But sternly silent down he bow'd, and prov'd

A calm, firm martyr to the cause he lov'd.
Unconquer'd patriot! form'd by ancient lore

The love of ancient freedom to restore;

Who nobly acted what he boldly thought,
And seal'd, by death, the lesson that he taught.
Dear is the tie, that links the anxious sire

To the fond babe that prattles round his fire;
Dear is the love, that prompts the grateful youth
His sire's fond cares and drooping age to sooth:

Dear is the brother, sister, husband, wife;

Dear all the charities of social life:

Nor wants firm friendship holy wreaths to bind

In mutual sympathy the faithful mind :

But not th' endearing springs that fondly move

To filial duty, or parental love;

Not all the ties that kindred bosoms bind,

Nor all in friendship's holy wreaths entwin'd,

Are half so dear, so potent to controul
The gen'rous workings of the patriot soul,
As is that holy voice, that cancels all

These ties, that bids him for his country fall.
At this high summons, with undaunted zeal
He bares his breast, invites th' impending steel,
Smiles at the hand that deals the fatal blow,
Nor heaves one sigh for all he leaves below.

Nor yet doth Glory, though her port be bold, Her aspect radiant, and her tresses gold,

Guide through the walks of death alone her car,
Attendant only on the din of war;

She ne'er disdains the gentle vale of Peace,
Or olive shades of philosophic ease,

More pleas'd on Isis' silent marge to roam,
Than bear in pomp the spoil of battles home.
To read, with Newton's ken, the starry sky,

And God the same in all his orbs descry;

To lead forth Merit from her humble shade,
Extend to rising Arts a patron's aid;
Build the nice structure of the gen'rous Law,

That holds the freeborn soul in willing awe;
To swell the sail of Trade, the barren plain
To bid with fruitage blush, and wave with grain;
O'er pale Misfortune drop, with anxious sigh,
Pity's mild balm, and wipe Affliction's eye;
These, these are deeds Britannia must approve,
Must nurse their growth with all a parent's love;
These are the deeds that public Virtue owns,
And, just to public virtue, Glory crowns.

CHRISTOPHER BUTSON,

NEW COLLLge.

BENEFICIAL EFFECTS

OF

INOCULATION,

A PRIZE POEM,

RECITED

IN THE THEATRE, OXFORD,

IN THE YEAR MDCCLXXII.

-quibus hunc lenire dolorem Possis, et magnam Morbi deponere partem.