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Whilft liftening crowds confefs the fweet furprize, With pleasure in their breafts, and wonder in their eyes.

Here curious minds the latent feeds difclofe, And Nature's darkest labyrinths expose; Whilft greater fouls the diftant worlds defery, Pierce to the out-ftretch'd borders of the fky, Enlarge the fearching mind, and broad expand il modes

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the eye. O you, whose rifing years so great began, I In whofe bright youth I read the flining man, O Lonsdale, know what noblest minds approve, The thoughts they cherish, and the arts

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love:

arts they

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Let these examples your young bofom fire, And bid your foul to boundless height aspiré. Methinks I fee you in our fhades retir'd, Alike admiring, and by all admir'd

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Your eloquence now charms my ravifir'd ear,

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Which future fenates fhall transported hear, Now mournful verfe infpires a pleafing woe, And now your cheeks with warlike fury glow, Whilft on the paper fancy'd fields appear,

And profpects of imaginary war;

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Your martial foul fees Hock ftet's fatal plain,
Or fights the fam'd Ramilia o'er again,

But I in vain thefe lofty names rehearse, Above the faint attempts of humble verfe, Which Garth fhould in immortal strains defign, Or Addifon exalt with warmth divine;

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A meaner fong my tender voice requires,
And fainter lays confefs the fainter fires, b. A
By Nature fitted for an humble theme,mamimi
A painted profpect, or a murmuring stream,
To tune a vulgar note in Echo's praise,
Whilft Echo's felf refounds the flattering lays
Or, whilst I tell how Myra's charms surprize, I
Paint rofes on her cheeks, and funs within her

eyes.

4

Q, did proportion'd height to me belong, Great Anna's name fhould grace th' ambitious

fong:;

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Illuftrious dames fhould round their Queen res fort, in dibar kan jodnu vod And Lonfdale's mother crown the fplendid court; Her.noble fon fhould boaft no vulgar place,,'! But fhare the ancient honours of his race; DSA Whilst

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Whilft each fair daughter's face and conquering

eyes

To Venus only fhould fubmit the prize:1

O matchless beauties! more than heavenly fair, Your looks refiftlefs, and divine your air,

Let your bright eyes their bounteous beams diffuse,

And no fond Bard fhall ask an-ufelefs Mufe;
Their kindling rays excite a noble fire,

Give beauty to the fong, and mufic to the lyre.
This charming theme I ever could purfue,
And think the infpiration ever new,
Did not the God my wandering pen restrain;
And bring me to his Oxford back again.

Oxford, the Goddefs Mufe's native home, Inspir'd like Athens, and adorn'd like Rome! Hadit thou of old been Learning's fam'd re

treat,

And Pagan Mufes chofe thy lovely feat

O; how unbounded' had their fiction been!"
What fancy'd vifions had adorn'd the scene!
Upon each hill a Sylvan Pan had food,
And every thicket boafted of a God;

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Satyre had frisk'd in each poetic grove,

And not a ftream without its Nymphs could

moves

Each fummit had the train of Mufes fhew'd,
And Hippocrene in every fountain flow'd; ;
The tales, adorn'd with each poetic, grace,
Had look'd almost as charming as the place.
Ev'n now we hear the world with transports

Own

Thofe fictions by more wond'rous truths out

done ;,.

Here pure Eufebia keeps her holy feat,
And Themis fmiles from Heaven on this retreat;
Our chafter Graces own refin'd defires,...
And all our Mules burn with, veital fires ;.
Whilft Guardian-angels our Apollo's ftand,
Scattering rich favours with a bounteous
hand,

To blefs the happy ait, and fanctify the land.
O pleasing fhades! O ever-green retreats!
Ye learned, grottoes and ye facred feats!.
Never may you politer arts refufe,
But entertain in peace the bashful Muse !:

So

So may you be kind Heaven's distinguish'd care,
And may your fame be lafting, as 'tis fair!
Let greater Bards on fam'd Parnaffus dream,
Or tafte th' infpiring Heliconian ftream;
Yet, whilft our Oxford is the blefs'd abode
Of every Mufe, and every tuneful God,
Parnaffus owns its honours far outdone,
And Ifis boasts more Bards than Helicon.

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A thousand bleflings I to Oxford owe,, But you, my Lord, th' infpiring Mufe beftow; Grac'd with your name th' unpolish'd poem

fhines,

You guard its faults, and confecrate the lines.
O might you here meet my defiring eyes,
My drooping fong to nobler heights would rife:
Or might 1 come to breathe your Northern
air,

Yet fhould I find an equal pleasure there;
Your prefence would the harsher climate footh,
Hush every wind, and every mountain smooth;
Would bid the groves in fpringing pomp arise,
And open charming vifta's to the eyess

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