Imperial Windsor's turrets frown,

And massy.

fanes of old renown.

Give me to gaze with ardent eye
On gorgeous spoils of Chivalry;

To ken aloft the radiant rows

Of banners won from Britain's foes;
Recall the glorious deeds of yore;

Shew the dark mail that Edward

wore;

The falchion shew, whose thundering stroke
Cressy's pale ranks impetuous broke;

From whose fell glare unnerv'd with dread
Gallia's aspiring chieftains fled,

Or from its edge, with nobler aim,
Gather'd the meed of death and fame.

O FANCY! give me to pervade Chambers in pictur'd pomp array'd, Peopling whose stately walls I view The godlike forms that Raffaelle drew, Enraptur'd see his magic hand

Wield the creative pencil-wand,

* Edward, styled the Black Prince, from the sable armour which he wore, son of Edward the Third,

Whose touches animation give,
And bid th' insensate canvass live,
Glowing with many a deed divine
Achiev'd in holy Palestine.

The Passions feel its potent charm,
And round the mighty Master swarm :

Lo! where Dismay with haggard-gaze
The death-smote Hypocrite surveys;
Beholds his eyes convulsive roll,
And Fate arrest his sordid soul!

Lo! motionless Attention stands, t

Where to the firmament his hands
Sublime the great Instructor rears!
While Athens rapt in wonder hears
Truth's energetic voice proclaim

Her unknown God's tremendous name!

Deep read in Superstition's lore, Behold capricious Zeal adore, ‡

* Cartoon.-The Death of Ananias, in the Royal apartments at Windsor Castle.

+ Cartoon.-Paul preaching at Athens.

Cartoon.-Paul and Barnabas at Lystra,

In sublunary weeds array'd,

The fabled Gods her fears have made!

"Those pow'rful sounds," she cries, "I know: "Hark! from the honied lips they flow

"Of Maia's Son !-Can Man dispense

"Activity to impotence?

"Can energy of mortal hand

"The shrunk, distorted limb expand?

"Inveterate force of ills confound,

"And bid the lame with transport bound ?—

""Tis Jove's, the unexampled deed!

"To Jove th' Isaurian Steer shall bleed!

"To Jove the rich libations pour!

"Braid in bright wreaths each blooming flow'r,

"Swell each loud strain of festive mirth,

"To gratulate the Gods on earth !”—

Artist supreme! by Nature taught
To clothe with life each glowing thought,
Too soon * the destinies conspire

To quench thy pencil's hallow'd fire;
Too soon the soul that warm'd thy clay
Aspir'd to realms of endless day

* Raffaelle died in 1520, at the age of 37 years.

On wings of ecstasy, to join

Sages and saints, a band divine,

Whose godlike forms (ere death withdrew The veil that darkens mortal view)

Heav'n bade thy penetrative eye

Amid her dazzling courts descry;
Thence bade thee trace the faultless line,
Th' expressive grace, the chaste design,
The mien that love and awe inspires,
And wakes devotion's purest fires.
Thy memory, still to genius dear,
Britain's enlighten'd sons revere;

And grateful hail their Monarch's name,
Whose liberal care thy labours claim:
To heights impervious heretofore

Who bids immortal Science soar;

Far seen in venerable pride,
Whose regal seat, expanding wide
Its portals at his high behest,
Hails ev'ry Art, an honour'd guest:
Beneath whose mild, auspicious reign
The Genius old of Greece again,
Awaken'd from his deep repose,

In REYNOLDS' living canvass glows;

Where Grace and Energy divine,
With Beauty truly blent combine :
And braids his deathless bays around

The British Raffaelle's brows renown'd.
Lo! by his daring hand pourtray'd,*
The sanguinary scene display'd
Where martial peers, in glittering mail,
Unfold their pennons to the gale ;
O'er Normandy's dismantled plains
Where iron-clad Contention reigns;
And Havoc waits (his tresses wet
With gore) thy nod, Plantagenet!
Wafted from Albion's Isle afar,
Where wake her sons the storm of war;
Where, ravish'd from the parent stem
To grace the Victor's diadem,

Thy Lilies, France, no more assume
The splendour of their wonted bloom;

No more with peerless lustre glow,

But soil with blood their native snow!—

* The Victories of Edward the Third, and Edward the Black Prince, painted by Mr. West.