in the world. This had no effect; he kept on writing his poem, and sent it piece after piece by the post.

Sometime after, a breach occurred between him and Franklin, the occasion of which is related in the memoirs of the latter. No further particulars are known of him except that he became a political writer, and was patronized by some distinguished persons in public affairs. He wrote a poem called Sawney, very abusive, according to Warburton, of Swift, Gay, and Pope, for which he was put into the Dunciad. Another poem of his, entitled "Night," is mentioned in the notes to Pope. We have never seen either of these perform

ances.

The work which he wrote upon his first arrival in England, and got Franklin to correct for him, was probably Zeuma, or the Love of Liberty, printed in London in 1729. This is an heroic poem in three books in blank verse, which celebrates the resistance of a fabulous South American chieftain against the Spanish invaders. The story has little merit on the score of invention, and is executed in a style sufficiently negligent. Warburton vilifies Ralph as a person totally illiterate, and we should judge by this production of his early years, that he had not formed his taste by a very careful study. Still there is something of a poetical spirit about him.

ZEUMA, OR THE LOVE OF LIBERTY.

FROM THE FIRST BOOK.

BEYOND the vast Peruvian.realms, whose wealth
Supports the Iberian throne, and freights whole fleets
To Europe's hostile strand; a wond'rous ridge
Of cumb❜rous hills, vast, huge, and piled abrupt,
Ascend above the clouds, and bound the view
From sky to sky; aloft bleak winter holds
Eternal reign, and from the mountain's brow,
All cover'd o'er with ice, and white with snow,
Looks hideous down, breathes out his chilling gales,
And the sad wand'rer freezes to the ground,
A ghastly statue, with the dread of death,
Still graved upon his face; sometimes he bids
The whirlwinds roar, and with destruction wing'd

Impels it on the realms below, and oft,

Assembling clouds on clouds, draws o'er the world
A midnight darkness; and with sudden gush

Pours down the rain in dreadful showers, and drowns
The hope of harvest on the field. Where ends
This rocky chain, succeeds a dreary length
Of barren sands, torn up by every wind,
·And roll'd in heaps, like the vex'd billows
On the stormy main: around, a frightful, wild,
And horrid prospect, tires the lab'ring eye
In gazing for its end. No vernal green
E'er cheers the yellow waste; no bubbling spring
Its cooling azure rolls along; no rains,
Nor kindly dews refresh the burning soil:
But nature looks as crumbled into dust;
And ruin, sole possessor of the void.

Yet on the sterile desert's utmost verge,
And the rude mountain's skirt, the Spaniards found
A land of plenty, where enlivening Spring
And fruitful Autumn, with alternate change,
Rejoiced the year; where wealth immense (the hope
And end of all their execrable deeds,)

Was found in earth's dark womb, and every joy
Invited their abode. Such Peru was;

And when, subjected to their arms, its tribes
Became the vassals of their power, athwart
This ridge of mountains they pursued
Their way to conquest, and in Chili's realms,
Resolved to fix their arbitrary rule,

Though death in all its horrid forms opposed
Their common toil, and not a soul return'd
In safety from the war. There Zeuma reign'd,
A prince, who in the opening bloom of youth,
Preferr'd his country's welfare to his own.

Once, as with ardent zeal he urged the chase,
And press'd, with matchless swiftness, to secure
His frighted prey, through the thick wood, from far
He spied, low-bending o'er the limpid stream,
An aged hermit; who seem'd wrapp'd in thought
And solitary muse; behind him, arch'd
By nature in the hollow rock, appear'd
A gloomy cave, o'ergrown with moss, his calm
Abode; above, with difficult ascent,

Arose the hill, with vivid verdure crown'd;
Around, the forest spread its grateful shade,

And gently murmur'd to the gale; beneath,
Spontaneous flowers adorn'd the grassy turf,
And sweeten'd every breeze: long gazed the king
On the enchanting scene, and wonder'd much
It had till then escaped his haunt; when, waked
By his approaching step, the father rose,
And with meek rev'rence thus began.
""Tis not,
Great prince, by accident you've stray'd to this
Sequester'd place, but by divine decree;

That you may know what instant dangers threat
Your rule, what miseries your realms;
That no surprise enervate your resolves
When war alarms you to the field; no dread
Of stranger nations, or unusual arms
Confuse the combat, and in foul retreat
Disperse your routed squadrons o'er the plain."
He said, and led him, by a winding way,

To the high brow of that delightful hill,

And bid him view the prospect round. He look'd,
And lo! the whole world's globe seem'd stretch'd along
Before his view, so far the landscape reach'd,

So many objects crowded on the eye;
On this side cities stand, and forests wave,
Green fields extend, and gentle rivers glide;
O'erhanging precipices frown, and hills
Ascend on high: on this the white sea foams,
And on the nearer shores, with speedy roll,
Breaks wide its hasty billows. Zeuma starts
At the surprising roar, yet still intent,

Beholds the restless wave, when, new and strange!
High tossing on the angry surge appear

Vast floating piles, that with capacious wings

Collect the breathing gale, and by degrees

Approach the strand; with thund'ring voice discharge
Huge streams of ruddy flame, in cloudy smoke
Involved, and fright the nations round. Again
The monarch starts, astonish'd at the noise,
While, down their steepy sides, descend a throng
Of bearded men, of foreign look and mien;
That brighten'd o'er the plain with shining arms,
And all the pomp of war. To them succeeds

An herd of creatures, fierce and active, train'd

To battle, and the din of arms; on which
The warriors mounting, all proceed, in firm
And regular array, across the field;

Then sound a charge; and o'er the tranquil glebe
Let loose destruction, and with slaughter glut

The sword; with dire oppressive force, and stern
Dominion fix their barb'rous rule, and lord
It o'er the groaning tribes. With horror struck,
Sad Zeuma overlook'd the scene, and mourn'd
The dire event: when thus the hoary sage
His lore renew'd. "These are the foes that now
Are marching to invade your land; and such
The ills that must afflict your tribes; see o'er
Yon ridge of hills, contemning all the force
Of freezing cold, and wintry gales, they pass
Unwearied with the toil: then haste away,
Alarm your people, and with princely care
Draw all your squadrons to the field. If aught
Of doubt yet hangs upon your mind,
Again survey the landscape, and believe
My mission from above." He look'd, and all
Th' illusive prospect vanish'd from the view,
And nought remain'd, but one vast length of wood,
That murm'ring bow'd before the wanton gale.
So, where the setting sun, with upward ray
Adorns the evening clouds in fleecy gold,
And purple deeply dyed, th' attentive eye,
With wonder, views a maze of objects dawn
In bright confusion o'er the blue sky's edge,
And with a round of never ceasing change
Perplex the doubtful scene, till night's deep shade,
Ascending swiftly, darkens o'er the heavens,
And in grey vapors sweeps the whole away.

-He said; and, turning swiftly round, began
His solemn charms; when sudden darkness veil'd
The starry skies, and hollow murm'ring gales
Sung dreadful in the trees; red meteors flash'd
Along the troubled air; and, from beneath,

Loud inbred thunders shook the steadfast earth;
Unnumber'd ghosts, all pale with hostile wounds,
Stalk'd o'er the green, and fill'd the night's dark gloom
With ghastly terror and distracting groans:
Silence succeeds, vanish the ghosts away,
And earth no longer shakes; the lab'ring clouds
Unveil'd the heavens, and, in their stony caves,
The slumb'ring winds their weary pinions rest.
Then sleep's still influence seized the drowsy king,
And down he sunk, unable to resist

The pressing weight of the prevailing god:
But inspiration waked his inward powers,
And roused light fancy, in her thousand forms,
To strike the wond'rous vision on the mind.

First his great father's shade, with glory crown'd,
Descends, and, through the fluid realms of air,
Bears the young monarch, swift as tempests fly
When the grim ruler of the raging winds,
Drives down their fury o'er the Atlantic seas,
And, in a moment, to the farthest verge
Of the vex'd ocean, heaps the roaring waves.
The crystal gates of Cynthia's silver orb
Unfold, and, up the portals' bright ascent,
The rev'rend guardian leads his earthly charge
Entranced in raptures; when the glorious scene,
To his attentive view, unveil'd its charms:
For there soft pleasures, in eternal rounds,
For ever circle with an easy wing;

All that the realms of either India boast,
Or Afric's regions, or Europa's lands,

By turns delight the happy tribes, and more,

Ten thousand more, than man's experience knows,
Or fancy forms, maintain eternal rule,

And bless the immortals with continual joy.

Music, through every shade sweet warbling breathes Soft gladness on the soul; the dulcet voice Attempers the respondent lyre.

-Eternal verdure cheers the gladsome green,
And odorous flowers, for ever blooming, waft
Unfading sweets, and fume the wanton gale:
From the slope hills, descend the trickling streams,
And, through the fruitful vales, o'er sands of gold,
In gentle currents, smoothly roll along;

The mountain's brow with tufted woods is crown'd,
With sparkling gems the silent grot's emblazed,
And luscious plenty gladdens every field:
No wintry snows, or summer suns infest
The blissful climes, nor war's destructive rage
Lays waste the regions, and deforms the plain;
But heaven-born love and everlasting spring
Dance hand in hand, and lead the smiling hours,
All gay with newborn happiness and joy.

Through spicy forests, and through flowery fields, The sweet abode of souls for ever bless'd!