Seiz'd on the Steed;

And thence him led, (fo fate decreed)

To where old Cam, renown'd in poet's fong,
With his dark and inky waves,

Either bank in filence laves,

Winding flow his fluggish ftreams along.

HI. I..

What stripling neat, of visage sweet,
In trimmest guise array'd,
First the neighing Steed affay'd?
His hand a taper switch adorns, his heel
Sparkles refulgent with elastick fteel:
The whiles he wins his whiffling way,

Prancing, ambling, round and round,

By hill, and dale, and mead, and greenswerd gay : Till fated with the pleasing ride,

From the lofty Steed difmounting,

He lies along, enwrapt in conscious pride,

By gurgling rill or crystal fountain.

III. 2.

III. 2.

Lo! next, a Bard, fecure of praise, His felf-complacent countenance displays. His broad Mustachios, ting'd with golden die, Flame, like a meteor, to the troubled air : Proud his demeanor, and his eagle eye, O'er-hung with lavish lid, yet shone with glorious glare. The grizzle grace

Of bushy peruke shadow'd o'er his face.

In large wide boots, whose ponderous weight Would fink each wight of modern date, He rides, well pleas'd. So large a pair Not Garagantua's felf might wear : Not He, of nature fierce and cruel, Who, if we trust to antient Ballad, Devour'd Three Pilgrims in a Sallad ; Nor He of fame germane, hight Pantagruel.

III. 3.

Accoutred thus, th' adventrous Youth

Seeks not the level lawn, or velvet mead,

Fast by whofe fide clear ftreams meandring creep;

But urges on amain the fiery Steed

Up Snowdon's fhaggy fide, or Cambrian rock uncouth: Where the venerable herd

Of Goats, with long and fapient beard, And wanton Kidlings their blithe revels keep. Now up the mountain fee him ftrain!

Now down the vale he's toft,

Now flashes on the fight again,

Now in the Palpable Obfcure quite lost.

IV. 1.
I.

Man's feeble race eternal dangers wait,
With high or low, all, all, is woe,

Disease, mischance, pale fear, and dubious fate.

But,

But, o'er every peril bounding, Ambition views not all the ills furrounding, And, tiptoe on the mountain's steep, Reflects not on the yawning deep.

IV. 2.

See, fee, he foars! With mighty wings outfpread, And long refounding mane,

The Courfer quits the plain.

Aloft in air, fee, fee him bear

The Bard, who fhrouds

His Lyrick Glory in the clouds,

Too fond to strike the stars with lofty head!

He topples headlong from the giddy height, Deep in the Cambrian Gulph immerg'd in endless night.

O Steed Divine! what daring spirit

Rides thee now? tho' he inherit

Nor

Nor the pride, nor felf-opinion,
Which elate the mighty Pair,

Each of Taste the fav'rite minion,

Prancing thro' the defert air;

By help mechanick of Equestrian Block,

Yet fhall he mount, with classick housings grac'd,
And, all unheedful of the Critick Mock,

Drive his light Courfer o'er the bounds of Taste.

ODE