The praise of peace A poem. In Three cantos. From the Dutch of M. Van Haren, one of the Deputies of the Province of West-Friesland in the Assembly of their High Mightinesses the States General [by Samuel Boyse] |
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| 1. | CANTO I. |
| II. |
| III. |
 | The praise of peace |  |
CANTO I.
O nimium cælo, & Pelago confise sereno,
Nudus in ignotâ, Palinure! jacebis arenâ.
Virg. Æn. V.
Nudus in ignotâ, Palinure! jacebis arenâ.
Virg. Æn. V.
Daughter of Jove! Calliope divine,
Round whose fair Brow ambrosial Flowrets shine!
Descend, bright Muse, display thy radiant Face,
And teach the Lyre to sing the Sweets of Peace!
Round whose fair Brow ambrosial Flowrets shine!
Descend, bright Muse, display thy radiant Face,
And teach the Lyre to sing the Sweets of Peace!
Let others paint th'exalted Hero's State,
Alike in Conquest, or Misfortune great;
A more distinguished Theme attracts my Choice,
Celestial Freedom animates my Voice;
To warn my native Land from Perils shown,
To shew that Peace is Liberty's alone!
To bid her eye the gathering Storm afar,
And timely wise prepare for distant War:
For Belgia's Sake I tune th'historic Lyre,
Nor ask a dearer Motive to inspire;
My sole Ambition is the Patriot's Name,
My Country's Welfare,—all I ask of Fame!
Alike in Conquest, or Misfortune great;
A more distinguished Theme attracts my Choice,
Celestial Freedom animates my Voice;
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To shew that Peace is Liberty's alone!
To bid her eye the gathering Storm afar,
And timely wise prepare for distant War:
For Belgia's Sake I tune th'historic Lyre,
Nor ask a dearer Motive to inspire;
My sole Ambition is the Patriot's Name,
My Country's Welfare,—all I ask of Fame!
But hark! what martial Sounds my Ear surprise?
What dreadful Shouts! and intermingled Cries!
Why waves Destruction her infernal Brand?
And scatters wild Affright thro' Europe's Land!
Scarce has she felt an Interval of Rest,
When new Commotions heave her troubled Breast!
Or is the Age of Cadmus come again?
When iron Harvests blast the verdant Plain.
What dreadful Shouts! and intermingled Cries!
Why waves Destruction her infernal Brand?
And scatters wild Affright thro' Europe's Land!
Scarce has she felt an Interval of Rest,
When new Commotions heave her troubled Breast!
Or is the Age of Cadmus come again?
When iron Harvests blast the verdant Plain.
'Tis wild Ambition, deaf to Nature's Call,
'Tis she, curst Goddess, is the Cause of all!
No social Ties can bind her lawless Force,
No Faith, no Justice stop her furious Course!
From Beauty's Arms reluctant Mars she wakes,
His Helm she braces, and his Spear she shakes;
Then bids the God in Blood his Wrath asswage,
And o'er the World relentless pour his Rage!
Did not bright Pallas, with her temper'd Shield,
Stop his Advance,—and half dispute the Field.
'Tis she, curst Goddess, is the Cause of all!
No social Ties can bind her lawless Force,
No Faith, no Justice stop her furious Course!
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His Helm she braces, and his Spear she shakes;
Then bids the God in Blood his Wrath asswage,
And o'er the World relentless pour his Rage!
Did not bright Pallas, with her temper'd Shield,
Stop his Advance,—and half dispute the Field.
All-ruling Heav'n, to plague a guilty Earth,
First gave these arbitrary Nimrods Birth;
Who, deaf to Pity, see a World in Flame,
And millions bleed to raise one Madman's Name!
First gave these arbitrary Nimrods Birth;
Who, deaf to Pity, see a World in Flame,
And millions bleed to raise one Madman's Name!
See! while the Trumpet eccho's from afar,
And mad Bellona wakes the rising War!
The Rhine and Danube, in their oozy Beds,
Retiring creep, and hide their frighted Heads!
While banish'd by the noisy Cannon's Roar,
Fair Themis flies, and seeks the Asian Shore;
Where calm Euphrates rolls her Silver Flood,
Or Tygris flows unstain'd with human Blood;
There reaps the Native his abundant Grain,
Nor sees Invasion spoil his peaceful Plain.
Heav'ns! shall th'invidious Cock
the Eagle plume?
While the pale Crescents double Light assume:
Or shall divided Europe tear her Breast,
And leave an easy Conquest to the East?
And mad Bellona wakes the rising War!
The Rhine and Danube, in their oozy Beds,
Retiring creep, and hide their frighted Heads!
While banish'd by the noisy Cannon's Roar,
Fair Themis flies, and seeks the Asian Shore;
Where calm Euphrates rolls her Silver Flood,
Or Tygris flows unstain'd with human Blood;
There reaps the Native his abundant Grain,
Nor sees Invasion spoil his peaceful Plain.
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While the pale Crescents double Light assume:
Or shall divided Europe tear her Breast,
And leave an easy Conquest to the East?
No,—rather let religious Madness reign!
Rage holy Wars! Crusados flame again!
To Syria's Strand let other Godfreys go,
And waste their Vengeance on the Arab-Foe!
Wild tho' the Fury, unprovok'd the War,
Yet better it should vent its Force so far.
Then might rich Lombardy unwasted smile,
And fair Bohemia bless her fertile Soil;
Then should the Swede, content with Freedom's Charms,
No more provoke the potent Russian's Arms;
Nor Gallic Gold its wicked Influence boast,
And raise Hostilities on every Coast.
Rage holy Wars! Crusados flame again!
To Syria's Strand let other Godfreys go,
And waste their Vengeance on the Arab-Foe!
Wild tho' the Fury, unprovok'd the War,
Yet better it should vent its Force so far.
Then might rich Lombardy unwasted smile,
And fair Bohemia bless her fertile Soil;
Then should the Swede, content with Freedom's Charms,
No more provoke the potent Russian's Arms;
Nor Gallic Gold its wicked Influence boast,
And raise Hostilities on every Coast.
While thus dread Mars, from his ensanguin'd Car,
Pours wild Affright, and animates the War:
Pollutes the Earth, and taints the chrystal Flood,
With lawless Havoc, and with human Blood;
Pleas'd in his Progress as he looks behind,
To see the Ruin suit his savage Mind;
To view the chearful Marks of Labour broke,
The Harvest vanish, and the Village smoke:
Only the Peasant left,—spar'd to deplore
His cruel Fate, and curse the Hand of Pow'r.
While thus the God extends his potent Sway,
From Elbe to Rhine, victorious in his Way!
Say Heav'n-born Peace, say where dost thou reside?
What Nations bless thee? or what Regions hide?
Where shall the Muse discover thy Retreat,
And pay her willing Homage at thy Feet:
Pours wild Affright, and animates the War:
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With lawless Havoc, and with human Blood;
Pleas'd in his Progress as he looks behind,
To see the Ruin suit his savage Mind;
To view the chearful Marks of Labour broke,
The Harvest vanish, and the Village smoke:
Only the Peasant left,—spar'd to deplore
His cruel Fate, and curse the Hand of Pow'r.
While thus the God extends his potent Sway,
From Elbe to Rhine, victorious in his Way!
Say Heav'n-born Peace, say where dost thou reside?
What Nations bless thee? or what Regions hide?
Where shall the Muse discover thy Retreat,
And pay her willing Homage at thy Feet:
But hark! what pleasing Sounds salute my Ears?
Methinks fair Belgia to my Sight appears;
Rais'd from her sea-green Couch,—a Matron-form!
In Freedom great,—and braves the threat'ning Storm;
“Hither, (she cries with a majestic Air)
“Let the Distress'd and Desolate repair!
“Here Peace invites, sole Partner of my Throne,
“And calls these happy Provinces her own:
“This Halcyon Clime no rude Alarms infest,
“Here exil'd Virtue finds a welcome Rest;
“Peace guards my Limits with her olive Wand,
“And Arts and Riches rise on every Hand;
“The gladsome Peasant tills the fertile Plain,
“Assur'd in Safety to enjoy the Gain;
“My wealthy Merchants trust their annual Store,
“To the known Flag, rever'd by every Pow'r.
“My Citizens, like those of antient Tyre!
“Behold ev'n Kings their Amity desire:
“My People all one general Union prove,
“Deriv'd from Liberty, fair Source of Love!
“Hence Commerce, beauteous Commerce! smiles to flow,
“As far as Ocean rolls, or Winds can blow!
“She spreads my Fame to either India wide,
“She brings back Treasures each alternate Tide!
“And long as Winds can waft, or Seas can flow,
“That Fame shall brighten, and that Plenty grow!
Methinks fair Belgia to my Sight appears;
Rais'd from her sea-green Couch,—a Matron-form!
In Freedom great,—and braves the threat'ning Storm;
“Hither, (she cries with a majestic Air)
“Let the Distress'd and Desolate repair!
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“And calls these happy Provinces her own:
“This Halcyon Clime no rude Alarms infest,
“Here exil'd Virtue finds a welcome Rest;
“Peace guards my Limits with her olive Wand,
“And Arts and Riches rise on every Hand;
“The gladsome Peasant tills the fertile Plain,
“Assur'd in Safety to enjoy the Gain;
“My wealthy Merchants trust their annual Store,
“To the known Flag, rever'd by every Pow'r.
“My Citizens, like those of antient Tyre!
“Behold ev'n Kings their Amity desire:
“My People all one general Union prove,
“Deriv'd from Liberty, fair Source of Love!
“Hence Commerce, beauteous Commerce! smiles to flow,
“As far as Ocean rolls, or Winds can blow!
“She spreads my Fame to either India wide,
“She brings back Treasures each alternate Tide!
“And long as Winds can waft, or Seas can flow,
“That Fame shall brighten, and that Plenty grow!
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Fair sounds this Language as the Syren's Strain,
But to Precaution's Ear it sounds in vain!
Experience ushers Doubt into the Breast,
And whispering, asks—“Is Belgia quite so blest?
“Or if no Phantom dress'd in fair Disguise,
“Instead of real Peace deludes our Eyes?
But to Precaution's Ear it sounds in vain!
Experience ushers Doubt into the Breast,
And whispering, asks—“Is Belgia quite so blest?
“Or if no Phantom dress'd in fair Disguise,
“Instead of real Peace deludes our Eyes?
A Shade there is, Security her Name,
That oft misleads the most sagacious Aim;
Lulls in false Rest the Rulers of a State,
And leads them blindfold on the Shelves of Fate!
So to th'unhappy Palinurus' Eyes,
Appear'd the shadowy Shore, and painted Skies;
No more his steddy Rudder rul'd the Deep,
Heav'n seal'd his Eye-lids in eternal Sleep!
Nor had the Trojans touch'd th'Etrurian Realm,
If wise Æneas had not kept the Helm!
That oft misleads the most sagacious Aim;
Lulls in false Rest the Rulers of a State,
And leads them blindfold on the Shelves of Fate!
So to th'unhappy Palinurus' Eyes,
Appear'd the shadowy Shore, and painted Skies;
No more his steddy Rudder rul'd the Deep,
Heav'n seal'd his Eye-lids in eternal Sleep!
Nor had the Trojans touch'd th'Etrurian Realm,
If wise Æneas had not kept the Helm!
Peace is the Daughter of celestial Morn,
Whom Virtue, Truth, and Liberty adorn!
Security, the base-born Child of Hell,
With whom Corruption, Fraud, and Ruin dwell.
Whom Virtue, Truth, and Liberty adorn!
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With whom Corruption, Fraud, and Ruin dwell.
In Scythia's
Waste beneath the polar Skies,
Conceal'd from Day, a dreary Region lies!
There Pines dark-shading form a double Night,
Impervious to the smallest Glimpse of Light:
Eternal Clouds enfold the gloomy Plain,
And threaten to descend in Floods of Rain.
No Mortal e'er approach'd the dismal Seat,
Ev'n Beasts of Prey avoid the dread Retreat;
Where two immortal Pow'rs their Empire keep,
And Silence reigns the consort-queen of Sleep.
Conceal'd from Day, a dreary Region lies!
There Pines dark-shading form a double Night,
Impervious to the smallest Glimpse of Light:
Eternal Clouds enfold the gloomy Plain,
And threaten to descend in Floods of Rain.
No Mortal e'er approach'd the dismal Seat,
Ev'n Beasts of Prey avoid the dread Retreat;
Where two immortal Pow'rs their Empire keep,
And Silence reigns the consort-queen of Sleep.
Full in the Midst, an ice-crown'd Mountain's Head
O'er Zembla's Ocean casts its lengthen'd Shade;
Where in a spatious Cave's incircling Breast,
The God compos'd, enjoys eternal Rest!
There no Alarms his downy Slumbers wake,
Infest his Quiet, or his Visions break;
For watchful Silence, Guardian of his Bed,
Stills every Sound that might his Ease invade!
While Morpheus hov'ring, with retentive Breath,
Spreads round the Dome the Solitude of Death!
Beneath his Feet, unfading Poppies bloom,
And grateful shed their lulling mild Perfume;
Round which innumerous Dreams in millions play,
Busy as Bees in July's Noontide Day!
Here they resort, and from the potent Juice,
The visionary Scenes of Life produce;
But soon as chirps the solemn Bird of Night,
Morpheus with Ebon Wand directs their Flight;
Softly he drives them thro' the darksome Port,
And sends them o'er the peopled Earth to sport;
They fly,—no Obstacles retard their Way,
Thro' Walls they penetrate, thro' Keyholes stray!
Nor miss a Place where restless Mortals dwell,
Down from the crowded City to the Cell.
O'er Zembla's Ocean casts its lengthen'd Shade;
Where in a spatious Cave's incircling Breast,
The God compos'd, enjoys eternal Rest!
There no Alarms his downy Slumbers wake,
Infest his Quiet, or his Visions break;
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Stills every Sound that might his Ease invade!
While Morpheus hov'ring, with retentive Breath,
Spreads round the Dome the Solitude of Death!
Beneath his Feet, unfading Poppies bloom,
And grateful shed their lulling mild Perfume;
Round which innumerous Dreams in millions play,
Busy as Bees in July's Noontide Day!
Here they resort, and from the potent Juice,
The visionary Scenes of Life produce;
But soon as chirps the solemn Bird of Night,
Morpheus with Ebon Wand directs their Flight;
Softly he drives them thro' the darksome Port,
And sends them o'er the peopled Earth to sport;
They fly,—no Obstacles retard their Way,
Thro' Walls they penetrate, thro' Keyholes stray!
Nor miss a Place where restless Mortals dwell,
Down from the crowded City to the Cell.
Of these some chuse to haunt the Domes of State,
And smile to see the Troubles of the Great;
To show that Grandeur is a wretched Thing,
Their rebel Hands dethrone the scepter'd King;
While others sportive to his envy'd Place,
Exalt the Clown, tho' born of lowly Race;
The Monarch sighs!—he feels the Want of Pow'r,
The Peasant smiles,—and is a Wretch no more!
And smile to see the Troubles of the Great;
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Their rebel Hands dethrone the scepter'd King;
While others sportive to his envy'd Place,
Exalt the Clown, tho' born of lowly Race;
The Monarch sighs!—he feels the Want of Pow'r,
The Peasant smiles,—and is a Wretch no more!
Others to Friendship's Aid propitious move,
And bless a Passion which they most approve;
These wake the Dead, and to the mental Eyes,
Bid the lost Parent, Wife, or Brother rise!
With Joy we view the well remember'd Face,
The Voice we hear,—the Shadow we embrace!
So well these airy Players act their Part,
Not Truth more vivid Pleasure can impart;
They know how feeble Mortals judge of Things,
They sound our Hearts, and touch their tenderest Strings!
And bless a Passion which they most approve;
These wake the Dead, and to the mental Eyes,
Bid the lost Parent, Wife, or Brother rise!
With Joy we view the well remember'd Face,
The Voice we hear,—the Shadow we embrace!
So well these airy Players act their Part,
Not Truth more vivid Pleasure can impart;
They know how feeble Mortals judge of Things,
They sound our Hearts, and touch their tenderest Strings!
Our Hopes and Fears alternate others raise,
And pain at will th'impassion'd Mind, or please;
These the fond Lover's anxious Thoughts beguile,
And paint a Chloe's Frown, or Cælia's Smile;
Here point a Grace, diminish there a Charm,
And Beauty's Pow'r or heighten, or disarm;
To the despairing Youth in sweet Disguise,
They bid the dear disdainful Daphne rise;
No more her Form forbidding Terrors shroud,
Nor thinks th'Ixion that he grasps a Cloud!
What swelling Joys his raptur'd Heart o'erpow'r?
How soft the sweet Delusion of an Hour!
But see to Damon, Delia looks severe!
How starts the Lover at the alter'd Fair?
To see the Maid his tender Suit repress,
With whom his waking Vows still found Success:
Objects like these the am'rous Sylphs delight,
And form th'important Business of the Night!
And pain at will th'impassion'd Mind, or please;
These the fond Lover's anxious Thoughts beguile,
And paint a Chloe's Frown, or Cælia's Smile;
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And Beauty's Pow'r or heighten, or disarm;
To the despairing Youth in sweet Disguise,
They bid the dear disdainful Daphne rise;
No more her Form forbidding Terrors shroud,
Nor thinks th'Ixion that he grasps a Cloud!
What swelling Joys his raptur'd Heart o'erpow'r?
How soft the sweet Delusion of an Hour!
But see to Damon, Delia looks severe!
How starts the Lover at the alter'd Fair?
To see the Maid his tender Suit repress,
With whom his waking Vows still found Success:
Objects like these the am'rous Sylphs delight,
And form th'important Business of the Night!
To Courts the active Salamanders fly,
(The boldest Spirits that frequent the Sky)
Sworn Foes to Peace! thro' Palaces they creep,
And-fire ev'n Monarch's in the Arms of Sleep;
There paint Ambition, all in Glory drest,
And lodge the Syren in the Royal Breast;
Sudden her Poison all the Mind inflames,
And Conquests rise in sanguinary Dreams!
The Hero wakens—with disclosing Light,
Summons his Troops, and meditates the Fight;
The Arsenals their deadly Treasures pour,
Destruction smiles to see th'infernal Store!
Bellona scents the Carnage from afar,
And hastens to enjoy the Spoils of War!
(The boldest Spirits that frequent the Sky)
Sworn Foes to Peace! thro' Palaces they creep,
And-fire ev'n Monarch's in the Arms of Sleep;
There paint Ambition, all in Glory drest,
And lodge the Syren in the Royal Breast;
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And Conquests rise in sanguinary Dreams!
The Hero wakens—with disclosing Light,
Summons his Troops, and meditates the Fight;
The Arsenals their deadly Treasures pour,
Destruction smiles to see th'infernal Store!
Bellona scents the Carnage from afar,
And hastens to enjoy the Spoils of War!
But of the Swarms, that haunt the Scythian Dome,
The most pernicious is the artful Gnome;
These bred to Fraud, each varied Shape assume,
Bask in the Sun, or glide along the Gloom!
Children of Earth, from their parental Mine,
They borrow Gold to tempt, or Gems to shine;
In Wisdom's Dress their Purpose oft disguise,
And cast a Mist before the Patriot's Eyes;
Or else in Flattery's painted Garb appear,
And lisp Infection to the Sovereign's Ear!
The most pernicious is the artful Gnome;
These bred to Fraud, each varied Shape assume,
Bask in the Sun, or glide along the Gloom!
Children of Earth, from their parental Mine,
They borrow Gold to tempt, or Gems to shine;
In Wisdom's Dress their Purpose oft disguise,
And cast a Mist before the Patriot's Eyes;
Or else in Flattery's painted Garb appear,
And lisp Infection to the Sovereign's Ear!
Nor are Republicks from these Demons free,
They strive to taint the Springs of Liberty;
Restless as Wasps that vex the peaceful Hive,
On popular Credulity they thrive;
To raise Distrust and Jealousy delight,
Or set true Merit in invidious Light;
Till public Virtue firm oppose her Shield,
And drive the Fiends, victorious from the Field.
They strive to taint the Springs of Liberty;
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On popular Credulity they thrive;
To raise Distrust and Jealousy delight,
Or set true Merit in invidious Light;
Till public Virtue firm oppose her Shield,
And drive the Fiends, victorious from the Field.
Or if the Guardians of a Free-born State,
Neglect the weighty Charge assign'd by Fate;
If those in whom the publick Weal resides,
Or Interest sways, or lawless Pow'r misguides;
If deep Corruption latent Venom sheds,
And threatens Ruin, as the Gangrene spreads;
Sudden, these busy Spirits shew their Art,
And fly to take the ministerial Part:
“Were ever Rulers (they exclaim) so just?
“Were ever Senators more worthy Trust!
“Safe may you rest in Confidence and Ease,
“When blest with watchful Ciceros, like these:
So Grave harangue the Crowd, these wicked Elves,
But Men of Sense are Judges for themselves.
Neglect the weighty Charge assign'd by Fate;
If those in whom the publick Weal resides,
Or Interest sways, or lawless Pow'r misguides;
If deep Corruption latent Venom sheds,
And threatens Ruin, as the Gangrene spreads;
Sudden, these busy Spirits shew their Art,
And fly to take the ministerial Part:
“Were ever Rulers (they exclaim) so just?
“Were ever Senators more worthy Trust!
“Safe may you rest in Confidence and Ease,
“When blest with watchful Ciceros, like these:
So Grave harangue the Crowd, these wicked Elves,
But Men of Sense are Judges for themselves.
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If Union is the Blessing of the State,
If Concord makes a happy People great;
That Bliss to undermine, and blast the Joy,
These hellish Engineers their Skill employ.—
They whisper—“Freedom is a tender Thing,
“A Stadtholder may rise,—and grow a King;
“Or what if you exclude the O---e Race?
“If petty Tyrants lord it in the Place!
Does Honesty such envious Shafts repel?
They call up Discord from her noisy Cell,
And bid the Fury, with her poison'd Brand,
Drive heav'nly Peace from the distracted Land.
If Concord makes a happy People great;
That Bliss to undermine, and blast the Joy,
These hellish Engineers their Skill employ.—
They whisper—“Freedom is a tender Thing,
“A Stadtholder may rise,—and grow a King;
“Or what if you exclude the O---e Race?
“If petty Tyrants lord it in the Place!
Does Honesty such envious Shafts repel?
They call up Discord from her noisy Cell,
And bid the Fury, with her poison'd Brand,
Drive heav'nly Peace from the distracted Land.
Of all the Plagues that speak a Nation curs'd,
A False-Security is sure the worst!
Freedom, like Sampson, in her lewd Embrace
Sinks to Repose, nor sees his own Disgrace:
In vain the blackening Clouds the Skies deform,
In vain the wakening Winds forebode a Storm!
In vain the piercing Clarion sounds to Arms,
Th'insensate Sleeper slights its loud Alarms!
“Peace, Peace (she crys, and falters in her Voice)
“Eternal Peace for ever be my Choice!
“Approach no martial Sounds my quiet Ear,
“The noblest Triumphs cost the World too dear!
“What tempts you to unsheath the cruel Sword?
“Repose with me, and take a Neighbour's. Word:
“What tho' his numerous Squadrons rise in View?
“He promises—he means no hurt to you!
“Then spare your Toils, compose your troubled Breast!
“And taste with me the endless Sweets of Rest!
A False-Security is sure the worst!
Freedom, like Sampson, in her lewd Embrace
Sinks to Repose, nor sees his own Disgrace:
In vain the blackening Clouds the Skies deform,
In vain the wakening Winds forebode a Storm!
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Th'insensate Sleeper slights its loud Alarms!
“Peace, Peace (she crys, and falters in her Voice)
“Eternal Peace for ever be my Choice!
“Approach no martial Sounds my quiet Ear,
“The noblest Triumphs cost the World too dear!
“What tempts you to unsheath the cruel Sword?
“Repose with me, and take a Neighbour's. Word:
“What tho' his numerous Squadrons rise in View?
“He promises—he means no hurt to you!
“Then spare your Toils, compose your troubled Breast!
“And taste with me the endless Sweets of Rest!
She speaks,—when see a specious Phantom rise!
Whom all the Attributes of Peace disguise:
Her Olive Branch she waves with formal Air,
The Cap of Freedom hangs upon her Spear!
Around her all the busy Demons throng,
And sound her Praises as she moves along!
“Belgians, (they cry) your Guardian-Goddess bless!
“This, this is Peace,—the Cause of your Success!
The cheated Crowd the shadowy Form adore,
Delusion smiles to see her growing Pow'r!
But soon to Scythia's Waste the Phantom flies,
Truth clears the Mist that veil'd the vulgar Eyes!
And rous'd by the awakening Hand of Fate,
The People mourn their Error when too late!
Whom all the Attributes of Peace disguise:
Her Olive Branch she waves with formal Air,
The Cap of Freedom hangs upon her Spear!
Around her all the busy Demons throng,
And sound her Praises as she moves along!
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“This, this is Peace,—the Cause of your Success!
The cheated Crowd the shadowy Form adore,
Delusion smiles to see her growing Pow'r!
But soon to Scythia's Waste the Phantom flies,
Truth clears the Mist that veil'd the vulgar Eyes!
And rous'd by the awakening Hand of Fate,
The People mourn their Error when too late!
The End of the first Canto.
| The praise of peace | |