Whofe daring hand the dart of triumph hurl'd,
Who rul'd, in Babylon, the eastern world;
And, pleas'd the bounds of tranfient life to pass,
Aim'd at eternal fway in animated brass *.

Alas! how vain, in Afia's crumbling foil,
Prov'd the proud efforts of imperial Toil!
Where are thy wonders, Babylon? What eye
May now a veftige of thy art descry?
The cautious ftudents in hiftoric lore
Question the marvels they in vain explore;
Thy boasted fights a splendid fable deem,

And hold Semiramis herself a dream +..

But hafte, thou lovely goddess of my lays,

Whose varying powers command my willing praise!
Lead me from ruins, where I hardly meet

Uncertain traces of thy long-paft feet,

To fcenes of folid, though of gloomy truth,
The dark afylum of +*

* See

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Strangers to Freedom, gaiety, and grace,
Could build renown upon a lasting base;
And all the ravage of deftruction foil
By the calm powers of persevering toil?
Yes, Egypt, here let thy just praise be read,
Thy tender rev'rence for the virtuous dead;
And thy fond care, by Sculpture's noblest aim,
To give beneficence a deathless name!

Time on that care beftows the wish'd effect,

And guards thy massive monarchs with respect *.
Let not nice Tafte, of purer fancy vain,

This praise of old and graceless art arraign :
Should a magician usher to our view

An ancient wrinkled dame of dingy hue,

Big-bon'd and stiff, and muttering mangled verse,

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Then should he say, with truth, "See Helen's nurse !"

The swarthy beldam friendly hands would shake,

And all would bless her for her nurfling's fake.

See NOTE VII.

Such Memphian art, to attic minds endear'd;

For Greece, their Helen! was by Ægypt rear'd*.

Ye first and faireft of ideal forms,

Whom beauty decorates, and paffion warms!
Ye Graces, who beheld, with just delight,

All Greece one temple, by your presence bright!
Conduct a modern bard, in fancy's hour,
To view that temple; confcious of your power,
Conscious your favour full success ensures ;

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The paths of knowledge, truth, and fame are yours †. Your aid a vital charm to toil imparts,

The deathlefs foul of transmigrating arts.

Offspring of Freedom and of Feeling! you
Outlive your parents, and their life renew:
Immortal in their works, your endless sway
Can bring departed talents into day;
Convince the world your influence fublime
Fears no fictitious bars of foil or clime;

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Exalt my country with your kindest smile,
And raise an Athens in this northern ifle!

My daring verfe avows the patriot aim

To quicken Britain's love for boundless fame;

To raise her pitch of emulation high,

With Grecian Sculpture's perfect fons to vie.

When foreign pride would British minds enchain,

Perish the doubt, prepofterously vain,

That mental tyrants arrogantly start

To limit England in the sphere of art * !

Has she not borne, to men and angels dear,

A poet who, beyond his Greek compeer,

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In Fancy's field the disk of glory hurl'd

The hallow'd Homer of the Chriftian world?

170

Affociate Arts alternate luftre lend;

Each, in her hour, appears a fifter's friend.

Say why in sculpture Greece has reign'd fupreme?
Nature with marble gave her rocks to teem;

* See NOTE X.