Thou happy Bard! whofe fweet and potent voice 365 Can reach all notes within the Poet's choice;

Whofe vivid foul has led thee to infufe

Dramatic life in the preceptive Mufe;

Since, bleft alike with Beauty and with Force,
Thou rivall'st VIRGIL in his Sylvan courfe,
O be it thine the higher palm to gain,
And pafs him in the wide Heroic plain!
To fing, with equal fire, of nobler themes,
To gild Hiftoric Truth with Fancy's beams!
To Patriot Chiefs unfung thy Lyre dévote,
And fwell to Liberty the lofty note.!

With humbler aim, but no ungenerous view,
My steps, lefs firm, their lower path pursue ;
Of different Arts I fearch the ample field,
Mark its paft fruits, and what it yet may yield;
With willing voice the praife of Merit found,
And bow to Genius wherefoever found;
O'er my free Verfe bid nobleft names prefide,
Tho' Party's hostile lines thofe names divide;'
Party! whofe murdering fpirit I abhor,
More fubtly cruel, and lefs brave than War.

3.70€

375

380

385

Party!!

Party! infidious Fiend! whose vapors blind
The light of Juftice in the brightest mind;
Whose feverish tongue, whence deadly venom flows,
Basely belies the merit of her foes!

O that my Verse with magic power were bleft,

To drive from Learning's field this baleful peft!
Fond, fruitless wish! the mighty talk would foil
The firmeft fons of Literary Toil;

In vain a letter'd Hercules might rife

To cleanfe the ftable where this Monfter lies:
Yet, if the Imps of her malignant brood,
With all their Parent's acrid gall endu'd;
If Spleen pours forth, to Mockery's apish tune,
Her gibing Ballad, and her base Lampoon,
On fairest names, from every blemish free,
Save what the jaundic'd eyes of Party see ;
My glowing scorn will execrate the rhyme,
Tho' laughing Humor ftrike its tuneful chime;
Tho' keenest Wit the glitt'ring lines invest

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With all the fplendor of the Adder's creft.
Sublimer MASON! not to thee belong

Thou chief of living Bards! O be it ours,
In fame tho' different, as of different powers,
Party's dark clouds alike to rife above,
And reach the firmament of Public Love I
May'ft thou ascend Parnaffus' highest mound,
In triumph there the Epic Trumpet sound;

While, with no envious zeal, I thus afpire
By just applause to fan thy purer fire;
And of the Work which Freedom pants to fee,
Which thy firm Genius claims referv'd for thee,
In this frank style my honest thoughts impart,
If not an Artist yet a friend to Art. :

410

4F5

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NOTES.

NOTE S.