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Whose foaring genius now fublime afpires,
And deathlefs fame the due reward requires.
Approving Heaven th' exalted virtue views,
Nor can the claim which it

approves refufe.

The great Creator foon the grant refolves,
And in his mighty mind the means revolves.
He thought; nor doubted once, again to chuse,
But fpake the word, and made th' immortal Mufe,
Ne'er did his power produce fo bright a child,
On whofe creation infant Nature fmil'd.
Perfect at firft, a finifh'd form fhe wears,
And youth perpetual in her face appears.
Th' affembled gods, who long expecting ftaid,
With new delight gaze on the lovely maid,
And think the wish'd-for world was well delay'd.
Nor did the fire himfelf his joy disguise,

But ftedfast view'd, and fix'd, and fed his eyes,
Intent a space, at length he filence broke,

And thus the god the heavenly fair bespoke.


"To thee, immortal Maid, from this blefs'd hour, "O'er Time and Fame, I give unbounded power, "Thou from Oblivion fhalt the hero fave; "Shalt rife, revive, immortalize the brave. "To thee, the Dardan Prince fhall owe his fame; To thee, the Cæfars their eternal name. Eliza, fung by thee with Fate shall strive, "And long as Time in facred verfe furvive. "And yet, O Mufe, remains the nobleft theme;

The firft of men, mature for endless fame,

“ Thy

46 Thy future fongs fhall grace, and all thy lays, "Thenceforth, alone shall wait on William's praise. "On his heroic deeds thy verse shall rise;

"Thou fhalt diffufe the fires that he fupplies.


Through him thy fongs fhall more fublime afpire ; "And he, through them, fhall deathlefs fame acquire: "Nor Time nor Fate his glory fhall oppofe, "Qr blaft the monuments the Mufe beftows." This faid; no more remain'd.

Th' ethereal hoft

Again impatient crowd the cryftal coaft.

The Father, now, within his spacious hands,
Encompass'd all the mingled mafs of feas and lands;
And, having heav'd aloft the ponderous sphere,
He launch'd the world to float in ambient air.





O D E.

ET all be hufh'd, each softest motion cease,
Be every loud tumultuous thought at peace,

And every ruder gafp of breath

Be calm, as in the arms of death.

And thou, moft fickle, moft uneafy part,
Thou restlefs wanderer, my heart,
Be ftill; gently, ah leave,

Thou bufy, idle thing, to heave.
Stir not a pulse; and let my blood,
That turbulent, unruly flood,


Be foftly stay'd:

Let me be all, but my attention, dead.
Go, reft, unneceffary fprings of life,
Leave your officious toil and ftrife;
For I would hear her voice, and try
If it be poffible to die.


Come, all ye love-fick maids and wounded swains,
And liften to her healing ftrains.

A wondrous balm between her lips fhe wears,
Of fovereign force to foften cares;

And this through every ear she can impart,
(By tuneful breath diffus'd) to every heart.
Swiftly the gentle charmer flies,
And to the tender grief foft air applies,
Which, warbling myftic founds,
Cements the bleeding panter's wounds.
But ah! beware of clamorous moan:
Let no unpleafing murmur, or harsh groan,
Your flighted loves declare :

Your very tendereft moving fighs forbear,
For even they will be too boisterous here.
Hither let nought but facred Silence come,
And let all faucy praise be dumb.


And lo! Silence himself is here;

Methinks I fee the midnight god appear,
In all his downy pomp array'd,
Behold the reverend fhade:

An ancient figh he fits upon,


Whose memory of found is long fince gone,
And purposely annihilated for his throne:
Beneath, two soft transparent clouds do meet,
In which he seems to fink his fofter feet.
A melancholy thought, condens'd to air,
Stol'n from a lover in despair,

Like a thin mantle, ferves to wrap
In fluid folds his vifionary shape.

A wreath of darkness round his head he wears, Where curling mists supply the want of hairs: While the still vapours, which from poppies rise, Bedew his hoary face, and lull his eyes.


But hark! the heavenly sphere turns round, And Silence now is drown'd

In ecstacy of found.

How on a fudden the still air is charm'd,
As if all harmony were just alarm'd !

And every foul with transport fill'd,
Alternately is thaw'd and chill'd.
See how the heavenly choir
Come flocking to admire,

And with what speed and care

Defcending angels cull the thinnest air!

Haste then, come all th' immortal throng;

And liften to her fong;

Leave your lov'd manfions in the sky,

And hither, quickly hither fly.

Your lofs of heaven nor fhall you need to fear;

While the fings, 'tis heaven here,


See how they crowd, fee how the little cherubs fkip! While others fit around her mouth, and fip

Sweet Hallelujahs from her lip,

Thofe lips, where in furprize of blifs they rove;
For ne'er before did angels tafte

So exquifite a feast,

Of mufic and of love.

Prepare then, ye immortal choir,
Each facred minstrel tune his lyre,

And with her voice in chorus join;

Her voice, which next to yours is most divine.
Blefs the glad earth with heavenly lays,
And to that pitch th' eternal accents raise,
Which only breath infpir'd can reach,

To notes, which only fhe can learn, and you can teach :
While we, charm'd with the lov'd excefs,

Are wrapt in fweet forgetfulness

Of all, of all, but of the prefent happiness ::
Wishing for ever in that ftate to lie,

For ever to be dying fo, yet never die.


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