To what new clime, what distant sky,
Forsaken, friendless, shall ye fly?
Say, will ye bless the bleak atlantic shore?
Or bid the furious Gaul be rude no more?

STROPHE II.

When Athens sinks by fates unjust,
When wild barbarians spurn her dust,
Perhaps e'en Britain's utmost shore

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Shall cease to blush with strangers' gore:

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See arts her savage sons controul,

And Athens rising near the pole!

'Till some new tyrant lifts his purple hand, And civil madness tears them from the land.

ANTISTROPHE II.

Ye gods! what justice rules the ball?
Freedom and arts together fall;

Fools grant whate'er Ambition craves,
And men, once ignorant, are slaves.
Oh curst effects of civil hate,

In ev'ry age, in ev'ry state!

Still, when the lust of tyrant pow'r succeeds,
Some Athens perishes, some Tully bleeds.

CHORUS OF YOUTHS AND VIRGINS.

SEMICHORUS.

OH tyrant Love! hast thou possest
The prudent, learn'd, and virtuous breast?
Wisdom and wit in vain reclaim,

And arts but soften us to feel thy flame.

Love, soft intruder, enters here,

But ent'ring learns to be sincere.

Marcus with blushes owns he loves,
And Brutus tenderly reproves.

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Why, Virtue, dost thou blame desire

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Which Nature hath imprest?
Why, Nature, dost thou soonest fire

The mild and gen'rous breast?

CHORUS.

Love's purer flames the gods approve;
The gods and Brutus bend to love:

Brutus for absent Porcia sighs,

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And sterner Cassius melts at Junia's eyes.

What is loose love? a transient gust,
Spent in a sudden storm of lust,
A vapour fed from wild desire,
A wand'ring, self-consuming fire.
But Hymen's kinder flames unite,
And burn for ever one;

Chaste as cold Cynthia's virgin light,
Productive as the sun.

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SEMICHORUS.

Oh, source of ev'ry social tie,

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United wish, and mutual joy!

What various joys on one attend,

As son, as father, brother, husband, friend!
Whether his hoary sire he spies,

While thousand grateful thoughts arise;

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Or meets his spouse's fonder eye,

Or views his smiling progeny;

What tender passions take their turns,

What home-felt raptures move!

His heart now melts, now leaps, now burns, 35
With rev'rence, hope, and love.

CHORUS.

Hence guilty joys, distastes, surmises,
Hence false tears, deceits, disguises,
Dangers, doubts, delays, surprises,

Fires that scorch, yet dare not shine.
Purest love's unwasting treasure,
Constant faith, fair hope, long leisure,
Days of ease, and nights of pleasure ;
Sacred Hymen! these are thine.

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ELEGY

TO THE MEMORY OF

AN UNFORTUNATE LADY.

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WHAT beck'ning ghost along the moon-light shade Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade? 'Tis she!....but why that bleeding bosom gor'd? Why dimly gleams the visionary sword? Oh ever beauteous, ever friendly! tell, Is it, in heav'n, a crime to love too well? To bear too tender or too firm a heart, To act a lover's or a Roman's part? Is there no bright reversion in the sky

For those who greatly think, or bravely die?

Who bade ye else, ye Pow'rs, her soul aspier
Above the vulgar flight of low desire?
Ambition first sprung from your blest abodes,
The glorious fault of angels and of gods :
Thence to their images on earth it flows,
And in the breasts of kings and heroes glows.

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