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Many a long-lingering year, in lonely ille,
• Stuu'd with th' eternal turbulence of waves,

Lo, with dim eyes, that never learn’d to smile,
• Anul trembling hands, the familh'd native craves
• Of Heaven his wretched fare : shivering in caves,
• Or scorch'd on rocks, he pines from day to day ;
• But Science gives the word ; and lo, he braves

'The surge and tempelt, lighted by her ray, And to a happier land wafts merrily away.

XLIX. And even where Nature loads the teeming plain ( With the full



vegetable store, • Her bounty, unimproved, is deadly bane : • Dark woods and rankling wilds, from shore to shore, • Stretch their enormous gloom; which to explore · Even Fancy trembles, in her sprightlieft mood; · For there, each eyeball gleams with lust of gore,

• Nestles each murderous and each monitrous brood, • Plague lurks in every shade, and steams from every flood,

L. • 'Twas from Philosophy man learn’d to tame • The foil by plenty to intemperance fed. • Lo, from the echoing ax, and thundering frame, • Poison and plague and yielding rage are fled. • The waters, bursting from their dimy bed, · Bring health and melody to every vale: • And, from the breezy main, and mountain's head,

· Ceres and Flora, to the funny dale, To fan their glowing charms, invite the fluttering gale,

LI. What dire necessities on every hand . Our art, our Itrength, onr fortitude require ? "Of foes intestine what a numerous band

Against this little throb of life conspire ! 6 Yet Science can elude their fatal ire • A while, and turn aside Death's level'd dart, • Sooth the sharp pang, allay the fever's fire, · And brace the nerves once more, and cheer the heart, And yet a few foft nights and balmy days impart.

LII. · Nor less to regulate man's moral frame + Science exerts her all-composing fway. • Flutters thy breast with fear, or pants for fame, • Or pines to indolence and Spleen a prey, Or Avarice, a fiend more fierce than they? • Flee to the shade of Academus' grove ; • Where cares moleft not, discord melts away

• In harmony, and the pure passions prove (Love. • How sweet the words of truth breathed from the lips of

LIII. • What cannot Art and Industry perform, • When Science plans the progress of their toil!

They smile at penury, direale, and ttorm ; • And oceans from their mighty mounds recoil. • When tyrants scourge, or demagogues embroil • A land, or when the rabble's headlong rage

Order transforms to anarchy and spoil, • Deep-versed in man the philosophic Sage ! Prepares with lenient hand their phrenzy to afswage.

LIV. « 'Tis he alone, whose comprehensive mind, • From situation, temper, soil, and clime

Explored, a nation's various power can bind . And various orders, in one Form sublime • Of polity, that, midst the wrecks of time, • Secure shall lift its head on high, nor fear • Th' affault of foreign or domestic crime,

• While public faith, and public love sincere, • And Industry and Law maintain their fway severe.'

Enraptured by the Hermit's ftrain, the Youth
Proceeds the path of Science to explore.
And now, expanding to the beams of Truth,
New energies, and charms unknown before,
His mind discloses : Fancy now no more
Wantons on fickle pinion through the skies ;
But, fix'd in aini, and conscious of her power,

Sublime from cause to cause exults to rise,
Creation's blended stores arranging as the fies.

Nor love of novelty alone inspires,
Their laws and nice dependencies to scan;
For, mindful of the aids that life requires,
And of the services man owes tu man,
He me itates new arts ou Nature's plan ;
The cold desponding breatt of Sloth to warm,
The flame of Induitry and Genius fan,

An Emulation's noble rage alarm,
and the long hours of Toil and Solitude to charm.

LVII. But She who set on fire his infant heart, And all his dreams, and all his wanderings shared And bless'd the Muse and her celeitial art, Still claim d th’Enthufiaft's fond aud firit regard. From Nature's beauties variously compared And variously coinbined, he learns to frame Those forms of bright perfection, which the Bard,

While boundless hopes and boundless views inflame, Enamour'd confecrates tu never-dying faine.

LVIII. Of late, with cumbersome, though pompous show, Edwin would oft his dowry rhime deface, Through ardour to adorn ; but Nature now To his experienced eye a modeit grace Prefeats, where Ornament the second place Holds to intrinsic worth and juit deliga Subfervient itill. Simplicity apace

Tenpers his rage: he owns her charm divine, And clears th’ainbiguous phrase, and lops th’unwieldy line.

LIX. Fain would I fing (much yet unsung remains) What sweet delirium o'er his bofum ilule, When the great Shepherd of the Mailluan plains * His deep inajestic melody 'gan to rull:


Fain would I fing, what transport florm'd his soul,
How the red current throbb’d his veins along,
When, like Pelides, bold beyond controul,

Gracefully terrible, sublimely strong,
Homerraised high to heaven the loud, th'impetuous fong.

And how his lyre, though rude her first essays,
Now skill'd to footh, to triumph, to complain,
Warbling at will through each harmonious maze,
Was taught to modulate the artful strain,
I fain would fing :-but ah ! I firive in vain.-
Sighs from a breaking heart my voice confound. -
With trembling itep, to join yon weeping train,

I hafte, where gleams funeral glare around (sound. And, mix'd with

thrieks of woe, the knells of death re

Adieu, ye lays, that fancy's flowers adorn,
The soft amusement of the vacant mind!
He sleeps in duft, and all the Muses mourn,
He, whom each Virtue fired, each


refined, Friend, teacher, pattern, darling of mankind ! * He fleeps in duft.-mAh, how shall I pursue My theme' - To heart-consuming grief refign’d Here on this recent grave I fix ny view, And poor my bitter tears.—Ye flowery lays, adieu !

Art thou, my

G** ****, for ever fled !
Arid am I left to unavailing woe !
When fortuve's storms assail this weary liead,
Where cares long since have thed untimely snow,
Ah, now for comfort a hither shall I go!
No more tlıy fuothing voice my anguish chears :

Thy placid eyes with imiles no longer glow,

My hopes to cherish, and allay my fears.- (tears. "Tis meet that I should mourn :-flow forth afrein my

* This excellent person died suddenly, on the 10th of February, 1773. The conclusion of the poem was written a few days after,

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