Deep through her bounds the city felt his call; Each crowded haunt was stirr'd beneath his

power,

And murmuring challeng'd the deciding hour Of that too vast event, the hope and dread of all.

VII.

O ye good powers who look on human kind,
Instruct the mighty moments as they roll;
And watch the fleeting shapes in Curio's mind,
And steer his passions steady to the goal.
O Alfred, father of the English name,

O valiant Edward, first in civil fame,
O William, height of public virtue pure,
Bend from your radiant seats a joyful eye,
Behold the sum of all your labours nigh, [cure.
Your plans of law complete, your ends of rule se-

VIII.

'Twas then O shame! O soul from faith estrang'd!

O Albion oft to flattering vows a prey! 'Twas then-Thy thought what sudden frenzy chang'd?

What rushing palsy took thy strength away? Is this the man in Freedom's cause approv'd? The man so great, so honour'd, so belov'd? Whom the dead envied and the living bless'd? This patient slave by tinsel bonds allur'd? This wretched suitor for a boon abjur'd? Whom those that fear'd him, scorn; that trusted him, detest?

IX.

O lost alike to action and repose!

With all that habit of familiar fame,

Sold to the mockery of relentless foes,

And doom'd to exhaust the dregs of life in shame, To act with burning brow and throbbing heart A poor deserter's dull exploded part,

To slight the favour thou canst hope no more, Renounce the giddy crowd, the vulgar wind, Charge thy own lightness on thy country's mind, And from her voice appeal to each tame foreign shore.

X.

But England's sons, to purchase thence applause, Shall ne'er the loyalty of slaves pretend, By courtly passions try the public cause, Nor to the forms of rule betray the end. O race erect! by manliest passions mov'd, The labours which to Virtue stand approv'd, Prompt with a lover's fondness to survey; Yet, where Injustice works her wilful claim, Fierce as the flight of Jove's destroying flame, Impatient to confront, and dreadful to repay.

XI.

These thy heart owns no longer. In their room
See the grave queen of pageants, Honour, dwell
Couch'd in thy bosom's deep tempestuous gloom
Like some grim idol in a sorcerer's cell.
Before her rites thy sickening reason flew,
Divine Persuasion from thy tongue withdrew,

BOOK I.

While Laughter mock'd, or Pity stole a sigh: Can Wit her tender movements rightly frame Where the prime function of the soul is lame? Can Fancy's feeble springs the force of Truth. supply?

XII.

But come; 'tis time: strong Destiny impends
To shut thee from the joys thou hast betray'd:
With princes fill'd, the solemn fane ascends,
By Infamy, the mindful demon sway'd.

There vengeful vows for guardian laws effac'd,
From nations fetter'd, and from towns laid waste,
For ever through the spacious courts resound :
There long posterity's united groan
And the sad charge of horrors not their own,
Assail the giant chiefs, and press them to the
ground.

XIII.

In sight old Time, imperious judge, awaits:
Above revenge, or fear, or pity, just,
He urgeth onward to those guilty gates
The Great, the Sage, the Happy, and August.
And still he asks them of the hidden plan
Whence every treaty, every war began,
Evolves their secrets and their guilt proclaims;
And still his hands despoil them on the road
Of each vain wreath by lying bards bestow'd,
And crush their trophies huge, and raze their sculp-

tur'd names.

XIV.

Ye mighty shades, arise, give place, attend:
Here his eternal mansion Curio seeks :

Low doth proud Wentworth to the stranger

bend,

And his dire welcome hardy Clifford speaks :
"He comes, whom fate with surer arts prepar'd
To accomplish all which we but vainly dar'd;
Whom o'er the stubborn herd she taught to reign:
Who sooth'd with gaudy dreams their raging

power

Even to its last irrevocable hour;

Then baffled their rude strength, and broke them to the chain."

XV.

But ye, whom yet wise Liberty inspires,

Whom for her champions o'er the world she claims,

(That household godhead whom of old your sires
Sought in the woods of Elbe and bore to Thames)
Drive ye this hostile omen far away;
Their own fell efforts on her foes repay;

Your wealth, your arts, your fame, be hers alone: Still gird your swords to combat on her side; Still frame your laws her generous test to abide, And win to her defence the altar and the throne.

XVI.

Protect her from yourselves, ere yet the flood Of golden Luxury, which Commerce pours,

Hath spread that selfish fierceness through your

blood,

Which not her lightest discipline endures;

Snatch from fantastic demagogues her cause; Dream not of Numa's manners, Plato's laws: A wiser founder, and a nobler plan,

O sons of Alfred, were for you assign'd: Bring to that birthright but an equal mind, And no sublimer lot will fate reserve for man.

ODE X.8

то THE MUSE.

I.

QUEEN of my songs, harmonious maid,
Ah why hast thou withdrawn thy aid?
Ah why forsaken thus my breast
With inauspicious damps oppress'd?
Where is the dread prophetic heat,
With which my bosom wont to beat?
Where all the bright mysterious dreams
Of haunted groves and tuneful streams,
That woo'd my genius to divinest themes?

II.

Say, goddess, can the festal board,
Or young Olympia's form ador'd;
Say, can the pomp of promis'd fame
Relume thy faint, thy dying flame?