Now give the hautboys breath; he comes! he comes! Bacchus, ever fair and young, Drinking joys did firft ordain : Sweet the pleasure; Sweet is pleasure after pain. Sooth'd with the found, the king grew vain : → And thrice he rooted all his foes; and thrice he flew the flain. The master saw the madness rise ; His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes; Soft pity to infufe: He fung Darius great and good, By too fevere a fate, Fall'n, fall'n, fall'n, fall'n, Fall'n from his high estate, With not a friend to close his eyes. With downcaft looks the joyless victor fate, The various turns of fate below; The mighty mafter fmil'd to fee 'Twas but a kindred found to move; If the world be worth thy winning, Take the good the gods provide thee. Who caus'd his care, And figh'd and look'd, and figh'd and look'd At length, with love and wine at once opprefs'd, Now firike the golden lyre again; And roufe him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Has rais'd up his head; As awak'd from the dead, And amaz'd, he ftares around. See the furies arife, See the fnakes that they rear, How they hifs in the air, And the fparkles that flash from their eyes! Behold a ghaftly band, Each a torch in his hand; These are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain, And unbury'd remain To the valiant crew : Behold how they tofs their torches on high, To light him to his prey, And, like another Helen, fir'd another Troy. Thus, long ago, Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow, While organs yet were mute; Timotheus to his breathing flute And founding lyre, Could swell the foul to rage, or kindle foft defire. Inventress of the vocal frame; Or both divide the crown; CHAPTER XXXIV. THE CURATE A FRAGMENT, O'ER the pale embers of a dying fire, 'Twas Sunday's eve, meet season to prepare At many a church to preach with tedious ride. . On these he cast a fond, but tearful eye, Awhile he paus'd, for forrow dimm'd his fight; Arous'd at length, he heav'd a bitter figli, And thus complain'd, as well indeed he might: "Hard is the fcholar's lot, condemn'd to fail 66 Unpatroniz'd, o'er life's tempestuous wave; "Clouds blind his fight; nor blows a friendly gale, "To waft him to one port-except the grave. "Big with prefumptive hope, I launch'd my keel, "With youthful ardour, and bright fcience fraught "Unanxious of the pains long doom'd to feel, 66 Unthinking that the voyage might end in naught.. "Pleas'd on the summer fea, I danc'd awhile, "With gay companions, and with views as fair "Outstripp'd by these, I'm left to humble toil, "My fondeft hope abandon'd in despair. "Had my ambitious mind been led to rife "To highest flights, to Crofier, and to Pall, "Scarce could I mourn the miffing of the prize, "For foaring wishes well deferve their fall. "No tow'ring thoughts like thefe engag'd my breaft, "Where, in my narrow fphere secure, at ease, The ilave of wealthy pride and prieftly pow'r. "Oft as in ruffet weeds I fcour along, "In diftant chapels haftily to pray, "By nod fcarce notic'd of the paffing throng, "Sad penury, as was in cottage known, "With all its frowns, does o'er my roof prefide. Ah! not for me the harvest yields its store, "The bough-crown'd fhock in vain attracts mine eye; "To labour doom'd, and deftin'd to be poor, I pafs the field, 1 hope not envious, by. "When at the altar, furplice clad, I stand, "The bridegroom's joy draws forth the golden fee; "The gift I take, but dare not close my hand; "The fplendid prefent centres not in me. PENROSE, |