I. 2.

At distance here my alien footsteps stray,
O'er this bleak plain unbless'd with shade,
Imploring Fancy's willing aid

To bear me from thy banks of sordid clay:
Her barque the fairy lends,

With rainbow pennants deck'd, and cordage fine As the wan silkworm spins her golden twine, And, ere I seize the helm, the magic voyage ends.

I. 3.

Lo, where peaceful Camus glides
Through his osier-fringed vale,

Sacred Leisure there resides

Musing in his cloister pale.

Wrapp'd in a deep solemnity of shade,
Again I view fair Learning's spiry seats,
Again her ancient elms o'erhang my head,
Again her votary Contemplation meets,
Again I listen to Eolian lays,

Or on those bright heroic portraits gaze,
That to my raptured eye the classic page displays.

II. 1.

Here, though from childhood to the Muses
known,

The Lyric Queen her charms reveal'd;
Here, by superior influence held

My soul enchain'd, and made me all her own.
Reecho every plain!

While, from the chords she tuned, the silver voice Of heavenborn harmony proclaims the choice My youthful heart has made to all Aonia's train.

II. 2.

Here too each social charm that most endears:
Sincerity with open eye,

And frolic Wit, and Humour sly,
Sat sweetly mix'd among my young compeers.
When, o'er the sober bowl,

That but dispell'd the mind's severer gloom, And gave the budding thought its perfect bloom, Truth took its circling course, and flow'd from soul to soul.

II. 3.

Hail, ye friendly faithful few!

All the streams that Science pours,

Ever pleasing, ever new,

From her ample urn be yours.

When, when shall I amid your train appear, O, when be number'd with your constant

guests,

When join your converse, when applauding hear The mental music of accordant breasts? Till then, fair Fancy! wake these favourite themes,

Still kindly shed these visionary gleams, Till suns autumnal rise, and realize my dreams.

ODE V.

FOR MUSIC'.

IRREGULAR.

HERE all thy active fires diffuse,

Thou genuine British Muse;

Hither descend from yonder orient sky,
Clothed in thy heaven-wove robe of harmony.
Come, imperial Queen of Song;

Come with all that free-born grace
Which lifts thee from the servile throng
Who meanly mimic thy majestic pace;
That glance of dignity divine,

Which speaks thee of celestial line,
Proclaims thee inmate of the sky,
Daughter of Jove and Liberty.

The elevated soul, that feels
Thy awful impulse, walks the fragrant ways
Of honest unpolluted praise:
He with impartial justice deals
The blooming chaplets of immortal lays:
He flies above ambition's low career;

And, throned in Truth's meridian sphere, Thence, with a bold and heaven-directed aim, Full on fair Virtue's shrine he pours the rays

Fame.

of

1 This Ode was written at the request of the Vice-Chancellor of Cambridge, set to music by the late Dr. Boyce, and performed in the Senate House at Cambridge, July 1, 1749, at the installation of his Grace Thomas Hollis, Duke of Newcastle, Chancellor of the University.

Goddess! thy piercing eye explores
The radiant range of beauty's stores,
The steep ascent of pine-clad hills,
The silver slope of falling rills;
Catches each lively colour'd grace,
The crimson of the woodnymph's face,
The verdure of the velvet lawn,

The purple of the eastern dawn,

And all the tints that, ranged in vivid glow,
Mark the bold sweep of the celestial bow.

But loftier far her tuneful transports rise,
When all the moral beauties meet her eyes:
The sacred zeal for Freedom's cause,
That fires the glowing patriot's breast;
The honest pride that plumes the hero's crest,
When for his country's aid the steel he draws:
Or that the calm yet active heat,

With which mild Genius warms the Sage's
heart,

To lift fair Science to a loftier seat,

Or stretch to ampler bounds the wide domain of art. These, the best blossoms of the virtuous mind, She culls with taste refined;

From their ambrosial bloom

With beelike skill she draws the rich perfume, And blends the sweets they all convey

In the soft balm of her mellifluous lay.

Is there a clime, in one collected beam,

Where charms like these their varied radiance stream?

Is there a plain, whose genial soil inhales

Glory's invigorating gales,

Her brightest beams where Emulation spreads,
Her kindliest dews where Science sheds,
Where every stream of Genius flows,
Where every flower of Virtue glows?
Thither the Muse exulting flies,
There loudly cries-

Majestic Granta! hail thy awful name,
Dear to the Muse, to Liberty, to Fame.

You too, illustrious train, she greets,
Who first in these inspiring seats
Caught that etherial fire

That prompts you to aspire

To deeds of civic note: whether to shield
From base chicane your country's laws;
To pale Disease the bloom of health to yield;
Or in Religion's hallow'd cause

Those heavenly temper'd arms to wield, That drive the foes of faith indignant from the field.

And now she tunes her plausive song

Το you her sage

domestic throng;

Who here at Learning's richest shrine,
Dispense to each ingenuous youth
The treasures of immortal Truth,
And open Wisdom's golden mine.
Each youth, inspired by your persuasive art,
Clasps the dear form of Virtue to his heart;
And feels in his transported soul

Enthusiastic raptures roll,

Generous as those the Sons of Cecrops caught In hoar Lyceum's shades from Plato's fire-clad

thought.