Submiss I honor every sacred name, Deep in the column grav'd of adamantine fame. XII. But cease, my Muse, with tender wing, May Britain ne'er the weight of slav'ry feel; XIII. Lo! yonder negligently laid Fast by the stream's impurpled side, Each sacred Poet strikes his tuneful lyre, And wakes the ravish'd heart, and bids the soul aspire. XIV. No more is heard the plaintive strain, Or pleasing Melancholy's song, And joins the love-exulting throng: For Cupid flutters round with golden dart, XV. There stretch'd at ease Anacreon gay; And on his melting Lesbia's breast, With eye half-rais'd, Catullus lay, And gaz'd himself to balmy rest: While Venus' self through all the am'rous groves With kisses fresh distill'd supply'd their constant loves. XVI. Now Horace' hand the string inspir'd; My soul, impatient as he sung, And heavenly accents seiz'd my tongue : XVII. Hail, glorious Bard! whose high command At once the bold and tender lay! Not mighty Homer down Parnassus steep XVIII. O could I catch one ray divine Then should the Muse her choicest influence shed, XIX. Then would I sing the sons of Fame, Or ope fair Friendship's sacred page, And leave the sullen thought and struggling groan, To take their watchful stands around the gaudy throne. ODE XXVII. ON THE INSTITUTION OF A SOCIETY IN LIVERPOOL, FOR THE ENCOURAGEMENT OF DESIGNING, DRAWING, PAINTING, &c DECEMBER 17, 1773. BY WILLIAM ROSCOE. Quel prèsage pour Polhimnie! FROM climes where Slavery's iron chain GRESSET. Disdainful of each former seat, The Arts, a lovely train, retreat: And when the Power transferr'd her smile The lovely Fugitives forgot to roam, But rais'd their altars here, and fix'd their happier home. Swift fly the hovering shades of Night, Or shrink at Satire's pointed rage; Thro' Fancy's realins the wondering mind to bear, And for her sister Arts an easier path prepare. Of power to still the raging deep, Her strains can every care control, And waft to heaven the list'ning soul; And tune the amorous pulse to love: Pure as the vestal's sacred fire; Now loud and dreadful swell the strong alarms, Foment the thirst of blood, the glorious rage of arms. Next came the Power, in whom conjoin'd O'er every part the veil of beauty cast, In heav'nly colors bright, thro' numerous years to last. Hers is the glowing bold design, |