EPODE.

Yet, even where'er the least appear'd, The admiring world thy hand revered; Still,‘ midst the scatter'd states around, Some remnants of her strength were found;

They saw, by what escaped the storm, How wondrous rose her perfect form; How in the great, the labour'd whole, Each mighty master pour'd his soul!

For sunny Florence, seat of art, Beneath her vines preserved a part, Till they,whom Science loved to name, ( O who could fear it? ) quench'd her flame.

And lo, an humbler relic laid In jealous Pisa's olive shade! See small Marinojoins the theme, Though least, not last in thy esteem:

Strike, louder strike the ennobling strings To those,whose merchant sons were kings; To him,who, deck'd with pearly pride, In Adria weds his green-hair'd bride;

Hail, port of glory, wealth, and pleasure, Ne'er let me change this Lydian measure: Nor e'er her former pride relate, To sad Liguria'sbleeding state.

Ah no! more pleased thy haunts I seek, On wild Helvetia'smountains bleak: ( Where, when the favour'd of thy choice, The daring archer heard thy voice;

Forth from his eyrie roused in dread, The ravening eagle northward fled:) Or dwell in willow'd meads more near, With those to whom thy storkis dear:

Those whom the rod of Alva bruised, Whose crown a British queenrefused! The magic works, thou feel'st the strains, One holier name alone remains;

The perfect spell shall then avail, Hail, nymph, adored by Britain, hail!