Purg'd from their drofs, the nobler parts refine,
Receive new forms, and with fresh beauties fhine.
Thus fluid parts, unknowing how to burn,
With cold congeal'd, to folid metals turn:
For metals only from devouring flame
Preferve their beauty, and return the fame;
Both art and force the well-wrought mass difdains,
And 'midft the fire its native form retains.
Or whether by creation firft they sprung,
When yet unpois'd the world's great fabric hung :
Metals the bafis of the earth were made,
The bars on which its fix'd foundation's laid :
All fecond caufes they difdain to own,
And from th' Almighty's Fiat fprung alone.
Nature in fpecious beds preferves her store,
And keeps unmix'd the well-compacted ore;
The spreading root a numerous race maintains
Of branching limbs, and far-extended veins :
Thus, from its watery store, a spring supplies
The leffer ftreams that round its fountain rife;
Which bounding out in fair meanders play,
And o'er the meads in different currents ftray.
Methinks I fee the rounded metal spread,
To be ennobled with our monarch's head:
About the globe th' admired coin fhall run,
And make the circle of its parent fun.
How are thy realms, triumphant Britain, blest!
Enrich'd with more than all the diftant west!
Thy fons, no more betray'd with hopes of gain,
1 tempt the dangers of a faithlefs main,
Traffic no more abroad for foreign spoil,
Supplied with richer from their native foil.
To Dovey's flood shall numerous traders come,
Employ'd to fetch the British bullion home,
To pay their tributes to its bounteous fhore,
Returning laden with the Cambrian ore.
Her abfent flect Potofi's race fhall mourn,
And with in vain to fee our fails return;
Like mifers heaping up their useless store,
Starv'd with their wealth, amidft their riches poor.
Where-e'er the British banners are difplay'd,
The fuppliant nations fhall implore our aid:
Till, thus compell'd, the greater worlds confefs
Them felves oblig'd, and fuccour'd by the less.
How Cambria's mines were to her offspring known,
Thus facred verfe tranfmits the story down:
Merlin, a bard of the infpired train,
With myftic numbers charm'd the British plain;
Belov'd by Phoebus, and the tuneful Nine,
His fong was facred, and his art divine :
As on Sabrina's fruitful banks he flood,
His wondrous verse restrain'd the liftening flood;
The ftream's bright Goddefs rais'd her awful head,
And to her cave the artful fhepherd led.
Her fwift-defcending steps the youth pursues,
And rich in ore the fpacious mountain views.
In beds diftinct the well rang'd metals lay,
Difperfing rays, and counterfeiting day.
The filver, fhedding beams of orient light,
Struck with too fierce a glare his aking fight;
Dd 3
Like rifing flames the ruddy copper show'd,
And spread its blushes o'er the dark abode :
Profufe of rays, and with unrival'd beams,
The liquid filver flow'd in restless streams :
Nor India's fparkling gems are half so bright,
Nor waves above, that shine with heavenly light;
When thus the Goddess fpake: Harmonious Youth,
Rever'd for numbers fraught with facred truth!
Belov'd by heaven! attend while I relate
The fix'd decree, and dark events of fate.
Conceal'd thefe treasures lie in Nature's womb,
For future times, and ages yet to come.
When many long revolving years are run,
A hero fhall afcend the British throne,
Whofe numerous triumphs fhall Augusta grace,
In arms renown'd, ador'd for plenteous peace.
Beneath his fway a generous youth fhall rife,
With virtues bleft, in happy councils wife;
Rich with the spoils of Learning's various store,
Commanding arts, yet ftill acquiring more.
He, with fuccefs, shall enter this abode,
And nature trace in paths before untrod;
The fmiling offspring from her womb remove,
And with her entrails glad the realms above.
O youth, referv'd by more auspicious fate,
With fam'd improvements to oblige the state!
By wars impoverish'd, Albion mourns no more,
Thy well-wrought mines forbid her to be poor
The earth, thy great exchequer, ready lies,
Which all defect of failing funds fupplies;
Thou shalt a nation's preffing wants relieve,
Not war can lavish more than thou canst give.
This, Mackworth, fixes thy immortal name,
The Muse's darling, and the boast of fame
No greater virtues on record shall stand,
Than thus with arts to grace, with wealth enrich the land.
OW Io Pæan fing! now wreaths prepare!
And with repeated Ios fill the air:
The prey
is fall'n in my fuccessful toils,
My artful nets inclose the lovely spoils :
My numbers now, ye finiling lovers, crown,
And make your poet deathless in renown :
With lafting fame my verfe fhall be inroll'd,
And I peferr'd to all the Bards of old.
Thus Paris from the warlike Spartans bore
Their ravish'd bride; to Ida's diftant fhore
Victorius Pelops thus in triumph drove
The vanquifh'd maid, and thus enjoy'd his love.
Stay, eager youth! your bark 's but under sail;
The diftant port requires a profperous gale.
'Tis not enough the yielding beauty 's found,
And with my aid your artful paffion crown'd;
The FIRST Book of Ovid's "Art of Love," is printed in this Collection, among the poems of Mr. DRYDEN; the THIRD, among thofe of Mr. CONGREVE. Mr. POPE's hand-writing enables us to afcribe the SECOND to Dr. YALDEN. N.
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