TO HER GRACE The Duchess Dowager of PORTLAND.

Nature! thou active Principle, whose depths
 The curious mind wou'd willingly explore;
 Thou, who in universal order sway'st
 The jarring atoms of a various world! 
The Sceptic's Deity! whose wilder'd soul
 Ne'er reach'd, by Faith, thy first stupendous cause. 

Immediate emanation of a God!
 O, swell the untaught rapture; bid it rise
 Spontaneous in my bare uncultur'd mind! 
Thou shalt aspire, when Gratitude assists,
 To nobler heights than Science ever dar'd. 
Then found with extacy a Portland's name,
 And bid it live beyond the wreck of worlds. 
For her let Fancy pierce the deep abyss,
 Dart thro' the liquid element, and tread
 The shelly pavement, dazzling with the glare
 Of varied hues; the lively coral here,
 Here the pale pearl; the lovely vivid green
 Of brilliant onyx, and the sapphire's blue. 

The Tritons sporting in their oozy grots,
 Forget to heave the tempest-loving wave;
 The huge Leviathan, which late had'scap'd
 Norwegian toils, and, stung by Fear, descends
 More swift than eagles mount meridian heights,
 Feels rapture added to the joy of life,
 Whilst Neptune, from his floating couch, thus speaks:
 "Portland my deep dominions dares explore,
"Nor here alone the Naturalist pursues
 "Those hidden gems by vulgar souls ne'er priz'd;
"For her the bold adventurer shall dare
 "The golden serpent in Arabian wilds,
"Asphaltites, and the venerable Nile,
 "Pluck the fair apple which Gomorrah's flame
"Has fill'd with sulphur; tread once hallow'd earth
 "Where ancient Sion stood; those heights ascend
"Which pious Noah, oft Deucalion call'd,
 "First hail'd with grateful joy, and fearless press
"The Caspian wave: for her the rover seeks
 "The scatter'd remnants of a ruin'd world. 
"But that the surge yon planet wou'd o'erwhelm,
 "The roots of Ocean wou'd I throw to land,
"And all my gems shou'd meet her generous eye;
 "— It must not be; great Jove's indignant frown
"Wou'd shrink each coward wave beneath his fellow. 
 "This boon refus'd, I give a nobler still
"In sweet exchange; magnificently good,
 "Her godlike soul the wanderer shall sooth,
"Chace the sad gloom from Sorrow's woe-sunk eye,
 "And bid each future minute fly in peace."

Thus spake the God, the list'ning surges catch
 The potent sounds, and wast them to the shore;
 Echo to Mantuan groves the strain prolong'd;
 But Tityrus had long forsook the shade;
 And, since his absence, Melody has mourn'd.