LINES ON FONTENELLE.

Muse! if thou canst, this picture's truth excel; Strive to pourtray the soul of Fontenelle: Him, to whose works, with wit and judgment warm, Indulgent Nature, gave a magic charm.— 'Twas his to strew with flowers the toilsome road, Which leads to Science in her dark abode; And while he touch'd the pastoral reed, to prove, That courtly pomp, must yield to rural love. A Lucian rising from the silent tomb, 'Twas his, to pierce through Error's doubtful gloom; And, with resistless eye, at once to dart Full on the hidden secrets of the heart.— Union divine!—in Fontenelle we find A glowing genius, and a gentle mind!