ODE

I.

T O hazardous Attempts and hardy Toils,
Ambition some excites;
And some, desire of Martial Spoils
To bloody Fields invites;
Others, insatiate Thirst of Gain
Provokes to tempt the dangerous Main,
To pass the burning Line, and bear
Th' Inclemency of Winds, and Seas and Air:
Pressing the doubtful Voy'ge 'til I NDIA'S Shore
Her spicy Bosom bares, and spreads her shining Ore.

II.

Nor Widows Tears, nor tender Orphans Cries,
Can stop th' Invader's Force;
Nor swelling Seas, nor threatning Skies,
Prevent the Pirate's Course:
Their Lives to selfish Ends decreed,
Thro' Blood or Rapine they proceed;
No anxious Thoughts of ill Repute
Suspend th' impetuous and unjust Pursuit:
But Pow'r and Wealth obtain'd, guilty and great,
Their Fellow-Creatures Fears they raise, or urge their Hate.

III.

But not for these, his Iv'ry Lyre
Will tuneful Phaebus string,
Nor Polyhymnia crown'd amid the Choir
Th' immortal Epode sing.
Thy Springs, Castalia , turn their Streams aside
From Rapine, Avarice, and Pride;
Nor do thy Greens, shady Aonia , grow,
To bind with Wreaths a Tyrant 's Brow.

I.

How just, most mighty Jove , yet how severe
Is thy supreme Decree,
That impious Men shall joyless hear
The Muses Harmony!
Their sacred Songs, (the Recompence
Of Virtue and of Innocence)
Which pious Minds to Rapture raise,
And worthy Deeds at once excite and praise,
To guilty Hearts afford no kind Relief;
But add inflaming Rage, and more afflicting Grief.

II.

Monstrous Typhaeus , thus, new Terrors fill,
He, who assail'd the Skies,
And now, beneath the burning HIll
Of dreadful Ætna lies.
Hearing the Lyre's Celestial Sound,
He bellows in th' Abyss profound;
Sicilia trembles at his Roar,
Tremble the Seas, and far Campania 's Shore;
While all his hundred Mouths, at once expire
Volumes of curling Smoke, and Floods of liquid Fire.

III.

From Heav'n alone, all Good proceeds;
To heav'nly Minds belong
All Pow'r and Love, G ODOLPHIN , of good Deeds,
And Sense of Sacred Song!
And thus, most pleasing are the Muse's Lays
To them who merit most her Praise;
Wherefore, for thee, her Iv'ry Lyre she strings,
And soars with Rapture while she sings.

I.

Whether, Affairs of most important Weight
Require thy aiding Hand,
And ANNA 's Cause and Europe 's Fate
Thy serious Thoughts demand;
Whether, thy Days and Nights are spent
In Cares, on Publick Good intent;
Or, whether, leisure Hours invite
To manly Sports, or to refin'd Delight;
In Courts residing, or to Plains retir'd,
Where gen'rous Steeds contest, with Emulation fir'd:

II.

Thee still she seeks, and tuneful sings thy Name,
As once she Theron sung,
While with the deathless Worthy's Fame
Olympian Pisa rung:
Nor less Sublime, is now, her Choice,
Nor less inspir'd by thee, her Voice,
And now, she loves aloft to sound
The Man for more than Mortal Deeds renown'd:
Vary'ing anon her Theme, she takes Delight
The swift-heel'd Horse to praise, and sing his rapid Flight.

And see! the Air-born Racers start,
Impatient of the Rein;
Faster they run, than flies the Scythian Dart,
Nor passing, print the Plain!
The Winds themselves who with their Swiftness vye,
In vain their airy Pinions ply;
So far in matchless Speed, thy Coursers pass
Th' Ætherial Authors of their Race.

I.

And now, a while, the well-strain'd Coursers breathe;
And now, my Muse, prepare
Of Olive Leaves a twisted Wreath
To bind the Victor's Hair.
Pallas , in Care of Human kind,
The fruitful Olive first design'd;
Deep in the Glebe her Spear she lanc'd,
When all at once, the laden Boughs advanc'd;
The Gods with Wonder view'd the teeming Earth,
And all, with one Consent, approv'd the beauteous Birth.

II.

This done, Earth-shaking Neptune next essay'd,
In Bounty to the World,
To emulate the blue-ey'd Maid;
And his huge Trident hurl'd
Against the founding Beach; the Stroke
Transfix'd the Globe, and open broke
The Central Earth, whence swift as Light
Forth rush'd the first-born Horse. Stupendous Sight!
Neptune , for human Good the Beast ordains,
Whom soon he tam'd to Use, and taught to hear the Reins .

III.

Thus Gods contended, (noble Strife!
Worthy the heav'nly Mind)
Who most should do to soften anxious Life,
And most endear Mankind.
Thus, thou G ODOLPHIN , dost with M ARLBRÔ strive,
From whose joint Toils we Rest derive:
Triumph in Wars abroad his Arm assures,
Sweet Peace at home thy Care secures.