"Go then, brave youth, where'er the Fates may call; "Live with defign, and fearlefs wait thy fall.

"Whatever space of life the gods decree,

Thy name is ftill immortal; for I fee "More than another Peleus rife in thee.

W

By the late Dr. ARBUTHNOT.

HAT am I? how produc'd? and for what end?
Whence drew I being? to what period tend?

Am I th' abandon'd orphan of blind chance,

Dropt by wild atoms in diforder'd dance?
Or from an endless chain of causes wrought,
And of unthinking substance, born with thought ?
By motion which began without a caufe,
Supremely wife, without defign or laws?

Am I but what I feem, mere flesh and blood;

A branching channel, with a mazy flood?

a Homer.

By Alexander, who had Homer's Iliad always with him, propofing Achilles for his example.

I

The

The purple stream that through my veffels glides,
Dull and unconfcious flows, like common tides:
The pipes through which the circling juices ftray,
Are not that thinking I, no more than they :
This frame compacted with transcendent skill,
Of moving joints obedient to my will,

Nurs'd from the fruitful glebe, like yonder tree,
Waxes and waftes; I call it mine, not me.
New matter ftill the mould'ring mass sustains,
The manfion chang'd, the tenant ftill remains ;
And from the fleeting ftream, repair'd by food,
Diftinct, as is the fwimmer from the flood.
What am I then? fure, of a nobler birth.
By parents right, I own as mother, earth;
But claim fuperior lineage by my SIRE,

Who warm'd th' unthinking clod with heavenly fire:
Effence divine, with lifelefs clay allay'd,
By double nature, double inftinct sway'd;
With look erect, I dart my longing eye,
Seem wing'd to part, and gain my native sky;
I ftrive to mount, but strive, alas! in vain,
Ty'd to this maffy globe with magick chain.
Now with swift thought I range from pole to pole,
View worlds around their flaming centers roll:
What steady powers their endless motions guide,
Thro' the fame trackless paths of boundless void!
I trace the blazing comet's fiery trail,

And weigh the whirling planets in a scale':

These godlike thoughts, while eager I pursue
Some glittering trifle offer'd to my view,
A gnat, an infect, of the meaneft kind,
Erafe the new-born image from my mind;
Some beafly want, craving, importunate,
Vile as the grinning mastiff at my gate,
Calls off from heav'nly truth this reas'ning me,
And tells me, I'm a brute as much as he.
If on fublimer wings of love and praise,
My foul above the starry vault I raise,
Lur'd by fome vain conceit, or shameful luft,
I flag, I drop, and flutter in the dutt.
The tow'ring lark thus from her lofty strain,
Stoops to an emmet, or a barley grain.
By adverfe gufts of jarring inftinas toft,
I rove to one, now to the other coalt;
To blifs unknown my lofty foul afpires,
My lot unequal to my valt de fires,

As 'mongst the hinds a child of royal birth
Finds his high pedigree by conscious worth;
So man, amongst his fellow brutes expos'd,
See's he's a king, but 'tis a king depos'd.
Pity him, beafts! you by no law confin'd,
Are barr'd from devious paths by being blind;
Whilft man, through op'ning views of various ways
Confounded, by the aid of knowledge strays;
Too weak to choofe, yet choofing ftill in hafte,
One moment gives the pleasure and distaste ;

Bilk'd

Bilk'd by paft minutes, while the prefent cloy,
The flatt'ring future ftill must give the joy :
Not happy, but amus'd upon the road,
And (like you) thoughtless of his last abode,
Whether next fun his being fhall restrain
To endless nothing, happiness or pain.

Around me, lo, the thinking thoughtless crew,
(Bewilder'd each) their diff'rent paths pursue ;
Of them I ask the way; the first replies,
Thou art a god; and fends me to the skies:
Down on the turf the next, thou two-legg'd beast,
There fix thy lot, thy blifs, and endless rest;
Between thefe wide extremes the length is fuch,
I find I know too little or too much.

Almighty Power, by whofe moft wife command,
Helpless, forlorn, uncertain here I ftand;
Take this faint glimmering of thyself away,
"Or break into my foul with perfect day !"
This faid, expanded lay the facred text,

The balm, the light, the guide of fouls perplex'd.
Thus the benighted traveller that ftrays
Through doubtful paths, enjoys the morning rays;
The nightly mift, and thick defcending dew,
Parting, unfold the fields, and vaulted blue.
"O Truth divine! enlighten'd by thy ray,
" I grope and guefs no more, but fee my way;
"Thou clear'dft the fecret of my high defcent,
"And told me what those myftick tokens meant ;

"Marks of my birth, which I had worn in vain,
"Too hard for worldly fages to explain.

"Zeno's were vain, vain Epicurus' schemes,
"Their fyftems falfe, delufive were their dreams :
"Unskill'd my two-fold nature to divide,

"One nurs'd my pleasure, and one nurs'd my pride:
"Thofe jarring truths which human art beguile,
Thy facred page thus bids me reconcile."
Offspring of God, no lefs thy pedigree,
What thou once wer't, art now, and ftill may be,
Thy God alone can tell, alone decree;
Faultlefs thou drop'dit from his unerring skill,
With the bare power to fin, fince free of will:
Yet charge not with thy guilt his bounteous love,
For who has power to walk, has power to rove:
Who acts by force impell'd, can nought deferve;
And wisdom fhort of infinite may fwerve.

Borne on thy new-imp'd wings, thou took'ft thy flight,
Left thy Creator, and the realms of light;
Difdain'd his gentle precept to fulfil;

And thought to grow a god by doing ill:
Though by foul guilt thy heav'nly form defac'd,
In nature chang'd, from happy manfions chas'd,
Thou ftill retain't fome fparks of heavenly fire,
Too faint to mount, yet restlefs to afpire;
Angel enough to feek thy blifs again,
And brute enough to make thy fearch in vain.

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