' afpiring mind;
Teach me thy wond'rous heights to view,
With trembling wing thy fteps pursue,
And leave the leis'ning world behind.
Fond, foolish wish!-Can human eyes
The rapid arrow's track defcry?
Can grofs Mortality arife,
And spring beyond the vaulted sky?
Loft is the momentary path, and bound
By cum'brous chains we creep along the ground!
Yet fome there are with pow'r endow'd
To foar above the groveling crowd;
By thee, fair Fancy, rapt'rous maid,
By thee, O fweet Enthufiaft, led,
Sublime beyond the milky way
With ftrong feraphic plumes they stray;
Or pierce within the facred fhade,
Where Nature's plaftic forms are laid;
Then ftrike with daring hands the magic ftrings,
And warm to life a new creation springs.
Hail chofen few, whofe happier birth
The Mufe beheld, and bad your due feet climb
Fame's flipp'ry hill, and paths fublime,
Untrod by vulgar fons of earth!
When virtue droops all fick and pale,
In bleak Misfortune's defart vale,
'Tis your's to steal away
And foftly footh the pensive fair:
'Tis your's to cull, from fancy's fairy stores,
The brighteft gems, and sweetest-breathing flow'rs,
Then bind with Dædal art fuch wreaths divine,]
As bloom fecure on truth's immortal shrine.
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