ODE on Lyric POETRY. By Mr. MARRIOT.

I. 1.

NMATE of fmoaking cots, whose ruftic shed,
Within its humble bed,

INM

Her twittering progeny contains,
The swallow sweeps the plains,

Or lightly skims from level lakes the dew.
The ringdove ever true

In plaintive accents tells of unrelenting fate,
Far from the raven's croak, and bird of night,
That fhrieking wings her flight

When, at his mutter'd rite,

Hid in the dufky defart vale,

With starting eye, and visage pale,

The grimly wizard fees the spectres rife unholy;
But haunts the woods that held her beauteous mate,
And wooes the Echo foft with murmurs melancholy.
I. 2.

Sublime alone the feather'd monarch flies,

His neft dark mifts upon the mountains fhrowd;
In vain the howling ftorms arife,

When borne on outstretch'd plume aloft he springs,
Dashing with many a ftroke the parting cloud,
Or to the buoyant air commits his wings.
Floating with even fail adown the liquid fkies;
Then darting upward, fwift his wings aspire,
Where thunders keep their gloomy feat,
And lightnings arm'd with heaven's avenging ire.

None can the dread artillery meet,
Or thro' the airy region rove,

But he who guards the throne of Jove,
And grafps the flaming bolt of facred fire.
I. 3.

Know, with young Ambition bold,
In vain, my Mufe, thy dazled eyes explore
Diftant aims, where wont to foar,
Their burning way the kindling fpirits hold.
Heights too arduous wifely, fhun;
Humbler flights thy wings attend ;
For heaven-taught Genius can alone afcend

Back to her native sky,

And with directed eagle eye

Pervade the lofty spheres, and view the blazing fun.
II. 1.

But hark! o'er all the flower-enamell'd ground
What mufic breathes around!

I fee, I see the virgin train
Unlock their streams again,

Rolling to many a vale their liquid lapse along,
While at the warbled song

Which holds entranc'd Attention's wakeful ear,
Broke are the magic bands of iron sleep.
Love, wayward child, oft wont to weep,
In tears his robe to steep

Forgets; and Care that counts his store,
Now thinks each mighty bufinefs o'er;

While

While fits on ruin'd cities, war's wide-wafting glory,
Ambition, ceafing the proud pile to rear,

And fighs; unfinish'd leaving half her ample story.

II. 2.

Then once more, fweet enthusiast, happy lyre,
Thy foothing folace deign awhile to bring.

I ftrive to catch the facred fire,

And wake thee emulous on Granta's plain, Where all the Muses haunt his hallow'd spring, And where the Graces fhun the fordid train Scornful of heaven-born arts which thee and peace inspire : On life's fequefter'd fcenes they filent wait,

Nor heed the bafelefs pomp of power,

Nor fhining dreams that crowd at Fortune's gate;
But fmooth th' inevitable hour

Of pain, which man is doom'd to know,

And teach the mortal mind to glow

With pleasures plac'd beyond the shaft of Fate.

II. 3.

But, alas! th' amusive reed

Ill fuits the lyre that afks a master's hand,
And fond fancies vainly feed

A breaft that life's more active fcenes demand.
Sloth ignoble to disclaim

'Tis enough: the lyre unftring.

At other feet the victor palm I fling

In Granta's glorious shrine;

Where crown'd. with radiance divine

Her fmiles fhall nurse the Mufe; the Mufe shall lift her fame.

ARION,

ARION, an ODE. By the Same.

Q

I.

UEEN of each facred found, sweet child of air,

Who fitting thron'd upon the vaulted sky,

Doft catch the notes which undulating fly,
Oft wafted up to thy exalted sphere,
On the foft bofom of each rolling cloud,
Charming thy lift'ning ear

With strains that bid the panting lover die ;
Or laughing mirth, or tender grief inspire,
Or with full chorus loud

Which lift our holy hope, or fan the hero's fire:
Enchanting Harmony, 'tis thine to cheer

The foul by woe which finks oppreft,

From forrow's eye to wipe the tear,

And on the bleeding wound to pour the balmy rest.
II.

'Twas when the winds were roaring loud,
And Ocean fwell'd his billows high,

By favage hands condemn'd to die,

Rais'd on the stem the trembling Lesbian stood;

All pale he heard the tempeft blow,

As on the watry grave below

He fix'd his weeping eye.

Ah! hateful luft of impious gold, What can thy mighty rage with-hold, Deaf to the melting powers of Harmony !

But

But ere the bard unpitied dies,
Again his foothing art he tries,

Again he sweeps the ftrings,

Slowly fad the notes arife,

While thus in plaintivé founds the fweet musician fings.
III.

From beneath the coral cave

Circled with the filver wave,

Where with wreaths of emerald crown'd
Ye lead the festive dance around,
Daughters of Venus, hear, and fave.
Ye Tritons, hear, whofe blast can fwell
With mighty founds the twisted shell;
And you, ye fifter Syrens, hear,
Ever beauteous, ever sweet,

Who lull the lift'ning pilot's ear
With magic fong, and foftly breath'd deceit.
By all the Gods who fubject roll

From gufhing urns their tribute to the main,
By him who bids the winds to roar,

By him whofe trident shakes the shore,
If e'er for you I raise the facred strain
When pious mariners your power adore,
Daughters of Nereus, hear and fave.