While Summer loves to fport,
Beneath thy ling'ring light:
While fallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves; Or Winter yelling through the troublous air, Affrights thy fhrinking train,
And rudely rends thy robes;
So long, fure-found beneath thy fylvan shed,
Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, rofe-lip'd Health,
Thy gentleft influence own,
And hymn thy fav'rite name!
WRITTEN BY MR. MASON OF CAMBRIDGE, 1748.
AR from her hallow'd grot, where mildly bright,
The pointed crystals shot their trembling light,
From dripping mofs where sparkling dew-drops fell,
Where coral glow'd, where twin'd the wreathed shell,
Pale ISIS lay; a willow's lowly shade
Spread its thin foliage o'er the fleeping maid ;
Clos'd was her eye, and from her heaving breaft
In careless folds loose flow'd her zoneless veft;
While down her neck her vagrant treffes flow,
In all the awful negligence of woe;
Her urn fuftain'd her arm, that sculptur'd vase
Where Vulcan's art had lavish'd all its grace;
Here, full with life, was heav'n-taught Science feen,
Known by the laurel wreath, and mufing mien:
There cloud-crown'd Fame, here Peace fedate
and bland,
Swell'd the loud trump, and wav'd the olive wand
While folemn domes, arch'd fhades, and vistas green, At well-mark'd distance close the facred scene.
On this the Goddess caft an anxious look, Then dropt a tender tear, and thus the spoke : Yes, I could once with pleas'd attention trace The mimic charms of this prophetic vase; Then lift my head, and with enraptur'd eyes View on yon plain the real glories rise. Yes, ISIS! oft haft thou rejoic'd to lead Thy liquid treafures o'er yon fav'rite mead; Oft haft thou ftopt thy pearly car to gaze, While ev'ry Science nurs'd it's growing bays; While ev'ry Youth with fame's ftrong impulfe fir'd, Preft to the goal, and at the goal untir'd, Snatch'd each celeftial wreath, to bind his brow, The Mufes, Graces, Virtues could bestow. E'en now fond Fancy leads th' ideal train, And ranks her troops on Mem'ry's ample plain; See! the firm leaders of my patriot line, See! SIDNEY, RALEIGH, HAMDEN, SOMERS fine. See нOUGH fuperior to a tyrant's doom
Smile at the menace of the flave of Rome,
Each foul whom truth could fire, or virtue move,
Each breaft, ftrong panting with it's country's love,
All that to Albion gave the heart or head,
That wifely counsel'd, or that bravely bled,
All, all appear; on me they grateful fmile,
The well-earn'd prize of every virtuous toil
To me with filial reverence they bring,
And hang fresh trophies o'er my honour'd spring.
Ah! I remember well yon beachen spray,
There ADDISON first tun'd his polish'd lay ;
"Twas there great CATO's form first met his eye,
In all the pomp of free-born majesty;
"My fon, he cry'd, obferve this mein with awe,
"In folemn lines the strong resemblance draw;
"The piercing notes shall strike each British ear;
"Each British eye fhall drop the patriot tear!
"And rous'd to Glory by the nervous strain,
"Each Youth shall spurn at flav'ry's abject reign,
"Shall guard with CATO's zeal Britannia's laws,
"And speak, and act, and bleed in freedom's caufe."
The Hero spoke; the bard affenting bow'd
The lay to liberty and CATO flow'd;
While Echo, as she rov'd the vale along,
Join'd the ftrong cadence of his Roman fong.
But ah! how Stillness slept upon the ground,
How mute Attention check'd each rifing found;
Scarce ftole a breeze to wave the leafy spray,
Scarce trill'd fweet Philomel her softest lay,
When LOCKE walk'd musing forth; e'en now I view
Majestic Wisdom thron'd upon his brow,
View Candor fmile upon his modeft-cheek, And from his eye all Judgment's radiance break. 'Twas here the fage his manly zeal expreft,
Here stript vain falfhood of her gaudy veft;
Here Truth's collected beams first fill'd his mind,
E'er long to burft in bleffings on mankind;
E'er long to fhew to reafon's purged eye,
That" NATURE'S FIRST BEST GIFT WAS LIBERTY."
Proud of this wond'rous fon, fublime I ftood,
(While louder furges fwell'd my rapid flood)
Then vain as Niobe, exulting cry'd,
Iliffus! roll thy fam'd Athenian tide;
Tho' Plato's fteps oft mark'd thy neighb'ring glade,
Tho' fair Lycæum lent it's awful shade,
Tho' ev'ry Academic green impreft
It's image full on thy reflecting breast,
Yet my pure ftream fhall boast as proud a name,
And Britain's ISIS flow with Attic fame.
Alas! how chang'd! where now that Attic boast?
See! Gothic Licence rage o'er all my coaft;
See! Hydra Faction spread it's impious reign,
Poison each breast, and madden ev'ry brain :
Hence frontless crouds, that not content to fright
The blushing Cynthia from her throne of night,
Blaft the fair face of day; and madly bold,
To Freedom's foes infernal orgies hold;
To Freedom's foes, ah! fee the goblet crown'd,
Hear plaufive fhouts to Freedom's foes refound;
The horrid notes my refluent waters daunt,
The Echoes groan, the Dryads quit their haunt;
Learning, that once to all diffus'd her beam,
Now fheds, by ftealth, a partial private gleam,
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