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As rolling years matur'd his age,

He flourish'd bold and sinewy as his sire; While the mild passions in his breast assuage The fiercer flames of his maternal sire.

ANTISTROPHE.

Accomplish'd thus, he wing'd his way,
And zealous rov'd from pole to pole,
The rolls of right eternal to display,

And warm with patriot thoughts th' aspiring soul. On desert isles 'twas he that rais'd

Those spires that gild the Adriatic wave, Where Tyranny beheld amaz'd

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Fair Freedom's temple, where he mark'd her

He steel'd the blunt Batavian's arms

To burst th' Iberian's double chain; And cities rear'd, and planted farms,

Won from the skirts of Neptune's wide domain He, with the generous rustics sate

On Uri's rocks in close divan;

And wing'd that arrow, sure as fate,

Which ascertained the sacred rights of man.

STROPHE.

Arabia's scorching sands he cross'd,
Where blasted Nature pants supine ;
Conductor of her tribes adust,

To Freedom's adamantine shrine;

And many a Tartar-horde forlorn, aghast,

He snatch'd from under fell Oppression's wing;

And taught amidst the dreary waste

Th' all-cheering hymns of Liberty to sing.

VOL. III,

3*

He virtue finds, like precious ore,

Diffus'd through every baser mould,
Ev'n now he stands on Calvi's rocky shore,
And turns the dross of Corsica to gold.
He, guardian genius, taught my youth
Pomp's tinsel livery to despise:
My lips by him chastis'd to truth,

Ne'er paid that homage which the heart denies.

ANTISTROPHE.

Those sculptur'd halls my feet shall never tread,
Where varnish'd Vice and Vanity combin'd,
To dazzle and seduce, their banners spread;
And forge vile shackles for the free-born mind.
Where Insolence his wrinkled front uprears,

And all the flowers of spurious Fancy blow;
And Title his ill-woven chaplet wears,

Full often wreath'd around the miscreant's brow; Where ever-dimpling Falsehood, pert and vain, Presents her cup of stale Profession's froth; And pale Disease, with all his bloated train, Torments the sons of Gluttony and Sloth.

STROPHE.

In fortune's car behold that minion ride,
With either India's glittering spoils oppress'd:
So moves the sumpter-niule, in harness'd pride,
That bears the treasure which he cannot taste.
For him let venal bards disgrace the bay,

And hireling minstrels wake the tinkling string; Her sensual snares let faithless Pleasure lay;

And all her jingling bells fantastic Folly ring;

Disquiet, Doubt, and Dread shall intervene ;
And Nature, still to all her feelings just,
In vengeance hang a damp on every scene,
Shook from the baleful pinions of Disgust.

ANTISTROPHE.

Nature I'll court in her sequester'd haunts,

By mountain, meadow, streamlet, grove, or cell, Where the pois'd lark his evening ditty chaunts, And Health,and Peace, and Contemplation dwell. There, Study shall with Solitude recline;

And Friendship pledge me to his fellow-swains ; And Toil and Temperance sedately twine

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The slender cord that fluttering Life sustains; And fearless Poverty shall guard the door; And Taste unspoil'd, the frugal table spread; And Industry supply the humble store;

And Sleep unbrib'd his dews refreshing shed: White-mantled Innocence, ethereal sprite, Shall chase far off the goblins of the night; And Independence o'er the day preside, Propitious power! my patron and my pride.

Smollet.

SOLITUDE.

O SOLITUDE, romantic maid!

Whether by nodding towers you tread,
Or haunt the desert's trackless gloom,
Or hover o'er the yawning tomb,
Or climb the Andes' clifted side,
Or by the Nile's coy source abide,
Or, starting from your half-year's sleep
From Hecla view the thawing deep;

Or, at the purple dawn of day,
Tadmor's marble wastes survey;
You, recluse, again I woo,
And again your steps pursue.

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Plum'd Conceit, himself surveying ;
Folly, with her shadow playing ;
Purse proud, elbowing Insolence
Bloated empiric, puff'd Pretence;
Noise, that through a trumpet speaks;
Laughter, in loud peals that breaks;
Intrusion with a fopling's face,
(Ignorant of time and place)

Sparks of fire Dissention blowing,
Ductile, court-bred Flattery, bowing;
Restraint's stiff neck, Grimace's leer;
Squint-ey'd Censure's artful sneer;
Ambition's buskins, steep'd in blood,
Fly thy presence, Solitude!

Sage Reflection, bent with years;
Conscious Virtue, void of fears;
Muffled Silence, wood-nymph shy;
Meditation's piercing eye;

Halcyon Peace, on moss reclin'd;
Retrospect, that scans the mind;
Rapt earth-gazing Reverie,
Blushing artless Modesty,

Health that snuffs the morning air,
Full-ey'd Truth, with bosom bare,
Inspiration, Nature's child,
Seek the solitary wild.

You, with the tragic muse retir'd,
The wise Euripides inspir'd

You taught the sadly-pleasing air
That Athens sav'd from ruins bare.
You gave the Cean's tears to flow,
And unlock'd the springs of wo:
You penn'd what exil'd Naso thought,
And pour'd the melancholy note.
With Petrarch o'er Valcluse you stray'd,
When death snatch'd his long-lov'd maid;
You taught the rocks her loss to mourn,
You strew'd with flowers her virgin-urn,
And late in Hagley* you were seen,
With bloodshot eyes, and sombre mien;
Hymen his yellow vestment tore,
And Dirge a wreath of cypress wore.
But chief your own the solemn lay
That wept Narcissa young and gay;
Darkness clapp'd her sable wing,
While you touch'd the mournful string,
Anguish left the pathless wild,
Grim-fac'd Melancholy smil❜d,
Drowsy Midnight ceas'd to yawn,
The starry host put back the dawn,
Aside their harps ev'n seraphs flung,
To hear thy sweet complaint, O Young!

When all Nature's hush'd asleep,
Nor Love nor Guilt their vigil's keep;
Soft you leave your cavern'd den,
And wander o'er the works of men;
But when Phosphor brings the dawn,
By her dappled courses drawn,
Again you to the wild retreat,
And the early huntsman meet,

Monody on the death of Lady Lyttleton,

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