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TRIUMPH OF ISIS.
OCCASIONED BY “ 1915," AN ELEGY.
BY T. WHARTON.
Quid mihi nescio quam, proprio cum Tybride, Romam Semper in ore geris? Referunt si vera parentes, Hanc Urbem insano nullus qui Marte petivit, Lætatus violasse redit. Nec Numina Sedem Destituent.
ON closing flow’rs when genial gales diffuse
As the smooth surface of the dimply flood The silver-slipper'd virgin lightly trod; From her loose hair the dropping dew she press’d, And thus mine ear in accents mild address’d:
No more, my son, the rural reed employ, Nor trill the tinkling strain of empty joy ; No more thy love-resounding sonnets suit To notes of pastoral pipe or oaten flute. For hark! high-thron’d on yon majestic walls, To the dear Muse afflicted Freedom calls : When Freedom calls, and Oxford bids thee sing, Why stays thy hand to strike the sounding string? While thus, in Freedom's and in Phæbus' spite, The venal sons of slavish Cam unite; To shake yon towers when malice rears her crest, Shall all my sons in silence idly rest?
Still sing, O Cam, your fav'rite freedom's cause, Still boast of Freedom, while you break her laws; To Pow'r your songs of gratulation pay ; To courts address soft fattery's servile lay. What tho' your gentle Mason's plaintive verse Has hung with sweetest wreaths Museus' herse ; What, tho' your vaunted bard's ingenuous woe, Soft as my stream, in tuneful numbers flow? Yet strove his Muse, by fame or envy led, To tear the laurels from a sister's head. Misguided youth! with rude unclassic rage To blot the beauties of thy whiter page; A rage that sullies e’en thy guiltless lays, And blasts the vernal bloom of half thy bays.
Let *** boast the patrons of her name,
Still let the drones of her exhaustless hive
Though wakeful Vengeance watch my crystal Tho' Persecution wave her iron wing, (spring, And o'er yon spiry temples as she flies, “ Those destin'd seats be mine,” exulting cries ; Fortune's fair smiles on Isis still attend : And as the dews of gracious Heaven descend
Unask'd, unseen, in still but copious show'rs,
E'en late, when Radcliffe's delegated train Auspicious shone in Isis' happy plain; When yon proud #dome, fair learning's amplest Beneath its attic roofs receiv'd the Nine; (shrine, Was rapture mute, or ceas’d the glad acclaim, To Radcliffe due, and Isis' honour'd name? What free-born crowds adorn’d the festive day, Nor blush'd to wear my tributary bay! How each brave breast with honest ardours heav’d, When Sheldon's fane the patriot band receiv'd;
• The Radcliffe Library.