And, leaning where yon oak expands her arms, Heard these rude cliffs thine awful voice rebound, (For in thy fpeech I recognise the found.) • You mourn'd for ruin'd man, and virtue loft, XXVIII. But fay, in courtly life can craft be learn'd, 'Where knowledge opens, and exalts the foul; 'Where fortune lavishes her gifts unearn'd, • Can felfishness the liberal art control? Is glory there atchiev'd by arts, as foul As those which felons, fiends, and furies plan ? Spiders enfnare, fnakes poifon, tygers prowl; Love is the godlike attribute of man. O teach a fimple youth this mystery to fcan. XXIX. Or elfe the lamentable ftrain difclaim, And give me back the calm, contented mind; Which, late, exulting, view'd in Nature's frame, Goodness untainted, wisdom unconfined, 'Grace, grandeur, and utility combine. Rettore thofe tranquil days, that faw me ftill Well-pleafed with all, but most with humankind; When Fancy roam'd through Nature's works at will, Uncheck'd by cold diftruft, and uninform'd of ill.' XXX. • Would thou (the Sage replied) in peace return To the gay dreams of fond romantic youth, Leave me to hide. in this remote fojourn, And indignation make thine eyes o'erflow, XXXI. But let untender thoughts afar be driven And happiness of virtue; nor can they XXXII. Yet leave me not. I would allay that grief, When the dark fhades of melancholy lower ; Even when exempt from grief, remorse, and pain: • Amusement, knowledge, wifdom thou may'st gain: If I one foul improve, I have not lived in vain." XXXIII. And now, at length, to Edwin's ardent gaze Her Chiefs their thirft of power in blood affwage, And languish in the duft, and clafp the abandon'd urn. XXXIV. Ah, what avails (he faid) to trace the fprings That whirl of empire the ftupendous wheel! Ah, what have I to do with conquering kings, • Hands drench'd in blood, and breafts begirt with • fteel! To thofe, whom Nature taught to think and feck, • Could History man's fecret heart reveal, And what imports a heaven-born mind to learn, Her transcripts to explore, what bofom would not yearn! XXXV. This praife, O Chero can Sage*, is thine. • Lured by the toys that captivate the throng; O who of man the story will unfold, Or towards his bower the murmuring ftream decoy, < Sweet were your fhades, O ye primeval groves, Whose boughs to man his food and fhelter lent, Pure in his pleasures, happy in his loves, His eyes ftill fmiling, and his heart content. Then, hand in hand, Health,Sport, and Labour went. • Nature fupplied the wifh fhe taught to crave. None prowled for prey, none watch'd to circumvent. To all an equal lot Heaven's bounty gave: No vassal fear'd his lord, no tyrant fear'd his flave. D 3 * PLUTARCH. XXXVIII. But ah! th' Hiftorick Mufe has never dared To pierce thofe hallow'd bowers: 'tis Fancy's beam Pour'd on the vifion of th' enraptured Bard, That paints the charms of that delicious theme. Then hail fweet fancy's ray! and hail the dream That weans the weary foul from guilt and woe! Careless what others of my choice may deem, I long where Love and Fancy lead to go, And meditate on heaven; enough of earth I know.' . XXXIX. I cannot blame thy choice (the Sage replied) Eyes dazzled long by Fiction's gaudy rays In modeft Truth no light nor beauty find. And who, my child, would trust the meteor-blaze, • That foon muft fail, and leave the wanderer blind, 'More dark and helpless far, than if it ne'er had shined? XL. Fancy enervates, while it fooths the heart, And, while it dazzles, wounds the mental fight: Its vifionary fiends, an endless train, Affail with equal or fuperior might, And through the throbbing heart, and dizzy brain, And shivering nerves, fhoot ftings of more than mortal 'pain. XLI. And yet, alas the real ills of life Claim the full vigour of a mind prepared, • We fare on earth as other men have fared? • How they have born the load ourselves are doom'd to bear. XLII. What charms th' Hiftoric Mufe adorn, from spoils, And peace, through every age divinely bright XLIII. Hail facred Polity, by Freedom rear'd! In Albion may your influence unprofaned To godlike worth the generous bosom raise, And prompt the Sage's lore, and fire the poet's lays. XLIV. But now let other themes our care engage. To curb Imagination's lawless rage, ⚫ And from within the cherish'd heart to brace, And hope and Courage brighten in their ftead, While on the kindling foul her vital beams are shed. |