Whom thunder's dismal noise, And all that prophets and apostles louder spake, When dead to' arise; And open tombs, and open eyes, To the long sluggards of five thousand years! Some from birds, from fishes some; And, where the' attending soul naked and shivering stands, Meet, salute, and join their hands ; Unhappy most, like tortured men, Their joints new set, to be new-rack'd again, The mountains shake, and run about no less confused than they. Stop, stop, my Muse! allay thy vigorous heat, Hold thy Pindaric Pegasus closely in, Which does to rage begin, [course; And this steep hill would gallop up with violent 'Tis an unruly and a hard-mouth'd horse, Fierce and unbroken yet, Impatient of the spur or bit; Now prances stately, and anon flies o'er the place; But flings writer and reader too, that sits not sure. THE MUSE. Go, the rich chariot instantly prepare ; Smooth-paced Eloquence join with it; Let the postillion Nature mount, and let And let the airy footmen, running all beside, Figures, Conceits, Raptures, and Sentences, In a well-worded dress; [ful Lies, And innocent Loves, and pleasant Truths, and useIn all their gaudy liveries. Mount, glorious Queen! thy travelling throne, And bid it to put on; For long, though cheerful, is the way, And life, alas! allows but one ill winter's day. Where never foot of man, or hoof of beast, Where never fish did fly, And with short silver wings cut the low liquid sky; Where bird with painted oars did ne'er Row through the trackless ocean of the air; Where never yet did pry The busy morning's curious eye; The wheels of thy bold coach pass quick and free, And all's an open road to thee! Whatever God did say, Is all thy plain and smooth uninterrupted way! Nay, even beyond his works thy voyages are known, Thou 'hast thousand worlds too of thine own. Thou speak'st, great Queen! in the same style as He; And a new world leaps forth when thou say'st, "Let it be." Thou fathom'st the deep gulf of ages past, Like shipwreck'd treasures, by rude tempests cast Brought up again to light and public use by thee. Nor dost thou only dive so low, But fly With an unwearied wing the other way on high, And there, with piercing eye, Through the firm shell and the thick white, Years to come a-forming lie, Close in their sacred secundine asleep, dost spy Till, hatch'd by the sun's vital heat, And, ripe at last, with vigorous might Break through the shell, and take their everlasting flight! And sure we may The same too of the present say, Thy certain hand holds fast this slippery snake! Men scarce can see it, much less taste, Which melts so soon away Thy verse does solidate and crystallize, Nay, thy immortal rhyme Makes this one short point of time TO MR. HOBBES. VAST bodies of philosophy I oft have seen and read; 'Tis only God can know Whether the fair idea thou dost show 'Tis so like truth, 'twill serve our turn as well. Just, as in Nature, thy proportions be, As full of concord their variety, As firm the parts upon their centre rest, Long did the mighty Stagyrite retain Saw his own country's short-lived leopard slain; Sunk by degrees from glories past, And in the school-men's hands it perish'd quite at Then nought but words it grew, And those all barbarous too: It perish'd, and it vanish'd there, [last: The life and soul, breathed out, became but empty air! The fields, which answer'd well the ancients' plough, And boast of past fertility, We break up tombs with sacrilegious hands; To walk in ruins, like vain ghosts, we love, |