Yet, WHITEHEAD, 'tis too foon to lose you: Let critics flatter or abuse you,
O! teach us, ere you change the scene To Stygian banks from Hippocrene,
How free-born bards fhould strike the strings,
And how a Briton write to kings.
VERSES on the Profpect of planting ARTS and LEARNING in AMERICA.
By Dr. BERKELEY, Bishop of CLOYNE®.
THE Mufe, difgufted at an age and clime,
Barren of every glorious theme,
In diftant lands now waits a better time, Producing fubjects worthy fame:
In happy climes, where from the genial fun And virgin earth such scenes enfue, The force of art by nature seems outdone, And fancied beauties by the true :
a Written about the year 1728, when the author had in view the scheme of founding a college at Bermudas, which failed of fuccefs in the attempt.
In happy climes, the feat of innocence, Where nature guides and virtue rules, Where men shall not impofe for truth and sense The pedantry of courts and schools:
There fhall be fung another golden age, The rife of empire and of arts, The good and great inspiring epic rage, The wifeft heads, and nobleft hearts.
Not fuch as Europe breeds in her decay;
Such as the bred when fresh and
young, When heav'nly flame did animate her clay,
By future poets shall be fung.
Weftward the course of empire takes its way;
The four first acts already past,
A fifth fhall close the drama with the day; Time's nobleft offspring is the last.
ELIEVE me, MASON, 'tis in vain
Thy fortitude the torrent braves; Thou too must bear th' inglorious chain; The world, the world will have its flaves. The chofen friend, for converse sweet, The small, yet elegant retreat,
Are peaceful unambitious views
Which early fancy loves to form, When, aided by the ingenuous Muse, She turns the philofophic page, And fees the wife of every age With Nature's dictates warm.
But ah! to few has Fortune given The choice, to take or to refuse; To fewer ftill indulgent Heaven
Allots the very will to chufe.
And why are varying schemes preferr❜d? Man mixes with the common herd,
In happy climes, the feat of innocence, Where nature guides and virtue rules, Where men shall not impose for truth and sense The pedantry of courts and schools:
There shall be fung another golden age, The rife of empire and of arts, The good and great inspiring epic rage, The wifeft heads, and noblest hearts.
Not fuch as Europe breeds in her decay; Such as the bred when fresh and young, When heav'nly flame did animate her clay, By future poets shall be fung.
Westward the course of empire takes its way; The four first acts already past,
A fifth fhall close the drama with the day; Time's nobleft offspring is the laft.
By WILLIAM WHITEHEAD, Efq;
ELIEVE me, MASON, 'tis in vain Thy fortitude the torrent braves; Thou too must bear th' inglorious chain; The world, the world will have its flaves. The chofen friend, for converse sweet, The small, yet elegant retreat, Are peaceful unambitious views.
Which early fancy loves to form, When, aided by the ingenuous Muse, She turns the philofophic page, And fees the wife of every age With Nature's dictates warm.
But ah! to few has Fortune given The choice, to take or to refuse; To fewer still indulgent Heaven
Allots the very will to chuse.
And why are varying schemes preferr'd? Man mixes with the common herd,
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