That sure the Sibyls books this year foretold;
And in some mystic leaf was seen inroll'd,
• Rome, turn thy mournful eyes from Afric's shore,
• Nor in her fands thy Cato's tomb explore !
• When thrice fix hundred times the circling sun
• His annual race shall thro' the zodiac run,
• An ifle remote his monument shall rear, ' And ev'ry generous Briton pay a tear.'
THAT do we fee! is Cate then become
A greater name in Britain than in Rome ?
Does mankind now admire his virtues more,
Tho' Lucan, Horace, Virgil wrote before?
How will posterity this truth explain?
"Cato begins to live in Anna's reign:"
The world's great chiefs in council or in arms,
Rise in your lines with more exalted charms;
Illustrious deeds in distant nations wrought,
And virtues by departed heroes taught;
Raise in your foul a pure immortal flame,
Adorn your life, and confecrate your fame;
To your renown all ages you fubdue,
And Cafar fought, and Cato bled for you.
IS nobly done thus to enrich the stage,
And raise the thoughts of a degen'rate age,
To show, how endless joys from freedom spring;
How life in bondage is a worthless thing.
The inborn greatness of your foul we view,
You tread the paths frequented by the few.
With so much strength you write, and so much ease,
Virtue, and sense! how durst you hope to please ?
Yet crowds the sentiments of ev'ry line
Impartial clapp'd, and own'd the work divine.
Ev'n the four critics, who malicious came,
Eager to cenfure, and refolv'd to blame,
Finding the hero regularly rise,
Great while he lives, but greater when he dies,
Sullen approv'd, too obftinate to melt,
And ficken'd with the pleasures which they felt.
Not so the Fair their passions secret kept,
Silent they heard, but as they heard, they wept,
When glorioufly the blooming Marcus dy'd,
And Cato told the gods, I'm fatisfy'd.
See! how your lays the British youth inflame!
They long to shoot, and ripen into fame.
Applauding theatres disturb their rest,
And unborn Cato's heave in ev'ry breaft.
Their nightly dreams, their daily thoughts repeat,
And pulfes high with fancy'd glories beat.
So, griev'd to view the Marathonian spoils,
The young Themistocles vow'd equal toils;
Did then his schemes of future honours draw
From the long triumphs which with tears he saw.
How shall I your unrival'd worth proclaim,
Loft in the spreading circle of your fame!
We faw you the great William's praise rehearse,
And paint Britannia's joys in Roman verse.
We heard at distance, foft enchanting strains,
From blooming mountains, and Italian plains.
Virgil began in English dress to shine,
His voice, his looks, his grandeur, still divine:
From him too foon unfriendly you withdrew,
But brought the tuneful Ovil to our view.
Then, the delightful theme of ev'ry tongue,
Th' immortal Marlbrough was your darling song;
From clime to clime the mighty victor flew,
From clime to clime as fwiftly you purfue.
Still with the hero's glow'd the poet's flame,
Still with his conquests you enlarg'd your fame.
With boundless raptures here the muse cou'd swell,
And on your Rosamond for ever dwell :
There op'ning sweets, and ev'ry fragrant flow'r
Luxuriant smile, a never fading bow'r.
Next human follies kindly to expose,
You change from numbers, but not fink in prose :
Whether in vifionary scenes you play,
Refine our taftes, or laugh our crimes away.
Now, by the buskin'd muse you shine confest,
The patriot kindles in the poet's breaft.
Such energy of sense might pleasure raise,
Tho' unembellish'd with the charms of phrafe :
Such charms of phrafe would with success be crown'd,
Tho' nonfense flow'd in the melodious found.
The chastest virgin needs no blushes fear,
The learn'd themselves, not uninstructed, hear.
The libertine, in pleasures us'd to roll,
And idly sport with an immortal soul,
Here comes, and by the virtuous heathen taught,
Turns pale, and trembles at the dreadful thought.
Whene'er you traverse vast Numidia's plains,
What fluggish Briton in his isle remains ?
When Juba seeks the tiger with delight,
We beat the thicket and provoke the fight.
By the description warm'd, we fondly sweat,
And in the chilling east-wind pant with heat.
What eyes behold not, how the stream refines,
*Till by degrees the floating mirrour shines ?
While hurricanes in circling eddies play
Tear up the fands, and sweep whole plains away,
We shrink with horror, and confefs our fear,
And all the fudden founding ruin hear,
When purple robes, diftain'd with blood deceive,
And make poor Marcia beautifully grieve,
When she her fecret thoughts no more conceals,
Forgets the woman, and her flame reveals,
Well may the prince exult with noble pride,
Not for his Lybian crown, but Roman bride.
But I in vain on single features dwell,
While all the parts of the fair piece excel.
So rich the store, so dubious is the feast,
We know not which to pass, or which to taste.
The shining incidents so justly fall,
We may the whole, new scenes of transport call.
Thus jewellers confound our wand'ring eyes,
And with variety of gems surprise.
Here Sapphires, here the Sardian-ftone is seen,
The Topaz yellow, and the Jasper green.
The coftly Brilliant there, confus'dly bright,
From num'rous surfaces darts trembling light.
The different colours mingling in a blaze,
Silent we stand, unable where to praife,
In pleasure sweetly loft ten thousand ways.
Trinity College,
Cambridge.
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