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Great Sire of verse, before my mortal eyes, 
The lightenings blaze across the vaulted skies,
And the thunder shakes the heav'nly plains,
A deep-felt horror thrills through all my veins.
When gentler strains demand thy graceful song,   15
The length'ning line moves languishing along.
When great Patroclus courts Achilles' aid,
The greatful tribute of my tears is paid;
Prone on the shore he feels the pangs of love,
And stern Pelides' tend'rest passions move.      20


Gret Maro's strain n heav'nly numbers flows,
The Nine inspire, and all the bosom glows.
O could I rival thineand Virgil'spage,
Or claim the Muses with the Mantuan Sage;
Soon the fame beauties should my mind adorn,     25
And the fame ardors in my foul should burn;
Then should my song in bolder notes arise,
And all my numbers pleasingly surprise;
But here I fit, and mourn a groveling mind,
That fain would mount, and ride upon the wind.   30

Not you, my friend, these plaintive strains be-come, 
Not you, whose bosom is the Muses, home;
When they from tow'ring Helicon retire,
They fan in you the bright immrtal fire,
But I, less happy, cannot raise the song,        35
The falt'ring music dies upon my tongue.

The

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The happier Terence* all the choir inspir'd.
His soul replenish'd, and his bosom fir'd;
But say, ye Muses, why this partial grace,
To one alone of Afric's sable race;              40
From age to age transmitting thus his name
With the first glory in the rolls of fame?
Thy virtues, great Mæcenas! Shall be sung
In praise of him, from whom those virtues sprung:
While blooming wreaths around thy temples spread, 45
I'll snatch a laurel from thine honour'd head,
While you indulgent smile upon the deed.

As long as Thames in streams majestic flows,
Or Naiads in their oozy beds repose,
While Phabus reigns above the starry train,       50
While bright Aurora purples o'er the main,
So long, great Sir, the muse they praise shall sing,
So long thy praise shall make Parnassus ring:
Then grant, Macenas, thy paternal rays,
Hear me propitious, and defend my lays.           55

On VIRTUE.

O THOU bright jewel, in my aim I strive to comprehend thee. Thine own words declare
Wisdom.

*He was an African by birth.