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Chiefs, by whose Virtue mighty Rome was rais'd*
Those hallow'd ruins better pleas'd to see
As late on Virgil's tomb fresh flow'rs I strow'd,
Great Bard, whose numbers I myself inspire,
That flow majestic from thy nobler Bays;
Nor, when each soft engaging Muse is thine, Address the least attractive of the Nine. 60
Of thee more worthy were the task, to raise A lasting Column to thy Country's Praise, To sing the Land, which yet alone can boast That Liberty corrupted Rome has lost; Where Science in the arms of Peace is laid, 65 And plants her Palm beneath the Olive's shade. Such was the Theme for which my lyre I strung, Such was the People whose exploits I fung; Brave, yet refin'd, for Arms and Arts renown'd, With difPrentbaysby Mars and Phœbus crown'd, Dauntless opposers of Tyrannic Sway, But pleas'd, a mild Augustus to obey.
If these commands submissive thou receive,
And howl with Furies in tormenting fire;
. WITH A
Discourse on Pastoral.
Written in the Year Mdcciv;
Rura mihi et rigui placeant in vallibus amnes, Flumina amem, sylvasque, inglorius! Vine*