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To what new clime, what distant sky,

Forsaken, friendless, shall ye fly?'
Say, will ye bless the bleak Atlantic shore?
Of bid the furious Gaul be rude no more?

STROPHE II.
When Athens sinks by fates unjust,
When wild Barbarians spurn her duft ;
Perhaps ev'n Britain's utmost shore
Shall cease to blush with stranger's gore,
See Arts her savage sons controul,

And Athens rising near the pole !
'Till some new Tyrant lifts his purple hand,
And civil madriess tears them from the land.

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25

ANTISTROPHE II.
Ye Gods ! what justice rules the ball ?
Freedom and Arts together fall;
Fools grant whate’er Ambition craves,
And men, once ignorant, are slaves.
Oh curs'd effects of civil hate,

In ev'ry age, in ev'ry state !
Still, when the luft of tyrant power succeeds,
Some Athens perishes, some Tully bleeds.

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3

CHORUS

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CHORUS of Youths and Virgins.

OrTyrant Love ! halt thou pofleft

TO

SEMICHORUS.
H

The prudent, learn'd, and virtuous breast ?
Wisdom and wit in vain reclaim,
And Arts but soften us to feel thy flame.
Love, soft intruder, enters here,

5
But entring learns to be fincere.
Marcus with blushes owns he loves,
And Brutus tenderly reproves.
Why, Virtue, doft thou blame defire,

Which Nature has imprest?
Why, Nature, doft thou soonest fire
The mild and gen'rous breast ?...

CHORU S.
- Love's purer fames the Gods approve;
The Gods and Brutus bend to love :
Brutus for absent Portia fighs,

15 And sterner Caffius melts at sunia's eyes.

What is loose love?-a-transient gust,
Spent in a sudden storm of luft,
A vapour fed from wild desire,
A wand'ring, self-consuming fire.

20 But Hymen's kinder flames unite;

And burn for ever one ;
Chaste as cold Cynthia's virgin light,

Productive as the Sun.
Ver. 9. Wby, Virtue, etc.) In allufion to that famous
conceit of Guarini,
“ Se il peccare è sì dolce, etc.

SE. 30

SEMICHORUS. Oh source of ev'ry social tye,

25 United wish, and mutual joy!

What various joys on one attend,
As fon, as father, brother, husband, friend?

Whether his hoary fire he sfies,
While thousand grateful thoughts arise;
Or meets his spouse's fonder eye;
Or views his smiling progeny;
What tender passions take their turns,

What home-felt raptures move?
His heart now melts, now leaps, now burns,
With rev'rence, hope, and love.

CHORUS.
Hence guilty joys, distastes, surmizes,
Hence false tears, deceits, disguises,
Dangers, doubts, delays, surprizes ;

Fires that scorch, yet dare not shine:
Purest love's unwasting treasure,
Constant faith, fair hope, long leisure,
Days of ease, and nights of pleafure;

Sacred Hymen! these are thine,

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O DE

ODE on SOLITUDE*

H

APPY the man, whose wish and care

A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air,

In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with attire,

6 Whose trees in summer yield him shade,

In winter fire.

IO

Blest, who can unconcern’dly find

Hours, days, and years Nide foft away, In health of body, peace of mind,

Quiet by day, Sound sleep by night; ftudy' and ease,

Together mixt; sweet recreation; And innocence, which most does please

With meditation,
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,

Thus unlamented let me die,
Steal from the world, and not a stone

Tell where I lie.

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• This was a very early production of our Author, written at about twelve years old. P.

VOL. I.

G

The

The dying Christian to his SOU L.

O DE *

VITAL

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1.
ITAL fpark of heav'nly Aame !

Quit, oh quit this mortal frame:
Trembling, hoping, ling’ring, flying;

Oh the pain, the bliss of dying!
Ceafe, fond Nature, cease thy ftrife,
And let me languilh into life.

II.
Hark! they whisper ; Angels says
Sister Spirit, come away.
What is this absorbs me quite ?

Steals my senses, inuts my fight,
Drowns my spirits, draws my breath?
Tell me, my Soul, can this be Death?

ILI. The

* This ode was written in imitation of the famous fonnet of Hadrian to his departing foul ; but as much superior in sense and sublimity to his original, as the Chriftian Religion is to the Pagan.

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