Yet aim'd to give, by friendship's kind controul, And well hast thou, to make those years conduce Affign'd of early life thy ftudious prime To bright Italia's art-enlighten'd clime; That clime, where Milton, at an age like thine, So may the modern lord of Sculpture's sphere, Whose mighty hand to many an art was dear May lofty Angelo thy mind inflame, As happily to vie with Tuscan fame! Then shall thy country, while thy works display See NOTE II. 130 140 Radiant, at last, with sculptural renown, (A gem long wanting in her lucid crown,) Feel new distinction animate her heart, And high precedence hold in every art. Pass not this prefage in Detraction's eyes For partial friendship's weak or vain surmise; May'st thou, my friend! whofe well-inftructed youth "Talents are power which men from God deduce, "And beft acknowledge by benignant use ;"May'ft thou, by years of profperous ftudy, reach Remote Perfection, that no precepts teach! May'ft thou, like Angelo and Milton, close A life of labour in divine repose, In that calm vale of years, by Science bleft, Where well-earn'd honour warms the veteran's breast, Acknowledg’d (to reward his mental strife) A fovereign of the art to which he gave his life! 150 160 Enough for me, whose thrilling nerves confess For me, who hold, in life's autumnal days, Incentive notes in Friendship's partial ear; A crippled boatswain, for Old England's fake, O generous paffion, under just command, And made them idols of the cultur'd mind: 170 180 From thee the hero, as the artist, caught. ; The patriot passion is a fordid jest ; the noble warmth he ne'er can feel. O, blind to Nature the false fage, who thinks 190 200 That pride, the generous root of Grecian praise, With attic vigour in an English breast! Say, fervent Flaxman! when, with new delight, Thy travels led thee first to feast thy fight Where Sculpture reigns, and holds her triumph still, 210 With hoarded miracles of ancient skill; When first thine eyes thofe darling forms furvey'd That make the colours of defcription fade, Feeling their potent charms in every vein, Prov'd not thy fwelling heart a proud defire Feelings like these the fervent Milton found, 220 |