Lives the man who pines for more.
Wretched he who doom'd to roam,
Never can be bleft at home;

Nor retire within his mind,
From th' ungrateful and unkind.
Happy they whom crowds befriend,
Curs'd who on the crowd depend;

On the great one's peevish fit,
On the coxcomb's spurious wit;
Ever fentenc'd to bemoan

Others failings in their own.

If, like them, rejecting ease,
Hills and health no longer please;
Quick defcend!Thou may'st resort
To the viceroy's fplendid court.
There, indignant, fhalt thou fee
Cringing flaves, who might be free,
Brib'd with titles, hope, or gain,
Tye their country's fhameful chain;
Or, infpir'd by heav'n's good caufe,
Waste the land with holy laws :
While the gleanings of their power,
Lawyers, lordlings, priests devour.
VOL. II.

Now,

Now, methinks, I hear thee say, "Drink alone thy mountain-whey! "Wherefore tempt the Irish shoals?

R

I.

EMOTE from liberty and truth,

By fortune's crime, my early youth
Drank crror's poifon'd springs.

Taught by dark creeds and mystick law,

Wrapt up

in reverential awe,

I bow'd to priests and kings.

II.

Soon reafon dawn'd, with troubled fight
I caught the glimpse of painful light,
Afflicted and afraid.

Too weak it shone to mark my way,
Enough to tempt my fteps to ftray

Along the dubious fhade.

III. Reft

III.

Reftless I roam'd, when from afar
Lo HOOKER fhines! the friendly star
Sends forth a steady ray.

Thus cheer'd, and eager to pursue,
I mount, till glorious to my view,

LOCKE fpreads the realms of day.
IV.

Now warm'd with noble SIDNEY's page,
I pant with all the patriot's rage;
Now wrapt in PLATO's dream,

With MORE and HARRINGTON around
I tread fair Freedom's magick ground,
And trace the flatt'ring scheme.

VII.

What tho' the good, the brave, the wife,
With adverfe force undaunted rife,

To break th' eternal doom!

Tho' CATO liv'd, tho' TULLY fpoke,
Tho' BRUTUS dealt the godlike stroke,
Yet perish'd fated ROME.

VIII.

To fwell fome future tyrant's pride,
Good FLEURY pours the golden tide
On Gallia's fmiling shores;

Once more her fields fhall thirft in vain
For wholfome ftreams of honeft gain,
While rapine waftes her stores.

IX.

Yet glorious is the great defign,

And fuch, O PULTNEY! fuch is thine,

To prop a nation's frame.

If crush'd beneath the facred weight,

The ruins of a falling state

Shall tell the patriot's name.

An

An ODE to the Right Honourable the Lord LONSDALE.

L

By the Same.

I.

ONSDALE! thou ever-honour'd name,

For fuch is facred virtue's claim,

Say why, my noble friend!

While nature sheds her balmy powers

O'er hill and dale, in leaves and flowers,

Say, why my joys fufpend!

II.

Here spreads the lawn high-crown'd with wood,

Here flopes the vale, there winds the flood

In many a crystal maze.

The fishes fport, in filver pride

Slow moves the fwan, on either fide

The herds promifcuous graze.

III.

Or if the ftiller shade you love,

Here folemn nods th' imbow'ring grove

O'er innocence and ease ;

Whether with deep reflection fraught,
Or in the sprightly ftream of thought,

The lighter trifles please.