Prudent Godolphin, of the nation's weal Frugal, but free and generous of his own. Next crowns the bowl; with faithful Sunderland, And Halifax, the Muses' darling son, In whom conspicuous, with full luster, shine The surest judgment and the brightest wit, Himself Mecaenas and a Flaccus too; And all the worthies of the British realm, In order rang'd succeed; such healths as tinge The dulcet wine with a more charming gust. Now each his mistress toasts, by whose bright eye He's fired; Cosmelia fair, or Dulcibell, Or Sylvia, comely black, with jetty eyes Piercing, or airy Celia, sprightly maid!-- Insensibly thus flow unnumber'd hours; Glass succeeds glass, till the Dircean god Shines in our eyes, and with his fulgent rays Enlightens our glad looks with lovely dye; All blithe and jolly, that like Arthur's knights Of Rotund Table, fam'd in old records, Now most we seem'd--such is the power of Wine. Thus we the winged hours in harmless mirth And joys unsullied pass, till humid Night Has half her race perform'd; now all abroad Is hush'd and silent, nor the rumbling noise Of coach, or cant, or smoky link-boy's call, Is heard--but universal silence reigns; When we in merry plight, airy and gay, Surpris'd to find the hours so swiftly fly, With hasty knock, or twang of pendant cord, Alarm the drowsy youth from slumbering nod: Startled he flies, and stumbles o'er the stairs Erroneous, and with busy knuckles plies His yet clung eyelids, and with staggering reel Enters confus'd, and muttering asks our wills; When we with liberal hand the score discharge, And homeward each his course with steady step Unerring steers, of cares and coin bereft. ODE ON SCIENCE. DEAN SWIFT. O, heavenly born! in deepest dells If fairer science ever dwells Beneath the mossy cave; Indulge the verdure of the woods, With azure beauty gild the floods, And flowery carpets lave. For, Melancholy ever reigns Delighted in the sylvan scenes With scientific light While Dian, huntress of the vales, Seeks lulling sounds and fanning gales Though wrapt from mortal sight Yet, goddess, yet the way explore With magic rites and heathen lore Obstructed and depress'd; Till Wisdom give the sacred Nine, Untaught, not uninspired, to shine By Reason's power redress'd. When Solon and Lycurgus taught To moralize the human thought Of mad opinion's maze, To erring zeal they gave new laws, Thy charms, O Liberty, the cause, That blends congenial rays. Bid bright Astraea gild the morn, Or bid a hundred suns be born, To hecatomb the year; Without thy aid, in vain the poles, In vain the zodiac system rolls, In vain the lunar sphere. Come, fairest princess of the throng; Bring sweet philosophy along, In metaphysic dreams: While raptured bards no more behold A vernal age of purer gold, In Heliconian streams.