What murder'd Wentworth, and what exil'd Hyde,

By kings protected, and to kings ally'd?

What but their wifh indulg'd in courts to fhine,
And pow'r too great to keep, or to refign?

When firft the college rolls receive his name,
The young enthufiaft quits his ease for fame;
Through all his veins the fever of renown
Spreads from the ftrong contagion of the gówn
O'er Bodley's dome his future labours spread,
And Bacon's manfion trembles o'er his head.
Are these thy views? proceed, illustrious youth,
And Virtue guard thee to the throne of Truth !
Yet should thy foul indulge the gen'rous heat,
'Till captive Science yields her last retreat,
Should Reafon guide thee with her brightest ray,
And pour on mifty Doubt refistless day;
Should no falfe Kindness lure to loose delight,
Nor Praise relax, nór Difficulty fright;
Should tempting Novelty thy cell refrain,
And Sloth effufe her opiate fumes in vain ;-
Should Beauty blunt on fops her fatal dart,
Nor claim the triumph of a letter'd heart;

8 Ver. 114-132.

h There is a tradition, that the ftudy of friar Bacon, built on an arch over the bridge, will fall, when a man greater than Bacon fhall pass under it.

Should

Should no Disease thy torpid veins invade,
Nor Melancholy's phantoms haunt thy fhade;
Yet hope not life from grief or danger free,
Nor think the doom of man revers'd for thee:
Deign on the paffing world to turn thine eyes,
And pause awhile from letters, to be wife;
There mark what ills the scholar's life affail,
Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the jail.
See nations flowly wife, and meanly just,
To buried merit raise the tardy bust.

If dreams yet flatter, once again attend,
Hear Lydiat's life, and Galileo's end.

Nor deem, when Learning her laft prize bestows;
The glitt'ring eminence exempt from woes;
See when the vulgar 'fcape, defpis'd or aw❜d,
Rebellion's vengeful talons feize on Laud.

From meaner minds, though fmaller fines content
The plunder'd palace or fequefter'd rent;

Mark'd out by dangerous parts he meets the fhock;
And fatal Learning leads him to the block:
Around his tomb let Art and Genius weep,

But hear his death, ye blockheads, hear and fleep.

i

The feftal blazes, the triumphal fhow,

The ravish'd standard, and the captive foe,

1 Ver. 133146.

The

The fenate's thanks, the gazette's pompous tale,
With force refistless o'er the brave prevail.

Such bribes the rapid Greek o'er Afia whirl'd,
For fuch the steady Romans shook the world;
For fuch in diftant lands the Britons shine,

And ftain with blood the Danube or the Rhine ; This pow'r has praise, that virtue scarce can warm, 'Till fame fupplies the universal charm.

Yet Reason frowns on War's unequal game,
Where wasted nations raise a single name,

And mortgag'd ftates their grandfires wreaths regret,
From age to age in everlasting debt;

Wreaths which at laft the dear-bought right convey
To ruft on medals, or on stones decay.

On what foundation ftands the warrior's pride,
How juft his hopes let Swedish Charles decide;
A frame of adamant, a foul of fire,

No dangers fright him, and no labours tire;
O'er love, o'er fear extends his wide domain,
Unconquer'd lord of pleasure and of pain;
No joys to him pacific fcepters yield,

War founds the trump, he rushes to the field;

Behold furrounding kings their pow'r combine,
And one capitulate, and one refign;

* Ver. 147–167.

Peace

Peace courts his hand, but fpreads her charms in vain;
"Think nothing gain'd, he cries, 'till nought remain,
"On Moscow's walls 'till Gothic ftandards fly,
"And all be mine beneath the polar sky."
The march begins in military state,

And nations on his eye fufpended wait;

Stern Famine guards the folitary coaft;
And Winter barricades the realm of Froft;"
He comes, not want and cold his course delay;
Hide, blushing Glory, hide Pultowa's day:
The vanquish'd hero leaves his broken bands,
And fhews his miferies in diftant lands;
Condemn'd a needy fupplicant to wait,

While ladies interpofe, and flaves debate.
But did not Chance at length her error mend?
Did no fubverted empire mark his end?
Did rival monarchs give the fatal wound?
Or hostile millions press him to the ground?
His fall was destin'd to a barren strand,

A petty fortrefs, and a dubious hand;

He left the name, at which the world grew pale,
To point a moral, or adorn a tale.

All' times their scenes of pompous woes afford,
From Perfia's tyrant to Bavaria's lord.

1 Ver, 168-187.

VOL. IV.

M

In

In gay hoftility, and barb'rous pride,
With half mankind embattled at his fide,
Great Xerxes comes to feize the certain prey,
And ftarves exhausted regions in his way;
Attendant Flatt'ry counts his myriads o'er,
'Till counted myriads footh his pride no more

Fresh praise is try'd 'till madness fires his mind,
The waves he lafhes, and enchains the wind;

New pow'rs are claim'd, new pow'rs are still beftow'd, 'Till rude refiftance lops the fpreading god;

The daring Greeks deride the martial show,

And heap their vallies with the gaudy foe;
Th' infulted fea with humbler thoughts he gains,
A fingle skiff to fpeed his flight remains;

Th' incumber'd oar fcarce leaves the dreaded coaft
Through purple billows and a floating host.

The bold Bavarian, in a luckless hour,

Tries the dread fummits of Cefarean pow'r,
With unexpected legions bursts away,

And fees defenceless realms receive his sway;

Short fway! fair Auftria spreads her mournful charms,
The queen, the beauty, fets the world in arms;
From hill to hill the beacons rousing blaze

Spreads wide the hope of plunder and of praife;

The