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MISCELLANIES.
Who lead fair Virtue's train along,
Moral Truth, and mystic Song!
To what new clime, what distant sky,
Forsaken, friendless, shall ye fly?
Say, will ye bless the bleak Atlantic shore,
Or bid the furious Gaul be rude no more?
Moral Truth, and mystic Song!
To what new clime, what distant sky,
Forsaken, friendless, shall ye fly?
Say, will ye bless the bleak Atlantic shore,
Or bid the furious Gaul be rude no more?
Strophe 2.
When Athens sinks by fates unjust,
When wild Barbarians spurn her dust;
Perhaps ev'n Britain's utmost shore
Shall cease to blush with stranger's gore,
See arts her savage sons controul,
An Athens rising near the pole!
Till some new Tyrant lifts his purple hand,
And civil madness tears them from the land.
When Athens sinks by fates unjust,
When wild Barbarians spurn her dust;
Perhaps ev'n Britain's utmost shore
Shall cease to blush with stranger's gore,
See arts her savage sons controul,
An Athens rising near the pole!
Till some new Tyrant lifts his purple hand,
And civil madness tears them from the land.
Antistrophe 2.
Ye Gods! what justice rules the ball?
Freedom and Arts together fall;
Fools grant whate'er ambition craves,
And men, once ignorant, are slaves.
Ye Gods! what justice rules the ball?
Freedom and Arts together fall;
Fools grant whate'er ambition craves,
And men, once ignorant, are slaves.
Oh
