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The long-liv'd volume ; and, deep-musing, hail
The sacred shades, that slowly-rising pass
Before my wondering eyes. First Socrates,
Who, firmly good in a corrupted state,
Against the rage of tyrants fingle stood,
Invincible ! calm Reason's holy law,
That Voice of God within th' attentive mind,
Obeying, fearless, or in life, or death :
Great moral teacher? Wifeft of Mankind!
Solon the next, who built his common-weal
On equity's wide base ; by tender laws
A lively people curbing, yet undamp'd
Preserving still that quick peculiar fire,
Whence in the laurel'd field of finer arts,
And of bold freedom, they unequal'd shones
The pride of smiling Greece, and human-kind.
LYCURGUS then, who bow'd beneath the force
Of ftrictest discipline, severely wise,
All human passions. Following him, I see,
As at Thermopyla he glorious fell,

*, who prov'd by deeds
The hardest leffon which the other taught.
Then Aristides lifts his honest front;

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Spotless of heart, to whom th' unflattering voice
Of freedom gave the noblest name of Fuft;
In pure majestic poverty rever'd ;
Who, even his glory to his country's weal
Submitting, swell’d a haughty Rivals * fame.
Rear'd by his care, of softer ray appears
Cimon sweet-foul'd; whose genius, rising strong,
Shook off the load of


debauch ; abroad The scourge of Persian pride, at home the friend Of every worth and every splendid art ; Modest, and simple, in the pomp of wealth. Then the last worthies of declining GREECE, Late callid to glory, in unequal times, Pensive, appear. The fair Corinthian boast, TIMOLEON, happy temper! mild, and firm, Who wept the Brother while the Tyrant bled. And, equal to the bett, the THEBAN PAirt, Whose virtues, in heroic concord join'd, Their country rais'd to freedom, empire, fame. He too, with whom Athenian honour sunk, And left a mass of fordid lecs behind, Procion the Good; in public life severe,



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To virtue still inexorably firm ;
But when, beneath his low illustrious roof,
Sweet peace and happy wisdom smooth'd his brow,
Not friendship softer was, nor love more kind.
And he, the last of old Lycurgus' fons,
The generous vi&tim to that vain attempt,
To fave a rotten State, Agis, who saw
Even SPARTA's self to servile avarice sunk.
The two Achaian heroes close the train.
ARATUS, who a while relum'd the soul
Of fondly lingering liberty in GREECE:
And he her darling as her latest hope,
The gallant PHILOPOEMEN ; who to arms
Turn’d the luxurio'18 pomp he could not cure ;
Or toiling in his farm, a fimple swain ;'
Or, bold and fkilful, thundering in the field.

Of rougher front, a mighty people come !
A race of heroes ! in those virtuous times
Which knew no ftain, save that with partial fame
Their dearest country they too fondly lov'd:
Her better Founder first, the light of Rome,
Numa, who soften'd her rapacious fons :
Servius the King, who laid the folid base
On which o'er earth the vast republic spread.
Then the great consuls venerable rise.

The Public FATHER * who the Private quellid,
As on the dread tribunal fternly fad.
He, whom his thankless country could not lose,
CAMILLUS, only vengeful to her foes.
FABRICIUS, fcorner of all-conquering gold;
And Cincinnatus, awful from the plough.
Thy WILLING Victim t, Carthage, bursting loose
From all that pleading Nature could oppose,
From a whole city's tears, by rigid faith
Imperious call's, and honour's dire command.
Scipio, the gentle chief, humanely brave,
Who foon the race of spotless glory rang
And, warm in youth, to the Poetic bade
With Friendship and Philosophy retir’d.
Tully, whose powerful eloquence a while
Restrain'd the rapid fate of rushing Rome.
Unconquer'a Cato, virtuous in extreme.
And thou, unhappy Brutus, kind of heart,
Whose steady arm, by awful virtue urg'd,
Lifted the Roman Steel against thy Friend.
Thousands besides the tribute of a verse
Demand; but who can count the stars of heaven?
Who sing their influence on this lower world !

* Marcus Junius BRUTUS.


Behold, who yonder comes ! in sober state, Fair, mild, and strong, as is a vernal fun : 'Tis Phæbus' self, or else the Mantuan Swain ! Great Homer too appears, of daring wing, Parent of fong! and equal by his fide, The BRITISH MUSE; join'd hand in hand they walk, Darkling, full up the middle steep to fame. Nor absent are those shades, whose skilful touch Pathetic drew th' impaffion'd heart, and charm'd Transported Athens with the MORAL SCENE: Nor those who, tuneful, wak'd th' enchanting LYRE.

First of your kind! fociety divine ! Still visit thus my nights, for you reserv'd, And mount my foaring foul to thoughts like yours. Silence, thou lonely power! the door be thine ; See on the hallowed hour that none intrude, Save a few chosen friends, who sometimes deign To bless my humble roof, with sense refin'd, , Learning digefted well, exalted faith, Unstudy'd wit, and humour ever gay. Or from the Muses' hill will Pope descend, To raise the sacred hour, to bid it smile, And with the social spirit warm the heart : For tho' not sweeter his own Homer sings, Yet is his life the more endearing fong.


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