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Of smiling victory that moment won,

And Chatham heart-fick of his country's shame!

They made us many foldiers. Chatham, still

Consulting England's happiness at home,

Secur'd it by an unforgiving frown,

If any wrong'd her. Wolfe, where'er he fought, Put so much of his heart into his act,

That his example had a magnet's force,

And all were swift to follow whom all lov'd.

Those suns are fet. Oh, rise some other fuch!
Or all that we have left is empty talk
Of old achievements, and defpair of new,

Now hoist the fail, and let the streamers float

Upon the wanton breezes. Strew the deck
With lavender, and sprinkle liquid sweets,
That no rude favour maritime invade
The nose of nice nobility! Breathe soft,
Ye clarionets; and softer still, ye flutes;
That winds and waters, lull'd by magic sounds,

May bear us smoothly to the Gallic shore!
True, we have loft an empire-let it pass.
True; we may thank the perfidy of France,
That pick'd the jewel out of England's crown,
With all the cunning of an envious shrew.
And let that pass-'twas but a trick of state!
A brave man knows no malice, but at once
Forgets in peace the injuries of war,
And gives his direst foe a friend's embrace.
And, sham'd as we have been, to th' very beard
Brav'd and defied, and in our own fea prov'd
Too weak for those decisive blows that once
Ensured us mast'ry there, we yet retain
Some small pre-eminence; we justly boast
At least superior jockeyship, and claim
The honours of the turf as all our own!
Go, then, well worthy of the praise ye seek,
And show the shame ye might conceal at home
In foreign eyes!-be grooms, and win the plate
Where once your nobler fathers won a crown!-

1

'Tis gen'rous to communicate your skill To those that need it. Folly is foon learn'd: And, under fuch preceptors, who can fail!

There is a pleasure in poetic pains Which only poets know. The shifts and turns, Th' expedients and inventions, multiform, To which the mind resorts, in chase of terms Though apt, yet coy, and difficult to winT' arrest the fleeting images that fill The mirror of the mind, and hold them faft, And force them fit till he has pencil'd off A faithful likeness of the forms he views; Then to dispose his copies with fuch art, That each may find its most propitious light, And shine by situation, hardly less Than by the labour and the skill it cost; Are occupations of the poet's mind So pleasing, and that steal away the thought With fuch address from themes of fad import,

That, loft in his own musings, happy man!

He feels th' anxieties of life, denied

Their wonted entertainment, all retire.

Such joys has he that sings. But ah! not such,

Or feldom fuch, the hearers of his fong.

Faftidious, or else listless, or perhaps
Aware of nothing arduous in a task
They never undertook, they little note
His dangers or escapes, and haply find
There least amusement where he found the most.
But is amusement all? studious of fong,
And yet ambitious not to fing in vain,
I would not trifle merely, though the world
Be loudest in their praise who do no more.
Yet what can fatire, whether grave or gay?
It may correct a foible, may chastise
The freaks of fashion, regulate the dress,
Retrench a fword-blade, or difplace a patch;
But where are its fublimer trophies found?
What vice has it fubdu'd? whose heart reclaim'd

By rigour, or whom laugh'd into reform?

Alas! Leviathan is not fo tam'd:

Laugh'd at, he laughs again; and, stricken hard,

Turns to the stroke his adamantine fcales,

That fear no difcipline of human hands.

The pulpit, therefore (and I name it fill'd With folemn awe, that bids me well beware With what intent I touch that holy thing)The pulpit (when the fat'rift has at last, Strutting and vap'ring in an empty school, Spent all his force and made no proselyte)

I fay the pulpit (in the fober use

Of its legitimate, peculiar pow'rs)

Must stand acknowledg'd, while the world shall stand,

The most important and effectual guard,

Support, and ornament, of virtue's cause.

There stands the messenger of truth: there stands

The legate of the skies!--His theme divine,

His office facred, his credentials clear.

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