W IN E:

A POE M.

“Nulla placere diu, nec vivere carmina possunt,
“Quæ fcribuntur aquæ potoribus.”

F happiness terreftrial, and the fource

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Whence human pleasures flow, fing, Heavenly Mufe;
Of fparkling juices, of th' enlivening grape,
Whofe quickening taste adds vigour to the foul,
Whofe fovereign power revives decaying Nature,
And thaws the frozen blood of hoary age,
A kindly warmth diffufing; - youthful fires
Gild his dim eyes, and paint with ruddy hue
His wrinkled vifage, ghaftly wan before:
Cordial reftorative to mortal man,

With copious hand by bounteous gods bestow'd!
Bacchus divine, aid my adventurous fong,
That with no middle flight intends to foar :
Infpir'd, fublime, on Pegafean wing,
By thee upborne, I draw Miltonic air.

When fumy vapours clog our loaded brows
With furrow'd frowns; when ftupid, downcast eyes,
Th' external fymptoms of remorfe within,
Express our grief; or when in fullen dumps,
With head incumbent on expanded palm,
Moping we fit, in filent forrow drown'd:
Whether inveigling Hymen has trepann'd

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Th'

coy repulfe;

Th' unwary youth, and tied the Gordian knot
Of jangling wedlock not to be diffolv'd;
Worry'd all day by loud Xantippe's din,
Who fails not to exalt him to the ftars,
And fix him there among the branched crew
(Taurus, and Aries, and Capricorn,
The greatest monfiers of the Zodiac):
Or for the lofs of anxious worldly pelf,
Or Cælia's fcornful flights, and cold difdain,
Which check'd his amorous flame with
The worst events that mortals can befall:
By cares deprefs'd, in penfive hyppish mood,
With floweft pace the tedious minutes roll.
Thy charming fight, but much more charming guft,
New life incites, and warms our chilly blood.
Strait with pert looks, we raise our drooping fronts,
And pour in cryftal pure, thy purer juice;
With chearful countenance and fteady hand
Raife it lip-high, then fix the fpacious rim
To the expecting mouth; with grateful taste,
The ebbing wine glides fwiftly o'er the tongue;
The circling blood with quicker motion flies:
Such is thy powerful influence, thou strait
Difpell'ft thofe clouds, that, louring dark, eclips'd
The whilom glories of the gladfome face;

While dimpled cheeks, and sparkling, rolling eyes,
Thy chearing virtues and thy worth proclaim.

So mitts and exhalations, that arise

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From bills or fteamy lake, dufky or grey,

Prevail; till Phoebus fheds Titanian rays,

And paints their fleecy skirts with shining gold :
Unable to refift, the foggy damps,

That veil'd the surface of the verdant fields,
At the god's penetrating beams difperfe;
The earth again in former beauty fmiles,
In gaudieft livery dreft, all gay and clear.
When disappointed Strephon meets repulse,
Scoff'd at, defpis'd, in melancholic mood,
Joylefs he wastes in fighs the lazy hours;
Till, reinforc'd by thy moft potent aid,

He ftorms the breach, and wins the beauteous fort.
To pay thee homage, and receive thy bleffing,
The British feaman quits his native fhore,
And ventures through the tracklefs, deep abyfs,
Plowing the ocean, while the upheav'd oak,
"With beaked prow, rides tilting o'er the waves ;"
Shock'd by tempeftuous jarring winds, she rolls

In dangers imminent, till she arrives

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At those bleft climes thou favour'st with thy presence.
Whether at Lufitania's fultry coaft,
Or lofty Teneriff, Palma, Ferro,
Provence, or at the Celtiberian fhores;
With gazing pleasure and astonishment
At Paradife (feat of our ancient fire)

He thinks himself arriv'd; the purple grapes,
In largest clusters pendant, grace the vines
Innumerous; in fields grotesque and wild
They with implicit curls the oak entwine,
And load with fruit divine his spreading boughs;
Sight moft delicious! not an irkfome thought,

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Or

Or of left native ifle, or abfent friends,

Or dearest wife, or tender fucking babe,

His kindly-treacherous memory now presents;
The jovial God has left no room for cares.

Celestial liquor! thou that didft inspire
Maro and Flaccus, and the Grecian bard,
With lofty numbers, and heroic strains
Unparallel'd, with eloquence profound,
And arguments convictive, didft enforce
Fam'd Tully, and Demofthenes renown'd:
Ennius, first fam'd in Latin fong, in vain
Drew Heliconian ftreams, ungrateful whet
To jaded Mufe, and oft', with vain attempt,
Heroic acts, in flagging numbers dull,
With pains effay'd; but, abject still and low,
His unrecruited Mufe could never reach
The mighty theme, till, from the purple fount
Of bright Lenæan fire, her barren drought
He quench'd, and with inspiring nectarous juice,
Her drooping fpirits chear'd; aloft fhe towers,
Borne on ftiff pennons, and of war's alarms,
And trophies won, in loftieft numbers fings:
'Tis thou the hero's breaft to martial acts,
And refolution bold, and ardour brave,
Excit'st thou check'ft inglorious, lolling eafe,
And fluggish minds with generous fires inflam'ft.
O thou, that first my quicken'd foul didst warm,
Still with thy aid affift me, that thy praise,
Thy univerfal fway o'er all the world,

In everlasting numbers, like the theme,

I may record, and fing thy matchlefs worth.
VOL. I.

U

Had the Oxonian bard thy praise rehears'd,
His Mufe had yet retain'd her wonted height;
Such as of late o'er Blenheim's field the foar'd
Aërial: now in Ariconian bogs

She lies inglorious floundering, like her theme
Languid and faint, and on damp wing, immerg'd
In acid juice, in vain attempts to rife.

With what fublimeft joy from noify town,
At rural feat, Lucretelus retir'd:
Flaccus, untainted by perplexing cares,
Where the white poplar, and the lofty pine,

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Join neighbouring boughs, fweet hofpitable fhade 125
Creating, from Phoebean rays fecure,

A cool retreat, with few well-chosen friends,
On flowery mead recumbent, spent the hours
In mirth innocuous, and alternate verfe!
With roles interwoven, poplar wreaths
Their temples bind, drefs of fylveftrian gods!
Choiceft nectarean juice crown'd largest bowls,
And overlook'd the brim, alluring fight,
Of fragrant fcent, attractive, taste divine!
Whether from Formain-grape deprefs'd, Falern,
Or Setin, Maffic, Gauran, or Sabine,

Lesbian or Cœcuban, the chearing bowl

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Mov'd brifkly round, and spurr'd their heighten'd wit To fing Mæcenas' praife, their patron kind.

But we not as our priftine fires repair

T' umbrageous grot or vale; but, when the fun
Faintly from western fkies his rays oblique

Darts floping, and to Thetis' watery lap

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Haftens