Poems on Several Occasions :: :: University of Virginia Library

Hence slavish Fear! thy Stygian Wings display!
Thou ugly Fiend of Hell, away!
Wrapp'd in thick Clouds, and Shades of Night,
To conscious Souls direct thy Flight!
There brood on Guilt, fix there a loath'd Embrace,
And propagate vain Terrors, Frights,
Dreams, Goblins, and imagin'd Sprights,
Thy visionary Tribe, thy black and monstrous Race.
Go, haunt the Slave that stains his Hands in Gore!
Possess the perjur'd Mind, and rack the Usurer more,
Than his Oppression did the Poor before.

II.

Vainly, you feeble Wretches, you prepare
The glitt'ring Forgery of War;

114

The poison'd Shaft, the Parthian Bow, and Spear
Like that the warlike Moor is wont to wield,
Which pois'd and guided from his Ear
He hurls impetuous thro' the Field:
In vain you lace the Helm, and heave in vain the Shield;
He's only safe, whose Armour of Defence
Is Adamantine Innocence.

III.

If o'er the Steepy Alps he go,
Vast Mountains of eternal Snow,
Or where fam'd Ganges and Hydaspes flow;
If o'er parch'd Libya's desart Land,
Where, threatning from afar,
Th'affrighted Traveller
Encounters moving Hills of Sand;
No Sense of Danger can disturb his Rest;
He fears no human Force, nor savage Beast;
Impenetrable Courage steels his manly Breast.

IV.

Thus, late within the Sabine Grove,
While free from Care, and full of Love,
I raise my tuneful Voice, and stray
Regardless of myself and Way,
A grizly Wolf, with glaring Eye,
View'd me unarm'd, yet pass'd unhurtful by.

115

A fiercer Monster ne'er, in Quest of Food,
Apulian Forests did molest;
Numidia never saw a more prodigious Beast;
Numidia, Mother of the yellow Brood,
Where the stern Lion shakes his knotted Mane,
And roars aloud for Prey, and scours the spacious Plain.

V.

Place me where no soft Breeze of Summer Wind
Did e'er the stiffen'd Soil unbind,
Where no refreshing Warmth e'er durst invade,
But Winter holds his unmolested Seat,
In all his hoary Robes array'd,
And rattling Storms of Hail, and noisy Tempests beat.
Place me beneath the scorching Blaze
Of the fierce Sun's immediate Rays,
Where House or Cottage ne'er were seen,
Nor rooted Plant or Tree, nor springing Green;
Yet, lovely LALAGE, my generous Flame
Shall ne'er expire; I'll boldly sing of Thee,
Charm'd with the Musick of thy Name,
And guarded by the Gods of Love and Poetry.