154 » Effay on Majfmger. 



So high upon the pinnacles of ilate. 



That I mud either keep my height with danger. 



Or fall with certain ruin. 



We might walk 



In folitary groves, or in choice gardens; 



From the variety of curious flowers 



Contemplate nature's workmanftiip, and wonders; 



And then, for change, near to the murmurs of 



Some bubbling fountain, I might hear you fing. 



And from the well-tun'd accents of your tongue 



In my imagination conceive 



With what melodious harmony a quire 



Of angels, fing, above, their Maker's praifes. 



And then with chaile difcourfe, as we return'd. 



Imp feathers to the broken wings of Time. 



. Walk into 



The filent groves, and hear the am'rous birds 

 Warbling their wanton notes ; here a fure fhade 

 Of barren fycamores, which th' all-feeing fun 

 Could not pierce through ; near that, an arbour hung 

 With fpreading eglantine ; there a bubbling fpring 

 Wat'ring a bank of hyacinths and lilies. 



Great Duke of Florence. 



Let us oppofc to thefe peaceful and inglorious 

 images, the pi6lure of a triumph by the fame 

 mafterly hand ; 



.- . When (he views you. 



Like a triumphant conqueror, carried through 

 The ftreets of Syracufa, the glad people 

 Prefling to meet you, and the fenators 

 Conteiding who ftiall heap mod honours on you ; 

 The oxen crown'd with garlands led before you 

 Appointed for the facrifice ; and the altars 

 Smoking with thankful incenfe to the gods. 



The 



