Along the river and the paved brook,
Afcend the cheerful breezes: hail'd of bards
Who, faft by learned Cam, the Mantuan lyre
Sollicit; nor unwelcome to the youth
Who on the heights of Tybur, all inclin'd
O'er rushing Anio, with a pious hand
The reverend scene delineates, broken fanes,
Or tombs, or pillar'd aqueducts, the pomp
Of ancient Time; and haply, while he scans
The ruins, with a filent tear revolves
The fame and fortune of imperious Rome.
You too, O Nymphs, and your unenvious aid
The rural powers confefs; and still prepare
For you their grateful treasures. Pan commands,
Oft as the Delian king with Sirius holds
The central heavens, the father of the grove
Commands his Dryads over your abodes
To spread their deepest umbrage. well the God
Remembereth how indulgent ye fupplied
Your genial dews to nurse them in their prime.
Pales, the pasture's queen, where'er ye stray,
Pursues your steps, delighted; and the path
With living verdure clothes. Around your haunts
The laughing Chloris, with profufeft hand,
Throws wide her blooms, her odours. Still with you Pomona feeks to dwell: and o'er the lawns,
And o'er the vale of Richmond, where with Thames Ye love to wander, Amalthea pours
Well-pleas'd the wealth of that Ammonian horn,
Her dower; unmindful of the fragrant isles
Nyfæan or Atlantic. Nor can't thou,
(Albeit oft, ungrateful, thou doft mock
The beverage of the fober Naiad's urn,
O Bromius, O Lenæan) nor can'st thou
Difown the powers whose bounty, ill repaid,
With nectar feeds thy tendrils. Yet from me,'
Yet, blameless Nymphs, from my delighted lyre,
Accept the rites your bounty well may claim;
Nor heed the fcoffings of the Edonian band.
For better praise awaits you. Thames, your fire,
As down the verdant slope your duteous rills
Descend, the tribute stately Thames receives,
Delighted; and your piety applauds ;
And bids his copious tide roll on secure,
For faithful are his daughters; and with words
Aufpicious gratulates the bark which, now
His banks forfaking, her adventurous wings
Yields to the breeze, with Albion's happy gifts
Extremeft ifles to blefs. And oft at morn, When Hermes, from Olympus bent o'er earth To bear the words of Jove, on yonder hill Stoops lightly-failing; oft intent your springs He views and waving o'er fome new-born stream His bleft pacific wand, " And yet," he cries, "Yet," cries the fon of Maia, "though reclufe "And filent be your stores, from you, fair Nymphs, "Flows wealth and kind fociety to men.
By you my function and my honour'd name
"Do I poffefs; while o'er the Boetic vale,
"Or through the towers of Memphis, or the palms "By facred Ganges water'd, I conduct
"The English merchant: with the buxom fleece
"Of fertile Ariconium while I clothe
"Sarmatian kings; or to the household Gods
"Of Syria, from the bleak Cornubian shore,
"Dispense the mineral treasure which of old
"Sidonian pilots fought, when this fair land
"Was yet unconscious of thofe generous arts
"Which wife Phoenicia from their native clime
"Transplanted to a more indulgent heaven."
Such are the words of Hermes: fuch the praise,
O Naiads, which from tongues cœleftial waits
Your bounteous deeds. From bounty iffueth power:
And those who, fedulous in prudent works,
Relieve the wants of nature, Jove repays
With generous wealth and his own feat on earth,
Fit judgments to pronounce, and curb the might
Of wicked men. Your kind unfailing urns
Not vainly to the hospitable arts
Of Hermes yield their store. For, O ye Nymphs,
Hath he not won the unconquerable queen
Of arms to court your friendship? You the owns
The fair affociates who extend her fway
Wide o'er the mighty deep; and grateful things
Of
you fhe uttereth, oft as from the shore
Of Thames, or Medway's vale, or the green banks
Of Vecta, fhe her thundering navy leads
To Calpe's foaming channel, or the rough
Cantabrian coaft; her aufpices divine
Imparting to the fenate and the prince
Of Albion, to dismay barbaric kings,
The Iberian, or the Celt. The pride of kings
Was ever fcorn'd by Pallas: and of old
Rejoic'd the virgin, from the brazen prow
Of Athens o'er Ægina's gloomy furge,
To drive her clouds and ftorms; o'erwhelming all
The Perfian's promis'd glory, when the realms
Of Indus and the foft Ionian clime,
When Lybia's torrid champain and the rocks
Of cold Imaüs join'd their fervile bands,
To fweep the fons of liberty from earth.
In vain Minerva on the brazen prow
Of Athens ftood, and with the thunder's voice
Denounc'd her terrours on their impious heads,
And shook her burning Ægis. Xerxes faw:
From Heracleum, on the mountain's height
Thron'd in his golden car, he knew the fign
Cœleftial; felt unrighteous hope forfake
His faltering heart, and turn'd his face with fhame.
Hail, ye who fhare the ftern Minerva's power;
Who arm the hand of liberty for war:
And give, in fecret, the Britannic name
To awe contending monarchs: yet benign,
Yet mild of nature: to the works of peace
More prone, and lenient of the many ills
Which wait on human life. Your gentle aid
Hygeia well can witnefs; fhe who faves,
From poisonous cates and cups of pleasing bane,
The wretch devoted to the entangling fnares
Of Bacchus and of Comus. Him fhe leads
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