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Enchanting shell!, the sullen Cares, .
And frantic Passions hear thy soft controul.
On Thracia's hills the Lord of War:
Has curb'd the fury of his car,
And dropp'd his thirsty lance at thy command.
Perching on the sceptred hand
Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather'd king
With ruffled plumes, and flagging wing:
Quench'd in dark clouds of slumber lie
The terror of his beak, and lightnings of his eye.

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Thee the voice, the dance, obey, Temper'd to thy warbled lay. O'er Idalia's velvet-green The rosy-crowned Loves are seen On Cytherea's day With antic sports, and blue-eyed Pleasures, Frisking light in frolic measures; Now pursuing, now retreating, Now, in circling troops they meet : To brisk notes in cadence beating Glance their many-twinkling feet. Slow melting strains their Queen's approach declare: Where'er she turns the Graces homage pay. With arms sublime, that float upon the air, In gliding state she wins her easy way; O’er her warm cheek, and rising bosom, move The bloom of young Desire, and purple light of Love.

II. 1.
e Man's feeble race what ills await,
Labour, and Penury, the racks of Pain,
Disease, and Sorrow's weeping train,
And Death, sad refuge from the storms of Fate!

Power of harmony to produce all the graces of motion in the body. • To compensate the real and imaginary ills of life, the Muse was given to mankind by the same Providence that sends the day by its cheerful presence to dispel the gloom and terrors of the night.

The fond complaint, my song, disprove,
And justify the laws of Jove.
Say, has he giv’n in vain the heav'nly Muse ?
Night, and all her sickly dews,
Her spectres wan, and birds of boding cry,
He gives to range the dreary sky:
Till down the eastern cliffs afar
Hyperion's march they spy, and glitt'ring shafts of war,

II.2. 'In climes beyond the solar road, Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam, The Muse has broke the twilight-gloom To cheer the shivering native's dull abode. And oft, beneath the od'rous shade Of Chili's boundless forests laid, She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat In loose numbers wildly sweet Their feather-cinctur’d chiefs, and dusky loves, Her track, where'er the Goddess roves, Glory pursue, and generous Shame, Th' unconquerable Mind, and Freedom's holy flame,

II. 3.
& Woods, that wave o'er Delphi's steep,
Isles, that crown th' Ægean deep,
Fields, that cool Ilissus laves,
Or where Mæander's amber waves
In lingering lab'rinths creep,

Extensive influence of poetic genius over the remotest and most uncivilized nations: its connexion with liberty, and the virtues that naturally attend on it. [See the Erse, Norwegian, and Welch Fragments, the Lapland and American songs.]

& Progress of poetry from Greece to Italy, and from Italy to England. Chaucer was not unaequainted with the writings of Dante or of Petrarch. The Earl of Surry, and Sir Thomas Wyatt had travelled in Italy, and formed their taste there; Spenser imitated the Italian writers; Milton improved on them: but this school expired soon after the Restoration; and a new one arose on the French model, which has subsisted ever since.

How do

your

tuneful echoes languish, Mute, but to the voice of Anguish? Where each old poetic mountain Inspiration breath’d around; Ev'ry shade and hallow'd fountain Murmur'd deep a solemn sound : Till the sad Nine in Greece's evil hour Left their Parnassus for the Latian plains. Alike they scorn the pomp of tyrant-power, And coward Vice, that revels in her chains. When Latium had her lofty spirit lost, They sought, oh Albion! next thy sea-encircled coast.

III. 1.
Far from the sun and summer-gale,
In thy green lap was Nature's darlingo laid,
What time, where lucid Avon stray'd,
To him the mighty mother did unveil
Her awful face: the dauntless child
Stretch'd forth his little arms, and smil'd.
This pencil take (she said) whose colours clear
Richly paint the vernal year:
Thine too these golden keys, immortal boy!
This can unlock the gates of Joy;
Of Horror that, and thrilling Fears,
Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears.

III. 2.
Nor second he, that rode sublime
Upon the seraph-wings of Extasy,
The secrets of th' abyss to spy.
He pass’d the flaming bounds of place and time:
The living throne, the sapphire-blaze,
Where angels tremble while they gaze,
He saw; but, blasted with excess of light,
Clos'd his eyes in endless night.

Shakespear.

i Milton.

470

Behold, where Dryden's less presumptuous car,
Wide o'er the fields of Glory bear
Two coursers of ethereal race,
With necks in thunder cloth'd and long-resounding pace.

III. 3.
Hark, his hands the lyre explore !
Bright-eyed Fancy hovering o'er
Scatters from her pictur'd urn
Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.

But ah! 'tis heard no more
Oh! lyre divine, what daring spirit
Wakes thee now? though he inherit
Nor the pride, or ample pinion,
'That the Theban eagle bear
Sailing with supreme dominion
Through the azure deep of air :
Yet oft before his infant eyes would run
Such forms, as glitter in the Muse's ray
With orient húes, unborrow'd of the sun :
Yet shall he mount, and keep his distant way
Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate,
Beneath the good how. far--but far above the great.

* We have had in our language no other odes of the sublime kind, than that of Dryden on St. Cecilia's Day: for Cowley (who had bis merit) yet wanted judgment, style, and harmony, for such a task. That of Pope is not worthy of 80 great a man. Mr. Mason indeed of late days has touched the true chords, and with a masterly hand, in some of his choruses-above all in the last of Ca. ractacus,

Hark! heard ye not yon footstep dread? &c. 1 Pindar.

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I. 1, • Ruin seize thee, ruthless King! Confusion on thy banners wait, Though fann'd by Conquest's crimson wing They mock the air with idle state. Helm, nor "hauberk's twisted mail, Nor e'en thy virtues, tyrant, shall avail To save thy secret soul from nightly fears, From Cambria's curse, from Cambria's tears!' Such were the sounds, that o'er the crested pride Of the first Edward scatter'd wild dismay, As down the steep of •Snowdon's shaggy side He wound with toilsome march his long array. Stout ”Glo'ster stood aghast in speechless trance: To arms! cried Mortimer, and couch'd his quiv’ring

lance.

me This Ode is founded on a tradition current in Wales, that Edward the First, when he completed the conquest of that country, ordered all the bards that fell into his hands to be put to death.

• The hauberk was a texture of steel ringlets, or rings interwoven, forming a coat of mail, that sate close to the body, and adapted itself to every motion.

Snowdon was a name given by the Saxons to that mountainous tract, which the Welch themselves call Craigian-eryri: it included all the highlands of Caernarvonshire and Merionethshire, as far east as the river Conway. R. Hygden, speaking of the castle of Conway, built by King Edward the First, says, “ Ad ortum amnis Conway ad clivum montis Erery;" and Matthew of Westminster, (ad ann. 1283,) “ 'Apud Aberconway ad pedes montis Snowdoniæ fecit erigi castrum forte."

P Gilbert de Clare, surnamed the Red, earl of Gloucester and Hertford, sonin-law to King Edward.

9 Edmond de Mortimer, lord of Wigmore.

They both were lords-marchers, whose lands lay on the borders of Wales, and probably accompanied the King in this expedition.

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