But, bound by social Freedom, firm they rise;
Such as, of late, an Oglethorpe has formed,
And, crowding round, the charmed Savannah sees.
"Horrid with want and misery, no more
Our streets the tender passenger afflict.
Nor shivering age, nor sickness without friend,
Or home, or bed to bear his burning load;
Nor agonizing infant, that ne'er earned
Its guiltless pangs; I see! the stores, profuse,
Which British bounty has to these assigned,
No more the sacrilegious riot swell
Of cannibal devourers! right applied,
No starving wretch the land of freedom stains:
If poor, employment finds; if old, demands,
If sick, if maimed, his miserable due;
And will, if young, repay the fondest care.
Sweet sets the sun of stormy life; and sweet
The morning shines, in Mercy's dews arrayed.
Lo! how they rise! these families of Heaven!
That! chief,1 (but why-ye bigots !-why so late?)
Where blooms and warbles glad a rising age;
What smiles of praise! and, while their song ascends,
The listening seraph lays his lute aside.
Hark, the gay muses raise a nobler strain,
With active nature, warm impassioned truth,
Engaging fable, lucid order, notes
Of various string, and heart-felt image filled.
Behold! I see the dread delightful school
1 The Foundling Hospital.
Of tempered passions, and of polished life,
Restored behold! the well dissembled scene
Calls from embellished eyes the lovely tear,
Or lights up mirth in modest cheeks again.
Lo! vanished monster-land. Lo! driven away
Those that Apollo's sacred walks profane;
Their wild creation scattered, where a world
Unknown to nature, Chaos more confused,
O'er the brute scene its Orang-Outangs pours;
Detested forms! that, on the mind impressed,
Corrupt, confound, and barbarize an age.
"Behold! all thine again the Sister-Arts,
Thy graces they, knit in harmonious dance.
Nursed by the treasure from a nation drained
Their works to purchase, they to nobler rouse
Their untamed genius, their unfettered thought;
Of pompous tyrants, and of dreaming monks,
The gaudy tools, and prisoners, no more.
"Lo! numerous domes a Burlington confess: For kings and senates fit, the palace see! The temple breathing a religious awe; E'en framed with elegance the plain retreat, The private dwelling. Certain in his aim, Taste, never idly working, saves expense.
"See! sylvan scenes, where Art alone pretends To dress her mistress, and disclose her charms; Such as a Pope in miniature has shown;1 A Bathurst o'er the widening forest 2 spreads;
1 At his Twickenham Villa.
2 Okely woods, near Cirencester.
And such as form a Richmond, Chiswick, Stowe.
"August, around, what public works I see! Lo stately streets, lo! squares that court the breeze, In spite of those to whom pertains the care,
Ingulphing more than founded Roman ways.
Lo! rayed from cities o'er the brightened land,
Connecting sea to sea, the solid road.
Lo! the proud arch (no vile exactor's stand)
With easy sweep bestrides the chasing flood.
See! long canals, and deepened rivers join
Each part with each, and with the circling main
The whole enlivened isle. Lo! ports expand,
Free as the winds and waves, their sheltering arms.
Lo streaming comfort o'er the troubled deep,
On every pointed coast the lighthouse towers;
And, by the broad imperious mole repelled,
Hark! how the baffled storm indignant roars."
As thick to view these varied wonders rose,
Shook all my soul with transport, unassured,
The vision broke; and, on my waking eye,
Rushed the still ruins of dejected Rome.
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