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ply course I steerd, and by the banks of Nile Their sports, their labours, ever plac'd withia,
Dwelt in Canopus. Thence the hallow'd domes O shade of Minos, thy controlling eye!
Of Saïs, and the rites to Isis paid,

Here was a docile band in tuneful tones
I sought, and in her temple's silent courts, Thy laws pronouncing, or with lofty hymns
Through many changing moons, attentive heard Praising the bounteous gods, or, to preserve
The venerable Sonchis, while his tongue

Their country's heroes from oblivious night,
At mom or midnight the deep story told

Resounding what the Muse inspir'd of old ; Of her who represents whate'er has been,

There, on the verge of manhood, others met, Or is, or shall be ; whose mysterious veil

In heavy armour through the heats of noon No mortal hand hath ever yet remov'd.

To march, the rugged mountains height to climb By him exhorted, southward to the walls

With measur'd swiftness, from the hard-bent bow Of On I pass'd, the city of the Sun,

To send resistless arrows to their mark, The ever-youthful god. 'Twas there amid Or for the fame of prowess to contend, His priests and sages, who the live-long night Now wrestling, now with fists and staves opposid, Watch the dread movements of the starry sphere, Now with the biting falchion, and the fence Or who in wondrous fables half disclose

Of brazen shields; while still the warbling flute The secrets of the elements, 'twas there

Presided o'er the combat, breathing strains That great Psenophis taught my raptur'd ears Grave, solemn, soft; and changing headlong spite The fame of old Atlantis, of her chiefs,

To thoughtful resolution cool and clear. And her pure laws, the first which Earth obey'd. Such I beheld those islanders renown'd, Deep in my bosom sunk the noble tale;

So tutor'd from their birth to meet in war And often, while I listen’d, did my mind

Each bold invader, and in peace to guard Foretell with what delight her own free lyre That living fame of reverence for their laws Should sometime for an Attic audience raise Which, nor the storms of fortune, nor the flood Anew that lofty scene, and from their tombs Of foreign wealth diffus'd o'er all the land, Call forth those ancient demigods to speak Could quench or slacken. First of human names Of Justice and the hidden Providence

In every Cretan's heart was Minos still; That walk among mankind. But yet meantime And holiest far, of what the Sun surveys The mystic pomp of Ammon's gloomy sons Through his whole course, were those primeval seats Became less pleasing. With contempt I gaz'd Which with religious footsteps he had taught On that tame garb and those unvarying paths Their sires to approach; the wild Dictæan care To which the double yoke of king and priest Where Jove was born; the ever-verdant meads Had cramp'd the sullen race. At last, with hymns Of Ida, and the spacious grotto, where Invoking our own Pallas and the gods

His active youth be pass'd, and where his throne.
Of cheerful Greece, a glad farewell I gave Yet stands mysterious; whither Minos came
To Egypt, and before the southern wind

Each ninth returning year, the king of gods
Spread my full sails. What climes I then survey'd, and mortals there in secret to consult
What fortunes I encounter'd in the realm On justice, and the tables of his law
Of Cræsus or upon the Cypriap shore,

To inscribe anex. Oft also with like zeal
The Muse, who prompts my bosom, doth not now Great Rhea's mansion from the Cnossian gates
Consent that I reveal. But when at length Men visit; nor less oft the antique fane
Ten times the Sun returning from the south Built on that sacred spot, along the banks
Had strow'd with flowers the rerdant Earth and filld of shady Theron, where benignant Jove
The groves with music, pleas'd I then beheld And his majestic consort joind their bands
The term of those long errours drawing nigh. And spoke their nuptial vows. Alas! 'twas there
Nor yet, I said, will I sit down within

That the dire fame of Athens sunk in bonds The walls of Athens, till my feet have trod I first receiv'd ; what time an annual feast The Cretan soil, have pierc'd those reverend haunts Had summon'd all the genial country round, Whence Law and Civil Concord issued forth By sacrifice and pomp to bring to mind As from their ancient home, and still to Greece That first great spousal; while the enamour'd youths Their wisest, loftiest discipline proclaim.

And virgins, with the priest before the shrine, Straight where Amnisus, mart of wealthy ships, Observe the same pure ritual, and invoke Appears beneath fam'd Cnossus and her towers The same glad omens. There, among the crowd Like the fair handmaid of a stately queen,

Of strangers from those naval cities drawn
I check'd my prow, and thence with eager steps Which deck, like gems, the island's northern shore,
The city of Minos enter'd. O ye gods,

A merchant of Ægina I describ’d,
Who taught the leaders of the simpler time My ancient host. But, forward as I sprung
By written words to curb the untoward will To meet him, he, with dark dejected brow,
Of mortals, how within that generous isle

Stopp'd half-averse; and, O Athenian guest,'
Have ye the triumphs of your power displayed He said, “art thou in Crete; these joyful rites
Munificent! Those splendid merchants, lords Partaking? Know thy laws are blotted out:
Of traffic and the sea, with what delight

Thy country kneels before a tyrant's throne.' I saw them at their public meal, like sons

He added names of men, with hostile deeds Of the same household, join the plainer sort Disastrous; which obscure and indistinct Whose wealth was only freedom! whence to these I heard : for, while he spake, my heart grew cold Vile Envy, and to those fantastic Pride,

And my eyes dim: the altars and their train Alike was strange; but noble Concord still No more were present to me: how I fard, Cherish'd the strength untam'd, the rustic faith, Or whither turn'd, I know not; nor recall Of their first fathers. Then the growing race, Aught of those moments other than the sense How pleasing to behold them in their schvols, Of one who struggles in oppressive sleep,

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And, from the toils of some distressful dream I wander'd through your calm recesses, led
To break away, with palpitating heart,

In silence by some powerful hand unseen. Weak limbs, and temples bath'd in death-like dew, Nor will I e'er forget you. Nor sball e'er Makes many a painful effort. When at last The graver tasks of manhood, or the advice The Sun and Nature's face again appear’d,

Of vulgar wisdoin, move me to disclaim Not far I found me; where the public path, Those studies which possess'd me in the dark Winding through cypress groves and swelling meads, of life, and fix'd the colour of my mind From Cnossus to the cave of Jove ascends.

For every future year; whence even now Heedless I follow'd on; till soon the skirts

From sleep I rescue the clear hours of mom, Of Ida rose before me, and the vault

And, while the world around lies overwhelm'd
Wide-opening pierc'd the mountain's rocky side. In idle darkness, am alive to thoughts
Entering within the threshold, on the ground Of honourable fame, of truth divine
Ifung me, sad, faint, overworn with toil.”

Or moral, and of minds fo virtue won
By the sweet magic of harmonious verse;
The themes which now expect us. For thus far
On general habits, and on arts which grow
Spontaneous in the minds of all mankind,
Hath dwelt our argument; and how self-taught,
Though seldom conscious of their own employ,

In Nature's or in Fortune's changeful scene

Men learn to judge of beauty, and acquire

Those forms set op, as idols in the soul

For love and zealous praise. Yet indistinct,
In vulgar bosoms, and unnotic'd lie
These pleasing stores, unless the casual force

Of things external prompt the heedless mind ONE effort more, one cheerful sally more,

To recognize her wealth. But some there are Our destin'd course will finish. And in peace Conscious of nature, and the rule which man Then for an offering sacred to the powers

O'er nature holds: some who, within themselves Who lent us gracious guidance, we will then Retiring from the trivial scenes of chance Inscribe a monument of deathless praise,

And momentary passion, can at will () my adventurous song. With steady speed Call up these fair exemplars of the mind; Long hast thou, on an untried voyage bound, Review their features ; scan the secret laws Sail'd between Earth and Heaven: hast now sur- Which bind them to each other : and display vey'd,

By forms, or sounds, or colours, to the sense Stretch'd out beneath thee, all the mazy tracts Of all the world their latent charms display : Of Passion and Opinion; like a waste

Even as in Nature's frame (if such a word, Of sands and flowery lawns and tangling woods, If such a word, so bold, may from the lips Where mortals roam bewilder'd: and hast now Of man proceed) as in this outward frame Exulting soar'd among the worlds above,

Of things, the Great Artificer portrays Or hover'd near the eternal gates of Heaven, His own iminense idea. Various names If haply the discourses of the gods,

These among mortals bear, as various signs A curious, but an unpresuming guest,

They use, and by peculiar organs speak Thou might'st partake, and carry back some strain To human sense. There are who by the flight Of divine wisdom, lawful to repeat,

Of air through tubes with moving stops distinct, And apt to be conceiv'd of man below.

Or by extended chords in measure taught A different task remains; the secret paths To vibrate, can assemble powerful sounds Of early genius to explore: to trace

Expressing every temper of the mind Those haunts where Fancy her predestin'd sons, From every cause, and charming all the soul Like to the demigods of old, doth nurse

With pass on void of care. Others mean time Remote from eyes profane. Ye happy souls The rugged mass of metal, wood, or stone, Who now her tender discipline obey,

Patiently taming; or with easier hand Where dwell ye? What wild rive,'s brink at eve Describing lines, and with more ample scope Imprint your steps? What solemn groves at noon Uniting colours ; can to general sight Use ye to visit, often breaking forth

Produce those permanent and perfect forms, In rapture 'mid your dilatory walk,

Those characters of heroes and of gods, Or musing, as in slumber, on the green?

Which from the crude materials of the world -Would I again were with you!-() ye dales Their own high minds created. But the chief Of Tyne, and ye most ancient woodlands; where, Are poets; eloquent men, who dwell on Earth Oft as the giant flood obliquely strides,

To clothe whate'er the soul admires or loves And his banks open, and his lawns extend,

With language and with numbers. Hence to these Stops short the pleased traveller to view

A field is open'd wide as Nature's sphere; Presiding o'er the scene some rustic tower

Nay, wider: various as the sudden acts Founded by Norman or by Saxon hands :

Of human wit, and vast as the demands O ye Northumbrian shades, which overlook Of human will. The bard nor length, nor depth, The rocky pavement and the mossy falls

Nor place, nor form controls. To eyes, to ears, Of solitary Wensbeck's limpid stream;

To every organ of the copious mind, How gladly I recall your well-known seats

He offereth all its treasures. Him the bours, Belov'd of old, and that delightful time

The seasons him obey: and changeful Time When all alone, for many a summer's day, Sees him at will keep measure with his flight,

At will outstrip it. To enhance his toil,

Nor where the boding raven chants, He summoneth from the uttermost extent

Nor near the owl's unhallowed haunts Of things which God hath taught him, every form

Will she her cares employ; Auxiliar, every power; and all beside

But flies from ruins and from tombs, Excludes imperious. His prevailing hand

From Superstition's horrid glooms,
Gives, to corporeal essence, life and sense

To day-light and to joy.
And every stately function of the soul.
The soul itself to him obsequious

Nor will she tempt the barren waste;
Like matter's passive heap; and as he wills, Nor deigns the lurking strength to taste
To reason and affection he assigns

Of any noxious thing; Their just alliances, their just degrees :

But leaves with scorn to Envy's use
Whence his peculiar honours; whence the race The insipid nightshade's baneful juice,
Of men who people his delightful world,

The nettle's sordid sting.
Men genuine and according to themselves,
Transcend as far the uncertain sons of Earth, From all which Nature fairest knows,
As Earth itself to his delightful world

The vernal blooms, the suminer rose,
The palm of spotless beauty doth resign.

She draws her blaineless wealth ;
And, when the generous task is done,
She consecrates a double boon,

To pleasure and to health,

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Os yonder verdant hilloc laid,
Where oaks and elms, a friendly shade,

O'erlook the falling stream,
O master of the Latin lyre,
A while with thee will I retire

From summer's noontide beam.

And, lo! within my lonely bower,
The industrious bee from many a flower

Collects her balmy dews:

For me," she sings, “ the gems are born, For me their silken robe adorn,

Their fragrant breath diffuse."
Sweet murmurer! may no rude storm
This hospitable scene deforin,

Nor check thy gladsome toils;
Still may the buds unsullied spring,
Still showers and sunshine court thy wing

To these ambrosial spoils.
Nor shall my Muse hereafter fail
Her fellow-labourer thee to hail;

Apd lucky be the strains !
For long ago did Nature frame
Your seasons and your arts the same,

Your pleasures and your pains.
Like thee, in lowly, sylvan scenes,
On river-banks and Aowery greens

My Muse delighted plays ;
Nor throngh the desert or the air,
Though swans or eagles triumph there,

With fond ambition strays.

But lo! on this deserted coast,

How faint the light! how chill the air!
Lo! arm'd with whirlwind, hail, and frost,

Fierce Winter desolates the year.
The fields resign their cheerful bloom;
No more the breezes breathe perfume;

No more the warbling waters roll:
Deserts of snow fatigue the eye;
Successive tempests bloat the sky,

And gloomy damps oppress the soul.
But let my drooping genius rise,

And hail the Sun's remotest ray:
Now, now he climbs the northern skies,

To morrow nearer than to day.
Then, louder howl the stormy waste,
Be sand and ocean worse defac'd,

Yet brighter hours are on the wing,
And Fancy, through the wintery gloom,
Radiant with dews and flowers in bloom,

Already hails the emerging Spring.

O fountain of the golden day,

Could mortal vows but urge thy speed,
How soon, before the vernal ray,

Should each unkindly damp recede!

i This Ode was afterwards entirely altered; as may be seen in the following poem. The reader will not be displeased to see it as it was originally written. N.


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How soon each tempest hovering fly,

But thou, my lyre, awake, arise, That now, fermenting, loads the sky,

And hail the Sun's returning force ; Prompt on our heads to burst amain,

Even now he climbs the northern skies, To rend the forest from the steep,

And Health and Hope attend his course. And, thundering o'er the Baltic deep,

Then louder howl the aërial waste, To 'whelm the merchant's hopes of gain! Be Earth with keener cold embrac'd,

Yet gentle Hours advance their wing ;
But let not man's imperfect views,

And Fancy, mocking Winter's might,
Presume to tax wise Nature's laws:

With flowers and dews and streaming light "sis his with silent joy to use

Already decks the new-born Spring.
The indulgence of the sovereign cause;
Secure that from the whole of things

O fountain of the golden day,
Beauty and good consummate springs,

Could mortal vows promote thy speed, Beyond what he can reach to know,

How soon before thy vernal ray And that the Providence of Heaven

Should each unkindly damp recede!
Has some peculiar blessing given

How soon each hovering tempest fly,
To each allotted state below.

Whose stores for mischief arm the sky,

Prompt on our heads to burst amain,
Ev'n now how sweet the wintery night

To rend the forest from the steep,
Spent with the old illustrious dead:

Or, thundering o'er the Baltic deep,
While, by the taper's trembling light,

To 'whelm the merchant's hopes of gain! I seem the awful course to tread; Where chiefs and legislators lie,

But let not man's unequal views
Whose triumphs move before my eye,

Presume o'er Nature and her laws:
With every laurel fresh display'd :

'Tis his with grateful joy to use While, charm'd, I rove in classic song,

The indulgence of the sovran cause;
Or bend to Freedom's fearless tongue,

Secure that health and beauty springs
Or walk the academic shade.

Through this majestic frame of things,

Beyond what he can reach to know ;
And that Heaven's all-subduing will,
With good the progeny of ill,

Attempereth every state below.
No. II.

How pleasing wears the wintery night,

Spent with the old illustrious dead!

While, by the taper's trembling light,

I seem those awful scenes to tread

Where chiefs or legislators lie,
Tue radiant ruler of the year

Whose triumphs move before my eye
At length his wintery goal attains;

In arms and antique pomp array'd;
Seems to reverse the long career,

While now I taste the Ionian song,
And northward bend his steady reins,

Now bend to Plato's godlike tongue
Now, piercing half Potosi's height,

Resounding through the olive shade.
Prone rush the fiery floods of light
Ripening the mountain's silver stores:

But should some cheerful, equal friend
While in some cavern's horrid shade,

Bid leave the studious page a while,
The panting Indian hides his head,

Let Mirth on Wisdom then attend,
And oft the approach of eve implores.

And social Ease on learned Toil.

Then while, at Love's uncareful shrine,
But lo, on this deserted coast

Each dictates to the god of wine
How pale the Sun! how thick the air !

Her name, whom all his hopes obey,
Mustering his storms, a sordid host,

What flattering dreams each bosom warın, Lo, Winter desolates the year :

While absence, heightening every charm, The fields resign their latest bloom;

Invokes the slow returning May!
No more the breezes waft perfume,
No more the streams in music roll:

May, thou delight of Heaven and Earth, But snows fall dark, or rains resound;

When will thy genial star arise ? And, while great Nature mourns around,

The auspicious morn, which gives thee birth, Her griefs infect the human soul.

Shall bring Eudora to my eyes.

Within her sylvan haunt behold,
Hence the loud city's busy throngs

As in the happy garden old,
Urge the warm bowl and splendid fire;

She moves like that primeval fair:
Harmonious dances, festive songs

Thither, ye silver-sounding lyres,
Against the spiteful Hearen conspire;

Ye tender smiles, ye chaste desires,
Meantime, perhaps, with tender fears

Fond hope and mutual faith, repair, Some village-dame the curfew hears,

While round the hearth her children play: And if believing Love can read At morn their father went abroad;

His better omens in her eye, The Moon is sunk, and deep the road;

Then shall my fears, O charming' maid, She sigas, and wonders at his stay.

And every pain of absence die :

Then shall my jocund harp, attun'd


just escap'd the faithless main, To thy true ear, with sweeter sound

Though driven unwilling on the land; Pursue the free Horatian song:

To guide your favour'd steps again, Old Tyne shall listen to my tale,

Behold your better genius stand: And Echo down the bordering vale

Where Truth revolves her page divine, The liquid melody prolong.

Where Virtue leads to Honour's shrine,

Behold, he lifts his awful hand.

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Oh fly! 'tis dire Suspicion's mien;
And, meditating plagues unseen,

The sorceress hither bends;
Behold her torch in gall imbrued :
Behold-her garment drops with blood

Of lovers and of friends.

Asay with this unmanly mood !

See where the hoary churl appears, Whose hand bath seiz'd the favourite good

Which you reserv'd for happier years:
While, side by side, the blushing maid
Shrinks from his visage, half afraid,

Spite of the sickly joy she wears.
Ye guardian powers of love and fame,

This chaste, harmonious pair behold;
And thus reward the generous flame

Of all who barter vows for gold.
O bloom of youth, O tender charms
Well buried in a dotard's arms !

O equal price of beauty sold!
Cease then to gaze with looks of love :

Bid her adica, the venal fair :
Unworthy she your bliss to prove;

Then wherefore should she prove your care?
No: lay your myrtle garland down;
And let a while the willow's crown

With luckier omens bind your hair.

Fly far! already in your eyes
I see a pale suffusion rise;

And soon through every vein,
Soon will her secret venom spread,
And all your heart, and all your head,

Imbibe the potent stain.

Then many a demon will she raise
To vex your sleep, to haunt your ways;

Wbile gleams of lost delight
Raise the dark tempest of the brain,
As lightuing shines across the main

Through whirlwinds and through night.

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