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Refore the Lock! The cries ; and all around Why bade ye else, ye pow'rs! her soul aspire Restore the Lock! the vaulted roofs rebound. Above the vulgar Aight of low defire ? Not fierce Othello in so loud a strain
Ambition first iprung from your blest atodes, Roar'd for the handkerchief that caus'd his pain. The glorious fault of angels and of gods! But see how oft ambitious aims are crois’d, Thence to their images on earth it Hows, And chiefs contend till all the prize is loft! And in the brealts of kings and heroes glows. The Lock, obtaind with guilt, and kept with pain, Moit svuls, 'tis true, but peep out once an age, In ev'ry place is sought, but lought in vain : Dull fullen pris'ners in the body's cage; With such a prize no mortal must be blest, Diin lights of life, that burn a length of years, So Heaven decrees! with Heaven who can contest Ufelcís, unseen, as lamps in sepulchres ;
Some thought it mounted to the Lunar sphere, Like eastern kings, a lazy ftate they kecp, Since all things loft on earth are treasur'd there. Anzi, close contin'd in their own palace, sleep. There heroes' wits are kept in pond'rous vases, From these perhaps (ere Nature bade her die) And beaux in snuff-boxes and tweezer-cases. Fate inatch'd her early to the pitying sky. There broken vows and death-bedams are found, As into air the purer Ipirits flow, And lovers' hearts with ends of ribband bound ; | And lep rate from their kindred dregs below, The courtier's promises, and fick man's pray’rs, So Aew the soul to its cor genial place, The smiles of harlors, and the tears of heirs, Nor left one virtue to redeem her racc. Cages for gnats,
and chains to yoke a fita, Eur thou, false guardian of a charge too good, Dried butterflies, and comes of cafuiítry. Thou niein deserter of thy brother's blood !
But trust the Muse-Ne saw it upward rise, See on these ruby lips che trembling breath, Tho' mark'd by none but quick poetic eyes : Thele cheeks, now fading at the blait of death; So Rome's great founder to the heavens with Cold is that breast which warm'd the world before, To Proculus alone confest in view. [drew, And thole love-darting eyes must roll no more, A sudden star, it shot thro' liquid air,
Thus, if etcrnal Justice rules the ball, And drew behind a radiant trail of hair. Thus shall your wives and thus your children fall; Not Berenice's Locks frit rose fo bright, On all the line a sudden vengeance waits, The heavens bespangling with dishevell d light. And frequent hearses thall besiege your gates ; The Sylp's behold it kindling as it nlies, There pallengers Thall stand; and, pointing, say And pleas'd pursue its progress thro' the kies. (While the long fun'rals blacken all the way),
This the Beau-monde mail from the Mall iui- Lo! there were they whose fouls the Furies ftcel'de And hail with music its propitious ray; (vey, And curs'd with hcarts unknowing how to yield, This the bleit Lover thall for Venus tako, Thus unlamcoted pass the proud away, And send up vows from Rofamonda's lake. The gaze of fools, and pageant of a day! This Partridge foon fhall view in cloudless skics. So perifh all whole breast ne'er learn d to glow When next he looks thro' Galilæo's eyes; For others' good, or melt at others' woe. And hence th' egregious wizard thall foredoom What cau atone, oh ever-injur'd fhade! The fate of Louis, and the fall of Rome. Thy fate unpitied, and thy rites unpaid? Then ccale, brighe Nyinph ! to mourn thy ra- No friend's complaint, no kind domestic tear, vilh'd hair,
Pleas'd thy pale ghoft, orgrac'd thy mournful bier : Which adds new glory to the thining sphere ! By foreign hands thy dying eyes were closed, Not all the treiles that fair head can boast, By foreign hands thy decent limbs coinpos’d, Shall draw such envy as the Lock you loft. By foreign hands thy, humble grave adorn'd, For, after all the murders of your eye,
By strangers honour'd, and by strangers mourn'd! When, after millions Nain, yourself fhall die; What tho' no friends in fable weeds appear, When those fair suns Thall lét, as fet they must, Grieve for an hour, perhaps, then mourn a year, And all thosc treiles shall be laid in duit ; And bear about the mockery of woe This Lock the Muse shall consecrate to fame, To midnight dances, and the public show; And 'midst the stars inscribe Belinda's name. What tho' no weeping loves thy ashes grace,
Nor polish'd marble emulate thy face ;
What tho' no sacred earth allow thee room, $ 11. Elegvia the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. Nor hallow'a dirge be mutter'd o'er thy tomb;
Yet thall thy grave with rising flow'rs bc drets de WHAT beck’ning ghost, along the moon. And the green turf lie lightly on thy breaft. light thade,
There shall the morn her earliest rears bcftow, Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade ? There the first roscs of the year fhall blow; Tis the !--but why that bleeding bosom gord: While angels with their filver wings o'erfhade Why dimly gleams the visionary Tword? The ground, now facred by thy reliques made. Ch crer beauteous, ever friendly! tell
So peaceful rests, without a stone, a name, Is it in heaven a crime to love too well. What once had beauty, titles, wealth, and fame, To bear tvo tender or too fim a heart,
How lov'd, how honour'd once, avails the: nch, To act a Lover's or a Roman's part
To whom rclated, or by whom begot : Is there no bright reversion in the sky
A heap of duft alone remains of chce; For those who greatly think, or bravely die ? 'Tis all thou art, and all the proud will be !
Poets themselves must fall, like those they sung, The play may pass—but that strange creature, Deaf the prais'd ear, and mute the runeful tongue. Shore, Ev'n he, whole foui now melts in mournful lays, I can't-indeed now—I fo hate a whore Shall shortly wart the gen'rous tear he pays;
Just as a blockhead rubs his thoughtless skull, Then from his closing eyes thy form thall part,
And thanks his ftars he was not born a fool,
“ How ftrangely you expose yourself, my dear!" The Mufe forgot, and thou belov'd no more!
But let me die, all raillery apart,
Our tex are still forgiving at their heart; s 12. Prologue to Mr. Adalison's Tragedy of Cao. And, did not wicked cuitom so contrive,
Pole. We'd be the best good-natur'd things alive.
There are, 'tis true, who tell another tale, TO wake the foul by tender strokes of art, That virtuous ladics envy while they rail;
To raise the genius, and to mend the heart; Such rage without betrays the fire within ; To make mankind in conscious virtue boid,
In fome close corner of the soul they fin; Live o'er each scene, and be what they bchold: Still hoarding up, most scandalously nice, For this the Tragic Muse first trod the stage,
Amidst their virtues a refcrve of vice. Coinmanding tears to stream thro' ev'ry age ;
The godly dame, who Hefbly failings damos, Tyranis no more their savage nature kopt, Scolds with her maid, or with her chaplain crams. And focs to virtue wonder'd how they wcpt.
Would you enjoy soft nights and folid dinners, Our Author shuns by rulgar springs to move *Faith, gallants, board with saints, and bed with The hero's glory, or the virgin's love;
Well, ifour author in the wife offends, [sinners. In pitying love we but our weakness thew,
He has a bushand that will inake amends : And wild ambition well deserves its woe.
He draws him gentle, tender, and forgiving; Here tears shall Aow from a more gen'rous cause, And sure such kind good creatures may be living. Such tears as patriots fhed for dying laws :
In days of old they pardon'd breach of rows; He bids your breasts with ancient ardour rise,
Stern Cato's self was no relentless spouse: And calls forth Roman drops from British eyes. Plu_Plutarch-what's his name that writes his Virtue confest in human thape he draws, Tells us that Cato dearly lov'd his wife : [life: What Plato thought, anıl godlike Cato was : Yet if a friend a night or so should need her, No common object to your fight displays, He'd recommend her as a special breeder. Put what with pleasure Heaven itself surveys-- To lend a wife, few here would scruple make; A brave man struggling in the storms of fate,
But, pray, which of
all would take her back? And greatly falling with a falling state, Tho' with the Stoic chicf our stage may ring, While Cato gives his little senate laws, The Stoic husband was the glorious thing. What bosom bcats not in his country's cause ?
The man had courage, was a fage, 'tis true, Who sees him act, but envies ev'ry deed?
And lov'd his country-but what's that to you! Who hears him groan, and does not wish to blced : Those strange examples ne'er were made to fíe ye; Ev'n when proud Cæsar, ʼmidfi triumphal cars,
But the kind cuckold might instruct the city : The spoils of nations, and the pomp of wars, There inany an honest man may copy Cato, Ignobly vain, and iinpotently great,
Who ne'er saw naked sword, or look'd in Plato. Shewid Rome her Cato's figure drawn in state ;
If, after all, you think it a disgrace
face The pomp was darken'd, and the day o'ercall;
To see a piece of failing Aeth and blood
'Faith, let the modeft matrons of the town Her last good man dejected Rome ador'd, Come here in crowds, and stare the strumpet down. And honour'd Cæsar's less than Cato's sword.
Brituns, attend : be worth like this approv'd ; § 14. The Temple of Fame. Pope.
IN that Soft season, when descending how'rs
Call forth the greens, and wake the rising Rome learning arts from Greece whom she subdued;
flow'rs; Our scene precariously fubfifts too long
When op'ning buds falute the welcome day, On French translation and Italian fong.
And earth relenting feels the genial ray ; Dare to have sense yourselves; assert the stage ;
As balmy Neep had charm'd my cares to rest, Be jufly warm'd with your own native rage : And love itself was banith'd from any breast Such plays alone should win a British car, (What time the morn misterious visions brings, As Cato's self had not disdain'd to hear.
While purer flumbers spread their golden wings);
A train of phantoms in wild order rose ; $ 13. Epilogue 10 Mr. Rozve's Jane Sbore. Pope. And, join'd, this intellectual scene compose. PRODIGIOUS this! the frail one of our play I ftood, methought, betwixt earth, seas, and
Fron her own sex should mercy find to-day! The wholc creation open to my eyes : [íkics; You might have held the pretty hcad aside, In air self-balanc'd hung the globe below, Peep'd in your fans, been serious thus, and cried, Where unouotaias rile, and circling oceans flow :
Here naked rocks and empty wastes were seen, In shaggy spoils here Theseus was beheld,
And Perseus dreadful with Minerva's fhield : Here failing ships delight the wand'ring cyes, There great Alcides, stooping with his toil, There trees and intermingled temples rile: Rests on his club, and holds th' Hesperian spoil: Now a clear fun the shining scene displays, Here Orpheus sings ; trees moving to the sound, The transient landicape now in clouds decays. Start from their roots, and form a shade around :
O'er the wide prospect as I gaz'd around, Amphion there the loud creating lyre Sudden I heard a wild promiscuous found, Strikes, and beholds a sudden Thebes aspire ! Like broken thunders that at distance roar, Cvihæron's echocs answer to his call, Or billows murm’ring on the hollow shore : And half the mountain rolls into a wall: Then, gazing up, a glorious pile beheld, There might you see the length’ningspires ascend, Whose tow’ring summit ambient clouds concealia. The domes swell up, the widening arches bend, High on a rock of ice the structure lav,
The growing tow'rs like exhalations rise, Steep its afcent, and Nipp'ry was the way; And the huge columns heave into the skies. The wondrous rock like Parian marble thone, The Eastern front was glorious to behold, And seem'd to distant fight of solid stone. With diamond Haming, and Barbaric gold. Inscriptions here of various names I view'd, There Ninus thone, who spread th’ Assyrian fame, The greater part by hostile time subdued; And the great founder of the Persian name : Yet wide were spread their fame in ages past, There, in long robes, the royal Magi ftand; And poets once had promis’d they thould last. Grave Zoroafter waves the circling wand : Some, fresh engrav'd, appear’d of wits renown'd; The face Chaldæans rob'd in white appear'd, I look'd again, nor could their trace be found. And Brachmans, deep in defert woods rever'd. Critics I faw, that other navı
These stopp'd the moon, and call'd th' unbodied And fix their own with labour in their place ;
shades Their own, like others, foon their place resign'd, To midnight banquets in the glimm’ring glades ; Or disappear'd, and left the first behind. Made visionary fabrics round them rise, Nor was the work impair'd by storms alone, And airy fpcétres skim before their eyes; But felt th' approaches of too warm a sun; Of Talismans and Sigils knew the pow'r, For fame, impatient of extremes, decays And careful watcii'd the planetary hour. Not more by envy than excess of praise. Superior, and alone, Confucius stood, Yet part no injuries of heaven could feel, Who taught that uleful science, to be good. Like crystal, faithful to the graving steel : But, on the South, a long majestic race The rock's high summit, in the temple's shade, Of Egypt's priests the gilded niches grace, Nor heat could inelt, nor beating itorin invade. Who measur'd earth, describ'd the starry spheres, There names inscrib’d unnumber'd ages pait, And trac'd the long records of lunar years. From time's first birth, with time itself thall last; High on his car Sefiftris ftruck my view, These ever new, nor subject to decays, [days. Whoni fceptred Naves in golden harness drew : Spread, and grow brighter, with the length of His hands a bow and pointed javelin hold,
So Zembla's rocks (the beauteous work of frost) His giant limbs are arm'd in scales of gold. Rise white in air, and glitter o'cr the coast; Between the statues obelisks were plac'd, Pale suns, unfelt, at distance roll away,
And the learn'd walls with hieroglyphics grac'd. And on th' impassive ice the lightnings play; Of Gothic structure was the northern fide, Eternal snows the growing mass fupply, O'erwrought with ornaments of barb'rous pride Till the bright mountains prop th' incumbent sky: There huge colofses rose, with trophies crown'd; As Atlas fix'd, each boary pile appears
And Runic characters were grav‘d around. The gather'd winter of a thousand years.
There fat Zainolxis withi erceted cyes; On this foundation Fame's high temple ftands ; And Odin here in mimic trances dies. Stupendous pile! not rear'd by mortal hands. There on rude iron columns, smear d with blood, Whate'er proud Rome or artful Greece beheld, The horrid forms of Scythian heroes food, Or elder Babylon, its framie excell'd.
Druids and bards (their once loud harps unstrung), Four faces had the dome, and ev'ry face And youths that died to be by poets lung: Of various structure, but of equal grace : There, and a thousand more of doubtful fame, Four brazen gates, or columns lifted higli, To whom old fables gave a lasting name, Salute the diff'rent quarters of the sky. In ranks adorn'd the Temple's outward face : Here fabled chiefs, in darker ages born, The wall, in lustre and effect like glass, Or worthies old, whom arms or arts adorn, Which o'er each object casting various dyes, Who cities rais'd, or tam'd a inonfirous race, Enlarges fome, and others multiplies : The walls in venerable order grace :
Nor void of eniblem was the mystic wall; Heroes in animated inarbie frown,
For thus romantic Fame increales all. And legillators feem to think in stone.
The Temple Thakes, the founding gates uno Westward a fumptuous frontispiece appear'd, fold, On Doric pillars of white marble rear’d, Wide vaults appear, and roofs of fretted gold; Crown'd with an architrave of antique mold, Rais'd on a thousand pillars, wreath'd around And sculpture rising on the rouglen'd gold. With laurel foliage, and with eagles crown'd.
Of bright transparent beryl were the walls, In living sculpture on the fides were spread
With heads advanc'd, and pinions stretch'd for
Neptune and Jove survey the rapid race. And his horn'd head belyed the Lybian God. The youths hang o'er their chariots as they run, There Cæsar, grac'd with both Minervas, shone; The fiery steeds Yeem starting from the stone: Cæfar, the world's great master, and his own ; The champions, in distorted posture, threat ; Unmor'd, superior till, in ev'ry state,
And all appear'd irregularly great. And scarce derested in his country's fate. Here happy Horacc tun'd th’ Ausonian lyre But chief were those who not for empire fought, To sweeter sounds, and temper’d Pindar's fire : But with their toils their people's safety bought. Pleas'd with Alcæus' manly rage t'infuse High o'er the rest Epaminondas ftood; The softer spirit of the Sapphic Muse. Timoleon, glorious in his brother's blood; The polith'd pillar diff'rent sculptures grace ; Bold Scipio, faviour of the Roman state, A work outlasting monumental brass. Great in his triumphs, in retirement grcat; Here smiling Loves and Bacchanals
appear; And wife Aurelius, in whole well-taught mind The Julian star, and great Augustus here. With boundless powrunbounded virtue join’d, The Doves that round the infant poet spread His own ftrict judge, and patron of mankind. Myrtles and bays, hang hov’ring o'er his head.
Much suff'ring heroes next their honours claim, Here, in a fhrine that cast a dazzling light, Those of less noily and less guilty fame, Sat fix'd in thought the mighty Stagyrite ; Fair Virtue's silent train : fupreme of these His facred head a radiant zodiac crown'd, Here ever shines the godlike Socrates;
And various animals his lides surround; He whom ungrateful Athens could expel, His piercing eyes, erect, appear to view At all times just but when he sign'd the ihell; Superior worlds, and look all nature through. Here his abode the martyr'd Phocion claims, With equal rays immortal Tully shone ; With Agis, not the last of Spartan names; The Roman roftra deck'd the consul's throne : Unconquer'd Cato Thews the wound he tore; Gath'ring his flowing robe, he seem'd to ftand And Brutus his ill genius meets no more. In act to speak, and graceful stretch'd his hand.
But in the centre of the hallow'd choir, Behind, Rome's genius waits with civic crowns, Six pompous columns o'er the rest aspire ; And the great Father of his country owns. Around the Shrine itself of Fame they stand, These masly columns in a circle rise, Hold the chief honours, and the fane command. O'er which a pompous dome invades the skies ; High on the first the mighty Homer Thone, Scarce to the top 1 ítretch'd my aching hight, Eternal adaman: compos’d his throne ;
So large it spread, and swellid to such a height. Father of verse! in holy fillets drest,
Full in the inidit proud Fame's imperial feat His filver beard wav'd gently o'er his breasts With jewels blaz'ü, magnificently great: Tho'blind, a boldness in his looks appears ; The vivid em'ralds there revive the eye, In years he fecm'd, but not impair’d by years. The flaming rubies thew their fanguine dyc, The wars of Troy were round the pillar feen: Bright azure rays from lively sapphires ftrcam, Here fierce Tydides wounds the Cyprian queen; And lucid amber cafts a golden glcam. Here Hector glorious from Patroclus' fall, With various-colour'd light the pavement shone, Here dragg’d in triumph round the Trojan wall : And all on fire appear'd the glowing throne ; Motion and life did ev'ry part inspire,
The dome's high arch reflects the mingled blaze, Bold was the work, and prov'd the master’s fire; And forms a rainbow of alternate rays. A strong expression most he seem'd t' affect, When on the Goddess first I cast my fight, And here and there disclos'd a brave neglect. Scarce scem'd her stature of a cubit's height;
A golden column next in rank appear'd, But swell’d to larger size, the more I gaz'd, On which a fhrine of purest gold was rear'd; Till to the roof her tow'ring front she rais'd. Finishid the whole, and labour'd ev'ry part, With her, the temple ev'ry moment grew; With patient touches of unwearied art: And ampler vistas open’d to my view : The Mantuan there in sober triumph sate, Upward the columiss shoot, the roofs afcend, Compos'd his posture, and his look fedate; And arches widen, and long ailles extend. On Homer still he fix'd a rev'rent eye,
Such was her forin as ancient bards have told, Great without pride, in modest majesty. Wings raise her arms, and wings her feet enfold;
A thousand busy tongues thc Goddess bears, But straight the direful trump of Nander sounds;
Around these wonders as I cast a look, The pois'nous vapour blots the purple lies,
The praise of merit, nor aspire to fame; Thus her blind fixter, fickle Fortune, reigns; But, safe in deserts from th' applause of men, And, undiscerning, scatters crowns and chains. Would die unhcard of, as we liv'd unseen.
First at the shrine the learned world appear, 'Tis all we beg thee, to conceal from fight And to the Goddels thus prefer their pray'r: Those acts of goodness which theinselves require. Longhave we fought t'instruct and please mankind, o let us still the secret joy partake, With ftudies pale, with midnight vigils blind; To follow virtue even for virtue's sake. But thank'd by few, rewarded yet by none, And live there men who flight immortal fame! We here appeal to thy superior throne: Who then with incense hall adore our name: On wit and learning the just prize bestow; But, mortals ! know, 'is still our greatest pride For Fame is all we must cxpcét below. To blaze those virtues which the good would hide.
The Goddess heard, and bade the Muses raise Rise! muses, rise ! add all your tuneful breath; The golden trumpet of eternal praise :
These must not sleep in darkness and in death. From pole to pole the winds diffuse the sound, She said: in air the trembling mufic Roats, That fills the circuit of the world around; And on the winds triumphant swell the notes; Not all at once, as thunder breaks the cloud : So foft tho' high, so loud and yet so clear, The notes at first were rather sweet than loud ; Even lift’ning angels lean from heaven to hear : Ry just degrees they ev'ry moment risc, To furthest ihores th'ambrosial spirit fies, Fill the wide earth, and gain upon the skies. Siveet to the world, and grateful to the skies. At ev'ry breath were balmy odours lhed, Nextthele, a youthful train their vowsexpress’d, Which still grow sweeter as they wider spread : Withfeathers crown'd,withgay embroid'ry dress di Less fragrant scents th' unfolding role exliales, Hither, they cried, direct your eyes, and see Or spices breathing in Arabian gales.
The men of pleature, dress, and gallantry; Next these the good and juft, an awful train, Ours is the place at banquets, balls, and plays; Thus on their knees address the sacred fane :
Sprightly our nights, polite are all our days ; Since living virtue is with envy cursid, Courts we frequent, where 'tis our pleasing And the best men are treated like the worst, To pay due visits, and addrefs the fair: Do thou, just Goddess, call our merits forth, In fact, 'tis true, no nymph we could persuade, And give cach deed th' exact intrinlic worth. But fillin fancy vanquish'd ev'ry maid; Not with bare justice shall your act be crown'd Of unknown ducheffes lewd tales we tell; (Said Fame), but high above delert renown'd: Yet, would the world bclieve us, all were
well. Let fuller notes th' applauding world amaze, The joy let others have, and we the name ; And the loud clarion labour in your praise. And what we want in pleasure, grant in fame.
This band dismiss’d, be'.)ld another crowd The queen aflents, the trumpetrends the kies, Preferr'd the same request, and lowly bow'd ; And at each blaft a lady's honour dics. (presu'd The constant tenour of whole well-ipent days Pleas'd with the strange fuccefs, vast numbers No less deserv'd a just return of prailc. Around the thrine, and made the same requeft: