Swift o'er the land the fair contagion flew, And with thy country's hopes thy honours grew. 100 Thee, patriot, the patrician roof confess'd; Thy powerful voice the rescued merchant bless'd; Of thee with awe the rural hearth resounds; The bowl to thee the grateful sailor crowns; Touch'd in the sighing shade with manlier fires, To trace thy steps the love-sick youth aspires; The learn'd recluse, who oft amazed had read Of Grecian heroes, Roman patriots dead, With new amazement hears a living name Pretend to share in such forgotten fame; 110 And he who, scorning courts and courtly ways, Left the tame track of these dejected days, The life of nobler ages to renew In virtues sacred from a monarch's view, Roused by thy labours from the bless'd retreat, Where social ease and public passions meet, Again ascending treads the civil scene, To act and be a man, as thou hadst been. Thus by degrees thy cause superior grew, And the great end appear'd at last in view: 120 We heard the people in thy hopes rejoice, We saw the senate bending to thy voice; The friends of freedom hail'd the approaching reign Of laws for which our fathers bled in vain; While venal Faction, struck with new dismay, Shrunk at their frown, and self-abandon'd lay. Waked in the shock the public Genius rose, Abash'd and keener from his long repose; Sublime in ancient pride, he raised the spear Which slaves and tyrants long were wont to fear; 130 The city felt his call: from man to man, From street to street, the glorious horror ran; Each crowded haunt was stirr'd beneath his power, And, murmuring, challenged the deciding hour. Lo! the deciding hour at last appears; The hour of every freeman's hopes and fears! Thou, Genius! guardian of the Roman name, O ever prompt tyrannic rage to tame! Instruct the mighty moments as they roll, And guide each movement steady to the goal. 140 Ye spirits by whose providential art Succeeding motives turn the changeful heart, Keep, keep the best in view to Curio's mind, And watch his fancy, and his passions bind! Ye shades immortal, who by Freedom led, Or in the field or on the scaffold bled, Bend from your radiant seats a joyful eye, And view the crown of all your labours nigh. See Freedom mounting her eternal throne! The sword submitted, and the laws her own: 150 See! public Power chastised beneath her stands, With eyes intent, and uncorrupted hands! See private Life by wisest arts reclaim'd! See ardent youth to noblest manners framed! See us acquire whate'er was sought by you, If Curio, only Curio will be true.