Thou life-infusing deity, on thee

I call, and look propititious from on high,
While now to thee I offer up my prayer.
O had great Newton, as he found the cause,
By which sound rolls through th' undulating air,
O had he, baffling Time's resistless power,
Discover'd what that subtle spirit is,
Or whatsoe'er diffusive else is spread
Over the wide extended universe,
Which causes bodies to reflect the light,
And from their straight direction to divert

The rapid beams, that through their surface pierce.
But since embrac'd by th' icy arms of age,
And his quick thought by Time's cold hand congeal'd,
Ev'n Newton left unknown this hidden power:
Thou from the race of human kind select
Some other worthy of an angel's care,
With inspiration animate his breast,
And him instruct in these thy secret laws.
O let not Newton, to whose spacious view,
Now unobstructed, all th' extensive scenes
Of the ethereal Ruler's works arise;
When he beholds this Earth he late adorn'd,
Let him not see Philosophy in tears,
Like a fond mother, solitary sit,
Lamenting him, her dear, and only child.
But as the wise Pythagoras, and he,

Whose birth with pride the fam'd Abdera boasts,
With expectation having long survey'd
This spot, their ancient seat, with joy beheld
Divine Philosophy at length appear
In all her charms majestically fair,
Conducted by immortal Newton's hand:
So may he see another sage arise,

That shall maintain her empire: then no more
Imperious Ignorance with haughty sway
Shall stalk rapacious o'er the ravag'd globe:
Then thou, O Newton, shalt protect these lines,
The humble tribute of the grateful Muse;
Ne'er shall the sacrilegious hand despoil
Her laurell'd temples, whom his name preserves:
And were she equal to the mighty theme,
Futurity should wonder at her song:
Time should receive her with extended arms,
Seat her conspicuous in his rolling car,
And bear her down to his extremest bound.

Fables with wonder tell how Terra's sons
With iron force unloos'd the stubborn nerves
Of hills, and on the cloud-enshrouded top
Of Pelion Ossa pil'd. But if the vast
Gigantic deeds of savage strength demand
Astonishment from men, what then shalt thou,
O what expressive rapture of the soul,
When thou before us, Newton, dost display
The labours of thy great excelling mind;
When thou unveilest all the wondrous scene,
The vast idea of th' eternal King,
Nor dreadful bearing in his angry arm

The thunder hanging o'er our trembling heads;
But with th' effulgency of love replete,

And clad with power, which form'd th' extensive
Heav'ns.

O happy he, whose enterprising hand
Unbars the golden and relucid gates

Of th' empyrean dome, 'where thou enthron'd,
Philosophy, art seated. Thou, sustain'd
By the firm hand of everlasting Truth,
Despisest all the injuries of Time:

Thou never know'st decay when, all around,
Antiquity obscures her head. Behold

Th' Egyptian towers, the Babylonian walls,
And Thebes, with all her hundred gates of brass,
Behold them scatter'd like the dust abroad.
Whatever now is flourishing and proud,
Whatever shall, must know devouring age.
Euphrates' stream, and seven-mouthed Nile,
And Danube, thou that from Germania's soil
To the black Euxine's far remoted shore,
O'er the wide bounds of mighty nations sweep'st
In thunder loud thy rapid floods along.
Ev'n you shall feel inexorable time:

To you the fatal day shall come; no more
Your torrents then shall shake the trembling ground,
No longer then to inundations swoll'n,
Th' imperious waves the fertile pastures drench,
But shrunk within a narrow channel glide;
Or through the year's reiterated course, [streams,
When Time himself grows old, your wondrous
Lost ev'n to memory, shall lie unknown
Beneath obscurity and chaos whelm'd.
But still thou, Sun, illuminatest all
The azure regions round, thou guidest still
The orbits of the planetary spheres ;

The Moon still wanders o'er her changing course,
And still, O Newton, shall thy name survive
As long as Nature's hand directs the world,
When ev'ry dark obstruction shall retire,
And ev'ry secret yield its hidden store,
Which thee dim-sighted age forbade to see,
Age that alone could stay thy rising soul.
And could mankind among the fixed stars,
Ev'n to th' extremest bounds of knowledge reach,
To those unknown, innumerable suns,
Whose light but glimmers from those distant worlds,
Ev'n to those utmost boundaries, those bars
That shut the entrance of th' illumin'd space,
Where angels only tread the vast unknown,
Thou ever shouldst be seen immortal there:
In each new sphere, each new-appearing sun,
In furthest regions at the very verge
Of the wide universe shouldst thou be seen,
And lo! th' all-potent goddess, Nature, takes
With her own hand thy great, thy just reward
Of immortality; aloft in air

See she displays, and with eternal grasp
Uprears the trophies of great Newton's fame.

ADMIRAL HOSIER'S GHOST,

As near Porto-Bello 1lying

On the gently swelling flood,
At midnight with streamers flying,

Our triumphant navy rode;

The case of Hosier, which is here so pathetically represented, was briefly this. In April, 1726, that commander was sent with a strong fleet into the Spanish West Indies, to block up the galleons in the ports of that country, or should they presume to come out, to seize and carry them into England: he accordingly arrived at the Bastimentos near Porto-Bello, but being restricted by his orders from obeying the dictates of his courage, lay inactive on that station until he became the jest of the Spaniards: he afterwards removed to Carthagena, and continued cruizing in these seas, till far the greater part of his men perished deplorably by the diseases of that unhealthy cli

Whence she contemplates with a tranquil mind
Her various wanderings from the fated bour
That she abandon'd her maternal clime;
Neptunian Commerce, whom Phoenice bore,
Illustrious nymph, that nam'd the fertile plains
Along the sounding main extended far,
Which flowery Carmel with its sweet perfumes,
And with its cedars Libanus o'ershades:
Her from the bottom of the watry world,
As once she stood, in radiant beauties grac'd,
To mark the heaving tide, the piercing eye
Of Neptune view'd enamour'd: from the deep
The god ascending rushes to the beach,
And clasps th' affrighted virgin. From that day,
Soon as the paly regent of the night
Nine times her monthly progress had renew'd
Through Heaven's illumin'd vault, Phoenice, led
By shame, once more the sea-worminargin sought:
There pac'd with painful steps the barren sands,
A solitary mourner, and the surge,
Which gently roll'd beside her, now no more
With placid eyes beholding, thus exclaim'd:

"Ye fragrant shrubs and cedars, lofty shade,
Which crown my native hills, ye spreading palms,
That rise majestic on these fruitful meads,
With you, who gave the lost Phoenice birth,
And you, who bear th' endearing name of friends,
Once faithful partners of my chaster hours,
Farewell! To thee, perfidious god, I come,
Bent down with pain and anguish on thy sands,
I come thy suppliant: death is all I crave;
Bid thy devouring waves inwrap my head,
And to the bottom whelm my cares and shame!"
She ceas'd, when sudden from th' enclosing deep
A crystal car emerg'd, with glitt'ring shells,
Cull'd from their oozy beds by Tethys' train,
And blushing coral deck'd, whose ruddy glow
Mix'd with the watry lustre of the pearl.
A smiling band of sea-born nymphs attend,
Who from the shore with gentle hands convey
The fear-subdu'd Phoenice, and along
The lucid chariot place. As there with dread
All mute, and struggling with her painful throes
She lay, the winds by Neptune's high command
Were silent round her; not a zephyr dar'd
To wanton o'er the cedar's branching top.
Nor on the plain the stately palm was seen
To wave its graceful verdure; o'er the main
No undulation broke the smooth expanse,
But all was hush'd and motionless around,
All but the lightly-sliding car, impell'd
Along the level azure by the strength
Of active Tritons, rivaling in speed
The rapid meteor, whose sulphureous train
Glides o'er the brow of darkness, and appears
The livid ruins of a falling star.

Beneath the Lybian skies, a blissful isle,
By Triton's 3 floods encircled, Nysa lay.
Here youthful Nature wanton'd in delights,
And here the guardians of the bounteous horn,
While it was now the infancy of time,
Nor yet th' uncultivated globe had learn'd
To smile, Eucarpé 4, Dapsiléa 5, dwelt,

With all the nymphs, whose sacred care had nurs'd
The eldest Bacchus. From the flow'ry shore
A turf-clad valley opens, and along

3 Triton, a river and lake of ancient Lybia. 4 Fruitfulness.

5 Plenty.

Its verdure mild the willing feet allures;
While on its sloping sides ascends the pride
Of hoary groves, high-arching o'er the vale
With day-rejecting gloom. The solemn shade
Half round a spacious lawn at length expands,
Clos'd by a tow'ring cliff, whose forehead glows
With azure, purple, and ten thousand dyes,
From its resplendent fragments beaming round;
Nor less irradiate colours from beneath
On every side an ample grot reflects,
As down the perforated rock the Sun
Pours his meridian blaze! rever'd abode
Of Nysa's nymphs, with every plant attir'd
That wears undying green, refresh'd with rills
From ever-living fountains, and enrich'd ·
With all Pomona's bloom: unfading flowers
Glow on the mead, and spicy shrubs perfume
With inexhausted sweets the cooling gale,
Which breathes incessant there; while every bird
Of tuneful note his gay or plaintive song
Blends with the warble of meandring streams,
Which o'er their pebbled channels murm'ring lave
The fruit-invested hills that rise around.
The gentle Nereids to this calm recess
Phoenice bear; nor Dapsiléa bland,
Nor good Eucarpė, studious to obey
Great Neptune's will, their hospitable care
Refuse; nor long Lucina is invok'd.
Soon as the wondrous infant sprung to day,
Earth rock'd around; with all their nodding woods,
And streams reverting to their troubled source,
The mountain shook, while Lybia's neighb'ring god,
Mysterious Ammon, from his hollow cell
With deep resounding accent thus to Heaven,
To Earth, and sea, the mighty birth proclaim'd:
"A new-born power behold! whom Fate hath

call'd

The god's imperfect labour to complete
This wide creation. She in lonely sands
Shall bid the tower-encircled city rise,
The barren sea shall people, and the wilds
Of dreary Nature shall with plenty clothe;
She shall enlighten man's unletter'd race,
And with endearing intercourse unite
Remotest nations, scorch'd by sultry suns,
Or freezing near the snow-encrusted pole:
Where'er the joyous vine disdains to grow,
The fruitful olive, or the golden ear;
Her hand divine, with interposing aid
To every climate shall the gifts supply
Of Ceres, Bacchus, and the Athenian maid 7;
The graces, joys, emoluments of life,
From her exhaustless bounty all shall flow."

The heavenly prophet ceas'd. Olympus heard. Straight from their star-bespangled thrones descend On blooming Nysa a celestial band,

The ocean's lord to honour in his child;
When, o'er his offspring smiling, thus began
The trident ruler. "Commerce be thy name:

To thee I give the empire of the main,
From where the morning breathes its eastern gale,
To th' undiscover'd limits of the west,
From chilling Boreas to extremest south
Thy sire's obsequious billows shall extend
Thy universal reign." Minerva next

6 This whole description of the rock and grotte

is taken from Diod. Siculus, lib. 3. p. 202.

7 Minerva, the tutelary goddess of the Athenians, to whom she gave the olive.

[caves

To spread their hoarded blessings round the world;
Who with them bore the inexhausted horn
Of ever-smiling Plenty. Thus adorn'd,
Attended thus, great goddess, thou beganst
Thy all-enlivening progress o'er the globe,
Then rude and joyless, destin'd to repair
The various ills which earliest ages ru'd
From one, like thee, distinguish'd by the gifts
Of Heaven, Pandora, whose pernicious hand
From the dire vase releas'd th' imprison'd woes.
Thou, gracious Commerce, from his cheerless
In horrid rocks and solitary woods,
The helpless wand'rer, man, forlorn and wild,
Didst charm to sweet society; didst cast
The deep foundations, where the future pride
Of mightiest cities rose, and o'er the main
Before the wond'ring Nereids didst present
The surge-dividing keel, and stately mast,
Whose canvass wings, distending with the gale,
The bold Phoenician through Alcides' straits,
To northern Albion's tin-embowel'd fields,
And oft beneath the sea-obscuring brow
Of cloud-envelop'd Teneriff, convey'd.
Next in sagacious thought th' ethereal plains
Thou trodst, exploring each propitious star
The danger-braving mariner to guide;
Then all the latent and mysterious powers
Of number didst unravel: last to crown
Thy bounties, goddess, thy unrival'd toils
For man, still urging thy inventive mind,
Thou gav'st him letters 9; there imparting all,
Which lifts the noble spirit near to Heaven,
Laws, learning, wisdom, Nature's works reveal'd
By godlike sages, all Minerva's arts,
Apollo's music, and th' eternal voice
Of Virtue sounding from the historic roll,
The philosophic page, and poet's song.

Now solitude and silence from the shores
Retreat on pathless mountains to reside,
Barbarity is polish'd, infant arts
Bloom in the desert, and benignant peace
With hospitality begin to soothe
Unsocial rapine, and the thirst of blood;
As from his tumid urn when Nilus spreads
His genial tides abroad, the favour'd soil
That joins his fruitful border, first imbibes
The kindly stream: anon the bounteous god
His waves extends, embracing Egypt round,
Dwells on the teeming champaign, and endows

* Vulcan, the tutelary deity of Lemnos. Here the opinion of sir Isaac Newton is followed, that letters were first invented amongst the trading parts of the world.

The sleeping grain with vigour to attire
In one bright harvest all the Pharian plains:
Thus, when Pygmalion from Phoenician Tyre
Had banish'd freedom, with disdainful steps
Indignant Commerce, turning from the walls
Herself had rais'd, her welcome sway enlarg'd
Among the nations, spreading round the globe
The fruits of all its climes; Cecropian 10 oil,
The Thracian vintage, and Panchaian gums,
Arabia's spices, and the golden grain,
Which old Osiris to his Egypt gave,

And Ceres to Sicania ". Thou didst raise
Th' Ionian name, O Commerce, thou the domes
Of sumptuous Corinth, and the ample round
Of Syracuse didst people.All the wealth
Now thou assemblest from Iberia's mines,
And golden-channel'd Tagus, all the spoils
From fair Trinacria 12 wafted, all the powers
Of conquer'd Afric's tributary realms
To fix thy empire on the Lybian verge,
Thy native tract; the nymphs of Nysa hail
Thy glad return, and echoing joy resounds
O'er Triton's sacred waters, but in vain:
The irreversible decrees of Heaven
To far more northern regions had ordain'd
Thy lasting seat: in vain th' imperial port
Receives the gather'd riches of the world:
In vain whole climates bow beneath its rule;
Behold the toil of centuries to Rome

16

And seas unknown, with thee th' advent'rous sons
Of Tagus pass'd the stormy cape, which braves
The huge Atlantic; what though Antwerp grew
Beneath thy smiles, and thou propitious there
Didst shower thy blessings with unsparing hands;
Still on thy grief-indented heart impress'd
The great Amilcar's valour, still the deeds
Of Asdrubal and Mago, still the loss
Of thy unequal Annibal remain'd:
Till from the sandy mouths of echoing Rhine,
And sounding margin of the Scheld and Maese,
With sudden roar the angry voice of War
Alarm'd thy languor; wonder turn'd thy eye.
Lo! in bright arms a bold militia stood,
Arrang'd for battle: from afar thou saw'st

10 Athenian. Athens was called Cecropia from Cecrops its first king.

11 Sicily.

12 Another name of Sicily, which was frequently ravaged by the Carthaginians.

13 Cadiz.

14 Marseilles, a Grecian colony, the most civilized, as well as the greatest trading city of ancient Gaul.

15 Genoa.

16 The Portuguese discovered the Cape of Good Hope in 1487.

The snowy ridge of Appenine, the fields
Of wild Calabria, and Pyrene's hills,
The Guadiana, and the Duro's banks,
And rapid Ebro, gath'ring all their powers
To crush this daring populace. The pride
Of fiercest kings with more inflam'd revenge
Ne'er menac'd freedom; nor since dauntless Greece,
And Rome's stern offspring, none hath e'er surpass'd
The bold Batavian 17 in his glorious toil
For liberty, or death. At once the thought
Of long-lamented Carthage flies thy breast,
And ardent, goddess, thou dost speed to save
The generous people. Not the vernal showers,
Distilling copious from the morning clouds,
Descend more kindly on the tender flower,
New-born and opening on the lap of Spring,
Than on this rising state thy cheering smile
And animating presence; while on Spain,
Prophetic thus, thy indignation broke:

"Insatiate race! the shame of polish'd lands!
Disgrace of Europe! for inhuman deeds
And insolence renown'd! what demon led
Thee first to plough the undiscover'd surge,
Which lav'd an hidden world? whose malice taught
Thee first to taint with rapine, and with rage,
With more than savage thirst of blood, the arts,
By me for gentlest intercourse ordain'd,
For mutual aids, and hospitable ties
From shore to shore? or, that pernicious hour,
Was Heaven disgusted with its wondrous works,
That to thy fell exterminating hand
Th' immense Peruvian empire it resign'd,
And all, which lordly Montezuma 18 sway'd?
And com'st thou, strengthen'd with the shining stores
Of that gold-teeming hemisphere, to waste
The smiling fields of Europe, and extend
Thy bloody shackles o'er these happy seats
Of liberty? Presumptuous nation, learn,
From this dire period shall thy glories fade,
Thy slaughter'd youth shall fatten Belgium's sands,
And Victory against her Albion's cliffs

Shall see the blood-empurpled ocean dash

Thy weltering hosts, and stain the chalky shore: Ev' those, whom now thy impious pride would bind In servile chains, hereafter shall support

Thy weaken'd throne; when Heaven's afflicting hand

Of all thy power despoils thee, when alone
Of all, which e'er hath signaliz'd thy name,
Thy insolence and cruelty remain."

Thus with her clouded visage, wrapt in frowns,
The goddess threaten'd, and the daring train
Of her untam'd militia, torn with wounds,
Despising Fortune, from repeated foils
More fierce, and braving Famine's keenest rage,
At length through deluges of blood she led
To envied greatness; ev'n while clamorous Mars
With loudest clangour bade his trumpet shake
The Belgian champaign, she their standard rear'd
On tributary Java, and the shores

Of huge Borneo; thou, Sumatra, heard'st
Her naval thunder, Ceylon's trembling sons
Their fragrant stores of cinnamon resign'd,
And odour-breathing Ternate and Tidore
Their spicy groves. And O whatever coast
The Belgians trace, where'er their power is spread,
To hoary Zembla, or to Indian suns,

17 The Dutch.

18 Montezuma, emperor of Mexico.

Still thither be extended thy renown,

O William, pride of Orange, and ador'd
Thy virtues, which, disdaining life, or wealth,
Or empire, whether in thy dawn of youth,
Thy glorious noon of manhood, or the night,
The fatal night of death 19, no other care
Besides the public own'd. And dear to fame
Be thou, harmonious Douza 20; every Muse,
Your laurel strow around this hero's urn,
Whom fond Minerva grac'd with all her arts,
Alike in letters and in arms to shine,

21

A dauntless warrior, and a learned bard.
Him Spain's surrounding hosts for slaughter mark'd,
With massacre yet reeking from the streets
Of blood-stain'd Harlem: he on Leyden's tow'rs,
With Famine his companion, wan, subdu'd
In outward form, with patient virtue stood
Superior to despair; the heavenly Nine
His suffering soul with great examples cheer'd
Of memorable bards, by Mars adorn'd
With wreaths of fame; Eagrus' 2 tuneful son,
Who with melodious praise to noblest deeds
Charm'd the lölchian heroes, and himself
Their danger shar'd; Tyrtæus 22, who reviv'd
With animating verse the Spartan hopes;
Brave Eschylus 23 and Sophocles 24, around
Whose sacred brows the tragic ivy twin'd,
Mix'd with the warrior's laurel; all surpass'd
By Douza's valour: and the generous toil,
His and his country's labours soon receiv'd
Their high reward, when favouring Cominerce rais'd
Th' invincible Batavians, till, rever'd
Among the mightiest, on the brightest roll
Of fame they shone, by splendid wealth and power
Grac'd and supported; thus a genial soil
Diffusing vigour through the infant oak,
Affords it strength to flourish, till at last
Its lofty head, in verdant honours clad,
It rears amidst the proudest of the grove.
Yet here th' eternal Fates thy last retreat
Deny, a mightier nation they prepare
For thy reception, sufferers alike
By th' unremitted insolence of power
From reign to reign, nor less than Belgium known
For bold contention oft on crimson fields,
In free-tongu'd senates oft with nervous laws
To circumscribe, or conquering to depose
Their scepter'd tyrants: Albion, sea-embrac'd,
The joy of freedom, dread of treacherous kings,
The destin'd mistress of the subject main,
And arbitress of Europe, now demands
Thy presence, goddess. It was now the time,

19 He was assassinated at Delf. His dying words were, 'Lord, have mercy upon this people." See Grot. de Bell. Belg.

20 Janus Douza, a famous poet, and the most learned man of his time. He commanded in Leyden when it was so obstinately besieged by the Spaniards in 1570. See Meursii Athen. Bat.

21 Orphens, one of the Argonauts, who set sail from Iölchos, a town in Thessalia.

22 When the Spartans were greatly distressed in the Messenian war, they applied to the Athenians for a general, who sent them the poet Tyrtæus.

23 Eschylus, one of the most ancient tragic poets, who signalized himself in the battles of Marathon and Salamis.

24 Sophocles commanded his countrymen the Athenians, in several expeditions.