The fun-beam; there, embofs'd and fretted wild,
The growing wonder takes a thousand shapes
Capricious, in which fancy feeks in vain
The likeness of some object seen before.
Thus nature works as if to mock at art,
And in defiance of her rival pow'rs;
By thefe fortuitous and random strokes
Performing fuch inimitable feats
As fhe with all her rules can never reach.
Lefs worthy of applause, though more admir'd,
Because a novelty, the work of man,
Imperial mistress of the fur-clad Rufs!
Thy most magnificent and mighty freak,
The wonder of the North. No foreft fell
When thou would'st build; no quarry fent its stores
T'enrich thy walls: but thou didst hew the floods,
And make thy marble of the glaffy wave.
In fuch a palace Ariftæus found
Cyrene, when he bore the plaintive tale
Of his loft bees to her maternal ear:
In fuch a palace poetry might place
The armoury of winter; where his troops,
The gloomy clouds, find weapons, arrowy fleet,
Skin-piercing volley, bloffom-bruifing hail,
And fnow that often blinds the trav❜ller's course,
And wraps him in an unexpected tomb.
Silently as a dream the fabric rofe ;
No found of hammer or of saw was there:
Ice upon ice, the well-adjusted parts
Were foon conjoin'd; nor other cement ask'd
Than water interfus'd to make them one.
Lamps gracefully difpos'd, and of all hues,
Illumin'd ev'ry fide: a wat❜ry light
Gleam'd through the clear transparency, that seem'd
Another moon new rifen, or meteor fall'n
From heav'n to earth, of lambent flame ferene.
So ftood the brittle prodigy; though smooth
And flipp'ry the materials, yet frost-bound
Firm as a rock. Nor wanted aught within,
That royal refidence might well befit,
For grandeur or for ufe. Long wavy wreaths
Of flow'rs, that fear'd no
enemy but warmth,
Mirror needed none
Where all was vitreous; but in order due
Convivial table and commodious feat
(What seem'd at least commodious feat) were there;
Sofa, and couch, and high-built throne august.
The fame lubricity was found in all,
And all was moift to the warm touch; a scene
Of evanefcent glory, once a ftream,
And foon to flide into a stream again.
Alas! 'twas but a mortifying stroke
Of undefign'd feverity, that glanc'd
(Made by a monarch) on her own eftate,
On human grandeur and the courts of kings.
'Twas tranfient in its nature, as in fhow
'Twas durable; as worthlefs, as it feem'd
Intrinfically precious; to the foot
Treach'rous and false; it fmil'd, and it was cold.
Great princes have great playthings. Some have play'd
At hewing mountains into men, and fome
At building human wonders mountain-high.
Some have amus'd the dull, fad years of life,
(Life fpent in indolence, and therefore fad)
With schemes of monumental fame; and fought
By pyramids and maufolean pomp,
Short-liv'd themselves, t' immortalize their bones.
Some feek diversion in the tented field,
And make the forrows of mankind their sport.
But war's a game, which, were their subjects wife,
Kings would not play at. Nations would do well
T' extort their truncheons from the puny hands
Of heroes, whofe infirm and baby minds
Are gratified with mischief; and who spoil,
Becaufe men fuffer it, their toy the world.
When Babel was confounded, and the great
Confed'racy of projectors wild and vain
Was fplit into diversity of tongues,
Then, as a fhepherd separates his flock,
Thefe to the upland, to the valley those,
God drave afunder, and affign'd their lot
To all the nations. Ample was the boon
He
gave them, in its diftribution fair
And equal; and he bade them dwell in peace.
Peace was awhile their care; they plough'd, and fow'd,
And reap'd their plenty, without grudge or strife.
But violence can never longer fleep
Than human paffions pleafe. In ev'ry heart
Are fown the fparks that kindle fiery war;
Occafion needs but fan them, and they blaze.
Cain had already fhed a brother's blood:
The deluge wafh'd it out; but left unquench'd
The feeds of murder in the breast of man.
Soon, by a righteous judgment, in the line
Of his defcending progeny was found
The first artificer of death; the shrewd
Contriver who firft fweated at the forge,
And forc'd the blunt and yet unbloodied steel
To a keen edge, and made it bright for war.
Him, Tubal nam'd, the Vulcan of old times,
The fword and falchion their inventor claim;
And the firft fmith was the firft murd'rer's fon.
His art furviv'd the waters; and ere long,
When man was multiplied and spread abroad
In tribes and clans, and had begun to call
Thefe meadows and that range of hills his own,
The tafted fweets of property begat
Defire of more; and industry in some,
T'improve and cultivate their just demesne,
Made others covet what they saw so fair.
Thus war began on earth: thefe fought for fpoil,
And thofe in felf defence. Savage at first
The onfet, and irregular. At length
One eminent above the reft, for strength,
For ftratagem, or courage, or for all,
Was chofen leader: him they ferv'd in war,
And him in peace, for fake of warlike deeds
Rev'renc'd no lefs. Who could with him
Or who fo worthy to controul themselves.
As he whofe prowefs had fubdu'd their foes?
Thus war, affording field for the display
Of virtue, made one chief, whom times of peace,
Which have their exigencies too, and call
For fkill in government, at length made king.
King was a name too proud for man to wear
With modefty and meeknefs; and the crown,
So dazzling in their eyes who fet it on,
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