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Can Honour's voice provoke the filent dust,
Or Aatt'ry footh the dull cold ear of death? Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid
Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire : Hands, that the rod of empire might have sway'd,
'Or wak'd to ecstasy the living lyre. But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page,
Rich with the spoils of Time, did ne'er unroll; . Chill Penury repress’d their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul. ; . Full many, a gem, of purest ray serene,
The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear : Full many a fow'r is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village-Hampden, that with dauntless breaft
The little tyrant of his fields withstood; Some mute inglorious Milton here may reft ;
Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. Th' applause of lift'ning fenates to command,
The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter plenty o’er a smiling land,
And read their hist'ry in a nation's eyes. Their lot forbade; nor circumscrib'd alone
Their growing virtues, but their crimes confin'd; · Forbade to wade through Naughter to a throne,
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind : The strugling pangs of conscious truth to hide,
To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Or heap the shrine of luxury and pride ;
With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.
« His lifless length at noontide would be tretch, I
“ And pore upon the brook that bubbles by. « Hard by yon wood, now smiling, as io scorn,
“Mutring his wayward fancies, he would sons; « Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn,
« Or craz'd with care, or cross'd in hopeless love * One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hili,
“ Along the heath, and near his fav’rite tree; *** Another came; nor yet beside the rill,
“Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he. " The next, with dirges due, in sad array, (borne,
“ Slow through the church-yard path we saw him “ Approach, and read (for thou canst read) the lay,
“ Gray'd on the fone beneath yon aged thorn."
A Youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown;
And Melancholy mark'd him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul fincere,
Heay'n did a recompense as largely send : He gave to Misöry, all he had, a tear,
He gain'd from Heav'n('twas all he wilh’d)a Friend. No further seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, , (There they alike in trembling hope repose)
The bofom of his father and his God.
THĘ PROGRESS OF POESY,
A PINDARIC ODE.
I. 1., WAKE, Æolian lyre, awake, ind give to Rapture all thy trembling Arings! rom Helicon's harmonious springs A thousand rills their mazy progress take : The laughing flow’rs, that round them blow, Drink life and fragrance as they flow. Now the rich stream of music winds along, Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong, Thro' verdant vales, and Ceres' golden reign : Now rolling down the steep amain, Headlong, impetuous, see it pour : The rocks and nodding groves re-bellow to the roar.