OF ALBANIA.
153
These arts, O goddess! brighten from thy ray,
By thee they flourish, and with thee decay; 40
To Athens, these her truest glory gave
To Rome,—ere Romans conquered to enslave.
But in their rushing states, when public power
Propt the lewd wretch, or swelled the private store;
O'er patriot zeal, when rose ambition's lust,
And jealous justice sunk to mean distrust;
Dragged by vile lictors, where the forum raved,
When heroes bled by villains whom they saved:
Then, with the herd, the muse condemned, or praised,
And courts destroyed those arts that senates raised. 50
Albania's sons, may these examples teach,
How far the bounds of real freedom reach:
Teach them with equal vigour to engage
A faction's fury, as a tyrant's rage.
And see, where bursting from a Gothic night
Half her brave race emerges into light;
By Thee! to better being waked, they hail
Their social life, and court the peopled vale;
By Thee! her genius raised, with glad surprise
Sees cultured groves, and cheerful villas rise. 60
Pleased she beholds the golden harvests nod,
And the bold arch controul the swelling flood;
By thee they flourish, and with thee decay; 40
To Athens, these her truest glory gave
To Rome,—ere Romans conquered to enslave.
But in their rushing states, when public power
Propt the lewd wretch, or swelled the private store;
O'er patriot zeal, when rose ambition's lust,
And jealous justice sunk to mean distrust;
Dragged by vile lictors, where the forum raved,
When heroes bled by villains whom they saved:
Then, with the herd, the muse condemned, or praised,
And courts destroyed those arts that senates raised. 50
Albania's sons, may these examples teach,
How far the bounds of real freedom reach:
Teach them with equal vigour to engage
A faction's fury, as a tyrant's rage.
And see, where bursting from a Gothic night
Half her brave race emerges into light;
By Thee! to better being waked, they hail
Their social life, and court the peopled vale;
By Thee! her genius raised, with glad surprise
Sees cultured groves, and cheerful villas rise. 60
Pleased she beholds the golden harvests nod,
And the bold arch controul the swelling flood;
