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MISCELL A NIE S.
359 In arn more active than ev'n war requir'd, Yet such the subjects, various, and so high, And in the midst of mighty chiefs admir'd. Stupendous wonders of the Deity! Of all Heaven's gifts, no tenper is so rare,
Miraculous effects of boundless power! As lo much courage mix'd with so much care. And that as boundless goodness fhining more! When martial fire niakes all the spirits boil,
All these lo numberlefs my thoughts attend,
Oh where shall I begin, or ever end?
But on that theme which ev'n the wise abuse, But in the midlt of all that furious heat,
So facred, in sublime, and so abftrure,
Abruptly to break off, wants 179 excuse.
While others vainly strive to know thee more, is that composure which a hero makes,
Let me in filent reverence adore;
Thrice happy angels in their high degree,
ALTERATION OF JULIUS CÆSAR.
Hope to mend Shakspeare! or to march his style! Where floating castles in fierce flames engage
T'is such a jest would make a Stoic smile. (Where Mars himself does frowningly command, Too fund of fame, our poet foars too high, And by lieutenants only fights ac land);
Yet freely onds he wants the wings to fly! For his own fame howe'er he fought before,
So sensible of his presumptuous thought,
That he confeffes while he does the fault:
Who oft in blushes yield co what they love.
Of greatest actions, and of noblest men, Still, like a diamond in the duft, it shin'd..
This story molt deserves a poet's pen : When from afar his drnoping friends beheld
For who can with a scene more juftly fam'd, How in distress he evin himself excell'd;
When Rome and nighty Julius are bụt dam'd How to his envious fate, his coun:ry's frown,
That lace of heroes who the world had brav'd! His brother's will, he facrific'd his own;
That wondrous man who such a state enslav'd! They rais'd their hearts, and never doubted more
Yec leth he was co take so sough a way, But tha: ; Heaven would all our joys restore.
And after govern'd with so mild a fway. , So Whand black clouds surround heaven's glori
At diftance now of leventeen hundred years, ous face,
Methinks a lovely savilher appears; Tempestuous darkness covering all the place, Whon, though forbid by virtue to excuse, If we stifcern but the least glimmering ray
A nymph might pardon and could scarce refuse. Of that bright orb of fire which rules the day, The cheerful fight our fainting courage warns : Tix'd upon that we feas no future harms.
CHORUSES IN JULIUS CÆSAR.
ON THE DEITY.
WHITHER is Roman honour gone?
Where is your ancient virtue now?
Muft to a haughty matter bow: (beside,
So does a lion or a bear,
virtues careaten t:ofc,
But zealous heat exalts the humbleft miod; Within my soul such strong impulse I find The heavenly tribute of due praise to pay: Perhaps 'tis sacred, and I must obey.
l'1- Mucíchal de Turenne, Vol. VII,
Who round the world for wealth and empire roum, Black enough to shroud the light Yet never, never think what flaves we are at home! Of all this world in dismal night.
MISCELL A N I Si
Could act no mischiefs worse than those
That Julius, with ambitious thoughts,
Had virtues too, his foes could find; And breaks the law of unity of place :
These equal him in all his faules, Yet to such noble patriots, overcome
But never in his noble mind. By factious violence, and banith'd Rome,
That free-born spirits (bould obey Athens alone a fit retreat could yield;
Wrecches, who know not how to (way! And where can Brutus fall, but in Philippi field ?
Some critics judge ev'o lote itself too mcan Late we repent our hasty choice, A care to mix in such a lofty scene,
In vain bemoan so quick a turn. And with those ancient bards of Greece believe Hark all to Rome's upited voice !! Friendship has stronger charms to please or grieve; Better that we a while had borne But our more amorous poet, finding love
Ev'n all those ills which most difplease, Amidtt all other cares, still shines above,
Than fought a cure far worse than the disease
Our vows thus cheerfully we fing,
While martial music fires our blood; This to the few and knowing was addrest; And now 'tis fit I should falute the rest.
Let all the neighbouring echoes ring Most reverend dull judges of the pit,
With clamours for our couotry's good : By nature curs'd with the wrong side of wit !
And, for reward, of the just gods we claim You need not care, whate'er you see to-night;
A life with freedom, or a death with fame. How ill some players act, or poets write; Should our mistakes be never so notorious,
May Rome be freed from war's alarms,
Aod taxes heavy to be borne;
May the beware of foreign arnis,
And send them back with noble score : But grow not vain upon it, I advise ye : Each petty critic can objections raise,
Aad, for reward, &c. The greatest skill is knowing when to praise.
May she no more confide in friends,
Who nothing farther understood,
To watte her wealth, and spill ket blood CHORUSES IN MÀRCUS BRUTUS. And, for reward, &c.
Our senators, great Jove, restrain
From private piques, they prudence call; + CHORUS III.
From the low thoughts of little gain,
And hazarding the lofing all :
Aad, for reward, &c.
The shining arms with hafte prepare,
Then to the glorious combat fly; That a worse Cæsar would succeed.
Our minds unclogg'd with farther care, And are we under such a curse,
Except to overcome or die : We cannot change but for the worse?
And, for reward, &c.
With fair pretence of foreign force,
By which Rome must herself enthral; There, without blushes or remorse,
Proscribe the best, impoverish all.
They fight, oppression to increase,
We for our liberties and laws;
When freedom is the noble caufe:
+ Se: the firt and second choruses, in the Pooms of Mr. ope.