  TO ARTHUR ONSLOW, ESQ. I. This goodly frame what virtue so approves, And testifies the pure etherial spirit As mild Benevolence? She with her sister Mercy still awaits Beside th' eternal throne of Jove, And measures forth with unwithdrawing hand The blessings of the various year, Sunshine or show'r, and chides the madding tempest. II. With her the heaven-bred nymph meek Charity, Shall fashion ONSLOW forth in fairest portrait; And with recording care Weave the fresh wreath that flow'ring virtue claims. But oh, what muse shall join the band? He long has sojourn'd in the sacred haunts, And knows each whisp'ring grot and glade Trod by Apollo, and the light-foot Graces. III. How then shall awkward gratitude And the presumption of untutor'd duty Attune my numbers all too rude? Little he recks the meed of such a song; Yet will I stretch aloof, And when I tell of Courtesy, Of well-attemper'd Zeal, Of awful Prudence soothing fell Contention, Where shall the lineaments agree But in thee, ONSLOW? You, your wonted leave Indulge me, nor misdeem a Soldier's bold emprize; IV. Who in the dissonance of barb'rous war, Long train'd, revisits oft the sacred treasures Of antique memory; Or where sage Pindar reins his fiery car, Through the vast vault of heaven secure, Or what the Attic muse that Homer fill'd, Her other son, thy Milton taught, Or range the flow'ry fields of gentle Spenser. V. And ever as I go, allurements vain Cherish a feeble fire, and feed my idle Fancy: O cou'd I once Charm to their melody my shrilling reeds! Dread names! I'd meditate the faithful song; Or tell what time britannia, Whilom the fairest daughter of old Ocean, VI. In loathly disarray, dull eyes, And faded cheek, wept o'er her abject sons: Till william, great deliverer, Led on the comely train, gay Liberty, Religion, matron staid, With all her kindred goddesses; Justice with steady brow, Trim Plenty, laureat Peace, and green-hair'd Commerce, In flowing vest of thousand hues. Fain would I shadow out old Bourbon's pile Tott'ring with doubtful weight, and threat'ning cumbrous fall; VII. Or trace our navy, where in tow'ring pride O'er the wide-swelling waste it rolls avengeful. As when collected clouds Forth from the gloomy south in deep array, Athwart the dark'ning landscape throng, Fraught with loud storms, and thunder's dreadful peal, And wasting Riot ill dissembles terror. VIII. How headlong Rhone and Ebro erst distain'd With moorish carnage, quakes thro' all her branches! Soon shall I greet the morn, When, Europe sav'd, britain and george's name Shall sound o'er Flandria's level field, Familiar in domestic meriment; Or by the jolly mariner Be carol'd loud adown the echoing Danube. IX. The just memorial of fair deeds Still flourishes, and like th' untainted soul Blossoms in freshest age, above The weary flesh, and envy's rankling wound. Such after years mature In full account shall be thy meed. O! may your rising hope Well principled in ev'ry virtue bloom! Till a fresh-springing flock implore With infant hands a grandsire's pow'rful pray'r, Or round your honour'd couch their prattling sports persue. FOOTNOTES: |
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