When thou wouldst build; no quarry sent its stores And make thy marble of the glaffy wave. Cyrene, when he bore the plaintive tale In fuch a palace poetry might place The gloomy clouds, find weapons, arrowy fleet, And fnow that often blinds the trav'ler's course, Silently as a dream the fabric rofe ; No found of hammer or of saw was there: Ice upon ice, the well-adjusted parts Were foon conjoin'd; nor other cement ask'd Than water interfus'd to make them one. Lamps gracefully difpos'd, and of all hues, Illumin'd ev'ry fide: a wat'ry light Gleam'd through the clear transparency, that feem'd I Another moon new risen, or meteor fall'n From heav'n to earth, of lambent flame serene. For grandeur or for ufe. Long wavy wreaths (What feem'd at least commodious feat) were there, Sofa, and couch, and high-built throne august. The fame lubricity was found in all, And all was moift to the warm touch; a scene Of evanefcent glory, once a ftream, On human grandeur and the courts of kings, 'Twas tranfient in its nature, as in fhow. 'Twas durable; as worthless, as it feem'd Intrinsically precious; to the foot Treach'rous and false; it smil'd, and it was cold. Great princes have great playthings. Some have play'd Short-liv'd themselves, t' immortalize their bones. And make the forrows of mankind their sport. Are gratified with mischief; and who spoil, When Babel was confounded, and the great And equal; and he bade them dwell in peace. Peace was awhile their care: they plough'd, and sow'd, And reap'd their plenty, without grudge or ftrife. Than human paffions please. In ev'ry heart The deluge wash'd it out; but left unquench'd The feeds of murder in the breast of man. Soon, by a righteous judgment, in the line The firft artificer of death; the fhrewd Defire of more; and industry in fóme, T'improve and cultivate their juft demésñe, Made other's covet what they faw fo faif. Thus war began on earth: thefe fought for spoil, And thofe in felf-defence. Savage at first, |