Mark but the ruthless Indian's soul,
Which no ingenuous thoughts control,
Where pity never dwelt ;

By Beauty, Fancy's loveliest child,
'Mid lorn savannahs waste and wild,
With human feelings melt!

Behold the powerful charm assuage
The hoary lion's lawless rage:
He owns the wanton fire;
And lordly roaming o'er the plain,
Singles the fairest of his train
To feed the loose desire !

But wouldst thou feel a purer flame Than ev'n the warmest wish can frame,

By much too fine to cloy;

Far, far beyond that aching breast, With which the village hind's opprest, Who idly terms it joy?

Has heaven, indulgent to thy make,
Form'd thee to every sense awake,
Blith hope, or frantic fear?
Can human miseries steal a sigh,
Or from thy soft consenting eye
Can pity draw the tear?

Canst thou with wild Othello glow
In all his maddening jealous woe,
By Love's dark doubts distrest?
With treacherous Jaffier dost thou feel
Th' impending tortures of the wheel,
That wound his guilty breast?

Tell me, can Pindar's lofty strain,
Luxuriant Fancy's fruitful vein,
The noblest thoughts infuse?
Say, do you taste his generous fire,
Or canst thou feelingly expire
To Sappho's plaintive muse ?

See'st thou the warmth, the grace divine, That breathes thro' mild Correggio's line, By heaven's peculiar care?

Does Guido wrap thee in delight?

Can Titian's colours charm thy sight?

Or Julio's godlike air?

Say, does thy heart with rapture spring,
When Handel strikes the magic string,
With transport do you hear?
Or dost thou languish into pain
When soft Correlli's tender strain
Subdues the ravish'd ear?

Canst thou with Freedom's sons rejoice
To hear th' Athenian Patriot's voice,
'Mid tyrants undismay'd?

But fails his bolder fire-O say,

Can Tully charm each sense away,

And baffle reason's aid?

Canst thou, with pity mov'd, bewail
The simple Emma's hapless tale,

And fond believing heart?

Or say, does Eloisa's line,

Where learning, taste, and love combine,

A nobler flame impart ?

The Muse in mild melodious lays
Instruction's awful voice conveys,
And each wild wish disarms;
While picture's arts alone can trace
Each soften'd line, each secret grace,
And add to Beauty's charms.

Should Hope her lenient aid refuse,
Tho' each disastrous day renews
One sadden'd scene of woe;
From pleasing symphony of sound,
When melting notes dissolve around,
Unnumber'd raptures flow.

Music her sister arts may aid,

And Poetry o'er light and shade
Reflect her mutual fire;

Meek suppliants all at Beauty's shrine,
In one united there shall join

The Pencil, Muse, and Lyre.

ODE IV.

ΤΟ

CONCORD.

BY THE REV. MR. HUDSON.

SOUL of the world, first mover, say, From thee what glorious being came, Powerful to raise this universal frame?

Who taught the ponderous wheels to play? Gave beauty to look forth with radiant eyes, And cloath'd with ambient day the chrystal skies? 'Twas Concord, who enthron'd above,

With sevenfold adamantine chains

The path of wandering orbs restrains,
Kindles the genial fire of love,

And walks the courts of genuine light,

(While all heaven hails the wonders of her sight) Where Bliss has banish'd Chance, and sore Annoy, And Goodness fills the cup of general joy.