She flies the realms that own defpotic kings,
And only spreads o'er free born states her wings.
The roof is now the daw's, or raven's haunt,
And loathfome toads in the dark entrance pant;
Or fnakes, that lurk to fnap the heedlefs fly,
And fated bird, that oft comes fluttering by.
An aqueduct acrofs yon vale is laid,
Its channel through a ruin'd arch betray'd;
Whirl'd down a fteep, it flies with torrent force,
Flashes, and roars, and piows a devious course.

Attracted mifts a golden cloud commence, While through high-colour'd air ftrike rays intenfe. Betwixt two points, which yon steep mountains show,

Lies a mild bay, to which kind breezes flow.
Beneath a grotto, arch'd for calm retreat,
Leads lengthening in the rock-Be this my feat.
Heat never enters here; but coolness reigns
O'er zephyrs, and diftilling, watery veins.
Secluded now I trace th' inftru&tive page,
And live o'er fcenes of many a backward age;
Through days, months, years, through time's
whole courfe I run,

And present stand where time itself begun.

Ye mighty dead, of juft, diftinguish'd fame, Your thoughts, (ye bright inftructors!) here I claim.

Here ancient knowledge opens nature's fprings;
Here truths hiftoric give the hearts of kings.
Hence contemplation learns white hours to find,
And labours virtue on th' attentive mind:
O lov'd retreat! thy joys content bestow,
Nor guilt, nor fhame, nor fharp repentance know.
What the fifth Charles long aim'd in power to see,
That happiness he found reserv'd in thee. [weeps,
Now let me change the page Here Tully
While in death's icy arms his Tullia fleeps,
His daughter dear!-Retir'd I fee him mourn,
By all the frenzy now of anguish torn.
Wild his complaint! Nor fweeter forrow's strains,
When Singer for Alexis loft complains.
Each friend condoles, expoftulatos, reproves;
More than a father raving Tully loves;

Or Salluft cenfures thus !--Unheeding blame,
He schemes a temple to his Tullia's name.
Thus o'er my hermit once did grief prevail,
Thus rofe Olympia's tomb, his moving tale,
The fighs, tears, frantic starts, that banish reft,
And all the bursting forrows of his breast.

But hark! a fudden power attunes the air!
Th' enchanting found enamour'd breezes bear;
Now low, now high, they fink, or lift the fong,
Which the cave echoes sweet, and fweet the creeks
prolong.

I liften'd, gaz'd, when, wondrous to behold! From ocean steam'd, a vapour gathering roll'd: A blue, round spot on the mid-roof it came, Spread broad, and redden'd into dazzling flame. Full orb'd it fhone, and dimm'd the fwimming fight,

While doubling objects danc'd with darkling light.
Amaz'd I flood!—amaz'd I ftill remain !
What earthly power this wonder can explain?
Gradual, at length, the luftre dies away:

My hermit friend! 'Tis he.-All hail! (he cries) I fee, and would alleviate, thy furprife.

:

The vanish'd meteor was heaven's message meant,
To warn thee hence I knew the high intent.
Hear then in this fequefter'd cave retir'd,
Departed faints converfe with men infpir'd.
'Tis facred ground; nor can thy mind endure,
Yet unprepar'd, an intercourse so pure.
Quick let us hence.---And now extend thy views
O'er yonder lawn; there find the heaven-born
mufe !

Or feek her, where she trufts her tuneful tale
To the mid, filent wood, or vocal vale; [fhades,
Where trees half check the light with trembling
Clofe in deep glooms, or open clear in glades;
Or where furrounding viftas far defcend,
The landscape varied at each leffening end;
She, only the can mortal thought refine,
And raise thy voice to vifitants divine.

CANTO V.

WE left the cave. Be fear (faid I) defy'd!

Virtue (for thou art virtue) is my guide.

By time-worn fteps a fteep afcent we gain, Whofe fummit yields a profpect o'er the plain. There, bench'd with turf, an oak our feat extends, Whofe top a verdant, branch'd pavilion bends. Viftas, with leaves, diverfify the fcene, Some pale, fome brown, and fome of lively green.

Now, from the full-grown day a beamy fhower Gleams on the lake, and gilds each gloffy flower. Gay infects fparkle in the genial blaze, Various as light, and countless as its rays: They dance on every ftream, and pictur'd play, Till, by the watery racer, fnatch'd away.

Now, from yon range of rocks, ftrong rays re

bound,

Doubling the day on flowery plains around :
King-cups beneath far-ftriking colours glance,
Bright as th' etherial glows the green expanse.
Gems of the field !---the topaz charms the fight,
Like thefe, effulging yellow ftreams of light.
From the fame rocks, fall rills with foften'd force,
Meet in yon mead, and well a river's fource.
Through her clear channel fhine her finny fhoals,
O'er fands, like gold, the liquid crystal rolls.
Dinim'd in yon coarfer moor, her charms decay,
And fhape, through ruftling reeds, a ruffled way.
Near willows fhort and bushy fhadows throw:
Now loft, the feems through nether tracts to flow;
Yet, at yon point, winds out in silver state,
Like virtue from a labyrinth of fate.
In lengthening rows, prone from the mountains,
The flocks their fleeces gliftening in the fun;
Her ftreams they feek, and, 'twixt her neighbour-

ing trees,

[run

Recline in various attitudes of cafe.
Where the herds fip, the little fcaly fry,
Swift from the fhore, in fcattering myriads fly.

Each livery'd cloud, that round th' horizon

glows,

The bee hums wanton in yon jasmine bower,
And circling fettles, and defpoils the flower.
Melodious there the plumy songsters meet,
And all charm'd echo from her arch'd retreat.
Neat polish'd manfions rife in prospect gay;
Time-batter'd towers frown awful in decay;
The fun plays glittering on the rocks and fpires,
And the lawn lightens with reflected fires.

Here mirth, and fancy's wanton train advance
And to light measures turn the swimming dance,
Sweet, flow-pac'd melancholy next appears,
Pompous in grief, and eloquent of tears.
Here meditation fhines, in azure drest,
All starr'd with gems; a fun adorns her creft.
Religion, to whofe lifted, raptur'd eyes
Seraphic hofts defcend from opening fkies
Beauty, who fways the heart, and charms the fight;
Whose tongue is mufic, and whose smile delight;
Whose brow is majesty; whose bofom peace;
Who bade creation be, and chaos cease; [vine
Whose breath perfumes the spring; whofe eye di-
Kindled the fun, and gave its light to fhine.
Here, in thy likenefs, fair Ophelia *, seen,
She throws kind luftre o'er th' enliven'd green.
Next her defcription, rob'd in various hues,
Invites attention from the penfive muse!
The mufe !---she comes! refin'd the paffions wait,
And precept, ever winning, wife, and great.
The mufe! a thousand spirits wing the air
(Once men, who made like her mankind their
care):

Enamour'd round her prefs th' inspiring throng, And fwell to ecftacy her folemn fong.

Thus in the dame each nobler grace we find, Fair Wortley's angel-accent, eyes, and mind. Whether her fight the dew-bright dawn furveys, The noon's dry heat, or evening's temper'd rays, The hours of ftorm, or calm, the gleby ground, The coral'd fea, gem'd rock, or sky profound, A Raphael's fancy animates each line, Each image ftrikes with energy divine; Bacon and Newton in her thoughts confpire; Nor fweeter than her voice is Handel's lyre. My hermit thus. She beckons us away: Oh, let us fwift the high beheft obey!

[croft,
Now through a lane, which mingling tracts have
The way unequal, and the landscape loft,
We rove. The warblers lively tunes effay,
The lark on wing, the linnet on the spray,
While mufic trembles in their fongful throats,
The bullfinch whiftles foft his flute-like notes.
The bolder blackbird fwells fonorous lays;
The varying thrush commands a tuneful maze;
Each a wild length of melody purfues; [coos.
While the foft murmuring, amorous wood-dove
And, when in fpring thefe melting mixtures flow,
The cuckoo fends her unifon of woe.

But as fmooth feas are furrow'd by a ftorm;
As troubles all our tranquil joys deform ;
So, loud through air, unwelcome noifes found,
And harmony's at once, in difcord, drown'd.
From yon dark cyprefs, croaks the raven's cry;
As diffonant the daw, jay, chattering pie:

The clamorous crows abandon'd carnage feek,
And the harsh owl fhrills out a sharpening thrick.
At the lane's end a high-lath'd gate's prefer'd,
To bar the trespass of a vagrant herd.
Faft by, a meagre mendicant we find,
Whofe ruffet rags hang fluttering in the wind:
Years bow his back, a ftaff fupports his tread,
And foft white hairs fhade thin his palfy'd head.
Poor wretch-Is this for charity his haunt?
He meets the frequent flight, and ruthless taunt.
On flaves of guilt oft fmiles the fquandering peer;
But paffing knows not common bounty here.
Vain thing in what doft thou fuperior fhine?
His our first fire: what race more ancient thine?
Lefs backward trac'd, he may his lineage draw
From men, whofe influence kept the world in awe:
Whofe worthlefs fons, like thee, perchance con-
fum'd

Their ample store, their line to want was doom'd,
So thine may perish, by the course of things,
While his, from beggars, re-afcend to kings.
Now, lazar, as thy hardships I peruse,
On my own ftate inftructed would I muse.
When I view greatnefs, I my lot lament;
Compar'd to thee, I fuatch fupreme content.
I might have felt, did heaven not gracious deal,
A fate, which I must mourn to fee thee feel.
But foft! the cripple our approach defcries,
And to the gate, though weak, officious hies.
I fpring preventive, and unbar the way,
Then, turning, with a smile of pity, say,
Here, friend!-this little copper alms receive,
Inftance of will, without the power to give.
Hermit, if here with pity we reflect, [glect?
How must we grieve, when learning meets ne-
When god-like fouls endure a mean restraint;
When generous will is curb'd by tyrant want?
He truly feels what to diftrefs belongs,
Who to his private, adds a people's wrongs;
Merit's a mark, at which difgrace is thrown,
And every injur'd virtue is his own.
Such their own pangs with patience here endure,
Yet there weep wounds, they are denied to cure ;
Thus rich in poverty, thus humbly great,
And, though deprefs'd, fuperior to their fate.
Minions in power, and mifers, 'mid their store,
Are mean in greatnefs, and in plenty poor.
What's power, or wealth? Were they not form'd
for aid,

A fpring for virtue, and from wrongs a fhade?
In power we favage tyranny behold,
And wily avarice owns polluted gold.
From golden fands her pride could Libya raife,
Could the, who fpreads no pafture, claim our
praise?
[breed;
Loath'd were her wealth, where rabid monsters
Where ferpents, pamper'd on her venom, feed,
No sheltery trees invite the wanderer's eye,
No fruits, no grain, no gums, her tracts supply;
On her vaft wilds no lovely prospects run;
But all lies barren, though beneath the fun.
My hermit thus. I know thy foul believes,
'Tis hard vice triumphs, and that virtue grieves;
Yet oft afiliction purifies the mind,

Were the whole known, that we uncouth fuppofe,
Doubtless, would beauteous fymmetry difclofe.
The naked cliff, that fingly rough remains,
In profpect dignifies the fertile plains;
Lead-colour'd clouds, in fcattering fragments feen,
Show, though in broken views, the blue ferene.
Severe diftreffes industry infpire;
Thus captive oft excelling arts acquire,
And boldly ftruggle through a state of fhame,
To life, eafe, plenty, liberty, and fame.

Sword-law has often Europe's balance gain'd,
And one red victory years of peace maintain'd.
We pass through want to wealth, through dismal
ftrife,

To calm content, through death to endless life.
Libya thou nam'ft---let Afric's waftes appear
Curft by thofe heats, that fructify the year;
Yet the fame funs her orange-groves befriend,
Where clustering globes in faining rows depend.
Here when fierce beams o'er withering plants are
roll'd.

There the green fruit seems ripen'd into gold.
Ev'n fcenes that ftrike with terrible surprise,
Still prove a God, juft, merciful, and wife.
Sad wintery blafts, that ftrip the autumn, bring
The milder beauties of a flowery fpring.
Ye fulphurous fires in jaggy lightnings break!
Ye thunders rattle, and ye nations shake!
Ye ftorms of riving flame the forest tear!
Deep crack the rocks! rent trees be whirl'd in air!
Reft at a stroke, fome stately fane we'll mourn;
Her tombs wide-fhatter'd, and her dead up-torn;
Were noxious fpirits not from caverns drawp,
Rack'd earth would foon in gulfs enormous yawn:
Then all were loft !---Or would we floating view
The baleful cloud, there would deftruction brew;
Plague, fever, frenzy, close-engendering lie,
Till these red ruptures clear the fullied fky.
Now a field opens to enlarge my thought,
In parcel'd tracts to various uíes wrought.
Here hardening ripencf the firft blooms behold,
There the last bloffoms fpring-like pride unfold.
Here (welling peafe on leafy ftalks are feen,
Mix'd flowers of red and azure fhine between;
Whofe weaving beauties, heighten'd by the fun,
In colour'd lanes along the furrows run.
There the next produce of a genial shower,
The beans fresh-bloffoms in a fpeckled flower;
Whole morning dews, when to the fun refign'd,
With undulating fweets embalm the wind,
Now daify plats of clover fquare the plain,
And part the bearded from the beardle's grain.
There fibrous flax with verdure binds the field,
Which on the loom fhall art-fpun labours yield.
The mulberry, in fair summer-green array'd,
Full in the midst starts up, a filky fhade.
For human talte the rich-ftain'd fruitage bleeds;
The leaf the filk-emitting reptile feeds.

As fwans their down, as flocks their fleeces leave,
Here worms for man their glofly entrails weave.
Hence to adorn the fair, in texture gay,
Sprigs, fruits, and flowers on figur'd veftments
play:

But industry prepares them oft to please

Now frequent, dufty gales offenfive blow, And o'er my fight a tanfient blindness throw. Windward we fhift. Near down th' etherial steep, The lamp of day hangs hovering o'er the deep. Dun fhades, in rocky fhapes up æther roll'd, Project long, fhaggy points, deep-ting'd with gold. Others take faint th' unripen'd cherry's dye, And paint aniufing landscapes on the eye Their blue-veil'd yellow, through a fky ferene, In fwelling mixture forms a floating green. Streak'd through white clouds a mild vermilion fhines,

And the breeze freshens, as the heat declines.

Yon crooked, funny roads change rifing views From brown, to fandy red, and chalky hues. One mingled scene another quick fucceeds, Men, chariots, teams, yok'd iteers, and prancing feeds,

Which climb, defcend, and, as loud whips refound, Stretch, fweat, and fmoke along unequal ground. On winding Thames, reflecting radiant beams, When boats, fhips, barges mark the roughen'd

ftreams.

This way, and that, they different points purfue;
So mix the motions, and fo fhifts the view,
While thus we throw around our gladden'd eyes,
The gifts of heaven in gay profufion rife;
Trees rich with gums, and fruits; with jewels
rocks:

Plains with flowers, herbs, and plants, and beeves, and flocks;

Mountains with mines; with oak, and cedar, woods;

Quarries with marble, and with fifh the floods.
In darkening fpots, mid fields of various dyes,
Tilth new manur'd, or naked fallow lies.
Near uplands fertile pride enclos'd difplay,
The green grafs yellowing into feentful hay.
And thick-fet hedges fence the full-ear'd corn,
And berries blacken on the virid thorn.
Mark in yon heath oppos'd the cultur'd fcene,
Wild thyme, pale box, and firs of darker green.
The native strawberry red-ripening grows,
By nettles guarded, as by thorns the rofe.
There nightingales in unprun'd copfes build,
In fhaggy furzes lies the hare conceal'd.
'Twixt ferns and thiftles, unfown flowers amufe,
And form a lucid chace of various hues;
Many half-grey with duft: confus'd they lie,
Scent the rich year, and lead the wandering eye.
Contemplative, we tread the flowery plain,
The mule preceding with her heavenly train.
When, lo! the mendicant, fo late behind,
Strange view! now journeying in our front we
find!
[mands;

And yet a view, more frange, our heed de-
Touch'd by the mufe's wand transform'd he stands.
O'er skin late wrinkled, inftant beauty fpreads;
The late-dimm'd eye, a vivid luftre fheds;
Hairs, once fo thin, now graceful locks decline;
And rags now chang'd in regal veftments fhine.

The hermit thus. In him the BARD behold, Once feen by midnight's lamp in winter's cold; The BARD, whofe want fo multiplied his Woes

To fecret ferment is each heart refign'd;
Sufpicion hovers in each clouded mind;
They jar, accus'd accufe, revil'd revile,
And wrath to wrath oppose, and guile to guile;
Wrangling they part, themselves themselves be-
tray;

Each dire device starts naked into day;
They feel confufion in the van with fear;
They feel the king of terrors in the rear.

Of these were three by different motives fir'd,
Ambition one, and one revenge infpir'd.
The third, O Mammon, was thy meaner flave;
Thou idol feldom of the great and brave!

Florio, whofe life was one continued feast,
His wealth diminish'd, and his debts increas'd,
Vain pomp, and equipage, his low defires,
Who ne'er to intellectual bliss aspires;
He, to repair by vice what vice has broke,
Durft with bold treafons judgment's rod provoke.
His ftrength of mind, by luxury half diffolv'd,
Ill brooks the woe, where deep he stands involv'd.
He weeps, stamps wild, and to and fro now flies;
Now wrings his hands, and sends unmanly cries,
Arraigns his judge, affirms unjust he bleeds,
And now recants, and now for mercy pleads;
Now blames affociates, raves with inward ftrife,
Upbraids himself; then thinks alone on life.
He rolls red fwelling, tearful eyes around,
Sore fmites his breast, and finks upon the ground.
He wails, he quite defponds, convulfive lies,
Shrinks from the fancied axe, and thinks he dies:
Revives, with hope inquires, ftops fhort with
fear,

Entreats ev'n flattery, nor the worst will hear;
The worst, alas, his doom!-What friend replies?
Each speaks with fhaking head, and down-caft eyes.
One filence breaks, then paufes, drops a tear;
Nor hope affords, nor quite confirms his fear;
But what kind friendship part referves unknown
Comes thundering in his keeper's furly tone.
Enough ftruck through and through, in ghaftly
ftare,

He stands transfix'd, the ftatue of defpair;
Nor aught of life, nor aught of death he knows,
Till thought returns, and brings return of woes:
Now pours a form of grief in gufhing streams:
That paft-collected in himself he seems,
And with forc'd smile retires-his latent thought
Dark, horrid, as the prifon's difmal vault.

If with himself at variance ever-wild,
With angry heaven how (tands he reconcil'd?
No penitential orifons arife;

Nay, he obtefts the juftice of the kies.

Not for his guilt, for fentenc'd life he moans;
His chains rough-clanking to difcordant groans,
To bars harth-grating, heavy-creaking doors,
Hoarfe echoing walls, and hollow-ringing floors,
To thoughts more diffonant, far, far lefs kind,
One anarchy, one chaos of the mind.

At length, fatigu'd with grief, on earth he lies:
But foon as fleep weighs down th' unwilling eyes,
Glad liberty appears, no damps annoy,
Treafon fucceeds, and all transforms to joy.
Proud palaces their glittering ftores difplay:

What gold what gems!-he ftrains to feize the

prize;

Quick from his touch diffolv'd, a cloud it flies.
Confcious he cries--and muft I wake to weep?
Ah, yet return, return, delusive sleep!
Sleep comes; but liberty no more:-Unkind,
The dudgeon glooms hang heavy on his mind.
Shrill winds are heard, and howling demons call;
Wide-flying portals feem unhing'd to fall:
Then close with fudden claps; a dreadful din!
He starts, wakes, storms, and all is hell within.
His genius flies-reflects he now on prayer?
Alas! bad fpirits turn those thoughts to air.
What fhall he next? What, ftraight relinquifa
breath,

To bar a public, juft, though fhameful death?
Rafh, horrid thought! yet now afraid to live,
Murderous he strikes-may heaven the deed for-
give!

Why had he thus false spirit to rebel?
And why not fortitude to fuffer well?
Were his fuccefs, how terrible the blow!
And it recoils on him eternal woe,
Heaven this affliction then for mercy meant,
That a good end might clofe a life mifpent.

Where no kind lips the hallow'd dirge refound,
Far from the compafs of yon facred ground;
Full in the centre of three meeting ways,
Stak'd through he lies.-Warn'd let the wicked
gaze.

Near yonder fane, where mifery fleeps in peace, Whofe fpire faft-leffens, as these fhades increase, Left to the north, whence oft brew'd tempefts roll, Tempefts, dire emblems, Cofmo, of thy foul! There mark that Cofmo, much for guile renown'd! His grave by unbid plants of poifon crown'd. When out of power, through him the public good, So ftrong his factious tribe, fufpended stood. In power, vindictive actions were his aim, And patriots perifh'd by th' ungenerous flame. If the beft caufe he in the fenate chofe, Ev'n right in him from fome wrong motive rofe. The bad he loath'd, and would the weak defpife; Yet courted for dark ends, and fhunn'd the wife. When ill his purpose, eloquent his ftrain; His malice had a look, and voice humane. His fmile, the fignal of fome vile intent, A private poniard, or empoifon'd fcent Proud, yet to popular applaufe a flave; No friend he honour'd, and no foe forgave. His boons unfrequent, or unjuft to need; The hire of guilt, of infamy the meed; But, if they chanc'd on learned worth to fall, Bounty in him was oftentation all,

;

No true benevolence his thought fublimes,
His nobleft actions are illuftrious crimes,
Fine parts, which virtue might have rank'd with
fame,

Enhance his guilt, and magnify his fhame.
When parts in probity in man combine,
In wifdom's eye, how charming mut he fhine!
Let him, lefs happy, truth at least impart
And what he wants in genius bear in heart.

Cofmo, as death draws nigh, no more conceals