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should have avoided their censure. | The heat that offended them is the ardour of conviction, I and that zeal for the service of my country | which neither hope nor fear | shall influence me to suppress.

I will not sit unconcerned | while my liberty is invaded, I nor look in silence upon public robbery. | I will exert my endeavours, at whatever hazard, I to repel the aggressor, I and drag the thief to justice, I what power soever may protect the villany, I and whoever may partake of the plunder. I


(AKENSIDE.) From heaven my strains begin; from heaven descends The flame of genius to the human breast, I And love, and beauty, and poetic joy, And inspiration. | Ere the radiant sun Sprang from the east, I or 'mid the vault of night | The moon suspended her serener lamp ; | Ere mountains, woods, or streams adorn'd the globe, I Or Wisdom taught the sons of men her lore; | Then lived the Almighty ONE; I then, deep retired, In his unfathom’d essence, I view'd the forms, | The forms eternal of created things; The radiant sun, the moon's nocturnal lamp, I The mountains, woods, and streams, | the rolling globe, I And Wisdom's mien celestial.

From the first Of days, I on them his love divine he fix'd, 1 His admiration : I till, in time complete, What he admired and loved, his vital smile Unfolded into being. Hence the breath Of life informing each organic frame, Hence the green earth, and wild resounding waves ; | Hence light and shade alternate; I warmth and cold, 1 And clear autumnal skies, and vernal showers, And all the fair variety of things. I

But not alike to every mortal eye
Is this great scene unveil'd. | For, since the claims
Of social life, I to different labours urge
The active powers of man, / with wise intent |
The hand of Nature on peculiar minds
Imprints a different bias, I and to each
Decrees its province in the common toil. I
To some she taught the fabric of the sphere,
The changeful moon, the circuit of the stars,
The golden zones of heaven:) to some she gave
To weigh the moment of eternal things, |
Of time, and space, and Fate's unbroken chain,
And will's quick impulse ; | others by the hand |
She led o'er vales and mountains, I to explore
What healing virtue I swells the tender veins
Of herbs and flowers ; | or what the beams of morn
Draw forth, I distilling from the clifted rind
In balmy tears.

But some to higher hopes
Were destin'd; some within a finer mould
She wrought, I and temper'd with a purer flame:
To these the Sire Omnipotent | unfolds
The world's harmonious volume, / there to read
The transcript of himself. | On every part |
They trace the bright impressions of his hand ; |
In earth or air, 1 the meadow's purple stores,
The moon's mild radiance, I or the virgin's form, I
Blooming with rosy smiles, they see pourtray'd
That uncreated beauty which delights
The Mind Supreme. Ì They also feel her charms,
Enamour'd; I they partake the eternal joy. I


Say, why was man so eminently raised
Amid the vast creation ? | why ordain'd
Thro’ life and death | to dart his piercing eye, I

With thought beyond the limit of his frame, |
But that the Omnipotent might send him forth,
In sight of mortal and immortal powers,

As on a boundless theatre, I to run
The great career of justice: to exalt
His generous aim to all diviner deeds; 1
To chase each partial purpose from his breast ; |
And thro' the mists of passion and of sense,
And thro' the tossing tide of chance and pain,
To hold his course unfaltering, I while the voice
Of Truth and Virtue, I up the steep ascent
Of Nature, I calls him to his high reward, 1
The applauding smile of Heaven? |

Else wherefore burns
In mortal bosom this unquenched hope, I
That breathes from day to day sublimer things, I
And mocks possession? Wherefore darts the mind, I
With such resistless ardour | to embrace
Majestic forms, | impatient to be free; i
Spurning the gross control of wilful might;
Proud of the strong contention of her toils ; |
Proud to be daring? | Who but rather turns
To Heaven's broad fire his unconstrained view, I
Than to the glimmering of a waxen flame? |
Who that, from Alpine heights, I his labouring eye
Shoots round the wide horizon, I to survey
Nilus or Ganges rolling his bright wave |
Thro' mountains, plains, thro' empires black with shade,
And continents of sand, I will turn his gazel
To mark the windings of a scanty rill |
That murmurs at his feet? |

The high-born soul |
Disdains to rest her heaven aspiring wing |
Beneath its native quarry. | Tired of earth
And this diurnal scene, I she springs aloft
Thro' fields of air; I pursues the flying storm;
Rides on the volley'd lightning thro' the heavens ; |
Or, yoked with whirlwinds and the northern blast

Sweeps the long tract of day. | Then high she soars
The blue profound, and hovering round the sun,
Beholds him pouring the redundant stream
Of light ; i beholds his unrelenting sway.
Bend the reluctant planets to absolve
The fated rounds of time. | Thence far effused |
She darts her swiftness up the long career
Of devious comets: thro' its burning signs
Exulting measures the perennial wheel
Of Nature, and looks back on all the stars,
Whose blended light, as with a milky zone,
Invests the orient. I

Now amazed she views
The empyreal waste, I where happy spirits hold, I
Beyond this concave heaven, I their calm abode ; !
And fields of radiance, / whose unfading light |
Has travell’d the profound six thousand years, I
Nor yet arrives in sight of mortal things. I
Ev'n on the barriers of the world untired |
She meditates the eternal depth below, |
Till, half recoiling, down the headlong steep
She plunges; I soon o'erwhelm’d and swallowed up !
In that immense of being. |

There her hopes Rest at the fatal goal : ) for, from the birth Of mortal man, I the sovereign Maker said, That not in humble nor in brief delight, Not in the fading echoes of renown, Power's purple robes, | nor Pleasure's flowery lap, ! The soul should find enjoyment ; | but, from these Turning disdainful to an equal good, Thro' all the ascent of things enlarge her view, | Till every bound at length should disappear, And infinite perfection close the scene. I



(FRANKLIN.) Some wit of old — such wits of old there were, I Whose hints show'd meaning, I whose allusions care, By one brave stroke, I to mark all human kind, Calld clear blank paper ev'ry infant mind ; | Where, still, as opening sense her dictates wrote, I Fair Virtue put a seal, | or Vice, a blot.) The thought was happy, pertinent, and true; / Methinks a genius might the plan pursue. | I can you pardon my presumption ?), I, No wit

, no genius, 1 yet, for once, will try. I Various the paper, various wants produce ; 1 The wants of fashion | elegance, and use. I Men are as various;and if right I scan, Each sort of paper / represents some man. | Pray note the fop, I half powder and half lace; | Nice, as a band-box were his dwelling place; | He's the gilt-paper, which apart you store, And lock from vulgar hands in the scrutoire. Mechanics, servants, farmers, and so forth, Are copy-paper, I of inferior worth ;] Less priz'd, I more useful, | for your desk decreed ; 1 Free to all pens, and prompt at ev'ry need. The wretch, whom avarice bids to pinch and spare, Starve, cheat, and pilfer, to enrich an heir, Is coarse brown paper, I such as pedlars choose | To wrap up wares, / which better men will use. Take next the miser's contrast, ! who destroys | Health, fame, and fortune, in a round of joys;

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