With rival force, see Copley's pencil trace The air of action and the charms of face. Fair in his tints unfold the scenes of state, The senate listens and the peers debate; Pale consternation every heart appals, In act to speak, when death-struck Chatham fails. He bids dread Calpe cease to shake the waves, While Elliott's arm the host of Bourbon saves; O'er sail-wing'd batteries sinking in the flood, Mid flames and darkness, drench'd in hostile blood, Britannia's sons extend their generous hand To rescue foes from death, and bear them to the land. Fired with the martial deeds that bathed in gore His brave companions on his native shore, Trumbull with daring hand their fame recals; He shades with night Quebec's beleagured walls, Thro flashing flames, that midnight war supplies, The assailants yield, their great Montgomery dies. On Bunker height, thro floods of hostile fire, His Putnam toils till all the troops retire, His Warren, pierced with balls, at last lies low, And leaves a victory to the wasted foe. Britannia too his glowing tint shall claim, To pour new splendor on her Calpean fame; He leads her bold sortie, and from their towers O'erturns the Gallic and Iberian powers. See rural seats of innocence and ease, High tufted towers and walks of waving trees, The white wates dashing on the Craggy shores, Meandring streams and meads of mingled flowers, Where nature's sons their wild excursions tread, In just design from Taylor's pencil spread. Stuart and Brown the moving portrait raise, Each rival stroke the force of life conveys; Heroes and beauties round their tablets stand, And rise unfading from their plastic hand; Each breathing form preserves its wonted grace, And all the Soul stands speaking in the face. Two kindred arts the swelling statue heave, Wake the dead wax, and teach the stone to live. While the bold chissel claims the rugged strife, To rouse the sceptred marble into life, See Wright's fair hands the livelier fire control, In waxen forms she breathes impassion'd soul; The pencil'd tint o'er moulded substance glows, And different powers the peerless art compose. Grief, rage and fear beneath her fingers start, Roll the wild eye and pour the bursting heart; The world's dead fathers wait her wakening call; And distant ages fill the storied hall. To equal fame ascends thy tuneful throng, The boast of genius and the pride of song; Caught from the cast of every age and clime, Their lays shall triumph o'er the lapse of time.