Hail, bank of all past ages! where they lie
T'enrich with interest posterity!

Hail Wit's illuftrious Galaxy!

Where thousand lights into one brightness spread;
Hail, living Univerfity of the dead!

Unconfus'd Babel of all tongues! which e'er

The mighty linguift Fame, or Time, the mighty traveThat could fpeak, or this could hear.

Majestick monument and pyramid !

Where still the shades of parted fouls abide
Embalm'd in verfe; exalted fouls which now
Enjoy those arts they woo'd so well below ;
Which now all wonders plainly fee,
That have been, are, or are to be,
In the mysterious library,

The beatific Bodley of the Deity;

Will you into your facred throng admit
The meanest British Wit?

You, general-council of the priests of Fame,
Will you not murmur and difdain,
That I a place among you claim,

The humbleft deacon of her train ?
Will you allow me th' honourable chain ?

The chain of ornament, which here
Your noble prifoners proudly wear;

A chain which will more pleasant seem to me
Than all my own Pindaric liberty!

[ler,

Will ye to bind me with those mighty names fubmit, Like an Apocrypha with holy Writ ?

M 3

What

Whatever happy book is chained here,
No other place or people need to fear;
His chain 's a passport to go every where.

As when a feat in heaven

Is to an unmalicious finner given,

Who, cafting round his wondering eye, Does none but patriarchs and apostles there espy; Martyrs who did their lives bestow,

And faints, who martyrs liv'd below;

With trembling and amazement he begins
To recollect his frailties paft and fins;
He doubts almost his ftation there;

His foul fays to itself, "How came I here?”
It fares no otherwife with me,

When I myself with confcious wonder fee
Amidst this purify'd elected company.
With hardship they, and pain,

Did to this happiness attain :

No labour I, nor merits, can pretend;
I think predestination only was my friend.

Ah, that my author had been ty'd like me
To fuch a place and fuch a company!
Instead of feveral countries, feveral men,

And business, which the Muses hate,
He might have then improv'd that small estate
Which Nature sparingly did to him give;

He might perhaps have thriven then,
And fettled upon me, his child, fomewhat to live.

}

}

'T had

T had happier been for him, as well as me ;

For when all, alas! is done,

We books, I mean, You books, will prove to be

The best and nobleft conversation :

Yet fure we from our fathers' wit

Draw all the strength and spirit of it, Leaving the groffer parts for conversation,

As the best blood of man's employ'd in generation..

O D E.

Sitting and drinking in the Chair made out of the Relicks of Sir FRANCIS DRAKE'S Ship.

CHE

HEAR up, my mates, the wind does fairly blow,
Clap on more fail, and never spare;

Farewell all lands, for now we are

In the wide fea of drink, and merrily we go. Bless me, 'tis hot! another bowl of wine,

And we shall cut the burning Line :

Hey, boys! fhe scuds away, and by my head I know
We round the world are failing no

now.

What dull men are those that tarry at home,
When abroad they might wantonly roam,

And gain fuch experience, and spy too

Such countries and wonders, as I do!
But pr'ythee, good pilot, take heed what you do,.
And fail not to touch at Peru!·
M4

With

With gold there the veffel we 'll store,
And never, and never be poor,

No, never be poor any more.

What do I mean? What thoughts do me mifguide? As well upon a ftaff may witches ride

Their fancy'd journeys in the air,

As 1 fail round the ocean in this chair!

'Tis true; but yet this chair which here you

For all its quiet now, and gravity,

Has wander'd and has travel'd more

fee,

Than ever beaft, or fish, or bird, or ever tree, before: In every air and every fea 't has been,

'T has compafs'd all the earth, and all the heavens 't has Let not the Pope's itself with this compare,

This is the only univerfal chair.

The pious wanderer's fleet, fav'd from the flame
(Which still the relicks did of Troy pursue,
And took them for its due),

A fquadron of immortal nymphs became :
Still with their arms they row about the feas,
And still make new and greater voyages:
Nor has the first poetic fhip of Greece
(Though now a star she so triumphant show,
And guide her failing fucceffors below,
Bright as her ancient freight the fhining fleece)
Yet to this day a quiet harbour found;
The tide of heaven ftill carries her around.
Only Drake's facred vessel (which before

Had done and had feen more

[feen.

Than

Than thofe have done or feen,

Ev'n fince they Goddeffes and this a Star has been)

As a reward for all her labour past,

Is made the feat of reft at last.

Let the cafe now quite alter'd be,

And, as thou went'ft abroad the world to fee,

Let the world now come to fee thee!

The world will do 't; for curiofity
Does, no less than devotion, pilgrims make;
And I myself, who now love quiet too,
As much almost as any chair can do,
Would yet a journey take,

An old wheel of that chariot to fee,

Which Phaeton fo rafhly brake :

Yet what could that fay more than these remains of *Drake ?

Great relick! thou too, in this port of ease,

Haft ftill one way of making voyages;

The breath of Fame, like an aufpicious gale

(The great trade-wind which ne'er does fail) Shall drive thee round the world, and thou fhalt run, As long around it as the fun.

The ftreights of Time too narrow are for thee;
Launch forth into an undiscover'd sea,

And steer the endless courfe of vast Eternity!
Take for thy fail this verse, and for thy pilot me!

UPON