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Thou mak'ft the gloomy face of nature gay,
Giv'ft beauty to the fun, and pleasure to the day.

O give me liberty;

For were even paradise itself my prifon,
Still I should long to leap the crystal walls.

ADDISON AND DRYDEN.

SECT.

XXVII.

ON TRUE NOBILITY

NOBILITY of blood

Is but a glitt'ring and fallacious good.

The Nobleman is he, whofe noble mind

Is fill'd with inbred worth, unborrow'd from his kind. Virtue alone is true nobility:

Let your own acts immortalize your name,

"Tis

poor relying on another's fame :
For take the pillars but away, and all
The superstructure must in ruins fall;
As a vine droops, when by divorce remov'd
From the embraces of the elm she lov'd.

DRYDEN'S JUVENAL

SECT.

XXVIII.

INVOCATION OF THE POETIC MUSE.

WHY art thou fled, O bieft poetic time,

When Fancy wrought the miracles of rhyme

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When, darting from her star-encircled throne,
'Her poet's eye commanded worlds unknown;
When, by her fiat made a mimic god,
He faw exiftence waiting on his nod,
And at his pleasure into being brought
New shadowy hofsts, the vassals of his thought,
In Joy's gay garb, in Terror's dread array,
Darker than night and brighter than the day :
Who, at his bidding, thro' the wilds of air,
Rais'd willing mortals far from earthly care,
And led them wondering through his wide domain,
Beyond the bounds of Nature's narrow reign;
While their rapt fpirits, in the various flight,
Shook with fucceffive thrills of new delight?

Return, Tweet season, grac'd with fiction's flowers,
Let not cold fyftem cramp thy genial powers!
Shall mild Morality, in garb uncouth,
The housewife garb of plain and homely truth,
Robb'd by ftern Method of her rofy crown,
Chill her faint votaries by a wintry frown?
No, thou sweet friend of man, as fuits thee best,
Shine forth in Fable's rich-embroider'd veft!
O make my verse thy vehicle, thy arms
To spread o'er focial life thy potent charms!
And thou, Sophrofyne, myfterious fprite!
If haply I may trace thy fteps aright,
Roving thro' paths untrod by mortal feet,
To paint for human eyes the heavenly feat,
Shed on my foul fome portion of that power,
Which fav'd* Serena in the trying hour,

The heroine of the Poem.

T.

To bear thofe trials, which, however hard,
As Bards all tell us, may befal the bard;
The Fop's pert jeft, the Critic's frown severe,
Learning's proud cant, with Envy's artful fneer,
And, the vext Poet's last and worst disgrace,
His cold blank Bookfeller's rhyme-freezing face.
Hence! ye dark omens, that to spleen belong,
Ye fhall not check the current of my song,
While Beauty's lovely race, for whom I fing,
Fire my warm hand to strike the ready string.

HAYLEY

1

SECT. XXIX.

SOPHROSYNE EXHIBITS DELIGHTFUL SCENES TO
THE VIEW OF SERENA.

THESE precincts paft, now hand in hand they came
To the rich fabric of majestic frame ;

Inftinct with joy their sovereign to behold,
The gates
of maffive adamant unfold!
And, as the gently-moving valves unclofe,
Mysterious mufic from their motion flows;
The airy notes thro' all the palace roam,
And dulcet echoes fill the feftive dome:
A gorgeous hall amaz'd Serena's eyes,
Compar'd to which, in splendour, strength, and fize,
The noblest works of which tradition fings,
Judaic fhrine, or feat of Memphian kings,
Would feem more humble than the waxen cell

In which the skilful Bee is proud to dwell.

6.

Here

Here fits a power, in whofe angelic face
Beauty is fweeten'd by maternal grace;
Her radiant feat, furpaffing mortal art,
Supports an emblem of her liberal heart,
A Pelican, who rears her callow brood,
And from her vitals feems to draw their food.
Around this spirit flock a filial host,

Who bless her empire, and her guidance boaft.
Here every Science, all the Arts attend,

In her they hail their parent and their friend;
Each to her presence brings the happy few,
Whofe dearest glory from her favour grew.
Here, in her fimple charms, with youthful fire,
Proud to difplay the magic of her lyre,
Soul-foothing Harmony prefents her band;
Befide her Orpheus and Amphion stand.
Here, mild Philofophy, whofe thoughtful frown
Is fweetly shaded by her olive crown,
(In all her attic elegance array'd,

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Strong to convince, and gentle to perfuade)
To her, whofe breath infpir'd his every rule,
Leads the bleft Sire of the Socratic fchool.
Each animating bard and moral fage,

The heaven-taught minds of every clime and age,
Who foften'd manners, and refin'd the foul,
Flock to his prefence, as to glory's goal;

And, as the mother's heart, that yearns to bless
The rival innocents that round her prefs,
Delights to fee them, as her love they share,
Sport in her fight, and flourish by her care;
Fondly refponfive to their every call,
Tender of each, and provident for all;

So

So this fweet image of Celeftial Grace,
Who fits encircled by her lovely race,
To every Science vital strength imparts,
And rears the circle of the Social Arts;
With fuch folicitude fhe gives to each,
Powers of fublimer aim and wider reach.

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And now Sophrofyne, who near her preft, Thus spoke her title to her earthly guest : "Behold the honour'd Form, without whose aid My ftrength muft vanish, and my glory fade! "Source of my being, and my life's fupport! "Eunoia call'd in this celeftial court, "Benevolence the name she bears on earth, "The guard of weakness, and the friend of worth." She ended: and the mild maternal form Embrac'd Serena with a smile as warm

As the gay spirit Vegetation wears,

When she to crown her favourite nymph prepares,
When pleas'd her flowery treasures to display,
She pours them in the lap of youthful May.
But how, Serena, how may human speech
Thy heav'nly raptures in this moment reach ?
If aught of earthly sentiment may vie

With the pure joy these happy scenes supply,
'Tis when, unmixt with trouble and with pain,
Love glides in fecret thro' the glowing vein ;
When fome fond youth, unconfcious of its fire,
Free from chill fear and turbulent defire,
With every thought abforb'd in soft delight,
Sees all creation in his fair one's fight,
And feels a blissful state without a name,
Repose of foul, with harmony of frame.

6

So,

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