In vain may death in various shapes invade,
The swift-wing'd arrow, the descending blade;
His naked breast their impotence defies;
The dart rebounds, the brittle fauchion flies.
Shut in himself, the war without he hears,
Safe in the tempest of their rattling spears;
The cumber'd strand their wasted volleys strow;
His sport, the rage and labour of the foe.

His pastimes like a cauldron boil the flood,
And blacken ocean with the rising mud;
The billows feel him, as he works his way;
His hoary footsteps shine along the sea;
The foam high-wrought, with white divides the
green,

And distant sailors point where death has been.
His like earth bears not on her spacious face:

and admirers of the writings of Moses, whom I suppose the author of this poem.

I have observed already that three or four of the creatures here described are Egyptian; the two last are notoriously so, they are the river-horse and the crocodile, those celebrated inhabitants of the Nile; and on these two it is that our author chiefly dwells. It would have been expected from an author more remote from that river than Moses, in a catalogue of creatures produced to magnify their Creator, to have dwelt on the two largest works of his hand, viz. the elephant and the whale. This is so natural an expectation, that some commentators have rendered behemoth and leviathan, the elephant and whale, though the descriptions in our author will not admit of it; but Moses being, as we may well suppose, under an immediate terror of the hippopotamus and crocodile, from their daily mischiefs and ravages around him, it is very accountable why he should permit them to take place.

Alone in nature stands his dauntless race,
For utter ignorance of fear renown'd,
In wrath he rolls his baleful eye around:
Makes every swoln, disdainful heart, subside,
And holds dominion o'er the sons of pride.

Then the Chaldæan eas'd his lab'ring breast, With full conviction of his crime opprest.

"Thou canst accomplish all things, Lord of And every thought is naked to thy sight. [might: But, oh! thy ways are wonderful, and lie Beyond the deepest reach of mortal eye. Oft have I heard of thine Almighty power; But never saw thee till this dreadful hour. O'erwhelm'd with shame, the Lord of life I see, Abhor myself, and give my soul to thee. Nor shall my weakness tempt thine anger more: Man is not made to question, but adore."

ON MICHAEL ANGELO'S FAMOUS PIECE OF

THE CRUCIFIXION;

WHO IS SAID TO HAVE STABBED A PERSON THAT HE MIGHT DRAW IT MORE NATURALLY.1

WHILST his Redeemer on his canvass dies,
Stabb'd at his feet his brother weltering lies:
The daring artist, cruelly serene,

Views the pale cheek and the distorted mien ;

Though the report was propagated without the least truth, it may be sufficient ground to justify a poetical fancy's enlarging on it.

He drains off life by drops, and, deaf to cries,
Examines every spirit as it flies:

He studies torment, dives in mortal woe,
To rouse up every pang repeats his blow;
Each rising agony, each dreadful grace,
Yet warm transplanting to his Saviour's face.
Oh glorious theft! oh nobly wicked draught!
With its full charge of death each feature fraught,
Such wondrous force the magic colours boast,
From his own skill he starts in horror lost.

TO MR. ADDISON,

ON THE TRAGEDY OF CATO.

WHAT do we see? Is Cato then become
A greater name in Britain than in Rome?
Does mankind now admire his virtues more,
Though Lucan, Horace, Virgil, wrote before?
How will posterity this truth explain?
"Cato begins to live in Anna's reign."
The world's great chiefs, in council or in arms,
Rise in your lines with more exalted charms;
Illustrious deeds in distant nations wrought,
And virtues by departed heroes taught,
Raise in your soul a pure immortal flame,
Adorn your life, and consecrate your fame;
To your renown all ages you subdue,
And Cæsar fought, and Cato bled for you.

All Souls Coll. Oxon.

191

HISTORICAL EPILOGUE TO THE BROTHERS.

A TRAGEDY.

AN Epilogue, through custom, is your right,
But ne'er perhaps was needful till this night:
To-night the virtuous falls, the guilty flies,
Guilt's dreadful close our narrow scene denies.
In history's authentic record read

What ample vengeance gluts Demetrius' shade;
Vengeance so great, that, when his tale is told,
With pity some e'en Perseus may behold.

Perseus surviv'd, indeed, and fill'd the throne, But ceaseless cares in conquest made him groan: Nor reign'd he long; from Rome swift thunder flew,

And headlong from his throne the tyrant threw :
Thrown headlong down, by Rome in triumph led,
For this night's deed his perjur'd bosom bled:
His brother's ghost each moment made him start,
And all his father's anguish rent his heart.

When, rob'd in black, his children round him hung,

And their rais'd arms in early sorrow wrung;
The younger smil'd, unconscious of their woe;
At which thy tears, O Rome! began to flow;
So sad the scene! What then must Perseus feel,
To see Jove's race attend the victor's wheel;
To see the slaves of his worst foes increase,
From such a source !--An emperor's embrace!

He sicken'd soon to death; and, what is worse,
He well deserv'd, and felt, the coward's curse;
Unpitied, scorn'd, insulted his last hour,

Far, far from home, and in a vassal's power:
His pale cheek rested on his shameful chain,
No friend to mourn, no flatterer to feign;
No suit retards, no comfort soothes his doom,
And not one tear bedews a monarch's tomb.
Nor ends it thus-dire vengeance to complete,
His ancient empire falling shares his fate:
His throne forgot! his weeping country chain'd'
And nations ask-where Alexander reign'd.
As public woes a prince's crime pursue,
So public blessings are his virtue's due.
Shout, Britons, shout-auspicious fortune bless!
And cry, Long live-Our title to success!

EPITAPH

ON LORD AUBREY BEAUCLERK,1 IN WESTMINSTERABBEY, 1740.

WHILST Britain boasts her empire o'er the deep,
This marble shall compel the brave to weep:
As men, as Britons, and as soldiers, mourn ;
'Tis dauntless, loyal, virtuous Beauclerk's urn.

1 Lord Aubrey Beauclerk was the eighth son of the Duke of St. Albans, who was one of the sons of King Charles the Second. He was born in the year 1711; and, being regularly bred to the sea service, in 1731 he was appointed to the command of his majesty's ship the