To what new clime, what distant sky,
Forfaken, friendlefs, fhall ye fly?

Say, will ye bless the bleak Atlantic shore,
Or bid the furious Gaul be rude no more?

Strophe 2.

When Athens finks by fates unjust,
When wild Barbarians fpurn her dust;
Perhaps ev'n Britain's utmoft fhore
Shall ceafe to blush with ftranger's gore,
See arts her favage fons controul,

An Athens rifing near the pole!

Till fome new Tyrant lifts his purple hand,
And civil madnefs tears them from the land.

Antiftrophe 2.

Ye Gods! what justice rules the ball?
Freedom and Arts together fall;

Fools grant whate'er ambition craves,
And men, once ignorant, are flaves.
Oh curs'd effects of civil hate,

In ev'ry age, in ev'ry state!

Still, when the luft of tyrant pow'r fucceeds,
Some Athens perishes, fome Tully bleeds.

Chorus

Chorus of Youths and Virgins.

O

Semichorus.

H tyrant Love! haft thou possest

The prudent, learn'd, and virtuous breast?

Wisdom and wit in vain reclaim,

And arts but foften us to feel thy flame.
Love, foft intruder, enters here,

But entring learns to be fincere.
Marcus with blushes owns he loves,

And Brutus tenderly reproves.

Why, virtue, doft thou blame defire,

Which nature has impreft?

Why, nature, doft thou fooneft fire

The mild and gen'rous breaft?
Chorus.

Love's purer flames the Gods approve;
The Gods, and Brutus bend to love:
Brutus for abfent Portia fighs,

And fterner Caffius melts at Junia's eyes.

What is loofe love? a tranfient gust,
Spent in a fudden storm of luft;
A vapour fed from wild defire,
A wandring, felf-confuming fire.
But Hymen's flames like stars unite;
And burn for ever one;

Chafte as cold Cynthia's virgin light,

Productive as the Sun.

Semichorus.

Oh fource of ev'ry focial tye,

United wish, and mutual joy!

What various joys on one attend,

As fon, as father, brother, husband, friend?
Whether his hoary fire he fpies,

While thousand grateful thoughts arife;

Or meets his fpoufe's fonder eye;

Or views his fmiling progeny;

What tender paffions take their turns,
What home-felt raptures move?

His heart now melts, now leaps, now burns,
With rev'rence, hope, and love.

Chorus.

Chorus.

Hence guilty joys, distastes, furmizes,
Falfe oaths, false tears, deceits, difguifes,
Dangers, doubts, delays, furprizes ;

Fires that scorch, yet dare not shine:
Pureft love's unwafting treasure,
Conftant faith, fair hope, long leifure,
Days of eafe, and nights of pleasure ;
Sacred Hymen! these are thine.

VERSES

To the MEMORY of an

UNFORTUNATE LADY.

W

Hat beck'ning ghost, along the moonlight shade Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade? 'Tis fhe! ----but why that bleeding bofom gor'd, Why dimly gleams the vifionary fword? Oh ever beauteous, ever friendly! tell, Is it, in heav'n, a crime to love too well? To bear too tender, or too firm a heart, To act a Lover's or a Roman's part? Is there no bright reversion in the sky, For those who greatly think, or bravely die?

Why bade ye elfe, ye Pow'rs! her foul afpire

Above the vulgar flight of low defire?

Ambition