O fpeak, refulgent Parent of the Day!
With beamy Eye who doft the Globe furvey;
Thou radiant Source of Wits diviner Fire!
Thou trueft Judge of what thou do'ft infpire!
Say, haft thou seen in any Age, or Clime,
Since thy bright Race began to measure Time,
So great a Genius rife? In ev'ry Part
So form'd by Nature, finifh'd fo by Art?
Such manly Senfe, with fo much fire of Mind? Judgment fo ftrong, to Wit fo lively join'd? No Prepoffeffion fway'd his equal Soul, Steady to Truth fhe pointed as her Pole : Convinc'd of varying in the leaft Degrees, Her pliant Index fhe reclaim'd with Eafe. Early thro' Cuftom's and Prescription's Yoke, Tyrants of weaker Souls, his Reafon broke.. Good Senfe revering from the meaneft Hand, He durft Authority in Robes withstand.
Determin'd always on maturer Thought; Still by new Reafons, to new Measures brought; Firm, but not Stubborn; Thoughtful, not Involv'd; Swift to perform what flowly he refoly❜d.
No Tempefts rag'd within his peaceful Breaft, Where kindling Paffion, Reason foon fuppreft.
Midft all Events his Firmnefs he maintain'd,
Strugled with great, but flighter Ills difdain'd;'
Thus what Philofophers could only preach,
His inborn Virtue did in Practice reach.
Nature defign'd him Mafter of Addrefs;
None knew it more, nor feem'd to know it lefs.
It work'd like Magick on your yielding Heart,
Sure was the Charm, but fecret was the Art.
In Human Nature moft exactly learn'd,
The artful Man he through his Masque difcern'd.
With chofen Baits that every Temper take,
He knew of Knave or Fool good Use to make.
His eafie Breeding, free from Forms and Rules, That ftiffen the Civility of Fools,
Of various Turn, for all Occafions fit,
Was fquar'd with Judgment, and well touch'd with Wit.
Free of Accefs, from Affectation clean,
Great without Pride, nor when familiar, Mean.
Obliging always with good-natur'd Sense,
Nor apt to give, nor apt to take Offence.
Nor fond when kind, nor harfh when most feyere,
Betwixt extreams he justly knew to fteer.
In Converfation wond'rous was his Art To guard his own, and fift another's Heart,
To Mirth and. Wit he led the chearful Way,
Referv'dly Open and difcreetly Gay;
Nor could the fofteft Hour his fecret Soul betray.
Bright as the Youngeft, as the Oldest Wise,
In both Extreams, alike he gave Surprize.
In Body active, yet his fprightly Mind
Within that Body felt her felf confin'd..
When Thoughts important claim'd no longer Place,
Then Building, Planting, and the speedy Race,
Paintings and Books, fucceffive took their Round,
No Blanks of Time were in his Journal found..
Skill'd in the Ends of his Existence, he
To be unuseful, thought was not to be.
Polite his Tafte of Arts, but vain was Art
Where Nature had fo greatly done her Part.
Through tiresome Mediums we at Truth arrive;
His eafie Knowledge feem'd Intuitive..
No copy'd Beauties meanly form'd his Mind,
By Heav'n a great Original defign'd.
The Seeds of Science in his Blood were fown,
Born with Philofophy, 'twas all his own..
Nor Bribes nor Threatnings could his Żeal abate
To ferve his Country, and avert her Fate.
Firm to her Laws and Liberties he stood,.
Submitting private Views to publick Good.
Who could Obfequious with the Current swim,
Whigs might be call'd, but Tories were to him.
Persons or Parties he no longer knew,
When fwerving once from Honest, Just, and True.
Oft has he ftem'd the Rage of Impious Times,
When Patriots Virtues bore the Brand of Crimes.
To check proud Tyrants born, and Factions awe,
But most devoted to good Kings and Law.
Twice his dear Country was on Ruin's Brink,
Refolv'd to fave her, or with her to fink,
His brave Attempts fuccessful twice he saw,
Once in Wife BRUNSWICK, once in Great Naffau.
No bolder Champion in Religion's Caufe;
None fought more Battles, nor with more Applause.
To Arms he flew as Danger prefs'd her Home,
And snatch'd the hopeless Prey from France and Rome.
But as from Confcience pure, Religion springs,
He Freedom press'd'in Uneffential Things.
Coercive Laws, he rightly understood,
Might make Men Hypocrites, but never good.
All genuine Virtue is by Nature free;
And will, when forc'd, no longer Virtue be.
Who justly would his Eloquence declare, Himself muft WHARTON's fertile Genius fhare.. Would you conceive it? See how o'er the Sands Fair Thames adyances where Augufta stands.
Gentle he flows, but with resistless Force,
Not like the rapid Rhone's impetuous Course;
Tho' deep, fo clear are his tranfparent Streams,
His Bottom rifing to his Surface feems.
His polish'd Face reflecting as he glides;
Each beauteous Object that adorns his Sides.
Inverted, here we view old Lambeth's Towers,
And there, O Fate! our late* Macena's Bowers.
Shifting his Features ftill, with each Remove
Now He a Palace feems, and nów a Grove.
Full is his spreading Current, but restrain'd,
And still within the flow'ry Banks contain’d.
Alternate Wealth his varying Tides unfold,
Ebbing he brings us Bread, and flowing, Gold,
Flow, fweeteft River! ftill thy Courfe prolong!
Thus deep and clear, thus gentle, full and strong,
That diftant Ages may the Image fee,
Of WHARTON's finish'd Eloquence in thee.
So fhall no Torrents foil thy Chrystal Streamf,
Thou Patriots Emblem, and thou Poets Theme!
Ye Nobles who furround the British Throne, Reflect its Luftre, and improve your own; You who refemble, in rich Robes of State, That Majefty Auguft on which you wait, Witnefs how often his decifive Senfe,
Marquis of Halifax's Garden.
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