XXXI.

Our hopes and fears are much to blame;
Shall monarch's awe? or crowns inflame?
From grofs mistake our idle tumult fprings;
Thofe men the filly world difarm,

Elude the dart, diffolve the charm,
Who know the fender worth of men and things.

XXXII.

The prefent object, prefent day,

Are idle phantoms, and away;

What's lafting only does exift. Know This,
Life, fame, friends, freedom, empire, all,
Peace, Commerce, Freedom, nobly fall
To launch us on the flood of endless bliss.

XXXIII.

How foreign thefe, though moft in view!
Go, look your whole existence through;
Thence, form your rule; thence fix your estimate,
For fo the gods: but as the gains,

How great the toil! "Twill coft more pains,
To vanquish Folly, than reduce a State.

XXXIV.

Hence, Reafon! the firft palm is thine,
Old Britain learnt from thee to fhine.

By thee, Trades fwarming throng, gay Freedom's fmile,
Armies, in war of fatal frown,

Of peace the pride, Arts flowing down, Enrich, exalt, defend, inftruct our isle.

STRAIN THE SECOND.

THE ARGUMENT.

Arts from Commerce. Why Britons should purfue it. What wealth includes. An Hiftorical digreffion which kind is most frequent in Pindar. The wealth and wonderful glory of Tyre. The approach of her ruin. The cause of it. Her crimes through all ranks and orders. Her miferable fall. The neighbouring kings just reflection on it. An awful image of the Divine Power and Vengeance. From what Tyre fell, and how deep her calamity.

I.

COMMERCE gives arts, as well as gain;
By Commerce wafted o'er the main,
They barbarous climes enlighten as they run;
Arts, the rich traffick of the foul!

May travel, thus, from pole to pole,

And gild the world with Learning's brighter fun.

II.

Commerce gives learning, virtue, gold!
Ply Commerce, then, ye Britons bold,
Inur'd to winds and feas! left Gods repent:
The Gods that thron'd you in the wave,
And, as the trident's emblem, gave
A triple realm, that awes the continent:

III. And

III.

And awes with wealth; for wealth is power: When Jove defcends a golden fhower, 'Tis navies, armies, empire, all, in one.View, emulate, outfhine old Tyre; In fcarlet rob'd, with gems on fire, Her merchants, princes! every deck, a throne!

IV.

She fate an emprefs! aw'd the flood!
Her ftable column Ocean trod;

She call'd the nations, and the call'd the seas,
By Both obey'd: the Syrian fings;

The Cyprian's art her viol ftrings;
Togarmagh's fteed along her valley neighs.

V.

The fir of Senir makes her floor,

And Bafhan's oak, transform'd, her oar;
High Lebanon her maft; far Dedan warms
Her mantled hoft; Arabia feeds ;
Her fail of purple Egypt spreads;
Arvad fends mariners; the Perfian, arms.

VI.

The world's laft limit bounds her fame ;
The golden city was her name!

Thofe ftars on earth, the topaz, onyx, blaze
Beneath her foot: extent of coast,

And rich as Nile's, let others boaft;
Hers he far nobler harvest of the feas.

VII. O mer

VII.

O merchant land! as Eden fair!

Antient of Empires! Nature's care !

The strength of Ocean! head of Plenty's Springs ! The pride of Ifles! In wars rever'd !

Mother of crafts! lov'd! courted! fear'd!
Pilot of kingdoms ! and support of kings!
VIII.

Great mart of nations !-But the fell:
Her pamper'd fons revolt! rebel!

Against his favourite ifle loud roars the main!
The tempeft howls! her sculptur'd dome
Soon, the wolf's refuge; dragon's home!
The land, one altar! a whole people, sain !

IX.

The deftin'd day puts on her frown
The fable hour is coming down :

She's on her march from yon Almighty throne:
The fword and form are in her hand;
She trumpets fhrill her dread command:
Dark be the light of earth! the boast, unknown!

X.

For, oh her fins as red as blood,

As crimson deep, outcry the flood;

The Queen of Trade is bought! once wife and just, Now, venal is her council's tongue :

How riot, violence, and wrong,

Turn gold to drofs, her blossom into duft!

5

XI. To

XI.

To things inglorious, far beneath

Thofe high-born fouls they proudly breathe,
Her fordid noble finks! her mighty, bow!
Is it for this, the groves around
Return the tabret's sprightly found ?
Is it for this, her great-ones toss the brow?
XII.

What burning feuds 'twixt brothers reign!
To nuptials cold, how glows the vein,
Confounding kindred, and misleading right?
The Spurious lord it o'er the land !

Bold Blafphemy dares make a stand, Affault the fky, and brandish all her might : XIII.

Tyre's artizan, sweet orator,

Her merchant, fage, big man of war,

Her judge, her prophet, nay her hoary heads,
Whose brows with wisdom should be crown'd,
Her very priests in guilt abound:

Hence, the world's cedar all her honours fheds.

XIV.

What death of truth! what thirst of gold!
Chiefs warm in peace, in battle cold!
What youth unletter'd! base ones lifted high!
What public boasts! what private views!
What defert temples! crowded stews !
What women!-practis'd but to rowl an eye!