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The Queen of Ifles, the Miftrefs of the Main.
My heart beat filial transport at the fight,
And as the mov'd to fpeak, th' awakened Mufe
Liften'd intenfe. A while fhe look'd around,
With mournful eye the well-known ruins mark'd,
And then, her fighs repreffing, thus began:

Mine are these wonders, all thou feeft is Mine; 40
But ah! how chang'd! the falling, poor remains
Of what exalted once th' Aufonian fhore.
Look back thro' time, and, rising from the gloom,
Mark the dread scene, that paints whate'er I say.

The Great Republic fee! that glow'd, fublime, 45
With the mixt freedom of a thousand states,
Rais'd on the thrones of kings her curule chair,
And by her fafces aw'd the subject world.
See bufy millions quickening all the land,
With cities throng'd, and teeming culture high; 50
For Nature then fmil'd on her free-born fons,
And pour'd the plenty that belongs to Men.
Behold, the country cheering, villas rise
In lively prospect, by the secret lapse

Of brooks now loft and ftreams renown'd in fong: 55
In Umbria's clofing vales, or on the brow
Of her brown hills that breathe the fcented gale;
On Baia's viney coaft, where peaceful feas,
Fann'd by kind zephyrs, ever kiss the shore,
And funs unclouded fhine thro' pureft air;
Or in the spacious neighbourhood of Rome,

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Far-fhining upward to the Sabine hills,
To Anio's roar and Tiber's olive fhade,
To where Preneste lifts her airy brow,
Or downward spreading to the funny shore,
Where Alba breathes the freshness of the main.
See distant mountains leave their vallies dry,
And o'er the proud Arcade their tribute pour,
To love imperial Rome. For ages laid,
Deep, maffy, firm, diverging every way,
With tombs of heroes facred, fee her roads,
By various nations trod, and fuppliant kings,
With legions flaming, or with triumph gay.

Full in the centre of these wondrous works,
The pride of earth! Rome in her glory fee!
Behold her demigods, in fenate met,
All head to counfel, and all heart to act;
The Commonweal infpiring every tongue
With fervent eloquence, unbrib'd, and bold,
Ere tame Corruption taught the fervile herd

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To rank obedient to a master's voice.

Her Forum fee, warm, popular, and loud,

In trembling wonder hush'd, when the two Sires *, As they the private father greatly quell'd,

Stood up the public fathers of the state.

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See Juftice judging there in human shape!

Hark! how with Freedom's voice it thunders high, Or in foft murmurs finks to Tully's tongue.

L. J. Brutus, and Virginius,

Her Tribes her Cenfus fee; her generous troops,

Whofe pay was glory, and their best reward

go

Free for their country and for Me to die,
Ere mercenary murder grew a trade.

Mark, as the purple triumph waves along, The highest pomp and lowest fall of life.

Her feftive games, the school of heroes, fee; 95 Her Circus, ardent with contending youth; Her streets, her temples, palaces, and baths, Full of fair forms, of Beauty's eldest born, And of a people cast in Virtue's mould: While Sculpture lives around, and Afian hills 100 Lend their beft ftores to heave the pillar'd dome; All that to Roman ftrength the fofter touch Of Grecian art can join. But language fails To paint this fun, this centre of mankind, Where every virtue, glory, treasure, art, Attracted ftrong, in heightened luftre met.

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Need I the contrast mark? unjoyous view! A land in all, in government and arts, In virtue, genius, earth, and heaven, revers'd. Who but these far-fam'd ruins to behold, Proofs of a people whofe heroic aims Soar'd far above the little selfish sphere Of doubting modern life; who but inflam'd With claffic zeal, these confecrated scenes Of men and deeds to trace, unhappy Land! Would truft thy wilds, and cities loofe of fway?

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Are these the vales that, once, exulting ftates In their warm bofom fed? the mountains these On whose high-blooming fides My fons, of old, I bred to glory? these dejected towns, Where, mean and fordid, life can fcarce fubfift, The scenes of ancient opulence and pomp?

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Come! by whatever facred name difguis'd, Oppreffion! come, and in thy works rejoice! See Nature's richest plains to putrid fens Turn'd by thy fury. From their cheerful bounds See raz'd th' enlivening village, farm, and feat. First rural Toil, by thy rapacious hand Robb'd of his poor reward, refign'd the plow, And now he dares not turn the noxious glebe: 130 'Tis thine entire. The lonely fwain himself, Who loves at large along the graffy downs His flocks to pafture, thy drear champain flies. Far as the fickening eye can sweep around, 'Tis all one defert, defolate, and gray, Graz'd by the fullen buffalo alone; And where the rank uncultivated growth Of rotting ages taints the paffing gale. Beneath the baleful blaft the city pines, Or finks enfeebled, or infected burns. Beneath it mourns the folitary road,

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Roll'd in rude mazes o'er th' abandon'd waste, While ancient ways, ingulf'd, are feen no more,

Such thy dire plains, thou Self-deftroyer! foe

To human-kind! Thy mountains, too, profuse, 145 Where favage Nature blooms, feem their fad plaint To raise against thy defolating rod.

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There on the breezy brow, where thriving ftates
And famous cities, once, to the pleas'd fun
Far other scenes of rifing culture spread,
Pale shine thy ragged towns. Neglected round
Each harvest pines, the livid, lean produce
Of heartlefs Labour; while thy hated joys,
Not proper pleasure, lift the lazy hand.
Better to fink in floth the woes of life,
Than wake their rage with unavailing toil.
Hence drooping Art almoft to Nature leaves
The rude unguided year. Thin wave the gifts
Of yellow Ceres, thin the radiant blush

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Of orchard reddens in the warmest ray.

To weedy wildness run, no rural wealth (Such as dictators fed) the garden pours.

Crude the wild olive flows, and foul the vine;
Nor juice Cœcubian nor Falernian more

Streams life and joy, fave in the Mufe's bowl. 165
Unfeconded by Art, the fpinning race

Draw the bright thread in vain, and idly toil.
In vain, forlorn in wilds, the citron blows,
And flowering plants perfume the defert gale.
Thro' the vile thorn the tender myrtle twines: 170
Inglorious droops the laurel, dead to fong,
And long a stranger to the hero's brow.