So thine his genuine Sons, whofe fountains spread The ftreams they borrow from a latent head: Which, like Sarepta's oil, perceive no waft 5 Pour'd out as freely, and fupply'd as faft. In various orbs here worthies measure years, So many funs about their proper fpheres; Or Merceries, which Providence doth place, To hold out fingers and point out the race. Who fees unmov'd the bright exemplars move? Who views their lines and falls not ftraight in love? The God-like Hero, whofe juft paffions bend To reafon's laws, and know not to offend; Who fees and burns not, but wou'd fain controul 6 His jarring contra, and difcording foul? O hail! ve mighty pilots at the helm; Ye conftellations of the English realm! Whofe diff'ring glories varioufly engage To form new Heroes, and reform the age! All hail! ye high and honour'd fons of heav'n! To whom the grace and mighty truft is giv’a ; In foreign lands to plant a chriftian race, And water Indian foil with British grace: Zzz

Thro' winds and waves new realms and crowns to
And call the Gentile and the nations in. (win;
Lo future harvefts fhall reward your pain;
Thy pain, great foul, and Hero of thefcene! 140
Tranfcendent profpect! which we half behold,
A new Britannia rifing from the old;
As fair, as free, as pious, and as wife:
To fhine on earth, and to improve the skies. 144

The great length of fome Pieces fent in for thefe Prizes prevents their being inferted, and to continue inferting Montbly others not chargeable with that Objection, must retard the Decifion, we think therofore to conclude the Subject with the following Short Poem; giving this Satisfaltion to the Candidates, that the Author of it does not enter the Lifts as a Competitor for the propofed Rewards.

CRANMER.

The Chriftian Hero.

"T IS o'er-atlength & mighty conflict's o'er,

And fear, pale tyrant, chills the foul no
< Secure in virtue, and confirm'd in faith, [more.
I fmile at torments, and e'en welcome death.
O come! He flies, as fearful to engage,
Pointless his fting, and baffled all his rage.
Back from my courting hand the flames retire,
Or, faintly trembling to their prey aspire!
That treach'rous handdar'd avow diftruft,
Seize it, ye flames, O labour to be just!.
Unfelt your pow'r; my ravifh'd thoughts attain
Far nobler heights, nor can attend to pain.
Quick thro' my breaft tumult'ous tranfportsroll,
And light celeftial breaks upon my foul!
Rapt to the verge of time, methinks I rife
Midft hymning feraphs, and refounding skies!
And-far beneath me fee this penfile ball,
Woods, mountains, feas, in fiery ruin fall!
See! loft in blood the moon's pale orb decay,
And the dim fun fink in a brighter day!
And now defcending from th'empyreal fphere!
My GOD, my SAVIOUR and my JUDGE appear!
< -O how unlike what Calvari furvey'd
When weeping angels hung the drooping head,
When, robb'd of glory, and his pow'r defy'd,
AI MIGHTY fuffer'd, and ETERNAL dy'd!
O how unlike!-but far let grief remove,
Whilft thus felected 'midft the juft I rove.
In filence pafs the finner's parting groan;
The dreadful fentence, and JUDGE's frown.
'Tis gone and now fuch fcenes my fight em-
Too great for fenfe, 'tis agony of joy! [ploy,
He comes, he beckons to the realms of day
His chofen bands, and points the promis'd way;
High waves the cross along th' ætherial plain,
Triumphant leader of the martyr train;
On wings of winds regains the bleft abodes,
And tho' defpis'd on earth, fhines forth the
GOD of GODS.

Thus fpoke man whom copying angels drew,
As Peter tim❜rous, and as Peter true.

Thus CRANMER fpoke, while crouds around
him ftood,

Fond of destruction, and athirst for blood.
No rifing tears one human frailty fhow,
No confcious drop ftands trembling on his brow,
Serene he triumphs 'midft the blazing pyre,
Beholds with joy to heav'n the flames afpire,
And like a new Elijah mounts in fire!

ACTEON.

Mutato nomine, de te Fabula narratur.
A TALE.
ACTEON (as old stories fhew)

Hert

Delighted in the wily grove,
Kept hounds, as our poor fportfmen do,
Nor envied he imperial Jove:
But once tranfported in a chace
(You must not mind what Ovid fays)
Pleas'd with the mufick of his hounds,
Amidst his raptures cries G-D-Z-DS
Not Jove with his Pierian pack
Can half fuch charming difcord make.
The god enrag'd that any he
Shou'd thus debafe his harmony,
Cries, fure, I'll end this mortal's days,
The careless sportsman chanc'd to steer
And thus he perfects what he says.
His courfe, indeed he knew not where;
(Such was the will of mighty Jove)
Where the bright goddess of the wood,
At laft he fray'd into a grove,
Whilft each officious in her place
With all her nymphs around her, stood;
Wip'd off the labours of the chace.
'Twas there the wond'ring mortal view'd,
In fhort, (left longer Verfe fhou'd flag)
And grew a wonder as he flood:
The man was turn'd into a flag;
But if my word is not rely'd on,
See Ovid, or our Ovid-Dryden.
There you will find his fafety flown,
Infectious to himself he's grown,
And by thofe hounds, is now purfued,
He once with fo much pleafure view'd:
The fatal breath he leaves behind
They catch juft dancing in the wind,
And as the diftant plain they fcour
Eager the well-known fcent devour:
Unhappy ftate! that common breath
From ev'ry motion death must flow,
Which gives us life, fhou'd give him death;
To breathe, or not to breathe, is fo.
With hafte the fnuffing pack pursue.
With trembling hafte Acteon flew,
Nor fear, nor fpeed cou'd ought avail,
And fo to end my chace and tale,
What to his honour much redounds,
He died a victim to his hounds.

The MORAL of my tale will tell us
How often fall fach gallant fellows;
Harh forward-is their conftant cry,
Backward they never caft an eye.
Here, Ovid, here, without thy fancy,
Alteons now we dayly can fee
Strangely bereft of human nature
Quite chang'd into a beaftly creature,
Exceeding far all prudent bounds,
Devour'd at laft too by their Hounds.
Moft frequent now before our eyes
A freth Alteon yearly dies.

The 'fquire, fir, fo decay'd is grown,
He drinks his ale with farmer John.
Pray why? 'twas dogs that brought him

down.

The knight, (a lover of the fport)
Is now reduc'd to humble port,
Expenfive hounds will foon devour him,
Juft as they did this wretch before him.

RATTEUS.

+ Mrs

See Farewell to Bath p. 287.
Chandler. See part of her Poem Vol. IV. p. 566.

JOB ch. XXXVIII, &c. Paraphras’d.
Efcending fwift from his fublime abode,

Does thy right-hand the winged thunder aim,
And at the deftin'd object dart its flame?

D Informs and whirlwinds f Almighty rode, Say, why or whence diffolving ather flows,

The pointed lightning's blazing terrors fly,
With ruddy vengeance, thro' the yielding sky,
Convulfions fhake the earth, the mountains nod,
Ant Nature trembles at the approach of God.

10

He fpoke Vain offspring of congenial clay!
Proud of thy boafted reafon's glimmering ray,
Will thifting feafons own thy pow'rful will
Or conftellations thy commands fulfil?
Canft thou the Pleiads' grateful pow'r reftrain?
Or can thy bidding loofe Orion's chain?
Thy skill new laws to Mazzarath prescribe?
Or regulate Arcturus and his tribe?
Refponfive to thy God, before him stand,
And anfwer boldly to his juft demand.
Where wert thou, fay, when this capacious ball
Leap'd into form at my Almighty call?
When my creating hand, with great defign,
Laid downy measures, and ftretch'd outfline. 20
When from the void of over-fhadowing night,
Difcord I chac'd, and nature fprang to light.
When ftars harmonious join'd concertive long,
And æther with the acclamations rung;
Whilft choiring angels fung feraphic lays,
And hallelujahs hymn'd the Maker's praife.
When firft emerging from lethargic fleep
The waken'd tempeft vex'd the filent deep,
Who was it ftem'd the loud tumultuous tide?
Controul'd its force, and bid its waves fubfide?
When the dark vifage of primeval night
Screen'd its blank form from penetrating fight?
'Twas I, thy maker, taught it where to flow,
Mark'd out its bounds, and faid, no farther go.
At thy command does blufhing morn arife,
And gild with orient beams the rofy skies:
Or did thy potent word abroad difplay
The ftreaming fplendour of the purple day?
Who to a globe the fun's vaft compass roll'd?
Who feeds waftelefs fires its glowing gold? 40
Swiftly he moves, refulgent in his fphere,
And measures out the day, and bounds the year:
In high meridian, his diffufive blaze,
Pierces the fervid earth with keener rays;
But lefs intenfe, at even's calm, his beams
In foft effufion pour refreshing gleams.

30

fleep

In rain refreshing, and a spring bestows?
Doft thou upon earth'.
The balmy pearl-drops of nocturnal dews?
pregnant womb diffufe
That defart lands fpringing flow'rs may bloom,
Their fweets repanding in a rich perfume.
Doft thou with fhowers refresh the fyluan scene è
Or deck earth's borders with its varied green?
Does the dread monarch of the devious wood,
The lyon, at thy hand, expect his food? 80
Who paints the verdant mead, or azure sky?
Why trikes the peacock's train the gazing eye
When the bright fun darts bis reflecting ray,
The rival colours flafh the blazing day.
Doft thou inftruct the eagle how to fly;
To cut the yielding air, and mount the sky?
Perch'd on a rock's afpiring cliff, the shrouds
Her callow young ones in a neft of clouds:
Sublimely bears against the blaze of day,
Delights in blood, and darts upon her prey.
Doft thou with thunder arm the gen'rous horfe,
Add nervous limbs, and fwiftnefs for the courfe
He shoots along the lawn with loofen'd reins,
His hoofs fcarce make impreffion on the plains.
On his right fide his curling mane reclin'd,
Waves in the gale, and wantons in the wind:
He paws impatient, and erects his ears,
The blazing fire fwift from his noftrils flies,
His fprightly foul admits no daunting fears:
And darting luftre flashes in his eyes:
He hears the thrilling trumpet's martial found,
Then prances, paws, and fwallows up grounds
Toffes his head, and pushes empty air,
Neighs at the fhout, and inuffs the promis'd war.
His heated blood tumultuous tides impart,
Flows in his reins, and charges from his heart.
He mocks the arrow glancing from the bow,
Laughs at the fpear, and rushes on the foe.

Didit thou with lucid orbs inlay the fpheres ?
Or fpangle night's all shrouding veil with stars?
The moon her tremulous effulgence ftreams,
And rules the darkned globe milder beams. 50
Sweetly inconftant, at decrease she shrouds
Her fading luftre in a veil of clouds;
But foon her renovating beams display
A flow of light, and yield a paler day.
Haft thou explor'd th' amazing works
In the dark bofom of the filent deep?
Haft thou death's gloomy caverns e'er furvey'd?
Or have thine eye-balls pierc'd mantling fhade?
Say, why the fleeces of defcending fnow,
With lucid whitenefs fpread & mead below? 60
Say, why fhou'd froft the rapid floods congeal?
And hoary hills the ftringent influence feel?
Know't thou why chryftal hail rufhing found
Rends ambient air, and rattles on the ground?
Say, whence had Eurus his velocious flight,
And rofy wings diffusing orient light?
At thy Command does forked vengeance fly,
And fweep its glaring terrors thro' the sky ?

100

Tenthoufand wonders ftrike wond'ring eye 10
In feas, on earth, in air, and boundless skies,
What comprehenfion can that being know,,
Which form'd heights above,the depths below!
Too weak his bright perfections to explore,
Let men and angels tremble and adore.

LABEO.

Note, We hear the celebrated Story of Inkle and Yarico is done in Heroic Verfe by this Author, in order for Publication.

To a Lady, with Paradife Loft.
WHen nature first her Milton's foul endue'd,
With confcious pride the wond'rous work
Now for a virgin, cries the plastick dame,
the view'd:
All that to words gives foftness let her share;
To wake his genius, and expand its flame.
To features grace, or dignity to air,
While new creation bloom'd beneath his eye.
Like her who taught, the first form'd fire to figh,
But lab'ring long, fhe found task more hard,
Then truck him blind, her impotence to hide,
To form the beauty than to fire the bard:
But his ideas her defects supply'd.
Vex'd and out done, her cares no more pursue
The toil, but, copying after him, form'd you.
G. W.

Academ's Plass in our next.

THE following lines were wrote upon a very beautiful young Lady's wagering with me, that I should not pat her into the MAG. under the name of CELIA. If you indulge a northern Correfpondent fo far as to give it Place, 'twill farther oblige one who is already very much Your Humble Servant.

RITHEE, CALIA, think not I
Will love thee for a lip, or eye;
A dimpl'd cheek, or jetty hair,
A velvet neck, or bofom fair,
A taper'd arm, as marble white;
Or fhape, that ravishes the fight:
Charms for which thousand lovers die,
-No, my CALIA-no, not I.
Thefe and whate'er can pleafe 'tis true,
Dear maid, are center'd all in you.
I'll gtant you've all thofe pretty graces,
That give you ladies angel faces."
But from virgin fear or pride
All thofe charms are mifapply'd.

Deareft, the beauties of thy face
With other charms, will fade apace.
That lefs'ning fhape and heaving breaft,
Which now difturb the lover's reft,
Ah! foon (a few fhort feafons o'er)
Will warm the amor'ous youths no more.
See'ft thou in yonder vale below,
The ripening peach and apple grow.
Tho' now with lufcious juice they fwell,
Of golden hue, of fragrant fmell,
If kept till winter, nature's night,
They lofe their worth and beauty quite:
Their fragrance, juice, and golden hue;
They mortal are and CALIA too.