Bleffes Diana's hand, who leads him fafe
O'er hanging cliffs, who spreads his net fuccefsful,
And guides the arrow through the panther's heart.
The foldier, from fuccessful camps returning
With laurel wreath'd, and rich with hoftile fpoil,
Severs the bull to Mars. The skilful bard,
Striking the Thracian harp, invokes Apollo,
To make his hero and himself immortal.
Thofe, mighty Jove, mean time, thy glorious care,
Who model nations, publifh laws, announce
Or life or death, and found or change the empire.
Man owns the power of kings; and kings of Jove.
And, as their actions tend fubordinate

To what thy will defigns, thou giv'ft the means
Proportion'd to the work; thou feeft impartial
How they thofe means employ. Each monarch rules
His different realm, accountable to thee,
Great ruler of the world: thefe only have
To fpeak and be obey'd; to those are given
Affiflant days to ripen the defign;

To fome whole months, revolving years to fome;
Others, ill-fated, are condemn'd to toil
Their tedious life, and mourn their purpofe blasted
With fruitless act, and impotence of council.

Hail! greatest fon of Saturn, wife difpofer
Of every good thy praife what man yet born
Has fung? or who that may be born fhall fing?
Again, and often hail! indulge cur prayer,
Great father! grant us virtue, grant us wealth :
For, without virtue, wealth no man avails not;
And virtue without wealth exerts lefs power,
And lefs diffufes good. Then grant us, gracious,
Virtue and wealth; for both are of thy gift!

THE SECOND HYMN OF CALLIMACHUS.

From native filence, carol founds harmonious?

Begin, young men, the hymn : let all your harps Break their inglorious filence; and the dance, In myftic numbers trod, explain the mufic. But firft, by ardent prayer, and clear luftration, Furge the contagious fpots of human weakness: Impure no mortal can behold Apollo. So may ye flourish, favour'd by the god, In youth with happy nuptials; and in age With filver hair, and fair defcent of children! So lay foundations for afpiring cities, And bless your fpreading colonies increase!

Pay facred reverence to Apollo's fong; Left wrathful the far-fhooting god emit His fatal arrows. Silent nature flands; And feas fubfide, obedient to the found

3

Of lö, lö Pean nor dares Thetis
Longer bewail her lov'd Achilles' death;
For Phoebus was his foe. Nor muft fad Niobe
In fruitless forrow perfevere, or weep

Ev'n through the Phrygian marble. Haplefs mother!

Whose fondness could compare her mortal offspring
To those which fair Latona bore to Jove.
Tö again repeat ye, Iö Pean!

Against the Deity 'tis hard to ftrive.
He, that refifts the power of Ptolemy,
Refifts the power of heaven; for power from heaven
Derives; and monarchs rule by gods appointed.

Recite Apollo's praife, till night draws on,
The dirty still unfinish'd; and the day
Unequal to the godhead's attributes
Various, and matter copious of your fongs.

Sublime at Jove's right-hand Apollo fits,
And thence diftributes hon ur, gracious king,
And theme of verfe perpetual. From his robe
Flows light ineffable: his harp, is quiver,
And Lictian bow, are gold: with golden fandals
His feet are fhod; how rich: how beautiful!
Beneath his fteps the yellow mineral rifes,
And earth reveals her treasures. Youth and beauty
Eternal deck his cheeks: from his fair head
Perfumes diftill their fweets; and cheerful health,
His duteous handmaid, through the air improv'd,
With lavish hand diffufes fcents ambrofial.

The fpearman's arm by thee, great god, directed, Sends forth a certain wound. The laurel'd bard, Infpir'd by thee, compofes verfe immortal. Taught by thy art divine, the fage phyfician Eludes the urn; and chains or exiles death.

Thee, Nomian, we adore; for that, from heaven Descending, thou on fair Amphrysus' banks Didft guard Admetus' herds. Sithence the cow Produc'd an ampler ftore of milk; the fhe-goat Not without pain dragg'd her diftended udder; And ewes, that erft brought forth but fingle lambs, Now dropp'd their two-fold burthens. Bleft the cattle,

On which Apollo caft his favouring eye!

But, Phœbus, thou to man beneficent, Delight'ft in building cities. Bright Diana, Kind fifter to thy infant deity,

New-wean'd, and just arifing from the cradle, Brought hunted wild-goats heads, and branching antlers

Of tags, the fruit and honour of her toil. Thefe with difcerning hand thou knew'st to range (Young as thou waft), and in the well-fran'd

models,

With emblematic fkill, and myftic order,
Thou show'st where towers or battlements fhould
rife,
[compass:
Where gates fhould open, or where walls fhould
While from thy childish paftime man receiv'd
The future ftrength and ornament of nations.

Battus, our great progenitor, now touch'd
Thy Libyan ftrand; when the foreboding crow
Flew on the right before the people, marking
The country deftin'd the aufpicious leat
Of future kings, and favour of the god,

Whose oath is fure, and promise stands eternal

Or Boëdromian hear'st thou pleas'd, or Clarian
Phœbus, great king? for different are thy names,
As thy kind hand has founded many cities,
Or dealt benign thy var ous gifts to man.
Carnean let me call thee; for my country
Calls thee Carnean, the fair colony
Thrice by thy gracious guidance was tranfported,
Ere fettled in Cryene; there w' appointed
Thy annual feafts, kind god and bless thy altars
Smoking with hecatombs of flaughter'd bulls,
As Carnus, thy high priest and favour'd friend,
Had erft ordain'd; and with myfterious rites,
Our great forefathers taught their fons to worship.
Io Carnean Phoebus lö Pean!

The yellow corocus there and fair narciffus
Reserve the honours of their winter-ftore,
To deck thy temple; till returning spring
Diffufes Nature's various pride; and flowers
Innumerable, by the foft fouth-west
Open'd, and gather'd by religious hands,

Rebound thei fweets from th' odoriferous pave

ment.

Perpetual fires fhine hallow'd on thy altars,
When annual the Carnean feaf is held;
The warlike Libyans, clad in armour, lead [beat
The dance; with clanging fwords and fhields they
The dreadful measure: in the chorus join
Their women, brown but beautiful: fuch rites
To thee well pleasing. Nor had yet thy votaries,
From Greece tranfplanted, touch'd Cyrene's banks,
And lands determin'd for their last abodes;
But wander'd through Azilis' horrid foreft
Difpers'd; when from Myrtufa's craggy brow,
Fond of the maid, aufpicious to the city,
Which must hereafter bear her favour'd name,
Thou gracious deign'ft to let the fair one view
Her typic people; thou with pleasure taught'ft her
To draw the bow, to flay the fhaggy lion,
And stop the spreading ruin of the plains
Happy the nymph, who, honour'd by thy paffion,
Was aided by thy power! The monitrous Python
Durft tempt thy wrath in vain: for dead he fell,
To thy great strength and golden arms unequal.
lo! while thy unerring hand elanc'd
Another, and another dart; the people
Joyfully repeated lö! lö Pean!
Elance the dart, Apollo: for the safety

And health of man, gracious thy mother bore thee.
Envy, thy latest foe, fuggefted thus:
Like thee I am a power immortal; therefore
To thee dare fpeak. How canft thou favour partial
Those poets who write little? Vast and great
Is what I love: the far-extended ocean
To a small rivulet I prefer. Apollo

ادر

Spurn'd Envy with his foot; and thus the god:
Dæmon, the head-long current of Euphrates,
Affyrian river, copious runs, but muddy;
And carries forward with his ftupid force
Polluting dirt; his torrent still augmenting,
His wave ftill more defil'd: meanwhile the nymphs
Meliffan, facred and reclufe to Ceres,
Studious to have their offerings well receiv'd,
And fit for heavenly ufe, from little urns
Pour ftreams felect, and purity of waters.

lo Apollo, mighty king, let envy

DID sweeter founds adorn my flowing tongue,
Than ever man pronounc'd, or angeis fung;
Had I all knowledge, human and divine,
T'hat thought can reach, or science can define;
And had I power to give that knowledge birth,
In all the speeches of the babbling earth;
Did Shadrach`s zeal my glowing breast inspire,
To weary tortures, and rejoice in fire;
Or had I faith like that which Ifrael faw
When Motes gave them miracles and law:
Yet, gracious Charity indulgent guest,
Were not thy power exerted in my breast,
Thofe fpeeches would fend up unheeded prayer
That fcorn of life would be but wild defpair;
A tymbal's found were better than my voice;
My faith were form, my eloquence were noise.
Charity, decent, modeft, easy, kind,
Softens the high and rears the abject nind,
Knows with juft reins and gentle hand to guide
Betwixt vile fhame and arbitrary pride.
Not foon provok'd, the easily forgives;
And much she fuffers, as the much believes.
Soft peace the brings wherever she arrives;
She builds our quiet, as the forms our lives;
Lays the rough paths of peevish nature even,
And opens in each heart a little heaven.

Each other gift, which God on man bestows,
Its proper bound and due reftriction knows;
To one fixt purpose dedicates its power,
And, finishing its act, exifts no more.
Thus, in obedience to what Heaven decrees,
Knowledge shall fail, and prophecy fhall ceafe;
But lafting Charity's more ample sway,
Nor bound by time, nor fubject to decay,

In happy triumph fhall for-ever live,

[ceive.

And endless good diffufe, and endless praife re-
As, through the artist's intervening glass,

Our eye obferves the diftant planets pafs,
A little we difcover, but allow

That more remains unfeen, than art can fhow:
So, whilst our mind its knowledge would improvą
(Its feeble eye intent on things above),
High as we may, we lift our reafon up,
By faith directed, and confirm'd by hope:
Yet we are able only to furvey
Dawning of beams, and promifes of day.
Heaven's fuller effluence mocks our dazzled sight;
Too great its [wiftnefs, and too ftrong its light.
But foon the mediate clouds fhall be difpell'da
The fun fhall foon be face to face beheld,
In all his robes, with all his glory on,
Scated fublime on his meridian throne.

Then conftant faith and holy hope fhall die, One loft in certainty, and one in joy : Whilst thou, mo e happy power, fair Charity, Triumphant fifter, greatest of the three, Thy office and thy nature ftill the fame, Lafting thy lamp, and unconfum'd thy flame, Shalt ftill furvive

Shalt ftand before the hoft of heaven confeft, For ever bleffing, and for ever bleft.

CUPID IN AMBUSH.

Ir oft' to many has fuccessful been,
Upon his arm to let his mistress lean,
Or with her airy fan to cool her heat,

Or gently squeeze her knees, or prefs her feet.
All public fports, to favour young defire,
With opportunities like this confpire.
Ev'n where his fkill the gladiator fhows,
With human blood where the Arena flows;
There oftentimes love's quiver-bearing boy
Prepares his bow and arrows to destry:
While the fpectator gazes on the fight,
And fees them wound each other with delight;
While he his pretty mill refs entertains,
And wagers with her who the conqueft gaius;
Slily the God takes aim, and hits his heart,
And in the wounds he fces he bears his part.

ENGRAVED ON A COLUMN

IN THE

CHURCH OF HALLSTEAD IN ESSEX; The Spire of rubich, burnt down by Lightning, was rebuilt at the expenc· of Mr. Samuel Fisk., 1717.

VIEW not this fpire by measure given

To buildings rais'd by common hands: That fabric rifes high as heaven,

Whose basis on devotion ftands.

While yet we draw this vital breath,
We can our faith and hope declare;
But charity beyond our death

Will ever in our works appear.
Beft be he call'd among good men,

Who to his God this column rais'd: Though lightning strike the dome again, The man, who built it, fhall be prais'd: Yet fpires and towers in duft fhall lie,

The weak efforts of human pains; And faith and hope themselves fhall die, While deathlefs charity remains.

Of many knotty points they spoke,
And pro and con by turns they took.
Rats half the manufcript have eat :
Dire hunger! which we ftill regret.
O may they ne'er again digest
The horrors of fo fad a feast!
Yet lefs our grief, if what remains,
Dear Jacob |, by thy care and pains
Shall be to future times convey'd.
It thus begins:

Here Matthew faid,
Alma in verfe, in profe the mind,
By Ariftotle's pen defin'd,
Throughout the body fquat or tall,
Is, bonâ fide, all in all.

And yet, flap-dash, is all again

In every finew, nerve, and vein :
Runs here and there, like Hamlet's ghoft;
While every where fhe rules the roaft.

This fyftem, Richard, we are told,
The men of Oxford firmly hold.
The Cambridge wits, you know, deby
With ipfe dixit to comply.

They fay (for in good truth they speak
With fmall refpect of that old Greek),
That, putting all his words together,
"Tis three blue beans in one blue bladder.
Alma, they strenuously maintain,
Sits cock-horse on her throne the brain;
And from that feat of thought difpenfes
Her fovereign pleasure to the fenfes.
Two optic nerves, they say, she ties,
Like fpectacles, across the eyes;
By which the fpirits bring her word,
Whene'er the balls are fix'd or ftirr'd,
How quick at park and play they strike:
The duke they court; the toaft they like;
And at St. James's turn their grace
From former friends now out of place.

Without these aids, to be more ferious,
Her power, they hold, had been precarious:
The eyes might have confpir'd her ruin,
And the not known what they were doing.
Foolish it had been, and unkind,
That they should fee, and she be blind.

Wife nature likewife, they suppose, Has drawn two conduits down our nofe: Could Alma elfe, with judgment tell When cabbage stinks, or rofes finell? Or who would ask for her opinion Between an over and an onion? For from molt bodies, Dick, you know, Some little bits afk leave to flow; And, as through thefe canals they roll, Bring up a fample of the whole; Like footmen running before coaches, To tell the Inn, what lord approaches. By nerves about our palate plac'd, She likewife judges of the taste. Elfe (difmal thought!) our warlike men Might drink thick port for fine champagne ; And our ill-judging wives and daughters Miftake fmall-beer for citron-waters.

Tonfon.

Hence too, that the might better hear, She fets a drum at either ear: And, loud or gentle, harfh or fweet, Are but th' alarums which they beat..

Laft, to enjoy her fenfe of feeling (A thing the much delights to deal in), A thonland little nerves fhe fends Quite to our toes, and fingers' ends; And these in gratitude again Return their fpirits to the brain; In which their figure being printed (As juft before, I think, I hinted), Abna inform'd can try the case, As the had been upon the place

Thus, while the judge gives different journies
To country council and attornies,
He on the bench in quiet fits,
Deciding, as they bring the writs

The Pope thus prays and fleeps at Rome,
And very feldom ftirs from home:
Yet, ending forth his holy fpies,
And having heard what they advife,
He rules the church's bieft dominions,
And fets men's faith by his opinions.

The scholars of the Stagyrite,
Who for the old o; inion fight,
Woda make their modern friends confess
The difference but from more to lefs.
The mind, fay they while you fuftain
To hold her ation in the brain;
You grant, at lealt, the is cxtended:
Ergo the whole pute is ded.

:

For ill co-morro.. ihould you plead,
From form and fructure f the head,
The mi d as viihty is teen

Extended through the whale machine.
Why should all honour then be ta’en
From lower par s to load the brain,
When other li bs we play fee,
Each in his way, as brifk as he?
For oufi, grant the head receive it,
It is the artift's hand tha: gave it,

And, though the fkuli may wear the laurel,
The foldier's arm Pustains the quarrel. ƒ
Befides, the noftris, ears, and eyes,
Are not his parts, but his allies;
Ev'n what you hear the tongue proclaim
Comes ab origine from them.

What could the head perform alone,
If all their friendly aids were gone
A foolish figure he must make;
Do nothing else but fleep and ake.

Nor matters it, that you can show
How to the head the ipirits go;
Those s, irits started from fome goal,
Before they through the veins could roll.
Now, we should hold them much to blame,
If they went back, before they came.

If therefore, as we must suppose,
They came from fingers, and from toes;
Or toes, or fingers, in this cafe,

Of Num fcull's self should take the place:
Difputing fair, you grant thus much,
That all fenfation is but touch.
Dip but your toes into cold water,
Their correfpondent teeth will chatter;

And, ftrike the bottom of your feet,
You fet your head into a heat.
The bully beat, and happy lover,
Confefs that feeling lies all over.

Note here, Lucretius dares to teach
(As all our youth may learn from Creech)
That eyes were made, but could not view,
Nor hands embrace, nor feet pursue:
But heedlefs nature did produce

The members firft, and then the ufe.
What each muft at was yet unknown,
Till all is mov'd by chance alone.

A man first builds a country-feat,
Then finds the walls not good to eat.
Another plants, and wondering fees
Nor books nor medals on his trees.
Yet poet and philofopher

Was he, who durft fuch whims aver.
Bieft, for his fake, be human reason,
That came at all, though late in feason.
But no man fure e'er left his house,

And faddled Ball, with thoughts fo wild, To bring a midwife to his spouse,

Before he knew fhe was with-child. And no man ever reapt his corn,

Or from the oven drew his bread, Ere hinds and bakers yet were born,

That taught them both to fow and knead. Before they're afk'd, can maids refuse? Can-Pray, fays Dick, hold in your mufe. While you Pindaric truths rehearse, She hobbies in alternate verse. Verfe Mat reply'd; is that my care? Go on, quoth Richard, foft and fair. This looks, friend Dick, as nature had But exercis'd the falesman's trade; As if the haply had fat down, And cur out clothes for all the town; Then fent them out to Monmouth-street, To try what perfons they would fit. But every free and licens'd taylor Would in this thefis find a failure. Should whims like thefe his head perplex, How could he work for either fex? His clothes, as atoms might prevail, Might fit a pifmire, or a whale.

:

No, no he views with ftudious pleasure
Your fhape, before he takes your measure.
For real Kate he made the boddice,
And not for an ideal goddefs.
No error near his fhop-board lurk'd:
He knew the folks for whom he work'd;
Still to their fize he aim'd his fkill:
Else, pr'ythee, who would pay his bill?

Next, Dick, if chance herself fhould vary,
Obferve, how matters would mifcarry:
Across your eyes, friend, place your fhoes;
Your fpectacles upon your toes:
Then you and Memmius fhall agree
How nicely men would walk, or fee.

But wildom, peevish and crofs-grain'd,
Must be oppos'd, to be sustain’d;
And still your knowledge will increase,
As you make other people's lefs.
In arms and science 'tis the fame :
Our rival's hurts create our famè.

At Faubert's, if difputes arise
Among the champions for the prize,
To prove who gave the fairer butt,
John fhows the chalk on Robert's coat.
So, for the honour of your book,
It tells where other folks mistook :
And, as their notions you confound,
Those you invent get farther ground.
The commentators on old Ari-
ftotle ('tis urg'd) in judgment vary:
They to their own conceits have brought
The image of his general thought;
Juft as the melancholic eye
Sees fleets and armies in the fky;
And to the poor apprentice ear
The bells found, Whittington lord mayor."
The conjuror thus explaius his fcheme;
Thus fpirits walk, and prophets dream;
Nh Britons thus have fecond-fight;
And Germans, free from gun-fhot, fight.

Theodoret and Origen,

And fifty other learned men,
Atteft, that, if their comments find
The traces of their mafter's mind,
Alma can ne'er decay nor die!.
This flatly t'other fect deny;
Simplicius. Theophraft, Durand,

Great names, but hard in verfe to ftand.
They wonder men fhould have mistook
The tenets of their matter's bank,
And hold, that Alma yields her breath,
O'ercome by age, and feiz'd by death.

Now which were wife? and whichwere fools?
Poor Alma fits between two fools:
The more the reads, the more perplext;
The comment ruining the tex::

Now fears, now hopes, her doubtful fate:
But, Richard, let her look to that-
Whilft we our own affairs pursue.

Thefe different fyftems, old or new,
A man with half an eye may fee,
Were only form'd to disagree.
Now, to bring things to fair conclufion,
And fave much Chriftian ink's effufion,
Let me propofe an healing scheme,
And fail along the middle ftream :
For, Dick, if we could reconcile
Old Aristotle with Gaffendus,

How many would admireur toil!

And yet how few would comprehend us!
Here, Richard, let my.fch me commence :
Ob may my words be loft in feufe!
While pleas'd Thalia deigns to write
The flips and bounds of Alma's fight,
My fimple fyftem fhall fuppofe
That Alma enters at the toes,
That theri fhe mounts by just degrees
Up to the ancles, legs, and knees;
Next, as the fap of life does rife,
She lends her vigour to the thighs;
And, all thefe under regions past,
She neftles fomewhere near the waift;
Gives pain or pleafure, grief or laughter,
As we fhall fhow at large hereafter.
Mature, if not improv'd by time,
Up to the heart the loves to climb

From thence, compell'd by craft and age,
She makes the head her latest stage.

From the feet upward to the head-
Pithy and fhort, fays Dick, proceed.

Dick, this is not an idle notion:
Obferve the progrefs of the motion.
First, I demonftratively prove
That feet were only made to move;
And legs defire to come and go,
For they have nothing else to do.

Hence, long before the child can crawl,
He learns to kick, and wince, and sprawl :
To hinder which, your midwife knows
To bind thofe parts extremely close;
Left Alma, hewly enter'd in,
And stunn'd at her own christening's die,
Fearful of future grief and pain,
Should filently sneak out again.
Full piteous feems young Alma's cafe;
As in a lucklefs gamefter's place,
She would not play, yet must not pass.
Again; as the grows fomething stronger,
And master's feet are swath'd no longer,
If in the night too oft he kicks,

Or fhows his loco-motive tricks;
These first affaults, fat Kate repays him;
When half afsleep, fhe overlays him.

Now mark, dear Richard, from the age
That children tread this worldly stage,
Broom-staff or poker they beftride,
And round the parlour love to ride;
Till thoughtful father's pious care
Provides his brood, next Smithfield fair,
With fupplemental hobby-horses:
And happy be their infant courses!

Hence for fome years they ne'er ftand

fill:

Their legs, you fee, direct their will;
From opening morn till fetting fun,
Around the fields and woods they run;
They frisk, and dance, and leap, and play,
Nor heed what Freind or Snape can say.
To her next ftage as Alma flies,

And likes, as I have faid, the thighs,
With fympathetic power the warms
Their good allies and friends, the arms;
While Betty dances on the green,
And Sufan is at ftool-ball feen;
While John for nine-pins does declare,
And Roger loves to pitch the bar :
Both legs and armis fpontaneous move;
Which was the thing I meant to prove.
Another motion now fhe makes:

O need I name the feat fhe takes?

..

His thought quite chang'd the ftripling finds;
The fport and race no more he minds;
Neglected Tray and Pointer lie,

And covies unmolefted fly.
Sudden the jocund plain he leaves,
And for the nymph in fecret grieves.
In dying accents he complains
Of cruel fires, and raging pains.
The nymph too longs to be alone,
Leaves all the fwains and fighs for one:
The nymph is warm'd with young dekre
And feels, and dies to quench his fire.