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Deaf to the bigot's frantic voice,
Her unpolluted stream along,
And to its taste allure the young;
(Each precept into action brought)
The liberal maxims you have taught ?
Your youthful bard delighted roves,
That breathes along the list’ning groves;
A sacred influence breathes around;
He fondly grasps the vast design.-
Their claims, and check the rising strain;
The dull, the giddy, and the rain:
Thus echoing through the rural bow'rs, Th’imprison’d songster hears each rival lay; Whilst cold restraint represses all his pow'rs, And unapplauded flies his joyless day.
ON THE USE OF POETRY.
Not for themselves did human kind
On life's wide scene to play:
If Fortune close the way.
Yet still the self-de;ending soul,
His proper sphere commands;
The rank in which he stands.
Who train'd by laws the future age,
Of partial, factious power,
Didst rule my natal hour.
Not far beneath the hero's feet,
Stands far remote the bard;
Though not with public terrors crown'd,
More lasting his award.
Lycurgus fashion'd Sparta's fame,
Gave universal sway:
And tongues and climes obey.
And thus when William's acts divine
Draw one vindictive vow;
No more than Brutus now;
Yet then shall Shakspeare's powerful art
Confirm his awful throne:
Say, will no white-rob'd Son of Light,
Here deign to take his hallow'd stand ;
And you, ye host of saints, for ye have known Each dreary path in life's perplexing maze,
Though now ye circle yon eternal throne
Will not your train descend in radiant state,
of Fate ?
'Tis silence all. No son of light
No train of radiant saints descend.
So Truth proclaims. I hear the sacred sound
crown'd: A bright sun clasps her adamantine zone.
So Truth proclaims; ber awful voice I hear; With many a solemn pause it slowly meets my ear.
• Attend, ye sons of men ! attend, and say, Does not enough of my refulgent ray
Break through the veil of your mortality ?
Say, does not reason in this form descrý
But emulates the diamond's blaze,
Whose breath the hyacinth's perfume,
Shall she be deem'd my rival ? Shall a form
Vie with these charms imperial? The poor worm
'Know, mortals, know, ere first ye sprung,
I shone amid the heavenly throng;
beheld creation's day,
Pleas'd I survey'd bright Nature's gradual birth,
vernalfragrance clothe the flow’ring earth, And ocean heave on its extended bed ;
Saw the tall pine aspiring pierce the sky,
' Last, man arose, erect in youthful grace, Heaven's hallow'd image stamp'd upon his face,
And, as he rose, the high behest was giv'n,
" That I alone, of all the host of heav'n, Should reign Protectress of the godlike Youth :" Thus the Almighty spake: be spake and call'a me TRUTH.'