POETRY. 961 



Wide o'er the expanse, as darts his radiant sight» 



At once the vanish'd ages roll in light. 



Old India's Genius, bursting from repose, 



Bids all his tombs their miglity dead -disci os-e ; 



Immortal names, though long immers'd in shade, 



Long lost to song, though destin'd not to fade. 



O'er all the master of the speil presides, 



Their march arranges, and tHJr oiilor guides ; 



Bids here or there their ranks or gleam or blaze 



With hues of elder or of Liter days. 



See, where in British robes sage Menu * shines, 



And willing Science opes her Sanscreet mines ! 



His are the triumphs of her ancient lyres, 



Her tragic sorrows, and her epic fires ; 



Her earliest arts, and learning's sacred store, 



And strains sublime of philosophic lore : 



Bright in his view their gather'd pomp appears, 



The treasiir'd wisdom of a thousand years. 



Oh, could my verse, in characters of day. 



The living colours of thy mind ponrtray. 



And on the sceptic, midst his impious dreams, 



Flash all the brightness of their miu'^led be;ims ! 



Then should he know, how talents various, bright, 



With pure Devotion's holy thoughts unite j 



And blush (if yet a blush survive) to see 



What genius, honour, virtue, ought to be. 



Philosopher, yet to no system tied ; 



patriot, yet friend to all the world beside ; 



Ardent with temper, and with judgment bold ; 



Firm, though not stern, and though correct, not cold; 



Profound to reason, or to charm us gay ; 



Learn'd without pride, and not too wise to pray. 



Such, too, was Cliainbers +, ever honour'd name ! 

 What needs the Muse to give thy worth to Fame. 

 To thee the nymphs of Eastern song display'd 

 The haunts of Hafiz in the Persian shade. 

 And early taught thy curiois steps to rove 

 Through Hejaz' bowers, or Yemen's odorous grove. 

 But holier fires illum'd thy favour'd breast, ' 

 With arts divine, and saintly virtues blest. 

 Alas ! those saintly virtues languish'd here. 

 And, worn with exile, sought their native sphere. 

 Nor long a brother's j, woes bedew'd thy urn, 

 Too soon by kindred fate forbid to mourn. 

 Oh, crown'd with learning, and rcfin'd by art, 

 The generous mind, tire uncorrupted heart I 



^ ^ In reference to Sir \V. Jones's celebrated translation of " The Institulips of 

 * Menu," the great Indian legislator. 



t Mr. William Chambers. t Sir Robert Chambers. 



VoA. XLVII. 3 Q Still V 



