"Their conceptions are the most daring and most "remote from all vulgar ideas, or common fense; "they feem to fly from all method; they affect "transitions, which appear to be void of all art,

though in them there is a great deal; they are "fond of neglecting all connections; they begin and "end their poem in a manner abrupt, fudden, and "unexpected; and with a madness fuperior to all "the laws and rules of writing, dash about from

one thing to another, without obtaining pardon, "or even condefcending to afk it." Thefe rules have been obferved with great diligence, and fome fuccefs, by most of the writers of modern Odes; but have never been adhered to with that happy exactness, as in the piece which is now before us. It begins in a manner the most abrupt and unexpected, and ends as abruptly as it begins. It opens with a most fublime speech of a giant, fupposed to have run mad from fome disappointment in ambition or love; and this, in conformity to the ftrictest laws of criticifm, and the example of our moft admired writers of Odes, is so artificially contrived, that the reader,

however

however fagacious he may be, cannot poffibly difcover, before he arrives at the end of the fecond stanza, whether it is the speech of the giant or the poet, or any speech at all.

The tranfition from the giant's speech, to that beautiful description of the morning, is truly Pindaric; the fudden apoftrophe to the fun, is perfectly fublime; and that to the moon no less tender and pathetic the descriptions of the four feafons are wonderfully picturesque, and are not, as usual, copies drawn from the fcenery of Italian groves, and the plains of Arcadia, but true originals, taken on the fpot in Old England, and formed of ideas entirely new. And the addrefs to Liberty, which concludes this admirable Ode, is far fuperior to any thing of that kind, with which we are fo frequently entertained by our most admired poets; as it is more expreffive of the true fense and spirit of an Englishman.

Juft and lively pictures are the very effence of an Ode, as well as of an Auction-room, whether there are any proper places to hang them in or not; and fuch there are in the narrow compafs of this little

piece, of every thing that is great and beautiful in nature; of the morning rifing from the ocean; of the fun, the moon, and the planetary fyftem; of a giant and a hermit; of woods, rocks, and mountains, and the seasons of the revolving year: and in all these, the images are fo entirely new, the tranfitions fo fudden and unexpected, fo void of all apparent art, yet not without much of that which is quite invifible; the thoughts are fo fublime, so distant from all vulgar ideas, or common fenfe, that the judicious reader will scarcely find in it a fingle deviation from the severest laws of just criticism; and if he can peruse this incomparable work without an enthusiastic admiration, he ought to conclude, that whatever delight he may receive from poetry of other kinds, he is one of thofe unfortunate genius's who have no tafte for that moft fublime fpecies of it, the Ode.

ODE.

I'LL

'LL combat Nature, interrupt her course,
And baffle all her ftated laws by force;
Tear from its bed the deeply-rooted pine,
And hurl it up the craggy mountain's fide;
Divert the tempeft from its deftin'd line,

And ftem the torrent of th' impetuous tide;
Teach the dull ox to dance, the afs to play,
And even obftinate Americans t' obey.

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Like fome dread Herald, tygers I'll compel
In the fame field with ftags in peace to dwell;
The rampant lion now erect shall stand,

Now couchant at my feet shall lie depreft;
And if he dares but question my command,

With one strong blow I'll halve him to a crest, Thus spoke the giant Gogmagog: the found Reverberates from all the echoing rocks around,

Now Morning, rob'd in faffron-colour'd gown,
Her head with pink and pea-green ribbands drest,
Climbs

P 4

Climbs the celestial staircase, and looks down

From out the gilt balcony of the East ;

From whence around fhe fees

The crystal lakes and tufted trees,

The lawns all powder'd o'er with ftraggling flocks,
The scarce-enlighten'd vales, and high o'er-fhadowing

rocks.

Enamour'd with her newly-dawning charms,
Old Ocean views her with defiring eyes,
And longs once more to clasp her in his arms,
Repenting he had suffer'd her to rife;

Forth from his tumbled bed,

From whence she just had fled,

To the flow, loitering hours he roars amain,
To haften back the lovely fugitive again.

Parent of life! refulgent lamp of day!
Without whose genial animating ray
Men, beasts, the teeming earth, and rolling seas,
Courts, camps, and mighty cities, in a trice
Must share one common fate, intenfely freeze,

And all become one folid mafs of ice;

Ambition