For, since her soul's ally'd to human kind,
Not to her house alone her store's confin'd;
But, passing on, its own full banks o'erflows,
Enlarg'd, and deals forth plenty as it goes.
Through some fair garden thus a river leads
Its watery wealth, and first th' enclosure feeds,
Visits each plant, and every flower supplies;
Or, taught in sportive fountains to arise,

Casts sprinkled showers o'er every figur'd green;
Or in canals walks round the beauteous scene,
Yet stops not there, but its free course maintains,
And spreads gay verdure thro' the adjacent plains;
The labouring hinds with pleasure see it flow,
And bless those streams by which their pastures
grow.

O generous use of power! O virtuous pride!
Ne'er may the means be to such souls deny'd,
Exccutors of Heaven's all-bounteous will,
Who well the great First-giver's ends fulfil,
Who from superior heights still looking down

On glittering heaps, which scarce they think their
Despise the empty show of useless state,
And only would, by doing good, be great!

[own,

Now pause awhile, my Muse, and then renew The pleasing task, and take a second view!

A train of virtues yet undrawn appear;
Here just Economy, strict Prudence there;
Near Liberality they ever stand;

This guides her judgment, that directs her hand.
By these see wild Profusion chas'd away,
And wanton Luxury, like birds of prey
Whilst meek Humility, with charms serene,
Forbids vain Pomp t' approach the hallow'd scene;
Yet through her veil the more attracts the sight,
And on her sister virtues casts a light.

But wherefore starts the Painter-Muse, and why,
The piece unfinish'd, throws the pencil by?
"Methinks," she says, "Humility I hear,
With gentle voice, reproving, cry—' Forbear!
Forbear, rash Muse! nor longer now commend,
Lest whom thou would'st praise, thou should'st
And in her breast a painful glowing raise, [offend,
Who, conscious of the merit, shuns the praise."

Of heavenly and of earthly gods)
Retire apace; whole cities too
Decrease beneath my rising view.
And now, far off, the rolling globe appears;
Its scatter'd nations I survey,

And all the mass of earth and sea;

Oh, object well deserving tears!
Capricious state of things below,

That, changeful from their birth, no fix'd duration know!

Here new-built towns, aspiring high,
Ascend, with lofty turrets crown'd;
There others fall, and mouldering lie,
Obscure, or only by their ruins found.
Palmyra's far-extended waste I spy,

(Once Tadmor, ancient in renown)
Her marble heaps, by the wild Arab shown,
Still load with useless pomp the ground.
But where is lordly Babylon? where now

Lifts she to Heaven her giant brow?
Where does the wealth of Nineveh abound?
Or where's the pride of Afric's shore?
Is Rome's great rival then no more?
In Rome herself behold th' extremes of fate,
Her ancient greatness sunk, her modern boasted
See her luxurious palaces arise,

[state!

With broken arches mixt between!
And here what splendid domes possess the skies!
And there old temples, open to the day,

Their walls, o'ergrown with moss, display;
And columns, awful in decay,

Rear up their roofless heads to form the various

scene.

Around the space of Earth I turn my eye;

But where's the region free from woe? Where shall the Muse one little spot descry

The seat of Happiness below?
Here Peace would all its joys dispense,
The vines and olives unmolested grow,
But, lo! a purple pestilence
Unpeoples cities, sweeps the plains.
Whilst vainly through deserted fields
Her unreap'd harvests Ceres yields,
And at the noon of day a midnight silence reigns.
There milder heat the healthful climate warins,
But, slaves to arbitrary power,
And pleas'd each other to devour,
The mad possessors rush to arms.
I see.
I see them from afar,

I view distinct the mingled war!
I see the charging squadrons prest
Hand to hand, and breast to breast

Destruction, like a vulture, hovers nigh;

Lar'd with the hope of human blood,

She hangs upon the wing, uncertain where to fly,

I pass cerulean gulphs, and now behold
New solid globes their weight, self-balane'd, bear,
Unpropp'd, amidst the fluid air,

[roll'd.

Here cruel Discord takes a wider scene,
To exercise more unrelenting rage;

Appointed fleets their numerous powers engage,
With scarce a space of sea between.
Hark! what a brazen burst of thunder
Rends the elements asunder!
Affrighted Ocean flies the roar,

And drives the billows to the distant shore;
The distant shore,

That such a storm ne'er felt before,
Transmits it to the rocks around;

Unequal in their course, see they advance,
And form the planetary dance!

Here the pale Moon, whom the same laws ordain
T' obey the Earth, and rule the Main;
Here spots no more in shadowy streaks appear;
But lakes instead, and groves of trees,
The wondering Muse transported sees,
And their tall heads discover'd mountains rear.
And now once more I downward cast my sight,
When, lo! the Earth, a larger moon, displays
Far off, amidst the Heavens, her silver face,
And to her sister moon by turns gives light!

sound.

Still greater horrours strike my eyes.
Behold, convulsive earthquakes there,
And shatter'd land in pieces tear,

And ancient cities sink, and sudden mountains rise!
Thro' opening mines th' astonish'd wretches go,
Hurry'd to unknown depths below.
The bury'd ruin sleeps; and nought remains
But dust above and desert plains,
Unless some stone this sad inscription wear,
Rais'd by some future traveller :

"The prince, his people, and his kingdom, here, One common tomb contains."

[tide.

Again, behold where seas, disdaining bound, O'er the firm land usurping ride, And bury spacious towns beneath their sweeping Dash'd with the sudden flood the vaulted temples sound.

Waves roll'd on waves, deep burying deep, lift high

A watery monument, in which profound
The courts and cottages together lie.

Ev'n now the floating wreck I spy,
And the wide surface far around
With spoils of plunder'd countries crown'd.
Such, Belgia, was the ravage and affright,
When late thon saw'st thy ancient foe
Swell o'er thy digues, oppos'd in vain,
With deadly rage, and, rising in its might,
Pour down swift ruin on thy plains below.
Thus Fire, and Air, and Earth, and Main,
A never-ceasing fight maintain,
While man on every side is sure to lose;
And Fate has furnish'd out the stage of life
With War, Misfortune, and with Strife;

Till Death the curtain drops, and shuts the scene of woes.

But why do I delay my flight?

Or on such gloomy objects gaze?

I go to realms serene with ever-living light.
Haste, Clouds and Whirlwinds, haste a raptur'd

bard to raise;

Mount me sublime along the shining way,
Where planets, in pure streams of cther div'n,
Swim through the blue expanse of Heaven.
And, lo' th' obsequious Clouds and Winds obey!
And, lo! again the nations downwards fly,
And wide-stretch'd kingdoms perish from my eye.
Heaven! what bright visions now arise!

What opening worlds my ravish'd sense surprise!

What power unknown my course still upwards

gnides,

Where Mars is seen his ruddy rays to throw Through heatless skies, that round him seem to

glow,

And where remoter Jove o'er his four moons presides!
And now I-urge my way more bold,
Unpierc'd by Saturn's chilling cold,

And pass his planetary guards, and his bright ring behold.

Here the Sun's beams so faintly play,
The mingled shades almost extinguish day.
His rays reverted hence, the fire withdraws,
For here his wide dominions end;
And other suns, that rule by other laws,
Hither their bordering realms extend.

And now far off, through the blue vacant borne,
I reach at last the milky road,

Once thought to lead to Jove's supreme abode, Where stars, profuse in heaps, Heaven's glittering heights adorn.

Lost in each other's neighbouring rays,

They undistinguish'd shine in one promiscuous blaze.
So thick the lucid gems are strown,
As if th' Almighty Builder here
Laid up his stores for many a sphere
In destin'd worlds, as yet unknown.
Hither the nightly-wakeful swain,
That guards his folds upon the plain,
Oft turns his gazing eyes,

Yet marks no stars, but o'er his head
Beholds the streamy twilight spread,
Like distant morning in the skies;

And wonders from what source its dawning splendours rise.

But, lo!--what's this I see appear?

It seems, far off, a pointed flame; From earth-wards too the shining meteor came. How swift it climbs th' aërial space! And now it traverses cach sphere,

Aud seems some living guest, familiar to the place. 'Tis he-as I approach more near,

The great Columbus of the skies I know!
'Tis Newton's soul, that daily travels hore
In search of knowledge for mankind below.
O stay, thou happy spirit, stay,

And lead me ou thro' all th' unbeaten wilds of day;
As when the Sibyl did Rome's father guide
Safe through the downward roads of night,
And in Elysium blest his sight

With views, till then, to mortal eyes deny'd. Here let me, thy companion, stray From orb to orb, and now behold Unnumber'd suns, all seas of molten gold; And trace each Comet's wandering way, And now descry light's fountain-head,, And measure its descending speed; Or learn how sun-born colours rise In rays distinct, and in the skies, Blended in yellow radiance, flow, Or stain the fleecy cloud, or streak the watery bow; Or, now diffus'd, their beauteous tinctures shed On every planet's rising hills, and every verdant mead.

Thus, rais'd sublime on Contemplation's wings, Fresh wonders I would still explore, Still the great Maker's power adore, Lost in the thought-nor ever more Return to Earth, and earthly things; But here, with native freedom, take my flight, An inmate of the Heavens, adopted into light! So for a while the royal Eagle's brood In his low nest securely lies, Amid the darkness of the sheltering wood, Yet there, with in-born vigour, hopes the skies: Till, fledg'd with wings full-grown, and bold to The bird of Heaven to Heaven aspires, [rise, Soars 'midst the meteors and celestial fires, With generous pride his humbler birth disdains, And bears the thunder thro' the ethereal plains.

THE TENTH BOOK OF LUCAN'S PHARSALIA.

TRANSLATED.

THE ARGUMENT AND CONNECTION OF THE STORY WITH THE FOREGOING BOOKS.

Pompey, flying to Egypt, after his defeat at Pharsalia, was by the king's consent, basely murdered by Pothinus, and his head presented to Cæsar as he approached the Egyptian coast, in pursuit of his enemy. The poet having represented this catastrophe in the two former books; the argument of the tenth book is as follows: Cæsar lands in Egypt. He goes to Alexandria; visits the temple, and the sepulchre of the kings, in which Alexander the Great was buried. The poet, in a beautiful digression, declaims against the ambition of that monarch. Ptolemy, the young king of Egypt, meets Cæsar at his arrival, and receives him into his palace. His sister Cleopatra, who had been kept a prisoner in Pharos, makes her escape, and privately getting admittance to Cæsar, implores his protection. By his means she is reconciled to her brother; after which she entertains Cæsar at a feast. The supper being ended, Cæsar requests of Achoreus, the priest, an account of the antiquities of Egypt, particularly of the river Nile. Achoreus's reply. The course of that river described, with an enumeration of the various opinions concerning its spring, and the causes of its overflowing, Pothinus plots the death of Cæsar. His message to Achillas to invite him

to join in this attempt. Achillas marches against Alexandria with an army composed of Egyptians and Romans, and besieges Caesar in the palace, who seizes Ptolemy as a pledge for his own security. A herald, sent from the king to inquire the cause of this tunult, is slain. An attack being made, Cæsar defends himself, burns the Egyptian ships in the harbour, and possesses himself of Pharos, where he puts Pothinus to death. Arsinoe, younger sister of Ptolemy, by the aid of Ganimede, her governor, arriving in the camp, causes Achillas to be slain. Ganimede renews the attack against Cæsar, who is blocked up in Pharos, and reduced to the greatest extremity.

WHEN Conquering Casar follow'd to the land
His rival's head, and trod the barbarous strand,
His fortune strove with guilty Egypt's fate
In doubtful fight, and this the dire debate;
Shall Roman arms great Lagus' realm enthrall?
Or shall the victor, like the vanquish'd, fall
By Egypt's sword? Pompey, thy ghost withstood
Th' impending blow, and sav'd the general's blood,
Lest Rome, too happy after loss of thee,
Should rule the Nile, herself from bondage free.

Secure, and with this barbarous pledge content,
To Alexandria now the conqueror went.
The crowd that saw his entry, while, before,
Advancing guards the rods of empire bore,
In murmur'd sounds their jealous rage disclos'd,
At Roman rites and foreign law impos'd.
Observing Cæsar soon his errour spy'd,
That not for him his mighty rival dy'd,

Yet smooth'd his brow, all marks of fear suppress'd And hid his cares, deep bury'd in his breast.

Then with intrepid mien he took his way,
The city walls and temples to survey,
Works which thy ancient power, great Macedon,
display.

He view'd the splendid fanes with careless eyes,
Shrines rich with gold and sacred mysteries,
Descends the vault, which holds the royal race.
Nor fix'd his sight, but, eager in his pace,
Philip's mad son, the prosperous robber, bound
In Fate's eternal chains, here sleeps profound,
Whom Death forbade his rapines to pursue,
And in the world's revenge the monster slew.
The sport of winds, or in the ocean lost,
His impious bones, which, through each climate tost,
Had met a juster fate, this tomb obtain❜d,
And sacred, to that kingdom's end, remain'd.
O! should auspicious years roll round again,
Preserv'd to scorn the reliques would be shown
And godlike Liberty resume her reign,
Of the bold chief, whose boundless pride alone
This curst example to ambition gave,
How many realms one mortal can enslave!

Disdaining what his father won before,
Aspiring still, and restless after more,
He left his home; while Fortune smooth'd his way,
And o'er the fruitful East enlarg'd his sway.
Red Slaughter mark'd his progress, as he past;
The guilty sword laid human nature waste,
Discolour'd Ganges' and Euphrates' flood,
With Persian this, and that with Indian blood