h o'er the list'ning audience seen him stand,
Divinely speak, and graceful stretch his hand:
With such becoming grace and pompous sound,
With long-rob'd senators encircled round,
Before the Roman bar, while _Rome_ was free,
Nor bow'd to _Caesar's_ throne the servile knee;
Immortal _Tully_ pleads the patriot cause,
While ev'ry tongue resounded his applause.
Next round my board should candid _S----_ appear,
Of manners gentle, and a friend sincere,
Averse to discord party-rage and strife,
He sails serenely down the stream of life.
With these _three friends_ beneath a spreading shade,
Where silver fountains murmur thro' the glade;
Or in cool grots, perfum'd with native flow'rs,
In harmless mirth I'd spend the circling hours;
Or gravely talk, or innocently sing,
Or, in harmonious concert, strike the trembling string.

Amid sequester'd bow'rs near gliding streams,
_Druids_ and _Bards_ enjoy'd serenest dreams.
Such was the seat where courtly _Horace_ sung:
And his bold harp immortal _Maro_ strung:
Where tuneful _Orpheus_' unresisted lay,
Made rapid tygers bear their rage away;
While groves attentive to th' extatic sound
Burst from their roots, and raptur'd, danc'd around.
Such feats the venerable _Seers_ of old
(When blissful years in golden circles roll'd)
Chose and admir'd: e'en Goddesses and Gods
(As poets feign) were fond of such abodes:
Th' imperial consort of fictitious _Jove_,
For fount full _Ida_ forsook the realms above.
Oft to _Idalia_ on a golden cloud,
Veil'd in a mist of fragrance, _Venus_ rode;
The num'rous altars to the queen were rear'd,
And love-sick youths there am'rous-vows prefer'd,
While fair-hair'd damsels (a lascivious train)
With wanton rites ador'd her gentle reign.
The silver-shafted _Huntress_ of the woods,
Sought pendant shades, and bath'd in cooling floods.
In palmy _Delos_, by _Scamander_'s side,
Or when _Cajister_ roll'd his silver tide,
Melodious _Phoebus_ sang; the _Muses round_
Alternate warb'ling to the heav'nly sound.
E'en the feign'd MONARCH of heav'n's bright abode,
High thron'd in gold, of Gods the sov'reign God,
Oft time prefer'd the shade of _Ida_'s grove
To all th'ambrosial feast's, and nectar'd cups above.

Behold, the rosy-finger'd morning dawn,
In saffron rob'd, and blushing o