Page:The Poetical Works of Elijah Fenton (1779).djvu/51

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EPISTLES.
43
Perhaps the beauties of thy Spartan dame,
Who (long defrauded of the public fame)
Shall, with superior majesty avow'd,
Shine like a goddess breaking from a cloud,
Once more may re-instate her on the stage, 100
Her action graceful, and divine her rage.
Arts have their empires, and, like other states,
Their rise and fall are govern'd by the Fates:
They, when their period's measur'd out by time,
Transplant their laurels to another clime. 105
The Grecian Muse once fill'd with loud alarms
The court of heav'n, and clad the gods in arms;
The trumpet silent, humbly she essay'd
The Doric reed, and sung beneath the shade,
Extoll'd a frugal life, and taught the swains 110
T'observe the seasons, and manure the plains:
Sometimes in warbled hymns she paid her vow,
Or wove Olympic wreaths for Theron's brow;
Sometimes on flow'ry beds she lay supine,
And gave her thoughts a loose to love and wine; 115
Or, in her sable stole and buskins dress'd,
Shew'd Vice enthron'd, and virtuous kings oppress'd.
The nymph still fair, however past her bloom,
From Greece at length was led in chains to Rome:
Whilst wars abroad and civil discord reign'd, 120
Silent the beauteous captive long remain'd;
That interval employ'd her timely care
To study and refine the language there.