To be matur'd in more indulgent skies,
Where all the vigour of the soul can rise;
Through warmer veins where sprightlier spirits run,
And sense, enliven❜d, sparkles in the sun.
With secret pain the prudent patriot gave
The hopes of Britain to the rolling wave,
Anxious, the charge to all the stars resign'd,
And plac'd a confidence in sea and wind.
Ausonia soon receiv'd her wond'ring guest,
And equal wonder in her turn confest,
To see her fervours rivall'd by the pole,
Her lustre beaming from a northern soul:
In like surprise was her Æneas lost,
To find his picture grace a foreign coast.
Now the wide field of Europe he surveys,
Compares her kings, her thrones and empires weighs,
In ripen'd judgment and consummate thought;
Great work! By Nassau's favour cheaply bought.
He now returns to Britain, a support,
Wise in her senate, graceful in her court;
And when the public welfare would permit,
The source of learning, and the soul of wit.
O Warwick! (whom the muse is fond to name,
And kindles, conscious of her future theme)
O Warwick! by divine contagion bright,
How early didst thou catch his radiant light!
By him inspir'd, how shine before thy time,
And leave thy years, and leap into thy prime !
On some warm bank, thus, fortunately borne,
A rose-bud opens to a summer's morn,
Full blown ere noon her fragrant pride displays,
And shews th' abundance of her purple rays.
Wit, as her bays, was once a barren tree;
We now, surpris'd, her fruitful branches see;
Or, orange-like, till his auspicious time
It grew indeed, but shiver'd in our clime:
He first the plant to richer gardens led,
And fix'd, indulgent, in a warmer bed :
The nation, pleas'd, enjoys the rich produce,
And gathers from her ornament her use.
When loose from public cares, the grove he sought,
And fill'd, the leisure interval with thought,
The various labours of his easy page,
A chance amusement, polish'd half an age.
Beyond this truth old bards could scarce invent,
Who durst to frame a world by accident.
What he has sung, how early, and how well,
The Thames shall boast, and Roman Tiber tell.
A glory more sublime remains in store,
Since such his talents, that he sung no more.
No fuller proof of pow'r the Almighty gave,
Making the sea, than curbing her proud wave.
Nought can the genius of his works transcend,
But their fair purpose and important end;
To rouse the war for injur'd Europe's laws,
To steel the patriot in great Brunswick's cause;
With virtue's charms to kindle sacred love,
Or paint th' eternal bowers of bliss above.
Where had'st thou room, great Author! where to roll The mighty theme of an immortal soul?
Through paths unknown, unbeaten, whence were brought
Thy proofs so strong for immaterial thought?
One let me join, all others may excel,
"How could a mortal essence think so well?"
But why so large in the great writer's praise?
More lofty subjects should my numbers raise :
In him (illustrious rivalry!) contend
The statesman, patriot, christian, and the friend!
His glory such it borders on disgrace
To say he sung the best of human race.
In joy once join'd, in sorrow now for years,
Partner in grief, and brother of my tears,
Tickell! accept this verse, thy mournful due
Thou farther shalt the sacred theme pursue;
And as thy strain describes the matchless man,
Thy life shall second what thy muse began.
Tho' sweet in numbers, tho' a fire divine
Dart thro' the whole, and burn in ev'ry line,
Who strives not for that excellence he draws,
Is stain'd by fame, and suffers from applause.
But haste to thy illustrious task; prepare
The noble work well trusted to thy care,
The gift bequeath'd by Addison's command,
To Craggs made sacred by his dying hand.
Collect the labours, join the various rays,
The scatter'd light in one united blaze;
Then bear to him so true, so truly lov'd,
In life distinguish'd, and in death approv'd
Th' immortal legacy. He hangs awhile
In gen❜rous anguish o'er the glorious pile;
With anxious pleasure the known page reviews,
And the dear pledge with falling tears bedews.
What tho' thy tears, pour'd o'er thy godlike friend,
Thy other cares for Britain's weal suspend?
Think not, O Patriot! while thy eyes o'erflow,
Those cares suspended for a private woe;
Thy love to him is to thy country shewn;
He mourns for her who mourns for Addison.
Occasioned by his Majesty's Royal Encouragement
I THINK myself ooliged to recommend to you a consideration of the greatest importance, and I should look upon it as a great happiness, if, at the beginning of my reign, I could see the foundation laid of so great and necessary a work as the increase and encouragement of our seamen in general, that they may be invited, rather than compelled by force and violence, to enter into the service of their country as oft as occasion shall require it; a consideration worthy the representatives of a people great and flourishing in trade and navigation. This leads me to mention to you the case of Greenwich Hospital, that care may be taken, by some addition to that fund, to render comfortable and effectual that charitable provision for the support and maintenance of our seamen, worn out, and become decrepit by age and infirmities, in the service of their country. Speech, Jan. 27. 1727-8.
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