Eupolis. But do you really think that those faults are inseparable from poetry? May not the ONE SUPREME be sung, without any intermixture of them? Plato. I must own I hardly ever saw any thing of that nature. But I shall be glad to see you, or any other, attempt and succeed in it. On that condition, I will gladly exempt you from the fate of your brother poets. Eupolis. I am far from pretending to be a standard. But I will do the best I can. THE HYMN. AUTHOR of Being, Source of light, Essence that can never fail, Grecian or Barbaric name, Thy stedfast being still the same. Thee, when morning greets the skies Yonder azure vault on high, Yonder blue low liquid sky, Earth, on its firm basis plac'd, And with circling waves embrac'd, All creating pow'r confess, All their mighty Maker bless. Thou shak'st all nature with thy nod, Yet Yet does thy pow'rful hand sustain Both earth and heav'n, both firm and main. The bliss, the joy, the rapture there. (For thee their silver harps are strung) Ever beauteous, ever young, Angelie forms their voices raise, And through heav'n's arch resound thy praise. The feather'd fowls that swim the air, And bathe in liquid ether there, Source of light, thou bid'st the sun So smooth his course, oblique or straight, As the queen of solemn night Imparted O ye nurses of soft dreams, Sound his praise by whom you rose, That sea which neither ebbs nor flows. O ye • This word signifies a kind of garland composed of a branch of olive, wrapt about with wool, and loaded with all kinds of fruits of the earth, as a token of peace and plenty. The poet says he will no more worship. the imaginary power, supposed to be the giver of these things; but the great Pan, the creator from whom they all proceed. O ye immortal woods and groves, For thought and friendly converse made, Whose shrine is shaded from the skies, Omen, monster, prodigy, Famine, plague, or wasteful war. Laugh ye prophane, who dare despise Undismay'd is still prepar'd : Life or death, his mind's at rest, Since what thou send'st must needs be best. No evil can from thee proceed: 'Tis only suffer'd, not decreed. Nor mount the shades till he is gone: Can we forget thy guardian care, Thou Thou brak'st the haughty Persian's pride, O ye blest Greeks who there expir'd, To secure your endless praise? And yet a greater hero far Of Jove and thee we are the care. O Father, King, whose heav'n'y face Every good judge, we apprehend, will readily allow that the author of these verses did not want talents for poetry. But wherever we fix his standing in the scale. of learning and abilities, he still rises higher in our view of genuine piety, and a firm attachment to justice, mercy and truth, in various trying situations in life. His integrity was conspicuous, and his conduct uniform. As he had chosen God and his service for his own portion, he chose the same for his children also. When two of his sons were pursuing a course of piety at Oxford, which threw their future prospects of preferment |