and prove an entertainment to YOUR ROYAL HIGHNESS; if it can in any degree answer the dignity of the fubject, and of the name under which I prefume to fhelter it; I have my best reward: particularly as it affords me an opportunity of declaring that I am, with the greatest zeal and respect,

SIR,

YOUR ROYAL HIGHNESS'S

Moft obedient

And moft devoted Servant,

JAMES THOMSON.

HE following Poem is thrown into the form of a

THE

Poetical Vifion. Its Scene the ruins of antient Rome. The GODDESS of LIBERTY, who is fuppofed to Speak thro' the whole, appears, characterized as BRITISH LIBERTY; to Ver. 44. Gives a view of Antient Italy, and particularly of Republican Rome, in all her magnificence and glory; to Ver. 112. This contrafted by Modern Italy; its valleys, mountains, culture, cities, people: the difference appearing frongest in the Capital City Rome; to Ver. 234. The ruins of the great works of LIBERTY more magnificent than the borrowed pomp of OPPRESSION; and from them revived Sculpture, Painting, and Architecture; to Ver. 256. The old Romans apoftrophiz'd, with regard to the fiveral melancholy changes in ITALY: HORACE, TULLY, and VIRGIL, with regard to their Tibur, Tufculum, and Naples; to Ver. 287. That once finest and most ornamented part of Italy, all along the Coaft of Baix, bow changed; to Ver. 321. This defolation of Italy applied to Britain; to Ver. 344. Addrefs to the GODDESS of LIBERTY, that he would deduce from the first ages, ker chief establishments, the defcription of which conftitute the fubject of the following parts of this Poem. She affents, and commands what she says to be fung in Britain; whofe happiness, arifing from freedom, monarchy, he marks; to Ver. 391. VISION attends, and paints her wards.

and a limited

An immediate Invocation.

LIBER T Y.

PART I.

5

My lamented TALBOT! while with thee The Megay rov'd theglad Hesperian round, Anddrewthe inspiring breathof antient arts; Ah! little thought fhe her returning verfe Should fing our darling fubject to thy Shade. And does the mystic veil, from mortal beam, Involve thofe eyes where every virtue fmil'd, And all thy FATHER'S candid fpirit shone? The light of reason, pure, without a cloud; Full of the generous heart, the mild regard; Honour difdaining blemish, cordial faith, And limpid truth, that looks the very foul. But to the death of mighty nations turn, My ftrain; be there abforpt the private tear.

MUSING, I lay; warm from the facred walks, 15 Where at each step imagination burns:

While scatter'd wide around, awful, and hoar,
Lies, a vast monument, once-glorious Rome,
The tomb of empire! ruins! that efface
Whate'er, of finish'd, modern pomp can boast.

20

SNATCH'D by these wonders to that world were thought

Unfetter'd ranges, Fancy's magic hand

Led me anew o'er all the folemn scene,

Still in the mind's pure eye more folemn dreft.

When ftraight, methought, the fair majeftic POWER Of LIBERTY appear'd. Not, as of old,

26

Extended in her hand the cap, and rod,

Whose flave-enlarging touch gave double life:
But her bright temples bound with British oak,
And naval honours nodded on her brow.
Sublime of port: loose o'er her fhoulder flow'd
Her fea-green robe, with conftellations gay.
An ifland-goddess now; and her high care
The Queen of Ifles, the mistress of the main.
My heart beat filial transport at the fight;
And, as she mov'd to speak, th' awakened Muse
Liften'd intenfe. A while fhe look'd around,
With mournful eye the well-known ruins mark'd,
And then, her fighs repreffing, thus began.

30

35

MINE

MINE are these wonders, all thou fee'st is mine; 40 But ah how chang'd! the falling poor remains Of what exalted once th' Aufonian fhore.

Look back thro' time; and, rifing from the gloom, Mark the dread scene, that paints whate'er I say.

THE great Republic fee! that glow'd, fublime, 45
With the mixt freedom of a thousand states
Rais'd on the thrones of Kings her Curule Chair,
And by her Fafces aw'd the fubject world.
See bufy millions quickning all the land,
With cities throng'd, and teeming culture high: 50
For Nature then fmil'd on her free-born fons,
And pour'd the plenty that belongs to Men.
Behold, the country chearing, villas rife,
In lively profpect; by the fecret lapfe

Of brooks now loft and ftreams renown'd in fong: 55
In Umbria's clofing vales, or on the brow
Of her brown hills that breathe the scented gale:
On Baia's viny coaft; where peaceful feas,
Fan'd by kind zephirs, ever kiss the shore;
And funs unclouded fhine, thro' purest air:
Or in the spacious neighbourhood of Rome ;;
Far-fhining upward to the Sabine hills,
To Anio's roar, and Tibur's olive shade;
To where Prenefte lifts her airy brow;

60

Or downward spreading to the funny shore,
Where Alba breathes the freshness of the main.

65

SEE

C 4