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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 shall it dawn on the night of the grave ?” 'Twas thus, by the glare of falfe science betray'd, That leads, to bewilder; and dazzles, to blind. My thoughts wont to roam, from shade onward to shade, 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 darknefs, 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!
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 sky:
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 fpread his carelefs 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.
SPEECHES IN THE ROMAN SENATE.
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 aspiring 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 fhould I mention Juba's overthrow,
And Scipio's death? Numidia's burning fands
"Still fmoke with blood. 'Tis time we should decree
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 last?
Or, are your hearts fubdu'd, at length, and wrought,
By time and ill fuccefs, to a fubmiflion ;-
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 ari, more lucky than the reft,
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 fhould 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 reason.
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 those 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, fay,
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 confefs, 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 remoteft 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.
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
Unprofitably shed. What men could do,
Is done already. Heaven and earth will witness,
If Rome must fall, that we are innocent.
LET us appear, not rafh, 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 see 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 feafon'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 diftruft the gods:
But wait, at leaft, till Cæfar's near approach
"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 spin 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.
OVERTHROW OF THE REBEL ANGELS.
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 shine,
Dawning thro' heav'n. Forth f'd, with whirlwind