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Thence Crete they view, cmerging from the main, | A direful front; now o'er the trembling field
The queen of isles ; but Crete they view in vain; Rushes th'embattled foot; noise rends the skies,
There Talus, whirling with resistless sway

Noise uuextinguished: ere the beamy day
Rocks sheer uprent, repels them from the bay: Flam'd in th' aërial vault, stretch'd in the van
A giant, sprung from giant-race, who took Stood the bold infantry: the rushing cars
Their births front entails of the stubborn oak; Forn'd the deep rear in battailous array.
Fierce guard of Crete! by Jove assistant given Now from his Heavens Jove hurls bis burning bolts;
To legislators, styl’d the sons of Heaven : Hoarse muttering thunders grumble in the sky;
To Mercy deaf, he thrice each year explores While from the clouds, instead of morning-dews,
The trembling isle, and strides from shores to Huge drops of blood distain the crimson ground;
A form of living brass! one part bencath (shores : Fatal presage! that in that dreadful day
Alone he bears, a path to let in Death,

The great should bleed, imperial heads lie low ! Where o'er the ankle swells the turgid vein,

Mean time the bands of Truy in proud array Soft to the stroke, and sensible of pain.

Stand to their arins, and from a rising ground And now her magic spells Medea' tries,

Breathe furious war: here gathering hosts attend Bids the red fiends, the dogs of Orcus rise,

The towering Hector : there refulgent bands That, starting dreadful from th' infernal shade,

Surround Polydamas, Æneas there Ride Heaven in storms, and all that breathes, in- Marshals his dauntless files; nor unemploy'd vade;

Stand Polybus, Agenor great in arms, Thrice she applies the power of magic prayer,

And Acamas, whose frame the gods endow'd Thrice, hellward bending, mutters charms in air ;

With more than mortal charms : fierce in the van Then, turning tow'rd the foe, bids Mischief fiy, Stern Hector shines, and shakes his blazing sbield. And looks Destruction as she points her eye :

As the fierce dog-star with malignant fires Then spectres, rising from Tartarean bowers,

Flames in the front of Heaven, then, lost in clouds, Houl round in air, or grin along the shores;

Veils his pernicious beams; froin rank to rank While, tearing up whole hills', the giant throws,

So Hector strode ; now dreadful in the van Outrageous, rocks on rocks, to crush, the foes :

Advanc'd his sun-broad shield, vow to the rear But, frantic as he strides, a sudden wound

Swift rushing disappear'd : His radiant arms Burts the life-vein, and blood o'erspreads the

Blaz'd on his limbs, and bright as Jove's dire bolts As from the furnace, in a burning food, (ground: Flashd o'er the field, and lighter'd to the skies. Pours molten lead, so pours in streams his blood;

As toiling reapers in some spacious field, And now he staggers, as the spirit flies,

Rang'd in two bands. move adverse, rank on rank, He faints, he sinks, he tumbles, and he dies.

Where o'er the tilth the grain in ears of gold As some huge cedar on a mountain's brow,

Waves nodding to the breeze; at once they bend, Pierc'd by the steel, expects the final blow,

At once the copious harvest swells the ground: A while it totters with alternate sway,

So rush to battle o'er the dreadful field Till freshening breezes through the branches play; Host against host; they meet, they close, and ranks Then, tumbling downward with a thundering sound, Tumble on ranks; no thoughts appear of flight, Falls headlong, and o'erspreads a breadth of ground : None of dismay: dubious in even scales So, as the giant falls, the ocean roars ;

The battle hangs; nut fiercer, ravenous wolves Out-stretch'd he lies, and covers half the shores.

Dispute the prey; the deathful scene with joy
Discord, dire parent of tremendous woes,
Surveys exultant: of th' immortal train
Discord alone descends, assists alone
The horrours of the field; in peace the gods,

High in Olympian bowers, on radiant thrones,
THE ILIADS OF HOMER.

Lament the works of man; but loud complaints

From every god arose ; Jove favour'd Troy, Now gay Aurora from Tithonus' bed

At partial Jove they murmurd: he, unmov’d,

All Heaven in murmurs heard : Apart he sate Rose in the orient, to proclaim the day

Enthrond in glory: down to Farth he turn'd To gods and men : down to the Grecian tents

His stedfast eve, and from his throne survey'd Saturnian Jove sends Discord, red with blood ; The rising towers of Troy, the tented shores, War in her hand she grasps, ensigns of war; The blaze of arms, the slayer, and the slain. On brave l’lys-es' ship she took her stand,

While, with his morning wheels, the god of day The centre of the host, that all night hear Climb'd up the steep of Heaven, with equal rage Her dreadful voice: her dreadful voice she rais'd; In murderous storms the shafts from host to host Jarring along the rattling shorts it ran

Flew adverse, and in equal numbers fell To the tert's wide extremes. Achilles heard, Promiscuous (reek and Trojan, till the hour, And Ajax heard the sou d: with martial tires When the tir'd woodınan, in the shady vale, Nor every bosom burns ; arms, glorions arms, Spreads his penurious meal, when high the Sun Fierce they demand; the noble Ortbean song Flames in the zenith, and his sinewy arms Swells every heart; no coward thoughts of flight Scarce wield the ponderous axe, while hunger keen Rise in their souls, but blood they breathe and war. Admonishes, and Nature, spent with toil, Not by the trench ? profound the charioteers

Craves due repast--Then Greece the ranks of Troy Range their proud steeds; now car by car displays With horrid inroad goard: fierce fiom the van

Sprung the stern king 'otmen, and, breathing death, • Minos and Rhadamanthus.

Where, in firm battle, Trojans band by band . V. 1665.

IV. 1679. 3 V. 48,

Agamemnon, v, 148, VOL XII.

FROM THE ELEVENTH BOOK OP

IN THE STYLE OF MILTON

Embody'd stood, pursued his dreadful way: Thus, when thro'age the Rose-tree's charms de. His host his step attends : now glows the war;

When all her fading beauties die away; [cay, Horse treads on horse; and nan, encountering man, A blooming offspring fills the parent's place Swells the dire field with death: the plunging steeds With equal fragrance, and with equal grace Beat the firm glebes; thick dust in rising clouds But ah! how short a date on Earth is given Darkens the sky. Indignant o'er the plain To the most lovely workmanship of Heaven! Atrides stalks; Death every step attends.

Too soon that cheek must every charm resign, As when, in some huge forest, sudden fames

And those love-darting eyes forget to shine! Rage dreadful, when rough winds assist the blaze, while thousands weeping round, with sighs survey From tree to tree the fiery torrent rolls,

What once was you—now only beauteous clay! And the vast forest sinks with all its groves

Ev'o from the canvass shall thy image fade, Beneath the burning deluge; so whole hosts

And thou re-perish in thy perish'd shade: Yield to Atrides' arm : car against car (ranks Then may this verse to future ages show Rush'd rattling o'er the field, and through the One perfect beauty such as thou art now! Unguided broke; while breathless on the ground

May it the graces of thy soul display, Lay the pale charioteers, in death deform'd;

Till this world sinks, and suns themselves decay ;
To their chaste brides sad spectacles of woe, When with immortal beauty thou shalt rise,
Now only grateful to the fowls of air.

To shine the loveliest angel in the skies.
Mean time, the care of Jove, great Hector stood
Secure in scenes of death, in storms of darts,
In slaughter and alarms, in dust and blood.
Still Agamemnon, rushing o'er the field,

PROLOGUE
Leads his bold bands : whole hosts before him fly;
Now Ilus' tomb they pass, now urge their way TO MR. FENTON'S EXCELLENT TRAGEDY, MARIAMNE.
Close by the fig-tree shade : with shouts the king
Pursues the foe incessant: dust and blood,

When breathing Statues, mouldering, waste away, Blood mix'd with dust, distains his murderous hands. And Tombs, unfaithful to their trust, decay; As when a lion, in the gloom of night,

The Muse rewards the suffering good with fame, Invades an herd of beeves, o'tr all the plains Or wakes the prosperous villain into shame; Trembling they scatter; furious on the prey

To the stern tyrant gives fictitious power The generous savage flies, and with fierce joy To reign the restless monarch of an hour. Seizes the last; his hungry foaming jaws

Obedient to her call, this night appears Churn the black blood, and rend the panting prey: Great Herod rising from a length of years; Thus fled the foe; Atrides thus pursued,

A name! enlarg'd with titles not his own,
And still the hindmost slew: they from their cars Servile to mount, and savage on a throne :
Fell headlong; for his javelin, wild for blood, Yet oft a throne is dire Misfortune's seat,
Rag'd terribly: and now proud Troy had fallin, A pompous wretchedness, and woc in state!
But the dread sire of men and gods descends But such the curse that from ambition springs,
Terrific from his Heavens, his vengeful hand For this he slaughter'd half a race of kings :
Ten thousand thunders grasps : on Ida's heights But now reviving in the British scene,
He takes his stand : it shakes with all its groves He looks majestic with a milder mien,
Beneath the god; the god suspends the war. His features soften'd with the deep distress

(of love, made greatly wretched by excess :
From lust of power to jealous fury tost,
We see the tyrant in the lover lost.

O! Love, thou source of mighty joy or woc!
TO MRS. ELIZ. MT,

Thou softest friend, or man's most dangerous foe! 1716.

Fantastic power! what rage* thy darts inspire,

When too much beauty kindles too much fire! O! WONDROUS art, that grace to shadows gives !

Those darts, to jealous rage stern Herod drove; By whose command the lovely phantom lives!

It was a crime, but crime of too much love ! Smiles with her smiles! the mimic eye instills Yet if condemn'd hc falls--with pitying eyes A real fame! the fancy'd lightning kills ! Behold his injur'd Mariamne rise ! Thus mirrors catch the love-inspiring face, No fancy'd tale! our opening scenes disclose And the new charmer grace returns for grace.

Historic truth, and swell with real woes.
Hence shall thy beauties, when no more appears Awful in virtuous griet' the queen appears,
Their fair possessor, shine a thousand years ; And strong the eloquence of royal tears ;
By age uninjur'd, future times adorn,

By woes ennobled, with majestic pace,
And warm the hearts of millions yet unborn, She meets Misfortune, glorious in disgrace!
Who, gazing on the portrait with a sigh,

Small is the praise of Beauty, when it flies
Shall grieve such perfect charms could ever die : Fair Honour's laws, at best but lovely Vice.
How would they grieve, if to such beauties join'd Charms it like Venus with celestial air?
The paint could show the wonders of thy mind! Ev'n Venus is but scandalously fair ;

() virgin ! born th' admiring world to grace! But when strict honour with fair features joins, Transmit thy excellence to latest days;

Like heat and light, at once it warms and shines. Yield to thy lover's rows! and then shall rise A race of beauties conquering with thine eyes; Who, reigning in thy charins, from Death shall save That lovely form, and triumph o'er the Grave.

What pangs, &c.

ON HER PICTURE.

VARIATIOX.

* Then let her fate your kind attention raise, But when you aid her song, and deign to nod, Whose perfect charms were but her second praise: She spreads a bolder wing, and feels the present Beauty and Virtue your protection claim ;

So the Cumæan prophetess was duinb, (god. Give tears to Beauty, give to Virtue fame.

Blind to the knowledge of events to come;
But when Apollo in her breast abode,
She heav'd, she swellid, she felt the rushing god :

Then accents more than mortal from her broke;
TO MR. A. POPE,

And what the god inspir'd, the priestess spoke. WHO CORRECTED MY VERSES. IF e'er my humble Muse melodious sings, 'Tis when you animate and tune her strings;

MONSIEUR MAYNARD IMITATED. If e'er she mounts, 'tis when you prune her wings.

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
You, like the Sun, your glorious beams display,
Deal to the darkest orb a friendly ray,

THE LORD CORNWALLIS.
And clothe it with the lustre of the day.

WHILE past its noon the lamp of life declines, Mean was the piece, unelegantly wrought, The colours faint, irregular the draught;

And age my vital flame invades;

Paint, and more faint, as it descends, it shines, But your commanding touch, your nicer art, Rais'd every stroke, and brighten'd every part.

And hastes, alas! to set in shades. So, when Luke drew the rudiments of man,

Then some kind power shall guide my ghost to An angel finish'd what the saint began;

Where, seated by Elysian springs, [glades, His wondrous pencil, dipt in heavenly dyes,

Fam'd Addison attunes to patriot shades Gave beauty to the face, and lightning to the eyes.

His lyre, and Albion's glory sings. Confus'd it lay, a rough unpolish'd mass; There round, majestic shades, and heroes' forms, You gave the royal stamp, and made it pass : Will throng to learn what pilot guides, Hence ev'n Deformity a Beauty grew; [by you; Watchful, Britannia's helm through factious storms, She pleas’d, she charm'd, but pleas'd and charm'd And curbs the murmuring rebel tides. Though, like Prometheus, I the inage frame,

I tell how Townshend treads the glorious path You give the life, and bring the heavenly flame.

That leads the great to deathless fame, Thus when the Nile diffus'd his watery train

And dwell at large on spotless English faith,
In streams of plenty o'er the fruitful plain;

While Walpole is the favourite theme.
Unshapen forms, the refuse of the food,
Issued imperfect from the teeming mud;

How, nobly rising in their country's cause,

The stedfast arbiters of right,
But the great source and parent of the day

Exalt the just and good, to guard her laws,
Fashion'd the creature, and inform'd the clay.
Weak of herself, my Muse forbears her flight,

And call forth Merit into light.
Views her own lowness, and Parnassus' height; A loud applause around the echoing coast

Of all the pleas'd Elysium flies.--
But, friend, what place had you, replies some

When merit was the way to rise? [ghost, * Then let her fate your just attention raise,

What deanery, or prebend, thine, declare?
Whose perfect graces were but second praise. Good Heavens! unable to reply,

How like a stupid idiot I should stare!
ADDITION.

An answer, good my lord, supply.
• To nobler themes thy Muse triumphant soars,
Mounts thro' the tracts of air, and Heaven explores.
Say, has some seraph tun'd thy sacred lyre,
Or deign'd to touch thy hallow'd lips with fire?

ON A MISCHIEVOUS WOMAN.
For sure such sounds exalt th' immortal string,
As Heaven approves, and raptur'd angels sing.

From peace, and social joy, Medusa fies,
Ah! how I listen, while the mortal lay

And loves to hear the storm of anger rise; Lifts me from Earth above the solar way!

Thus hags and witches hate the smiles of day, Ah! how I look with scorn on pompous crowns,

Sport in loud thunder, and in tempests play.
And pity monarchs on their splendid thrones,
While, thou my guide, I trace all Nature's laws,
By just gradations, to the sovereign cause !
Pleas'd I survey how varying schemes unite,

THE COQUETTE.
Worlds with the atoms, angels with the mite,

Sillia, with uncontested sway,
And end in God, high thron'd above all height,

Like Rome's fam'd tyrant reigns ;
Who sees, as Lord of all, with equal eye,
Now a proud tyrant perish, then a fly.

Beholds adoring crowds obey,
Methinks I view the patriarch's ladder rise,

And heroes proud to wear her chains :
Its base on Earth, its summit in the skies :

Yet stoops, like him, to every prize,
Fach wondrous step by glorious angels trod, Busy to murder beaux and flies.
And Heaven unfolding to the throne of God, She aims at every triling heart,
Be this thy praise! I haunt the lovely bower, Attends each flatterer's rows;
Sport by the spring, or paint the blooming flower. And, like a picture drawn with ait,
Nor dares the Muse attempt an arduous height, &c. A look on all that gaze bestows,

VARIATION.

0! may the power who lovers rules,

They wed-but, fancy grown legs warming, Grant rather scorn, than hope with fools.

Next mom, he tbinks the bride less charining: Mistaken nymph! the crowds that gaze

He says, nay swears, My wife grows old in Adore thee into shiaine;

One single month ;" then falls to sculding, Unguarded beauty is disgrace,

What, madam, gadding every day! And coxcombs, when they praise, defame.

Up to your room ! there stitch, or pray!” 0! fly such brutes in human shapes,

Such proves the marriage-state! but for all Nor, like th’ Egyptians, worship apes.

These truths, you'll wed, and scorn the moral.

1

THE WIDOIT AND VIRGIN SISTERS,

ON THE DEATH OP MY DEAR FRIEND,

MR. ELIJAH FENTON.

BEING A LETTER TO THE WIDOW IN LONDON.

1730. HILE Delia shines at Hurlothrumbo,

Calentem And darts her sprightly eye at some beau;

Debitâ sparges lacrymà favillam Then, close behind her fan retiring,

Vatis amici.

Hor.
Sees through the sticks whole crowds admiring:
You sip your melancholy co-ffy,

As when the King of Peace, and Lord of Love,
And at the name of man, cry, n phy!”

Sends down some brighter angel from above, Or, when the noisy rapper thunders,

Pleas'd with the beauties of the heavenly guest, Say coldly-—" Sure the fellow blunders !"

Awhile we view bim in full glory drost; Unseen! though pees on peer approaches :

But he, impatient from his Heaven to stay, James, I'm abroad !--but learn the coaches." Soon disappears, and wings his airy way; As some young pleader, when his purse is

So didst thou vanish, eager to appear, l'nfill'd through want of controversies,

And shine triumphant in thy native sphere. Attends, until the chinks are fill'd all,

Yet had'st thou all that Virtue can bestow, Th' assizes, Westminster, and Guildhall:

All, the good practise, and the learned know;
While graver lawyers keep their house, and Such holy rapture, as not warms, but fires,
Collect the guineas by the thousand :

While the soul secins retiring, or retiri's;
Or as some tradesinen, through show-glasses, Such transports as those saints in vision share,
Fxpose their wares to each that passes ;

Who know not whether they are rapt through air,
Toys of no use! high-priz'd commodities

Or bring down Heaven to meet them in a prayer. Bought to no end ! estates in odditics !

Oh! early lost! yet stedfast to survey Others, with like advantage, drive at

Envy, Disease, and Death, without dismay; Their gain, from store-houses in private:

Serene, the sting of pain 8 thy thoughts beguile, Thus Delia shines in places general,

And make affictions, objects of a sinile. Is never missing where the men are all;

So the fam'd patriarch, on his couch of stone, Goes ev'n to church with godly airs,

Enjoy'd bright visions froin th' eternal throne. To meet good company at prayers;

Thus wean' from Earth, where Pleasure scarce. Where she devoutly plays his fan,

can please, Looks up to Heaven, but thinks on man.

Thy woes but hasten'd thee to Heaven and peace: You sit at home; enjoy your cousin',

As angry winds, when loud the tempest roars, While hearts are offer'd by the dozen :

More swiftly speed the vessel to the shores.
Oh! born above your sex to rise,

Oh! nay these lays a lasting lustre shed
With youth, wealth, beauty, titles--wise ! O'er thy dark urn, like lamps that grace the dead I

O! lady bright, did ne'er you mark yet, Strong were thy thoughts, yet Reason bore the sway;
In country fair, or country market,

Humble, yet learn'd; though innocent, yet gay: A beau, whose eloquence might charm ye,

So pure of licart, that thou might'st safely show Enlisting soldiers for the ariny?

Thy innost bosomn to thy bascst foe: He flattı rs every well-built youth,

Caroless of wealth, thy bliss a calm retreat,
And teils him every thing but--truth.

Far from the insults of the scornful great ;
He cries, “ Good friend, I'm glad I hap'd in Thence looking with disclain on proudest things
Your company, you 'll make a captain !”

Thou deeined'st moan the pageantry of kings;
He lists--but finds these gaudy shows

Who build their pride on trappings of a thronc,
Soon chang'd to surly looks, and blows:

A painted ribband, or a glitt ring stone,
March, rascal! what, d' ye grumble?” Uselessly bright! 'Twas thine the soul to raiso
Thuack goes the cane! “ I'll make you humble." To nobler objects, such as angel's praise !
Such wcddings are: and I resemble 'ern,

To live, to inortals' empty faine, a foe;
Almost in all points, to this emblem.

And pity human joy, and human woe!
While courtship lasts, 'tis, “ Dear,”'tis, " Madam! To view ev'n splendid Vice with generous hate;
The sweetest creature sure since Adam!

In life unblemish'd, and in death sedate!
Had I the years of a Methusalem,

Then Couscience, shining with a lenient ray, How in my charmer's praise I'd use all 'em ! Dawn'd o'er thy soul, and promis'd endless day. Oh! take me to thy arms, my beauty!

So from the sctting orb of Phæbus fly, doat, adore the very shoe-tye!"

Bcams of calm light, and glitter to the skye

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Where now, oh! where shall I true friendship find | And fearless marks the comet's dreadful blaze,
Among the treacherous race of base mankind While monarchs quake, and trembling nations gazel
Whom, whom consult in all th' uncertain ways Or holds deep converse with the mighty dead,
Of various life, sincere to blame, or praise ! Champions of Virtue, who for Virtue bled ?
0! friend! 0! falling in thy strength of years, Or joins in concert with angelic choirs,
Warm from the melting soul receive these tears! Where hymning seraphs sound their golden lyres,
0! Woods! O! Wilds! O! every bowery Shade! Where raptur'd sain's unfading crowns inwreath,
So often vocal by his music male,

Triumphant o'er the World, o'er Sin, and Death?
Now other sounds far other sounds return, 0! may the thought his friend's d votion raise !
And o'er his hearse with all your Fchoes mourn !--/0! may he imitate, as well as praise!
Yet dare we grieve that s on the paths he trod Awake, my heavy soul! and npward Ay,
To Heaven, and left vain man for saints an. God? Sp«ak to the saint, and meet him in the sky,
Tbus in the theatre the scenes unfold

And ask the certain way to rise as high.
A thousand wonders, glorious to behold;
And here, or there, as the machine extends,
A hero rises, or a god descends :
But soon the momentary pleasure fies,

TO THOMAS MARRIOT, ESQ.
Swift vanishes the god, or hero dies
Where were ye, Muses, by what fountain side,

I pre-ix your name to the following poem, as a What river sporting, when your favourite dy'd?" monument of the long and sincere friendship I He knew by verse to chain the headlong tioods, bare borne you : I am sensible you are too good a Silence loud winds, or charm attentive woods; judge of poetry to approve it ; however, it will be Nor deign'd but to high themes to tune the string, a testimony of my respect: You conferred obligaTo such as Heaven might bear, and angels sing; tions upon me very early in life, alınost as soon Unlike those bards, who, uninform'd to play,

as I was capable of receiving them : May these Grate on their jarring pipi's a flashy lay :

verse's on Death long survive iny own! and remain Each line display'd united strength and ease,

a memorial of our friendship, and my gratitude, Form’d, like his manners, to instruct and please.

when I am no more. So herbs of balmy excellence produce

WILLIAM BROOME. A blooming flower and salutary juice : And while each plant a siniling grace reveals, Usefully gay! at once it charms, and heals. Transcend ev'n after death, ye great, in show ;

A POEM ON DEATH. Lend pomp to ashes, and be vain in woe;

Τις οδιδενεί το ζήν μέν έστι κατθανείν, Hire substitutes to mourn with formal cries,

Το κατθανείν δε ζην;

Eurip. And bribe unwilling drops from venal eyes ; While here sincerity of grief appears,

Oh! for Elijah's car, to wing my way Silence that speaks, and Eloquence in tears ! O’er the dark guiph of Death to endless day! While, tir'd of life, we but consent to live A thousand ways, alas! frail mortals lead To show the world how really we grieve !

To her dire den, and dreadful all to tread ! As some fond sire, whose only son lies dead,

See! in the horrours of yon bouse of woes, All lost to comfort makes the dust his bed,

Troops of all maladies the fiend enclose ! Hangs o'er his urn, with frantic grief deplores, High on a trophy rais'd of human bones, And bathes his clay-cold cheek with copious showers; Swords, spears, and arrows, and sepulchral stones, Such heart-felt pangs on thy sad bier attend;

In horrid state she reigns ! attendant ills Companion ! brother! all in one-my friend ! Besiege her throne, and when she frowns, she kills! Unless the soul a wound eternal bears,

Thro’ the thick gloom the torch red-gleaming burns Sighs are but air; but common water, tears :

O’er shrouds, and sable palls, and mouldering urns; The proud, relentless, weep in state, and show While flowing stoles, black plumes, and scutcheons Not sorrow, but magnificence of woe.

An idle pomp around the silent dead : (spread Thus in the fountain, from the sculptor's hands, Unaw'd by power, in common heap she fings With imitated life, an image stands;

The scrips of beggars, and the crowns of kings : From rocky entrails, through his stony eyes, Here gales of sighs, instead of breezes, blow, The mimic tears in streams incessant rise :

And streams of tears for ever murmuring flow: Unconscious! while aloft the waters flow,

The mournful yew with solemn horrour waves The gazers' wonder, and a public show.

His baleful branches, saddening even the graves : Ye hallow'd Domes, his frequent visits tell ; Around all obscene loud-screeming fly, Thou Court, where God himself delights to dwell; Clang their black wings, and shriek along the sky : Thou mystic Table, and thou holy Feast,

The ground perverse, tho' bare and barren, breeds How often have ye seen the sacred guest !

All poisons, foes to life, and noxious weeds; How oft his soul with heavenly manna fed! But, blasted frequent by th' unwholesome sky, His faith enliven'd, while his sin lay dead! Dead fall the birds, the very poisons die. While listening angels heard such raptures rise, Fall in the entrance of the dreadful doors, As, when they hymn th’Almighty, charm the skies! Old-age, half vanish'd to a ghost, deplores : Bat where, now where, without the body's aid, Propp'd on his crutch, he drags with many a groan New to the Heavens, subsists thy gentle shade? The load of life, yet dreads to lay it down. Glides it beyond our gross imperfect sky,

There, downward driving an unnumber'd band, Pleas'd, high o'er stars, from world to world, to fly! Intemperance and Disease walk hand in hand :

These, Torment, whirling with remorseless sway ? Mr. Fenton intended to write upon moral subjects. A scourge of iron, lashes on the way.

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