When this, this little group their country calls
From academic fhades and learned halls,
To fix her laws, her spirit to sustain,
And light up glory thro' her wide domain !
Their various taftes in different arts display'd,
Like temper'd harmony of light and shade,
With friendly union in one mass shall blend,
And this adorn the ftate, and that defend.
These the fequefter'd fhade shall cheaply please,
With learned labour, and inglorious ease:
While thofe, impell'd by some resistless force,
O'er feas and rocks fhall urge their vent'rous course;
Rich fruits matur'd by glowing funs behold,
And China's groves of vegetable gold;
From every land the various harvest spoil,
And bear the tribute to their native foil:
But tell each land (while every toil they share,
Firm to fuftain, and refolute to dare,)
MAN is the nobler growth our realms fupply,
And SOULS are ripen'd in our northern sky.
Some penfive creep along the fhelly shore,
Unfold the filky texture of a flower,
With fharpen'd eyes infpect an hornet's fting,
And all the wonders of an infect's wing.
Some trace with curious fearch the hidden caufe
Of nature's changes, and her various laws;
Untwist her beauteous web, difrobe her charms,
And hunt her to her elemental forms:
Or
prove what hidden powers in herbs are found To quench disease and cool the burning wound ; With cordial drops the fainting head fuftain, Call back the flitting foul, and ftill the throbs of pain.
The patriot paffion that shall strongly feel, Ardent, and glowing with undaunted zeal; With lips of fire fhall plead his country's caufe, And vindicate the majefty of laws.
This, cloath'd with Britain's thunder, fpread alarms
Thro' the wide earth, and shake the pole with arms.
That, to the founding lyre his deeds rehearse,
Enfhrine his name in fome immortal verfe ;
To long pofterity his praise confign,
And pay a life of hardships by a line.
While others, confecrate to higher aims,
Whofe hallow'd bofoms glow with purer flames,
Love in their heart, perfuafion in their tongue,
With words of peace fhall charm the lift'ning throng,
Draw the dread veil that wraps th' eternal throne,
And launch our fouls into the bright unknown.
MRS. BARBAULD.
CHA P. XII.
ODE TO CONTENT.
O
THOU, the Nymph with placid eye!
O feldom found, yet ever nigh!
Receive my temperate vow:
Not all the ftorms that shake the pole
Can e'er disturb thy halcyon foul,
And fmooth unalter'd brow.
O come, in fimpleft vest array'd,
With all thy fober cheer difplay'd
To bless my longing fight;
Thy mien compos'd, thy even pace,
Thy meek regard, thy matron grace,
And chafte fubdued delight.
No more by varying paffions beat,
O gently guide my pilgrim feet
To find thy hermit cell;
Where in fome pure and equal sky
Beneath thy foft indulgent eye
The modeft virtues dwell.
Simplicity in Attic veft,
And Innocence with candid breast,
And clear undaunted eye;.
And Hope, who points to distant years,
Fair opening thro' this vale of tears
A vifta to the sky.
There Health, thro' whofe calm bosom glide
The temperate joys in even tide,
That rarely ebb or flow;
And Patience there, thy fifter meek,
Presents her mild, unvarying cheek
To meet the offer'd blow.
Her influence taught the Phrygian fage
A tyrant master's wanton rage
With fettled fmiles to meet ;
Inur'd to toil and bitter bread,
He bow'd his meek fubmitted head,
And kiss'd thy fainted feet.
But thou, oh Nymph retir'd and coy!
In what brown hamlet doft thou joy
To tell thy tender tale;
The lowlieft children of the ground,
Mofs-rofe and violet bloffom round,
And lily of the vale.
O fay what foft propitious hour
I best may chufe to hail thy power,
And court thy gentle fway?
When Autumn, friendly to the Mufe,
Shall thy own modeft tints diffufe,
And shed thy milder day.
When Eve, her dewy ftar beneath,
Thy balmy spirit loves to breathe,
And every ftorm is laid;
If fuch an hour was e'er thy choice,
Oft let me hear thy foothing voice
Low whispering through the fhade.
T
HOU, to whom the world unknown
With all its shadowy shapes is fhewn,
Who feeft appall'd th' unreal fcene,
While Fancy lifts the veil between :
Ah Fear! ah frantic Fear!
I fee, I fee thee near.
I know thy hurried step, thy haggard eye!
Like thee I start, like thee diforder'd fly,
For lo, what monsters in thy train appear!
Danger, whofe limbs of giant mould
What mortal eye can fix'd behold?
Who ftalks his round, an hideous form,
Howling amidft the midnight storm,
Or throws him on the ridgy steep
Of fome loofe hanging rock to fleep:
And with him thoufand phantoms join'd,
Who prompt to deeds accurs'd the mind:
And thofe, the fiends, who near allied,
O'er Nature's wounds, and wrecks prefide;
While Vengeance, in the lurid air,
Lifts her red arm, exposed and bare ́:
On whom that ravening Brood of fate,
Who lap the blood of Sorrow, wait:
Who, Fear, this ghaftly train can fee,
And look not madly wild, like thee?
Thou who fuch weary lengths hast past,
Where wilt thou reft, mad Nymph, at last?
Say, wilt thou shroud in haunted cell,
Where gloomy Rape and Murder dwell?
Or in fome hollow'd feat,
'Gainst which the big waves beat,
Here drowning feamen's cries in tempests brought!
Dark power, with fhuddering meek fubmitted thought,
Be mine, to read the visions old,
Which thy awakening bards have told.
And, left thou meet my blafted view,
Hold each strange tale devoutly true;
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