And yet this strange, this fudden flight,
From gloomy cares to gay delight,
This fickleness, so light and vain,
In life's delufive tranfient dream,
Where men nor things are what they feem,
Is all the real good we gain.
Tranflated from the GREEK.
I. To the MUSE.
END thy voice, celeftial maid:
Through thy vocal grove convey'd,
Let a fudden call from thee
Wake my foul to harmony.
Raife, oh! raife the hallow'd ftrain,
Mistress of the tuneful train,
And thou facred fource of light,
Author of our mystic rite,
Thou whom erft Latona bore
On the fea-girt Delian fhore,
Join the fav'ring Mufe, and fhed
All thy influence on my head.
Let earth and feas, and winds attend;
Ye birds awhile your notes fufpend;
Be hufh'd each found; behold him nigh,
Parent of facred harmony;
He comes! his unfhorn hair behind
Loofe floating to the wanton wind.
Hail, fire of day, whofe rofy car,
Through the pathless fields of air,
By the winged courfers borne,
Opes the eyelids of the morn.
Thou, whofe locks their light difplay
O'er the wide ætherial way,
Wreathing their united rays
Into one promifcuous blaze,
Under thy all-feeing eye
Earth's remoteft corners lie
While, in thy repeated course,
Iffuing from thy fruitful fource,
Floods of fire inceffant stray,
Streams of everlasting day.
Round thy sphere the ftarry throng,
Varying fweet their ceafelefs fong,
(While their vivid flames on high
Deck the clear untroubled iky,)
Drives her milkwhite heifers on,.. c... ont vu
And with meafur'd pace and even
Glides around the vaft of heaven,
Journeying with unwearied force,
And rejoicing in her courfe.
Time attends with fwift career,
And forms the circle of the year.
HI. TO NEMESIS.
Nemefis, whofe dreaded weight
Turns the fcale of human fate; 31
On whose front black terrors dwell, of
Daughter dire of Juftice, hail!
Thou whofe adamantine rein
Curbs the arrogant and vain.
Wrong and force before thee die,
Envy fhuns thy fearching eye,
And, her fable wings outfpread,
Flies to hide her hated head.
Where thy wheel with reflels round
Runs along th' unprinted ground,
Humbled there, at thy decree,
Human greatnefs boys the knee,
Thine it is unfeen to trace
Step by step each mortal's pace:
Thine the fons of Pride to check,
And to bend the stubborn neck,
'Till our lives directed ftand
By the measure in thy hand.
Thou obfervant fitt'st on high
With bent brow and stedfast eye,
Weighing all that meets thy view
In thy balance just and true.
Goddess, look propitious down,
but without a frown,
View us,
Nemefis, whofe dreaded weight
Turns the scale of human fate.
Nemefis, be still our theme,
Power immortal and fupreme!
Thee we praise; nor thee alone,
But add the partner of thy throne.
Thee and Justice both we fing,
Juftice, whofe unwearied wing
Rears aloft the virtuous name
Safe from hell's rapacious claim;
And, when thou thy wrath haft shed,
Turns it from the guiltless head.
A SATIRE in the Manner of PERSIUS, in a Dialogue between ATTICUS and EUGENIO.
WHY wears my penfive friend that gloomy brow?
Say, whence proceeds th' imaginary woe?
What profp'rous villain haft thou met to-day?
Or hath afflicted Virtue cross'd thy way?
Is it fome crime unpunish'd you deplore,
Or right fubverted by injurious Power?
Be this or that the caufe, 'tis wifely done
To make the forrows of mankind your own:
To fee the injur'd pleading unredrefs'd,
The proud exalted, and the meek oppress'd,
Can hurt thy health, and rob thee of thy rest.
Your cares are in a hopeful way to cease,
If you must find perfection, to find peace.
But reck thy malice, vent thy stifled rage,
Inveigh against the times and lafh the age.-
Perhaps just recent from the court you come,
O'er public ills to ruminate at home.-
Say, which, of all the wretches thou haft seen,
Hath thrown a morfel to thy hungry spleen?
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