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Admiring, terrified, the novel strain,
The man to solitude accustom'd long, Perceives in ev'ry thing that lives a tongue; Not animals alone, but shrubs and trees, Have speech for him, and understood with ease; After long drought, when rains abundant fall, He hears the herbs and flow'rs rejoicing all ; Knows what the freshness of their hue implies, How glad they catch the largess of the skies; But, with precision nicer still, the mind He scans of ev'ry locomotive kind; Birds of all feather, beasts of ev'ry name, T'hat serve mankind, or shun them, wild or tame : The looks and gestures of their griefs and fears Have all articulation in his ears ; He spells them true by intuition's light, And needs no glossary to set him right.
This truth premis'd was needful as a text, To win due credence to what follows next.
Awhile they mus'd; surveying ev'ry face, Thou hadst suppos’d them of superior race ; Their periwigs of wool, and fears combin'd, Stamp'd on each countenance such marks of mind. That sage they seem'd, as lawyers o'er a doubt, Which, puzzling long, at last they puzzle out;
Or academic tutors, teaching youths,
Friends! we have liv'd too long. I never heard
Him answer'd then his loving mate and true, But more discreet than he, a Cambrian ewe.
How ? leap into the pit our life to save ? To save our life leap all into the grave ? Vol. XXXVII.
For can we find it less ? Contemplate first
While thus she spake, I fainter heard the peals, For Reynard, close attended at his heels By panting dog, tir'd man, and spatter'd horse, Through mere good fortune, took a diff'rent course. The flock grew calm again, and I, the road Foll’wing, that led me to my own abode, Much wonder'd that the silly sheep had found Such cause of terror in an empty sound, So sweet to huntsman, gentleman, and hound.
Beware of desp'rate steps. The darkest day,
1. When the British warrior queen,
Bleeding from the Roman rods, Sought, with an indignant mien,
Counsel of her country's gods,
Sat the Druid, hoary chief;
Full of rage, and full of grief.
III. Princess ! if our aged eyes
Weep upon thy matchless wrongs, 'Tis because resentment ties
All the terrors of our tongues.
IV. Rome shall perish-write that word
In the blood that she has spilt ;
Perish, hopeless and abhorrd,
Deep in the ruin as in guilt.
Tramples on a thousand states;
Hark! the Gaul is at her gates !
VI. Other Romans shall arise,
Heedless of a soldier's name; Sounds, not arms, shall win the prize,
Harmony the path to fame.
From the forest of our land,
Shall a wider world command.
VIII. Regions Cæsar never knew
Thy posterity shall sway ; Where his eagles never flew,
None invincible as they.
Pregnant with celestial fire,
Of his sweet but awful lyre.