Now brighter fkies and fresher gales return,
Now fairer maids thy melody demand.
Daughters of Albion, listen to my lyre!
O Phœbus, guardian of the Aonian choir,
Why founds not mine harmonious as thy own,
When all the virgin deities above
With Venus and with Juno move
In concert round the Olympian fathers throne?
III. I.
Thee too, protectress of my lays,
Elate with whofe majestic call
Above degenerate Latium's praise,
Above the flavish boast of Gaul,
I dare from impious thrones reclaim,
And wanton floth's ignoble charms,
The honors of a poet's name
To Somers' counfels, or to Hamden's arms,
Thee, freedom, I rejoin, and bless thy genuine flame,
Great citizen of Albion! Thee
Heroic valour fill attends,
And useful science pleas'd to fee
How art her ftudious toil extends.
While truth, diffusing from on high
A luftre unconfin'd as day,
Fills and commands the public eye;
Till, pierc'd and finking by her powerful ray,
Tame faith and monkish awe, like nightly demons, fly.
Hence the whole land the patriot's ardour shares :
Hence dread religion dwells with focial joy;
And holy paffions and unfullied cares,
In youth, in age, domeftic life employ.
O fair Britannia, hail!-With partial love
The tribes of men their native seats approve,
Unjuft and hostile to each foreign fame :
But when for generous minds and manly laws
A nation holds her prime applause,
There public zeal fhall all reproof disclaim.
THRICE hath the spring beheld thy faded fame
Since I exulting grafp'd the tuneful shell:
Eager through endless years to found thy name,
Proud that my memory with thine should dwell.
How haft thou stain’d the splendor of my choice!
Thofe godlike forms which hover'd round thy voice,
Laws, freedom, glory, whither are they flown?
What can I now of thee to time report,
Save thy fond country made thy impious fport, Her fortune and her hope the victims of thy own? II. There
[* See the "Epiftle to Curio," in this volume.]
There are with eyes unmov'd and reckless heart
Who faw thee from thy summit fall thus low,
Who deem'd thy arm extended but to dart
The public vengeance on thy private foe.
But, fpite of every glofs of envious minds,
The owl-ey'd race whom virtue's luftre blinds,
Who fagely prove that each man hath his price,
I ftill believ'd thy aim from blemish free,
I yet, even yet, believe it, fpite of thee
And all thy painted pleas to greatness and to vice.
"Thou didst not dream of liberty decay'd, "Nor wish to make her guardian laws more ftrong: But the rafh many, firft by thee misled, "Bore thee at length unwillingly along." Rife from your fad abodes, ye curft of old
For faith deferted or for cities fold,
Own here one untry'd, unexampled, deed;
One mystery of shame from Curio learn,
To beg the infamy he did not earn,
And scape in guilt's disguise from virtue's offer'd meed.
For faw we not that dangerous power
Whom freedom oft hath found her mortal bane,
Whom public wisdom ever ftrove to exclude,
And but with blufhes fuffereth in her train?
Corruption vaunted her bewitching spoils,
O'er court, o'er fenate, fpread in pomp her toils,.
And call'd herself the ftates directing foul:
Till Curio, like a good magician, try'd
With eloquence and reafon at his fide,
By ftrength of holier fpells the inchantress to control.
Soon with thy country's hope thy fame extends: The refcued merchant oft thy words refounds: Thee and thy cause the rural hearth defends : His bowl to thee the grateful failor crowns: The learn'd reclufe, with awful zeal who read Of Grecian heroes, Roman patriots dead, Now with like awe doth living merit scan : "While he, whom virtue in his bleft retreat Bade focial eafe and public paffions meet, Afcends the civil fcene, and knows to be a man. VI.
At length in view the glorious end appear'd:
We faw thy fpirit through the senate reign;
And freedom's friends thy inftant omen heard
Of laws for which their fathers bled in vain.
Wak'd in the ftrife the public Genius rofe
More keen, more ardent from his long repose:
Deep through her bounds the city felt his call:
Each crouded haunt was stirr'd beneath his power,
And murmuring challeng'd the deciding hour
Of that too vaft event, the hope and dread of all.
VII.
O ye good powers who look on human kind,
Inftruct the mighty moments as they rowl;
And watch the fleeting shapes in Curio's mind,
And steer his paffions fteady to the goal.
O Alfred, father of the English name,
O valiant Edward, firft in civil fame,
O William, height of public virtue pure,
Bend from your radiant feats a joyful eye
Behold the fum of all your labors nigh,
Your plans of law complete, your ends of rule secure.
VIII.
'Twas then-O fhame! O foul from faith eftrang'd! O Albion oft to flattering vows a prey!
'Twas then-Thy thought what fudden frenzy chang'd?
What rushing palfy took thy ftrength away?
Is this the man in freedom's caufe approv'd?
The man fo great, fo honour'd, fo belov'd?
Whom the dead envy'd, and the living bless'd ?
This patient flave by tinsel bonds allur'd ?
This wretched fuitor for a boon abjur'd?
Whom thofe that fear'd him, fcorn; that trufted him,
O loft alike to action and repofe!
With all that habit of familiar fame,
Sold to the mockery of relentless foes,
And doom'd to exhaust the dregs of life in shame,
To act with burning brow and throbbing heart
A poor deferter's dull exploded part,
To flight the favor thou canft hope no more,
Renounce the giddy croud, the vulgar wind,
Charge thy own lightnefs on thy country's mind, And from her voice appeal to each tame foreign fore. X. But
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