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Which spoke his ftrength mature beyond its prime,_Niason.
Yet vigorous ftill, for from his healthy cheek
Time had not cropt a rofe, or on his brow
One wrinkling furrow plow'd; his eagle eye
Had all its youthful lightning, and each limb
The finewy ftrength, that toil demands and gives.

The warrior faw and paus'd: his nod with-

The crowd at awful diftance, where their ears,
In mute attention, drank the fage's prayer.
,, Parent of Good! (he cried) behold the gifts
Thy humble votary brings, and may thy fmile
Hallow his cuftom'd offering. Let the hand
That deals in blood, with blood thy fhrines dis-

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„Be mine this harmless tribute. If it fpeaks
"A grateful heart, can hecatombs do more?
Parent of Good! they cannot. Purple pomp
May call thy presence to a prouder fane




Than this poor cave; but will thy prefence there „Be more devoutly felt? Parent of Good!.

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It will not. Here then, fhall the proftrate heart,
That deeply feels thy prefence, lift its pray'r.
But what has he to afk who nothing needs,

„Save what unafk'd is from thy heav'n of heav'ns
Giv'n in diurnal good? Yet, holy Power!

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„Do all that call thee Father thus exult

"In thy propitious prefence? Sidon finks


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Beneath a tyrant's fcourge. Parent of Good!
Oh free my captive country." Sudden here
He paus'd and figh'd; and now, the raptur'd crowd
Murmur'd applaufe: he heard, he turn'd, and faw
The king of Macedon with eager step

Burft from his warrior phalanx. From the youth,
Who bore its state, the conqueror's own right hand
Snatch'd the rich wreath, and bound it on his brow.
His fwift attendants o'er his shoulders caft
The robe of empire, while the trumpet's voice
Proclaim'd him king of Sidon. Stern he stood,


Mason. Or, if he fmil'd, 'twas a contemptuous fmile,
That held the pageant honours in disdain.-

Then burst the people's voice, in loud acclaim,
And bad him be their Father. At the word
The honour'd blood, that warm'd him, flufh'd his

His brow expanded; his exaited step

March'd firmer; gracioufly he bowd the head.
And was the Sire they call'd him. Tell me king,"
Young Ammon cried, while o'er his bright'ning


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He caft the gaze of wonder, „how a foul

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Like thine could bear the toils of Penury?"
Oh grant me, Gods!" he anfwer'd,,,fo to bear
This load of Royalty. My toil was crown'd

» With bleffings loft to kings; yet righteous Pow?

"If to my country ye transfer the boon,

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I triumph in the lofs: Be mine the chains
That fetter Sov'reignty; let Sidon smile

"With your best bleffings, Liberty and Peace."




Keiner unter den jezigen englischen Dichtern hat sich in der, von dieser Nation so häufig und so vorzüglich schön bes arbeiteten, artistischen Gattung des Lehrgedichts, so ausges zeichneten Beifall erworben, als William Hayley, Œfq. aus der Grafschaft Suffer gebürtig. Seine drei hicher ges

hörigen Gedichte sind indeß nicht Lehrgedichte im ftrengern Verstande des Worts, und in Virgil's Manier; es sind vielmehr, ihrer ganzen Form und Einrichtung nach, zugleich beschreibende und unterrichtende poetische Episteln, von der Art, wie die Horazischen an die Visouen und an den August. Zuerst erschien der Essay on Painting, in zwei poes tischen Briefen, an den Mahler Romney gerichtet; dann der Essay on History, in drei Briefen, an den berühmten Ges schichtschreiber Gibbon; und zuleht der Effay on Epic Poetry, in fünf Episteln, án Hrn. Mason. In allen ist der Gang nicht sowohl didaktisch, als historisch und charakterisis rend; aber eben in der Entwerfung der eigenthümlichen Vorzüge jedes Mahlers, Geschichtschreibers und Heldenz dichters zeigt Hr. Hayley einen sehr feinen Geschmack, und in ihrer Schilderung ein sehr fruchtbares poetisches Genie. Ueberaus unterhaltend find die jedem Gedichte beigefügten ausführlichen Anmerkungen, die zum Theil kritisch, meis ftens aber literarisch und historisch sind. Unter denen zu dem lezten Gedichte befindet sich der glückliche Versuch einer Ues bersehung der drei ersten Gefinge aus der Hölle des Dante, mit beibehaltner Versart der terze rime. Die sämmtlic chen bisherigen Werke dieses Dichters find zu London 1785 in sechs Oktavbänden zusammen gedruckt; und die beiden. ersten der drei angeführten Essays, aus deren jedem hier eis ne kurze Probe folgt, stehen, mit dem gedachten Kommentar begleitet, in den beiden bisherigen Bånden der Benzlerischen Poetical Library,




Ep. I. v. 21-155.

Painting, fweet Nymph now leaves in lifeless


Exhaufted Italy and tinfel France,
And fees in Britain, with exulting eyes,
Her votties prosper, and her glories rife.
Yet tho', my friend, thy art is thus careft,
And with the homage of the public hleft,
And flourishes with growing beauty fair,
The child of Majesty's adoptive care,
The youthful artift ftill is doom't to feel
Obftruction's chilling hand, that damps his zeal:
Th' imperious voice of Vanity and Pride
Bids him from Fancy's region turn afide,
And quit the magic of her fcene, to trace
The vacant lines of fome unmeaning face:
F'en in this work his wifhes ftill are croft,
And all the efforts of his art are loft;
For when the canvas, with the mirror's truth,
Reflects the perfect form of age or youth,
The fond affections of the partial mind
The eye of judgment with delufion blind:
Each mother bids him brighter tints employ,
And give new spirit to her booby boy;
Nor can the painter, with his utmost art,
Exprefs the image in the lover's heart:
Unconscious of the change the feafons bring,
Autumnal beauty afks the rofe of spring,
And vain felf-love, in every age the fame,
Will fondly urge fone vifionary claim.
The luckiefs painter, deftin'd to fubmit,
Mourns the loft likeness which he once had hit,
And, doom'd to groundless cenfure, bears alone
The grievous load of errors not his own.


Nor is Pride, or Folly's vain command,

That only tetters his creative hand;
At Fal hinon's nod he copies as they pafs

Each quaint reflection from her crowded glafs.
The formal cost, with interfecting line,
Mars the free graces of his fair defign;
The towering cap he marks with like diftrefs,
And all the motley mafs of female drefs.
The hoop extended with enormous fize,
The corks that like a promontory rife;
The stays of deadly fteel, in whofe embrace
The tyrant Fashion tortures injur'd Grace.
But Art, despairing over fhapes like these
To caft an air of elegance and eale,

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Invokes kind Fancy's aid the comes to spread
Her magic fpells the Gothic forms are fled;
And fee, to crown the painter's juft defire,
Her free pofitions, and her light attire!
Th' ambitious artist wifhes to purfue
This brilliant plan with more extenfive view,
And with adopted character to give
A lafting charm to make the portrait live;
All points of art by one nice effort gain,
Delight the learned, and content the vain;
Make hiftory to life new value lend,
And in the comprehenfive picture blend
The ancient hero with the living friend.


Molt faire device! „, but, ah! what foes to fenfe,
What broods of motley monfters rife from hen-

The ftrange pretenfions of each age and fex
Thefe plans of fancy and of tafte perplex;
For male and female, to themselves unknown,
Demand a character unlike their own,
Till oft the painter to this quaint distress
Prefers the awkward chapes of common drefs.
Sweet girls, of mild and pensive softness, choose
The fportive emblems of the comic Mufe;
And fprightly damfels are inclined to borrow
The garb of penitence, and tears of forrow:

Beisp. Samml. 3. B.





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