Spontaneous seem'd from fimple sense to flow,
And the plain patriot smooth'd the brow of law.
No specious swell, no frothy pomp of words
Fell on the cheated ear; no study'd maze
Of declamation, to perplex the right,
He dark'ning threw around: fafe in itself,
In its own force, all-pow'rful Reason spoke;
While on the great the ruling point, at once,
He stream'd decifive day, and show'd it vain
To lengthen farther out the clear debate.
Conviction breathes conviction; to the heart,
Pour'd ardent forth in eloquence unbid,
The heart attends: for let the Venal try
Their ev'ry hard'ning stupifying art,
Truth must prevail, zeal will enkindle zeal,
And Nature, skilful touch'd, is honest still.
Behold him in the councils of his prince. What faithful light he lends? How rare, in courts, Such wifdom! such abilities! and join'd
To virtue so determin'd, public zeal,
And honour of fuch adamantine proof,
As ev'n Corruption, hopeless, and o'er-aw'd,
Durst not have tempted! Yet of Manners mild,
And winning ev'ry heart, he knew to please,
Nobly to please; while equally he scorn'd
Or adulation to receive, or give.
Happy the state, where wakes a ruling eye
Of such infpection keen, and gen'ral care!
Beneath a guard so vigilant, so pure,
Toil may refign his careless head to rest,
And ever-jealous Freedom fleep in peace.
Ah! lost untimely! lost in downward days!
And many a patriot counsel with him loft !
Counsels, that might have humbled Britain's foe,
Her native foe, from eldest time by fate
Appointed, as did once a Talbot's arms.
Let learning, arts, let univerfal worth,
Lament a patron loft, a friend and judge.
Unlike the fons of vanity, that, veil'd
Beneath the patron's prostituted name,
Dare facrifice a worthy man to pride,
And flush confufion o'er an honest cheek.
When he conferr'd a grace, it feem'd a debt
Which he to merit, to the public, paid,
And to the great all-bounteous Source of good. 185
The gracious stream, that cheers the letter'd world,
Is not the noisy gift of fummer's noon,
Whose fudden current, from the naked root,
Washes the little foil which yet remain'd,
And only more dejects the blushing flow'rs :
No, 'tis the foft-descending dews at eve,
The filent treasures of the vernal year,
Indulging deep their stores, the still night long;
Till, with returning morn, the freshen'd world,
Is fragrance all, all beauty, joy, and fong.
Still let me view him in the pleasing light Of private life, where pomp forgets to glare, And where the plain unguarded foul is seen. There, with that truest greatness he appear'd, Which thinks not of appearing; kindly veil'd In the foft graces of the friendly scene, Inspiring social confidence and ease.
As free the converse of the wife and good,
As joyous, disentangling ev'ry pow'r,
And breathing mix'd improvement with delight,
As when amid the various-blossom'd spring,
Or gentle-beaming autumn's penfive shade,
The philofophie mind with nature talks.
Say ye, his Sons, his dear remains, with whom
The father laid fuperfluous state afide,
Yet rais'd your filial duty thence the more,
With friendship rais'd it, with esteem, with love,
Beyond the ties of blood, oh! speak the joy,
The pure ferene, the cheerful wisdom mild,
The virtuous spirit, which his vacant hours,
In femblance of amusement, thro' the breaft
Infus'd. And thou, O Rundle * ! lend thy strain,
Thou darling friend! thou brother of his foul!
In whom the head and heart their stores unite :
Whatever fancy paints, invention pours,
Judgment digests, the well-tun'd bosom feels,
Truth nat'ral, moral, or divine, has taught,
The Virtues dictate, or the Muses fing.
Lend me the plaint, which, to the lonely main,
With memory converfing, you will pour,
As on the pebbled shore you, penfive, stray,
Where Derry's mountains a bleak crescent form,
And mid their ample round receive the waves,
That from the frozen pole, resounding, rush,
Impetuous. Tho' from native fun-fhine driv'n,
Driv'n from your friends, the fun-fhine of the foul,
By fland'rous zeal, and politics infirm,
Jealous of worth; yet will you bless your lot,
Yet will you triumph in your glorious fate,
Whence Talbot's friendship glows to future times,
Intrepid, warm; of kindred tempers born;
Nurs'd, by experience, into flow esteem,
Calm confidence unbounded, love not blind,
And the sweet light from mingled minds disclos'd, 245
From mingled chymic oils as bursts the fire.
I too remember well that cheerful bowl, Which round his table flow'd. The serious there Mix'd with the sportive, with the learn'd the plain; Mirth soften'd wisdom, candour temper'd mirth; 250 And wit its honey lent, without the sting. Not simple nature's unaffected fons, The blameless Indians, round their forest-cheer, In funny lawn or fhady covert fet, Hold more unspotted converse: nor, of old, Rome's awful confuls, her dictator-fwains, As on the product of their Sabine farms They far'd, with stricter virtue fed the foul: Nor yet in Athens, at an Attic meal, Where Socrates presided, fairer truth,
More elegant humanity, more grace,
Wit more refin'd, or deepér science reign'd.
But far beyond the little wulgar bounds
Of family, or friends, or native land,
By just degrees, and with proportion'd flame,
Extended his benevolence: a friend
To human-kind, to parent Nature's works.
Of free access, and of engaging grace,
Such as a brother to a brother owes,
He kept an open judging ear for all,
And spread an open countenance, where smil'd
The fair effulgence of an open heart;
While on the rich, the poor, the high, the low,
With equal ray, his ready goodness shone :
For nothing human foreign was to him.
Thus to a dread inheritance, my Lord, And hard to be supported, you fucceed : But, kept by virtue, as by virtue gain'd, It will, thro' latest time, enrich your race, When groffer wealth shall moulder into dust, And with their authors in oblivion funk Vain titles lie, the servile badges oft Of mean fubmiffion, not the meed of worth. True genuine honour its large patent holds Of all mankind, thro' ev'ry land and age, Of universal Reason's various fons, And ev'n of God himself, fole perfect Judge ! Yet know these noblest honours of the mind On rigid terms descend: the high-plac'd heir, Scann'd by the public eye, that, with keen gaze, 290 Malignant feeks out faults, cannot thro' life,
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