To hurl the dart, to ride the car,
To stem the deluges of war,
And snatch from fate a sinking land;
Trample the' Invader's lofty crest,
And from his grasp the dagger wrest,
And desolating brand:
'Twas this, that rais'd thy illustrious Line To match the first in fame!
A thousand years have seen it shine
With unabated flame;
Have seen thy mighty sires appear
Foremost in Glory's high career,
The pride and pattern of the brave:
Yet pure from lust of blood their fire,
And from Ambition's wild desire,
They triumph'd but to save.
The Muse with joy attends their way
The vale of peace along ;
There to its lord the village gay
Renews the grateful song.
Yon castle's glittering towers contain
No pit of woe, nor clanking chain,
Nor to the suppliant's wail resound;
The open doors the needy bless,
The' unfriended hail their calm recess,
And gladness smiles around.
There to the sympathetic heart
Life's best delights belong,
To mitigate the mourner's smart,
To guard the weak from wrong.
Ye Sons of Luxury be wise:
Know, happiness for ever flies
The cold and solitary breast;
Then let the social instinct glow,
And learn to feel another's woe,
And in his joy be bless'd.
O yet, ere Pleasure plant her snare
For unsuspecting youth;
Ere Flattery her song prepare
To check the voice of Truth;
O may his country's guardian power
Attend the slumbering Infant's bower,
And bright inspiring dreams impart;
To rouse the' hereditary fire,
To kindle each sublime desire,
Exalt and warm the heart.
Swift to reward a Parent's fears,
A Parent's hopes to crown,
Roll on in peace ye blooming years,
That rear him to renown;
When in his finish'd form and face
Admiring multitudes shall trace
Each patrimonial charm combin❜d,
The courteous yet majestic mien,
The liberal smile, the look serene,
The great and gentle mind.
Yet, though thou draw a nation's eyes,
And win a nation's love;
Let not thy towering mind despise
The village and the grove.
No slander there shall wound thy fame,
No ruffian take his deadly aim,
No rival weave the secret snare :
For Innocence, with angel smile,
Simplicity, that knows no guile,
And Love and Peace are there.
When winds the mountain-oak assail,
And lay its glories waste;
Content may slumber in the vale,
Unconscious of the blast.
Through scenes of tumult while we roam,
The heart, alas! is ne'er at home,
It hopes in time to roam no more;
The mariner, not vainly brave,
Combats the storm, and rides the wave,
To rest at last on shore.
Ye proud, ye selfish, ye severe,
How vain your mask of state!
The good alone have joy sincere,
The good alone are great :
Great, when amid the vale of peace
They bid the plaint of sorrow cease,
And hear the voice of artless praise;
As, when along the trophied plain
Sublime they lead the victor-train,
While shouting nations gaze.
(From the Latin af Addison, 1762.)
THE pigmy people, and the feather'd train,
Mingling in mortal combat on the plain,
I sing. Ye Muses, favour my designs,
Lead on my squadrons, and arrange the lines;
The flashing swords and fluttering wings display,
And long bills nibbling in the bloody fray;
Cranes darting with disdain on tiny foes, [woes.
Conflicting birds and men, and war's unnumber'd
The wars and woes of heroes six feet long
Have oft resounded in Pierian song
Who has not heard of Colchos' golden fleece, And Argo mann'd with all the flower of Greece? Of Thebes' fell brethren, Theseus stern of face, And Peleus' son unrivall'd in the race,
Eneas founder of the Roman line,
And William glorious on the banks of Boyne?
Who has not learn'd to weep at Pompey's woes,
And over Blackmore's epic page to doze?
'Tis I, who dare attempt unusual strains,
Of hosts unsung, and unfrequented plains;
The small shrill trump, and chiefs of little size,
And armies rushing down the darken'd skies.
Where India reddens to the early dawn, Winds a deep vale from vulgar eye withdrawn :
Bosom❜d in groves the lowly region lies,
And rocky mountains round the border rise.
Here, till the doom of Fate its fall decreed,
The empire flourish'd of the pigmy-breed;
Here Industry perform'd, and Genius plan'd,
And busy multitudes o'erspread the land.
But now to these lone bounds if pilgrim stray,
Tempting through craggy cliffs the desperate way,
He finds the puny mansion fallen to earth,
Its godlings mouldering on the' abandon'd hearth; And starts, where small white bones are spread around,
"Or little footsteps lightly print the ground;" While the proud crane her nest securely builds, Chattering amid the desolated fields:
But different fates befel her hostile rage, While reign'd, invincible through many an age, The dreaded pigmy: rous'd by war's alarms Forth rush'd the madding mannikin to arms. Fierce to the field of death the hero flies; The faint crane fluttering flaps the ground, and dies;
And by the victor borne (o'erwhelming load!)
With bloody bill loose-dangling marks the road :
And oft the wily dwarf in ambush lay,
And often made the callow young his prey;
With slaughter'd victims heap'd his board,and smil'd
To' avenge the parent's trespass on the child.
Oft, where his feather'd foe had rear'd her nest,
And laid her eggs and household gods to rest,
Burning for blood, in terrible array,
The eighteen-inch militia burst their way:
All went to wreck; the infant foemen fell,
When scarce his chirping bill had broke the shell.
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