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philosophy (London 1728, 8) vorgesetzt, ist. Er widmete sich den Handelsgeschäften, und erwarb sich die dazu erforderlichen Kenntnisse in ihrem ganzen Umfange. Dessen un. geachtet verliess ihn seine Neigung zu den schönen Wissenschaften nicht, und er gehört zu den wenigen von den Mtesen begünstigten Kaufleuten, 1737 gab er seinen Leonidas heraus (London 8.), dem, Range' nach das zweite Heldengedicht der Engländer, und um so merkwürdiger, und schätzbarer, da es ohne Brihülfe des Wunderbaien Interesse erreg! Eine Zergliederung der mannigfaltigen Schönheiten desselben suche man

in Dr. Peinberton's observations on, poetry, especially epic; occasioned by the lale poem upon Leonidas, London 1738, 8, und in dem Forbericht zu des Herrn Hof. ruths Ebert meisterhafter Übersetzung. Hamburg 1775 8. 733 gab Glover ein Gedicht: London, or the progress

of commerce, heraus, das nebst seiner Ballade, Admiral Hosier's ghost, einen nicht unbetrücktlichen Einfluss auf die Handelsbegebenheiten dieses Jahrs hatte, indem er darin der Nation das (Inrecht fühlbar zu machen suchte, welches Spanien dem Englischen Kommerz zufügtr. 1753 erschien sein Trauerspiel Boadicea, welches einigemal mit Beifall aufgeführt worden ist. 1761 gab er seine Medea heraus, ein nach Art der griechischen Dramen mit Chören versehenes Trauerspiel. Nach dem Regierungsantritt des jetztigen Königs wurde er zum Par. liamentsgliede für die Stadt Weymonth gewählt, und zeichnete sich in dieser Qualität bei mehr als einer Gelegenheit durch seine kraftvolle und überzeugende Beredsamkeit aus. 1770 vollendete er seine Umarbeitung des Leonidas (London, 2 Vol. 12). Er wurde itzt häufig in Geschäften der Londoner Kaufinannschaft gebraucht, die ein unbedingtes Zutrauen zu seiner Redlichkeit hegte. In den letztern Jahren seines Lebens arbeitete er an einem neuen epischen Gedicht, Atheniad, das gewissermassen als Fortsetzung des Leonidas angesehen werden kann, und 1789 von seiner Tochter Mrs. Hal sat in 3 F'ol. 12. herausgegeben worden ist. Er starb der 25sten November 1785. Lebensnachrichten von ihm findet man im Januarstück des European Magazine für 1756, und im roten Bande der Andersonschen Dichtersammlung. Hier findet man auch einige seiner Werke, als die 12 Gesänge des Leonidas, die Gedichte on Sir Isaac Newton, London und die Ballade Admiral Hosier's Ghost.

INTERVIBW OL. LEONIDAS

WITH

NLS QUEEN *).

But to his home Leonidas retir'd.
There, calm in secret thought he thus explor'd
His mighty soul, while nature in his breast .
A short emotion rais'd. What sudden grief,
What cold reluctance now unmans my heart,
And whispers that I fear? – Can death dismay
Leonidas? Death, often seen and scorn'd,
When clad most dreadful in the battle's front?
Or to relinquish life in all its pride,
With all my honours blooming round my head,
Repines my soul, or rather to forsake,
Eternally forsake my weeping wife,
My infant offspring, and my faithful friends ?
Leonidas awake! Shall these withstand
The public safety? Hark, thy country calls.
O sacred voice, I hear thee! At the sound,
Reviving virtue brightens in my heart;
Fear vanishes before her. Death, receive
My unreluctant hand. Immortal fame,
Thou too, attendant on my righteous fall,
With wings unweary'd wilt protect my tomb.

His virtuous soul tbe hero had conärid,
When Agis enter'd. If my tardy lips
(He thus began) have hitierto forborne
To bring their grateful tribute of applause,
Which, as a Spartan, to thy worth 1.owe,
Forgive the brother of thy queen. Her grief
Detain'd me from thee. O unequall'd man,
Though Lacedæmon call thy prime regard,
Forget not her, sole vieriin of distress,
Amid the gen'ral safety! To assuage
Such pain, fraternal tenderness is weak.

The king embrac'd lim, and reply'd : O best,
O dearest

man,
conceive not,

but
my

soul
To her is fondly bound, from whom my days
Their largest share of happiness deriv'd!
Can I, who yield my breath, lest others mouro,

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) Leonidas, Book I. v. 215

385.

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Lest thoảsands should be 'wretched when she pines,
More lov'd than any, though less dear than all,
Can I neglect her griefs? In future days,
If thou with grateful memory record
My name and fate, o Sparta , pass not this
Unheeded by. The life, for thee resign'd,
Knew, not a painful hour'to tire my soul,
Nor were they common joys I left behind.

So spake the patriot, and his heart o'erflow'd
In tend'rest passion. Then in eager haste
The faithful partner of his bed be sought.
Amid her weeping children sat the queen,
Immoveable and mute. Her swimming eyes
Bent on the earth. Her arms were folded o'er
Her lab'ring bosom, blotted with her tears.
As when a dusky mist involves the sky,
The moon through all the dreary vapours spreads
The radiánt" vesture of her silver light
O'er the dull face of nature ; so the queen
Divinely graceful shining through her grief,
Brighten'd the cloud .of woe. Her lord approach'd.-
Soon, as in gentlest phrase his well-known voice
Awak'd her drooping spirit, for a time
Cåre was appeas'd. She lifts her languid head,
She gives ihis utt'rance to her tender thoughts :

O thou, whose presence is my sole delight;
If thus, Leonidas, thy tooks and words
Can check the rapid current of distress,
How am I mark'd for misery! How long!
When of life's journey less than half is passid,
And I must hear those calming sounds no more,
Nor see that face, which makes affliction smile!

This said, returning grief o'erwhelms her breast.
Her orphan children, her devoted lord,
Pale, bleeding, breathless on the field of death,
Her ever

er-during solitude of woe,
All rise in mingled horror to her sight,
When thus in bitt'rest agony she spake:

whither art thou going from my arms?
Shall I no more behold thee! -Oh! no more
In conquest clad, o'erspread with glorious dust,
Wilt thou return to greet thy native soil,

my

And find thy dwelling joyful! Ah! too brave,
Why wouidst thoa' hurry to the dreary gates
Of ddarlı, uscallid Another might have bled,
Like thee a victim of Alcides' race,
Less dear to all, and Sparta been secure,
Now ev'ry eye with mine is drown'd in tears;
All with these babes lament a father lost.
Alas, how heavy is our lot of pain !
Our sighs must last, when ev'ry other breast
Exults in safety, purchas'd by our loss.
Thou didst not heed our anguish didst not seek
One
pause,

for instruction how to bear Thy endless absence, or like thee to die.

Unutterable sorrow, here confin'd
Her voice. These words Leonidas return'd:

I see, I share thy 'agony. My soul
Ne'er knew how. warm the prevalence of love,
How strong a parent's feelings, till this hour;
Nor was she once insensible to thee
In all her fervour to assert my fame.
How had the honours of my name been stain'd
By hesitation? Shameful life preferr'd
By an inglorious colleague would bave left
No choice, but what were infamy - to shun,
Not virtue to accept? Then deem no more,
That of thy love regardless, or thy tears,
I rush, uncall'd to death. The voice of fate,
The gods, my fame, my country press my doom.

05! thou dear mourner! wherefore swells afresh That ride of woe? Leonidas must fall. Alas! far freavier misery impends O'er thee and these, if, softeu'd by thy tears, I shamefully refuse to yield that breath, Which justice, glory, liberty, and heav'n Claim for my country, for my sons, and thee. Think on my long unalter'd love. Reflect On my paternal fondness. Hath my heart E'er known a pause in love, or pious care? Now shall that care, that tenderness be shown Most warm, most faithful. When thy husband dies For Lacedæmon's safety, thou wilt share, Thơu and thy children the diffusive good.

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I am selected by th' immortal gods
To save a people. Should any timid heart
That sacred charge abandon, I should plunge
Thee 100 in shame, in sorrow. Thou wouldst mourn
With Lacedæmon; wouldst with her sustain
Thy painful portion of oppression's weight.
Behold thy sons now worthy of their name,
Their Spartan birik. Their growing bloom would pin.
Depress'il, dishonour'd, and their youthful hearts
Beat at the sound of liberty no more.
On their own merit, and their father's fame,
When he the Spartan freedom bath corfirm'd,
Lefore the world illustrious will they rise,
Their country's bulwark, and their mother's joy.

Here paus'd tbe patriot. In religious awe
Griet heard the voice of virtue. No complaint
The solemn silence broke. Tears ceas d to flow:
Ceas'ed for a moment soon again to streain.
Behold, in arins before the palace drawir,
His brave coinpanions of the war demand
Their leader's presence. Then her griefs renew'd,
Surpassing utt'rance, intercept her sighs.
Each acrent freezes on bir falt'ring 'tongue.
In speechless anguish on the hero's breast,
She siuks. On ev'ry side lis children press,
Hang on his koees, and kiss his honour'd hand.
His soul no longer struggles to confine
Her agitation. Dowo the hero's cheek,
Downdlows the manly sorrow.

Great in woe
Awit his children, who enclose him round,
He stands indulging tenderness and love
In graceful tears, when thus with lifted eyes
Address d' to heav'n: Thou ever- living pow'r,
Look down propitious, sire of gods and men;
O to this faithini won.211, whose desert
May claim thy favour, grant the hours of peace!
And thou, iny bright forefather, seed of Jove,
O Hercuins, neglect not these thy race!
But since that spirit, 1 from thee derive,
Transports me from them to resistless fate,
Be thou their guardian! Terch them like thyself

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