POET R WY. (*161 
At length thy long-lost liberty regain, 
Tear the strong tie, and break th’ inglorious chain; 
Freed from false hopes, assume thy native pow’rs, 
And give to Reason’s rule thy future hours ; 
To her dominion yield thy trusting soul, 
And bind thy wishes to her strong control, 
‘Till love, the serpent that destroy’d thy rest, 
~ Crush’d by her hand; shall mourn his humbled crest: 
On the Death of Porrrran, occasioned by a fall from a Stair-Cases as he 
was playing on his Lute. 
AN ELEGY on the Death of his Friend Lorenzo vy’ Medtct ; 
by the same. 
HILST borne in sable state, Lorenzo’s bier 
The tyrant death his proudest triumph brings, 
He mark’d a bard in agony severe, 
Smite with delirious hand the sounding strings. 
He stopt, he gaz’d: the storm of passion rag’d ; 
And prayers with tears were mingled—tears with grief! 
For lost Lorenzo war with fate he wag’d ; 
And ev’ry god was call’d to his relief. 
The tyrant smil’d, and mindful of thé hour, 
When from the shades his consort Orpheus led-—- 
*€ Rebellious, too, wouldst thou usurp my pow’r, 
** And burst the chain that binds the captive bed ?”” 
. He spoke, and speaking, launch’d the shaft of fatey 
And clos’d the lips that glow’d with sacred fire ! 
His timeless doom ‘twas thus Politian met 
Politian master of th’ Ausonian lyre! 
Vor, XXXVII. {*L} Account 
