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That sure the Sibyls books this year foretold,
And in some mystic Leaf was seen inrolld,

• Rome, turn thy mournful eyes from Afric's fore,
Nor in her fands thy Cato's tomb explore!
When thrice fix hundred times, the circling Sun
His annual race foall thro' the Zodiac run,
An Ife remote bis monument fball rear,
And ev'ry gen'rous Briton pay a tear.



HAT do we fee! is Cato then become.

A greater name in Britain than in Rome ?
Does mankind now admire his virtues more,
Tho' Lucan, Horace, Virgil wrote before ?
How will Pofterity this truth explain ?
“ Cato begins to live in Anna's reign :
The World's great chiefs, in council or in arms,
Rise in your lines with more exalted charms ;
Illuftrious deeds in diftant nations wrought,
And virtues by departed Heroes taught,
Raife in your soul a pure immortal flame,
Adorn your life, and consecrate your fame ;
To your renown all ages you subdue,
And Cæfar fought, and Cato bled for you.
All Souls College,


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I S nobly done thus to enrich the flage,

And raise the thoughts of a degenerate age,
To show, how endless joys from freedom spring :
How life in bondage is a wortbless thing.
The inborn greatness of your soul we view,
You tread the paths frequented by the few.
With so much frength you write, and so much ease,
-Virtue, and sense! bow durft you hope to please?
Tet crowds the sentiments of every line
Impartial clap'd, and own'd the work divino.
Even the four Critics, who malicious came,
Eager to cenfure, and resolv'd to blame,
Finding the Hero regularly rise,
Great, while he lives, but greater when he dies,
Sullen approv'd, too obflinate to melt,
And fickend with the pleasures, wbich they felt,
Not so the Fair their passions secret kept,
Silent they heard, but as they heard, they wept,
When gloriously the blooming Marcus dy'd,
And Cato told the Gods, I'm fatisfy'd,

See! how your lays the British youth inflama!
They long to shoot, and ripen into fame;
Applauding theatres difturb their refi,
And unborn Cato's heave in every breast;

Their nightly dreams their daily thoughts repeat,
And pulses high with fancy'd glories beat.
So, griev'd to view the Marashonian spoils,
Tbe young Themistocles vow'd equal toils;
Did then bis schemes of future bonours draw
From the long triumphs which with tears he faw.

How shall I your unrivald worth proclaim,
Loft in the spreading circle of your fame!
We saw you the great William's praise rehearse,
And paint Britannia's joys in Roman verse.
We heard at distance soft, inchanting Arains,
From blooming mountains, and Italian Plain.
Virgil began in English dress to shine,
His voice, his looks, his grandeur fill divine.
From him too foon unfriendly you withdrow,
Bus brought the tuneful Ovid to our view.
Then, the delightful theme of every tongue,
Th’immortal Marl'brough was your daring Jong :
From clime to clime the mighty vi&tor flew,
From clime to clime as swiftly you pursue ;
Still with the Hero's glow'd the Poet's flame,
Still with his conquests you enlarg'd your fame.
With bouudless raptures here the Muse could swell,
And on your Rofamond for ever dwell:
There opening fweets, and every fragrant flower
Luxuriant smil, a never-fading bower.



Next, human follies kindly to expose,
You change from numbers, but not link in proje:
Whether in visionary scenes you play,
Refine our tastes, or laugh our crimes away.
Now, by the buskin'd Muse you shine confeft,
The Patriot kindles in the Poet's breast.
Such energy of sense might pleasure raise,
Tho' unembellish'd with the charms of phrase :
Such charms of phrase would with success be crown'd,
Tho' nonsense flow'd in the melodious found,
The chastest Virgin needs no blushes fear,
The Learn'd themselves, not uninftrueted, hear.
The Libertine, in pleasures us’d to roll,
And idly Sport with an immortal soul,
Here comes, and by the virtuous Heathen taught,
Turns pale, and trembles at the dreadful thought.

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When e'er you traverse vafl Numidia's plains,
What fiuggih Briton in his ifle remains ?
When Juba seeks the Tiger with delight,
We beat the thicket, and provoke the fight.
By the description warmd, we fondly sweat,
And in the chilling Eaft-wind pant with heat.

behold not, how the stream refines,
'Till by degrees the floating mirrour shines ?
While hurricanes in circling,
Tear up the fands, and sweep whole plains away.


We forink with horror, and confess our fear,
And all the sudden founding ruine bear,
When purple robes, diftain'd with blood, deceive,
And make poor Marcia beautifully grieve,
When she her secret thoughts no more conceals,
Forgets the woman, and her flame reveals,

the Prince exult with noble pride, Not for bis Libyan crown, but Roman bride.

But I in vain on fingle features dwell,
While all the parts of the fair piece excell.
So rich the store, fo dubious is the feaft,
We know not, which to pass, or which to taste.
The shining incidents ro juftly fall,
We may the whole new scenes of transport call.
Thus jewellers confound our wandring eyes,
And with variety of gems surprise.
Here Saphires, here the Sardian Stone is seen,
The Topaz yellow, and the Jasper green.
The cofily Brilliant there, confus’dly bright,
From numerous surfaces darts trembling light.
The different colours mingling in a blaze,
Silent we ftand, unable where to praise,
In pleasure sweetly loft ten thousand ways.


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