Unite the poles, and without bloody spoil

Bring home of either Ind the gorgeous stores;

Or, should despotic rage the world embroil,

Bade tyrants tremble on remotest shores,

While o'er th' encircling deep Britannia's thunder

roars.

XXI.

*

The drooping muses then he westward call'd,
From the fam'd city* by Propontick sea,
What time the Turk th' enfeebled Grecian thrall'd
Thence from their cloister'd walks he set them free
And brought them to another Castalie,

Where Isis many a famous nursling breeds;

Or where old Cam soft paces o'er the lea

In pensive mood, and tunes his Doric reeds,

The whilst his flocks at large the lonely shepherd feeds.

XXII.

Yet the fine arts were what he finish'd least.

For why? They are the quintessence of all,
The growth of labouring time, and slow increast;
Unless, as seldom chances, it should fall,
That mighty patrons the coy sisters call

Up to the sunshine of uncumber'd ease.

Where no rude care the mounting thought may thrall, And where they nothing have to do but please: Ah! gracious God! thou know'st they ask no other

fees.

*Constantinople.

XXIII.

But now, alas! we live too late in time :
Our patrons now even grudge that little claim,
Except to such as sleek the soothing rhyme ;
And yet, forsooth, they wear Macenas' name,
Poor sons of puft-up vanity, not fame,
Unbroken spirits, cheer! still, still remains
Th' Eternal Patron, Liberty; whose flame,
While she protects, inspires the noblest strains,
The best, and sweetest far, are toil-created gains.

XXIV.

When as the night had fram'd, în Britain-Land,
A matchless form of glorious government,

In which the sovereign laws alone command,
Laws 'stablished by the public free consent,
Whose majesty is to the sceptre lent;

When this great plan, with each dependent art,
Was settled firm, and to his heart's content,
Then sought he from the toilsome scene to part,
And let life's vacant eve breathe quiet thro' the heart.

XXV.

For this he chose a farm in Deva's vale,
Where his long alleys peep'd upon the main,
In this calm seat he drew the healthful gale,
Here mix'd the chief, the patriot, and the swain.
The happy monarch of his sylvan train,

Here, sided by the guradians of the fold,

He walk'd his rounds, and cheer'd his blest domain:

His days, the days of unstain'd nature, roll'd, Replete with peace and joy, like patriarchs of old.

XXVI.

Witness, ye lowing herds, who gave him milk;
Witness, ye flocks, whose woolly vestments far
Exceed soft India's cotton, or her silk;

Witness, with autumn charg'd, the nodding car,
That homeward came beneath sweet evening star,
Or of September-moons the radiance mild.

O hide thy head, abominable war!

Of crimes and ruffian idleness the child!

From heaven this life ysprung, from hell thy glories vild.

XXVII.

Nor from his deep retirement banish'd was
Th' amusing care of rural industry.

Still, as with grateful change the seasons pass,
New scenes arise, new landskips strike the eye;
And all th' enliven'd country beautify:

Gay plains extend where marshes slept before:
O'er recent meads th' exulting streamlets fly;
Dark frowning heaths grow bright with Ceres' store,
And woods imbrown the steep, or wave along the
shore.

XXVIII.

As nearer to his farm you made approach,

He polish'd nature with a finer hand.

Yet on her beauties durst not art encroach; 'Tis art's alone the beauties to expand. In graceful dance immingled, o'er the land, Pan, Pales, Flora, and Pomona play'd: Here too brisk gales the rude wild common fann'd An happy place; where free, and unafraid, Amid the flowing brakes each coyer creature stray'd.

XXIX.

But in prime vigour what can last for aye?
That soul-enfeebling wizard Indolence,

I whilom sung, wrought in his works decay!
Spread far and wide was his curs'd influence;
Of public virtue much he dull'd the sense,
Even much of private; eat our spirit out,
And fed our rank luxurious vices; whence
The land was overlaid with many a lout;
Not, as old fame reports, wise, generous, bold, and

stout.

XXX.

A rage of pleasure madden'd every breast,
Down to the lowest lees the ferment ran :
To his licentious wish each must be blest,
With joy be fever'd; snatch it as he can.
Thus Vice the standard rear'd; her arrier ban
Corruption call'd, and loud she gave the word,
"Mind, mind yourselves! why should the vulgar

man

X

"The lacquey be more virtuous than his lord? "Enjoy this span of life! 'tis all the gods afford."

XXXI.

The tidings reach'd to where, in quiet hall, The good old knight enjoy'd well-earn'd repose, "Come, come, Sir Knight! thy children on thee call: "Come, save us yet, ere ruin round us close! "The demon Indolence thy toils o'erthrows." On this the noble colour stain'd his cheeks: Indignant glowing through the whitening snow Of venerable eld; his eye-full speaks

His ardent soul, and from his couch at once he breaks.

XXXII.

I will, (he cried,) so help me God! destroy
That villain Archimage.-His page then straight
He to him call'd, a fiery-footed boy,

·Benempt Despatch. "My steed be at the gate; "My bard attend; quick, bring the net of fate." This net was twisted by the sisters three ; Which when once cast o'er harden'd wretch, too late Repentance comes; replevy cannot be From the strong iron grasp of vengeful destiny.

XXXIII.

He came, the bard, a little druid-wight,
Of wither'd aspect; but his eye was keen,
With sweetness mix'd. In russet brown bedight,
As is his sister of the copses green,

*The Nightingale