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Nor, yet, for the ravage of winter I mourn; "Kind nature the embryo bloffom will fave-"But, when fhall fpring vifit the mouldering urn? "O! when fhall it dawn on the night of the grave ?"


'Twas thus, by the glare of falfe fcience betray'd,
That leads, to bewilder; and dazzles, to blind.
My thoughts wont to roam, from fhade onward to fhade,
Destruction before me, and forrow behind.

"O! pity, great Father of light!" then I cry'd,


Thy creature, who fain would not wander from thee. "Lo! humbled in duft, I relinquish my pride': "From doubt, and from darkness, thou only canft free."

And darkness, and doubt, are now flying away,
No longer I roam, in conjecture forlorn.
So breaks on the traveller, faint, and aftray,

The bright and the balmy effulgence of morn.
See truth, love, and mercy, in triumph defcending,
And nature all glowing in Eden's first bloom!
On the cold cheek of death, fmiles and rofes are blending,
And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb!





IFF'RENT minds


Incline to diff'rent objects. One pursues.
The vaft alone, the wonderful, the wild:
Another fighs for harmony, and grace,

And gentleft beauty.-Hence, when lightning fires
The arch of heav'n, and thunders rock the ground;


When furious whirlwinds rend the howling air;
And ocean, groaning from the lowest bed,
Heaves his tempeftuous billows to the fky:
Amid the mighty uproar, while below
The nations tremble, Shakespeare looks abroad
From fome high cliff, fuperior, and enjoys
The elemental war. But Waller longs,
All on the margin of fome flow'ry ftream,
To spread his careless limbs, amid the cool.
Of plantane fhades; and, to the lift'ning deer,
The tale of lighted vows, and love's disdain,
Refound, foft warbling all the live-long day.
Confenting zephir fighs; the weeping rill
Joins in his plairt, melodious; mute the groves;
And hill and dale, with all their ecchoes mourn.—
Such, and fo various, are the tastes of men.

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ATHERS! we once again are met in council.
Cæfar's approach has fummon'd us together,
And Rome attends her fate from our refolves.
How fhall we treat this bold afpiring man?
Succefs ftill follows him, and backs his crimes.
Pharfalia gave him Rome. Egypt has fince
Receiv'd his yoke, and the whole Nile is Cæfar's.
Why should I mention Juba's overthrow,
And Scipio's death? Numidia's burning fands
Still fmoke with blood. 'Tis time we should decree

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What courfe to take.

Our foe advances on us,

And envies us ev'n Lybia's fultry deferts.
Fathers, pronounce your thoughts. Are they ftill fix'd
To hoid it out and fight it to the laft?

Or, are your hearts fubdu'd, at length, and wrought,
By time and ill fuccefs, to a fubmiflion
Sempronius, fpeak.



My voice is ftill for war.

Gods! can a Roman fenate long debate
Which of the two to choose, flavery or death?
No-Let us rife at once; gird on our fwords;
And, at the head of our remaining troops,
Attack the foe; break through the thick array
Of his throng'd legions; and charge home upon him.
Perhaps, fome arm, more lucky than the rest,
May reach his heart, and free the world from bondage.
Rife, Fathers, rife! 'Tis Rome demands your help:
Rife, and revenge her flaughter'd citizens,

Or share their fate! The corpfe of half her senate
Manure the fields of Theffaly, while we
Sit here, delib'rating in cold debates,

If we should facrifice our lives to honour,
Or wear them out in fervitude and chains.
Roufe up, for fhame! Our brothers of Pharfalia
Point at their wounds, and cry aloud-to battle!
Great Pompey's fhade complains that we are flow;
And Scipio's ghoft walks unreveng'd amongst us!

LET not a torrent of impetuous zeal
Tranfport thee thus beyond the bounds of reafon.
True fortitude is feen in great exploits,


That juftice warrants, and that wisdom guides:
All elfe, is tow'ring frenzy and distraction.
Are not the lives of thofe who draw the fword
In Rome's defence, entrusted to our care?
Should we thus lead them to a field of flaughter,
Might not th' impartial world, with reason, say,
We lavished, at our deaths, the blood of thousands,
To grace our fall, and make our ruin glorious?—
Lucius, we next would know what's your opinion.


My thoughts, I must confess, are turn'd on peace.
Already have our quarrels fill'd the world
With widows and with orphans. Scythia mourns
Our guilty wars, and earth's remotest regions
Lie half unpeopled by the feuds of Rome.
'Tis time to fheath the fword, and spare mankind.
It is not Cæfar, but the gods, my fathers!
The gods declare against us, and repel

Our vain attempts. To urge the foe to battle,
(Prompted by blind revenge and wild defpair)
Were to refuse th' awards of Providence,
And not to reft in Heaven's determination,
Already have we fhewn our love to Rome :
Now, let us fhew fubmiffion to the gods.
We took up arms not to revenge ourselves,
But free the commonwealth. When this end fails,
Arms have no further ufe. Our country's caufe,

That drew our fwords, now wrefts 'em from our hands,
And bids us not delight in Roman blood
What men could do,

Unprofitably fhed.
Is done already.
If Rome must fall, that we are innocent.

Heaven and earth will witness,




LET us appear, not rash, nor diffident.
Immod'rate valour fwells into a fault;
And fear, admitted into public councils,
Betrays like treafon. Let us fhun 'em both.-
Fathers, I cannot fee that our affairs

Are grown thus defp'rate. We have bulwarks round us.
Within our walls, are troops inured to toil
In Afric heats and season'd to the fun.
Numidia's fpacious kingdom lies behind us,
Ready to rife at its young prince's call.
While there is hope, do not distrust the gods:
But wait, at leaft, till Cæfar's near approach
Force us to yield. 'Twill never be too late,
To fue for chains, and own a conqueror.
Why should Rome fall a moment ere her time ?
No-let us draw our term of freedom out
In its full length, and fpin it to the last:
So fhall we gain ftill one day's liberty.
And, let me perish; but, in Cato's judgment,
A day, an hour, of virtuous liberty,
Is worth a whole eternity of bondage.

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O faid, he, o'er his fcepter bowing, rofe From the right hand of glory, where he fat ; And the third facred morn began to fhine,

Dawning thro' heav'n. Forth 'd, with whirlwind



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