When thou wouldst build; no quarry sent its stores T' enrich thy walls: but thou didst hew the floods, And make thy marble of the glassy wave. In fuch a palace Aristæus found Cyrene, when he bore the plaintive tale Of his loft bees to her maternal ear: In fuch a palace poetry might place The armoury of winter; where his troops, The gloomy clouds, find weapons, arrowy fleet, Skin-piercing volley, blossom-bruifing hail, And snow that often blinds the trav'ler's course, And wraps him in an unexpected tomb. Silently as a dream the fabric rofe;- No found of hammer or of faw was there. Ice upon ice, the well-adjusted parts Were foon conjoin'd; nor other cement afk'd
Than water interfus'd to make them one.
Lamps gracefully difpos'd, and of all hues, Illumin'd ev'ry fide: a wat'ry light
Gleam'd through the clear transparency, that seem'd
Another moon new risen, or meteor fall'n From heav'n to earth, of lambent flame ferene. So stood the brittle prodigy; though smooth And flipp'ry the materials, yet froft-bound Firm as a rock. Nor wanted aught within, That royal residence might well befit, For grandeur or for use. Long wavy wreaths Of flow'rs, that fear'd no enemy but warmth, Blush'd on the pannels. Mirror needed none Where all was vitreous; but in order due Convivial table and commodious feat
(What feem'd at least commodious seat) were there;
Sofa, and couch, and high-built throne august.
The fame lubricity was found in all,
And all was moist to the warm touch; a scene
Of evanefcent glory, once a stream, And foon to flide into a stream again. Alas! 'twas but a mortifying stroke Of undesign'd feverity, that glanc'd (Made by a monarch) on her own estate,
On human grandeur and the courts of kings.
'Twas tranfient in its nature, as in show
'Twas durable; as worthless, as it feem'd
Intrinfically precious; to the foot
Treach'rous and false; it smil'd, and it was cold.
Great princes have great playthings. Some have play'd At hewing mountains into men, and some At building human wonders mountain-high. Some have amus'd the dull, sad years of life (Life fpent in indolence, and therefore fad) With schemes of monumental fame; and fought By pyramids and mausolean pomp, Short-liv'd themselves, t' immortalize their bones. Some feek diversion in the tented field, And make the forrows of mankind their sport. But war's a game, which, were their subjects wife, Kings would not play at. Nations would do well T' extort their truncheons from the puny hands Of heroes, whose infirm and baby minds
Are gratified with mischief; and who spoil, Because men fuffer it, their toy the world.
When Babel was confounded, and the great
Confed'racy of projectors wild and vain Was split into diversity of tongues, Then, as a shepherd separates his flock, These to the upland, to the valley those, God drave asunder, and assign'd their lot To all the nations. Ample was the boon He gave them, in its distribution fair And equal; and he bade them dwell in peace. Peace was awhile their care: they plough'd, and fow'd, And reap'd their plenty, without grudge or strife. But violence can never longer fleер Than human passions please. In ev'ry heart Are sown the sparks that kindle fi'ry war; Occafion needs but fan them, and they blaze. Cain had already shed a brother's blood: The deluge wash'd it out; but left unquench'd
The feeds of murder in the breaft of man. Soon, by a righteous judgment, in the line Of his defcending progeny was found The first artificer of death; the shrewd Contriver who first sweated at the forge, And forc'd the blunt and yet unbloodied steel To a keen edge, and made it bright for war. Him, Tubal nam'd, the Vulcan of old times, The sword and faulchion their inventor claim; And the first smith was the first murd'rer's fon. His art furviv'd the waters; and ere long, When man was multiplied and spread abroad In tribes and clans, and had begun to call These meadows and that range of hills his own, The tasted sweets of property begat Defire of more; and industry in fome,
T' improve and cultivate their just demesne, Made others covet what they faw so fair.
Thus war began on earth: these fought for spoil, And those in felf-defence. Savage at first,
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