For our's the King, who boafts a parent's praise,
Whose hand the people's fceptre sways;
Ours is the Senate, not a fpecious name,
Whose active plans pervade the civil frame :
Where bold debate its nobleft war displays,
And, in the kindling ftrife, unlocks the tide
Of manlieft eloquence, and rolls the torrent wide.
VI.
Hence then, each vain complaint, away,
Each captious doubt, and cautious fear!
Nor blast the new-born year,
That anxious waits the fpring's flow-fhooting ray:
Nor deem that Albion's honours cease to bloom.
With candid glance, th' impartial Muse
Invok'd on this aufpicious morn,
The present scans, the diftant scene pursues,
And breaks Opinion's fpeculative gloom :
Interpreter of ages yet unborn,
Full right the fpells the characters of Fate,
That Albion still shall keep her wonted state!
Still, in eternal story, shine,
Of Victory the fea-beat fhrine;
The fource of every splendid art,
Of old, of future worlds the univerfal mart.
ODE for his MAJESTY's Birth-Day, June 4, 1786. Written by the Rev. T. WARTON, Poet Laureat.
HEN Freedom nurs'd her native fire
In ancient Greece, and rul'd the lyre;
Her bards, disdainful, from the tyrant's brow
The tinfel gifts of flattery tore;
But paid to guiltlefs power their willing vow:
And to the throne of virtuous kings,
Tempering the tone of their vindictive ftrings,.
From truth's unproftituted fhore,
The fragrant wreath of gratulation bore.
'Twas thus Alceus fmote the manly chord;
And Pindar on the Perfian lord
His notes of indignation hurl'd,.,
And fpurn'd the minstrel flaves of eastern sway,
From trembling Thebes extorting confcious fhame;
But o'er the diadem, by Freedom's flame
Illum'd, the banner of renown unfurl'd:
Thus to his Hiero decreed,
'Mongft the bold chieftains of the Pythian game,
The brightest verdure of Caftalia's bay;
And gave an ampler meed
Of Pifan palms, than in the field of Fame
Were wont to crown the car's victorious speed:
And hail'd his fcepter'd champion's patriot zeal,
Who mix'd the monarch's with the people's weal;
From civil plans who claim'd applause,
And train'd obedient realms to Spartan laws.
And He, fweet master of the Doric oat,
Theocritus, forfook awhile
The graces of his pastoral ifle,
The lowing vale, the bleating cote,
The clusters on the funny steep,
And Pan's own umbrage, dark and deep,
The caverns hung with ivy-twine,
The cliffs that wav'd with oak and pine,
And Etna's hoar romantic pile:
And caught the bold Homeric note,
In ftately founds exalting high
The reign of bounteous Ptolemy:
Like the plenty-teeming tide
Of his own Nile's redundant flood,
O'er the cheer'd nations, far and wide,
Diffufing opulence, and public good:
While in the richly-warbled lays
Was blended Berenice's name,
Pattern fair of female fame,
Softening with domestic life
Imperial fplendour's dazzling rays,
The queen, the mother, and the wife!
To deck with honour due this feftal day,
O for a ftrain from thefe fublimer bards!
Who free to grant, yet fearless to refuse
Their awful fuffrage, with impartial aim
Invok'd the jealous panegyric Mufe;
Nor, but to genuine worth's feverer claim,
Their proud diftinction deign'd to pay,
Stern arbiters of glory's bright awards!
For peerless bards like these alone,
The bards of Greece, might beft adorn,
With feemly fong, the Monarch's natal mern;
Who, thron'd in the magnificence of peace,
Rivals their richest regal theme:
Who rules a people like their own,
In arms, in polish'd arts fupreme;
Who bids his Britain vie with Greece.
Verfes, fuppofed to be written by ALEXANDER SELKIRK, during his folitary abode in the Island of Juan Fernandez.
From Poems, by W. CowPER, Efq.
AM monarch of all I furvey,
My right there is none to difpute,
From the centre all round to the fea,
I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
Oh folitude! where are the charms
That fages have feen in thy face?
Better dwell in the midst of alarms,
Than reign in this horrible place.
II.
I am out of humanity's reach,
I must finish my journey alone,
Never hear the fweet mufic of speech,
I ftart at the found of my own.
The beafts that roam over the plain,
My form with indifference fee,
They are fo unacquainted with man,
Their tameness is shocking to me.
II.
Society, friendship, and love,
Divinely bestow'd upon man,
Oh had I the wings of a dove,
How foon wou'd I tafte you again'
My forrows I then might affuage
In the ways of religion and truth,
Might learn from the wisdom of age,
And be cheer'd by the fallies of youth.
IV.
Religion! what treasure untold
Refides in that heav'nly word!
More precious than filver and gold,
Or all that this earth can afford.
But the found of the church-going be!!
These vallies and rocks never heard,
Ne'er figh'd at the found of a knell,
Or fmil'd when a fabbath appear'd.
V.
Ye winds that have made me your sport,
Convey to this defolate fhore
Some cordial endearing report
Of a land I fhall vifit no more.
My friends, do they now and then fend
A wifh or a thought after me?
O tell me I yet have a friend,
Though a friend I am never to fee.
VI.
How fleet is a glance of the mind!
Compar'd with the speed of its flight,
The tempeft itself lags behind,
And the fwift-winged arrows of light.
When I think of my own native land,
In a moment I feem to be there;
But alas! recollection at hand
Soon hurries me back to despair.
VII.
But the fea-fowl is gone to her neft,
The beaft is laid down in his lair,
Ev'n here is a season of rest,
And I to my cabin repair.
There is mercy in every place,
And mercy, encouraging thought!
Gives even affliction a grace,
And reconciles man to his lot.
Report of an adjudged Cafe not to be found in any of the Books.
ETWEEN Nofe and Eyes a ftrange contest arofe,
The spectacles fet them unhappily wrong;
The point in difpute was, as all the world knows,
To which the faid fpectacles ought to belong.
So the Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause
With a great deal of fkill, and a wig full of learning,
While chief baron Ear fat to balance the laws,
So fam'd for his talent in nicely difcerning.
In behalf of the Nofe, it will quickly appear,
And your lordship, he faid, will undoubtedly find
That the Nofe has had fpectacles always in wear,
Which amounts to poffeffion time out of mind.
Then holding the fpectacles up to the court-
Your lordship obferves they are made with a straddle,
As wide as the ridge of the Nose is, in short,
Defign'd to fit close to it, just like a faddle.
Again, would your lordship a moment, suppose
("Tis a cafe that has happen'd, and may be again)
That the vifage or countenance had not a Nofe,
Pray who wou'd or who cou'd wear spectacles then?
VI.
On the whole it appears, and my argument shows
With a reas'ning the court will never condemn,
That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose,
And the Nose was as plainly intended for them.
VII.
Then shifting his fide, as a lawyer knows how,
He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes,
But what were his arguments few people know,
For the court did not think they were equally wife.
VIII.
So his lordship decreed, with a grave folemn tone,
Decifive and clear without one if or but-
That whenever the Nose put his fpectacles on
By day-light or candle-light-Eyes fhould be fut.
The following elegant Ode (from the Gentleman's Magazine) is faid to be the production of a Gentleman well known in the political World, who has long been defervedly admired for the happiest vein of wit and humour, and is not lefs diftinguished by his various and extensive knowledge in almost every branch of literature and fcience.
HILST you illumine Shakespeare's page,.
And dare the future critic's rage,
Or on the past refine,
many an eve I penfive fit,
No Burke pours out a stream of wit,
No Bofwell joys o'er wine.
|