And, nobly conscious princes are but things
Born for first ministers, as slaves for kings,
Tyrant supreme! shall three estates command,
And MAKE ONE MIGHTY DUNCIAD OF THE LAND!
More she had spoke, but yawn'd-all nature nods:
What mortal can resist the yawn of gods?
Churches and chapels instantly it reach'd;
(St. James's first, for leaden Gilbert preach'd)
Then catch'd the schools; the hall scarce kept awake;
The convocation gaped, but could not speak:
Lost was the nation's sense, nor could be found,
While the long solemn unison went round:
Wide, and more wide, it spread o'er all the realm:
Even Palinurus nodded at the helm:
The vapour mild o'er each committee crept;
Unfinish'd treaties in each office slept ;
And chiefless armies dozed out the campaign;
And navies yawn'd for orders on the main.
O Muse! relate (for you can tell alone,
Wits have short memories', and dunces none)
Relate who first, who last resign'd to rest;
Whose heads she partly, whose completely blest
What charms could faction, what ambition lull,
The venal quiet, and entrance the dull;
'Till drown'd was sense, and shame, and right, and wrong,— sing, and hush the nations with thy song!
In vain, in vain,-the all-composing hour
Resistless falls: the Muse obeys the power.
She comes! she comes! the sable throne behold
Of Night primeval, and of Chaos old!
Before her, Fancy's gilded clouds decay,
And all its varying rainbows die away.
Dr. Gilbert, Archbishop of York.
This seems to be the reason why the poets, whenever they give us a catalogue, constantly call for help on the Muses, who, as the daughters of Memory, are obliged not to forget anything. So Homer, Iliad ii.
Πληθὺν δ' οὐκ ἂν ἐγὼ μυθήσομαι, οὐδ ̓ ὀνομήνω,
Εἰ μὴ Ὀλυμπιάδες Μοῦσαι, Διός αιγιόχοιο
Θυγατέρες, μνησαίαθ'-
Et meministis enim Divæ, et memorare potestis:
Ad nos vix tenuis famæ perlabitur aura.
Wit shoots in vain its momentary fires,
The meteor drops, and in a flash expires.
As one by one, at dread Medea's strain,
The sickening stars fade off the ethereal plain;
As Argus' eyes by Hermes' wand opprest,
Closed one by one to everlasting rest;
Thus at her felt approach, and secret might,
Art after art goes out, and all is night.
See skulking Truth to her old cavern fled,
Mountains of casuistry heap'd o'er her head!
Philosophy, that lean'd on Heaven before,
Shrinks to her second cause, and is no more.
Physic of Metaphysic begs defence,
And Metaphysic calls for aid on Sense!
See Mystery to Mathematics fly!
In vain! they gaze, turn giddy, rave, and die.
Religion blushing veils her sacred fires,
And unawares Morality expires.
Nor public flame, nor private, dares to shine
Nor human spark is left, nor glimpse divine!
Lo! thy dread empire, CHAOS! is restored;
Light dies before thy uncreating word:
Thy hand, great Anarch! lets the curtain fall;
And universal darkness buries all.
BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.
Note-After the word "plerumque," read "alioqui nee scri
Note b, for "quod," read "quæ."
Page 54, line 15, for "duly," read "dully."
Page 71, Note ", for "faciant," read "facient."
Page 80. Insert Note:-The name of the unfortunate lady, the subject of this Elegy, was Wainsbury. She was ill-shaped and deformed as the poet himself, and was said to have been driven to the act he deplores by the violence and cruelty of her uncle and guardians, who forced her to enter a convent abroad. She did not die by a sword, but hanged herself. Page 161, for "habitas," read "habites."
Page 203, line 16 from bottom, for "that," read "than."
Page 209, for "lassis," read "lassas."
Page 212, line 8. Insert Note:-The Czarina, the King of France, the Pope, and the above-mentioned King of Sardinia.
Wit shoots in vain its momentary fires,
The meteor drops, and in a flash expires.
As one by one, at dread Medea's strain,
The sickening stars fade off the ethereal plain ;
As Argus' eyes by Hermes' wand opprest,
Closed one by one to everlasting rest;
Thus at her felt approach, and secret might,
Sest after ant goes out and all is night.
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