 | Shrewsbury quarry |  |
SHREWSBURY QUARRY, &c.
A POEM.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE ROBERT Lord CLIVE.
5
Thy blooming scenes deserve a softer Name;
To the proud Louvre, or, the Mall, in fame,
Thou equal shin'st, with equal beauty bless'd,
By happy art, by bounteous nature dress'd
With matchless charms, reciprocal, that meet
In sweet variety, in contrast sweet;
Harmonious in the reconciling strife,
Like Musick's discords, or like moral life,
That all in seeming hostile order stand,
Yet vindicate the mighty Maker's hand;
Like light and shade the mingled mass contends,
Where all appear as foes, where all as friends;
Thy waving walks, thy woody hills appear
In all the liveries of the lavish year.
Whilst nature here regales the head and heart,
She smiling seems to take the hint from art,
Whilst art with imitative hand would trace
Her Epic grandeur, and unbounded grace;
See both exulting in the simple plan,
Which envy dares not tax, nor malice scan,
Complete in ev'ry part, complete the whole,
Whilst Severn gives the finish'd scene, a soul;
The living, limpid stream a mirror flows,
That all the beauties on its borders shows,
The groves, the hills, that look with pleasure down,
And charity's high Dome those hills to crown;
A charity sublime in piety, and grace,
As much exalted in its worth as place.
Nor shall the Muse o'erlook thy valu'd name,
Oh Millington! thou second born to fame;
Thy godlike shade, the Widow's heart shall cheer
Whilst Severn flows, or Summer clothes the year;
Thy private boon shall with the public's vie,
'Till faith and hope, in Charity, shall dye;
These all survey their image in the deep,
Where fancy flows, and cares are lull'd to sleep;
Delightful Severn, Salop's joy, and pride,
Oh let my numbers like your current glide,
With ease and elegance, with depth and force,
And copy you in your immortal course.
Would now my genius equal my desire,
With Farquhar's fancy, or with Dryden's fire,
To make your murmurs charm the Muse's ear,
And lift your beauties to the starry sphere;
Farquhar, who on your banks his pictures drew,
And ow'd his inspiration all to you;
Let my meek strain your genial vigour share,
Oh make my laurel spring, and make it bear!
My thoughts support, my anxious hopes sustain,
And waft the Cave of Idra to the Main:
Let Salop's high behest fill ev'ry gale,
Let distant Thames take up the happy tale,
In London let it feast the wise and fair,
And matchless Garrick echo Miller there.
To the proud Louvre, or, the Mall, in fame,
Thou equal shin'st, with equal beauty bless'd,
By happy art, by bounteous nature dress'd
With matchless charms, reciprocal, that meet
In sweet variety, in contrast sweet;
Harmonious in the reconciling strife,
Like Musick's discords, or like moral life,
That all in seeming hostile order stand,
Yet vindicate the mighty Maker's hand;
6
Where all appear as foes, where all as friends;
Thy waving walks, thy woody hills appear
In all the liveries of the lavish year.
Whilst nature here regales the head and heart,
She smiling seems to take the hint from art,
Whilst art with imitative hand would trace
Her Epic grandeur, and unbounded grace;
See both exulting in the simple plan,
Which envy dares not tax, nor malice scan,
Complete in ev'ry part, complete the whole,
Whilst Severn gives the finish'd scene, a soul;
The living, limpid stream a mirror flows,
That all the beauties on its borders shows,
The groves, the hills, that look with pleasure down,
And charity's high Dome those hills to crown;
7
As much exalted in its worth as place.
Nor shall the Muse o'erlook thy valu'd name,
Oh Millington! thou second born to fame;
Thy godlike shade, the Widow's heart shall cheer
Whilst Severn flows, or Summer clothes the year;
Thy private boon shall with the public's vie,
'Till faith and hope, in Charity, shall dye;
These all survey their image in the deep,
Where fancy flows, and cares are lull'd to sleep;
Delightful Severn, Salop's joy, and pride,
Oh let my numbers like your current glide,
With ease and elegance, with depth and force,
And copy you in your immortal course.
Would now my genius equal my desire,
With Farquhar's fancy, or with Dryden's fire,
8
And lift your beauties to the starry sphere;
Farquhar, who on your banks his pictures drew,
And ow'd his inspiration all to you;
Let my meek strain your genial vigour share,
Oh make my laurel spring, and make it bear!
My thoughts support, my anxious hopes sustain,
And waft the Cave of Idra to the Main:
Let Salop's high behest fill ev'ry gale,
Let distant Thames take up the happy tale,
In London let it feast the wise and fair,
And matchless Garrick echo Miller there.
See, Severn, on your banks your daughters move,
Daughters of virtue, elegance and love;
Where blooming beauties with the graces blend,
Smile in their smiles, and on their steps attend;
Such blended charms the soul can never pall,
Where all Arcadia mingles with the Mall,
Where courtly grace with rural vigour join'd,
Reigns o'er the heart, and captivates the mind,
Where taste, and dress, and attitude, and air,
With thee, St. James's, may with joy compare,
When birth-night beams with rival radiance vie,
And dazzling diamonds dim the vaquish'd eye,
Where British beauty yields to foreign cost,
And nature, in the borrow'd blaze, is lost;
Salopian Maids (the Muse's happy theme!)
Disdain the rich deceit, the poor extreme,
With native charms, their cheeks alone, shall glow
And to themselves they all their conquests owe,
For nature's happy pencil painted there,
And virtue keeps the lasting colours fair.
Thrice happy Salop, in your daughters crown'd;
Your ruddy sons for manly worth renown'd,
On Severn's banks the breezy balm inhale,
With youthful vigour quaff th'inspiring gale.
By beauty kindled in the pleasing scene
With soul elated, and exalted mien,
They bound exulting by the fair one's side,
The comely consort, or the future bride;
They bound exulting, with unblemish'd glee,
From vile detraction, and from envy free;
With open aspect, and ingenuous air,
To crown the copious bowl, and quaff the fair;
Where mirth, and temperance, and joke, unite,
And frolic candour, and sincere delight
With barter'd joy perform the friendly part,
And strike the kind contagion to the heart;
By spleen unmix'd, where bright affection cheers,
Where repartees attract, where wit endears;
See sportive sallies with kind force abound,
See horrid faction prostrate on the ground,
With party rancour, and with party pride
Trampled and gasping at its hateful side;
By Salop's sons this pest exploded see,
From her infection, as from slav'ry free,
With freedom, candour and good sense they live,
And every social boon, they take, and give;
In traffick bland their mutual minds display,
And jocund wear the vital thread away.
Daughters of virtue, elegance and love;
9
Smile in their smiles, and on their steps attend;
Such blended charms the soul can never pall,
Where all Arcadia mingles with the Mall,
Where courtly grace with rural vigour join'd,
Reigns o'er the heart, and captivates the mind,
Where taste, and dress, and attitude, and air,
With thee, St. James's, may with joy compare,
When birth-night beams with rival radiance vie,
And dazzling diamonds dim the vaquish'd eye,
Where British beauty yields to foreign cost,
And nature, in the borrow'd blaze, is lost;
Salopian Maids (the Muse's happy theme!)
Disdain the rich deceit, the poor extreme,
With native charms, their cheeks alone, shall glow
And to themselves they all their conquests owe,
10
And virtue keeps the lasting colours fair.
Thrice happy Salop, in your daughters crown'd;
Your ruddy sons for manly worth renown'd,
On Severn's banks the breezy balm inhale,
With youthful vigour quaff th'inspiring gale.
By beauty kindled in the pleasing scene
With soul elated, and exalted mien,
They bound exulting by the fair one's side,
The comely consort, or the future bride;
They bound exulting, with unblemish'd glee,
From vile detraction, and from envy free;
With open aspect, and ingenuous air,
To crown the copious bowl, and quaff the fair;
Where mirth, and temperance, and joke, unite,
And frolic candour, and sincere delight
11
And strike the kind contagion to the heart;
By spleen unmix'd, where bright affection cheers,
Where repartees attract, where wit endears;
See sportive sallies with kind force abound,
See horrid faction prostrate on the ground,
With party rancour, and with party pride
Trampled and gasping at its hateful side;
By Salop's sons this pest exploded see,
From her infection, as from slav'ry free,
With freedom, candour and good sense they live,
And every social boon, they take, and give;
In traffick bland their mutual minds display,
And jocund wear the vital thread away.
From yon rich hill, by taste, and bounty crown'd,
The Muse enraptur'd, throws her eyes around,
She looks with transport, on the River down,
The rising Steeples, and the sloping Town;
The miscellaneous views, the prospect wide,
The blue-rob'd, lofty, distant, hills that hide
Among the meeting clouds, their awful heads,
Where fancy triumphs, and where genius treads,
Their fractur'd forms enforc'd by shade, and light,
In pictur'd, aggregated groups unite,
Like Claude's rich canvass where the objects grow,
Or, Titian, thy immortal tints that glow.
Where hills and groves, and seas, and mountains thrive,
And all the breathing picture seems alive.
The grand out-line th'astonish'd mind regales,
See peace and plenty wanton in the vales;
Ten thousand landskips opening to the view,
For ever pleasing and for ever new;
Like courtly beauties on Salopia wait,
To grace her presence and support her state;
Herself a Queen, by nature bid to reign,
Adorn the prospect and command the plain,
With awful sceptre and with reverend air,
For Time hath fix'd a grey regalia there,
By ages stamp'd to strike the learned ken,
A Camden's notice, or a Bowen's pen.
The Muse enraptur'd, throws her eyes around,
12
The rising Steeples, and the sloping Town;
The miscellaneous views, the prospect wide,
The blue-rob'd, lofty, distant, hills that hide
Among the meeting clouds, their awful heads,
Where fancy triumphs, and where genius treads,
Their fractur'd forms enforc'd by shade, and light,
In pictur'd, aggregated groups unite,
Like Claude's rich canvass where the objects grow,
Or, Titian, thy immortal tints that glow.
Where hills and groves, and seas, and mountains thrive,
And all the breathing picture seems alive.
The grand out-line th'astonish'd mind regales,
See peace and plenty wanton in the vales;
Ten thousand landskips opening to the view,
For ever pleasing and for ever new;
13
To grace her presence and support her state;
Herself a Queen, by nature bid to reign,
Adorn the prospect and command the plain,
With awful sceptre and with reverend air,
For Time hath fix'd a grey regalia there,
By ages stamp'd to strike the learned ken,
A Camden's notice, or a Bowen's pen.
What friendly forms in social pomp draw near
(With thankful smiles to bless the bounteous year?)
In glad procession, brotherhood, and bloom,
(Like Flora's festals, near thy walls, oh Rome,)
The bands distinguish'd, yet harmonious, move,
Their ensigns, concord, and their leader, love;
To Kingsland's arbours once a year they go,
In order'd elegance, serene and slow;
The bodies corporate in classes bright,
In different classes, but in one delight;
There blend with mutual hands, the friendly bowls,
There blend their wishes, and there blend their souls;
The yearly Archon over all presides,
Their state he governs, and their joy he guides,
There mixing jovial with each jovial band,
To each his heart he gives, to each his hand;
With each he quaffs th'invigorating cheer,
To friendship sacred and the hallowed year;
There union, brotherhood, and mirth combine,
In ev'ry face these vital virtues shine;
The sun would gladly in his course delay,
And stretch beyond its lengthen'd bound, the day,
To gaze with rapture as each bosom glows,
On these rich blessings which his beam bestows;
His prone career, his cadence they behold,
His western stage in crimson clad and gold,
They see his orb reluctant now go down,
Then march in happy order back to town;
There polish'd pleasures teem with new delight,
There balls and banquets crown the genial night.
(With thankful smiles to bless the bounteous year?)
In glad procession, brotherhood, and bloom,
(Like Flora's festals, near thy walls, oh Rome,)
The bands distinguish'd, yet harmonious, move,
Their ensigns, concord, and their leader, love;
To Kingsland's arbours once a year they go,
In order'd elegance, serene and slow;
14
In different classes, but in one delight;
There blend with mutual hands, the friendly bowls,
There blend their wishes, and there blend their souls;
The yearly Archon over all presides,
Their state he governs, and their joy he guides,
There mixing jovial with each jovial band,
To each his heart he gives, to each his hand;
With each he quaffs th'invigorating cheer,
To friendship sacred and the hallowed year;
There union, brotherhood, and mirth combine,
In ev'ry face these vital virtues shine;
The sun would gladly in his course delay,
And stretch beyond its lengthen'd bound, the day,
To gaze with rapture as each bosom glows,
On these rich blessings which his beam bestows;
15
His western stage in crimson clad and gold,
They see his orb reluctant now go down,
Then march in happy order back to town;
There polish'd pleasures teem with new delight,
There balls and banquets crown the genial night.
Icarian Cadman next invites the Muse,
For who can Cadman's hapless fall refuse;
Ambitious he, for Cadman fain would climb,
The subject sad, and labour of my rhime;
He felt, like Sweden's Charles, the sudden stroke,
His false security beneath him broke.
Surpriz'd in mad, in midway, headlong, flight,
He, like a falling star, athwart the night,
In sloping progress made his swift descent,
Too near the water, not the sun he went.
Take then, oh Cadman, take this long farewell;
You rose like Magus, and like Magus, fell;
Lavish of life you fell, and future fame,
Nor left a river, nor a brook your name;
Yet Salop's sons lament your doom with tears,
Your lot remember'd through a length of years;
Your stone inscrib'd with living verse, shall tell
How high, alas! you soar'd, how low you fell;
Let that your Manes, Cadman, satisfie,
For that alone you should rejoice to die;
The heart humane can human faults forget,
Your fame and fortitude remember'd yet.
For who can Cadman's hapless fall refuse;
Ambitious he, for Cadman fain would climb,
The subject sad, and labour of my rhime;
He felt, like Sweden's Charles, the sudden stroke,
His false security beneath him broke.
Surpriz'd in mad, in midway, headlong, flight,
He, like a falling star, athwart the night,
In sloping progress made his swift descent,
Too near the water, not the sun he went.
16
You rose like Magus, and like Magus, fell;
Lavish of life you fell, and future fame,
Nor left a river, nor a brook your name;
Yet Salop's sons lament your doom with tears,
Your lot remember'd through a length of years;
Your stone inscrib'd with living verse, shall tell
How high, alas! you soar'd, how low you fell;
Let that your Manes, Cadman, satisfie,
For that alone you should rejoice to die;
The heart humane can human faults forget,
Your fame and fortitude remember'd yet.
Yon health restoring pile
the Muse commands,
Where Charity extends her thousand hands;
Each earth-born want with heav'nly aid supplies,
Grace in her looks, and cordials in her eyes,
Herself an Angel near the sick man's bed,
Allays his anguish, and uplifts his head;
From his sad pillow steals the thorn away,
Bids peace return, and comfort round him play;
Here healing dews each inward pang can find,
The body's balm, and manna of the mind;
To sooth the groaning throb, the heart-sick hour,
From mercy's cup descends the heav'n-sent show'r
With bounty flowing o'er, by Angels shed,
The sick man's med'cine, and the poor man's bread;
The lame here leap by human aid divine,
Here to the blind the genial ray shall shine;
The one shall bound, the one rejoic'd, shall see;
Here cures, like miracles, applauded be;
Religion here, of nature takes the start,
Prevents the Leech, anticipates his art,
With energy divine the pang removes,
And mingles with the hallow'd work she loves;
In human form from couch to couch she goes,
To sooth affliction and to soften woes;
With aspect meek her high behest to show,
As God's vice-gerent in this vale below;
To rescue Man, all human ills to brave,
For next to giving life, is life to save.
Oh glorious pile! by christian virtues rais'd,
By wisdom honour'd, and by prudence prais'd,
By Britain copy'd with ambitious hand,
Thou pride, delight, and pattern of the land;
Where all the virtues in one group combine,
Where piety and grace for ever shine,
Where faith and hope still hover with delight,
And godlike Charity enjoys the sight;
The Muse to latest times would mark thy fame,
And graft her Laurel on Salopia's name.
Where Charity extends her thousand hands;
Each earth-born want with heav'nly aid supplies,
Grace in her looks, and cordials in her eyes,
17
Allays his anguish, and uplifts his head;
From his sad pillow steals the thorn away,
Bids peace return, and comfort round him play;
Here healing dews each inward pang can find,
The body's balm, and manna of the mind;
To sooth the groaning throb, the heart-sick hour,
From mercy's cup descends the heav'n-sent show'r
With bounty flowing o'er, by Angels shed,
The sick man's med'cine, and the poor man's bread;
The lame here leap by human aid divine,
Here to the blind the genial ray shall shine;
The one shall bound, the one rejoic'd, shall see;
Here cures, like miracles, applauded be;
Religion here, of nature takes the start,
Prevents the Leech, anticipates his art,
18
And mingles with the hallow'd work she loves;
In human form from couch to couch she goes,
To sooth affliction and to soften woes;
With aspect meek her high behest to show,
As God's vice-gerent in this vale below;
To rescue Man, all human ills to brave,
For next to giving life, is life to save.
Oh glorious pile! by christian virtues rais'd,
By wisdom honour'd, and by prudence prais'd,
By Britain copy'd with ambitious hand,
Thou pride, delight, and pattern of the land;
Where all the virtues in one group combine,
Where piety and grace for ever shine,
Where faith and hope still hover with delight,
And godlike Charity enjoys the sight;
19
And graft her Laurel on Salopia's name.
Here see the model of a work design'd
To grace proportion, and amaze the mind,
In miniature the mighty task behold,
Like infant Hercules, supreme, and bold;
This proud epitome by genius crown'd,
Magnificence in little oft is found:
The arch pontific, and capacious space,
The symmetry sublime, the princely grace,
The future Bridge so broad, so long, so high,
In this contracted form, shall fill the eye;
The tasteful eye the frame adult shall scan,
As oft the child anticipates the man;
Th'august Idea on the fancy dwells,
The arch grows prouder, and the pillar swells;
The Muse shall faster than the Mason toil,
Her numbers shall at once complete the pile;
Another Westminster the structure stands,
See Severn's floods exulting clap their hands;
Their smiling banks with rushing joy run o'er,
The sounds reverberate from shore to shore;
The stream triumphant bears the news along,
While distant ocean echoes to the song;
There Neptune on his car shall joyful own
This far-sent tribute to his British throne;
Ye Patriots listen to the Poet's lyre,
The Poet's strains should Patriot-deeds inspire;
To virtue consecrate her moral lay,
And public worth and public love repay
In verse that should with Pope or Milton vie,
Verse that should live 'till nature's self shall die.
Thou, Astley, foremost in the Phalanx, shine,
Thou first creator of the work divine;
Thy patriot soul the vast idea wrought,
And form'd the scheme immense within thy thought;
The Muse's thanks be thine, and thine her praise,
For, what thy heart conceiv'd, thy hand shall raise;
Thy heart, and hand, among the great, and good,
Shall consecrate thy fame, and crown the flood;
Such souls as thine, above corruption's hand,
The pride and pillars of their native land,
Whose deeds inculcate each illustrious hour
The use of riches, and the use of power;
Who sanctify these gifts, by giving more
To worth well weigh'd, to merit, and the poor;
Their blooming laurels shall through life grow green,
And flourish most when death hath clos'd the scene.
To grace proportion, and amaze the mind,
In miniature the mighty task behold,
Like infant Hercules, supreme, and bold;
This proud epitome by genius crown'd,
Magnificence in little oft is found:
The arch pontific, and capacious space,
The symmetry sublime, the princely grace,
The future Bridge so broad, so long, so high,
In this contracted form, shall fill the eye;
The tasteful eye the frame adult shall scan,
As oft the child anticipates the man;
Th'august Idea on the fancy dwells,
The arch grows prouder, and the pillar swells;
20
Her numbers shall at once complete the pile;
Another Westminster the structure stands,
See Severn's floods exulting clap their hands;
Their smiling banks with rushing joy run o'er,
The sounds reverberate from shore to shore;
The stream triumphant bears the news along,
While distant ocean echoes to the song;
There Neptune on his car shall joyful own
This far-sent tribute to his British throne;
Ye Patriots listen to the Poet's lyre,
The Poet's strains should Patriot-deeds inspire;
To virtue consecrate her moral lay,
And public worth and public love repay
In verse that should with Pope or Milton vie,
Verse that should live 'till nature's self shall die.
21
Thou first creator of the work divine;
Thy patriot soul the vast idea wrought,
And form'd the scheme immense within thy thought;
The Muse's thanks be thine, and thine her praise,
For, what thy heart conceiv'd, thy hand shall raise;
Thy heart, and hand, among the great, and good,
Shall consecrate thy fame, and crown the flood;
Such souls as thine, above corruption's hand,
The pride and pillars of their native land,
Whose deeds inculcate each illustrious hour
The use of riches, and the use of power;
Who sanctify these gifts, by giving more
To worth well weigh'd, to merit, and the poor;
Their blooming laurels shall through life grow green,
And flourish most when death hath clos'd the scene.
22
Let Clive, exalted by his virtue, stand
Distinguish'd; Clive, who open'd wide his hand;
With giving heart, and kind congenial smile,
He bade his Indian treasures raise the pile;
Treasures dear bought, the price of health, and blood,
Yet cheaply purchas'd for his Country's good;
To her high worth he consecrates his gains,
His wealth shall circulate through all her veins,
His flowing gold shall warm her vig'rous heart,
And health and plenty visit ev'ry part;
The genial stream shall make each virtue rise,
And lift his laurel to the bending skies;
His patriot deeds shall cancel Britian's crimes,
Avert the thunder, and redeem the times;
His public worth shall public vice atone,
Who makes the welfare of mankind his own;
His wealth unenvy'd, and his worth approv'd,
By Britain honour'd, and by Britain lov'd;
Lo! time shall hand his merits down to fame,
And grave on virtue's adamant his name.
Distinguish'd; Clive, who open'd wide his hand;
With giving heart, and kind congenial smile,
He bade his Indian treasures raise the pile;
Treasures dear bought, the price of health, and blood,
Yet cheaply purchas'd for his Country's good;
To her high worth he consecrates his gains,
His wealth shall circulate through all her veins,
His flowing gold shall warm her vig'rous heart,
And health and plenty visit ev'ry part;
The genial stream shall make each virtue rise,
And lift his laurel to the bending skies;
His patriot deeds shall cancel Britian's crimes,
Avert the thunder, and redeem the times;
His public worth shall public vice atone,
Who makes the welfare of mankind his own;
23
By Britain honour'd, and by Britain lov'd;
Lo! time shall hand his merits down to fame,
And grave on virtue's adamant his name.
Let Salop's ruling Sons of fair renown,
(The fathers too, and guardians of the town,)
Enjoy the rich donation they bestow,
And o'er the arch they rais'd, exulting go,
With inward pleasure view the pompous pile,
That decks the Severn, and adorns the isle:
Let Shrewsbury count her fair increasing store,
And proudly triumph in one beauty more.
With numerous worthies, tedious now to name,
(Warm candidates of worth, and virtuous fame;)
Whose bounty rushing to the grand design,
In smaller rivulets illustrious shine;
Resulting to the fountains whence they flow,
Such bounteous hearts enjoy what they bestow;
The Muse, her off'rings to such shrines shall pay,
And dedicate to them, the gen'ral lay.
(The fathers too, and guardians of the town,)
Enjoy the rich donation they bestow,
And o'er the arch they rais'd, exulting go,
With inward pleasure view the pompous pile,
That decks the Severn, and adorns the isle:
Let Shrewsbury count her fair increasing store,
And proudly triumph in one beauty more.
With numerous worthies, tedious now to name,
(Warm candidates of worth, and virtuous fame;)
Whose bounty rushing to the grand design,
In smaller rivulets illustrious shine;
24
Such bounteous hearts enjoy what they bestow;
The Muse, her off'rings to such shrines shall pay,
And dedicate to them, the gen'ral lay.
To Letters next, the Muse glad tunes her lyre,
The sacred subject shall the song inspire;
In yonder awful dome , lo! learning dwells,
There fills with sapient sweets her fragrant cells;
There cultivates her purest classic store,
With Xenophonian honey rich run o'er.
Offspring of Cadmus! Letters! sent from heav'n!
The greatest gift to human nature given.
Your wreaths, through ev'ry age shall greener grow,
To you the Latian, Attic wits, we owe,
That Britain's Bards with Greece and Rome can cope,
To you a Milton and to you a Pope;
A Locke to you, a Newton's heav'nly toil,
To you a Bacon, and to you a Boyle;
To you, that Man above the Brute should shine
We owe; blest Learning! heav'nly ray benign!
Intuitive of virtue, wisdom, love,
Conversing, like the sons of morn above,
Without organic aids, or sounds that die,
Where all the soul is furnish'd from the eye;
Where mystic forms, by compact understood,
Discourse in silence, with the wise and good;
With eloquence all mute, subdue the soul,
And send the dumb behest from pole to pole.
There youth to Roman excellence arise,
At once made virtuous, and at once made wise;
Not Greek and Latin Words alone, they gain,
But all the treasures that these tongues contain
Are pour'd like light upon the youthful mind,
There Homer's flame with Tully's truths is join'd;
Instruction there in ev'ry shape shall shine,
Historic lore, and lectures all divine,
In supernumerary show'rs they share,
In kind paternal Episodes of care;
With moral dictates and with manners fraught
There rules of elocution rich are taught;
There youth are train'd to wage the vocal war,
To shake the senate, or exalt the bar;
To speak with purity, or write with ease,
And from the sacred pulpit strike, and please;
There list th'affections up, exalt the will
Thro' Learning's nurture, and thro' Newling's skill.
The sacred subject shall the song inspire;
In yonder awful dome , lo! learning dwells,
There fills with sapient sweets her fragrant cells;
There cultivates her purest classic store,
With Xenophonian honey rich run o'er.
Offspring of Cadmus! Letters! sent from heav'n!
The greatest gift to human nature given.
Your wreaths, through ev'ry age shall greener grow,
To you the Latian, Attic wits, we owe,
That Britain's Bards with Greece and Rome can cope,
To you a Milton and to you a Pope;
25
To you a Bacon, and to you a Boyle;
To you, that Man above the Brute should shine
We owe; blest Learning! heav'nly ray benign!
Intuitive of virtue, wisdom, love,
Conversing, like the sons of morn above,
Without organic aids, or sounds that die,
Where all the soul is furnish'd from the eye;
Where mystic forms, by compact understood,
Discourse in silence, with the wise and good;
With eloquence all mute, subdue the soul,
And send the dumb behest from pole to pole.
There youth to Roman excellence arise,
At once made virtuous, and at once made wise;
Not Greek and Latin Words alone, they gain,
But all the treasures that these tongues contain
26
There Homer's flame with Tully's truths is join'd;
Instruction there in ev'ry shape shall shine,
Historic lore, and lectures all divine,
In supernumerary show'rs they share,
In kind paternal Episodes of care;
With moral dictates and with manners fraught
There rules of elocution rich are taught;
There youth are train'd to wage the vocal war,
To shake the senate, or exalt the bar;
To speak with purity, or write with ease,
And from the sacred pulpit strike, and please;
There list th'affections up, exalt the will
Thro' Learning's nurture, and thro' Newling's skill.
To Castle Mount the Muse now wings her flight,
The copious mount, that platform of delight,
From whose high battlements, sublime, and bold,
Th'extatic eye can endless charms behold;
There nature's vast unbounded beauties cheer,
For all her beauties are exhausted there;
Such noble forms the head and heart assail,
The feast of sense, and reason's rich regale;
In vast variety and Epic taste,
By circling hills, and bending skies embrac'd,
O'erwhelm the mind, magnificent opprest,
'Till here, and there, she learns at length to rest;
Then pausing, breaths, by wonder fix'd, and joy;
Successive wonders still the soul employ,
Where blending beauties, with new beauties meet,
See Severn gliding at the gazer's feet,
With bending progress, and with sweet-delay,
She forms the line of beauty in her way;
Her arms meand'ring round the wall she throws,
Reluctant, mournful, murmuring, she goes,
As loth to leave Salopia's princely side,
Her crown, her pleasure, and distinguish'd pride;
Nature, for her, first struck the teeming hill,
And time for her, brought forth the rushing rill;
For her the vallies, and the banks bend low,
And make for her the willing streams to flow;
A thousand springs from rocks and mountains fall
To swell exulting round Salopia's wall,
With tardy scope they quit th'attractive plain,
Defraud the floods, and rob th'expecting main.
The copious mount, that platform of delight,
27
Th'extatic eye can endless charms behold;
There nature's vast unbounded beauties cheer,
For all her beauties are exhausted there;
Such noble forms the head and heart assail,
The feast of sense, and reason's rich regale;
In vast variety and Epic taste,
By circling hills, and bending skies embrac'd,
O'erwhelm the mind, magnificent opprest,
'Till here, and there, she learns at length to rest;
Then pausing, breaths, by wonder fix'd, and joy;
Successive wonders still the soul employ,
Where blending beauties, with new beauties meet,
See Severn gliding at the gazer's feet,
With bending progress, and with sweet-delay,
She forms the line of beauty in her way;
28
Reluctant, mournful, murmuring, she goes,
As loth to leave Salopia's princely side,
Her crown, her pleasure, and distinguish'd pride;
Nature, for her, first struck the teeming hill,
And time for her, brought forth the rushing rill;
For her the vallies, and the banks bend low,
And make for her the willing streams to flow;
A thousand springs from rocks and mountains fall
To swell exulting round Salopia's wall,
With tardy scope they quit th'attractive plain,
Defraud the floods, and rob th'expecting main.
Lo! yonder distant hills in rude array,
A noble, warlike, Theatre display,
That rises hostile with a frown severe,
There mighty Rome herself, was taught to fear;
Historic hands th'important scene shall draw,
There truth shall testify, there time shall awe.
Tall Caradoc, that yonder rears the head,
There once the Romans, once the Britons bled;
For life, the masters of the world, there fought,
And then, thought life itself too dearly bought;
Then rocks and torrents down the mountain roar,
For Nature groan'd, when Freedom was no more.
Caractacus in chains could Claudius awe,
And British virtue reign o'er Roman law;
The tyrant trembled on the world's vast throne,
To freedom's stronger sceptre stoop'd his own.
Still awful marks on Caradoc abound,
There annual off'rings grace the hallow'd ground;
There Britons once a year, glad Britons, greet,
There with the summer on the hills they meet;
The rich libation there abroad they pour,
The rural banquet crowns the reverend hour;
The patriot Orator performs his part,
And strikes the glorious topic to the heart;
Each British virtue there is rais'd on high,
For Freedom fix'd to live, for Freedom die.
A noble, warlike, Theatre display,
That rises hostile with a frown severe,
There mighty Rome herself, was taught to fear;
29
There truth shall testify, there time shall awe.
Tall Caradoc, that yonder rears the head,
There once the Romans, once the Britons bled;
For life, the masters of the world, there fought,
And then, thought life itself too dearly bought;
Then rocks and torrents down the mountain roar,
For Nature groan'd, when Freedom was no more.
Caractacus in chains could Claudius awe,
And British virtue reign o'er Roman law;
The tyrant trembled on the world's vast throne,
To freedom's stronger sceptre stoop'd his own.
Still awful marks on Caradoc abound,
There annual off'rings grace the hallow'd ground;
There Britons once a year, glad Britons, greet,
There with the summer on the hills they meet;
30
The rural banquet crowns the reverend hour;
The patriot Orator performs his part,
And strikes the glorious topic to the heart;
Each British virtue there is rais'd on high,
For Freedom fix'd to live, for Freedom die.
Thence to the Wrekin high, o'er hill, o'er dale,
The raptur'd Muse on various wings shall sail;
A thousand beauties in her way she views,
The Wrekin now demands the raptur'd Muse;
Eye-filling object that employs the bowl,
The feast of frolick, and the whim of soul,
Thy copious circle has been long the boast
Of jovial fervour, and the friendly toast;
All round the Wrekin shall for ever pass,
All round the Wrekin fills the midnight glass.
Sure Bacchus on thy brow should plant the vine,
And groves of fattest olives should be thine;
The orange on thy sides should swelling grow,
Nay, punch and claret from thy springs should flow.
Tho' that, alas! thy steril rocks deny,
Thy forms refresh the Bacchanalian eye;
Thy bluish bulk the large potation tells,
That like a belly'd bottle to the fancy swells.
The raptur'd Muse on various wings shall sail;
A thousand beauties in her way she views,
The Wrekin now demands the raptur'd Muse;
Eye-filling object that employs the bowl,
The feast of frolick, and the whim of soul,
Thy copious circle has been long the boast
Of jovial fervour, and the friendly toast;
All round the Wrekin shall for ever pass,
All round the Wrekin fills the midnight glass.
31
And groves of fattest olives should be thine;
The orange on thy sides should swelling grow,
Nay, punch and claret from thy springs should flow.
Tho' that, alas! thy steril rocks deny,
Thy forms refresh the Bacchanalian eye;
Thy bluish bulk the large potation tells,
That like a belly'd bottle to the fancy swells.
Thee, Haughmond hill, which contemplation loves,
Thy mournful Abbey, and thy weeping Groves,
The Muse shall visit as she glides along,
And for a moment moralize her song.
These sacred walls, (by time's o'erturning stroke,
Religious rage, or hostile fury broke)
An awful lecture read to ev'ry eye,
That All, alas! beneath th'expanded sky,
That marble, brass, and adamant must fade,
That all that nature, all that art hath made
Shall melt like dew-drops, or the snow long past,
While virtue only shall the world out-last.
Let not the checquer'd thought our peace annoy,
The present dash, or damp the future joy;
Reason can banquet on the mournful view,
Enjoy the Mountain and the Abbey too;
Religion thence, shall gather true delight,
The page of life, alas! is black, and white;
Who reads it best will form this manly scope,
Enjoy the present and the future hope;
Since Worlds, like atoms, shall be all forgot,
Why then should we lament our destin'd lot?
Thy mournful Abbey, and thy weeping Groves,
The Muse shall visit as she glides along,
And for a moment moralize her song.
These sacred walls, (by time's o'erturning stroke,
Religious rage, or hostile fury broke)
An awful lecture read to ev'ry eye,
That All, alas! beneath th'expanded sky,
32
That all that nature, all that art hath made
Shall melt like dew-drops, or the snow long past,
While virtue only shall the world out-last.
Let not the checquer'd thought our peace annoy,
The present dash, or damp the future joy;
Reason can banquet on the mournful view,
Enjoy the Mountain and the Abbey too;
Religion thence, shall gather true delight,
The page of life, alas! is black, and white;
Who reads it best will form this manly scope,
Enjoy the present and the future hope;
Since Worlds, like atoms, shall be all forgot,
Why then should we lament our destin'd lot?
From moral, now, to martial strains we fly,
There Battle-field assaults the Muse's eye,
That scene of England's boast, and England's blame,
Her tarnish'd glory, and illustrious shame;
Where civil discord, dy'd in brother's blood,
With horrid trophies on the mountain stood;
Where Britain wrung her hands, with streaming eye,
And saw her children, by her children, die.
The Muse with horror on the scene must dwell,
There Henry vanquish'd, and there Hotspur fell;
There murder, sanctify'd by civil rage,
Degrades at once and desecrates the age;
Victorious Henry wash'd his hands from gore,
His claim establish'd, and his crimes no more;
Strong fortune's arm sustain'd his feeble right,
He ever reasons best, who best can fight;
Conquest decrees the doubtful claim with pride,
For truth is ever on the victor's side;
On conquest then his crimson claim he built,
In glory's ray his sanguine wreath he gilt,
Heedless what conscience of his crimes might say,
A Church he rear'd to wipe those crimes away;
That Witness, yet, of death and horror reigns,
To mark the bosom of yon bloody plains.
Ill fated Hotspur in the dreadful strife,
With loss of laurels, and with loss of life,
A victim to his whirlwind fury fell,
The Muse reluctant must his story tell;
Behold his butcher'd, once fear'd, sad remains,
(Like Hector's, dragg'd upon the Trojan plains,)
Ingorge the victor by his vengeance fed,
Oh, savage vengeance, o'er th'illustrious dead!
Vindictive, steril, and indignant shame,
Oh, brand for ever the fierce victor's name,
And blot his annals from the rolls of fame.
Inter'd at Salop
, and at Salop rais'd,
Where honour shrunk, and justice stood amaz'd;
The mangled body brought again to light,
Detested object and inglorious sight;
By hot revenge held forth, to scorn's cold eye,
Between two Mill-stones was condemn'd to lie;
'Till greedy vengeance gorg'd, had got her fill,
Who massacred what she no more could kill;
Dissever'd by an ignomin'ous hand,
The head and limbs were scatter'd o'er the land;
Which shows, oh civil rage, thy hell-dipp'd stain,
With all the horrors of a Gothic reign.
Hail, Classic Concord! with good breeding giv'n,
Hail, Decency! thou second born of Heav'n!
In thy contour alone, thy soft outline
The virtues all, like moral mimics, shine,
Put on the shapes of what they ought to be;
Like Actors, Decency! they strike in thee.
Far hence, thou fiend accurs'd, to deepest hell,
Beneath its bottom bound, for ever dwell,
Its lowest bottom, bane of joy and life,
Thou source of discord and of deadly strife;
No more o'er Britain's bosom shake thy brand,
Nor pour thy Hemlock-poisons through the land;
Atrocious Civil War, there ever lie,
Nor wound Religion's heart, nor Reason's eye;
No more the Father, Brother, Son, embroil,
Nor with thy kindred furies curse the isle;
In dark oblivion's den for ever stay,
And exercise o'er fiends thy shackl'd sway;
The social heart no more with faction fill,
No more the blood of blameless thousands spill,
By thy infernal agency misled,
Oh, hide in everlasting night thy head;
Let peace prevail, and plenty swell her store,
Let Britain bloom till time shall be no more.
There Battle-field assaults the Muse's eye,
33
Her tarnish'd glory, and illustrious shame;
Where civil discord, dy'd in brother's blood,
With horrid trophies on the mountain stood;
Where Britain wrung her hands, with streaming eye,
And saw her children, by her children, die.
The Muse with horror on the scene must dwell,
There Henry vanquish'd, and there Hotspur fell;
There murder, sanctify'd by civil rage,
Degrades at once and desecrates the age;
Victorious Henry wash'd his hands from gore,
His claim establish'd, and his crimes no more;
Strong fortune's arm sustain'd his feeble right,
He ever reasons best, who best can fight;
Conquest decrees the doubtful claim with pride,
For truth is ever on the victor's side;
34
In glory's ray his sanguine wreath he gilt,
Heedless what conscience of his crimes might say,
A Church he rear'd to wipe those crimes away;
That Witness, yet, of death and horror reigns,
To mark the bosom of yon bloody plains.
Ill fated Hotspur in the dreadful strife,
With loss of laurels, and with loss of life,
A victim to his whirlwind fury fell,
The Muse reluctant must his story tell;
Behold his butcher'd, once fear'd, sad remains,
(Like Hector's, dragg'd upon the Trojan plains,)
Ingorge the victor by his vengeance fed,
Oh, savage vengeance, o'er th'illustrious dead!
Vindictive, steril, and indignant shame,
Oh, brand for ever the fierce victor's name,
And blot his annals from the rolls of fame.
35
Where honour shrunk, and justice stood amaz'd;
The mangled body brought again to light,
Detested object and inglorious sight;
By hot revenge held forth, to scorn's cold eye,
Between two Mill-stones was condemn'd to lie;
'Till greedy vengeance gorg'd, had got her fill,
Who massacred what she no more could kill;
Dissever'd by an ignomin'ous hand,
The head and limbs were scatter'd o'er the land;
36
With all the horrors of a Gothic reign.
Hail, Classic Concord! with good breeding giv'n,
Hail, Decency! thou second born of Heav'n!
In thy contour alone, thy soft outline
The virtues all, like moral mimics, shine,
Put on the shapes of what they ought to be;
Like Actors, Decency! they strike in thee.
Far hence, thou fiend accurs'd, to deepest hell,
Beneath its bottom bound, for ever dwell,
Its lowest bottom, bane of joy and life,
Thou source of discord and of deadly strife;
No more o'er Britain's bosom shake thy brand,
Nor pour thy Hemlock-poisons through the land;
Atrocious Civil War, there ever lie,
Nor wound Religion's heart, nor Reason's eye;
37
Nor with thy kindred furies curse the isle;
In dark oblivion's den for ever stay,
And exercise o'er fiends thy shackl'd sway;
The social heart no more with faction fill,
No more the blood of blameless thousands spill,
By thy infernal agency misled,
Oh, hide in everlasting night thy head;
Let peace prevail, and plenty swell her store,
Let Britain bloom till time shall be no more.
Lo! Clio now, the blooming olive brings,
On Berwick's beauteous top she rests her wings;
Surveys the building, and the prospects round,
The bluish Cambrian hills, and distant ground;
The gardens, and the gates, the chappel, groves,
(For these are ornaments that Clio loves)
By nature and by art so sweet laid down,
By taste accomplish'd, and so near the town;
Reflect with rich reverberating rays,
To Salop pleasure, and to Powis praise.
On Berwick's beauteous top she rests her wings;
Surveys the building, and the prospects round,
The bluish Cambrian hills, and distant ground;
The gardens, and the gates, the chappel, groves,
(For these are ornaments that Clio loves)
38
By taste accomplish'd, and so near the town;
Reflect with rich reverberating rays,
To Salop pleasure, and to Powis praise.
The Muse to Shrewsbury comes back with joy,
Let Shrewsbury once more the Muse employ;
See health and vigour animate each street,
With grasping hands, and friendly smiles they meet;
Unfeigned friendship (scorning court disguise)
Lives in their looks, and kindles in their eyes;
Integrity ties fast the mutual band,
Exalts the bosom, and attracts the hand;
There taste, its happy talent oft imparts,
There judgment loves, and genius lifts the arts;
The Theatre this brilliant truth displays,
Where merit meets reward, and meets with praise;
These wings of worth that waft it far on high,
And lift up moral merit to the sky;
The pencil there with happy genius glows,
And all the painter in each picture shows;
The living scenes attract the tasteful sight,
With all the magic force of shade and light;
From theme to theme the soft transition slides,
Where fancy dictates, and where judgment guides;
The strong illusions there would nature brave,
There waters seem to flow, there woods to wave;
The rocks to swell, the pregnant clouds to rise,
And flowing gold adorn the distant skies;
With animating force the mind to raise,
Give merit pure applause, and genius praise;
Such liberal minds should yield to merit joy,
Its worth distinguish, and its hand employ;
The public bounty on desert bestow,
And pay to taste what they to patrons owe.
With mutual office give each other laws,
Command the Critic's, and the Town's applause.
Let Shrewsbury once more the Muse employ;
See health and vigour animate each street,
With grasping hands, and friendly smiles they meet;
Unfeigned friendship (scorning court disguise)
Lives in their looks, and kindles in their eyes;
Integrity ties fast the mutual band,
Exalts the bosom, and attracts the hand;
There taste, its happy talent oft imparts,
There judgment loves, and genius lifts the arts;
The Theatre this brilliant truth displays,
Where merit meets reward, and meets with praise;
39
And lift up moral merit to the sky;
The pencil there with happy genius glows,
And all the painter in each picture shows;
The living scenes attract the tasteful sight,
With all the magic force of shade and light;
From theme to theme the soft transition slides,
Where fancy dictates, and where judgment guides;
The strong illusions there would nature brave,
There waters seem to flow, there woods to wave;
The rocks to swell, the pregnant clouds to rise,
And flowing gold adorn the distant skies;
With animating force the mind to raise,
Give merit pure applause, and genius praise;
Such liberal minds should yield to merit joy,
Its worth distinguish, and its hand employ;
40
And pay to taste what they to patrons owe.
With mutual office give each other laws,
Command the Critic's, and the Town's applause.
To Quarry back the raptur'd Muse would run,
And end her pleasing tour where she begun;
The river, walks, afford a new delight,
And youth and beauty rush upon her sight:
Concenter'd here in narrow space, is found
The essence rich of her laborious round,
This casket small each varying gem contains,
That shines upon the distant hills and plains;
This focus full engrosses every ray
That gilds the mountain, and augments the day,
That decks the palace top, the vales and floods,
That, dancing, glitters on the waves, and woods;
Hail happy scene! increase, and flourish long,
Thou theme select, thou subject of my song;
Thou treasur'd miniature of taste and joy,
Some nobler Muse's lofty lyre employ
To sing thy perfect scenes with equal strain,
And plant her Laurel on thy lovely plain;
By time improv'd, thy charms shall greener grow,
And Severn swelling to her banks shall flow;
While health and pleasure on her bosom sail,
And Music's magic notes enchant the gale;
While love and beauty in each bark rejoice,
And to the concert add the charming voice;
The soul, assail'd by such serene allies,
Must melt a victim to the ears, and eyes;
These inlets soft each mental pow'r disarm,
By Music's transport and by beauty's charm.
And end her pleasing tour where she begun;
The river, walks, afford a new delight,
And youth and beauty rush upon her sight:
Concenter'd here in narrow space, is found
The essence rich of her laborious round,
This casket small each varying gem contains,
That shines upon the distant hills and plains;
This focus full engrosses every ray
That gilds the mountain, and augments the day,
That decks the palace top, the vales and floods,
That, dancing, glitters on the waves, and woods;
41
Thou theme select, thou subject of my song;
Thou treasur'd miniature of taste and joy,
Some nobler Muse's lofty lyre employ
To sing thy perfect scenes with equal strain,
And plant her Laurel on thy lovely plain;
By time improv'd, thy charms shall greener grow,
And Severn swelling to her banks shall flow;
While health and pleasure on her bosom sail,
And Music's magic notes enchant the gale;
While love and beauty in each bark rejoice,
And to the concert add the charming voice;
The soul, assail'd by such serene allies,
Must melt a victim to the ears, and eyes;
These inlets soft each mental pow'r disarm,
By Music's transport and by beauty's charm.
42
Sabrina from her distant source, see rise
With hands uplifted, and with lifted eyes;
Her humid tresses deck'd with pearly sheen,
Lo! in the wind wide waves her Banner green;
High on the bank above the swelling tide,
(Her coral coach obsequious at her side)
The Goddess moves, the hills ambitious vie
In Flora's richest robe to feast her eye;
The laughing vales salute her raptur'd sight,
All nature now puts on supreme delight;
Her robe embroider'd, like the watry bow,
While all the seasons on its surface glow;
In all the colours nature's bounty yields,
To deck the gardens, and adorn the fields;
Th'exulting Goddess views her winding shores,
And far and near the fertile scene explores,
Where peace and plenty, walking hand in hand,
Enrich the river, and adorn the land:
Lo! golden Ceres crowns the teeming plain,
Where war, through ages, held his iron reign;
Detested war, and discord's deadly spear,
That robb'd the seasons, and defac'd the year;
That shed with savage fury, British blood,
And mingled murder with Sabrina's flood.
The Goddess clapp'd her hands, and rais'd her voice,
(The hills and vallies all around rejoice)
“Thrice happy times! I hear thy yells no more
“Beat back my billows, and affright my shore;
“Detested discord, born of Death and Hell,
“With human gore that made my currents swell;
“That choak'd my streams with mountains of the slain
“That, labouring, bore the tidings to the main;
“The bloody tidings of destructive war,
“When Neptune started on his shining Car;
“See commerce now upon my bosom ride,
“With soft security, and easy pride;
“The shipman, listless, as he glides along,
“Beguiles the moments with a rustic song;
“Or counts upon my banks the blameless sheep,
“Or by my murmurs lull'd serene to sleep;
“To my smooth stream consigns his utmost care,
“No hostile images his dreams can scare;
“No robber rushing from the fort he fears,
“The frightful forts, demolish'd now by years;
“They feel by slow degrees, the gen'ral stroke,
“The Castle crumbled, and the Fortress broke;
“In fractur'd forms, long narrative, shall last
“The guilty monuments of ages past,
“To latest times their moss-grown sides shall stand,
“By mischief mark'd, and desolation's hand;
“By civil ruin wrapt in dread array,
“The pride and glory of the present day;
“Each blooming trophy peace around her calls,
“She plants her olives on the shatter'd walls,
“By Ivy covered o'r, the guilt to hide
“Of savage fury, and of savage pride;
“Lo! time his mantle, o'er such mischief throws,
“His venerable mantle faster grows,
“To skreen the hideous marks of civil woes.
With hands uplifted, and with lifted eyes;
Her humid tresses deck'd with pearly sheen,
Lo! in the wind wide waves her Banner green;
High on the bank above the swelling tide,
(Her coral coach obsequious at her side)
The Goddess moves, the hills ambitious vie
In Flora's richest robe to feast her eye;
The laughing vales salute her raptur'd sight,
All nature now puts on supreme delight;
Her robe embroider'd, like the watry bow,
While all the seasons on its surface glow;
In all the colours nature's bounty yields,
To deck the gardens, and adorn the fields;
Th'exulting Goddess views her winding shores,
And far and near the fertile scene explores,
43
Enrich the river, and adorn the land:
Lo! golden Ceres crowns the teeming plain,
Where war, through ages, held his iron reign;
Detested war, and discord's deadly spear,
That robb'd the seasons, and defac'd the year;
That shed with savage fury, British blood,
And mingled murder with Sabrina's flood.
The Goddess clapp'd her hands, and rais'd her voice,
(The hills and vallies all around rejoice)
“Thrice happy times! I hear thy yells no more
“Beat back my billows, and affright my shore;
“Detested discord, born of Death and Hell,
“With human gore that made my currents swell;
“That choak'd my streams with mountains of the slain
“That, labouring, bore the tidings to the main;
44
“When Neptune started on his shining Car;
“See commerce now upon my bosom ride,
“With soft security, and easy pride;
“The shipman, listless, as he glides along,
“Beguiles the moments with a rustic song;
“Or counts upon my banks the blameless sheep,
“Or by my murmurs lull'd serene to sleep;
“To my smooth stream consigns his utmost care,
“No hostile images his dreams can scare;
“No robber rushing from the fort he fears,
“The frightful forts, demolish'd now by years;
“They feel by slow degrees, the gen'ral stroke,
“The Castle crumbled, and the Fortress broke;
“In fractur'd forms, long narrative, shall last
“The guilty monuments of ages past,
45
“By mischief mark'd, and desolation's hand;
“By civil ruin wrapt in dread array,
“The pride and glory of the present day;
“Each blooming trophy peace around her calls,
“She plants her olives on the shatter'd walls,
“By Ivy covered o'r, the guilt to hide
“Of savage fury, and of savage pride;
“Lo! time his mantle, o'er such mischief throws,
“His venerable mantle faster grows,
“To skreen the hideous marks of civil woes.
“But hence thou horrid theme, Sabrina said,
“With arms extended, and exalted head;
“A paradise in prospect long appears,
“While concord on his wings shall waft the years;
“Through ages far remote I joyful see,
“How virtue, wisdom, and the arts agree;
“How faith exalted lifts her Angel-head,
“By truth supported, and by reason led;
“Her gentle sceptre o'er the World shall sway,
“And teach rebellious Nature to obey;
“Faction disarm'd, shall listen to her lore,
“And Discord chain'd, shall tear the World no more;
“The peaceful Laurel shall the Land adorn
“In future Popes, and Stanhopes yet unborn;
“Painting shall stretch abroad her palm divine,
“And other Wests and British Raphaels shine;
“A thousand years I see of pure delight,
“Lo! all Millennium rushes on my sight,
“Salopia there distinguish'd high I see
“By partial Nature doubly bless'd, and Me.”
“With arms extended, and exalted head;
“A paradise in prospect long appears,
“While concord on his wings shall waft the years;
46
“How virtue, wisdom, and the arts agree;
“How faith exalted lifts her Angel-head,
“By truth supported, and by reason led;
“Her gentle sceptre o'er the World shall sway,
“And teach rebellious Nature to obey;
“Faction disarm'd, shall listen to her lore,
“And Discord chain'd, shall tear the World no more;
“The peaceful Laurel shall the Land adorn
“In future Popes, and Stanhopes yet unborn;
“Painting shall stretch abroad her palm divine,
“And other Wests and British Raphaels shine;
“A thousand years I see of pure delight,
“Lo! all Millennium rushes on my sight,
“Salopia there distinguish'd high I see
“By partial Nature doubly bless'd, and Me.”
47
The Goddess spoke as on the bank she stood,
Then plung'd triumphant in th'embracing flood;
Self mov'd, her chariot on the surface goes,
Serene the Goddess on her chariot rose;
The river Nymphs obsequious round her stood,
And polish'd with their smiles the chrystal flood;
Lo! Salop's Spires now glitter in the deep,
Now nature's inmost soul is lull'd to sleep;
Sabrina now illustrious from afar
Descended gently like the morning star,
And at the Quarry reign'd her radiant Car.
Then plung'd triumphant in th'embracing flood;
Self mov'd, her chariot on the surface goes,
Serene the Goddess on her chariot rose;
The river Nymphs obsequious round her stood,
And polish'd with their smiles the chrystal flood;
Lo! Salop's Spires now glitter in the deep,
Now nature's inmost soul is lull'd to sleep;
Sabrina now illustrious from afar
Descended gently like the morning star,
And at the Quarry reign'd her radiant Car.
THE END.
The Body of Henry Percy (called Hotspur) after the Battle, wherein he was slain, was delivered to the Lord Furnival to be buried. It was accordingly interred in the usual Manner with Prayers and Masses; the King (Henry 4th) soon after, commanded the Body to be taken up; caused it to be reposed between two Mill stones guarded by armed Men, in a Street in Shrewsbury near the Pillory, and afterwards commanded it to be beheaded and quartered, and the Head and Quarters to be sent to certain Cities of the Kingdom. Anglia Sacra, Vol. II. p. 366.
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