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Their deathlefs works forbid their fame to die,
Nor Time itself their persons Mall destroy,
Preserv'd within the living gallery *.
What greater gift could bounteous heaven

Than to be seen above, and read below?
With deep respect I bend my duteous head,
To see the faithful likeness of the dead;
But O! what Mufe can equal warmth impart?
The Painter's skill transcends the Poet's art.
When round the pi&tur'd Founders I desery,
With goodness foft, and great with majesty,
So inuch of life the artful colours give,
Scarce more within their Colleges they live;
My blood begins in wilder rounds to roll,
And plcasing tumults combat in my soul ;
An humble awe my downcast eyes betray,
And only less than adoration pay.
Such were ihe Roman Fathers, when, o'ercome,
They faw the Gauls infult o'er conquer'd Rome;
Each captive seem'd the haughty vi&tor's lord,
And protirate chiefs their awful Naves ador’d.

* The Piftere-gallery.



Such art as this adorns your Lowther's hall, Where feasting gods carouse upon the wall; The nectar, which creating paint supplies, Intoxicates each pleas'd spectator's eyes; Who view, amaz'd, the figures heavenly fair, And think they breathe the true Elysian air. With strokes so bold, great Verrio's hand has

drawn The gods in dwellings brighter than their own.

Fir'd with a thousand raptures, I behold What lively features grac'd each Bard.of old; . Such lips, Ithink, did guide his charming tongue, In such an air as this the Poet fung; Such eyes as these glow'd with the facred fire, And hands like these employ'd the vocal lyre. Quite ravish’d, I pursue each image o'er, And scarce admire their deathleis labours-more. See where the gloomy Scaliger appears, Each shade is crisick, and each feature sneers; The artful Ben so imartly strikes the eye, I more than see a fancy'd comedy; The muddy Scotus crowns the motley shew, And metaphyficks cloud his wrinkled brow. B 4


But disant awe invades my beating breast,
To see great Ormond in the paint exprest;
With fear I view the figure from afar,
Which burns with noble ardour for the war;
But near approaches free my doubting mind,
To view such sweetness with such grandeur
. join'.

Hicre ftudious heads the graver tablet shews, And there with martial warmth the picture

glos; The blooming youth here boasts a brighter hue, And painted virgins far outshine the true.

Hail, Colours, which with Nature bear a ftrife, And only want a voice to perfe&t life ! The wondering iranger makes a sudden stand, And pays low homage to the lovely band; Within each frame a real Fair believes, And vainly thinks the mimic canvass lives; Till, undeceiv'd, he quits th’enchanting shew, Pleas’u with the art, though he laments it too.

So wiren his Juno bold Ixion wood, And aim'd at pleasures worthy of a god, A beauteous clo::d was form’d by angry Jove, Fit to invite, though not indulge his love;


The Mortal thought he saw his Goddess shine,
And all the lying Graces Inok'd divine;
But when with heat he clasp'd her fancied

The empty vapour baulk'd his eager arms.

Loth to depart, I leave th’ inviting scene, Yet scarce forbear to view it o'er again; But still new objects give a new delight, . And various proípects bless the wandering sight.

Aloft in itate the airy towers arise, And with new lustre deck the wondering skies ; * Lo! to what height the fchools afcending reach, Built with that art which they alone can teach; The lofty dome expands her spacious gate, Where all the decent Graces jointly wait; In every shape the God of Art resorts, And crouds of Sages fill th’extended courts. With wonders fraught the bright Museum

· fee, Itself the greatest curiosity! . Where Nature's choicest treasure, all combin’d, Delight at once, and quite confound the mind; Ten thousand splendors strike the dazzled eye; And forin on earth another galaxy.


Here colleges in sweet confufion rise, There temples seem to reach their native skies ; Spires, towers, and groves, compose the various

Thew, And mingled prospects charm the doubting view ;. Who can deny their characters divine, Without resplendent, and inspir'd within ? But, fince above my weak and artless lays, Let their own poets sing their equal praise.

One labour more my grateful verse renews, And rears aloft the low-descending Mufe ; The building *, parent of my young essays, Alks in return a tributary praise. Pillars sublime bear up the learned weight, And antique Sages tread the pompous height; Whilst guardian Mufes shade the happy piles, And all around diffuse propitious smiles. Here Lancaster, adorn'd with every grace, Stands chief in merit, as the chief in place: To his lov'd name our earliest lays belong, The theme at once, and patron of our fong.

* Queen's College Library. See the following Poem. N.


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