Their nightly dreams their daily thoughts repeat,
And pulfes high with fancy'd glories beat.
So, griev'd to view the Marathonian spoils,
Themistocles vow'd equal toils;
Did then his fchemes of future honours draw
From the long triumphs which with tears he faw.
How fall I your unrival'd worth proclaim,
Left in the spreading circle of your fame!
We faw you the great William's praise rehearse,
And paint Britannia's joys in Roman verfe.
We heard at diftance foft, enchanting frains,
From blooming mountains, and Italian Plains.
Virgil began in English dress to fbine,
His voice, his looks, his grandeur fill divine.
From him too foon unfriendly you withdrew,
But brought the tuneful Ovid to our view.
Then, the delightful theme of every tongue,
Th' immortal Marl'brough was your daring fong;
From clime to clime the mighty victor flew,
From clime to clime as fwiftly you pursue;
Still with the Heroe's glow'd the Poet's flame,
Still with his conquefts you enlarg'd your fame.
With boundless raptures here the Mufe could fwell,
And on your Rofamond for ever dwell:
There opening fweets, and every fragrant flower
Luxuriant fmile, a never-fading bower.
Next, human follies kindly to expose,
You change from numbers, but not fink in profe:
Whether in vifionary fcenes you play,
Refine our tafies, 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 fenfe might pleasure raise,
Tho' unembellish'd with the charms of phrase:
Such charms of phrafe would with fuccefs be crown'd,
Tho' nonfenfe flow'd in the melodious found.
The chafteft Virgin needs no blushes fear,
The Learn'd themselves, not uninfructed, hear.
The Libertine, in pleasures us'd to roul,
And idly fport with an immortal foul,
Here comes, and by the virtuous Heathen taught,
Turns pale, and trembles at the dreadful thought.
When e'er you traverse vaft Numidia's plains, What fluggish Briton in his Ile remains? When Juba Jeeks the Tiger with delight, We beat the thicket, and provoke the fight. By the defcription warm'd, we fondly feat, And in the chilling Eaft-wind pant with heat. What bebold eyes how the ftream refines, "Till by degrees the floating mirrour shines ?
While hurricanes in circling eddies play,
Tear up the fands, and fweep whole plains away,
We fhrink with horror, and confefs our fear,
And all the fudden founding ruine hear.
When purple robes, diftain'd with blood, deceive,
And make poor Marcia beautifully grieve,
When she her fecret thoughts no more conceals,
Forgets the woman, and ber flame reveals,
Well may
the Prince exult with noble pride,
Not for his 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 flore, jo dubious is the feast,
We know not, which to pass, or which to take.
The fbining incidents fo jufly fall,
We may the whole new feenes of tranfport call.
Thus jewellers confound our wand'ring eyes,
And with variety of gems furprise.
Here Saphires, here the Sardian Stone is feen,
The Topaz yellow, and the Jasper green.
The coftly Brilliant there, confus'dly bright,
From numerous furfaces darts trembling light.
The different colours mingling in a blaze,
Silent we ftand, unable where to praise,
In pleasure fweetly loft ten thousand ways.
Trinity College,
Cambridge.
00 long hath Love engrofs'd Britannia's flage, And funk to foftness all our tragic rage;
By that alone did empires fall or rife,
And fate depended on a fair one's eyes ;
The fweet infection, mixt with dangerous art,
Debas'd our manhood, while it footh'd the heart.
You fcorn to raise a grief thyself muft blame,
Nor from our weakness feal a vulgar fame:
A Patriot's fall may justly melt the mind,
And tears flow nobly, shed for all mankind.
How do our fouls with gen'rous pleasure glow!
Our hearts exulting, while our eyes o'erflow,
When thy firm Hero ftands beneath the weight
Of all bis fufferings venerably great;
Rome's poor remains fill shelt'ring by his fide,
With confcious virtue, and becoming pride.
The aged Oak thus rears his head in air, His fap exhaufed, and his branches bare; 'Midft forms and earthquakes he maintains his ftate, Fixt deep in earth, and faften'd by his weight. His naked boughs ftill lend the shepherds aid, And his old trunk projects an awful shade.
Amidst the joys triumphant peace beftows,
Our Patriots fadden at his glorious woes,
Awhile they let the world's great business wait,
Anxious for Rome, and figh for Cato's fate.
Here taught how ancient Heroes rose to fame,
Our Britons crowd, and catch the Roman flame.
Where ftates and fenates well might lend an ear,
And Kings and Priefis without a blush appear.
France boafts no more, but, fearful to engage,
Now firft pays homage to her rival's flage,
Haftes to learn thee, and learning fhall fubmit
Alike to British arms, and British wit :
No more fhe'll wonder, forc'd to do us right)
Who think like Romans, cou'd like Romans fight.
Thy Oxford fmiles this glorious work to fee,
And fondly triumphs in a fon like thee.
The fenates, confuls, and the gods of Rome,
Like old acquaintance at their native home,
In thee we find each deed, each word expreft,
And every thought that fwell'd a Roman breast.
We trace each bint that could thy foul infpire
With Virgil's judgment, and with Lucan's fire;
We know thy worth, and, give us leave to boast,
We most admire, because we know thee most.
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