Sylvæ, or, The second part of Poetical miscellanies

Vpon the late Ingenious Translation of PERE SIMON'S Cri••tical History, By H. D. Lsq

OF all Heavens Judgments that was sure th•• wor•• When our bold Fathers were at Babel curs•• Man, to whose race this glorious Orb was giv'n, Natures lov'd Darling, and the Joy of Heav'n,

Whose pow'rful voice the subject World obey'd, And God's were pleas'd with the discourse he made, He who before did ev'ry form excel, Beneath the most ignoble Creature fell: Ev'ry vile beast thro' the wide Earth can rove, And, where the sence invites, declare his love: Sounds Inarticulate move thro' all the race; And one short Language serves for ev'ry place: But, such a price did that presumption cost, That half our lives in trifling words are lost. Nor can their utmost force and power, express The Soul's Ideas in their Native dress. Knowledge, that godlike Orn'ment of the mind, To the small spot, where it is born's confind. But He, brave Youth, the toylsom Fate repeals, While his learn'd pen mysterious Truth reveals. So did, of old, the cloven Tongues descend; And Heav'ns Commands to ev'ry Ear extend.

And 'twas but just that all th'astonish'd throng Shou'd understand the Galileans Tongue. Gods sacred Law was for all Israel made; And, in plain terms, to ev'ry Tribe display'd. On Marble Pillars, his Almighty Hands In Letters large, writ the divine commands: But scarce they were so much in pieces broke When Moses wrath the people did provoke, As has the sacred cowl been torn and rent, T'explain what the Alwise Dictator meant. But now, t'our Egypt the great Prophet's come; And Eloquent Aaron tells the Joyful doom. From the worst slavery at last we'ar free'd, And shall no more, with stripes from error, bleed; The learned Simon has th' hard task subdu'd; And holy Tables the third time renew'd. Sinai be bless'd where was receiv'd the Law, That ought to keep the Rebel World in aw;

And bless'd be He that taught us to invoke God's awful Name, as God to Moses spoke. Nor do's he merit less, who cou'd so well From foreign Language his great dictates tell: In our cold clime the pregnant Soul lay hid; No virtual power mov'd the proly••ick seed, Till his kind genial heat preserv'd it warm; And to perfection wrought the noble form. Never did yet arive so vast a store Of solid Learning on the British shore: T'export it thence has been the greatest Trade; But He, at last, a full return has made. Raise up, ye tuneful Bards, your voices raise, And crown his Head with never dying praise: And all ye Nimrods mighty Sons rejoice, While ev'ry Workman knows the builders voice. ••n Shinars plain, the lofty Tow'r may rise, Till its vast Head sustain the bending skies:

In its own Nature Truth is so Divine, No sacred Pow'rs oppose this great design; So dark a veil obscur'd her rev'rend Head, The wisest Trav'lers knew not where to tread, Blind zeal and mad Enthusiasts shewd the way, While wand'ring Meteors led their Eyes astray; Thro' the dark Maze, without a Clue, they ran; And, at Best, ended where they first began: But now at last we'ar brought so near her Throne, At the next step the glorious Crown's our own.