Where bards repose, and godlike patriots smile,
And glorious heroes rest from earthly toil.
While, like the ruin plac'd in view beneath,
The tyrant and oppressor rot in death;
All born of vice devoted to decay,
And hastening like the gliding brook away.

Now leaving with regret the solemn wood,
We by the winding stream our course pursu'd;
Where stands the lonesome grotto sweetly plac'd,
With all the art of sportive Nature grac'd:
Two neighb'ring domes on spiral columns rise,
With shells and min'rals spangl'd to the eyes,
Whence, still directed by the winding stream,
Amus'd, we to the three-arch'd building came.
Hence, west, the church adorns th' opening height,
Eastward, the spacious pond relieves the sight;
In which, of form Chinese, a structure lies,
Where all her wild grotesques display surprise,
Within Japan her glitt'ring treasure yields,
And ships of amber sail on golden fields.
In radiant clouds are silver turrets form'd,
And mimic glories glitter all around.

Soon tir'd of these, the river next we cross'd, To scenes 14 where Fancy is in wonder lost; Such were th' Elysian fields describ'd of old By raptur'd bards, who blest the age of gold; Such gay romantic prospects rise around, With such profusion smiles the flow'ry ground. So steals th' ambrosial pleasure on the mind, We think 'tis Heav'n-and leave the world behind. So shine with native pomp the realms of light, So pure the ether, and the scenes so bright. Hail, sacred spot! May no unhallow'd tread Profane thy beauties, or thy sweets invade. Hence all ye slaves of vice and pow'r away; Here none approach, but who are fit to stay. See where the guardian of these blissful seats, Discerning Hermes, on the assembly waits! And ranks to fame each British worthy known, Who here distinguish'd, finds a just renown! Those happy kings who Flatt'ry's voice disdain'd, Who in their subjects' hearts with glory reign'd; Patriots who for their country joy'd to bleed, Or statesmen who the public weal decreed: Poets who scorn'd the Muses to profane, Nor courted vice, nor wrote for sordid gain: Or those by arts of use to human kind, Who toil'd to leave a worthy name behind, Names that for Virtue's godlike ends were born, To bless, to save, to counsel, to adorn. Serene in justice, and in goodness great, Here Alfred shines the founder of the state! Here Edward smiles, as when the world's delight, In peace belov'd, and dreadful in the fight, Here stands Eliza, empress of the main, Who Europe freed, and humbled haughty Spain. William, whose sword his native land reliev'd, And Britain from impending fate retriev'd. Here Raleigh lives, the man who greatly fell, For speaking truly-and for acting well. And Drake who first with naval glory crown'd, Bore Britain's fame the spacious globe around! With Hampden firm assertor of her laws, And proto-martyr in the glorious canse. There Gresham does his true encomium claim, And points the inerchants' honourable name : There Jones, great architect! who taught our isle With Greek and Roman elegance to smile:

14 The decorated part called the Elysian fields.

Milton, whose genius, like his subject high,
Gave him beyond material bounds to fly!
And manly Shakspeare, whose extensive mind
Could fathom all the passions of mankind!
There Newton lives, whose sight was form'd to trace
Deep Nature's laws, and clear her mystic face.
And Bacon, first who left the jangling schools
To fix philosophy on certain rules.

With Locke, who, showing truth in reason's light,
Taught the instructed mind to judge aright.

Two living worthies 15 here distinguish'd breathe, And taste of spotless fame before their death; By no inscription is their merit shown, Their names suffice to eternize the stone. For Barnard's virtue scorns all borrow'd rays, And Pope's exalted merit baffles praise.

Now passing onward from th' Elysian ground, An enigmatic monument we found; Sacred to honest Fido's 16 blameless name, A foreigner of no ignoble fame:

Much art is shown his virtues to commend; "A tender husband, and a faithful friend; No bigot-Nature was his constant rule, And though conversant with the great-no fool." Think this no flatt'ry, though so much in vogue, 'Tis real truth-for Fido-was a dog.

To Freedom's Shrine, across the level field, Still circling to the night our course we held: Plac'd on the summit's lofty brow it stands, And all the wide extended view commands. Descending hence, new objects meet the eyes; Spread to the left a long plantation lies; While from the right two winding rivers bend, And to the opening Bason smooth descend. Here the Palladian Bridge, observed before At distance, pleas'd we nearer now explore; Where are choice busts antique and modern seen, "And the glad world pays homage to the queen.' Now to th' Imperial Cabinet we come, Of cubic form the bright historic room, Where monarchs wholesome counsel may receive, Since Cæsars the instructive lesson give; "There Titus' motto tells he mourn'd the day In which his goodness shed no friendly ray! The delegated sword of Trajan shows, Himself not spar'd, if rank'd with virtue's foes: There mild Aurelius, friend of human kind, Conveys this maxim from his generous mind; If rais'd to regal pow'r, such mandates give, As, chang'd, you would a private man receive." Lessons like these humanity impart, And bend to mercy ev'n the tyrant's heart.

Now through a stately gate we take our way, And the surprising terrours pleas'd survey: Stretch'd to the eye the lineal walk extends, And bounded by the Shrine of Venus ends: Here Friendship's Temple strikes the ravish'd sight, With finish'd symmetry and graceful height; Manly as is the theme it means to grace, The lofty square &splays its Doric face, For Cobham this devoted frame intends For Virtue's fav'rites and for Britain's friends '7,

15 The busts of sir John Barnard and Pope. 16 Signor 1:do, an Italian dog.

The prince of Wales, earls of Westmoreland, Chesterfield, and Marchmont; lords Cobham, Gower, and Bathurst; Richard Grenville, Pitt, and Lyttelton,

His worth recorded on the lasting stone:
Not greater honour could the Roman boast,
When godlike Scipio wept his Terence lost.

Now by the Octagon our course we hold,
Where laughing Satyrs beauty's queen behold:
While the gay goddess, careless of their smile,
Spreads ev'ry charm industrious to beguile.
And now the sweet delightful circuit done,
Our progress ended where it first begun.

Thus has the Muse with feeble wing essay'd
To paint the wonders of th' enchanted shade;
And, fond the charms of Nature to explore,
Rov'd, like the studious bee, from flow'r to flow'r;
Stopp'd by each pleasing object she could meet,
To sip some fragrance, or collect some sweet.
But as where Britain's fair assembled shine,
The rays of beauty spread a light divine:

So here where Nature does her triumphs show,
And with majestic hand adorns a Stowe ;
Description fails-all fancy is too mean,
They only can conceive it, who have seen.

JOB.

CHAPTER III.

THUS Job began-" Curst be the fatal morn In which distinguish'd wretchedness was born. From the fair round of the revolving year Perish that day! nor let the night appear In which this speck of entity began To swell to misery, and promise mau! Let darkness stain it o'er, no friendly ray Pierce through the gloom of that disastrous day! But shades of terrour o'er its circuit spread, And fold it in the mantle of the dead. O'er that curst night may double horrours dwell, Such as enwrap the punishments of Hell. No cheerful sounds its solitude awake, But such as fiends and tortur'd wretches make; Such as may wound the soul and shock the air, The groans of death, and howlings of despair. May all its stars with rays diminish'd show, And through the dusky air obscurely glow. No glimpse of hope the dreadful scene adorn, Nor let it see the promise of a mʊrn— Because it shut not up my mother's womb, And join'd at once my cradle and my tomb: Why dy'd I not? Why did preventive care My destin'd life for future sorrows spare? Then had I found that ease I seek in vain, Nor known this load of unexampled pain." "O grave! thou refuge of the soul distress'd, When shall I sink into thy downy rest? There kings and mighty ones neglected rot, In their own mouldering monuments forgot: (Though once of grandeur and of pow'r possest, And all the treasures of the shining east:) There men no longer vain distinctions boast, In common dust the prince and slave are lost: Low lies th' oppressor bound in lasting chains, There of his rod the wretch no more complains! There cease the wailings of the heart distress'd, And there the weary find eternal rest.”

"Why sparest thou, O Lord, a life like mine? While with incessant pray'rs for death I pine: Why is that blessing giv'n to wealth and pride, But to the wretch distress'd like me, deny'd.

Beset my path, and mingle with my food.
In vain my cries and groans continual rise,
In vain my tears I pour and waste my sighs:
While all my fears upon my soul are come,
By thee forsaken, hopeless and undone."

ANNIVERSARY ODE

SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF A DAUGHTER WHO DIED IN 1726.

BEGIN my Muse, and strike the lyre,
Let grief the melting tones inspire,
And sadly consecrate the day,
That snatch'd my soul's delight away.

When first the beauteous infant maid
The early seeds of sense display'd,
With her dear prattle sooth'd my cares,
And charm'd my fond transported ears,
How did her op'ning bloom arise!
And as it struck my ravish'd eyes,
Oft promis'd to my years' increase,
A store of innocence and peace.

But soon, too soon, those flatt'ring joys
Fate's interposing hand destroys:
And, lost in Death's all gloomy shade,
The dear delusive vision fled.

So does the early budding rose
Its blushing fragrancy disclose,
Allure the touch, and smell, and sight,
And yield each sense a soft delight.

Till some rash foe its pride invade,
And ravish'd from its native bed,
Its odour and its huc decay,
And all its beauties fade away.

Thus were my dreams of comfort crost,
And with the fav'rite virgin lost;
And all my schemes of bliss to come
Enclos'd within her early tomb!

Thence clouds of new afflictions rise,
And, brooding o'er the darken'd skies,
With their sad melancholy shade,
The horizon of life o'erspread.

While o'er the young Sabina's urn
Thus with paternal grief I mourn;
Around my soul new sorrows break,
And leave my woes no room to speak.
On Atticus' delightful age

Fate next employ'd her cruel rage;
With ease dissolv'd life's feeble chain,
And freed the suff'ring saint from pain

O ever honour'd sacred name!
If in the bright immortal train
One thought of Earth can touch thy rest,
Look down on this afflicted breast.

Teach me, like thee, through life to steer,
Patient and calm my lot to bear;
Teach me thy heav'nly steps to trace,
And reach, like thee, the realins of peace.

Here no invading noise the goddess finds,

High as she sits o'er the surrounding deep; But pleas'd she listens to the hollow winds, Or the shrill mew, that lulls her evening-sleep; Deep in a cleft-worn rock we found her laid,

Spangl'd the roof with many an artless gem: Slowly she rose, and met us in the shade,

As half disturb'd that such intrusion came: But at her sister's sight with look discreet, She better welcome gave, and pointed each a seat.

Wide from her grotto to the dazzled eye,

A boundless prospect! lay the azure waste, Lost in the sightless limit sea and sky;

By measurable distance faintly trac'd: Whence now arising from his wat`ry bed,

The Sun emerging spread his golden ray; When sweetly Patience rais'd her pensive head, And thus the goddess said, or seem'd to say: Mark, mortal, with attention's deepest care, The swift approaching scene the hands of Heaven prepare."

With look intent, across the shining void, (An object to the weak beholder lost!) Just in the horizon a sail I spied,

As if she made some long-expected coast: Kind to her wishes blew the western breeze, As, swift advancing o'er the placid main, She shap'd her course, increasing by degrees, Till nearer sense made all her beauties plain; And show'd her on the yielding billows ride, In all the gallant trim of ornamental pride!

Thus flew she onward with expanded sail,
A sight delightful to the pleasur'd eye!
Borne on the wings of the propitious gale,
Heedless, alas! of hidden danger nigh:
The joyful sailor, long on ocean tost,

Already thought his tedious suff'rings o'er;
Already hail'd the hospitable coast,

And trod in thought along the friendly shore: When, dreadful to behold!-disastrous shock 6! Shipwreck'd, at once she struck on a wave-cover'd rock!

O Heaven!-it was a piteous sight to view
The wild confusion suddenly took place!
The different gestures of the frighted crew!
The fear that mark'd each death-distracted
face.

All one impassion'd scene of woe appear'd,
Some wildly rav'd, while others scarce could
speak.

No order was observ'd, no reason heard,

For mortal paleness sate on every cheek! I look'd at Patience!- -as she sate me nigh, And wonder'd, as I look'd, to see her tearless eye!

Again I turn'd-when, o'er the vessel's side,

Distinct I saw a manly youth appear, Lanch the oar'd pinnace to the swelling tide, Nor show'd his steady brow a guilty fear!

The pronunciation rather of a sailor, than of a scholar. D.

6 This fatal accident happened near the island of North Ronalsha, the northernmost of the Orkney isles. B.

The sad remainder with a mournful hail

His just design and bold departure blest; With lifted eye he spread the slender sail,

As if he trusted Heaven to guide the rest: Swift o'er the main the bark retreating flew, And the tall ship at once was taken from my view. Immediate Patience from her seat arose,

And all abrupt the transient visit broke; While Silence, pleas'd, return'd to her repose, With air compos'd, for never word she spoke: Again cloud-wafted we pursu'd our way

Westward, as gave the alter'd wind to ride, When thus, methought, I heard the goddess say, ""Tis mine to wait yon boat that braves the For well, alas! too well I now foresee, [tide, Much need yon voyagers will quickly have for me."

Driven on the pinions of the eastern wind O'er many a seagirt isle, and rocky coast, We left bleak Shetland's 7 shadowy hills behind, To watch the little bark in ocean tost: For now from sight of land diverted clear, They drove uncertain o'er the pathless deep, Nor gave the adverse gale due course to steer, Nor durst they the design'd direction keep: The gathering tempest quickly rag'd so high, The wave-encompass'd boat but faintly reach'd my eye.

Yet could I mark, amidst the noisy waste,
The peaceful exit blameless Virtue gave;
Calin sate the youth in the loud threat'ning blast,
And firm prepar'd him for his wat'ry grave!
One fond regard, his latest debt, he paid,

Eastward, to Caledonia's native shore; And thus (methought) in dying accents said, "Farewell my country !"-he could say no

more,

For the wild surge with rage devouring spread, And whelm'd the hapless youth in Ocean's liquid bed.

Then Patience meek, as from my rending heart She heard deep-utter'd the expressive sighs, "Seest thou," she said, "that youth's undaunted part,

Who yonder ev'n in death unvanquish'd lies? There view the blest effects from virtue flow,

The cow'rd from Fate to shameful safety flies; The truly valiant dares to meet the foe,

Nor shrinks from danger, but with honour dies: For guilt of all defence disarms the slave, [brave.” But innocence in death supports the good and

"Yet, ere yon setting Sun his light renew,

Shalt thou behold the decent honours paid To the pale corse now floating in thy view, And see it in the earth lamented laid; For though he dies from each expecting friend, Whose vows were offer'd for his safe return; The mournful stranger o'er his grave shall bend, The blushing virgins weep around his urn! Such privilege his spotless truth shall boast, Though to your distant world in dark oblivion lost!"

7 The pinnace was probably driven into the great ocean that lies to the westward of the istes of Orkney and Shetland, where it perished. B.

The tempest ceas'd-and all the sober night
Intent our course aërial we pursu'd;
Till as Aurora dawn'd with ruddy light,

An island we perceiv'd that stemm'd the flood; No hills, nor trees adorn'd the level soil, [found; Where bleating flocks a plenteous herbage Low lay the prospect of the bleating isle 8,

With here and there a spot of tillage-ground: By which the humble village stood descry'd, Where never enter'd arts, or luxury, or pride!

O'er many a sea-green holm we wafted went, Where undisturb'd the feather'd nations lay! Till lighting on the plain with soft descent,

We saw a reverend form advance our way; And now approaching with an easy pace,

The venerable sage before us stands, White were his hairs, and cheerful was his face, At once delights his aspect and commands: I felt all care suspended at his view, Whom better far than I his kindred goddess knew.

Of homespun russet was the garb he bore,
Girt with a velvet seal's divided skin;
Of woollen yarn the mittens which he wore
To keep him from the breath of Boreas thin:
An easy path along the verdant ground

Soon to his hospitable cottage led,
Ere yet instructed I my errour found,

Nor knew the cause my first emotion bred, Till, as into his clean abode we went 9, [Content. Kind Patience whisper'd me our host was call'd

Sweet was his earthen floor with rushes spread, Sweet was each shell-wrought bowl, and wooden dish,

Sweet was the quilt compos'd his healthy bed,

Nor wanted he for fowl, or sun-dry'd fish ; And milk of sheep, and turf, a plenteous store, Which lay beneath his comfortable roof; No storms, no accidents, could make him poor, He and his house, I ween, were weather-proof. A batchelor he wonde, devoid of care, Which made him now appear so healthy and so fair.

B.