Oh let not then wafte luxury impair That manly foul of toil, which ftrings your nerves, Oh let not the foft, penetrating plague Creep on the free-born mind; and working there, 250 255 250 265 And the whole state in broad corruption finks. From you, ye heav'n-belov'd! may liberty, 270 275 280 Where ev'ry virtue fits, go copious forth Lo! now my fons, the fons of freedom! meet 290 Burn in the patriot's thought, flow from his tongue This faid; her fleeting form, and airy train, 295 |