Loft are those honours which my heroes gain'd, With blood my temples and my domes are ftain'd, But men directed by a heav'nly hand, 'Tis vain, 'tis mad, 'tis impious to withstand"She spoke, and mounting from a lofty height, Weftward fhe wing'd her folitary flight. IIII. Thus has Britannia's glory beam'd Where'er implor'd by scenes of woe. And black rebellion's fetters fhake, And difcord's hideous murmurs found; Where envy's noxious fnakes entwine Along the flame be-curled flood! Hence, then, to that accurfed place, Disturbers of the human race! And with you bear ambition wild, and selfish pride, With perfecution foul, and terror by her fide. IIIII. Thus driv'n from earth war's horrid train- And crown with fame each rolling year. Queen of quiet, queen of leisure, Whofe Whose skill th' untutor'd morals mend, three, To fill the foul with glory's blaze; Whofe charms give charms to poely, And confecrate th' immortal lays"Such as when mighty Pindar fung, Thro' the Alphean vallies rung; Or fuch as, Meles, by thy lucid fountains flow'd, When bold Mæonides with heav'nly tranfports To fuch, may Delaware, majestic flood, Lend, from his flow'ry banks, a ravish'd ear; For if the mufe can aught of time defcry, Nor pure Iliffus boast a nobler fong. On thy fair banks, a Fane to Virtue's name All hail then, PEACE! reftore the golden days, And round the ball diffuse Britannia's praise; Stretch her wide empire to the world's last end, Till Kings remotest to her fceptre bend! A RURAL A RURAL ODE, Written by the Author at the Age of Sixteen. I. E Dryads fair, whofe temples round, YE Wave wreaths of odoriferous flow'rs; Lead me your Sylvan scenes amidst, II. Nymph of the wave+, fweet Naiad hear, III. Now the gay rays of orient light, And from Favonius' balmy wing, + Scene, the banks of Schuylkill, which runs by the weft fide of Philadelphia, and falls into the Delaware a little below the city. IV. The IV. The gilded groves, with verdure clad, Down the translucent purling ftreams. V. From off each daify-painted field, VI. Whose honied pinions round dispense, Chafing each noxious breath away, VII. Here keeps his court fresh-blushing health, VIII. Two |