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This tenement of dust: thy stretching sight The palpable obscure. Before thy eyes,
Surveys th' harmonious principles, that inove The vanqnish'd night throws off her dusky shrowd,
In beauteous rack and order, to inform

And kindles into day : the shade, and light, 'This cask, and animated mass of clay.

To man still various, but the same to thee. Nor are the prospects of thy wondrous sight

On thee, is all the structure of my frame To this terrestrial part of man contin'd;

Dependant. Lock'd within the silent womb, But shoot into his soul, and there discern

Sleeping I lay, anil ripening to my birtu ; The first materials of unfashion'd thought,

Yet, Lord, thy out-stretch'd arm preserv'd me Yet dim and undigested, till the mind,

Before I mov'd to entity, and trod (there; Big with the tender images, expands,

The verge of being. To thy hallow'd name And, swelling, labours with th' ideal birth. I'll pay due honours ; for thy mighty hand

Where-e'er I move, thy cares pursue my feet Built this corporeal fabric, when it laid Attendant. When I drink the dews of sleep, The ground-work of existence. Hence, I read Stretch'd on my downy bed, and there enjoy The wonders of thy art This frame I view A sweet forgetfulness of all iny toils,

With terrour and delight; and wrapt in both, Unseen, thy sovereign presence guards my sleep, I startle at myself. My bones, unform'd Wafts all the terrours of my dreains away,

As yet, nor hardening from the viscous parts, Sooths all my soul, and softens my repose.

But blended with th' unanimated mass, Before conception can employ the tongue, Thy eye distinctly view'd ; and while I liy And mould the ductile images to sound ;

Within the earth, imperfect, nor perceiv'd Before imagination stands display'd,

The first faint dawn of life, with ease survey'd
Thine eye the future eloquence can read,

The vital glimmerings of the active seeds,
Yet unarray'd with speech. Thoa, mighty Lord! Just kindling to existence ; and beheld
Hast moulded man from his congenial dust, My substance scarce material. In thy book,
And spoke him into being; while the clay,

Was the fair model of this structure drawn,
Beneath thy forming hand, leap'd forth, inspir'd, Where every part, in just connection join'd,
And started into life: through every part, Compos'd and perfected th' harmonious piece,
At thy command, the wheels of motion play'd. Ere the dim speck of being learn'd to stretch

But such exalted knowledge leaves below Its ductile form, or entity had known And drops poor man from its superior sphere. To range and wanton in an ampler space. In vain, with reason's bailast, would he try

How dear, how rooted in my inmost soul,
To stem th' unfathomable depth ; his bark Are all thy counsels, and the various ways
O'er-sets, and founders in the vast abyss.

Of thy eternal providence! The sum
Then whither shall the rapid fancy run, So boundless and immense, it leaves behind
Though in its full career, to speed my flight The low account of numbers ! and out-flies
From thy unbounded presence? which, alone, All that imagination e're conceiv'd,
Fills all the regions and extended space

Less numerous are the sands that crowd the shores,
Beyond the bounds of nature ! Whither, Lord ! The barriers of the Ocean. When I rise
Shall my unrein'd imagination rove,

From my soft bed, and softer joys of sleep, To leave behind thy spirit, and out.fly

I rise to thee. Yet lo! the impious slight Its influence, which, with brooding wings, out-spread Thy mighty wouders. Shall the sons of vice Hatch'd unfledg'd Nature from the dark profound. Elude the vengeance of thy wrathful band

If mounted on my towering thoughts I climb And mock thy lingering thunder, which with-holds Into the Heaven of Heavens; I there bebold Its forky terrours from their guilty heads ? The blaze of thy unclouded majesty!

Thou great tremendous God !--Avaunt, and fly, In the pure empyrean thee I view,

All ye who thirst for blood.-Por, swoln with pride, High thron'd above all height, thy radiant shrine, Each haughty wretch blasphemes thy sacred name, Throng'd with the prostrate seraphs, who receive And bellows his reproaches to affront Beatitude past utterance ! If I plunge

Thy glorious Majesty. Thy foes I hate Down to the gloom of Tartarus profound,

Worse than my own, O Lord ! Explore my soul, There too I find thee, in the lowest bounds See if a flaw or stain of sin infects Of Erebus, and read thee, in the scenes

My guilty thoughts. Then, lead me in the way Of complicated wrath : I see thee clad

That guides my feet to thy own Heaven and thee. In all the majesty of darkness there.

If, on the ruddy morning's purple wings
Up-born, with indefatigable course,
I seek the glowing borders of the East,

PSALM CXLIV.
Where the bright Sun, emergent from the deeps,
With his first glories gilds the sparkling seas,
And trembles o'er the waves ; ev'n there, thy hand My soul, in raptures rise to bless the Lord,
Shall through the watery desert guide my course, Who taught my hands to draw the fatal sword;
And o'er the broken surges pave my way,

Led by his arm, undaunted I appear
While on the dreadful whirles I hang secure, In the first ranks of death, and front of war.
And mock the warring Ocean. If, with hopes, He taught me first the pointed spear to wield,
As fond as false, the darkness I expect

And mow thc glorious harvest of the field.
To hide, and wrap me in its mantling shade, By him inspir’d, from strength to strength I past,
Vain were the thought : for thy unbounded ken Plung'd through the troops, and laid the battle ·
Darts through the thickening gloom, and pries In him my hopes I centre and repose, (waste.
through all

He guards my life, and shields me from my foes. VOL XII.

с с

PARAPHRASED.

ne held his ample buckler o'er my head,
And screen'd me trembling in the mighty shade :

JOB, CHAP. III.
Against all hostile violence and power,
He was my sword, my bulwark, and my tower.

Jos cursid his birth, and bade his curses flow He o'er my people will maintain my sway,

In words of grief, and eloquence of woe; And teach my willing subjects to obey.

Lost be that day which drayg'd me to my doom, Lord! what is man, of vile and humble birth, Recent to life, and struggling from the womb; Sprung with this kindred reptiles from the earth, Whose beams with such malignant lustre shone, That he should thus thy secret counsels share? Whence all my years in anxious circles run. Or what his son, who challenges thy care? Lost be that night in undetermin'd space, Why does thine eye regard this nothing, man? And veil with deeper shades her gloomy face, His life a point, his ineasure but a span?

Which crowded up with woes this slender span, The fancy'd pageant of a moment made,

While the dull mass rose quickening into man. Swift as a dream, and fleeting as a shade.

O'er that curs'd day let sable darkness rise, Come in thy power, and leave th' etherea) plain, Shrowd the blue vault, and blacken all the skies ; And to thy harness'd tempest give the rein ; May God o'er-look it from his heavenly thtone, Yon starry arch shall bend beneath the load, Nor rouse from sleep the sedentary Sun, So loud the chariot, and so great the God! O'er its dark face to shed his genial ray, Soon as bis rapid wheels Jehovah rolls,

And warın to joy the melancholy day. The folding skies shall tremble to the poles : May the clouds frown, and livid poisons breathe, Heaven's gaudy axle with the world shall fall, And stain heaven's azure with the shade of death. Leap froin the centre, and unlinge the ball.

May tenfold darkness from that dreadful night Touch'd by thy hands, the labouring hills expire Seize aud arrest the straggling gleams of light; Thick clouds of sinoke, and deluges of fire; 'To pay due vengeance for its fatal crime, On the tall gruves the red destroyer preys,

Still be it banish'd from the train of Time; And u raps th' eternal mountains in the blaze: Nor in the radiant list of months appear, Full on my foes may all thy lightnings fly, To stain the shining circle of the year : On purple pinions through the gloomy sky. There through her dusky range may silence roain,

Extend thy band, thou kind all-gracious God, There may no ray, no glimpse of gladness come, Down from the Heaven of Heavens thy bright abode, No voice to cheer the solitary gloom. And shield me from my foes, whose towering pride May every star his gaudy light with-hold, Lowers like a storm, and gathers like a tide: Nor through the vapour shoot his beamy gold : Against strange children vindicate my cause,

Nor let tiie dawn with radiant skirts come on, Who curse thy name, and trample on thy laws; Tipp'd with the glories of the rising Sun; Who fear not vengeance which they never felt, Because that dreadful period fix'd my doom, Train'd to blaspheme, and eloquent in guilt: Nor seal'd the dark recesses of the womb. Their hands are impious, and their deeds profane, To that original my ills I owe, They plead their boasted innocence in vain. Heir of affliction, and the son of woe. Thy name shall dwell for ever on my tongue,

Oh! had I dy'd unexercis'd in pain, And guide the sacred numbers of my song;

And wak’d to life, to sleep in death again! To thee my Muse shall consecrate her lays, Why did not Fate attend me at my birth, And every note shall labour in thy praise; And give me back to my congenial earth? The hallow'd theme shall teach me how to sing, Why was I, when an infant, sooth'd to rest, Swell on the lyre, and tremble on the string. Luild on the knee, or hung upon the breast ?

Oft has thy hand from fight the monarch led, For now the grave would all my cares compose, When death flew raging, and the battle bled ; Conceal my sorrows, and inter my woos: And snatch'd thy servant in the last despair There wrapp'd and lock'd within his cold embrace, From all the rising tumult of the war.

Safe had i slumber'd in the arms of peace; Against strange children vindicate my cause, There with the mighty kings, who lie enrollid Wbo curse thy name, and trample on thy laws; In clouds of incense, and in beds of gold : That our fair sons may sinile in early bloom, There with the princes, who in grandeur shone, Our sons, the hopes of all our years to come : And aw'd the trembling nations from the throne ; Like plants that nursid by fostering showers arise, Amicted Job an equal rest might have, And lift their spreading honours to the skies. And share the dark retirement of the grave ; That our cbaste daughters may their charms dis. Or as a shapeless embryo seek the tomb, play,

Rude and imperfect from the abortive womb : Like the bright pillars of our temple, gay, Ere motion's early principle began, Polish'd, and tall, and smooth, and fair as they. Or the dim substance kindled into man. Piled up with plenty let our barns appear,

There from their monstrous crimes the wicked and burst with all the seasons of the year ;

cease, Let pregnant flocks in every quarter bleat,

Their labouring guilt is weary'd into peace ; And drop their tender young in every street. There blended sleep the coward and the brave, Safe from their labours may our oxen come, Stretch'd, with his lord, the undistinguish'd slave Safe may they bring the gather'd summer home. Enjoys the cornmon refuge of the grave. Oh! may no sighs, no streams of sorrow fow, An equal lot the mighty victor shares, To stain our triumphs with the tears of woe, And lies amidst the captives of his wars;

Bless'd is the nation, how sincerely bless'd! With his, those captives mingle their remains, Of such unbounded happiness possess'd,

The same in death, nor lessen'd by their chains. To whom Jehovah's sacred name is known,

Why are we doom'd to view the genial ray? Who claim the God of Israel for their own. Why curst to hear the painful light of day?

PARAPHRASED.

Oh! with what joy the wretches yield their breath, To God our grateful accents will we raise, And pant in bitterness of soul for death?

And every tongue shall celebrate his praise : As a rich prize, the distant bliss they crave, Behold display'd the wonders of his might; And find the glorious treasure in the grave.

Behold the Lord triumphant in the fight! Why is the wretch condemn'd without relief, With what immortal fame and glory grac'd ! To combat woe, and tread the round of grief, What trophies rais'd amid the watery waste! Whom in the toils of fate his God has bound, How did his power the steeds and riders sweep And drawn the line of miseries around ?

Ingulf'd in heaps, and whelm'd beneath the deep? When nature calls for aid, my sighs intrude, Whom shall we fear, while he, Heaven's awful My tears prevent my necessary food;

Unsheaths for Israel his avenging sword ? (Lord, Like a full stream o'ercharg'd, my sorrows flow,

His outstretch'd arm, and tutelary care, In bursts of anguish, and a tide of woe;

Guarded and sav'd us in the last despair : For now the dire affliction which I fled,

His mercy eas'd us from our circling pains, Pours like a roaring torrent on my head.

Unbound our shackles, and unlock'd our chains. My terrours still the phantom view'd, and wrought to him our God, our fathers' God, I'll rear The dreadful image into every thought :

A sacred temple, and adore him there,
At length pluck'd down, the fatal stroke I feel, With vows and incense, sacrifice and prayer.
And lose the fancy'd in the real ill.

The Lord commands in war; his matchless might
Hangs out and guides the balance of the fight :
By him the war the mighty leaders form,

And teach the hovering tumult where to storm.
JOB, CHAP. XXV.

His name, ( Israel, Heaven's Eternal Lord,
For eser honour'd, reverenc'd, and ador'd.

Wben to the fight, from Ægypt's fruitful soil, Then will vain man complain and murmur still,

Pour'd forth in myriads all the sons of Nile; And stand on terms with his Creator's will?

The Lord o'erthrew the courser and the car, · Shall this high privilege to clay be given ?

Sunk Pharaoh's pride, and overwhelm'd his war. Shall dust arraigo the providence of Heaven?

Beneath th' encumber'd deeps his legions lay, With reason's line the boundless distance scan;

For many a lea rue impurpling all the sea : Oppose Heaven's awful Majesty to man.

The chiess, and steeds, and warriours whirl'd around, To what a length his vast dominions run ?

Lay midst the roarings of the surges drown'd. How far beyond the journeys of the Sun?

Who shall thy power, thou mighty God, with, lle hung yon' golden balls of light on high,

stand, And lanch'd the planets through the liquid sky:

And check the force of thy victorious hand? To rolling worlds he mark'd the certain space, Thy hand, which red with wrath in terrour rose, Fixt and sustain') the elemental peace.

To crush that day thy proud Ægyptian foes. Unnumber'd as those worlds his armies move,

Struck by that hand, their drooping squadrons fall, And the gay legions guard his realms above ;

Crowding in death ; one fate o'erwhelms them all. High o'er th' ethereal plains, the myriads rise,

Soon as thy anger, charg'd with vengeance, came, And pour their faming ranks along the skies :

They sunk like stubble crackling in the flame. From their bright arms incessant splendours stream,

At thy dread voice the summon's billows crowd, And the wide azure kin lles with the gleam. And a still silence lulls the wondering flood : To this low world be bids the light repair,

Rollid up, the crystal ridges strike the skies, Down through the gulfs of undulating air:

Waves peep o'er waves, and seas o'er seas arise. For man he taught the glorious Sun to roll,

Around in heaps the listening surges stand, From his bright barrier to his western goal. Mute and observant of the high command. How then shall man, thus insolently proud,

Congeald with fear attends the watery train, Plead with his Judge, and combat with his God?

Rous'd from the secret chambers of the main. How from his mortal mother can he come,

With savage joy the sons of Ægypt cry'd, Unstain'd from sin, untinctur'd from the womb ?

(Vast were their hopes, and boundless was their The Lord from his sublime empyreal throne,

“ Let us pursue those fugitives of Nile, (pride) As a dark globe, regards the silver Moon.

This servile nation, and divide the spoil : Those stars, that grace the wide celestial plain,

And spread so wide the slaughter, till their blood Are but the humblest sweepings of his train;

Dyes with a stronger red the blushing flood. Dim are the brightest splendours of the sky;

Oh! what a copious prey their hosts afford, And the Sun darkens in Jehovah's eye.

To glut and fatten the devouring sword !" But does not sin diffuse a fouler stain,

As thus the yawning gulph the boasters pass'd, And thicker darkness cloud the soul of man?

At thy command rush'd forth the rapid blast. Shall be the depths of endless wisdom know?

Then, at the signal given, with dreadful sway, The short-liv'd sovereign of the world below?

In one huge heap roll'd down the roaring sea ; His frail original coufounds his boast, [dust. And now the disintangled waves divide, Sprung from the ground, and quicken’d from the Unlock their folds, and thaw the frozen tide.

The deeps alarm'd call terribly from far
The loud, embattled surges to the war;

Till her proud sons astonish'd Ægypt found,
THE SONG OF MOSES,

Cover'd with billows, and in tempests drown'd. IN THE FIFTEENTH CHAPTER OF EXODUS, PARA What god can emulate thy power divine,

Or who oppose bis miracles to thine ? Then to the Lord, the vast triumphant throng

When joyful we adore thy glorious name, Of Israel's sons, with Moses, rais'd the song.

Thy trembling foes coufess their fear and shame.

PHRASED.

The world attends thy absolute command,

Oh! not with balf that dreadful rage
And Nature waits the wonders of thine hand.

The royal savage tlies,
That hand, extended o'er the swelling sea, When, at the slightest touch, he springs,
The conscious billows reverence and obey.

And darts upon his prize.
O'er the devoted race the surges sweep,
And whelm the guilty nation in the deep

How fair, how comely are our wounds,
That hand redeem'd us from our servile toil,

In our dear country's cause!

What fame attends the glorious fate, And each insulting tyrant of the Nile :

That
Our nation came beneath that mighty hand,

props our dying laws!
From Ægypt's realms, to Canaan's sacred land. For Death's cold hand arrests the fears
Thou wert their Guide, their Saviour, and their God, That haunt the cowarl's mind;
To smooth the way, and clear the dreadful road. Swift she pursues the flying wretch,
The distant kingdoms shall thy wonders hear, And wounds him from behind.
The fierce Philistines shall confess their fear;
Thy fame shall over Edom's princes spread,

Bravely regardless of disgrace,

Bold Virtue stands alone,
And Moab's kings, the universal dread,
While the vast scenes of miracles impart

With pure unsully'd glory shines,

And honours still her own.
A thrilling horrour to the bravest heart.
As through the world the gathering terrour runs, From the dark grave, and silent dust,
Cauaan shall shrink, and tremble for his sons.

She bids her sons arise,
Till thou hast Jacob from his bondage brought, And to the radiant train unfolds
At such a vast expense of wonders bought,

The portals of the skics.
To Canaan's promis'd realıns and blest aludes,
Led through the dark recesses of the floods.

Now, with trium.phant wings, she soars,
Crown'd with their tribes shall proud Moriah rise,

Above the realios of day,
And rear his suminit ncarer to the skies. (power, Spurns the dull earth, and groveling crowd,

Through ages, Lord, shall stretch thy boundless And towers th' ethereal way,
Thy throne shall stand when time shall be no more:

With her has silence a reward, For Pharaoh's steeds, and cars, and warlike train,

Within the bless'd abodes, Leap'd in, and boldly rang'd the sandy plain.

That holy silence which conceals
While in the dreadful road, and desert way,

The secrets of the gods.
The shining crowds of gasping fishes lay :
Till, all around with liquid toils beset,

But with a wretch I would not live,
The Lord swept o'er their heads the watery net. By sacrilege prophan'd,
He freed the ocean from his secret chain,

Nor lodge beneath one roof, nor lanch
And on each hand discharg'd the thundering main.

One vessel from the land : The loosen'd billows burst from every side,

For, blended with the bad, the good And whelm the war and warriours in the tide ;

The common stroke have felt, But on each hand the solid billows stood,

And Heaven's dire vengeance struck alike
Like lofty mounds to check the raging flood;

At innocence and guilt.
Till the blest race to promis'd Canaan past
O'er the dry path, and trod the watery waste. The wrath divine pursues the wretch,

At present lame, and slow,

But yet, though tardy to advance, THE THIRD ODE OF THE SECOND BOOK She gives the surer blow.

OF HORACE,

PARAPHRASED.

Let the brave youth be train'd, the stings

Of poverty to bear,
And in the school of want be taught

The exercise of war.
Let him be practis'd in his blooin,

To listen to alarms,
And learn proud Parthia to subdue

With unresisted arms.
The hostile tyrant's heauteous bride,

Distracted with despair,
Beholds him pouring to the fight,

And thundering through the war.
As from the battlements she views

The slaughter of his sword,
Thus shall the fair express her grief,

And terrours for her Lord :
“ Look down, ye gracioas powers, from Heaven,

Nor let my consort go,
Rude in the arts of wan, to fight

This formidable foę."

THE THIRD ODE OF THE FOURTH BOOK

OF HORACE,

PARAPHRASED.
Whom first, Melpomene, thy eye

With friendly aspect views,
Shall from his cradle rise renown'd,

And sacred to the Muse.
Nor to the Isthmian gaines his fame

And deathless triumphs owe;
Nor shall be wear the verdant wreath,

That shades the champion's hrow.
Nor in the wide Elæan plains

Fatigue the courser's speed;
Nor through the glorious cloud of dust,

Provoke the bounding steed.
Nor, as an haughty victor, mount

The Capitolian heights,
And proudly dedicate to Jove

The trophies of his fights.

Because his thundering hand in war

Has check'd the swelling tide
Of the stern tyrant's power, and broke

The measures of his pride.
But by sweet Tybur's groves and streams

His glorious theme pursues,
And scorns the laurels of the war,

For those that crown the Muse.
There in the most retir'd retreats,

He sets his charging song,
To the sweet harp which Sappho touchd,

Or bold Alcæus strung.
Rank'd by thy sons, Imperial Rome,

Among the poet's quire,
Above the reach of Envy's hand

I safely may aspire.
Thou sacred Muse, whose artful hand

Can teach the bard to sing;
Can animate the golden lyre,

And wake the living string: Thou, hy whose mighty power, may sing,

In unaccustom'd strains,
The silent fishes in the floods,

As on their banks the swans:
To thee I owe my spreading fame,

That thousands, as they gaze,
Make me their wonder's common theme,

And object of their praise.
If first I struck the Lesbian lyre,

No fame belongs to me;
I owe my honours, when I please,

(If e'er I please) to thee.

Swift on their canvass wings his navics go,
Where-ever tides can roll, or winds can blow;
Their sails within the arctic circle rise,
Led by the stars that gild the northern skies;
Tempt frozen seas, nor fear the driving blast,
But swell exulting o'er the hoary waste;
O'er the wide ocean hold supreme command,
And active commerce spread through every land;
Or with full pride to southern regions run,
To distant worlds, un t'other side the Sun ;
And plow the tides, wlicre odoriferous gales (sails.
Perfume the smiling waves, and stretch the bellying

See! the proud merchant seek the precious shore.
And trace the winding veins of glittering ore;
Low in the earth his wondering eyes behold
Th' imperfect metal ripening into gold.
The mountains tremble with alternate rays,
And cast at once a shadow and a blaze :
Streak'd'o'er with gold, the pebbles flame around,
Gleam o'er the soil, and gild the tinkling ground;
Charg'd with the glorious prize, his vessels come,
And in proud triumph bring an India home.
Fair Concord, hail; thy wings o'er Brunswick

spread, And with thy olives crown his lanreld head. Corne; in thy most distinguish'd charms appear; Oh! come, and bolt the iron-gates of war. The fight stands still when Brunswick bids it cease, The monarch speaks, and gives the world a peace; Like awful justice, sits superior lord, To poise the balance, or to draw the sword; In due suspense the jarring realms to keep, And hush the tumults of the world to sleep.

Now with a brighter face, and nobler ray, Shine forth, thou source of light, and god of day; Say, didst thou ever in thy bright career Light up before a more distinguish'd year? Through all thy journeys past thou canst not see A perfect image of what this shall be : Scarce the Platonic year shall this renew, Or keep the bright original in view.

THE FABLE OF THE

ON THE APPROACHING CONGRESS OF

CAMBRAY.

WRITTEN IN 1721. Ye

E patriots of the world, whose cares combin'd Consult the public welfare of mankind, One moment let the crowding kingdoms wait, And Europe in suspense attend her fate, Which turns on your great councils; nor refuse To hear the strains of the prophetic Muse; Who sees those councils with a generous care Heal the wide wounds, and calm the rage of war ; She sees new verdure all the plain o'erspread, Where the fight burn'd, and where the battle bled. The fields of death a softer scene disclose, And Ceres smiles where iron harvests rose. The bleating flocks along the bastion pass, And from the awful ruins crop the grass. Freed from his fears, each unmolested swain, In peaceful furrows cuts the fatal plain; Turns the high bulwark and aspiring mound, And sees the camp with all the seasons crown'd. Beneath each clod, bright burnish'd arms appear ; Each furrow glitters with the pride of war; The fields resound and tinkle as they break, And the keen falchion rings against the rake; At rest beneath the hanging ramparts laid, He sings securely in the dreadful shade.

Hark!-o'er the seas, the British lions roar Their monarch's fame to every distant shore :

YOUNG MAN AND HIS CAT. A hapless youth, whom fates averse had drove To a strange passion, and preposterous love, Long'd to possess his puss's spotted charms, And hug the tabby beauty in his arms. To what odd whimsies love inveigles men? Sure if the boy was ever blind, 'twas then. Rack'd with his passion, and in deep despair, The youth to Venus thus addrest his prayer.

O queen of beauty, since thy Cupid's dart Has fir'd my soul, and rankles in my heart; Since doom'd to burn in this unhappy dame, From thee at least a remedy I claim ; If once, to bless Piginalion's longing arms, The marble soften'd into living charms; And warm with life the purple current ran In circling streams through every flinty vein ; If, with his own creating hands display'd, He hugg'd the statue, and embrac'd a maid; And with the breathing image fir'd his heart, The pride of Nature, and the boast of Art : Hear my request, and crown my wondrous flame, The same its nature, be thy gift the same;

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