At Heaven's all-powerful edict is prepar'd,
And fenc'd around with an immortal guard.
Tribes, provinces, dominions, worlds, o'erflow
The might plain, and deluge all below :
And ev'ry age and nation pours along;
Nimrod and Bourbon mingle in the throng;
Adam falutes his youngest fon; no fign
Of all those ages which their births disjoin.
How empty learning, and how vain is art,
But as it mends the life, and guides the heart!
What volumes have been swell'd, what time been
To fix a hero's birthday, or defcent? [spent,
What joy must it now yield, what rapture raise,
To fee the glorious race of ancient days?
To greet those worthies who perhaps have ftood
Ilustrious on record before the flood?
Alas! a nearer care your foul demands :
Cæfar unnoted in your prefence stands.
How vast the concourse! not in number more
The waves that break on the refounding shore,
The leaves that tremble in the shady grove,
The lamps that gild the spangled vaults above;
Those overwhelming armies, whose command
Said to one empire, fall; another, stand;
Whofe rear lay wrapt in night, while breaking
Rous'd the broad front, and call'dthe battle on;
GreatXerxes'worldin arms, proud Cannæ's field,
Where Carthagetaught victorious Rome to yield,
(Another blow had broke the Fates decree,
And earth had wanted her fourth monarchy.)
Immortal Blenheim, fam'd Ramillia's hoft,
They all are here, and here they all are loft:
Their millions fwell to be difcern'd in vain,
Loft as a billow in th' unbounded main.
I fee, on an empyreal flying throne
Sublimely rais'd, Heaven's everlasting Son
Crown'dwiththat majesty whichform'dthew
And the grand rebel flaming downward ht
Virtue, dominion, praise, omnipotence,
Support the train of their triumphant Prin
A zone, beyond the thought of angels bri
Around him, like the zodiac, winds its lig
Night shades the folemn arches of his brow
And in his cheek the purple morning glov
Where'er ferene he turns propitious eyes,
Or we expect, or find, a paradife :
But if resentment reddens their mild beam
The Eden kindles, and the world's in flar
On one hand, knowledge thines in pureft fig
On one, the sword of justice, fiercely brigh
Now bend the knee in sport, present the re
Now tell the scourg'd Impoftor he shall ble
Thus glorious, thro' the courts of heaver
Of life and death eternal bends hiscourse; [fo
Loudthunders roundhimroll, andlightnings
Th' angelic hoft is rang'd in bright array;
Some touch the string, some strike the foun
And mingling voices in rich concert swell; [1
Voices ces feraphic! biest with fuch a strain,
Could Satan hear, he were a god again.
Triumphant King of Glory! Soul of bli
What a ftupendous turn of fate is this!
O! whither art thou rais'd above the fcorn
And indigence of him in Bethlem born;
A needless, helpless, unaccounted gueft,
And but a fecond to the fodder'd beaft!
Howchang'dfrom him, who meeklyproftrate
Vouchfaf'd to wash the feet himself had mo
From him who was betray'd, forfook, den
Wept, languish'd, pray'd, bled, thirsted, gro
and died;
Hung, pierc'd and bare, infulted by the for
And was 't enough to bid the Sun retire
Why did not Nature at thy groan expire?
I fee, I hear, I feel, the pangs divine;
The world is vanish'd-I am wholly thine.
This echoing voice now rends the yielding air: "Forjudgment, judgment, fonsof men, prepare!," Earth thakes anew; I hear her groans profound, And hell thro' all her trembling realms refound. Allheavenintearsabove, earthunconcern'dbe
Whoe'erthou art, thou greatest pow'r of earth.
Bleft with most equal planets at thy birth,
Whose valour drew the most fuccefsful fword,
Moft realms united in one common lord;
Who on the day of triumph, faid'st, Be thine
The skies, Jehovah, all this world is mine;
Dare not to lift thine eye-Alas, my muse!
Howart thouloft! what numberscanftthouchoose?
A fudden blush inflames the waving sky,
And now the crimfon curtains open fly;
Lo! far within, and far above all height,
Where heaven's great Sov'reign reigns in worlds
of light,
Miftaken Caiaphas! ah! which blafphem Thou or thypris'ner? which shallbe condemn Well might'it thou rend thy garments, well Deep are the horrors of eternal flame! [clai But God is good! 'tis wondrous all! ev'n Thou gav'st todeath, thame, torture, diedfor t
Now the defcending triumph stops its flig
From earth full twice a planetary height.
There all the clouds condens'd two columns
Distinct with orient veins and golden blaze:
One fix'd on earth, and one in fea; and rou
found.
Whence nature He informs, and with one ray
Shot from his eye, does all her works survey,
Creates,fupports,confounds!wheretimeandplace, Its ample foot the swelling billows
Matter, and form, and fortune, life, and grace,
Wait humbly at the footstool of their God,
And move obedient at his awful nod;
Whence he beholds us vagrant emmets crawl
At random on this air-fufpended ball
(Speck of creation!): if he pour one breath,
The bubble breaks, and 'tis eternal death.
These an immeasurable arch fupport.
The grand tribunal of this awful court,
Sheets of bright azure form the pureft iky,
Stream from the crystal arch, and round the
Death, wrapt in chains, low at the basis lies,
And on the piont of his own arrow dies.
Thence iffuing I behold (but mortal fight Sustains not fuch a rushing fea of light!
Here high enthron'dth'eternal Judge is pla With all the grandeur of his Godhead grac
Stay was robes in beauteous order meet,
Aatrizia barns beneath his awful feet.
Nwaarchangel e ninently bright,
Phis filver staf of wondrous height,
Des the Christian fag, which waving flies,
AndArts and opens more than half the skies:
Pecus fo fhong a red, it sheds a stain
Where it floats, on earth, and air, and main;
Ficheste bill, and fets on fire the wood,
Salmans the deep-dyed ocean into blood.
Fitble Glory! dreadful bright!
Retorture to the guilty fight!
Asowary muie, nor dare reveal
World thoughts with the polluted dwell.
net (to make the Sun shrink in his beam)
De not affirm, they with it all a dream;
Wor their fouls may with their limbs decay,
od be poil'd of his eternal sway.
Berber, if thou know'it the means, unfold
Ery with transport might the scene behold.
Abar but by Repentance-by a mind
and fevere its own offence to find?
Bars and groans, and never-ceasing care,
the plous violence of pray'r?
en, wita fervency till now unknown,
Thy pleasure points theshaft and bends the bow,
The cluster blasts or bids it brightly glow:
'Tis thou that lead'st our pow'rful armies forth,
And giv'it great Annethy fceptre o'erthe north.
I heart before th' eternal throne,
-reat temple, which the skies furround,
Fate its Lord a narrow bound: [weigh,
whose balance does the mountains
"Grant I may ever, at the morning ray,
Open with pray'r the confecrated day;
Tune thy great praise, and bid my foul arife,
And with the mounting fun afcend the skies!
As that advances, let my zeal improve,
And glow with ardour of confummate love;
Nor cease at eve, but with the fetting fun
My endless worship thall be still begun.
We breath can turn those wat'ry worlds to
Te to tempeft, and that tempeft tame;
anet fon, all trembling, prostrate falls,
bounties of thy goodness calls.
palt offence to sweep,
"And, oh, permit the gloom of foleinn night
To facred thought may forcibly invite.
When this world's thut, and awful planets rife,
Call on our minds, and raise them to the skies.
Compose our fouls with a less dazzling fight,
And shew all nature in a milder light;
How ev'ry boift'rous thought in calms subsides;
How the fmooth'd fpirit into goodness glides!
O how divine, to tread the milky way
To the bright palace of the Lord of day!
His court admire, or for his favour sue,
Or leagues of friendship with his faints renew!
Pleas'd to look down, and fee the world afleep,
While I long vigils to its Founder keep! [troul,
"Canst thou not shake the centre? Oh con
Subdue by force. the rebel in my foul!
Thou, who canst still the raging of the flood,
wil the wild tumultuous seas obey, Restrain the various tumults of my blood;
Teach me, with equal firmness, to fustain
Alluring pleasure, and affaulting pain.
O may I pant for Thee in each defire,
And with strong faith foment the holy fire!
Stretch out my foul in hope, and grasp the prize
Which in Eternity's deep bosom lies!
At the great day day of recompence behold,
Devoid of fear, the fatal book unfold !
Then, wafted upwards to to the blissful feat,
From age to age my grateful fong repeat;
My Light, my Life, my God, my Saviour fee,
And rival angels in the praise of Thee!"
Tor bury in the deep : 1. partyweknefs, may I ever fee, wate my foul to thee!
nor human motive know!
my paffions ebb ard flow
tanger be my praise,
Asa astlegaceful indignation raife.
be warm to faccour the distress'd, the innlen from the foul oppress'd. by undertanding ever read
Fables for the Female Sex. Moore. §310. FARLE I. The Eagle and the Affembly of Birds.
osvelame, whic which thy wisdom made!
ks themaiden Spring with flow rypride?
Was forta Summerlike a sparkling bride?
the mother Autumn's bed to crown? I write, Fair Excellence, to you;
sold Winter lay her honours down?
e great Ottoman, or greater Czar,
Europe's arbitreis of peace and war.
Martand land, and earth and heav'n be join'd,
Th'eternal Author to my mind!
To her Royal Highness the Princess of Wales.
THE moral lay, to beauty due,
cans roar, or awful thunders roll, Weights of thy dread vengeance thake my foul l
Wineata's in bloom, or planets proudlyshine,
All my heart, the Majesty divine!
ev'ry scene of life, or peace, or war,
haty, or want, thy glory be my care!
Base we in arms or fing beneath our vine?
Tane is the vintage, and the conquest thine:
Well pleas'd to hope my vacant hours
Have been employ'd to sweeten yours.
Truth under fiction I impart,
To weed out folly from the heart,
And thew the paths that lead aftray
The wand'ring nymph from wisdom's way,
I flatter none. The great and good
Are by their actions understood;
Your monument, if actions raise,
Shall I deface by idle praife?
I echo not the voice of Fame ;
That dwelis delighted on your name:
Her friendly tale, however true,
Were flatt'ry, if I told it you.
The proud, the envious, and the vain,
The jilt, the prude, demand my ftrain;
To these, detesting praise, I write,
And vent in charity my spite:
With friendly hand I hold the glass
To all, promifcuous, as they pafs:
Should folly there her likeness view,
I fret not that the mirror's true :
If the fantastic form offend,
I made it not, but would amend.
Virtue, in ev'ry clime and age,
Spurns at the folly-foothing page;
While fatire, that offends the ear,
Of vice and passion, pleases her.
Premifing this, your anger spare;
And claim the fable you who dare.
'The birds in place, by fictions press'd,
To Jupiter their pray'rs address'd:
By fpecious lyes the state was vex'd,
Their counsels libellers perplex'd;
They begg'd (to stop feditious tongues)
A gracious hearing of their wrongs.
Jove grants the fuit. The Eagle fate
Decider of the grand debate.
The Pye, to trust and pow'r preferr'd,
Demands permiffion to be heard.
Says he, prolixity of phrafe
You know I hate. This libel fays,
"Some birds there are, who, prone to nolse,
Are hir'd to filence wifdom's voice;
And skill'd, to chatter out the hour,
Rife by their emptiness to pow'r."
That this is aim'd direct at me,
No doubt you'll readily agree;
Yet well this sage afsembly knows,
By parts to government I rose.
My prudent counsels prop the state;
Magpies were never known to prate.
The Kite rofe up. His honest heart
In virtue's sufferings bore a part.
That there were birds of prey he knew:
So far the libeller faid true:
"Voracious, bold, to rapine prone,
Who knew no int'rest but their own;
Who hov'ring oe'r the farmer's yard,
Nor pigeon, chick, or duckling spar'd."
This might be true; but, if applied
To him, in troth, the flanderer lyed.
Since ign'rance then might be mifled,
Such things, he thought, were best unfaid.
The Crow was vex'd. As yefter-morn
He flew across the now-fown corn,
A fcreaming boy was fet for pay,
He knew, to drive the crows away;
Scandal had found him out in turn,
And buzz'd abroad that crows love corn.
The Owl arose with folemn face,
And thus harangu'd upon the cafe.
That magpies prate, it may be true;
A kite may be voracious too;
Crows fometimes deal in new-fown pease;
He libeis not, who strikes at thele:
The flander's here-" But there are birds,
Whole wifdom lics in looks not words;
Blund'rers, who level in the dark,
And always shoot beside the mark."
He names not me; but these are hints,
Which manifest at whom he squints,
I were indeed that blund'ring fowl,
To question if he meant an owl.
Ye wretches, hencel the Eagle cries,
'Tis confcience, confcience that applies;
The virtuous mind takes no alarm,
Secur'd by innocence from harm;
While Guilt, and his afsociate Fear,
Are startled at the paffing air.
§ 311. FABLE II. The Panther, the Ho
and other Beasts.
THE man who seeks to win the fair
(So custom fays) must truth forbear;
Muft fawn and flatter, cringe and lye,
And raise the goddess to the sky.
For truth is hateful to her ear;
A rudeness which she cannot bear.
A rudeness! Yes, I speak my thoughts;
For truth upbraids her with her faults.
How wretched, Chloe, then am I,
Who love you and yet cannot lye?
And ftill, to make you less my friend,
I strive your errors to amend !
But shall the senseless fop impart
The fofteft paffion to your heart;
While he, who tells you honest truth)
And points to happiness your youth,
Determines, by his care, his lot,
And lives neglected and forgot ?
Trust me, my dear, with greater ease,
Your taste for flatt'ry I could please;
And fimiles in each dull line,
Like glow-worms in the dark, should thingy
What if I fay your lips difclose
The freshness of the op'ning rose?
Or that your cheeks are beds of flow'rsy
Enripen'd by refreshing show'rs?
Yet certain as these flow'rs shall fade,
Time ev'ry beauty will invade.
The buttersty of various hue,
More than the flow'r resembles you;
Fair, flutt'ring, fickle, busy thing,
To pleasure ever on the wing,
Gaily coquetting for an hour,
To die, and ne'er be thought of more.
Would you the bloom of youth should lat
'Tis virtue that must bind it fast;
An eafy carriage, wholly free
From four referves or levity;
Good-natur'd mirth, an open heart,
And looks unskilld in any art;
Humility enough to own
The frailties which a friend makes knowny
And decent pride enough to know
The worth that virtue can beftow.
Thefe are the charms which ne'er decay,
Though youth and beauty fade away;
And time, which all things else removes,
Still heightens virtue, and improves,
You" frown, and ask, To what intent
This sunt address to you is fent?
I are the question, and confefs
I'd pale you, if I lov'dyou lefs.
Bat rai, be angry, or complain,
I will be rude while youre vain.
Beneath a lion's peaceful reign,
When bealts met friendy on the plain,
A Panther of majeftir port
(The vainelt female of the court)
With ipotted ikin, and eyes of fire,
Fili'd every bojom with defire.
Where'er the moved, a fervile crowd
Of fawning creatures cring'd and bow'd:
Asemblies ev rv week the held
(Like modern belles) with coxcombs fill'd;
Where noite, and nonfenfe, and grimace,
And lyes, and scandal, fill'd the place.
Besold the gay fantastic thing
Encircled by the fpacious ring!
Low bowing, with important look,
As firit in rank, the Monkey spoke:
• God take me, madam! but I swear,
gel ever look'd fo fair:
Forgive my rudeness, but I vow
You were ant quite divine till now;
THE prudent nymph, whose cheeks difclose
The lily and the blushing rofe,
From pu
public view her charms will screen,
And rarely in the crowd be seen;
This fimple truth shall keep her wife-
"The fairest fruits attract the flies."
One night a Glow-worm, proud and vain,
Contemplating her glitt'ring train,
Cried, Sure there never was in nature
So elegant, fo fine a creature.
All other infects that I fee,
The frugal ant, industrious bee,
Or filk-worm, with contempt I view;
With all that low, mechanic crew,
Theme fris, that thape! and then those eyes! Who fervilely their lives employ
O close them, or the gazer dies!"
Nay, gente rug, for goodnets hush,
I v. w and iwear you make me blush; I call be angry at this rate;
"Tis like hatt'ry, which I hate.
The Fox, in deeper cunning vers'd,
The beauties of her mind rehears'd,
And teadsi knowledge, taite, and sense,
To which the fair have valt pretence!
Yet well he knew them always vain
Of what trev time not to attain;
And play'd lo cunningly his part,
Taat pag was rival'd in his art.
The Goat avow'd his am'rous flame,
And bunt for what he durft not name;
Yet hop'd a meeting in the wood
Might make his meaning understood.
Hi angry at the bold address,
fwd; but yet the must confefs Sachbeauties might inflame his blood,
The Hog her neatness much admir'd;
The formal Afs her fwiftness fir'd:
Wheal to feed her folly strove,
And by their praises shar'd her love.
The Horse, whose gen'rous heart disdain'd
Andeby fervile flatt'ry gain'd,
Anders with indignation broke:
Wegateful courage filence broke,
Wien dat ring monkeys fawn and prate,
They raife contempt or hate;
For merit's turn'd to ridicule,
plauded by the grinning fool.
The artful fox your wit commends,
Ture you to his felfish ends;
the vile flatt'rer turn away,
kates make friendships to betray.
In bus'ness, enemy to joy.
Mean, vulger herd! ye are my fcorn;
For grandeur only I was born,
Or fure am fprung from race divine
And plac'd on earth to live and shine.
Those lights that sparkle so on high,
Are but the glow-worms of the sky;
And kings on earth their gems admire,
Because they imitate my fire.
She fpoke. Attentive on a spray,
A Nightingale forbore his lay;
He saw the shining mortel near,
And flew, directed by the glare;
Awhile he gaz'd with fober look,
And thus the trembling prey bespoke:
Deluded fool, with pride elate!
Know, 'tis thy beauty brings thy fate:
Lefs dazzling, long thou mightít have lain
Unheeded on the velvet plain :
Pride, foon or late, degraded mourns,
And beauty wrecks whom the adorns.
§ 313. FABLE IV. Hymen and Death.
SIXTEEN, d'ye say? Nay then 'tis time;
Another year destroys your prime.
But stay-the fettlement?" That 's made."
Why then 's my fimple girl afraid ?
Yet hold a moment, if you can,
And heedfully the fable scan.
The shades were fled, the morning blufh'd,
The winds were in their caverns hush'd,
When Hymen, penfive and fedate,
Held o'er the fields his musing gait.
Behind him, thro' the green-wood shade,
Death's meagre form the god survey'd;
Who quickly, with gigantic stride,
Outwent his pace, and join'd his fide.
The chat on various subjects ran,
Till angry Hymen thus began :
Relentless Death! whose iron fway
Mortais reluctant muft obey,
Still of thy pow'r fhall I complain,
And thy too partial hand arraign?
When Cupid brings a pair of hearts,
All over Ruck with equal darts,
Thy cruel thafts my hopes deride,
And cut the knot that Ilymen tied
Shali not the bloody and the bold,
The mifer hearding up his gold,
The harlot recking from the flew,
Alone thy fell revenge purfue?
But must the gentle and the kind
Thy fury, und ftinguith'd, find?
The monarch calmly thus replied:
Weigh weil the cause, and then decide.
That friend of yours you lately nam'd,
Curid alone, is to be blam'd;
Ton let the charge be juftly laid:
Tre idte boy neglects his trade,
And h dly one in twenty years
A compic to your temple bears.
The wretche, when your office blends,
Sienus nox, or Placus fends;
Hice case, and bitterness, and strife,
Ате солинол to the nuptial life.
Deleve wel more than all mankind
Your vot'ries my compaffion find.
Yet cruel am I call'd, and bafe,
Who teek the wretched to release;
The captive from his bonds to free,
Indiffoluble but for me.
'Tis I entice him to the yoke;
By me your crowded altars smoke:
For mortais boldly dare the noofe,
Secure that Death will fet them loofe.
The Poet and bis Patron、
WHY, Cælia, is your fpreading waift
So loose, so negligently lac'd?
Why raust the wrapping bed-gown hide
Your tnowy bofom's fwelling pride?
How ill that dreis adorns your head,
Diftain'd and rumpled from the bed!
These clouds that fhade your blooming face
A little water might displace,
As Nature ev'ry morn bestows
The crystal dew to cleanie the rofe.
Thofe treffes, as the raven black,
That wav'd in ringlets down your back,
Uncomb'd, and injur'd by neglect,
Destroy the face which once they deck'd.
Whence this forgetfulness of drefs?
Pray, Madam, are you married? - Yes.
Nay. then indeed the wonder ceafes;
No matter now how loose your dres is;
The end is won, your forture's made;
Your fished now thay take the trade.
Alas! what pity 'tis to find
This tauit in half the formale kind!
From hence procced avertion, ftrife,
And all that fours the wedded life.
Beauty can only point the dart,
"Tis neatness guides it to the heart;
Let neatness then and beauty strive
To keep a wav'ring flame alive.
'Tis harder far (you'll find it true)
To keep the conquest, than fubdue;
Admit us once behind the screen,
What is there farther to be seen?
A newer face may raise the flame,
But ev'ry woman is the fame.
Then study chiefly to improve
The charm that fix'd your husband's love.
Weigh well his humour. Was it dress
That gave your beauty pow'r to bless?
Purfue it still; be neater feen;
'Tis always frugal to be clean;
So fhall you keep alive defire,
And time's fwift wing shall fan the fire.
In garret high (as stories fay) A Poet fung his tuneful lay; So foft, fo fmooth, his verfe you'd swear Apollo and the Muses there: Thro' all the town his praises rung; His fonnets at the playhouse, fung; High waving o'er his lab'ring, head, The goddefs Want her pinions spread, And with poetic fury fir'd What Phoebus faintly bad infpir'd.
A noble youth, of taite and wit, Approv'd the fprightly things he writ And fought him in his cobweb dome, Discharged his rent, and brought him home.
Behold him at the stately board!
Who but the Poet and my Lord!
Each day deliciously he dines,
And greedy quatts the gen'rous wines;
His fides were plump, his skin was fleek,
And plenty wanton'd on his check;
Astonish'd at the change so new,
Away th' infpiring goddess flew.
Now, dropt for politics and news,
Neglected lay the drooping muse,
Uninindful whence his fortune came,
He stifled the poetic flame;
Nor tale, nor fonnet, for my lady,
Lampoon, nor epigram, was ready.
With just contempt his Patron faw
(Refolv'd his bounty to withdraw);
And thus, with anger in his look,
The late-repenting fool befpoke:
Blind to the good that courts thee grown Whence has the fun of favour thone? Delighted with thy tuneful art, Esteem was growing in my heart; But idly thou reject'ft the charm That gave it birch, and kept it warm. Unthinking fools alone defpife The arts that taught them firit to rife. The Wolf, the Sheeps
DUTY demands, the parent's voice
Should fanctify the daughter's choice:
In that is due obedience thewn;
To choose, belongs to her alone.
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