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By him fall mountains to a level space,
An ifthmus finks, and funder'd seas embrace!
He founds a city on the naked fhore,
And defolation ftarves the tract no more.
From the wild waves he won the Belgic land;
Where wide they foam'd, her towns and traffics stand;
He clear'd, manur'd, enlarg'd the furtive ground,
And firms the conqueft with his fenceful mound.
Ev'n nid the watery world his Venice rose,
Each fabric there, as Pleafure's feat he fhows!
There marts, sports, councils, are for a&tion fought,
Landscapes for health, and folitude for thought.
What wonder then I, by his potent aid,
A manlion in a barren mountain made?
Part thou hast view'd !-If further we explore,
Let Industry deferve applaufe the more.
No frowning care yon bleft apartment fees,
There Sleep retires, and finds a couch of eafe.
Kind dreams, that fly remorfe, and pamper'd wealth, 305
There shed the fmiles of innocence and health.
Mark! Here defcends a grot, delightful feat!
Which warms e'en winter, tempers summer heat!
See!-Gurgling from a top, a fpring distils !
In mournful meafures wind the dripping rills;
Soft coos of diftant doves, receiv'd around,
In foothing mixture, fwell the watery found;
And hence the ftreamlets feek the terrace' fhade,
Within, without, alike to all convey'd.
Pafs on-New fcenes, by my creative power,
Invite Reflection's fweet and folemn hour.
We enter'd, where, in well-rang'd order, flood Th' inftructive volumes of the wife and good. Thefe friends (faid he) though I defert mankind, Good angels never would permit behind. Each genius, youth conceals, or time difplays, I know; each work fome feraph here conveys, Retirement thus prefents my fearchful thought, What heaven infpir'd, and what the Mufe has taught; What Young fatiric and fublime has writ,
Whofe life is virtue, and whofe Mufe is wit.
Rapt I foresee thy Mallet's early aim
Shine in full worth, and shoot at length to fame.
Sweet fancy's bloom in Fenton's lay appears,
"And the ripe judgment of inftructive years. In Hill is all that generous fouls revere,
To Virtue and the Mufe for ever dear :
And Thomson, in this praife, thy merit fee,
The tongue, that praises merit, praises thee.
Thefe fcorn (faid I) the verfe-wright of their age, 335
Vain of a labour'd, languid, ufelefs page;
To whofe dim faculty the meaning fong
Is glaring, or obfcure, when clear, and strong;
Who, in cant phrafes, gives a work difgrace;
His wit, and oddnefs of his tone and face;
Let the weak malice, nurs'd to an effay,
In fome low libel a mean heart display;
Thofe, who once prais'd, now undeceiv'd, despise,
It lives contemn'd a day, then harmless dies.
*He had then juft written THE EXCURSION.
Or fhould fome nobler bard, their worth, unpraise, 345 Deferting morals, that adorn his lays,
Alas! too oft each fcience fhews the fame,
The great grow jealous of a greater name :
Ye bards, the frailty mourn, yet brave the shock ;
Has not a Stillingfleet oppos'd a Locke?
Oh, ftill proceed, with facred rapture fir'd!
Unenvy'd had he liv'd, if unadmir'd.
Let Envy, he replied, all ineful rife,
Envy pursues alone the brave and wife;
Maro and Socrates infpire her pain,
And Pope, the monarch of the tuneful train!
To whom be Nature's, and Britannia's praise!
All their bright honours rufh into his lays!
And all that glorious warmth his lays reveal,
Which only poets, kings, and patriots feel!
Though gay as mith, as curious thought fedate,
As elegance polite, as power elate;
Profound as reafon, and as juftice clear;
Soft as compaffion, yet as truth fevere;
As bounty copious, as perfuafion fweet,
Like nature various, and like art complete ;
So fine her morals, fo fublime her views,
His life is almoft equal'd by his Mufe.
O Pope-S nce Envy is decreed by fate,
Since he purfues alone the wife and great;
In one fmall, emblematic landscape see,
How va a distance 'twixt thy foe and thee!
Truth from an eminer ce furveys our fcene
(A hill, where all is clear, and all ferene).
Rude earth-bred ftorms o'er meaner valleys blow, 375
And wandering mists roll, blackening, far below;
Dark, and debas'd, like them, is Envy's aim,
And clear, and eminent, like Truth, thy fame.
Thus I. From what dire caufe can envy fpring?
Or why embofom we a viper's fting?
'Tis Envy ftings our darling paffion, pride. Alas! (the man of mighty foul replied)
Why chufe we miferies? Moft derive their birth
From one bad fource-we dread fuperior worth;
Prefer'd, it feems a fatire on our own;
Then heedlefs to excel we meanly moan:
Then we abftract our views, and Envy fhow,
Whence fprings the mifery, pride is doom'd to know.
Thus folly pain creates : By wifdom's power,
We fhun the weight of many a reftless hour-
Lo! I meet wrong; perhaps the wrong I feel
Tends, by the fcheme of things, to public weal.
I, of the whole, am part-the joy men fee,
Muft circulate, and fo revolve to me.
Why should I then of private lofs complain ?
Of loss, that proves, perchance, a brother's gain ?
The wind, that binds one bark within the bay,
May waft a richer freight its wir'd-for way.
If rains redundant flood the abject ground,
Mountains are but fupplied, when vales are drown'd; 400
If, with soft moisture fwell'd, the vale looks gay,
The verdure of the mountain fades away.
Shall clouds but at my welfare's call defcend?
Shall gravity for me her laws fufpend?
For me fhall funs their noon-tide course forbear? 405
Or motion not fubfift to influence air?
Let the means vary, be they frost, or flame,
Thy end, O Nature! ftill remains the fame!
Be this the motive of a wife man's care,-
To fhun deferving ills, and learn to bear.
HILE thus a mind humane, and wife, he shows,
All eloquent of truth his language flows.
Youth, though deprefs'd, through all his form appears;
Through all his fentiments the depth of years.
Thus he-Yet farther Industry behold,
Which confcious waits new wonders to unfold.
Enter my chapel next-Lo! here begin
The hallow'd rites, that check the growth of fin.
When first we met, how foon you feem'd to know
My bofom, labouring with the throbs of woe!
Such racking throbs!-Soft! when I rouse those cares,
On my chill'd mind pale Recollection glares!
When moping Frenzy ftrove my thoughts to sway,
Here prudent labours chac'd her power away.
Full, and rough-rifing from yon fculptur'd wall, 15
Bold prophets nations to repentance call!į
Meek martyrs smile in flames! gor'd champions groan !
And mufe-like cherubs tune their harps in ftone!