In thofe unfading islands of the bleft,

Where facred bards abide. Hail, honour'd Nymphs;
Thrice hail. for you the Cyrenaïc shell,

Behold, I touch, revering. To my songs

Be present ye with favourable feet,

And all profaner audience far remove.

HE wife and great of every clime,

Through all thy spacious walks of Time,

Where'er the Muse her power display'd,

With joy have liften'd and obey'd.

For, taught of heaven, the facred Nine
Persuasive numbers, forms divine,

To mortal fenfe impart :

They beft the foul with glory fire;

They nobleft counfels, boldeft deeds infpire;

And high o'er Fortune's rage inthrone the fixed heart.

I. 2. Nor

I. 2.

Nor lefs prevailing is their charm
The vengeful bofom to disarm;
To melt the proud with human woe,
And prompt unwilling tears to flow.
Can wealth a power like this afford?
Can Cromwell's arts, or Marlborough's sword,
An equal empire claim ?

No, HASTINGS. Thou my words wilt own :
Thy breaft the gifts of every Mufe hath known;
Nor fhall the giver's love difgrace thy noble name.
I. 3.

The Mufe's awful art,

And the fair function of the poet's tongue,
Ne'er fhalt thou blush to honour; to affert
From all that scorned vice or flavish fear hath fung.
Nor fhall the blandifhment of Tufcan ftrings
Warbling at will in pleasure's myrtle bower;
Nor fhall the bafer notes to Celtic kings
By lying minstrels paid in evil hour,

Move Thee to fpurn the heavenly Mufe's reign.
A different ftrain,

And other themes

From her prophetic fhades and hallow'd streams
(Thou well can'ft witness) meet the purged ear:
Such, as when Greece to her immortal fhell
Rejoicing liften'd, godlike founds to hear;

To hear the fweet inftructress tell

(While

(While men and heroes throng'd around)
How life its nobleft ufe may find,
How beft for freedom be refign'd;

And how, by glory, virtue shall be crown'd.
II. 1.

Such was the * Chian father's strain
To many a kind domestic train,
Whofe pious hearth and genial bowl

Had cheer'd the reverend pilgrim's foul:
When, every hospitable rite

With equal bounty to requite,

He ftruck his magic ftrings;

And pour'd fpontaneous numbers forth,

And feiz'd their ears with tales of ancient worth,
And fill'd their mufing hearts with vast heroic things.
II. 2.

Now oft, where happy fpirits dwell,
Where yet he tunes his charming fhell,
Oft near him, with applauding hands,
The genius of his country ftands.
To liftening gods he makes him known,
That man divine, by whom were fown

The feeds of Græcian fame :

Who first the race with freedom fir'd ;

From whom Lycurgus Sparta's fons inspir'd ;

From whom Platean palms and Cyprian trophies came.

VOL. VI.

* Homer.

B

II. 3. O

II. 3.

O nobleft, happiest age!

When Ariftides rul'd, and Cimon fought;
When all the generous fruits of Homer's page
Exulting Pindar faw to full perfection brought.
O Pindar, oft fhalt thou be hail'd of me:
Not that Apollo fed thee from his fhrine;
Not that thy lips drank sweetness from the bee;
Nor yet that, ftudious of thy notes divine,
Pan danc'd their measure with the fylvan throng;
But that thy fong

Was proud to unfold

What thy base rulers trembled to behold;
Amid corrupted Thebes was proud to tell
The deeds of Athens and the Perfian fhame :
Hence on thy head their impious vengeance fell.
But thou, O faithful to thy fame,

The Mufe's law didst rightly know ;
That who would animate his lays,
And other minds to virtue raise,

Muft feel his own with all her spirit glow.

Alas! not one polluted bard,

No, not the ftrains that Mincius heard,

Or Tibur's hills reply'd,

Dare to the Mufe's ear afpire ;

Save that, inftructed by the Græcian lyre,

With freedom's ancient notes their shameful task they hide. III. 2.

Mark, how the dread Pantheon ftands,

Amid the domes of modern hands:

Amid the toys of idle state,

Hów fimply, how feverely great!

Then turn, and, while each western clime
Prefents her tuneful fons to Time,

So mark thou Milton's name;

And add, "Thus differs from the throng "The spirit which inform'd thy aweful song,

"Which bade thy potent voice protect thy country's fame." III. 3.

Yet hence barbaric zeal

His memory with unholy rage pursues

While from thefe arduous cares of public weal

She bids each bard begone, and reft him with his Mufe.
O fool! to think the man, whofe ample mind

Muft grafp at all that yonder ftars survey ;
Muft join the noblest form of every kind,
The world's most perfect image to display,
Can e'er his country's majesty behold,

Unmov'd or cold !

B 2

O fool!