A long, long journey, choak'd with brakes and thorns,
Ill-meafur'd by ten thousand barley-corns.

Tir'd out at length, a spreading stream he spy'd,
Fed by old Thame, a daughter of the tide:
'Twas then a spreading ftream; though now it's fame
Obfcur'd, it bears the creek's inglorious name,
And creeps, as through contracted bounds it strays,
A leap for boys in these degenerate days.

On the clear chryftal's verdant bank he stood,
And thrice look'd backward on the fatal wood,
And thrice he groan'd, and thrice he beat his breast,
And thus in tears his kindred gods address'd.

If true, ye wat'ry pow'rs, my lineage came
• From Neptune mingling with a mortal dame ;
• Down to his court, with coral garlands crown'd,
Through all your grottos waft my plaintive found,
And urge the god, whose trident shakes the earth,
To grace his offspring, and affert my birth.'
He faid. A gentle Naïad heard his pray'r;
And, touch'd with pity for a lover's care,
Shoots to the fea, where, low beneath the tides,
Old Neptune in th' unfathom'd depth refides.
Rouz'd at the news, the fea's ftern fultan fwore
Revenge, and scarce from prefent arms forbore;
But firft the nymph his harbinger he fends,

And to her care his fav'rite boy commends,

As through the Thames her backward courfe fhe guides,

Driven up his current by the refluent tides,

Along his banks the pigmy legions fpread

She fpies, and haughty Oriel at their head.

Soon with wrong'd Albion's name the host she fires,

And counts the ocean's god among his fires ;

The ocean's god, by whom fhall be o'erthrown

(Styx heard his oath) the tyrant Oberon.
See here, beneath a toad-ftool's deadly gloom,
Lies Albion: him the fates your leader doom.

Hear, and obey; 'tis Neptune's pow'rful call;

By him Azuriel and his king shall fall.'

She faid. They bow'd; and on their shield upbore,

With fhouts, their new-faluted emperor.

E'en Oriel fmil'd: at least, to smile he ftrove,
And hopes of vengeance triumph'd over love.

See now the mourner of the lonely shade,
By gods protected, and by hofts obey'd;
A flave, a chief, by fickle Fortune's play,
In the fhort courfe of one revolving day.
What wonder if the youth, fo ftrangely blefs'd,
Felt his heart flutter in his little breast!
His thick-embattled troops, with fecret pride,
He views extended half an acre wide;

More fight he treads, more tall he seems to rise,
And struts a straw-breadth nearer to the skies.

O for thy Mufe, great bard, whofe lofty ftrains
In battle join'd the Pygmies and the Cranes!
Each gaudy knight, had I that warmth divine,
Each colour'd legion in my verse should shine.
But fimple I, and innocent of art,

The tale, that footh'd my infant years, impart ;
The tale I heard whole winter eves, untir'd,
And fing the battles that my nurse inspir’d.

Now the fhrill corn-pipes, echoing loud to arms,
To rank and file reduce the straggling fwarms :
Thick rows of spears at once, with fudden glare,
A grove of needles, glitter in the air;
Loofe in the wind small ribband streamers flow,
Dipp'd in all colours of the heav'nly bow;
And the gay hoft, that now it's march pursues,
Gleams o'er the meadows in a thousand hues.
On Buda's plains, thus formidably bright,
Shone Afia's fons, a pleasing, dreadful fight.

Mr. Addifon.

In various robes their filken troops were seen,
The blue, the red, and prophet's facred green :
When blooming Brunswick, near the Danube's flood,
Firft ftain'd his maiden fword in Turkish blood.
Unfeen and filent march the flow brigades,
Through pathlefs wilds, and unfrequented flades.
In hopes already vanquish'd by furprize,
In Albion's pow'r the fairy empire lies;
Already has he seiz'd on Kenna's charms,
And the glad beauty trembles in his arms.

The march concludes; and now, in prospect near,
But fenc'd with arms, the hoftile tow'rs appear;
For Oberon, or Druids falfely fing,

Wore his prime-vizier in a magick ring:
A fubtle sprite, that opening plots foretold,
By fudden dimness on the beamy gold.

Hence, in a crefcent form'd, his legions bright,
With beating bofoms, waited for the fight;

To charge their foes they march, a glitt'ring band,
And in their van doth bold Azuriel stand.

What rage that hour did Albion's foul poffefs,
Let chiefs imagine, and let lovers guess!
Forth iffuing from his ranks, that strove in vain
To check his course, athwart the dreadful plain
He ftrides indignant; and, with haughty cries,
To fingle fight the fairy prince defies.

Forbear, rafh youth, th' unequal war to try;
Nor, fprung from mortals, with immortals vie.
No god ftands ready to avert thy doom,

Nor yet thy grandfire of the waves is come.'

My words are vain--no words the wretch can move,
By beauty dazzled, and bewitch'd by love:
He longs, he burns, to win the glorious prize;

And fees no danger, while he fees her eyes.
Now from each hoft the eager warriors start,

And furious Albion flings his hafty dart:

'Twas

'Twas feather'd from the bee's transparent wing, And it's fhaft ended in a hornet's fting;

But, tofs'd in rage, it flew without a wound,
High o'er the foe, and guiltless pierc'd the ground.
Not fo Azuriel's: with unerring aim,

Too near the needle-pointed jav'lin came,
Drove through the seven-fold fhield and filken veft,
And lightly ras'd the lover's ivory breast.
Rouz'd at the smart, and rifing to the blow,
With his keen fword he cleaves his fairy foe;
Sheer from the fhoulder to the waift he cleaves,
And of one arm the tott'ring trunk bereaves.

His ufelefs fteel brave Albion wields no more,
But fternly fmiles, and thinks the combat o'er;
So had it been, had aught of mortal ftrain,
Or less than fairy felt the deadly pain.
But empyreal forms, howe'er in fight
Gafh'd and difmember'd, eafily unite.
As fome frail cup of China's pureft mold,
With azure varnish'd, and bedrop'd with gold,
Tho' broke, if cur'd by fome nice virgin's hands,
In it's old ftrength and pristine beauty ftands;
The tumults of the boiling Bohea braves,
And holds fecure the coffee's fable waves:
So did Azuriel's arm, if fame fay true,
Rejoin the vital trunk whence first it grew ;
And, whilft in wonder fix'd poor Albion ftood,
Plung'd the curs'd fabre in his heart's warm blood,
The golden broidery tender Milkah wove,
The breaft to Kenna facred and to love,

Lie rent and mangled; and the gaping wound
Pours out a flood of purple on the ground.
The jetty luftre fickens in his eyes ;
On his cold cheeks the bloomy freshness dies:
Oh, Kenna, Kenna!' thrice he try'd to fay;
• Kenna, farewel!' and figh'd his foul away.

T

His fall the Dryads with loud fhrieks deplore,
By fifter Naïads echo'd from the shore;
Thence down to Neptune's fecret realms convey'd,
Through grots, and glooms, and many a coral fhade.
The fea's great fire, with looks denouncing war,
The trident shakes, and mounts the pearly car:
With one ftern frown the wide-spread deep deforms,
And works the madding ocean into storms.

O'er foaming mountains, and through burfting tides,
Now high, now low, the bounding chariot rides,
Till through the Thames in a loud whirlwind's roar
It fhoots, and lands him on the deftin'd fhore.

Now fix'd on earth his tow'ring ftature ftood,
Hung o'er the mountains, and o'erlook'd the wood.
To Brumpton's grove one ample ftride he took,
(The vallies trembled, and the forefts fhook ;)
The next huge step reach'd the devoted fhade,.
Where choak'd in blood was wretched Albion laid
Where now the vanquish'd, with the victors join'd,
Beneath the regal banners ftood combin'd.

Th' embattled dwarfs with rage and scorn he pass'd,
And on their town his eye vindictive caft.
It's deep foundations his long trident cleaves,
And high in air th' up-rooted empire heaves;
On his broad engine the vast ruin hung,
Which on the foe with force divine he flung:
Aghaft the legions in th' approaching shade,
Th' inverted fpires and rocking domes furvey'd,
That downward tumbling on the hoft below,
Crush'd the whole nation at one dreadful blow.
Tow'rs, arms, nymphs, warriors, are together loft,
And a whole empire falls to foothe fad Albion's ghost.
Such was the period, long reftrain'd by Fate,

And fuch the downfal of the fairy state.

This dale, a pleafing region, not unblefs'd,
This dale poffefs'd they; and had ftill poffefs'd,

Had