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When Orpheus tun'd his lyre with pleasing woe,
Rivers forgot to run, and winds to blow,
While listening forests cover'd, as he play'd,
The soft musician in a moving shade.
That this night's strains the same success may find,
The force of music is to music join'd;
Where sounding strings and artful voices fail,
The charming rod and mutter'd spells prevail.
Let sage Urganda wave the circling wand
On barren mountains or a waste of sand,
The desert smiles, the woods begin to grow,
The birds to warble, and the springs to flow,

The same dull sights in the same landscape mix'd,
Scenes of still life, and points for ever fix'd,
A tedious pleasure on the mind bestow,
And pall the sense with one continued show:
But as our two magicians try their skill,
The vision varies, though the place stands still,
While the same spot its gaudy form renews,
Shifting the prospect to a thousand views.
Thus (without unity of place transgrest)
The Enchanter turns the critic to a jest.

But howsoe'er, to please your wandering eyes, Bright objects dissappear and brighter rise, There's none can make amends for lost delight, While from that circle we divert your sight. VOL. XIV.









The sun's bright palace, on high columns rais’d,
With burnish'd gold and flaming jewels blaz'd,
The folding gates diffus'd a silver light,
And with a milder gleam refresh'd the sight;
Of polish'd ivory was the covering wrought,
The matter vied not with the sculptor's thought,
For in the portal was display'd on high
(The work of Vulcan) a fictitious sky,
A waving sea the’ inferior earth embrac'd,
And gods and goddesses the waters grac'd:
Ægeon here a mighty whale bestrode;
Triton and Proteus (the deceiving god)
With Doris here were carv'd, and all her train,
Some loosely swimming in the figurd main,
While some on rocks their dropping hair divide
And some on fishes through the waters glide.
Though various features did the sisters grace,
A sister's likeness was in every face.

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On earth a different landscape courts the eyes, Men, towns, and beasts, in distant prospects rise, And nymphs, and streams, and woods, and rura]

deities; O’er all the heaven's refulgent image shines ; On either gate were six engraven signs.

Here Phaëton, still gaining on the ascent, To his suspected father's palace went, Till, pressing forward through the bright abode, He saw at distance the illustrious god; He saw at distance, or the dazzling light Had flash'd too strongly on his aching sight.

The god sits high, exalted or a throne Of blazing gems, with purple garments on; The Hours in order rang'd on either hand, And Days, and Months, and Years, and Ages, stand: Here Spring appears with flowery chaplets bound, Here Summer in her wheaten garland crown'd; Here Autumn the rich trodden grapes besmear, And Hoary Winter shivers in the rear.

Phæbus beheld the youth from off his throne;
That eye which looks on all, was fix'd on one:
He saw the boy's confusion in his face,
Surpris'd at all the wonders of the place,
And cries aloud, · What wants my son? for know
My son thou art, and I must call thee so.'
Light of the world! (the trembling youth re-

Illustrious parent! since you don't despise
The parent's name, some certain token give,
That I may Clymenė's proud boast believe,
Nor longer under false reproaches grieve.'

The tender sire was touch'd with what he said, And Aung the blaze of glories from his head,

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And bid the youth advance. “My son, (said he)
Come to thy father's arms; for Clymenè
Has told thee true ; a parent's name I own,
And deem thee worthy to be call’d my son :
As a sure proof, make some request, and I,
Whate'er it be, with that request comply ;
By Styx I swear! whose waves are hid in night,
And roll impervious to my piercing sight.'

The youth, transported, asks, without delay, "To guide the sun's bright chariot for a day.'

The god repented of the oath he took,
For anguish thrice his radiant head he shook :

My son, (says he) some other proof require;
Rash was my promise, rash is thy desire.
I'd fain deny this wish which thou hast made,
Or, what I can't deny, would fain dissuade.
Too vast and hazardous the task appears,
Nor suited to thy strength, nor to thy years,
Thy lot is mortal, but thy wishes fly
Beyond the province of mortality.
There is not one of all the gods that dares
(However skill'd in other great affairs)
To mount the burning axle-tree, but I;
Not Jove himself, the ruler of the sky,
That hurls the three-fork'd thunder from above,
Dares try his strength; yet who so strong as Jove?
The steeds climb up the first ascent with pain,
And when the middle firmament they gain,
If downward from the heavens my head I bow,
And see the earth and ocean hang below,
Ev'n I am seiz'd with horror and affright,
And my own heart misgives me at the sight;
A mighty downfal steeps the evening stage,
And steady reins must curb the borses' rage.

Tethys herself has fear'd to see me driv'n
Down headlong from the precipice of heav'n.
Besides, consider what impetuous force
Turns stars and planets in a different course :
I steer against their motions; nor am I
Borne back by all the current of the sky.
But how could you resist the orbs that roll
In adverse whirls, and stem the rapid pole ?
But you perhaps may hope for pleasing woods,
And stately domes, and cities fill’d with gods,
While through a thousand snares your progress lies,
Where forms of starry monsters stock the skies :
For should you hit the doubtful way aright,
The Bull with stooping horns stands opposite ;
Next him the bright Hæmonian bow is strung;
And next the Lion's grinning visage hung;
The Scorpion's claws here clasp a wide extent,
And here the Crab's in lesser clasps are bent.
Nor would you find it easy to compose
The mettled steeds, when from their nostrils flows
The scorching fire that in their entrails glows:
Ev'n I their headstrong fury scarce restrain,
When they grow warm and restive to the rein.
Let not my son a fatal gift require,
But, 0! in time recal your rash desire:
You ask a gift that may your parent tell ;
Let these my fears your parentage reveal,
And learn a father from a father's care:
Look on my face ; or if my heart lay bare,
Could you but look you'd read the father there.
Choose out a gift from seas, or earth, or skies,
For open to your wish all nature lies;
Only decline this one unequal task,
For 'tis a mischief, not a gift, you ask :

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