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And now the chapel's silver bell you hear,
But, hark! the chiming clocks to dinner call;
Yet hence the poor are clothed, the hungry fed; Health to himself, and to his infants bread, The labourer bears : what his hard heart denies, His charitable vanity supplies. Another
shall see the golden ear Imbrown the slope, and nod on the parterre,
Deep harvests bury all his pride has plann'd,
Who then shall grace, or who improve the soil?-
from sense. His father's acres who enjoys in peace, Or makes his neighbours glad if he increase; Whose cheerful tenants bless. their yearly toil, Yet to their lord owe more than to the soil; Whose ample lawns are not ashamed to feed The milky heifer and deserving steed; Whose rising forests, not for pride or show, But future buildings, future navies, grow: Let his plantations stretch from down to down, First shade a country, and then raise a town.
You, too, proceed! make falling arts your care, Erect new wonders, and the old repair ; Jones and Palladio to themselves restore, And be whate'er Vitruvius was before : Till kings call forth the ideas of your mind, (Proud to accomplish what such hands design’d) Bid harbours open, public ways extend, Bid temples worthier of the God ascend, Bid the broad arch the dangerous flood contain, The mole projected break the roaring main ; Back to his bounds their subject sea command, And roll obedient rivers through the land : These honours peace to happy Britain brings ; These are imperial works, and worthy kings.
OCCASIONED BY HIS DIALOGUES ON MEDALS.
See the wild waste of all-devouring years !
fury some religious rage :
Ambition sigh’d: she found it vain to trust The faithless column and the crumbling bust; Huge moles, whose shadow stretch'd from shore
to shore, Their ruins perish’d, and their place no more! Convinced, she now contracts her vast design, And all her triumphs shrink into a coin. A narrow orb each crowded conquest keeps, Beneath her palm here sad Judea weeps. Now scantier limits the proud arch confine, And scarce are seen the prostrate Nile or Rhine;
A small Euphrates through the piece is rollid,
The medal, faithful to its charge of fame,
, The sacred rust of twice ten hundred To gain Pescennius one employs his schemes, One grasps a Cecrops in ecstatic dreams. Poor Vadius, long with learned spleen devour’d, Can taste no pleasure since his shield was scour'd; And Curio, restless by the fair-one's side, Sighs for an Otho, and neglects his bride.
Theirs is the vanity, the learning thine: Touch'd by thy hand, again Rome's glories shine; Her gods and godlike heroes rise to view, And all her faded garlands bloom anew. Nor blush these studies thy regard engage; These pleased the fathers of poetic rage; The verse and sculpture bore an equal part, And art reflected images to art.
Oh, when shall Britain, conscious of her claim, Stand emulous of Greek and Roman fame? In living medals see her wars enrolld, And vanquish'd realms supply recording gold? Here, rising bold, the patriot's honest face; There, warriors frowning in historic brass : Then future ages with delight shall see How Plato's, Bacon's, Newton's looks agree; Or in fair series laurell’d bards be shown, A Virgil there, and here an Addison:
Then shall thy Craggs (and let me call him mine)
Statesman, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere,
ODE ON ST. CECILIA'S DAY.
DESCEND, ye Nine! descend and sing ;
In a sadly pleasing strain
Let the loud trumpet sound,
The shrill echoes rebound;
Hark! the numbers soft and clear
And fill with spreading sounds the skies : Exulting in triumph now swell the bold notes, In broken air trembling, the wild music floats ;