LYRIC P 4 Music descending on a silent cloud, Tnn'd all her strings with endless art; By slow degrees fromsoft to loud, Changing, she rose: The harp and flute Harmonious join, the hero to salute, And make a captive of his heart. Fruits, and rich wine, and scenes of law- less love Each with utmost luxury strove To treat their favourite best; But soundingstrings, and fruits, and wine, And lawless love, in vain combine To make his virtue sleep, or lull his soul to rest. b He saw the tedious round, and, with a sigh,' Pronounc'd the world but vanity: " r In crowds of pleasure still I find A painful solitude of mind," A vacancy within which sense can ne'er supply. Hence, and be gone, ye flatt'ring snares, Ye vulgar charms of eyes and ears, Ye unperformingpromisers! Be all my baser passions dead, And base desires, by nature made For animals and boys: Man has a relish more refin'd, Souls are for social bliss design'd, Give me a blessing fit to match my mind, A kindred -soul to double and to share my joys." s Myrrha appear'd : serene her soul And active as the sun, yet steady as the pole; In softer beauties shone her face ; Every muse, and every grace, Made her heart and tongue their seat, Her heart profusely good ; her tongue divinely sweet; Myrrha the wonder of his eyes His heartrecoil'dwith sweet surprise, With joys unknown before: His souldissolv'd in pleasing pain Flow'd to hiseyes, and look'dagain, And could endure no more. " Enough! th' impatient hero cries," And seiz'd her to his breast, " I seek no more below the skies, I givemy slaves the rest." TO DAVID POLHILL, Esq. An answer to an infamous Satire, called Advice to a Painter; written by a nameless Author,againstKingWilliam III. of glorious memory. 1698. Sto, " WHEN you put this satire into my hands, you gave me the occasion of em- ploying my pen to answer so detestable a writing ; which might be done much more effectually by your known zeal for the interest of his majesty, your conn- OEMS. 279 sels and your courage, employed in the defence of your king and country. And since you provoked me to write, you will accept of these efforts ofmy loyalty to the hest of kings, addressed to one of the most zealous of his subjects, by. Your most obedientservant, I. W." PART I. AND most the hero, that redeem'd our land, [stand? Here in the front of vice and scandal The man of wondrous soul, that scorn 'd his ease, [seas, Tempting the winters, and the faithless And paid an annual tribute of his life To guard hisEngland learn thelrish knife, And crush the French dragoon? Most William's name, That brightest star that gilds the wings of fame, William the brave,the pions,and the just, Adorn these gloomy scenes of tyranny and lúot? Polhill, my blood boilshigh, myspi- rits flame ; [dons tame ? Can yourzeal sleep ! Or are your pas- Nor call revenge and darkness on the poet's name ? Why smoke the skies not? Why no , thunders roll? [soul? Nor kindling lightnings blast his guilty Audacious wretch to stab a monarch's fame, And fire his subjects with a rebel -flame; To call the painter to his black designs, To draw ourguardian'sface inhell ishlines: Painter, beware ! the monarch can be shown Under no shape but angels, or his own, Gabriel, or William, on the British throne. O ! could my thought but grasp the vast design, And words with infinite ideas join, I'd rouse Apelles, from his iron sleep, And bid him trace the warrior o'er the deep Trace him, Apellès, o'er the Belgian plain Fierce, how he climbs the mountains of the slain, Scatt'ring just vengeance thro'the red campaign. Then dash the canvass with a flying stroke, ' Till it be lost in clouds of fire and smoke, And say, 'Twas thus the conqueror thro' the squadronsbroke. Mark him again emerging from the cloud, Far from his troops; therelike a rock he stood His country's single - barriee in a sea of blood.
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