Or when, by Cicero taught to flow, Strong and unfetter'd rolls the nervous line, To feel his passions, catch the genuine glow, His conquering warmth, and energy divine.

But whilst elate the youthful bands

Each beauty of past ages share,
Her wonted victims life demands,

And points to more substantial care ; Severer studies then engage The seasons of maturer age, To fill with honour and with ease, The several stations Heav'n decrees. -Yon sprightly train, who erst were joy'd To trace each herb of varied hue, That decks the mountain's vernal side; And Nature's bashful steps pursue; Ere long improv'd by studious toil, Shall sooth the frame by fell disease oppress'd, Bid brightening Health diffuse her wonted smile, And give to Friendship's vow the kindred breast.

Yon few- 7-as yet unknown to strife-
Whom Tully's liberal spirit charms,
-Foes to the silent paths of life,

The thirst of elocution warms;
Theirs be the task, to mark with awe
The mighty edifice of law;
And having caught the general view,
Trace every varied chamber through:
And may they scorn the vulgar tribe,

Who sense for formal gingle slight;
Superior to the guilty bribe,

With learning grave, with wit polite:
YOL. III.

2*

By Blackstone's bright example taught, Watch o'er each private right with generous fear; And with th' unconquer'd love of freedom fraught, Preserve those claims to every Briton dear.

Yet nobler paths for some remain,-
By hallow'd footsteps only trod;
And these shall seek the sacred fane,

And give their studious hours to God.
Hark! while th' inspiring diction flows,
Each breast with holy rapture glows;
See trembling Guilt betrays his fears,
See sad Repentance pours her tears,
Till from her starry mansions charm'd,

The smiling cherub Peace descends,
And o'er the soul with doubts alarm'd,

Her guardian wings unseen extends. Whilst those, attentive to the cause Of Britain, shall to her devote their days; In the full senate meet unbought applause, And place their glory in their country's praise.

Exulting Science now disdains

The ties of Custom's proud controul,

And breaks the rude and barbarous chains
That fetter'd down the freeborn soul;
Extinguish'd now her vengeful fires,
Lo! Superstition slow retires;

Or from some cloister's mouldering fane,
Pours out her mutter'd curse in vain :
Whilst the warm breast, with generous joy,
Embraces all of human kind;

And scorns each mean and narrower tie,
To climate and to sect confin'd:

Deaf to the bigot's frantic voice, Conducts each dubious step by Reason's plan, To her unerring rule conforms its choice, Nor tamely yields the sacred rights of man.

O ye! whom Science chose to guide
Her unpolluted stream along,
Adorn with flowers its cultur'd side,

And to its taste allure the young;
O say, what language can reveal
Th' exalted pleasures you must feel,
When fir'd by you, the youthful breast
Disdains to court inglorious rest ;
And to the world's admiring gaze,

(Each precept into action brought)
In full reality displays

The liberal maxims you have taught? A transport this, superior far To all the bliss th' exulting conqueror feels, When crowds triumphant hail him from the war, And conquer'd nations crouch beneath his wheels.

Oft as those favour'd haunts among,

Your youthful bard delighted roves,
Attentive to the nobler song

That breathes along the list'ning groves;
He seems to tread on classic ground;
A sacred influence breathes around;
And, whilst he feels its awe divine,

He fondly grasps the vast design.-
-But ah! far weightier cares renew

Their claims, and check the rising strain; Again he joins life's general crew,

The dull, the giddy, and the vain:

Thus echoing through the rural bow'rs, Th' imprison'd songster hears each rival lay; Whilst cold restraint represses all his pow'rs, And unapplauded flies his joyless day.

Anonymous.

ON THE USE OF POETRY.

NOT for themselves did human kind
Contrive the parts by Heaven assign'd
On life's wide scene to play:
Not Scipio's force, nor Cæsar's skill
Can conquer Glory's arduous hill,
If Fortune close the way.

Yet still the self-depending soul,
Tho' last and least in Fortune's roll,
His proper sphere commands;
And knows what Nature's seal bestow'd,
And sees, before the throne of God,
The rank in which he stands.

Who train'd by laws the future age,
Who rescued nations from the rage
Of partial, factious power,
My heart with distant homage views;
Content if thou, celestial Muse,
Didst rule my natal hour.

Not far beneath the hero's feet,
Nor from the legislator's seat

Stands far remote the bard;

Though not with public terrors crown'd,
Yet wider shall his rule be found,
More lasting his award.

Lycurgus fashion'd Sparta's fame,
And Pompey to the Roman name
Gave universal sway:

Where are they?-Homer's reverend page
Holds empire to the thirtieth age,
And tongues and climes obey.

And thus when William's acts divine
No longer shall from Bourbon's line
Draw one vindictive vow;
When Sidney shall with Cato rest,
And Russel move the patriot's breast
No more than Brutus now;

Yet then shall Shakspeare's powerful art
O'er every passion, every heart,
Confirm his awful throne:
Tyrants shall bow before his laws;
And Freedom's, Glory's, Virtue's cause,
Their dread assertor own.

Akenside.

TO TRUTH.

SAY, will no white-rob'd Son of Light,
Swift-darting from his heav'nly height,

Here deign to take his hallow'd stand;
Here wave his amber locks; unfold
His pinions cloth'd with downy gold;
Here smiling stretch his tutelary wand ?