THE Tears of the Muſes; A POEM.
[9]GERMANICUS, for Love, and Empire, born,
At once to govern Kingdoms, and adorn;
Too good for Greatneſs, but that Kings can bleſs,
Too firm for Fear, but of his Friend's Diſtreſs:
Fore-temp'ring Pow'r by Reaſon's generous Plan,
To taſk the Monarch, meditates the Man.
IN a Town Grove, whence Dryads Noiſe exclude,
And huſh loud Streets, to Sylvan Solitude,
[10]Veil'd by a verdant Skreen's incircling Shade,
Whoſe angly Sides eight arching Lights pervade,
Friend to Mankind, their penſive Fav'rite ſtood;
Revolving previous Plans of purpos'd Good.
SOFT, to his Sight, a Female Suppliant preſs'd,
In all the ſpeaking Marks of Mis'ry dreſs'd:
Down-look'd, relax'd of Mien, oft bending, low;
Now ſtopping ſhort, now re-advancing, ſlow:
Pardon, ſhe cry'd, th' intruding Sighs of Grief;
Hope is the friendleſs Wretche's laſt Relief.
GERMANICUS, who when Diſtreſs draws nigh,
Catches quick Sorrow, from the Suff'rer's Eye,
With gentle Waft invites her back'ning Fears,
And ſmiles the Warmth of Pity on her Tears.
Her, while advancing, heedful he ſurvey'd,
Chance ſtretch'd his Eye to the remoter Shade:
[11]Where, dimly obvious from the bord'ring Wood,
Dark'ning the Arches, Eight new Phantoms ſtood;
All, like the Firſt, thin Forms of ſhivering Woe,
Wept All—in dumb, ſad, ſolemn, circly Show!
THINK, cry'd th' Approacher, proſtrate at his Feet,
How ſharp is Inſult! and Relief how ſweet!
Pity a wretched Siſterhood of Tears:
Nine friendleſs Mourners, whom no Comfort chears.
All Arts were Ours, that poliſh'd Life cou'd gain:
But Arts, and poliſh'd Life, were Ours in vain.
See! what Reward wiſh'd Knowledge cou'd impart!
Where Fool is Faſhion, Ignorance is Art.
Urg'd by Deriſion, and eſcaping Hate,
We, ſad, ſlow, Exiles, ſeek ſome gentler Fate.
To the bleak North's new-riſing Coaſts we go;
Leſs cold than Theſe, amidſt eternal Snow.
Glory's gay Beams, to whoſe felt Warmth we run,
More than ſupply the Abſence of their Sun.
[12]There, mourning Merit cannot miſs Relief;
Where watchful Pow'r ſupplants prevented Grief.
Fam'd for Munificence, Thy princely Hand
Singly abſolves an unbeſtowing Land.
Ah! Save the Friendleſs—Help the Wrong'd away:
Too poor to go, yet too un-lov'd to ſtay!
Pay but wiſh'd Paſſage from this cruel Shore:
And never, never, will we truſt it more.
SCARCE had th' imploring Accents voic'd her Pray'r,
When the known Sounds and recollected Air
Through the falſe Semblance, natively convey'd,
To the charm'd Prince, a ſpeaking Muſe, betray'd.
Round, while, uncrediting the ſtoried Woe,
His curious Eyes diſcov'ring Glances, throw,
Th' examin'd Umbrage, as he turn'd, reveal'd
Each Muſe, that every diſtant Arch conceal'd.
Waiting impatient, for the finiſh'd Tale,
Quit your vain Hope, he cry'd, by Want's thin Veil
[13] Unhid, to 'ſcape the Rev'rence of my Zeal,
Who all your Power, through all your Changes, feel.
JOYFUL, He ſnatch'd th' Implorer from the Ground,
Then, turning graceful, bow'd progreſſive, round;
Preſs'd their joint Acceſs undiſguis'd and gay;
And ſhone, receptive of each effluent Ray.
SEATED, and circled by the beamy Train,
Their Shapes, reſuming, and Themſelves again,
Tell me, ſaid He—Ye Soul-inſpiring Nine!
Ye living Fires, that give the Great, to ſhine!
Who, quick'ning Regal Courage into Flame,
Guide it, by Juſtice, to immortal Fame!
Why wou'd ye leave a Land diſtinguiſh'd, long,
For Love of Valour, and for Hate of Wrong?
Where Freedom unreſtrain'd her Empire holds,
And Legal Monarchy new Bloom unfolds?
[14]HE paus'd—and CLIO anſwering, thus began,
Periſh pale Malice!—It oblit'rates Man.
Where Envy blaſts, the Muſe inſpires in vain:
No human Culture, there, extends its Reign.
Loſt in Malignity by civil Hate,
Virtues that claſh with Virtues curſe a State.
Stifled in Faction, Arts unfriended ſink:
Or, pigmy'd into partial Flatt'ry ſhrink.
Hiſt'ry muſt bluſh, the Wiles of Spleen to pen,
And grace the bloodleſs Broils of angry Men.
SMOTHER'D in Self, there breathes no public Soul,
Where ſep'rate Strugglings gen'ral Strength controul:
There, Policy's old gen'rous Straitneſs bends;
And ſhifting Medium crawls, to ſidelong Ends.
There, Fraud triumphant tempts the Juſt to fall:
And every one Man's Gain is Loſs, to All.
[15]There, Love internal, checking Sighs that roam,
Begins, and ends, all Charity,—at Home.
Each Pray'r appropriates one Man's modeſt Aim:
And humbly truſts to God the Common Claim.
Cruſh'd by Contempt of Praiſe, Exertion dies:
And Public Spirit, laugh'd at, ſhuns to riſe.
THITHER when Hope miſleads th' Hiſtoric Muſe,
Swift let her ſeek ſome Scene of nobler Views.
Where guileleſs Pow'r no Praiſe to Graft aſcribes,
Where Courage ſcorns Deceit, and Duty—Bribes.
Where nervous Meaning dares, directly, ſpeak:
And crooked Windings teach no Truth to ſneak.
'TIS found—for, ſee!—The icy Pole diſſolves!
Honour's new Warmth with ſunny Force evolves!
There, glows Event! There, more than Roman Arms
Claſh their prophetic Thunder's fear'd Alarms!
[16]There, the puls'd Public beats, in ev'ry Vein:
Strong, to one Purpoſe, lifts with equal Strain.
No vile Pretenſion, there, at Titles aims:
No Pride-ſwoln Lumber lazy Lordſhip ſhames.
There, ſhines the Sword, in Honour's guarded Track,
No Knighthood bluſhes, on a Miſer's Back.
No bought Emblaz'nings Eminence efface,
No dirty Dignity ſublimes Diſgrace.
There, Heroes multiply: and labouring Fame
Grows buſy,—to record each ſparkling Name.
SHE ceas'd.—The Prince his Patriot Eyes withdrew,
Weigh'd the long Charge, and wiſh'd it, Half, untrue.
Sigh'd at the Waſte domeſtic Diſcord made:
And mourn'd unfriended Arts, by Spleen betray'd.
Then view'd the Siſters, re-prepar'd to hear:
While ERATO, ſoft ſighing, charm'd his Ear.
[17]LUR'D, ſaid the am'rous Muſe, from Realms above,
Pleas'd I deſcended on this Land of Love;
Look'd and approv'd: and form'd aerial Schemes,
Of heart-felt Tyes, and Hope's eluſive Dreams;
Vainly propos'd—Each Sex by Each to mend;
And ſmooth the rugged Paths of Life, with Friend.
Snatch'd at One ſweet Example, New to Fame,
Urg'd its dear Pow'r, th' Unhappier to reclaim:
Miſguided Millions hail'd th' acknowledg'd Charms;
And lov'd Perfection, when it bleſs'd Thy Arms.
But, ah! too loſt a Length Themſelves were gone!
They worſhip'd, and confeſs'd:—but ſtill ſinn'd on.
Yet I, vain Hoper! Still new Helps apply:
And, ever failing, wou'd for ever try.
To ſlighted Beauty wou'd new Powers impart;
And ſtretch the aided Empire of the Heart.
Teach Man, that Woman's Strength in Softneſs lies:
Teach Woman, why the Modeſt charm the Wiſe.
[18]Uſeleſs to Either, I from Both, remove.
Money's th' inſpiring Muſe of modiſh Love!
O'er Truth and Paſſion, Avarice prevails:
All Vows are venal, and all Sighs are Sales.
Int'reſt and Vanity, and Self, diſarm
Mutual Eſteem, till neither Sex can charm.
Then, blanc unnat'ral Whims pervert Deſire:
Attraction failing, they exchange Attire.
Then, Man's lac'd Lightneſs apes the Lady's Air:
And bluff big Boldneſs maſculates the Fair.
With changing Sexes, Love's loſt Motives change,
From Wiſh to Wiſh the ſhort-liv'd Paſſions range.
Recorded Conſtancy becomes Romance:
And, among Millions, Two may love—by Chance!
WHY ſhould I, then, ſupporting preſent Scorn,
Stretch my too patient Hope, to Times unborn?
When, to the North, where Nature ſhines unſtain'd,
Confiding Sexes love, with Faith unfeign'd.
[19]Their native Beauties, in no Clime excell'd,
To riſing Force by conſcious Worth impell'd;
While through the ſparkling Eye taught Spirit breaks,
And the felt Luſtre of their Fame partakes.
THE Lover Prince unwillingly believ'd
Faults, which his nobler Nature ſcarce conceiv'd.
Touch'd for the Honour of the Human Heart,
His own glow'd painful, with ideal Smart.
When loftier Accents from URANIA broke,
And ſnatch'd his liſt'ning Soul, while Science ſpoke.
FROM Heav'n's unſounded Depth, ſhe cry'd, I ſtole
Angelic Fire, and form'd a NEWTON's Soul.
Taught him the ſecret Walks of God to tread;
And 'twixt the ſtarry Worlds his Spirit led:
All Aether op'ning to a Mortal's Eyes,
Till Earth ſent Colonies, and held the Skies!
[20]What King, for This, magnificently juſt,
Bleſs'd him in Life, or dignified his Duſt?
What voted Honours mark th' Aſpirer's Race?
What thinking Statues emulate his Face?
He, who immortaliz'd his Country's Name,
Beyond Ten Thouſand Conqu'rors bounded Fame,
He, who, to lift Mankind, new Heav'ns diſplay'd,
And every Human Breather nobler made,
Did He to public Fame All Nature raiſe?
And is He poorly left to private Praiſe!
In ſuch a Land, ah! what can Arts expect?
What Claim has hopeleſs Science, but Neglect?
O! Fate of wintry Worth, by Climate croſs'd!
Budding untimely, to be nip'd in Froſt!
NEWTON has multiplied the Suns!—yet pours
In vain, the Light of all their Orbs, on Ours.
When will th' incurious Courts, for which, He found
New Worlds, find Will to trace an Old one round?
[21]What promis'd Penſion ſhips th' unſhaken Soul,
To dare Diſcov'ry, and ungloom the Pole?
What coaſting Keel, indenting Southern Strands,
Starts the long Shores of Cloud-benighted Lands?
No annual Bounty, perſevering, kind,
Draws the dark Veil, that covers half Mankind.
What regal Influ'nce, eaſing Learning's Birth,
Now, adds new Stars to Heav'n? or Arts, to Earth?
Who ſows Munificence, to root up Sloth,
And call forth Harveſts, of eternal Growth?
HAIL, to the Land, where War makes Science Room!
Where Realms from Deſarts riſe! and Ruins bloom!
Where Conqueſt, ſpreading to embrace Diſtreſs,
Lets looſe Ambition, not to waſte, but bleſs!
There, Pow'r inverts Deſtruction, into Birth;
And the prolific Sword empeoples Earth!
There, Deſolation, fruitful in Decay,
Fades, into Opulence, and ſtrengthens Sway.
[22]There, Ports (un-native) indrawn Seas confine:
And climbing Streams o'er channel'd Mountains ſhine.
There, public Splendor ſwallows private Pride,
And Claims which All Men ſhare in, All Men, guide.
There, Art rewarded, ſtrains excited Skill;
Till dazling Wonders wid'ning Empire fill.
The fierce free Tartar ſees the Tartar taught;
Grins, at advancing Rule, and pants for Thought.
Then, in long Link, new Nations forward draw:
And the drain'd Wilds of Nature crowd to Law.
Hail, promis'd Land!—All, now, that ſeems ſevere,
Is—that, removing hence, We leave YOU here.
URANIA ſtopp'd, and bow'd.—The Prince, whoſe Heart
Inly confeſs'd the Pow'r of cheriſh'd Art,
Nobly approving Praiſe, ſo juſtly warm;
Smil'd, conſcious of his inborn Right to charm.
[23]NEXT, roſe TERPSICHORE,—melodious Muſe!
Soft, her firſt Accents, like deſcending Dews:
Sweet, and ſlow-ſwelling, till in livelier Sound,
Gay, to the raviſh'd Ear, quick Tranſports bound.
Tim'd to the tuneful Voice, each trembling Tree
Strain'd its tugg'd Roots, and labour'd to be free.
Warm'd through the wak'ning Stone, the ſculptur'd Ear
Of every ſtarting Statue ſeem'd to hear.
Air catch'd, and length'ning back the mazy Notes,
Curls, while the undulating Muſic floats.
Earth, liſt'ning, to inhale harmonious Pain,
Sigh'd it, in ſoft Vibration, back again.
PARDON a mourning Muſe, that leaves, with Tears,
The Land, that lov'd GERMANICUS endears.
But, ah! what Toils, what Anguiſh, ſhalt thou bear!
What endleſs Labour muſt o'erload thy Care!
[24]Ere thy loſt Views a Taſte like Thine, inſpire,
And ſparkling Kingdoms catch Thy manly Fire!
NEAR Opera's fribling Fugues, what Muſe can ſtay?
Where wordleſs Warblings winnow Thought, away!
Muſic, when Purpoſe points her not the Road,
Charms, to betray, and ſoftens, to corrode.
Empty of Senſe, the Soul-ſeducing Art
Thrills a ſlow Poiſon to the ſick'ning Heart.
Soft ſinks Idea, diſſolute in Eaſe,
And all Life's feeble Leſſon is, to pleaſe.
Spirit, and Taſte, and generous Toil, take Flight:
And lazy Love, and indolent Delight,
And low luxurious Wearineſs of Pain,
Lull the loſt Mind,—and all its Powers are vain.
HENCE, to the Realms of Fame, ye Muſes, fly.
There, to the Drum's big Beat, the Heart leaps high.
[25]There, ſighing Flutes but temp'ring Martial Heat,
Teach diſtant Pity and Revenge to meet.
The manly Pipe, there, ſcorns th' expanded Shakes,
That wind wav'd Nothings, till Attention akes.
There now, concurring Keys and Chords increaſe
The Heart's ſoft ſocial Tyes, and cheriſh Peace.
Then, Trumpets, anſw'ring Trumpets, ſhrill, and far,
Swell to the ſounding Wind th' inſpiring War.
There, the rows'd Soul, in Exerciſe, grows ſtrong:
Nor pools to puddly Foulneſs, ſtopp'd, too long.
Strength'ning, and ſtrengthned by, the Poet's Fire,
There, Muſic's meaning Voice exalts Deſire.
There, Harmony not drowns, but quickens, Thought;
And Fools, unfeeling Words, by Notes are caught.
SOFT ſigh'd the Prince, for ſuff'ring Muſic, pain'd,
And POLYHYMNIA, riſing warm, complain'd.
Deign to be told, Impartial, Gen'rous, Wiſe!
Why fruitleſs Eloquence indignant flies.
[26]Gall'd at loſt Time, in Caſes vainly clear'd,
At Truths, untouching, and at Sounds, unheard;
Bluſhing, while Oratory's lab'ring Strains
On Prae-deciſion, waſte derided Pains;
And flouriſh'd Periods, to no Purpoſe fine,
Like Suns in Deſarts, without Notice, ſhine,
Hating grave Inſult, I diſdain to ſtay,
Where Talk but trifles, and where Tropes but play.
If ſerious Rhet'ric ſweats, where ſneering Mutes
Haſt'ning the hurried Queſtion, crop Diſputes;
If Law ſells Argument, yet Forms muſt reign,
And, Cuſtom pleading, Equity is vain;
If the dark Pulpit's ſhort myſterious Art
Lifts Faith to Heav'n; and damns the Moral Heart;
Bear me, diſhonour'd God! to ſome plain State,
Where Truth, in ſpite of Aye and No, is Weight.
Where Pleas of Right a reas'ning Bench perſuade,
And Juſtice ſcorns in Precedent to trade.
[27]Where no bold Blaſphemy wou'd Faith enſlave:
But, humble, honeſt, doubting, Works can ſave.
EUTERPE, watchful of her Siſter's Cloſe,
Snatch'd her ſunk Cadence, and impatient roſe.
Pleaſure, ſhe cry'd, is Mine; Mine, the gay Skill,
To paint the Fancy, and adorn the Will.
But, where dry Avarice has Taſte betray'd,
Pleaſure is Robbery, in Maſquerade,
Contending Sexes puſh One common Aim:
And Youth, and Wit, and Beauty, meet, to game!
At Cards to conquer, or at Dice to ſweep,
Is all the humble Joy, the Poliſh'd reap!
OR, if, aſpiring to robuſter Praiſe,
Some livelier Genius, Warmth more active ſways,
Then, frock'd in groomy Sleekneſs, tight, and ſmart,
The pert, capp'd, Racer dares the Jockey's Art.
[28]At Stake and Plate, his Skill profoundly ſhewn,
He from his Horſe's Worth, preſumes his own.
OR, nobly ſtung by John the Coachman's Claim,
Climbing th' advent'rous Box, diſputes his Fame!
Scatt'ring malignant Duſt, cracks Voice and Thong,
Glows, for a Livery's Right, and burns along!
Proudly diſplay'd, looks back, and ſhouts, to find
Poor conſcious John, leſs glorious, hang behind:
NOT ſo, th' Olympian Rivals charm'd, of Old,
When fiery Youths in whirling Chariots roll'd!
Then, the watch'd Signal bad the Rank disjoin;
And ruſhing Wheels diſſolv'd the breaking Line:
Strain'd to th' expanded Whip's impulſive Sound,
Light leap'd th' exulting Axles o'er the Ground:
'Twixt crowding Nations, partial, panting, gay,
The prais'd plum'd Heroe ſkim'd the leſſ'ning Way.
[29]The ſmoaking Steeds obey'd the watchful Rein,
And winding warlike, ſwept the ſhouting Plain.
Now, graceful rais'd, now pendent in Carier,
High, and far-glitt'ring, ſhone the Charioteer;
Firm in his Seat, ſuperior in his Mien,
Flew o'er the Courſe, and flam'd along the Green:
Martial in Geſture, Eminent in Grace,
His Birth and Grandeur light'ning from his Face.
OR, if to ſweeter Conteſt match'd he mov'd,
And, in ſome Ball, led the kind Hand he lov'd,
The modeſt Fair, ſlow through the mazy Dance,
Swam to the love-ſick Soul, in ſoft Advance.
No light coarſe Friſking kick'd off Woman's Air:
No ſtrong, ſtretch'd, Limb out-trod Attraction, there.
Decent their Pleaſures, and diſcreetly weigh'd;
Active the Youth, and delicate the Maid.
Honour, by Elegance, its Right maintain'd:
And, Thought correcting Rapture, Prudence reign'd.
[30]MOURNFUL MELPOMENE, with Tragic Frown,
Spoke next: and thus deplor'd a taſteleſs Town.
Why ſtrove the Scenic Muſe to ſhine, in vain,
Where Wit is Levity, and Art is Gain?
Where Law's blind Hope wou'd curb Corruption's Rage,
Yet, left undue Contempt to taint the Stage?
Hence, Theatres, neglected into Shame,
Catching at Concourſe, Purity diſclaim.
By Pow'r deſerted, make their humbler Court
To Rake, and Rancour, or to Fool and Sport.
Piqu'd to Reprizal, unconfed'rate Wit,
Noting the popular, evades the fit.
Then, the Play plots on State-craft, laughs at Truth:
Miſguides Allegiance, or unſinews Youth.
Thither crowds Faction, to be taught Complaint:
Where Pow'r, the Martyr, might have reign'd, the Saint.
There, Wiſdom bleeds, by Pleaſure's feath'ry Dart:
And Love's looſe Hand unſtrings the ſlacken'd Heart.
[31]There, Diſcontent firſt trys her tim'rous Force;
Hints, and finds Help, and dares her dang'rous Courſe.
There, Froth, Farce, Flatt'ry, Chance, Sedition, rule:
And Virtue ſcarce finds Place, in Virtue's School!
FAREWELL, forſaken Stage.—When Courts refuſe
To urge Wit's wand'ring Rein, ſhe ſhames a Muſe.
Hail! from AFAR—Thou, fate-foretelling Light!
Beaming prognoſtic, through the Eye of Night!
Kindling a hundred Realms, th' enliv'ning Flame
Wings the wak'd Energy of courted Fame.
There, Empire flaſhing into Glory's Blaze,
Conſcious Intention bluſhes not at Praiſe.
There, ſpurring Virtue, Wit has leave to mean:
And Pow'r, exciting Paſſion, prompts the Scene.
SO muſt it be, ere Tragic Fire is felt!
But, where grave Thoughts are Marks, for Fools to pelt;
[32]Where tir'd, illit'rate, viewleſs, yawning Pride
Muſt hear, unliſt'ning, and, un-taught, decide,
There, let loſt Sentiment miſpoint no Beam;
To hope, were Blindneſs: and to wiſh, a Dream!
UP leap'd THALIA, glowing red with Rage,
Fir'd and indignant at a farceful Age.
Shall Comedy's inſulted Muſe, ſhe cry'd,
Hold Hoops, to Tumblers!—
She paus'd,—unable to proceed;—ſigh'd ſtrong:
Repell'd the big Diſdain—and trac'd her Wrong.
SHALL COMEDY, for ſworded Harlequin,
Split Lathes? and arm him, for the mimic Scene!
While He, proud Impotence! with modiſh Strut,
Cocks bluff, diffuſive of his wooden Cut!
Muſt ſhe ſwing Gypſies o'er the winnow'd Pit,
Mounting Poſteriors, in Defect of Wit!
[33]Or clap ſome human Whirlwind's bluſt'ring Rage,
That, o'er twelve Heads deſcending, ſhakes the Stage!
Stare, while th' unmanly Reptile's wriggling Twiſt
Threads the ſtav'd Ladder, and deſcends, unhiſs'd?
Or, for the Rope-Aſpirer's jirkful Tread,
Shall ſhe poize right their emblematic Lead?
NO.—Let implor'd Expulſion wing me thence!
Far let me fly, to ſome fair Seat of Senſe:
Where Life's ſtol'n Humour glows with mirthful Grace,
And Comic Picture copies Nature's Face.
Where imag'd Paſſion, dear to the Polite,
Leaves low Buffoon'ry to the Rabble's Right.
Tir'd, yet untaſk'd, let me no longer wait,
Laughing unheeded,—at the laughing Great:
While, with the Roar of Boys, to Tricks they run,
Which Mobs ſhou'd ſhout at, and the Wiſe ſhou'd ſhun.
Gravely, good Souls! reſerving ſolid Scorn,
For Thoughts, to feel whoſe Force, Themſelves were born.
[34]WARM'D in Wit's Cauſe, lamenting Genius loſt,
Nor taſting Ecſtaſy, at Judgment's Coſt,
Liſt'ning GERMANICUS, with penſive Grace,
Revolv'd wiſh'd Soft'nings, for a pitied Race:
When, like a Trumpet pouring Muſic's Flood,
Speaking CALLIOPE thrill'd through his Blood.
THERE was a Prince! ah! bid me add, ere long,
There is:—impulſive of the Epic Song.
Flame of imperial Prominence, He ſhin'd:
Terror, at once, and Charm, of Humankind!
All the ſoft Praiſe of ſocial Life his Due:
All the rais'd Pow'rs, of Arms, and Arts, he knew.
Fearleſs impell'd his Father's Fortune on:
And, in Youth's Dawn, a dazzling Victor, ſhone!
In Force reſiſtleſs, yet undaring Wrong:
Honeſt, in Vengeance! and in Pity, ſtrong!
[35]Without, dwelt War, in all her thund'ring Din:
While Peace, in all her Stillneſs, wept, within.
Form'd for a Lover, for a Thinker taught;
Bloodleſs reflective Eminence, He ſought:
Born to be greateſt, choſe but to be beſt:
But Heav'n, that knew his Uſe, forbad his Reſt.
Then, from the Calms of conqu'ring Thought, he roſe,
Glow'd in tempeſtuous War, and ſcorn'd Repoſe.
Uncrown'd, gave Crowns, at Will, their Thorns untry'd;
And, more than reigning, without reigning died.
SUCH, though the Land I leave cou'd ſhew me, ſtill,
Calm Seaſons call not for a Pilot's Skill.
Peace is the Bleſſing, Commerce loves to chuſe:
But War, and Glory, taſk the Epic Muſe.
Farewel, ſure Subject of my future Song!
When, riſing flameful at a People's Wrong,
In Times yet diſtant, Thy rememb'ring Hand
Lets looſe Correction at ſome foreign Land.
[36]Then, loud as Thy Applauſe, reclaim us, All:
And every Muſe of Nine ſhall wait thy Call.
SPEAKING ſhe roſe: and, with her, riſing ſlow,
Her Eight ſad Siſters, ſighing, turn'd to go.
Lively upſtarting from his ſhadow'd Seat,
Stay, cry'd the Prince, alarm'd,—ſuſpend Retreat.
Juſt though your Anger, yet Revenge forbear:
Leſt, taught by Muſes, Man forgets to ſpare.
Too ſoon, degen'rate Nature warps awry,
The Bad to copy, and the Good to fly.
Have you beheld Wit's Stream diſcolour'd glide,
And pour'd loſt Azure on th' unconſcious Tide?
Think the Blame yours, who Heav'n's beſt Tincture bring,
To ſtain the Current, yet neglect the Spring!
Wou'd you, at once, coerulean Depth renew?
And, gayly bright'ning, fluſh th' Improvement, through?
High, at the Source, th' infuſive Tinge beſtow:
And ev'ry downward Drop ſhall tinctur'd flow.
[37]BUT, while, a Vagrant, Inſpiration ſtrays,
And, here and there, unlicens'd Pow'r diſplays,
Though ſep'rate individual Strollers ſhare
Some uncollective Scatt'rings, of your Care;
This Way, and That, though ſome faint Hint of Light
Gleams, like a Meteor, and ſhrinks back in Night,
Or, mingling Beams, to form ſome deathleſs Blaze,
Once in an Age, You, POPES, or THOMSONS, raiſe:
All the loſt Labour ſerves but to expreſs
How wide our Wants! how thinly we poſſeſs!
Till the Day breaks, expect no gen'ral Glow:
For, the Sky darken'd, keeps all dark, below.
HERE, for Wit's Fountain, dream not of a Court.
Falſe and injurious, ſlight th' unweigh'd Report.
Meant, for a Clime, where Thrones appropriate Pow'r,
And One Man's Paſſions All Mens Rights devour.
[38]But, in free States, where Liberty may chuſe,
Taſte knows no Monarch, and obeys no Muſe.
Senates their Muſes, Property their Aim:
Their Boaſt but Safety;—and their Plaything, Fame.
NO—wou'd your willing Culture waſte no Toil?
Wou'd your Bays thrive, in a reluctant Soil?
Ductile of Form, and changing Shapes at Will,
Aſſume new Sex, new Names, new Views, new Skill.
Safe, in ſage Politics, conceal your Wit:
Then, by my Bounty, qualify'd to ſit,
Nine Corniſh Boroughs might aſſign you Place,
Where, mix'd unthought-of, You may ſhun Diſgrace.
There, breathing unſuſpected Influence, lurk,
Till patient Progreſs crowns your arduous Work.
Thence, ſhall deſcending Radiance Taſte convey:
And willing Kingdoms make the Muſes Way.
Till, Time ſlow fav'ring, You may quit Diſguiſe,
And wear Wit, plain, among th' unlaughing Wiſe.
[39]PAUSING, He ſmil'd Humanity, ſo kind,
That ev'ry Muſe was touch'd, and chang'd her Mind:
All bow'd Conſent, to His grave Purpoſe wrought;
And, thus, URANIA voic'd her Siſter's Thought.
BORN to a People's Hearts, their DARLING, ſhine!
Let ev'ry Wiſh, and Hope, and Joy, be Thine!
Mov'd by the magic Mercy of Thy View,
We feel good Counſel, and embrace it too.
One ſole Condition grant, and we obey:
No dang'rous Notice muſt detect our Stay!
Hid in Thy Grove, each menial Muſe ſhall claim
Domeſtic Shelter from Reproach and Shame:
Till, by thy Scheme, their yet unrival'd Friend!
Their Infl'ence widens, and their Suff'rings end.
Then, ſhewn the World, and privileg'd to pleaſe,
And, gath'ring Face and Faſhion, by Degrees,
[40]Seen at Aſſemblies, Belles may Jokes forbear:
Nor, ſhocking modeſt Strangers, turn and ſtare!
THUS, in his Shade, from public Pain exempt,
Sleeping, the Viſionary Poet dreamt.
Then wak'd; and found his ſparkling PRINCE was there:
But ev'ry empty Muſe was loſt in Air.
FINIS.
