May such adorn each future age,
Equal to stem wild faction's rage,
Or pull a tyrant down!

Genius of Freedom, and of Peace!
Bid rapine and contention cease!
Protect what you bestow'd!
Well may a burden'd realm complain,
If, rescued from the galling chain,
She sinks beneath her load.

ODE XIV.

ON

LORD HAY's BIRTH-DAY.

(The present Earl of Errol.)

BY JAMES BEATTIE, LL. D.

A MUSE, unskill'd in venal praise,
Unstain'd with flattery's art;

Who loves simplicity of lays

Breath'd ardent from the heart; While gratitude and joy inspire, Resumes the long unpractis'd lyre, To hail, O HAY! thy natal morn: No gaudy wreath of flowers she weaves, But twines with oak the laurel-leaves, Thy cradle to adorn.

For not on beds of gaudy flowers

Thine Ancestors reclin'd:

Where sloth dissolves, and spleen devours,

All energy of mind.

To hurl the dart, to ride the car,

To stem the deluges of war,

And snatch from fate a sinking land
Trample th' invader's lofty crest,

And from his grasp the dagger wrest, And desolating brand.

'Twas this that rais'd th' illustrious line To match the first in fame.

A thousand years have seen it shine
With unabated flame:

Have seen thy mighty sires appear
Foremost in glory's high career,
The pride and pattern of the brave.
Yet, pure from lust of blood their fire,
And from Ambition's wild desire;

They triumph'd but to save.

The Muse with joy attends their

The vales of peace along:

There to its Lord the village gay
Exalts the grateful song.

way

Yon castle's glittering towers contain
No pit of wo, no clanking chain;
Nor to the suppliant's wail resound:
The opening doors the needy bless,
The unfriended hail their calm recess;
And gladness smiles around.

There, to the sympathetic heart,
Life's best delights belong:
To mitigate the mourner's smart,
To guard the weak from wrong.

Ye sons of Luxury, be wise;
Know, Happiness, for ever flies
The cold and solitary breast;
Then let the social instinct glow,
And learn to feel another's wo;
And in his joy be bless'd.

O yet, ere Pleasure plant her snare
For unsuspecting youth;

Ere Flattery her song prepare

To check the voice of Truth;

O may his country's guardian power Attend the slumbering infant's bower, And bright Elysian dreams impart

To rouse th' hereditary fire;

To kindle each sublime desire, Exalt and warm the heart.

Swift to reward a parent's fears,
A parent's hopes to crown,
Roll on in peace, ye blooming years,
That rear him to renown:

When in his finish'd form and face,
Admiring multitudes shall trace
The beauties of his line combin'd;
The courteous, yet majestic mien,
The liberal smile, the look serene,
The great and gentle mind.

Yet, though thou draw a nation's eyes,
And win a nation's love,

B

Let not thy towering mind despise
The village and the grove,

No slanderer there shall wound thy fame;
No ruffian take his deadly aim;

No rival weave the secret snare:
For Innocence with angel-smile,
Simplicity that knows not guile,
And Love and Peace are there.

When winds the mountain oak assail,
And lay its glories waste;
Content may slumber in the vale,

Unconscious of the blast.

Through scenes of tumult while we roam,

The heart, alas! is ne'er at home;

It hopes in time to rove no more:
The mariner, nor vainly brave,

Combats the storm, and rides the wave,
To rest at last on shore.

Ye proud, ye selfish, ye severe,
How vain your mask of state!
The good alone have joy sincere ;
The good alone are great!

Not less when, in the vale of peace,
They bid the plaint of sorrow cease,
And hear the voice of artless praise,
Than when, along the trophy'd plain
Sublime they lead the victor train,
While shouting nations gaze.