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Hop Garden

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POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS.

BY CHRISTOPHER SMART, A. M. Fellow of Pembroke-Hall, Cambridge.

—nonumque prematur in annum. HOR.

LONDON: Printed for the AUTHOR, by W. STRAHAN; And ſold by J. NEWBERY, at the Bible and Sun, in St. Paul's Church-yard. MDCCLII.

To the RIGHT HONOURABLE the EARL of MIDDLESEX.

[]
My LORD,

THE Critics will, undoubtedly, expect, when they ſee your Name prefixed to this Volume, that I ſhould addreſs your Lordſhip, as the Judge of Science, and the he⯑reditary Patron of learned Men; but I ſhall take the Liberty of diſappointing them, having, as I preſume, a ſtronger and more natural Claim to your Protection from a lucky Accident, than from any real Excellence I can pretend to, ei⯑ther as a Writer or a Scholar.

This lucky Accident, my Lord, is the Ho⯑nour (I had almoſt ſaid Merit) of being born within a few Miles of your Lordſhip; and tho' I have too much Diffidence to ask your Pa⯑tronage [] as a Poet, I have Aſſurance enough to demand it as a Man of Kent.

I ſhall not imitate, in this Dedication (if ſuch an homely Epiſtle may aſpire to ſo polite a Name) the Conduct of moſt modern Authors, who are always particularly fulſome, at the very Time they, with the utmoſt Solemnity, proteſt againſt Flattery—What I ſincerely believe of you I have ſaid already, and you will find it in the introductory Ode on Good-nature, which I beg Leave, in an eſpecial Manner, not only to inſcribe, but to apply to the Earl of Middleſex.

I am, my Lord, with the utmoſt Reſpect,
Your Lordſhip's moſt obedient, and moſt obliged humble Servant, CHRISTOPHER SMART.

LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS NAMES.

[]
A
  • SIR John Abdy, Bart.
  • Sir Jacob Aſhley, Bart.
  • Nathanial Acton, Eſq
  • Mrs. Acworth
  • The Rev. Mr. Addiſon, of Knaton in Yorkſhire.
  • Mr. Henry Allcraft
  • Mr. Richard Alderſon
  • The Rev. Mr. Allen, of Mary-Hall, Oxford.
  • Rev. Mr. Allot
  • Thomas Anguiſh, Eſq 2 Books
  • The Rev. Mr. Anonymous
  • The Rev. Mr. Anonymous
  • Thomas Anſel, Eſq
  • Edward Archer, M. D. of London
  • Mr. Arne
  • Ceryl Arthington, Eſq
  • Edward Aſhly, Eſq
  • Mr. Aſhly, Trinity College, Cambridge
  • Dr. Aſkew
  • Henry Aſkew, Eſq
  • Adam Aſkew, M. D. of Newcaſtle
  • Anthony Aſkew, M. D. R. S. S. of Lon⯑don, 4 Books
  • The Rev. Mr. Aſkew, A. M. of St. Ed⯑mund's-Hall in Oxford
  • Mr. Henry Aſkew of Emmanuel-College in Cambridge
  • Mr. John Aſkew of Rotterdam
  • The Rev. Mr. Atkin, A. M.
  • Dr. Avery
  • Mr. Charles Aviſon of Newcaſtle, 2 Books
  • Edward Auſtin, Eſq
B
  • The Right Honourable the Lord Boyle
  • Sir Philip Boteler, Bart.
  • The Lady Boteler
  • John Bagnall, Eſq
  • John Baily, Eſq
  • Conſtantine Baily, Eſq
  • Benjamin Bailey, Eſq
  • Thomas Baker, Eſq
  • Mr. Baker, of Pembroke Hall
  • The Rev. Mr. Baldwin
  • The Rev. Dr Banſon
  • Mr. Barber, Bookſeller, at Newcaſtle
  • Mr. Barlow
  • Mr. Barnes
  • Dr. Barrowby
  • Mr. Bartman
  • The Rev. Mr. Barton, A. M. Fellow of New-College, Oxon
  • Mr. Joſeph Batch
  • Charles Bate, Eſq
  • John Battie, Eſq
  • Mr. Bayntun, of Gray's-Inn
  • The Rev. Mr. Beaumont of Trinity-Hall
  • Dr. Bedford
  • The Rev. Mr. Bedford, Sen. 2 Books
  • The Rev. Mr. Bedford, jun. Fellow of Pembroke-Hall.
  • Miſs Chriſtian Bedingfield
  • Mr. Beevor, M. B.
  • The Rev. Mr. Bell, of Sydney-College, A. M.
  • Henry Bell, Eſq
  • Mr. Bening
  • Mr. James Bennet, Maſter of the Gram⯑mar School, Hoddeſdon.
  • Mr. Bennet
  • James Beſt, Eſq
  • Thomas Beſt, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr Bickham, A. M. Fellow of Emanuel-College
  • The Rev. Mr. Bill
  • Mr. Binckes
  • Mr. Bird
  • Captain Blackerby
  • The Rev. Mr. Henry Blackett, A. M.
  • Mr. Henry Blencoe
  • George Blundel, Eſq
  • [] Mr. Boawre, A. M. Fellow of Queen's-College, Cambridge
  • Mr. Boiſdawne of Peter's-College
  • The Rev. Mr. Bolton.
  • Mr. Bourke
  • The Rev. Mr. Bourne, Fellow of St. John's-College, Cambridge
  • The Rev. Mr. Bourne, A. M. Queen's-College, Cambridge
  • Mr. George Bourne
  • Miſs Bouverie
  • George Bowes, Eſq 4 Books
  • Mrs. Bowes
  • Mrs. Elizabeth Bowes
  • Mrs. Jane Bowes
  • The Rev. Mr. Bowl, M. A. of Oriel-College, Oxford.
  • Walter Bowman, Eſq
  • Dr. Boyce 2 Books
  • Samuel Boys, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. Bridges of Sydney College
  • Mr. Brockett, of Trinity-College, Cam⯑bridge
  • R. Brookes, M. D.
  • The Rev. Mr. Brooks, A. M.
  • The Rev. Mr. Brown. Preſident of Pem⯑broke-Hall, Cambridge
  • Mr. Bryant
  • Mrs. Bryant
  • William Buck, Eſq
  • Mr. Buck
  • Captain Buckeridge
  • Richard Bull, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. Bullen.
  • Mr. Burville, of Univerſity-College, Oxon
  • Mr. Charles Burney
  • Mr. Richard Burney, 2 Books
  • Peter Burrell, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. James Burſlem, A. M.
  • The Rev. Mr. Burton, A. M.
  • [...] Byde, Eſq
C
  • His Grace the Duke of Cleveland
  • Lord James Cavendiſh
  • Lord George Cavendiſh
  • The Right Rev. the Biſhop of Cheſter
  • Sir George Cooke
  • Sir John Chapman
  • John Cage, Eſq
  • James Calder, Eſq
  • John Cale, Eſq
  • John Campbell, Eſq
  • Mr. William Campbell
  • Samuel Card, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. Carleton, Rye, in Suffex
  • Mr. Carleton
  • The Rev. Mr. John Carlyon, 4 Books
  • Miſs Carnan.
  • Ralph Carr, Eſq
  • Mr. Charles Carſan, Trin. Hall, Cambr.
  • Mr. Carter, Trinity-College, Cambridge
  • The Rev. Mr. Cawthorne, 2 Books
  • The Rev. Mr. Cayley
  • Mr. John Cayley
  • Mrs. Chaloner
  • Graves Chamney, Eſq
  • William Champneys, Eſq
  • Henry Champneys, Eſq
  • Butler Chancey, Eſq
  • Mr. Charles Chapman.
  • [...] Chaworth, Eſq
  • Thomas Cheſhyre, Eſq
  • Mr. Samuel Chitty
  • Henry Cholmley, Eſq
  • Dr. Chriſtopherſon, 2 Books
  • Mrs Cibber
  • The Rev. Mr. Clark
  • Mr. George Clark
  • Mr. Clay, Bookſeller, in Daventry, 5 Books
  • The Rev. Mr. Clayton
  • The Rev. Mr. Clayton, junior
  • Thomas Clennell, Eſq C. C. C. Oxon
  • Mrs. Clive
  • Mr. Thomas Clutterbuck
  • The Rev. Mr. Cole, A. M. King's-College, Cambridge
  • Mr. Coleman
  • Robert Collet, Eſq
  • Mr. William Collins
  • Mr. Benjamin Collins
  • Mr. Francis Collins
  • The Rev. Mr. Collis
  • The Rev. Mr. Comber.
  • George Concanen, Eſq
  • Mr. Conyers, Jeſus-College, Cambridge
  • Mr. Thomas Conyers
  • George Cook, of Warmſworth, Eſq
  • Thomas Cooke, Eſq
  • Mrs. Elizabeth Cooke
  • [] Dr. Cooper
  • William Cooper, Eſq
  • Grey Cooper, Eſq
  • Aſhly Cooper, Eſq
  • Godfrey Copley, Eſq
  • Robert Copley, Eſq
  • Mr. Coppard
  • Frederick Cordis, Eſq
  • John Corſlad, Eſq
  • John Covet, Eſq
  • Mr. Charles Couper
  • Samuel Cox, Eſq
  • Mr. Tobius Coyte, Fellow of Queen's-College, Cambridge
  • Lieut. Samuel Cramer.
  • Major Crawford
  • Patrick Crawford, Eſq
  • Dr. Randall Crewe
  • George Crowe, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. Crowle
  • Maſter Crowther.
  • The Rev. Joſeph Cue, A. M.
  • Mr. Cumberland, Trinity-College
  • Mr. William Curteis
  • Mr. John Cuttling.
D
  • John Dade, Eſq
  • Mr. Dade, Fellow of Pembroke-Hall, Cambridge
  • Miſs Dolly Dale
  • Michael Dally, Eſq
  • Captain Davis
  • Mr. William Davis, of Rye, in Suffex.
  • Mr. Davis
  • The Rev. Mr. Daviſon, A. M.
  • James Daviſon, Eſq
  • Miſs Daviſon.
  • The Rev. Mr. Charles Davy, A. M. 2 Books
  • The Rev. Mr. Davy, A. M. Fellow of Caius-College.
  • Mr. Dawes, St. Mary-Hall, Oxon.
  • Henry Dawkins, Eſq
  • Edward Dawſon, Eſq 2 Books.
  • Mr. John Dawſon
  • The Rev. Mr. Debat, jun.
  • The Rev. Mr. Delap, A. M. Fellow of Magdalen-College
  • Francis Blake Delaval, Eſq
  • John Delaval, Eſq
  • Mrs. Delaval
  • Mr. Edward Delaval, Fellow of Pem⯑broke-Hall
  • John Delme, Eſq 2 Books
  • The Rev. Mr. Dering, A. M. ſen.
  • The Rev. Mr. Dering, A. M. jun.
  • Mrs. Devall
  • Mr. Devayne
  • The Rev. Mr. Ditton
  • William Dixon, of Loverſal, Eſq
  • Abraham Dixon, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. Dodſworth
  • Edward Donavan, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. Dongworth, A. M. 2 Books
  • Charles Donville, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. Dorſett, A. M.
  • Mr. John Dorſett
  • Mr. Douglaſs, Trinity-College, Cambridge
  • Mrs. Amelia Douglaſs
  • The Rev. Mr. Drake, A. M.
  • William Henry Draper, Eſq
  • Mr. John Duick
  • Henry Duncomb, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. Dunn, jun.
E
  • Sir Robert Eden, Bart.
  • Eraſmus Earl, Eſq
  • Philip Egerton, Eſq
  • Mr. Evans, King's College, Cambridge
F
  • The Right Hon. Lord Viſcount Faulkland
  • The Right Hon. Lord Folkſtone
  • The Right Hon. Lady Folkſtone
  • The Hon. Robert Fairfax, Eſq 2 Books.
  • Thomas Fairfax, of Newton, Eſq
  • Richard Falkiner, Eſq
  • Mrs. Falkiner.
  • James Farrer, Eſq
  • The Rev. Dr. Farrer
  • Thomas Farrington, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. Farror
  • Thomas Faukes of Farnley, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. Fauconer, A. M.
  • Chriſtopher Fawcett, Eſq
  • [] The Rev. Mr. Fawkes, A. M.
  • William Fenwick, Eſq of Bywell, Northumberland
  • Mr. Edmund Filmer, C. C. C. Oxon
  • Savile Finch. Eſq
  • Mr. James Fitter
  • Capt. Nicholas Fitzgerald
  • Mr. Fletcher
  • Mr. Foley, A. M. Trinity-College
  • Benjamin Hattley Foote, Eſq
  • Samuel Foote, Eſq
  • Mr. Ford of Aldermanbury
  • Pulter Forreſter, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. Pulter Forreſter, A. M.
  • The Rev. Mr. Forreſter, Fellow of Pem⯑broke-Hall
  • Mr. Recorder Forſett
  • The Rev. Mr. William Forſter, A. M. jun.
  • The Rev. Dr. Fountayne, Dean of York.
  • Sydenham Fowkes, Eſq
  • Thomas Fowl, Eſq
  • Mr. Fowler, A. M. Fellow of Trinity-College, Cambridge
  • The Rev. Mr. Fowler
  • George Fox, of Bramham Park, Eſq
  • Framlingham Book Club
  • The Rev. Mr. Franklin, Greek Profeſſor, Cambridge
  • Mr. Samuel Fullagar
  • Peregrine Fury, Eſq
  • Mr. Peregrine Fury, Trinity-College, Cambridge
  • Mrs. Fyſh
G
  • The Right Rev. the Biſhop of Glouceſter
  • The Hon. and Rev. Mr. Graham
  • Edward Gardiner, Eſq
  • James Garland, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. Garnett, B. D.
  • David Garrick, Eſq
  • Mrs. Garrick
  • Mr. Gaſkarth, A. M. Fellow of Pembroke-Hall
  • John Geckie, Eſq
  • Philip Gell, Eſq 2 Books
  • Thomas Gilbert, Eſq
  • Edward Gilbert, Eſq
  • Robert Gildard, Eſq
  • Henry Goddard, Eſq
  • Mr. Goodchild, Trin. Coll. Cambridge
  • Mrs. Goodhugh, 2 Books
  • The Rev. Mr. John Goodwin
  • Adam Gordon, Eſq
  • Stanley Goodman, Eſq
  • Lieut. Colonel Charles Gordon
  • Mr. Gordon, Fellow of Emanuel-College, Cambridge
  • The Rev. Mr. Gordon, A. M. Fellow of Bennet-College
  • John Gore, Eſq
  • Mr. Gray, Peter's-College, Cambridge
  • The Rev. Mr. Green, 2 Books
  • Mr. Thomas Greenough
  • The Rev. Mr. Greet
  • William Gregory, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. Abraham Gregory
  • The Rev. Mr. Gretton, A. M.
  • Fulk Grevile, Eſq
  • Dr. Zachary Grey
  • Mr. Grieſdale
  • Jeremiah Griffith, Eſq
  • Mr. John Griffith
  • Mr. Griffiths
  • John Grimſtone, Eſq
  • Mr. Robert Groat.
  • The Rev. Mr. Gulſton
  • Miſs Gwynn
H
  • The Hon. Charles Hope-Vere, Eſq
  • The Hon. Mrs. Hope-Vere
  • The Hon. Sir Joſeph Hankey, Kt. and Alderman
  • The Rev. Mr. Hubbard, B. D. ſen. Fellow of Emanuel-College
  • Mr. William Hale
  • The Rev. Mr. Hales
  • John Hall, Eſq
  • Mr. Richard Halloway
  • William Hamilton, Eſq
  • Hans Hamilton, Eſq
  • William Hammond, Eſq
  • Henry Harpur, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. Harriſon, A. M. C. C. C. Oxon
  • Howard Haſtings, Eſq
  • Mr. Haſtings
  • Henry Hatſell, Eſq
  • Mr. Havard
  • [] Mrs. Eleanor Hawdon
  • Thomas Hawkins, Eſq
  • Mrs. Hawes
  • Dr. Hayes, Fellow of Pembroke-Hall
  • Mr. Robert Heathe
  • Dr. Heberdeen
  • The Rev. Mr. John Hedges, A. M.
  • William Hen, Eſq
  • William Henley, Eſq
  • Mr. John Hering, C. C. C. Cambridge
  • The Rev. Mr. Herrick, A. M. Fellow of Trinity-College, Cambridge
  • The Rev. Mr. Hetherly
  • The Rev. Mr. Hewet, Fellow of Caius-College
  • Mr. Hickſon
  • Mr. Higgs, Trinity-College, Cambridge
  • Mr. Hildyard, of York
  • The Rev. Mr. Charles Hingeſton, A. B.
  • Mr. Charles Hitchcock, Pembroke-Hall
  • Mr. John Hitchcock
  • Henry Hoare, Eſq
  • Joſeph Hoare, Eſq
  • Mr. Holdman, 4 Books
  • Mr. Holmes, Maſter of Holt-School
  • Mr. John Holmes
  • Mrs. Holmes
  • Dr. Hooper, ſen. Fellow of Trinity-Col⯑lege, Cambridge
  • The Rev. Mr. Horne
  • Mr. George Horne, Univerſity-College, Oxon
  • Joſeph Huſe, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. Humphreys, A. M.
  • Mr. William Hunter, Surgeon
  • Mrs. Hunter
  • James Hurſler, Eſq
  • Thomas Huſſey, Eſq
  • Mr. George Hutton, of Sedgefield
  • Mr. George Hutton, Cornhill
I
  • The Right Hon. the Lord Irwin
  • The Right Hon. Lady Irwin
  • Sir John Jenour
  • Mr. Edward Jackſon
  • R. James, M. D.
  • Theodore Janſſen, Eſq Alderman of the City of London
  • Mr. John Ibbetſon
  • Mr. Samuel Idle
  • The Rev. Mr. Jenkin, Rector of Holm
  • Mr. William Jephſon, of St. John's-Col⯑lege, Cambridge
  • Charles Ingram, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. Inman
  • The Rev. Mr. Johnſon, Maſter of Lan⯑caſter-School
  • The Rev. Mr. Johnſon, of Brook, Norfolk
  • The Rev. Mr. Johnſton, Rector of Teſton
  • Mr. William Johnſton
  • Edward Jones, Eſq
  • Mr. Jones
  • The Rev. Mr. John Jones, Emanuel-Col⯑lege
  • Richard Jonſton, Eſq Pembroke-Hall
  • Mr. Robert Iſaacſon
  • Mr. Jurin, Trinity-College, Cambridge
K
  • The Hon. the Lord Kingſborough
  • His Excellency Benjamin Keene, Eſq
  • The Hon. Frederick Keppel, Eſq
  • Mr. William Kenrick
  • William Kent, Eſq
  • Mr. Samuel Kilderbee
  • Mr. John Kilvington, of St. John's Col⯑lege, Cambridge
  • Mr. Kingſgate
  • The Rev. Mr. Knight, Fellow of Trinity-College
  • Miſs Knowel, of Brompton
  • The Rev. Mr. Joſhua Kyte, Student of Chriſt-Church, Oxford
L
  • The Right Rev. the Biſhop of London
  • Sir Digby Legard
  • Sir William Lowther
  • Mr. Robert Lacey
  • The Rev. Mr. Scudamore Lazonby
  • Rigbye Lake, Eſq
  • Mr. Lamb
  • Lacon Lambe, Eſq
  • Dr. Lane
  • Mr. Lane
  • The Rev. Mr. Robert Laſcelles, 2 Books
  • Robert Lawſon, Eſq
  • Jammes Hauſkett Lee, Eſq
  • Mr. Leeds
  • The Rev. Mr. John Lee, A. M. Rector of Lawton
  • [] Dr. Legrand
  • Mr. Richard Lehunt, Student of Chriſt-Church, Oxon
  • Major Charlton Leighton
  • Mr. Lethieullier
  • Mr. Levet
  • William Leving, Eſq
  • Trinity-Hall Library
  • Mrs. Liddell
  • Mr. Joſeph Lightbody of Saliſbury, 6 Books
  • Godfrey Lill, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. Lindſey, 2 Books
  • Captain Liſter
  • The Rev. Mr. Liſter, A. M.
  • Mr. Thomas Liſter.
  • Mr. John Liveſey, Trinity-Hall.
  • William Lloyd, Eſq
  • Hugh Hughes Lloyd, Eſq
  • Mr. Lloyd, Trinity-College, Cambridge
  • Mr. John Lockman, Secretary to the Britiſh Herring Fiſhery
  • Mr. Robert Lodge
  • The Rev. Mr. Lonwgith, of Thornton
  • The Rev. Mr. Benjamin Loveling
  • Mr. Thomas Lowe
M
  • The Right Hon. the Earl of Middleton
  • The Right Hon. the Lord Maynard
  • The Hon. William Murray, Eſq his Ma⯑jeſty's Sollicitor-General, 4 Books
  • The Hon. William Murray, Eſq
  • Sir Henry Manwaring, Bart.
  • The Hon. Miſs Marſham
  • The Hon. Colonel Madan
  • Mr. Madan, Trinity-College, Cambridge
  • Mr. Abraham Maddock
  • Edward Man. Eſq
  • Mr. Charles Mandeville, ditto
  • The Rev. Mr. Mapletoft, A. M. Rector of Byfield
  • The Rev. Mr. Robert Mapletoft, of Pem⯑broke-Hall
  • Mr. Nathaniel Mapletoft, of Pembroke-Hall
  • Mr. Francis Mapletoft, of Pembroke-Hall
  • Miſs Marr
  • The Rev. Mr. Marſh
  • Edward Martin, Eſq
  • Mr. William Maſon, A. M. Fellow of Pembroke-Hall
  • Mr. John Maſon
  • John Maſon, Eſq of Maidſtone
  • Mr. Maſterman, Trinity-Colledge, Cam⯑bridge
  • Mr. Joſ. Mawley, of Vaux-Hall
  • The Rev. Mr. May, A. M. Fellow of Pembroke-Hall
  • The Rev. Mr. May, Fellow of Queen's-College, Cambridge
  • Moſes Mendez, Eſq
  • Arthur Meares, Eſq
  • William Meares, Eſq
  • George Mercer, Eſq
  • Mr. Charles Mickle wright
  • The Rev. Mr David Miles, A. M.
  • Mr. Robert Miller.
  • John Milles, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. Milner, A. M.
  • William Minchin, Eſq
  • Capt. Mocker
  • The Rev. Mr. Monro, A M. C. C. C. Oxon
  • Dr. Monſon
  • Edward Morant, Eſq
  • Mr. William Morel, Trinity-College, Cambridge
  • The Rev. Mr. Morgan. ſen. Fellow of Trinity-College
  • The Rev. Mr. Morgan, jun. A. M.
  • Mr. Morgan, Weſtminſter
  • Mr. Morrice
  • Harry Morris, Eſq
  • William Morriſon, Eſq
  • Abraham Mortier, Eſq
  • Mr. Motte, A. B. of Pembroke-Hall
  • Mr. Muilment
  • Mr. Muncaſter
  • The Rev. Mr. Muriell
  • The Rev. Mr. Muſgrave, A. M. Fellow of Pembroke-Hall
  • Dr. Muſhett
N
  • The Right Hon. the Counteſs of Non⯑thumberland
  • Mr. Nailor, A. B. of Trinity-College, Cambridge
  • Mr. Neal, Apothecary, on Bread-ſtreet Hill
  • Mr. Henry Neale
  • Mr. Nelſon, Weſtminſter
  • Mr. Nevile, A. M. Fellow of Jeſus-Col⯑lege, Cambridge
  • [] Mr. Newbery, St. Paul's Church-yard, 20 Books
  • Mr. Robert Newbery
  • The Rev. Newcomen
  • The Rev. Mr. Newton, A. M. Fellow of Jeſus College, Cambridge
  • The Rev. Mr. Newbon, Fellow of Tri⯑nity-College, Cambridge
  • The Rev. Mr. Newton, A. M. Fellow of Sidney-College, Cambridge
  • Mr. Thomas Noble
  • Rowney Noel, Eſq Fellow of All Souls, Oxon
  • Robert North, of Scarborough, Eſq
  • John Nicholl, Eſq
  • Mr. William Nichols
  • Mr. Thomas Nichols
O
  • Mr. Ogle, A. M. Fellow of Merton-Col⯑lege, Oxon
  • Mr. James Oland
  • The Rev. Oram, A. M. C. C. C. C.
  • Mr. Ord, Trinity-College, Cambridge
  • Major Otway
  • Stanhope Otway, Eſq
  • Mr. Francis Otway
P
  • Mr. James Paine, Architect
  • The Rev. Mr. Palliſter
  • Paul Panton, Eſq
  • Mr. Parrot, of Hawkſbury
  • [...] Partridge, Eſq Recorder of Lynn
  • Mr. Reſta Patching
  • Mark Paterſon, Eſq
  • Mr. Offspring Pearce, St. John's College, Cambridge
  • [...] Peate, Eſq Inner Temple, 2 Books
  • The Rev. Peele, A. M. late Fellow of Pembroke-Hall
  • Mr. Thomas Pemberton, of Sunderland
  • Mr. Pennick
  • Dr. Pepuſch
  • Mr. John Pett, Surgeon
  • The Rev. Mr. Pickering, A. M.
  • Mr. Pierce of Hodſdon
  • Harriſon Pilkington, Eſq
  • Mr. Henry Pincutt
  • Charles Pool, Eſq
  • Mr. Thomas Poppleton
  • Henry Poultney, Eſq
  • Walpole-Clench Powell, Eſq
  • Edward Pratt, Eſq
  • The Rev. Mr. Jermyn Pratt, A. M.
  • Mrs. Preſcot
  • Dr. Stephen Preſton
  • Marmaduke Pricket, Eſq
  • Mr. Samuel Prince
  • Miſs Nancy Purrior
Q
  • Robert Quarme, Eſq
R
  • The Right Hon. the Lord Romney
  • The Right Hon. Lady Romney
  • Sir John Ramſden. Bart.
  • Lady Ramſden
  • The Rev. Mr. Raſtall, A. M.
  • Mr. Reay
  • John Rich, Eſq 2 Books
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ERRATA.

[]

ODES.—Page 7, Line 8, after to read the. Page 19, Line 6, for foft read ſoft. HOP-GARDEN, Book I. Page 114, Line 3, for to read too. Page 115, Line 3, after uplift place a comma, and dele that after arms.—Ibid. Line 26, for fome read ſome. Page 117, Line 9, for lab'rours read labours. Page 120, Line 11, for will read with.—Ibid. Line 12, after boaſt, inſtead of a full Stop, place a Comma. Book II. Page 127, Line 10, for Heav'ns read Heavens. Page 128, Line 2, for Zeinth read Zenith. Page 131, Line 10, inſtead of for read far. Page 133, Line 1, for felfiſh read ſelfiſh. Page 142, Verſ. 38, pro reſcucitat lege reſuſcitat. Page 158, Verſ. 38, pro ſordit lege ſordet.

JUDGMENT of MIDAS, Page 223, Line 7, for Scen'ry read Scenery. Page 229, Line 16, for Glow-worw read Glow-worm.

ESSAY on CRITICISM, Verſe 251, for wonder'd read wonder. Verſe 261, for triviel read trivial. Verſe 426, for ſteems read teems. Verſe 540, after at dele a.

DE ARTE CRITICA, Verſ. 159, pro cituis lege citius. Verſ. 295, pro Norman lege Normam. Verſ. 307, pro redundet lege redundat. Verſ. 319, pro ſuavitur lege ſuaviter. Verſ. 360, pro celabrabitur lege celebrabitur. Verſ. 361, pro qui lege hi. Verſ. 448, pro ſtubito lege ſubito. Verſ. 495, pro inſequerenter lege inſequerentur. Verſ. 573, pro ſupeaddita lege ſuperaddita. Verſ. 643, pro infamen lege infamem.

[...], Verſ. 14, pro Ephroſyne lege Euphroſyne. Verſ. 48, pro ſylveſtibus lege ſylveſtribus.

—aut incuria fudit
Aut humana parum cavit Natura.HOR.
TYPOGRAPHUS.

THE INTRODUCTION. BEING TWO ODES.
The former on Good-Nature, the latter againſt Ill-Nature.

[]

On GOOD-NATURE.

I.
HAIL cherub of the higheſt Heav'n,
Of look divine, and temper ev'n,
Celeſtial ſweetneſs, exquiſite of mien,
Of ev'ry virtue, ev'ry praiſe the queen!
II.
Soft gracefulneſs, and blooming youth,
Where, grafted on the ſtem of truth,
That friendſhip reigns, no intereſt can divide,
And great humility looks down on pride.
III.
Oh! curſe on Slander's vip'rous tongue,
That daily dares thy merit wrong;
Ideots uſurp thy title, and thy frame,
Without or virtue, talent, taſte, or name.
[2]IV.
Is apathy, is heart of ſteel,
Nor ear to hear, nor ſenſe to feel,
Life idly inoffenſive ſuch a grace,
That it ſhou'd ſteal thy name and take thy place?
V.
No—thou art active—ſpirit all—
Swifter than light'ning, at the call
Of injur'd innocence, or griev'd deſert,
And large with liberality's thy heart.
VI.
Thy appetites-in eaſy tides
(As reaſon's luminary guides)
Soft flow—no wind can work them to a ſtorm,
Correctly quick, diſpaſſionately warm.
VII.
Yet if a tranſport thou canſt feel
'Tis only for thy neighbours weal:
Great, generous acts thy ductile paſſions move,
And ſmilingly thou weep'ſt with joy and love.
VIII.
Mild is thy mind to cover ſhame,
Averſe to envy, ſlow to blame,
Burſting to praiſe, yet ſtill ſincere and free
From flatt'ry's fawning tongue, and bending knee.
[3]IX.
Extenſive, as from weſt to eaſt,
Thy love deſcends from man to beaſt,
Nought is excluded little, or infirm,
Thou canſt with greatneſs ſtoop to ſave a worm.
X.
Come, goddeſs, come with all thy charms
For Oh! I love thee, to my arms—
All, all my actions guide, my fancy feed,
So ſhall exiſtence then be life indeed.

Againſt ILL-NATURE.

[4]
I.
OFSPRING of folly and of pride,
To all that's odious, all that's [...] allied;
Nurs'd up by vice, by pravity miſſed,
By pedant affectation taught and bred:
Away, thou hideous hell-born ſpright,
Go, with thy looks of dark deſign,
Sullen, ſour, and ſaturnine;
Fly to ſome gloomy ſhade, nor blot the goodly light.
Thy planet was remote, when I was born;
'Twas Mercury that rul'd my natal morn,
What time the ſun exerts his genial ray,
And ripens for enjoyment every growing day;
When to exiſt is but to love and ſing,
And ſprightly Aries ſmiles upon the ſpring.
II.
There in yon loneſome heath,
Which Flora, or Sylvanus never knew,
Where never vegetable drank the dew,
Or beaſt, or fowl attempts to breathe;
Where Nature's pencil has no colours laid;
But all is blank, and univerſal ſhade;
Contraſt to figure, motion, life and light,
There may'ſt thou vent thy ſpight,
For ever curſing, and for ever curs'd,
Of all th' infernal crew the worſt;
[5] The worſt in genius, meaſure and degree;
For envy, hatred, malice, are but parts of thee.
III.
Or woud'ſt thou change the ſcene, and quit thy den,
Behold the heav'n-deſerted fen,
Where ſpleen, by vapours denſe begot and bred,
Hardneſs of heart, and heavineſs of head,
Have rais'd their darkſome walls, and plac'd their thorny bed;
There may'ſt thou all thy bitterneſs unload,
There may'ſt thou croak, in concert with the toad,
With thee the hollow howling winds ſhall join,
Nor ſhall the bittern her baſe throat deny,
The querulous frogs ſhall mix their dirge with thine,
Th' ear-piercing hern, and plover ſcreaming high,
While million humming gnats fit oeſtrum ſhall ſupply.
IV.
Away—away—behold an hideous band
An herd of all thy minions are at hand,
Suſpicion firſt with jealous caution ſtalks,
And ever looks around her as ſhe walks,
With bibulous ear imperfect ſounds to catch,
And prompt to liſten at her neighbours latch.
Next Scandal's meagre ſhade,
Foe to the virgins, and the poet's fame,
A wither'd, time-deflow'red old maid,
That ne'er enjoy'd love's ever ſacred flame.
[6] Hypocriſy ſucceeds with ſaint-like look,
And elevates her hands and plods upon her book.
Next comes illiberal ſcrambling Avarice,
Then Vanity and Affectation nice—
See, ſhe ſalutes her ſhadow with a bow
As in ſhort Gallic trips ſhe minces by,
Starting antipathy is in her eye,
And ſqueamiſhly ſhe knits her ſcornful brow.
To thee, Ill-Nature, all the numerous group
With lowly reverence ſtoop—
They wait thy call, and mourn thy long delay,
Away—thou art infectious—haſte away.

A MORNING PIECE, OR, AN HYMN for the HAY-MAKERS. ODE I.

[]
Quinetiam Gallum noctem explaudentibus alis
Auroram clarâ conſuetum voce vocare.
LUCRET.
BRISK chaunticleer his mattins had begun,
And broke the ſilence of the night,
And thrice he call'd aloud the tardy ſun,
And thrice he hail'd the dawn's ambiguous light;
Back to their graves the fear-begotten phantoms run.
Strong Labour got up with his pipe in his mouth,
And ſtoutly ſtrode over the dale,
He lent new perfumes to breath of the ſouth,
On his back hung his wallet and flail.
Behind him came Health from her cottage of thatch,
Where never phyſician had lifted the latch.
[8] Firſt of the village Colin was awake,
And thus he ſung, reclining on his rake.
Now the rural graces three
Dance beneath yon maple tree;
Firſt the veſtal Virtue, known
By her adamantine zone;
Next to her in roſy pride,
Sweet Society, the bride;
Laſt Honeſty, full ſeemly dreſt
In her cleanly home-ſpun veſt.
The abby bells in wak'ning rounds
The warning peal have giv'n;
And pious Gratitude reſounds
Her morning hymn to heav'n.
All nature wakes—the birds unlock their throats,
And mock the ſhepherd's ruſtic notes.
All alive o'er the lawn,
Full glad of the dawn,
The little lambkins play,
Sylvia and Sol ariſe,—and all is day—
Come, my mates, let us work,
And all hands to the fork,
While the Sun ſhines, our Hay-cocks to make,
So fine is the Day,
And ſo fragrant the Hay,
That the Meadow's as blithe as the Wake.

[]

[figure]
[9]
Our voices let's raiſe
In Phoebus's praiſe,
Inſpir'd by ſo glorious a theme,
Our muſical words
Shall be join'd by the birds,
And we'll dance to the tune of the ſtream.

A NOON-PIECE; OR, The MOWERS at Dinner. ODE II.

Jam paſtor umbras cum grege languido,
Rivumque feſſus quaerit, & horridi
Dumeta Silvani, caretque
Ripa vagis taciturna ventis.
HOR.
THE Sun is now too radiant to behold,
And vehement he ſheds his liquid Rays of Gold;
No cloud appears thro' all the wide expanſe;
And ſhort, but yet diſtinct and clear,
To the wanton whiſtling air
The mimic ſhadows dance.
[10]
Fat Mirth, and Gallantry the gay,
And romping Extaſy 'gin play.
Now Myriads of young Cupids riſe,
And open all their joy-bright eyes,
Filling with infant prate the grove,
And liſp in ſweetly-fault'ring love.
In the middle of the ring,
Mad with May, and wild of wing,
Fire-ey'd Wantonneſs ſhall ſing.
By the rivulet on the ruſhes,
Beneath a canopy of buſhes,
Where the ever-faithful Tray,
Guards the dumplings and the whey,
Colin Clout and Yorkſhire Will
From the leathern bottle ſwill.
Their ſcythes upon the adverſe bank
Glitter 'mongſt th' entangled trees,
Where the hazles form a rank,
And court'ſy to the courting breeze.
Ah! Harriot! ſovereign miſtreſs of my heart,
Could I thee to theſe meads decoy,
New grace to each fair object thou'dſt impart,
And heighten ev'ry ſcene to perfect joy.
[11]
On a bank of fragrant thyme,
Beneath you ſtately, ſhadowy pine,
We'll with the well-diſguiſed hook
Cheat the tenants of the brook;
Or where coy Daphne's thickeſt ſhade
Drives amorous Phoebus from the glade,
There read Sydney's high-wrought ſtories
Of ladies charms and heroes glories;
Thence fir'd, the ſweet narration act,
And kiſs the fiction into fact.
Or ſatiate with nature's random ſcenes,
Let's to the gardens regulated greens,
Where taſte and elegance command
Art to lend her daedal hand,
Where Flora's flock, by nature wild,
To diſcipline are reconcil'd,
And laws and order cultivate,
Quite civiliz'd into a ſtate.
From the ſun, and from the ſhow'r,
Haſte we to you boxen bow'r,
Secluded from the teizing pry
Of Argus' curioſity:
There, while Phoebus' golden mean,
The gay meridian is ſeen,
Ere decays the lamp of light,
And length'ning ſhades ſtretch out to night—
[12]
Seize, ſeize the hint—each hour improve
(This is morality in love)
Lend, lend thine hand—O let me view
Thy parting breaſts, ſweet avenue!
Then—then thy lips, the coral cell
Where all th' ambroſial kiſſes dwell!
Thus we'll each ſultry noon employ
In day-dreams of exſtatic joy.

A NIGHT-PIECE; OR, MODERN PHILOSOPHY. ODE III.

‘Dicetur meritâ nox quoque noeniâ. ’HOR.
'TWAS when bright Cynthia with her ſilver car,
Soft ſtealing from Endymion's bed,
Had call'd forth ev'ry glitt'ring ſtar,
And up th' aſcent of heav'n her brilliant hoſt had led.
Night, with all her negro train,
Took poſſeſſion of the plain;
[13] In an hearſe ſhe rode reclin'd,
Drawn by ſcreech-owls ſlow and blind:
Cloſe to her, with printleſs feet,
Crept Stillneſs, in a winding ſheet.
Next to her deaf Silence was ſeen,
Treading on tip toes over the green;
Softly, lightly, gently ſhe trips,
Still holding her fingers ſeal'd to her lips.
You could not ſee a ſight,
You could not hear a ſound,
But what confeſs'd the night,
And horror deepen'd round.
Beneath a myrtle's melancholy ſhade,
Sophron the wiſe was laid:
And to the anſw'ring wood theſe ſounds convey'd:
While others toil within the town,
And to Fortune ſmile or frown,
Fond of trifles, fond of toys,
And married to that woman, Noiſe;
Sacred Wiſdom be my care,
And faireſt Virtue, Wiſdom's heir.
His ſpeculations thus the ſage begun,
When, lo! the neighbouring bell
In ſolemn ſound ſtruck one:—
He ſtarts—and recollects—he was engag'd to Nell.
[14]
Then up he ſprang nimble and light,
And rapp'd at fair Ele'nor's door;
He laid aſide virtue that night,
And next morn por'd in Plato for more.

On the ſudden Death of a CLERGYMAN. ODE IV.

IF, like th' Orphean lyre, my ſong could charm,
And light to life the aſhes in the urn,
Fate of his iron dart I would diſarm,
Sudden as thy deceaſe ſhould'ſt thou return,
Recall'd with mandates of deſpotic ſounds,
And arbitrary grief, that will not hear of bounds.
But, ah! ſuch wiſhes, artleſs muſe, forbear;
'Tis impotence of frantic love,
Th' enthuſiaſtic flight of wild deſpair,
To hope the Thracian's magic power to prove.
Alas! thy ſlender vein,
Nor mighty is to move, nor forgetive to feign,
Impatient of a rein,
Thou canſt not in due bounds the ſtruggling meaſures keep,
—But thou, alas! canſt weep—
Thou canſt—and o'er the melancholy bier
Canſt lend the ſad ſolemnity a tear.
Hail! to that wretched corſe, untenanted and cold,
And hail the peaceful ſhade loos'd from its irkſome hold.
[15] Now let me ſay thou'rt free,
For ſure thou paid'ſt an heavy tax for life,
While combating for thee,
Nature and mortality
Maintain'd a daily ſtrife.
High, on a ſlender thread thy vital lamp was plac'd,
Upon the mountain's bleakeſt brow,
To give a nobler light ſuperior was it rais'd,
But more expos'd by eminence it blaz'd;
For not a whiſtling wind that blew,
Nor the drop-deſcending dew,
Nor a bat that idly flew,
But half extinguiſh'd its fair flame—but now
See—hear the ſtorms tempeſtuous ſweep—
Precipitate it falls—it falls—falls lifeleſs in the deep.
Ceaſe, ceaſe, ye weeping youth,
Sincerity's ſoft ſighs, and all the tears of truth.
And you, his kindred throng, forbear
Marble memorials to prepare,
And ſculptur'd in your breaſts his buſto wear.
'Twas thus when Iſrael's legiſlator dy'd,
No fragile mortal honours were ſupply'd,
But even a grave denied.
Better than what the pencil's daub can give,
Better than all that Phidias ever wrought,
Is this—that what he taught ſhall live,
And what he liv'd for ever ſhall be taught.

On the Fifth of December, being the Birth-day of a beautiful young Lady. ODE V.

[16]
I.
HAIL, eldeſt of the monthly train,
Sire of the winter drear,
December, in whoſe iron reign
Expires the chequer'd Year.
Huſh all the bluſt'ring blaſts that blow,
And proudly plum'd in ſilver ſnow,
Smile gladly on this bleſt of Days.
The livery'd clouds ſhall on thee wait,
And Phoebus ſhine in all his ſtate
With more than ſummer rays.
II.
Tho' jocund June may juſtly boaſt
Long days and happy hours,
Tho' Auguſt be Pomona's hoſt,
And May be crown'd with flow'rs;
Tell June, his fire and crimſon dies,
By Harriot's bluſh and Harriot's eyes,
Eclips'd and vanquiſh'd, fade away:
Tell Auguſt, thou canſt let him ſee
A richer, riper fruit than he,
A ſweeter flow'r than May.

The PRETTY CHAMBERMAID: In Imitation of Ne ſit Ancillae tibi amor pudori, &c. of Horace. ODE VI.

[17]
I.
COLIN, oh! ceaſe thy friend to blame,
Who entertains a ſervile flame.
Chide not—believe me, 'tis no more
Than great Achilles did before,
Who nobler, prouder far than he is,
Ador'd his chambermaid Briſeis.
II.
The thund'ring Ajax Venus lays
In love's inextricable maze.
His ſlave Temeſſa makes him yield,
Now miſtreſs of the ſevenfold ſhield.
Atrides with his captive play'd,
Who always ſhar'd the bed ſhe made.
III.
'Twas at the ten years ſiege, when all
The Trojans fell in Hector's fall,
When Helen rul'd the day and night,
And made them love, and made them fight:
[18] Each hero kiſs'd his maid, and why,
Tho' I'm no hero, may not I?
IV.
Who knows? Perhaps Polly may be
A piece of ruin'd royalty.
She has (I cannot doubt it) been
The daughter of ſome mighty queen;
But fate's irremeable doom
Has chang'd her ſceptre for a broom.
V.
Ah! ceaſe to think it—how can ſhe,
So generous, charming, fond, and free,
So lib'ral of her little ſtore,
So heedleſs of amaſſing more,
Have one drop of plebeian blood,
In all the circulating flood?
VI.
But you, by carping at my fire,
Do but betray your own deſire—
Howe'er proceed—made tame by years,
You'll raiſe in me no jealous fears.
You've not one ſpark of love alive,
For, thanks to heav'n, you're forty-five.

IDLENESS. ODE VII.

[19]
GOddeſs of eaſe, leave Lethe's brink,
Obſequious to the Muſe and me;
For once endure the pain to think,
Oh! ſweet inſenſibility!
Siſter of peace and indolence,
Bring, Muſe, bring numbers ſoft and ſlow,
Elaborately void of ſenſe,
And ſweetly thoughtleſs let them flow.
Near ſome cowſlip-painted mead,
There let me doze out the dull hours,
And under me let Flora ſpread,
A ſofa of her ſofteſt flow'rs.
Where, Philomel, your notes you breathe
Forth from behind the neighbouring pine,
And murmurs of the ſtream beneath
Still flow in uniſon with thine.
For thee, O Idleneſs, the woes
Of life we patiently endure,
Thou art the ſource whence labour flows,
We ſhun thee but to make thee ſure.
[20]
For who'd ſuſtain war's toil and waſte,
Or who th' hoarſe thund'ring of the ſea,
But to be idle at the laſt,
And find a pleaſing end in thee.

To the reverend and learned Dr. WEBSTER, Occaſioned by his Dialogues on ANGER and FORGIVENESS. ODE VIII.

I.
'TWAS when th' omniſcient creative pow'r
Diſplay'd his wonders by a mortal's hand,
And, delegated at th' appointed hour,
Great Moſes led away his choſen band;
When Iſrael's hoſt, with all their ſtores,
Paſt thro' the ruby-tinctur'd cryſtal ſhores,
The wilderneſs of waters and of land:
Then perſecution rag'd in heav'n's own cauſe,
And right on neighbouring kingdoms to infringe,
Strict juſtice for the breach of nature's laws,
Strict juſtice, who's full-ſiſter to revenge:
The legiſlator held the ſcythe of fate,
Where'er his legions chanc'd to ſtray,
Death and deſtruction mark'd their bloody way;
Immoderate was their rage, for mortal was their hate.
[21]II.
But when the king of righteouſneſs aroſe,
And on the illumin'd Eaſt ſerenely ſmil'd,
He ſhone with meekeſt mercy on his foes,
Bright as the ſun, but as the moon-beams mild;
From anger, fell revenge, and diſcord free,
He bad war's helliſh clangor ceaſe,
In paſtoral ſimplicity and peace,
And ſhew'd to men that face, which Moſes could not ſee.
III.
Well haſt thou, WEBSTER, pictur'd chriſtian love,
And copied our great maſter's fair deſign,
But livid Envy would the light remove,
Or croud thy portrait in a nook malign—
The Muſe ſhall hold it up to popular view—
Where the more candid and judicious few
Shall think the bright original they ſee,
The likeneſs nobly loſt in the identity.
IV.
Oh hadſt thou liv'd in better days than theſe,
E'er to excel by all was deem'd a ſhame!
Alas! thou haſt no modern arts to pleaſe,
And to deſerve is all thy empty claim▪
Elſe thou'dſt been plac'd, by learning, and by wit,
There, where thy dignify'd inferiors ſit—
[22] Oh they are in their generation wiſe,
Each path of intereſt they have ſagely trod,—
To live—to thrive—to riſe—and ſtill to riſe—
Better to bow to men, than kneel to God.
V.
Behold!—where poor unmanſion'd Merit ſtands,
All cold, and crampt with penury and pain;
Speechleſs thro' want, ſhe rears th' imploring hands,
And begs a little bread, but begs in vain;
While Bribery and Dulneſs, paſſing by,
Bid her, in ſounds barbarian, ſtarve and die.
"Away (they cry (we never ſaw thy name)
"Or in Preferment's Liſt, or that of Fame;
"Away—nor here the fate thou earn'ſt bewail,
"Who canſt not buy a vote, nor haſt a ſoul for ſale.
VI.
Oh Indignation, wherefore wert thou given,
If drowſy Patience deaden all thy rage?—
Yet we muſt bear—ſuch is the will of heaven;
And, WEBSTER, ſo preſcribes thy candid page.
Then let us hear thee preach ſeraphic love,
Guide our diſguſted thoughts to things above;
So our free ſouls, fed with divine repaſt,
(Unmindful of low mortals mean employ)
Shall taſte the preſent, recollect the paſt,
And ſtrongly hope for every future joy.

ODE IX. The Author apologizes to a Lady, for his being a little man.

[23]
‘Natura nuſquam magis, quam in minimis tota eſt.’PLIN.‘ [...].’HOM.
I.
YES, contumelious fair, you ſcorn
The amorous dwarf, that courts you to his arms,
But ere you leave him quite forlorn,
And to ſome youth gigantic yield your charms,
Hear him—oh hear him, if you will not try,
And let your judgment check th' ambition of your eye.
II.
Say, is it carnage makes the man?
Is to be monſtrous really to be great?
Say, is it wiſe or juſt to ſcan
Your lover's worth by quantity, or weight?
Aſk your mamma and nurſe, if it be ſo;
Nurſe and mamma, I ween, ſhall jointly anſwer, no.
III.
The leſs the body to the view,
The ſoul (like ſprings in cloſer durance pent)
Is all exertion, ever new,
Unceaſing, unextinguiſh'd, and unſpent;
Still pouring forth executive deſire,
As bright, as briſk, and laſting, as the veſtal fire.
[24]IV.
Does thy young boſom pant for fame;
Woud'ſt thou be of poſterity the toaſt?
The poets ſhall enſure thy name,
Who magnitude of mind not body boaſt.
Laurels on bulky bards as rarely grow,
As on the ſturdy oak the virtuous miſletoe.
V.
Look in the glaſs, ſurvey that cheek—
Where FLORA has with all her roſes bluſh'd;
The ſhape ſo tender,—looks ſo meek,—
The breaſts made to be preſs'd, not to be cruſh'd—
Then turn to me,—turn with obliging eyes,
Nor longer Nature's works, in miniature, deſpiſe.
VI.
Young AMMON did the world ſubdue,
Yet had not more external man than I;
Ah! charmer, ſhould I conquer you,
With him in fame, as well as ſize, I'll vie.
Then, ſcornful nymph, come forth to yonder grove,
Where I defy, and challenge, all thy utmoſt love.

On Miſs [...]. ODE X.

[25]
I.
LONG, with undiſtinguiſh'd flame,
I lov'd each fair, each witty dame,
My heart the belle-aſſembly gain'd,
And all an equal ſway maintain'd.
II.
But when you came, you ſtood confeſs'd
Sole ſultana of my breaſt;
For you eclips'd, ſupremely fair,
All the whole ſeraglio there.
III.
In this her mien, in that her grace,
In a third I lov'd a face;
But you in ev'ry feature ſhine
Univerſally divine.
IV.
What can thoſe tumid paps excel,
Do they ſink, or do they ſwell?
While thoſe lovely wanton eyes
Sparkling meet them, as they riſe.
V.
Thus is ſilver Cynthia ſeen,
Gliſtening o'er the glaſſy green.
[26] While attracted ſwell the waves,
Emerging from their inmoſt caves.
VI.
When to ſweet ſounds your ſteps you ſuit,
And weave the minuet to the lute,
Heav'ns! how you glide!—her neck—her cheſt—
Does ſhe move, or does ſhe reſt?
VII.
As thoſe roguiſh eyes advance,
Let me catch their ſide-long glance,
Soon—or they'll elude my ſight,
Quick as light'ning, and as bright.
VIII.
Thus the baſhful Pleiad cheats
The gazer's eye, and ſtill retreats,
Then peeps agen—then ſkulks unſeen,
Veil'd behind the azure skreen.
IX.
Like the ever-toying dove,
Smile immenſity of love;
Be Venus in each outward part,
And wear the veſtal in your heart.
X.
When I ask a kiſs, or ſo—
Grant it with a begging no,
And let each roſe that decks your face
Bluſh aſſent to my embrace.

EPITHALAMIUM. ODE XI.

[27]
I.
DEſcend, deſcend, ye ſweet Aonian maids,
Leave the Parnaſſian ſhades,
The joyful Hymeneal ſing,
And to a lovelier Belle
Than fiction e'er devis'd, or eloquence can tell,
Your vocal tributes bring.
And you, ye winged choriſters, that fly
In all the penſile gardens of the ſky,
Chant thro' th' enamel'd grove,
Stretch from the trembling twigs your little throats,
With all the wild variety of artleſs notes,
But let each note be love.
Fragrant Flora, queen of May,
All bedight with garlands gay,
Where in the ſmooth-ſhaven green
The ſpangled cowſlips variegate the ſcene,
And the rivulet between,
Whiſpers, murmurs, ſings,
As it ſtops, or falls, or ſprings;
There ſpread a ſofa of thy ſofteſt flowers,
There let the bridegroom ſtay,
There let him hate the light, and curſe the day,
And dun the tardy hours.
[28]II.
But ſee the bride—ſhe comes with ſilent pace,
Full of majeſty and love;
Not with a nobler grace
Look'd the imperial wife of Jove,
When erſt ineffably ſhe ſhone
In Venus' irreſiſtible, inchanting zone.
Phoebus, great god of verſe, the nymph obſerve,
Obſerve her well;
Then touch each ſweetly-trem'lous nerve
Of thy reſounding ſhell:
Her like huntreſs-Dian paint,
Modeſt, but without reſtraint;
From Pallas take her decent pace,
With Venus ſweeten all her face,
From the Zephyrs ſteal her ſighs,
From thyſelf her ſun-bright eyes;
Then baffled, thou ſhalt ſee,
That as did Daphne thee,
Her charms thy genius' force ſhall fly,
And by no ſoft perſuaſive ſounds be brib'd
To come within INVENTION'S narrow eye;
But all indignant ſhun its graſp, and ſcorn to be deſcrib'd.
III.
Now ſee the bridegroom riſe,
Oh! how impatient are his joys!
Bring me zephyrs to depaint his voice,
But light'ning for his eyes.
[29] He leaps, he ſprings, he flies into her arms,
With joy intenſe,
Feeds ev'ry ſenſe,
And ſultanates o'er all her charms.
Oh! had I Virgil's comprehenſive ſtrain,
Or ſung like Pope, without a word in vain,
Then ſhould I hope my numbers might contain,
Egregious nymph, thy boundleſs happineſs,
How arduous to expreſs!
Such may it laſt to all eternity:
And may thy Lord with thee,
Like two coeval pines in Ida's grove,
That interweave their verdant arms in love,
Each mutual office chearfully perform,
And ſhare alike the ſunſhine, and the ſtorm;
And ever, as you flouriſh hand in hand,
Both ſhade the ſhepherd and adorn the land,
Together with each growing year ariſe,
Indiſſolubly link'd, and climb at laſt the ſkies.

To ETHELINDA, On her doing my Verſes the honour of wearing them in her boſom. I.

[30]
HAppy verſes! that were preſt
In fair Ethelinda's breaſt!
Happy muſe, that didſt embrace
The ſweet, the heav'nly-fragrant place!
Tell me, is the omen true,
Shall the bard arrive there too?
II.
Oft thro' my eyes my ſoul has flown,
And wanton'd on that ivory throne:
There with extatic tranſport burn'd,
And thought it was to heav'n return'd.
Tell me, is the omen true,
Shall the body follow too?
III.
When firſt at nature's early birth,
Heav'n ſent a man upon the earth,
Ev'n Eden was more fruitful found,
When Adam came to till the ground:
Shall then thoſe breaſts be fair in vain,
And only riſe to fall again?
[31]IV.
No, no, fair nymph—for no ſuch end
Did heav'n to thee its bounty lend;
That breaſt was ne'er deſign'd by fate,
For verſe, or things inanimate;
Then throw them from that downy bed,
And take the poet in their ſtead.

On an EAGLE confined in a College-Court. ODE XIII.

I.
IMperial bird, who wont to ſoar
High o'er the rolling cloud,
Where Hyperborean mountains hoar
Their heads in Ether ſhroud;—
Thou ſervant of almighty JOVE,
Who, free and ſwift as thought, could'ſt rove
To the bleak north's extremeſt goal;—
Thou, who magnanimous could'ſt bear
The ſovereign thund'rer's arms in air,
And ſhake thy native pole!—
II.
Oh cruel fate! what barbarous hand,
What more than Gothic ire,
At ſome fierce tyrant's dread command,
To check thy daring fire,
[32] Has plac'd thee in this ſervile cell,
Where Diſcipline and Dulneſs dwell,
Where Genius ne'er was ſeen to roam;
Where ev'ry ſelfiſh ſoul's at reſt,
Nor ever quits the carnal breaſt,
But lurks and ſneaks at home!
III.
Tho' dim'd thine eye, and clipt thy wing,
So grov'ling! once ſo great!
The grief-inſpired Muſe ſhall ſing
In tend'reſt lays thy fate.
What time by thee ſcholaſtic Pride
Takes his preciſe, pedantic ſtride,
Nor on thy mis'ry caſts a care,
The ſtream of love ne'er from his heart
Flows out, to act fair pity's part;
But ſtinks, and ſtagnates there.
IV.
Yet uſeful ſtill, hold to the throng—
Hold the reflecting glaſs,—
That not untutor'd at thy wrong
The paſſenger may paſs:
Thou type of wit and fenſe confin'd,
Cramp'd by the oppreſſors of the mind,
Who ſtudy downward on the ground;
Type of the fall of Greece and Rome;
While more than mathematic gloom,
Envelopes all around!

DE ARTE CRITICA. A LATIN VERSION OF Mr. POPE's Eſſay on CRITICISM.

[]
Nec me animi fallit—
Difficile illuſtrare Latinis verſibus eſſe
(Multa novis verbis praeſertim cum ſit agendum)
Propter egeſtatem linguae, & rerum novitatem. LUCRET.

AN ESSAY on CRITICISM.

[34]
'TIS hard to ſay, if greater want of ſkill
Appear in writing, or in judging ill;
But of the two, leſs dang'rous is th' offence
To tire our patience, than miſlead our ſenſe.
Some few in that, but numbers err in this,
Ten cenſure wrong, for one who writes amiſs.
A fool might once himſelf alone expoſe,
Now one in verſe makes many more in proſe.
'Tis with our judgments as our watches, none
Go juſt alike, yet each believes his own.
In poets as true genius is but rare,
True taſte as ſeldom is the critic's ſhare;
Both muſt alike from heav'n derive their light,
Theſe born to judge, as well as thoſe to write.
† Let ſuch teach others who themſelves excel,
And cenſure freely who have written well.
[36] Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true;
But are not criticks to their judgment too?
Yet if we look more cloſely, we ſhall find,
† Moſt have the ſeeds of judgment in their mind:
Nature affords at leaſt a glimm'ring light;
The lines, tho' touch'd but faintly, are drawn right.
But as the ſlighteſt-ſketch, if juſtly trac'd,
Is by ill-colouring but the more diſgrac'd,
So by falſe learning is good ſenſe defac'd.
Some are bewilder'd in the maze of ſchools,
And ſome made coxcombs, nature meant but fools.
In ſearch of wit, thoſe loſe their common ſenſe,
And then turn criticks in their own defence.
Each burns alike, who can, or cannot write,
Or with a rival's, or an eunuch's ſpite.
All fools have ſtill an itching to deride,
And fain wou'd be upon the laughing ſide:
If Maevius ſcribble in Apollo's ſpight,
There are, who judge ſtill worſe than he can write.
Some have at firſt for wits, then poets paſt,
Turn'd criticks next, and prov'd plain fools at laſt.
Some neither can for wits or criticks paſs,
As heavy mules are neither horſe, nor aſs.
[38] Thoſe half-learn'd witlings num'rous in our iſle,
As half-form'd inſects on the banks of Nile,
Unfiniſh'd things one knows not what to call,
Their generation's ſo equivocal:
To tell 'em, wou'd a hundred tongues require,
Or one vain wit's, that might a hundred tire.
But you who ſeek to give and merit Fame,
And juſtly bear a critick's noble name,
Be ſure yourſelf and your own reach to know,
How far your genius, taſte, and learning go.
Launch not beyond your depth, but be diſcreet,
And mark that point where ſenſe and dulneſs meet.
Nature to all things fix'd the limits fit,
And wiſely curb'd proud man's pretending wit.
As on the land while here the ocean gains,
In other parts it leaves wide ſandy plains.
Thus in the ſoul, while memory prevails,
The ſolid pow'r of underſtanding fails;
Where beams of warm imagination play,
The memory's ſoft figures melt away.
One ſcience only will one genius fit;
So vaſt is art, ſo narrow human wit:
Not only bounded to peculiar arts,
But oft in thoſe confin'd to ſingle parts.
Like kings, we loſe the conqueſts gain'd before,
By vain ambition ſtill to make them more.
[40] Each might his ſeveral province well command,
Would all but ſtoop to what they underſtand.
Firſt follow Nature, and your judgment frame
By her juſt ſtandard, which is ſtill the ſame.
Unerring Nature, ſtill divinely bright,
One clear, unchang'd, and univerſal light,
Life, force, and beauty muſt to all impart,
At once the ſource, and end, and teſt of art.
Art from that fund each juſt ſupply provides,
Works without ſhow, and without pomp preſides:
In ſome fair body thus th' informing ſoul
With ſpirits feeds, with vigour fills the whole,
Each motion guides, and ev'ry nerve ſuſtains;
Itſelf unſeen, but in th' effect, remains.
There are whom heav'n has bleſt with ſtore of wit,
Yet want as much again to manage it;
For wit and judgment ever are at ſtrife,
Tho' meant each other's aid, like man and wife.
'Tis more to guide, than ſpur, the Muſe's ſteed;
Reſtrain his fury, than provoke his ſpeed;
The winged courſer, like a gen'rous horſe,
Shows moſt true Mettle when you check his courſe.
Thoſe rules of old diſcover'd, not devis'd,
Are Nature ſtill, but Nature methodiz'd:
[42] Nature, like monarchy, is but reſtrain'd
By the ſame laws, which firſt herſelf ordain'd.
Hear how learn'd Greece her uſeful rules indites,
When to ſuppreſs, and when indulge our flights!
High on Parnaſſus' top her ſons ſhe ſhow'd,
And pointed out thoſe arduous paths they trod,
Held from afar, aloft, th' immortal prize,
And urg'd the reſt by equal ſteps to riſe.
Juſt † precepts thus from great examples giv'n,
She drew from them what they deriv'd from heav'n.
The generous critic fann'd the poet's fire,
And taught the world with reaſon to admire.
Then Criticiſm the Muſe's handmaid prov'd,
To dreſs her charms, and make her more belov'd:
But following wits from that intention ſtray'd:
Who could not win the miſtreſs woo'd the maid:
Againſt the poets their own arms they turn'd,
Sure to hate moſt the men from whom they learn'd.
So modern 'pothecaries taught the art,
By doctor's bills to play the doctor's part,
Bold in the practice of miſtaken rules,
Preſcribe, apply, and call their maſters fools.
Some on the leaves of ancient authors prey,
Nor time, nor moths e'er ſpoil'd ſo much as they.
[44] Some dryly plain, without invention's aid,
Write dull receipts how poems ſhould be made.
Theſe loſe the ſenſe their learning to diſplay,
And thoſe explain the meaning quite away.
You then whoſe judgment the right courſe wou'd ſteer,
Know well each Ancient's proper character,
His fable, ſubject, ſcope of ev'ry page,
Religion, country, genius of his age:
Without all theſe at once before your eyes,
Cavil you may, but never criticize
Be Homer's works your ſtudy and delight,
Read him by day and meditate by night.
Thence form your judgment, thence your notions bring,
And trace the Muſes upward to their ſpring.
Still with itſelf compar'd, his text peruſe;
Or let your comment be the Mantuan muſe.
† When firſt young Maro ſung of kings and wars,
Ere warning Phoebus touch'd his trembling ears,
Perhaps he ſeem'd above the critic's law,
And but from nature's fountains ſcorn'd to draw;
But when t'examine every part he came,
Nature and Homer were, he found, the ſame;
Convinc'd, amaz'd, he checks the bold deſign,
And rules as ſtrict his labour'd work confine,
As if the Stagyrite o'erlook'd each line.
[46] Learn hence for ancient rules a juſt eſteem,
To copy nature, is to copy them.
Some beauties yet, no precepts can declare,
For there's a happineſs as well as care.
Muſic reſembles poetry, in each
Are nameleſs graces which no methods teach,
And which a maſter-hand alone can reach.
† If where the rules not far enough extend,
(Since rules were made but to promote their end)
Some lucky licence anſwers to the full
Th' intent propos'd, that licence is a rule.
Thus Pegaſus a nearer way to take,
May boldly deviate from the common track.
Great wits ſometimes may gloriouſly offend,
And riſe to faults true criticks dare not mend;
From vulgar bounds with brave diſorder part,
And ſnatch a grace beyond the reach of art,
Which, without paſſing thro' the judgment, gains
The heart, and all its end at once attains
In proſpects thus ſome objects pleaſe our eyes,
Which out of nature's common order riſe,
The ſhapeleſs rock, or hanging precipice.
But care in poetry muſt ſtill be had,
It aſks diſcretion ev'n in running mad:
[48] And tho' the antients thus their rules invade,
(As kings diſpenſe with laws themſelves have made)
Moderns beware! or if you muſt offend
Againſt the precept, ne'er tranſgreſs its end.
Let it be ſeldom, and compell'd by need,
And have, at leaſt, their precedent to plead.
The critic elſe proceeds without remorſe,
Seizes your fame, and puts his laws in force.
I know there are, to whoſe preſumptuous thoughts
Thoſe freer beauties, even in them, ſeem faults.
Some figures monſtrous, and miſs-ſhap'd appear,
Conſider'd ſingly, or beheld too near,
Which, but proportion'd to their light, or place,
Due diſtance reconciles to form and grace.
A prudent chief not always muſt diſplay
His pow'rs in equal ranks, and fair array;
But with th' occaſion, and the place comply,
Conceal his force, nay, ſometimes ſeem to fly.
Thoſe oft are ſtratagems which errors ſeem,
Nor is it Homer nods, but we that dream.
Still green with bays each ancient altar ſtands,
Above the reach of ſacrilegious hands;
Secure from flames, from envy's fiercer rage,
Deſtructive war, and all-devouring age.
See, from each clime the learn'd their incenſe bring;
Hear in all tongues conſenting paeans ring!
[50] In praiſe ſo juſt let ev'ry voice be join'd,
And fill the general chorus of mankind!
Hail, bards triumphant! born in happier days,
Immortal heirs of univerſal praiſe!
Whoſe honours with increaſe of ages grow,
As ſtreams roll down enlarging as they flow!
Nations unborn your mighty names ſhall ſound,
And worlds applaud that muſt not yet be found!
Oh! may ſome ſpark of your celeſtial fire
The laſt, the meaneſt of your ſons inſpire,
(That on weak wings from far purſues your flights,
Glows while he reads, but trembles as he writes)
To teach vain wits a ſcience little known,
T'admire ſuperior ſenſe and doubt their own.
Of all the cauſes which conſpire to blind
Man's erring judgment, and miſguide the mind;
What the weak head with ſtrongeſt bias rules,
Is pride, the never-failing vice of fools.
Whatever nature has in worth deny'd,
She gives, in large recruits of needful pride;
For as in bodies, thus in ſouls we find,
What wants in blood and ſpirits, ſwell'd with wind:
Pride, where wit fails, ſteps in to our defence,
And fills up all the mighty void of ſenſe!
If once right reaſon drives that cloud away,
Truth breaks upon us with reſiſtleſs day;
[52] Truſt not yourſelf by your defects to know,
Make uſe of ev'ry friend—and ev'ry foe.
A little learning is a dang'rous thing,
Drink deep, or taſte not the Pierian ſpring;
There ſhallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
And drinking largely ſobers us again.
Fir'd at firſt ſight with what the muſe imparts,
In fearleſs youth we tempt the heights of arts,
While from the bounded level of our mind,
Short views we take, nor ſee the lengths behind;
But more advanc'd, behold with ſtrange ſurprize
New diſtant ſcenes of endleſs ſcience riſe!
So pleas'd at firſt the tow'ring Alps we try,
Mount o'er the vales, and ſeem to tread the ſky,
Th' eternal ſnows appear already paſt,
And the firſt clouds and mountains ſeem the laſt;
But thoſe attain'd, we tremble to ſurvey
The growing labour of the lengthen'd way,
Th' increaſing proſpect tires our wond'ring eyes,
Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps ariſe!
† A perfect judge will read each work of wit
With the ſame ſpirit that its author writ,
[54] Survey the whole, nor ſeek ſlight faults to find,
Where nature moves, and rapture warms the mind;
Nor loſe, for that malignant, dull delight,
The gen'rous pleaſure to be charm'd with wit:
But in ſuch lays as neither ebb nor flow,
Correctly cold, and regularly low,
That ſhunning faults, one quiet temper keep,
We cannot blame indeed—but we may ſleep▪
In wit, as nature, what affects our hearts
Is not th' exactneſs of peculiar parts:
'Tis not a lip, nor eye, we beauty call,
But the joint force, and full reſult of all.
Thus when we view ſome well-proportion'd dome,
(The world's juſt wonderd, and ev'n thine, O Rome!)
No ſingle parts unequally ſurprize,
All comes united to the admiring eyes;
No monſtrous height, or breadth, or length appear;
The whole at once is bold and regular.
Whoever thinks a faultleſs piece to ſee,
Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er ſhall be.
In ev'ry work regard the writer's end,
Since none can compaſs more than they intend;
And if the means be juſt, the conduct true,
Applauſe, in ſpight of trivials faults, is due.
As men of breeding, ſometimes men of wit,
T'avoid great errors, muſt the leſs commit.
[56] Neglect the rules each verbal critic lays,
For not to know ſome trifles is a praiſe.
Moſt critics fond of ſome ſubſervient art,
Still make the whole depend upon a part,
They talk of principles, but notions prize,
And all to one lov'd folly ſacrifice.
Once, on a time, la Mancha's knight, they ſay,
A certain bard encount'ring on the way,
Diſcours'd in terms as juſt, in looks as ſage,
As e'er cou'd Dennis, of the Grecian ſtage;
Concluding all were deſp'rate ſots, and fools,
That durſt depart from Ariſtotle's rules.
Our author happy in a judge ſo nice,
Produc'd his play, and begg'd the knight's advice;
Made him obſerve the ſubject, and the plot,
The manners, paſſions, unities, what not?
All which, exact to rule, were brought about,
Were but a combat in the liſts left out
"What! leave the combat out?" exclaims the knight;
Yes, or we muſt renounce the Stagyrite.
"Not ſo, by heav'n! (he anſwers in a rage)
"Knights, ſquires, and ſteeds, muſt enter on the ſtage."
The ſtage can ne'er ſo vaſt a throng contain.
"Then build a-new, or act it on a plain."
Thus critics of leſs judgment than caprice,
Curious, not knowing, not exact, but nice,
[58] Form ſhort ideas, and offend in arts
(As moſt in manners) by a love to parts.
Some to conceit alone their taſte confine,
And glitt'ring thoughts ſtruck out at ev'ry line;
Pleas'd with a work, where nothing's juſt or fit,
One glaring chaos, and wild heap of wit.
Poets like painters, thus unſkill'd to trace
The naked nature, and the living grace,
With gold and jewels cover ev'ry part,
And hide with ornaments their want of art.
True † wit is nature to advantage dreſs'd,
What oft was thought, but ne'er ſo well expreſs'd;
Something, whoſe truth convinc'd at ſight, we find,
That gives us back the image of our mind.
As ſhades more ſweetly recommend the light,
So modeſt plainneſs ſets off ſprightly wit:
For works may have more wit than does them good,
As bodies periſh through exceſs of blood.
Others, for language all their care expreſs,
And value books, as women men, for dreſs:
Their praiſe is ſtill—the ſtyle is excellent;
The ſenſe they humbly take upon content.
[60] Words are like leaves, and where they moſt abound,
Much fruit of ſenſe beneath is rarely found.
Falſe eloquence, like the priſmatic glaſs,
Its gaudy colours ſpreads on ev'ry place;
The face of nature we no more ſurvey,
All glares alike, without diſtinction gay;
But true expreſſion, like th' unchanging ſun;
Clears and improves whate'er it ſhines upon,
It gilds all objects but it alters none.
Expreſſion is the dreſs of thought, and ſtill
Appears more decent, as more ſuitable;
A vile conceit in pompous words expreſs'd,
Is like a clown in regal purple dreſs'd;
For diff'rent ſtyles with diff'rent ſubjects ſort,
As ſev'ral garbs, with country, town, and court.
Some * by old words to fame have made pretence,
Ancients in phraſe, meer moderns in their ſenſe!
Such labour'd nothings in ſo ſtrange a ſtyle,
Amaze the unlearn'd, and make the learned ſmile.
Unlucky, as Fungoſo in the † play;
Theſe ſparks with aukward vanity diſplay
What the fine gentleman wore yeſterday.
[62] And but ſo mimic ancient wits at beſt,
As apes our grandſires in their doublets dreſt.
In words, as faſhions, the ſame rule will hold;
Alike fantaſtic, if too new, or old;
Be not the firſt by whom the new are try'd,
Nor yet the laſt to lay the old aſide.
* But moſt by numbers judge a poet's ſong,
And ſmoth, or rough, with them, is right or wrong;
In the bright muſe tho' thouſand charms conſpire,
Her voice is all theſe tuneful fools admire;
Who haunt Parnaſſus but to pleaſe the ear,
Not mend their minds, as ſome to church repair,
Not for the doctrine, but the muſic there.
Theſe equal ſyllables alone require,
Tho' † oft the ear the open vowels tire;
While expletives their feeble aid do join,
And ten low words oft creep in one dull line;
While they ring round the ſame unvary'd chimes,
With ſure returns of ſtill-expected rhymes.
Where'er you find, the cooling weſtern breeze,
In the next line, it whiſpers thro' the trees,
[64] If cryſtal ſtreams, with pleaſing murmurs creep,
The reader's threat'ned, not in vain, with ſleep.
Then at the laſt, and only couplet fraught
With ſome unmeaning thing they call a thought,
A needleſs Alexandrine ends the ſong,
That like a wounded ſnake, drags its ſlow length along.
Leave ſuch to tune their own dull rhymes, and know
What's roundly ſmooth, or languiſhingly ſlow,
And praiſe the eaſy vigour of a line
Where Denham's ſtrength, and Waller's ſweetneſs join.
True eaſe in writing comes from art not chance,
As thoſe move eaſieſt who have learn'd to dance.
'Tis not enough no harſhneſs gives offence,
The ſound muſt ſeem an echo to the ſenſe.
Soft is the ſtrain when Zephyr gently blows,
And the ſmooth ſtream in ſmoother numbers flows,
But when loud billows laſh the ſounding ſhore,
The hoarſe rough verſe ſhould like the torrent roar.
When Ajax ſtrives, ſome rock's vaſt weight to throw,
The line too labours, and the words move ſlow,
Not ſo, when ſwift Camilla ſcours the plain,
Flies o'er th' unbending corn, and ſkims along the main.
Hear how * Timotheus various lays ſurprize,
And bid alternate paſſions fall and riſe!
[66] While at each change the ſon of Lybian Jove,
Now burns with glory, and then melts with love;
Now fierce his eyes with ſparkling fury glow!
Now ſighs ſteal out, and tears begin to flow;
Perſians and Greeks like turns of nature found,
And the world's victor ſtood ſubdu'd by ſound!
The pow'r of muſic all our hearts allow,
And what Timotheus was, is Dryden now.
Avoid extremes, and ſhun the fault of ſuch,
Who ſtill are pleas'd too little, or too much.
At ev'ry trifle ſcorn to take offence,
That always ſhows great pride, or little ſenſe.
Thoſe heads, as ſtomachs, are not ſure the beſt,
Which nauſeate all, and nothing can digeſt.
Yet let not each gay turn thy rapture move;
For fools admire, but men of ſenſe approve.
As things ſeem large which we thro' miſts deſcry,
Dulneſs is ever apt to magnify.
Some the French writers, ſome our own deſpiſe;
The ancients only, or the moderns prize.
(Thus wit, like faith, by each man is apply'd
To one ſmall ſect, and all are damn'd beſide,)
[68] Meanly they ſeek the bleſſing to confine,
And force that ſun but on a part to ſhine,
Which not alone the ſouthern wit ſublimes,
But ripens ſpirits in cold northern climes,
Which from the firſt has ſhone on ages paſt,
Enlights the preſent, and ſhall warm the laſt.
(Tho' each may feel increaſes and decays,
And ſee now clearer and now darker days)
Regard not then if wit be old or new,
But blame the falſe and value ſtill the true.
Some ne'er advance a judgment of their own,
But catch the ſpeading notion of the town;
They reaſon and conclude by precedent,
And own ſtale nonſenſe, which they ne'er invent.
Some judge of authors names, not works, and then
Nor praiſe, nor blame the writings, but the men.
Of all this ſervile herd, the worſt is he
Who in proud dulneſs joins with quality,
A conſtant critic at the great man's board,
To fetch and carry nonſenſe for my lord.
Wh [...]t woful ſtuff this madrigal wou'd be,
In ſome ſtarved hackney ſonneteer, or me?
But let a lord once own the happy lines,
How the wit brightens, how the ſtyle refines!
[70] Before his ſacred name flies ev'ry fault,
And each exalted ſtanza ſteems with thought!
The vulgar thus thro' imitation err,
As oft the learn'd by being ſingular;
So much they ſcorn the croud, that if the throng
By chance go right, they purpoſely go wrong:
So ſchiſmatics the plain believers quit,
And are but damn'd for having too much wit.
Some blame at morning what they praiſe at night;
But always think the laſt opinion right.
A muſe by theſe is like a miſtreſs us'd,
This hour ſhe's idoliz'd, the next abus'd;
While their weak heads like towns unfortify'd,
'Twixt ſenſe and nonſenſe daily change their ſide.
Aſk them the cauſe, they're wiſer ſtill they ſay;
And ſtill to-morrow's wiſer than to-day.
We think our fathers fools, ſo wiſe we grow;
Our wiſer ſons, no doubt, will think us ſo.
Once ſchool-divines this zealous iſle oe'erſpread;
Who knew moſt ſentences, was deepeſt read;
[72] Faith, goſpel, all, ſeem'd made to be diſputed,
And none had ſenſe enough to be confuted:
Scotiſts and Thomiſts, now in peace remain,
Amidſt their kindred cobwebs in Duck-lane.
If faith itſelf has diff'rent dreſſes worn,
What wonder modes in wit ſhou'd take their turn?
Oft leaving what is natural and fit,
The current folly proves the ready wit;
And authors think their reputation ſafe,
Which lives as long as fools are pleas'd to laugh.
Some valuing thoſe of their own ſide or mind,
Still make themſelves the meaſure of mankind;
Fondly we think we honour merit then,
When we but praiſe ourſelves in other men.
Parties in wit attend on thoſe of ſtate,
And public faction doubles private hate.
Pride, malice, folly, againſt Dryden roſe,
In various ſhapes of parſons, critics, beaus;
But ſenſe ſurviv'd when merry jeſts were paſt;
For riſing merit will buoy up at laſt.
Might he return and bleſs once more our eyes,
New Blackmores and new Milbournes muſt ariſe;
Nay, ſhou'd great Homer lift his awful head,
Zoilus again wou'd ſtart up from the dead.
[74] Envy will merit, as its ſhade purſue,
But like a ſhadow proves the ſubſtance true;
For envy'd wit, like Sol eclips'd, makes known
Th' oppoſing body's groſſneſs, not its own.
When firſt the ſun too pow'rful beams diſplays,
It draws up vapours which obſcure the rays;
But ev'n thoſe clouds at laſt adorn its way,
Reflect new glories and augment the day.
Be thou the firſt true merit to befriend,
His praiſe is loſt who ſtays till all commend.
Short is the date, alas! of modern rhymes,
And 'tis but juſt to let them live betimes.
No longer now that golden age appears,
When patriarch-wits ſurviv'd a thouſand years;
Now length of fame (our ſecond life) is loſt,
And bare threeſcore, is all ev'n that can boaſt;
Our ſons their fathers failing language ſee,
And ſuch as Chaucer is, ſhall Dryden be.
So when the faithful pencil has deſign'd
Some bright idea of the maſter's mind,
Where a new world leaps out at his command,
And ready nature waits upon his hand;
[76] When the ripe colours ſoften and unite,
And ſweetly melt into juſt ſhade and light,
When mellowing years their full perfection give,
And each bold figure juſt begins to live,
The treach'rous colours the fair art betray,
And all the bright creation fades away.
Unhappy wit, like moſt miſtaken things,
Attones not for the envy which it brings.
In youth alone its empty praiſe we boaſt,
But ſoon the ſhort-liv'd vanity is loſt!
Like ſome fair flow'r the early ſpring ſupplies,
That gaily blooms, but ev'n in blooming dies.
What is this wit which moſt our cares employ?
The owner's wife, that other men enjoy;
Still moſt our trouble, when the moſt admir'd;
The more we give, the more is ſtill requir'd:
The fame with pains we gain, but loſe with eaſe,
Sure ſome to vex, but never all to pleaſe;
'Tis what the vicious fear; the virtuous ſhun,
By fools 'tis hated, and by knaves undone!
[78]
If wit ſo much from ign'rance undergo,
Ah, let not learning too commence its foe!
Of old, thoſe met rewards who cou'd excel,
And ſuch were prais'd, who but endeavour'd well;
Tho' triumphs were to gen'rals only due,
Crowns were reſerv'd to grace the ſoldier too.
Now they who reach Parnaſſus lofty crown,
Employ their pains to ſpurn ſome others down;
And while ſelf-love each jealous writer rules,
Contending wits become the ſport of fools.
But ſtill the worſt with moſt regret commend,
For each ill author is as bad a friend.
To what baſe end, and by what abject ways,
Are mortals urg'd thro' ſacred luſt of praiſe!
Ah, ne'er ſo dire a thirſt of glory boaſt,
Nor in the critic let the man be loſt:
Good-nature, and good-ſenſe muſt ever join;
To err is human, to forgive divine.
But if in noble minds ſome dregs remain,
Not yet purg'd off, of ſpleen and ſour diſdain;
Diſcharge that rage on more provoking crimes,
Nor fear a dearth in theſe flagitious times.
No pardon vile obſcenity ſhou'd find,
Tho' wit and art conſpire to move your mind:
[80] But dulneſs with obſcenity muſt prove,
As ſhameful ſure as impotence in love.
In the fat age of pleaſure, wealth and eaſe,
Sprung the rank weed, and thriv'd with large increaſe;
When love was all an eaſy monarch's care,
Seldom at a council, never in a war:
Jilts rul'd the ſtate, and ſtateſmen farces writ;
Nay wits had penſions, and young lords had wit:
The fair ſate panting at a courtier's play,
And not a maſk went unimprov'd away:
The modeſt fan was lifted up no more,
And virgins ſmil'd at what they bluſh'd before—
The following licence of a foreign reign
Did all the dregs of bold Socinus drain;
Then unbelieving prieſts reform'd the nation,
And taught more pleaſant methods of ſalvation;
Where heaven's free ſubjects might their rights diſpute,
Leſt God himſelf ſhould ſeem too abſolute.
Pulpits their ſacred ſatire learn'd to ſpare,
And vice admir'd to find a flatt'rer there!
Encourag'd thus, wit's Titans brav'd the ſkies,
And the preſs groan'd with licenc'd blaſphemies—
[82] Theſe monſters, critics, with your darts engage,
Here point your thunder, and exhauſt your rage!
Yet ſhun their fault, who ſcandalouſly nice,
Will needs miſtake an author into vice;
All ſeems infected that th' infected ſpy,
As all looks yellow to the jaundic'd eye.
Learn then what morals critics ought to ſhow,
For 'tis but half a judge's taſk to know.
'Tis not enough wit, art, and learning join;
In all you ſpeak, let truth and candour ſhine:
That not alone what to your judgment's due
All may allow; but ſeek your friendſhip too.
Be ſilent always when you doubt your ſenſe;
And ſpeak, tho' ſure, with ſeeming diffidence;
Some poſitive, perſiſting fops we know,
That if once wrong, will needs be always ſo;
But you with pleaſure own your errors paſt,
And make each day, a critic on the laſt.
'Tis not enough your counſel ſtill be true,
Blunt truths more miſchief than nice falſhoods do;
Men muſt be taught as if you taught 'em not,
And things unknown propos'd as things forgot.
[84] Without good-breeding, truth is diſapprov'd;
That only makes ſuperior ſenſe belov'd.
Be niggards of advice on no pretence;
For the worſt avarice is that of ſenſe.
With mean complacence ne'er betray your truſt,
Nor be ſo civil as to prove unjuſt;
Fear moſt the anger of the wiſe to raiſe,
Thoſe beſt can bear reproof who merit praiſe.
'Twere well, might critics ſtill this freedom take,
But Appius reddens at each word you ſpeak,
And ſtares, tremendous with a threat'ning eye,
Like ſome fierce tyrant in old tapeſtry!
Fear moſt to tax an honourable fool,
Whoſe right it is uncenſur'd to be dull;
Such without wit are poets when they pleaſe,
As without learning they can take degrees.
Leave dang'rous truths to unſucceſsful ſatyrs,
And flattery to fulſome dedicators,
Whom, when they praiſe, the world believes no more,
Than when they promiſe to give ſcribbling o'er.
'Tis beſt ſometimes your cenſure to reſtrain
And charitably let the dull be vain.
[86] Your ſilence there is better than your ſpite,
For who can rail ſo long as they can write?
Still humming on their drowſy courſe they keep,
And laſh'd ſo long, like tops, are laſh'd aſleep.
Falſe ſteps but help them to renew the race,
As after ſtumbling, jades will mend their pace:
What crouds of theſe, impertinently bold,
In ſounds, and jing'ling ſyllables grown old,
Still run on poets in a raging vein,
Ev'n to the dregs, and ſqueezings of the brain:
Strain out the laſt dull droppings of their ſenſe,
And rhyme with all the rage of impotence.
Such ſhameleſs bards we have, and yet 'tis true,
There are as mad abandon'd critics too.
The book-full blockhead, ignorantly read,
With loads of learned lumber in his head,
With his own tongue, ſtill edifies his ears,
And always liſtning to himſelf appears—
All books he reads, and all he reads aſſails
From Dryden's fables, down to Durfy's tales.
With him moſt authors ſteal their works, or buy;
Garth did not write his own diſpenſary.
Name a new play, and he's the poet's friend,
Nay, ſhow'd his faults—but when wou'd poets mend?
[88] No place ſo ſacred from ſuch fops is barr'd,
Nor is Paul's-church more ſafe than Paul's-church-yard;
Nay fly to altars; there he'll talk you dead;
For fools ruſh in where angels fear to tread.
Diſtruſtful ſenſe with modeſt caution ſpeaks,
It ſtill looks home, and ſhort excurſions makes,
But rattling nonſenſe in full vollies breaks,
And never ſhock'd, and never turn'd aſide,
Burſts out, reſiſtleſs, with a thund'ring tide!
But where's the man, who counſel can beſtow,
Still pleas'd to teach, and yet not proud to know?
Unbias'd, or by favour, or by ſpite;
Not dully prepoſſeſs'd, or blindly right,
Tho' learn'd, well-bred; and tho' well-bred, ſincere,
Modeſtly bold, and humanely ſevere?
Who to a friend his faults can freely ſhow,
And gladly praiſe the merit of a foe?
Bleſt with a taſte exact and unconfin'd;
A knowledge both of books and human kind;
Gen'rous converſe; a ſoul exempt from pride,
And love to praiſe, with reaſon on his ſide?
Such once were critics; ſuch the happy few,
Athens and Rome in better ages knew.
The mighty Stagyrite firſt left the ſhore,
Spread all his ſails, and durſt the deep explore;
[90] He ſteer'd ſecurely, and diſcover'd far,
Led by the light of the Maeonian ſtar.
Poets, a race long unconfin'd and free,
Still fond and proud of ſavage liberty,
Receiv'd his laws, and ſtood convinc'd 'twas fit,
Who conquer'd nature, ſhould preſide o'er wit.
Horace ſtill charms with graceful negligence,
And without method talks us into ſenſe,
Will like a friend, familiarly convey
The trueſt notions in the eaſieſt way;
He, who ſupreme in judgment, as in wit,
Might boldly cenſure, as he boldly writ;
Yet judg'd with coolneſs, tho' he ſung with fire,
His precepts teach but what his works inſpire.
Our critics take a contrary extreme
They judge with fury, but they write with phlegm;
Nor ſuffers Horace more in wrong tranſlations
By wits, than critics in as wrong quotations.
See Dionyſius * Homer's thoughts refine,
And call new beauties forth from ev'ry line.
Fancy and art in gay Petronius pleaſe,
The ſcholar's learning, with the courtier's eaſe.
In grave Quintilian's copious work we find
The juſteſt rules, and cleareſt method join'd;
[92] Thus uſeful arms in magazines we place,
All rang'd in order, and diſpos'd with grace.
Nor thus alone the curious eye to pleaſe,
But to be found when need requires with eaſe.
Thee, bold Longinus! all the Nine inſpire,
And bleſs their critic with a poet's fire;
An ardent judge, who zealous in his truſt
With warmth gives ſentence, yet is always juſt;
Whoſe own example ſtrengthens all his laws,
And is himſelf that great ſublime he draws.
Thus long ſucceeding critics juſtly reign'd
Licence repreſs'd, and uſeful laws ordain'd.
Learning and Rome alike in empire grew,
And arts ſtill follow'd where her eagles flew;
From the ſame foes, at laſt, both felt their doom,
And the ſame age ſaw learning fall and Rome.
With tyranny, then ſuperſtition join'd,
As that the body, this enſlav'd the mind;
Much was believ'd, but little underſtood,
And to be dull was conſtru'd to be good;
A ſecond deluge learning thus o'er-run,
And the Monks finiſh'd what the Goths begun.
At length Eraſmus, that great injur'd name,
(The glory of the prieſt-hood, and the ſhame)
[94] Stemn'd the wild torrent of a barb'rous age,
And drove thoſe holy Vandals off the ſtage.
But ſee each muſe in Leo's golden days,
Starts from her trance, and trims her wither'd bays!
Rome's ancient genius, o'er its ruins ſpread,
Shakes off the duſt, and rears his rev'rend head!
Then Sculpture and her ſiſter arts revive,
Stones leap'd to form, and rocks began to live;
With ſweeter notes each riſing temple rung;
A Raphael painted, and a * Vida ſung!
Immortal Vida! on whoſe honour'd brow
The poets bays, and critics ivy grow:
Cremona now ſhall ever boaſt thy name,
As next in place to Mantua, next in fame!
But ſoon by impious arms from Latium chac'd,
Their ancient bounds the baniſh'd muſes paſt;
Thence arts o'er all the northern world advance;
But critic learning flouriſh'd moſt in France:
The rules, a nation born to ſerve obeys;
And Boileau ſtill in right of Horace ſways;
But we, brave Britons, foreign laws deſpis'd,
And kept unconquer'd, and unciviliz'd,
[96] Fierce for the liberties of wit, and bold,
We ſtill deſy'd the Romans, as of old.
Yet ſome there were among the founder few
Of thoſe who leſs preſum'd, and better knew,
Who durſt aſſert the juſter ancient cauſe,
And here reſtor'd wit's fundamental laws.
Such was the muſe, whoſe rules and practice tell,
Nature's * chief maſter-piece is writing well.
Such was Roſcommon—not more learn'd than good,
With manners gen'rous as his noble blood;
To him the wit of Greece and Rome was known,
And ev'ry author's merit but his own.
Such late was Walſh—the muſe's judge and friend;
Who juſtly knew to blame, or to commend;
To failings mild, but zealous for deſert;
The cleareſt head, and the ſincereſt heart.
This humble praiſe, lamented ſhade! receive,
This praiſe at leaſt a grateful muſe may give!
The muſe, whoſe early voice you taught to ſing,
Preſcrib'd her heights, and prun'd her tender wing;
(Her guide now loſt) no more pretends to riſe,
But in low numbers ſhort excurſions tries;
Content, if hence th' unlearn'd their wants may view,
The learn'd reflect on what before they knew:
[98] Careleſs of cenſure, nor too fond of fame,
Still pleas'd to praiſe, yet not afraid to blame:
Averſe alike to flatter or offend,
Not free from faults, nor yet too vain to mend.

DE ARTE CRITICA.

[35]
DICTU difficile eſt, an ſit dementia major
Egiſſe invitâ vatem criticumne Minervâ;
Ille tamen certe venia tibi dignior errat
Qui laſſat, quam qui ſeducit in avia, ſenſus.
Sunt, qui abſurda canunt; ſed enim ſtultiſſima ſtultos
Quam longe exuperat oriticorum natio vates;
Se ſolum exhibuit quondam, melioribus annis
Natus hebes, ridendum; at nunc muſa improba prolem
Innumeram gignit, quae mox ſermone ſoluto
Aequiparet ſtolidos verſus, certetque ſtupendo.
Nobis judicium, veluti quae dividit horas
Machina, conſtruitur, motus non omnibus idem,
Non pretium, regit uſque tamen ſua quemque. Poetas
Divite perpaucos venâ donavit Apollo,
Et criticis recte ſapere eſt rariſſima virtus;
Arte in utraque nitent felices indole ſoli,
Muſaque quos placido naſcentes lumine vidit.
Ille alios melius, qui inclaruit ipſe, docebit,
Jureque quam meruit, poterit tribuiſſe coronam.
[37] Scriptores (fateor) fidunt propriae nimis arti,
Nonne autem criticos pravus favor urget ibidem?
At vero propius ſi ſtemus, cuique fatendum eſt,
Judicium quoddam natura inſeverit olim:
Illa diem certe dubiam diffundere callet
Et, ſtrictim deſcripta licet, ſibi linea conſtat.
Sed minimum ut ſpecimen, quod pictor doctus adumbrat,
Deterius tibi fiat eo mage, quo mage vilem
Inducas iſti fucum, ſic mentis honeſtae
Doctrina effigiem maculabit prava decoram.
His inter caecas mens illaqueata ſcholarum
Ambages errat, ſtolidiſque ſupervenit illis
(Diis aliter viſum eſt) petulantia. Perdere ſenſum
Communem hi ſudant, dum fruſtra aſcendere Pindum
Conantur, mox, ut ſe defenſoribus ipſis
Utantur, critici quoque fiunt: omnibus idem
Ardor ſcribendi, ſtudio hi rivalis aguntur,
Illis invalida Eunuchi violentia gliſcit.
Ridendi proprium eſt fatuis cacoethes, amantque
Turbae perpetuo ſeſe immiſcere jocoſae.
Maevius invito dum ſudat Apolline, multi
Pingue opus exuperant (ſi diis placet) emendando.
Sunt qui belli homines primo, tum deinde poetae,
Mox critici evaſêre, meri tum denique ſtulti.
Eſt, qui nec criticum nec vatem reddit, inerſque
Ut mulus, medium quoddam eſt aſinum inter equmuque.
[39] Bellula ſemihominum vix poene elementa ſcientum
Primula gens horum eſt, premitur quibus Anglia, quantum
Imperfecta ſcatent ripis animalcula Nili,
Futile, abortivum genus, & prope nominis expers,
Uſque adeo aequivoca eſt, e quâ generantur, origo.
Hos centum nequeunt linguae numerare, nec una
Unius ex ipſis, quae centum ſola fatiget.
At tu qui famam ſimul exigis atque redonas
Pro meritis, criticique affectas nobile nomen.
Metitor te ipſum, prudenſque expendito quae ſit
Judicii, ingenii tibi, doctrinaeque facultas;
Si qua profunda nimis cauto vitentor, & iſta
Linea, quâ coeunt ſtupor ingeniumque, notator.
Qui finem impoſuit rebus Deus omnibus aptum,
Humani vanum ingenii reſtrinxit acumen.
Qualis ubi oceani vis noſtra irrumpit in arva
Tunc deſolatas alibi denudat arenas;
Sic animae reminiſcendi dum copia reſtat,
Conſilii gravioris abeſt plerumque poteſtas;
Aſt ubi Phantaſiae fulgent radiantia tela,
Mnemoſyne teneris cum formis victa liqueſcit.
Ingenio tantum Muſa uni ſufficit una,
Tanta ars eſt, tantilla ſcientia noſtra videtur:
Non ſolum ad certas artes aſtricta ſequendas,
Saepe has non niſi quâdam in ſimplice parte ſequatur.
Deperdas partos utcunque labore triumphos,
Dum plures, regum inſtar, aves acquirere laurus;
[41] Sed ſua tractatu facilis provincia cuique eſt,
Si non, quae pulchre ſciat, ut vulgaria, temnat.
Naturam ſequere imprimis, atque illius aequâ
Judicium ex normâ fingas, quae neſcia flecti:
Illa etenim, ſine labe micans, ab origine divâ,
Clarâ, conſtanti, luſtrantique omnia luce,
Vitamque, ſpecimque, & vires omnibus addat,
Et fons, & finis ſimul, atque criterion artis.
Quaerit opes ex hoc theſauro ars, & ſine pompâ
Praeſidet, & nullas turbas facit inter agendum.
Talis vivida vis formoſo in corpore mentis,
Laetitiam toti inſpirans & robora maſſae,
Ordinat & motus, & nervos ſuſtinet omnes,
Inter opus varium tamen ipſa abſcondita fallit.
Saepe is, cui magnum ingenium Deus addidit, idem
Indigus eſt majoris, ut hoc benè calleat uti;
Ingenium nam judicio velut uxor habendum eſt
Atque viro, cui fas ut pareat, uſque repugnat.
Muſae quadrupedem labor eſt inhibere capiſtro,
Praecipites regere, at non irritare volatus.
Pegaſos, inſtar equi generoſi, grandior ardet
Cum ſentit retinacula, nobiliorque tuetur.
Regula quaeque vetus tantum obſervata peritis
Non inventa fuit criticis, debetque profectò
Naturae aſcribi, ſed enim quam lima polivit;
[43] Nullas naturae divina monarchia leges,
Exceptis ſolum quas ſanxerit ipſa, veretur.
Qualibus, audiſtin' reſonat celeberrima normis
Graecia, ſeu doctum premit, indulgetve furorem?
Illa ſuos ſiſtit Parnaſſi in vertice natos,
Et, quibus aſcendêre docet, ſalebroſa viarum,
Sublimique manu dona immortalia monſtrat,
Atque aequis reliquos procedere paſſibus urget.
Sic magnis doctrinâ ex exemplaribus hauſtâ,
Sumit ab hiſce, quod haec duxerunt ab Jove ſummo.
Ingenuus judex muſarum ventilat ignes,
Et fretus ratione docet praecepta placendi.
Ars critica officioſa Camoenae ſervit, & ornat
Egregias veneres, plureſque irretit amantes.
Nunc vero docti longè diverſa ſequentes,
Contempti dominae, vilem petiêre miniſtram;
Propriaque in miſeros verterunt tela poetas,
Diſcipulique ſuos pro more odêre magiſtros.
Haud aliter ſanè noſtrates pharmacopolae
Ex medicûm crevit quibus ars plagiaria chartis,
Audaces errorum adhibent ſine mente medelas,
Et verae Hippocratis jactant convicia proli.
Hi veterum authorum ſcriptis veſcuntur, & ipſos
Vermiculos, & tempus edax vicêre vorando.
[45] Stultitiâ ſimplex ille, & ſine divite venà,
Carmina quo fiant pacto miſerabilè narrat.
Doctrinam oſtentans, mentem alter perdidit omnem,
Atque alter nodis vafer implicat enodando.
Tu quicunque cupis judex procedere rectè,
Fac veteris cujuſque ſtylus diſcatur ad unguem;
Fabula, materies, quo tendat pagina quaevis;
Patria, religio quae ſint, queis moribus aevum:
Si non intuitu cuncta haec complecteris uno,
Scurra, cavilator—criticus mihi non eris unquam.
Ilias eſto tibi ſtudium, tibi ſola voluptas,
Perque diem lege, per noctes meditare ſerenas;
Hinc tibi judicium, hinc ortum ſententia ducat,
Muſarumque undas ſontem bibe laetus ad ipſum.
Ipſe ſuorum operum ſit commentator, & author,
Maeonidiſve legas interprete ſcripta Marone.
Cum caneret primum parvus Maro bella viroſque,
Nec monitor Phoebus tremulas jam velleret aures,
Legibus immunem criticis ſe fortè putabat,
Nil niſi naturam archetypam dignatus adire:
Sed ſimul ac cautè mentem per ſingula volvit,
Naturam invenit, quacunque invenit Homerum.
Victus, & attonitus, maleſani deſinit auſi,
Jamque laboratum in numerum vigil omnia cogit,
Cultaque Ariſtotelis metitur carmina normâ.
[47] Hinc veterum diſcas praecepta vererier, illos
Sectator, ſic naturam ſectaberis ipſam.
At vero virtus reſtat jam plurima, nullo
Deſcribenda modo, nullâque parabilis arte,
Nam felix tam fortuna eſt, quam cura canendi.
Muſicam in hoc reddit divina poeſis, utramque
Multae ornant veneres, quas verbis pingere non eſt,
Quaſque attingere nil niſi ſumma peritia poſſit.
Regula quandocunque minus diffuſa videtur
(Quum tantum ad propriam collinet ſingula metam)
Si modo conſiliis inſerviat ulla juvandis
Apta licentia, lex enim iſta licentia fiat.
Atque ita quo cituis procedat, calle relicto
Communi muſae ſonipes benè devius erret.
Accidit interdum, ut ſcriptores ingenium ingens
Evehat ad culpam egregiam, maculaſque micantes
Quas nemo criticorum audet detergere figat;
Accidit ut linquat vulgaria clauſtra furore
Magnanimo, rapiatque ſolutum lege dccorem,
Qui, quum judicium non intercedat, ad ipſum
Cor properat, fineſque illic ſimul obtinet omnes.
Haud aliter ſi forte jugo ſpeculamur aprico,
Luminibus res arrident, quas Daedala tellus
Parcior oſtentare ſolet, velut ardua montis
Aſperitas, ſcopulive exeſi pendulus horror.
Cura tamen ſemper magna eſt adhibenda poeſi,
Atque hic cum ratione inſaniat author, oportet:
[49] Et, quamvis veteres pro tempore jura refigunt,
Et leges violare ſuas regalitèr audent,
Tu caveas, moneo, quiſquis nunc ſcribis, & ipſam
Si legem frangas, memor ejus reſpice finem.
Hoc ſemper tamen evites, niſi te gravis urget
Nodus, praemonſtrantque authorum exempla priorum.
Ni facias, criticus totam implacabilis iram
Exercet, turpique notâ tibi nomen inurit.
Sed non me latuêre, quibus ſua liberiores
Has veterum veneres vitio dementia vertit.
Et quaedam tibi ſigna quidem monſtroſa videntur,
Si per ſe vel perpendas, propiorave luſtres,
Quae rectâ cum conſtituas in luce locoque,
Formam conciliat diſtantia juſta venuſtam.
Non aciem ſemper belli dux callidus artis
Inſtruit aequali ſerie ordinibuſque decoris,
Sed ſe temporibuſque locoque accomodat, agmen
Celando jam, jamque fugae ſimulachra ciendo.
Mentitur ſpeciem erroris ſaepe aſtus, & ipſe
Somniat emunctus judex, non dormit Homerus.
Aſpice, laurus adhuc antiquis vernat in aris,
Quas rabidae violare manus non amplius audent;
Flammarum a rabie tutas, Stygiaeque veneno
Invidiae, Martiſque minis & morſibus aevi.
Docta caterva, viden! fert ut fragrantia thura;
Audin ut omnigenis reſonant praeconia linguis!
[51] Laudes uſque adeo meritas vox quaeque rependat,
Humanique ſimul generis chorus omnis adeſto.
Salvete, O vates! nati melioribus annis,
Munus & immortale aeternae laudis adepti!
Queis juveneſcit honos longo maturior aevo,
Ditior ut diffundit aquas, dum defluit amnis!
Vos populi mundique canent, ſacra nomina, quos jam
Inventrix (ſic diis viſum eſt) non contigit aetas!
Pars aliqua, o utinam! ſacro ſcintillet ab igne
Illi, qui veſtra eſt extrema & humillima proles!
(Qui longe ſequitur vos debilioribus alis
Lector magnanimus, ſed enim, ſed ſcriptor inaudax)
Sic critici vani, me praecipiente, priores
Mirari, arbitrioque ſuo diffidere diſcant.
Omnibus ex cauſis, quae animum corrumpere junctis
Viribus, humanumque ſolent obtundere acumen,
Pingue caput ſolita eſt momento impellere ſummo
Stultitiae ſemper cognata ſuperbia; quantum
Mentis naſcenti fata invidere, profuſo
Tantum ſubſidio faſtûs ſuperaddere gaudent;
Nam veluti in membris, ſic ſaepe animabus, inanes
Exundant vice † ſpirituum, vice ſanguinis aurae
Suppetias inopi venit alma ſuperbia menti,
Atque per immenſum capitis ſe extendit inane!
Quod ſi recta valet ratio hanc diſpergere nubem
Naturae verique dies ſincera refulget.
[53] Cuicunque eſt animus penitus cognoſcere culpas,
Nec ſibi, nec ſociis credat, verum omnibus aurem
Commodet, apponatque inimica opprobria lucro.
Ne muſae invigiles mediocritèr, aut fuge fontem
Caſtalium omnino, aut hauſtu te prolue pleno:
Iſtius laticis tibi mens abſtemia torpet
Ebria, ſobrietaſque redit revocata bibendo.
Intuitu muſae primo, novitateque capta
Aſpirat doctrinae ad culmina ſumma juventus
Intrepida, & quoniam tunc mens eſt arcta, ſuoque
Omnia metitur modulo, malè lippa labores
Ponè ſecuturos oculis non aſpicit aequis:
Mox autem attonitae jam jamque ſcientia menti
Crebreſcit variata modis ſine limite miris!
Sic ubi deſertis conſcendere vallibus Alpes
Aggredimur, nubeſque humiles calcare videmur,
Protinus aeternas ſuperâſſe nives, & in ipſo
Inveniſſe viae laetamur limine finem:
His vero exactis tacito terrore ſtupemus
Durum creſcentem magis & magis uſque laborem,
Jam longus tandem proſpectus laeſa fatigat
Lumina, dum colles aſſurgunt undique faeti
Collibus, impoſitaeque emergunt Alpibus Alpes.
Ingenioſa leget judex perfectus eâdem
Quâ vates ſcripſit ſtudioſus opuſcula curâ,
[55] Totum perpendet, cenſorque eſt parcus, ubi ardor
Exagitat naturae animos & concitat oeſtrum;
Nec tam ſervili generoſa libidine mutet
Gaudia, quae bibulae menti catus ingerit author.
Verum ſtagnantis mediocria carmina muſae,
Quae reptant ſub limâ & certâ lege ſtupeſcunt,
Quae torpent uno erroris ſecura tenore,
Haec equidem nequeo culpare—& dormio tantum.
Ingenii, veluti naturae, non tibi conſtant
Illecebrae formâ, quae certis partibus inſit;
Nam te non reddit labiumve oculuſve venuſtum,
Sed charitum cumulus, collectaque tela decoris.
Sic ubi luſtramus perfectam inſignitèr aedem,
(Quae Roman ſplendore, ipſumqne ita perculit orbem)
Laeta diu non ullâ in ſimplice parte morantur
Lumina, ſed ſeſe per totum errantia paſcunt;
Nil longum latumve nimis, nil altius aequo
Cernitur, illuſtris nitor omnibus, omnibus ordo.
Quod conſummatum eſt opus omni ex parte, nec uſquam
Nunc exſtat, nec erat, nec erit labentibus annis.
Quas ſibi proponat metas adverte, poeta
Ultra aliquid ſperare, illas ſi abſolvat, iniquum eſt;
Si recta ratione utatur, conſilioque
Perfecto, miſſis maculis, vos plaudite clamo.
Accidit, ut vates, veluti vafer Aulicus, erret
Soepius errorem, ut vitet graviora, minorem.
[57] Neglige, quas criticus, verborum futilis auceps,
Leges edicit: nugas neſcire decorum eſt.
Artis cujuſdam tantum auxiliaris amantes
Partem aliquam plerique colunt vice totius; illi
Multa crepant de judicio, nihilominus iſtam
Stultitiam, ſua quam ſententia laudat, adorant.
QUIXOTUS quondam, ſi vera eſt fabula, cuidam
Occurrens vati, criticum certamen inivit
Docta citans, graviterque tuens, tanquam arbiter alter
DENNISIUS, Graii moderatus fraena theatri;
Acriter id dein aſſeruit, ſtultum eſſe hebetemque,
Quiſquis Ariſtotelis poſſet contemnere leges.
Quid?—talem comitem nactus felicitèr author,
Mox tragicum, quod compoſuit, proferre poema
Incipit, et critici ſcitari oracula tanti.
Jam [...] que &
Caetera de genere hoc equiti deſcribat hianti,
Quae cuncta ad norman quadrarent, inter agendum
Si tantum prudens certamen omitteret author.
"Quid vero certamen omittes? excipit heros;
Sic veneranda Sophi ſuadent documenta. "Quid ergo,
Armigerumque equitum que cohors ſcenam intret, oportet,"
Forſan, at ipſa capax non tantae ſcena catervae eſt:
"OEdificave aliam—vel apertis utere campis."
Sic ubi ſuppoſito moroſa ſuperbia regnat
Judicio, criticaeque tenent faſtidia curae
[59] Vana locum, curto modulo aeſtimat omnia cenſor,
Atque modo perverſus in artibus errat eodem,
Moribus ac multi, dum parte laborat in unâ.
Sunt, qui nil ſapiant, ſalibus niſi quaeque redundet
Pagina, perpetuoque nitet diſtincta lepore,
Nil aptum ſoliti juſtumve requirere, latè
Si micet ingenii chaos, indiſcretaque moles.
Nudas naturae veneres, vivumque decorem
Fingere, qui nequeunt, quorundam exempla ſecuti
Pictorum, haud gemmis parcunt, haud ſumptibus auri,
Ut ſeſe abſcondat rutilis inſcitia velis.
Vis veri ingenii, natura eſt cultior, id quod
Senſerunt multi, ſed jam ſcite exprimit unus,
Quod primo pulchrum intuitu, rectumque videtur
Et mentis menti ſimulachra repercutit ipſi.
Haud ſecus ac lucem commendant ſuavitur umbrae,
Ingenio ſic ſimplicitas ſuperaddit honorem:
Nam fieri poſſit muſa ingenioſior aequo,
Et pereant tumidae nimio tibi ſanguine venae.
Nonnulli vero verborum in cortice ludunt,
Ornatuſque libri ſolos muliebriter ardent.
Egregium ecce! ſtylum clamant! ſed ſemper ocellis
Praetereunt malé, ſi quid ineſt rationis, inunctis.
[61] Verba, velut frondes, nimio cum tegmine opacant
Ramos, torpeſcunt mentis ſine germine. Prava
Rhetorice, vitri latè radian [...]is ad inſtar
Priſmatici, rutilos diffundit ubique colores;
Non tibi naturae licet amplius ora tueri,
At malè diſcretis ſcintillant omnia flammis:
Sed contra veluti jubar immutabile ſolis,
Quicquid contrectat facundia, luſtrat et auget,
Nil variat, ſed cuncta oculo ſplendoris inaurat.
Elòquium mentis noſtrae quaſi veſtis habenda eſt,
Quae ſi ſit ſatis apta, decentior inde videtur
Scommata magnificis ornata procacia verbis
Indutos referunt regalia ſyrmata faunos;
Diverſis etenim diverſa vocabula rebus
Appi gi fas eſt, aulae velut aulica veſtis,
Alteraque agricolis, atque altera congruit urbi.
Quidam ſcriptores, antiquis vocibus uſi,
Gloriolam affectant, veterum aemula turba ſonorum,
Si mentem ſpectes juvenentur more recentûm.
Tantula nugamenta ſtyloque operoſa vetuſto,
Docti derident ſoli placitura popello.
Hi nihilo magè felices quam comicus iſte
FUNGOSO, oſtentant abſurdo pepla tumore,
Qualia neſcio quis geſtavit nobilis olim;
[63] Atque modo veteres doctos imitantur eodem,
Ac hominem veteri in tunicâ dum ſimia ludit.
Verba, velut mores, a juſtis legibus errant,
Si nimium antiquae ſuerint, nimiumve novatae;
Tu cave ne ten [...]es inſueta vocabula primus,
Nec vetera abjicias poſtremus nomina rerum.
Laevis an aſper eat verſus plerique requirunt
Cenſores, ſoloſque ſonos damnantve probantve;
Mille licet veneres formoſam Pierin ornent,
Stultitiâ vox argutâ celabrabitur una:
Qui juga Parnaſſi non ut mala corda repurgent,
Auribus ut placeant, viſunt: ſic ſaepe profanos
Impulit ad reſonum pietas aurita ſacellum.
His ſolum criticis ſemper par ſyllaba cordi eſt,
Vaſtâ etſi uſque omnis pateat vocalis hiatu;
Expletivaque ſaepe ſuas quoque ſuppetias dent,
Ac verſum unum oneret levium heu! decas en! pigra vocum;
Dum non mutato reſonant malé cymbala planctu,
Atque augur miſer uſque ſcio, quid deinde ſequatur.
Quacunque aſpirat clementior aura Favonî,
Mox (nullus dubito) graciles vibrantur ariſtae
[65] Rivulus ut molli ſerpit per laevia lapſu,
Lector, non temerè expectes, poſt murmura, ſomnos.
Tum demum qua latè extremum ad diſtichon, ipſa
Magnificum ſine mente nihil, SENTENTIA ſplendet,
Segnis Hypermeter, audin? adeſt, et claudicat, inſtar
Anguis ſaucia terga trahentis, prorepentiſque.
Hiproprias ſtupeant nugas, tu diſcere tentes,
Quae tereti properant venâ, vel amabilè languent.
Iſtaque fac laudes, ubi vivida Denhamii vis
Walleriae condita fluit dulcedine muſae.
Scribendi numeroſa facultas provenit arte,
Ut ſoli inceſſu faciles fluitare videntur,
Plectro morigeros qui callent fingere greſſus.
Non ſolum aſperitas teneras cave verberet aures,
Sed vox quaeque expreſſa tuae ſit mentis imago.
Lenè edat Zephyrus ſuſpiria blanda, politis
Laevius in numeris labatur laeve fluentum;
At reboat, furit, aeſtuat aemula muſa, ſonoris
Littoribus cum rauca horrendum impingitur unda.
Quando eſt ſaxum Ajax vaſtâ vi volvere adortus,
Tardè incedat verſus, multum perque laborem.
Non ita ſive Camilla cito ſalis aequora raſit,
Sive levis levitèrque terit, neque flectit ariſtas.
Audin! Timothei coeleſtia carmina, menti
Dulcibus alloquiis varics ſuadentia motus!
[67] Audin! ut alternis Lybici Jovis inclyta proles
Nunc ardet famam, ſolos nunc ſpirat amores,
Lumina nunc vivis radiantia volvere flammis,
Mox furtim ſuſpiria, mox effundere fletum!
Dum Perſae, Graecique pares ſentire tumultus
Diſcunt, victricemque lyram rex orbis adorat.
Muſica quid poterit corda ipſa fatentur, et audit
Timotheus noſtras merita cum laude Drydenus.
Tu ſervare modum ſtudeas benè cautus, et iſtos
Queis aut nil placuiſſe poteſt, aut omnia, vites.
Exiguas naſo maculas ſuſpendere noli,
Namque patent nullo ſtupor atque ſuperbia mentis
Clariùs indicio; neque mens eſt optima certè,
Non ſecus ac ſtomachus, quaecunque recuſat et odit
Omnia, difficiliſque nihil tibi concoquit unquam.
Non tamen idcirco vegeti vis ulla leporis
Te tibi ſurripiat; mirari mentis ineptae eſt,
Prudentis vero tantum optima quaeque probare.
Majores res apparent per nubila viſae,
Atque ita luminibus ſtupor ampliat omnia denſis.
His Galli minus arrident, illiſque poetae
Noſtrates, hodierni aliis, aliiſque vetuſti.
Sic * fidei ſimile, ingenium ſectae arrogat uni
Quiſque ſuae; ſolis patet illis janua coeli
[69] Scilicet, inque malam rem caetera turba jubentur.
Fruſtra autem immenſis cupiunt imponere metam
Muneribus Divûm, atque illius tela coarctant
Solis, hyperboreas etiam qui temperat auras,
Non ſolum auſtrales genios foecundat et auget.
Qui primis laté ſua lumina ſparſit ab annis,
Illuſtrat praeſens, ſummumque accenderit oevum.
(Cuique vi [...]s variae tamen; et jam ſaecula ſoeclis
Succedunt pejora, et jam meliora peractis)
Pro meritis muſam laudare memento, nec unquam
Neglige quod novitas diſtinguit, quodve vetuſtas.
Sunt qui nil proprium in medium proferre ſuërunt,
Judiciumque ſuum credunt popularibus auris;
Tum vulgi quò exempla trahunt retrahuntque ſequuntur,
Tolluntque expoſitas latè per compita nugas.
Turba alia authorum titulos et nomina diſcit
Scriptoreſque ipſos, non ſcripta examinat. Horum
Peſſimus iſte cluet, ſi quem ſervilitèr ipſos
Viſere magnates ſtupor ambitioſus adegit.
Qui critice ad menſam domino ancillatur inepto,
Futilis ardelio, ſemper referenſque ferenſque
Nuntia nugarum. Quam pinguia, quam male nata
Carmina cenſentur, quaecunque ego fortè vel ullus
Pangere Apollineae tentat faber improbus artis!
At ſiq is vero, ſiquis vir magnus adoptet
Felicem muſam, quantus nitor ecce! venuſque
[71] Ingenio accedunt! quam prodigialitèr acer
Fit ſtubito ſtylus! omnigenam venerabile nomen
Praetexit ſacris culpam radiis, & ubique
Carmina culta nitent, & pagina parturit omnis.
Stultula plebs doctos ſtudioſa imitarier errat,
Ut docti nullos imitando ſaepius ipſi;
Qui, ſi ſorte unquam plebs rectum viderit, (illis
Tanto turba odio eſt) conſultò lumina claudunt.
Talis ſchiſmaticus Chriſti, grege ſoepe relicto,
Coelos ingenii pro laude paciſcitur ipſos.
Non deſunt quibus incertum mutatur in horas
Judicium, ſed ſemper eos ſententia ducit
U [...]tima palantes. Illis miſeranda camaena
More meretricis tractatur, nunc Dea certè,
Nunc audit vilis lupa: dum praepingue cerebrum,
Debilis & male munitae ſtationis ad inſtar,
Jam recti, jam ſtultitiae pro partibus aſtat.
Si cauſam rogites, aliquis tibi dicat eundo
Quiſque dies tenerae praebet nova pabula menti,
Et ſapimus magis atque magis. Nos docta propago
Scilicet et ſapiens proavos contemnimus omnes,
Heu! pariter noſtris temnenda nepotibus olim.
Quondam per noſtros dum turba ſcholaſtica fines
Regnavit, ſi cui quam plurima clauſula ſemper
In promptu, ille inter doctiſſimus audiit omnes;
[73] Religioſa fides ſimul ac ſacra omnia naſci
Sunt viſa in litem; ſapuit ſat nemo refelli
Ut ſe ſit paſſus. Jam gens inſulſa Scotiſtae,
Intactique abaci Thomiſtae pace fruentes
Inter araneolos pandunt ſua retia fratres.
Ipſa fides igitur cum ſit variata, quid ergo,
Quid mirum ingenium quoque ſi varia induat ora?
Naturae verique relictis finibus amens
Saepius inſanire parat popularitèr author,
Expectatque ſibi vitalem hoc nomine famam,
Suppetit uſque ſuus plebi quia riſus ineptae.
Hic ſolitus propriâ metirier omnia normâ,
Solos, qui ſecum ſunt mente et partibus iiſdem
Approbat, at vanos virtuti reddit honores,
Cui tantum ſibi ſic larvata ſuperbia plaudit.
Partium in ingenio ſtudium quoque regnat, ut aulâ,
Seditioque auget privatas publica rixas.
DRYDENO obſtabant odium atque ſuperbia nuper
Et ſtupor omnigenae latitans ſub imagine formae,
Nunc criticus, nunc bellus homo, mox deinde ſacerdos;
Attamen ingenium, joca cum ſiluêre, ſuperſtes
Vivit adhuc, namque olim utcunque ſepulta profundis
Pulchrior emerget tenebris tamen inclyta virtus.
Mllbourni, rurſus ſi fas foret ora tueri,
Blackmorique novi reducem inſequerenter; HOMERUS
Ipſe etiam erigeret vultus ſi ſorte verendos
ZOILUS ex orco greſſus revocaret. Ubique
[75] Virtuti malus, umbra velut nigra, livor adhaeret,
Sed verum ex vanâ corpus cognoſcitur umbrâ.
Ingenium, ſolis jam deficientis ad inſtar
Inviſum, oppoſiti tenebras tantum arguit orbis,
Dum claro intemerata manent ſua lumina divo.
Sol prodit cum primum, atque intolerabilè fulget
Attrahit obſcuros flammâ magnete vapores;
Mox vero pingunt etiam invida nubila callem
Multa coloratum, & creſcentia nubila ſpargunt
Uberiùs, geminoque die viridaria donant.
Tu primus meritis plaudas, nihil ipſe meretur,
Qui ſerus laudator adeſt. Brevis, heu! brevis aevi
Participes noſtri vates celebrantur, et aequum eſt
Anguſtam quam primum aſſueſcant degere vitam.
Aurea nimirum jamjudum evanuit aetas,
Cum vates patriarchae extabant mille per annos:
Jam ſpes deperiit, nobis vita altera, famae,
Noſtraque marceſcit ſexagenaria laurus!
Aſpicimus nati patriae diſpendia linguae,
Et veſtis CHAUCERI olim geſtanda DRYDENO eſt.
Sic ubi parturuit mens dives imagine multâ
Pictori, calamoque interprete coepit acuti
Concilium cerebri narrare coloribus aptis,
Protinus ad nutum novus emicat orbis, et ipſa
Evolvit manui ſeſe natura diſertae;
[77]Dulcia cum molles coeunt in faedera fuci
Tandem maturi, liquidamque decentèr obumbrant
Admiſtis lucem tenebris, et euntibus annis,
Quando opus ad ſummum perductum eſt culmen, & audent
E vivâ formae extantes ſpirare tabellâ:
Perfidus heu! pulchram color ae [...]o prodidit artem,
Egregiuſque decor jam nunc fuit omnis, et urbes,
Et fluvii, pictique homines, terraeque fuerunt!
Heu! dos ingenii, veluti quodcunque furore
Caeco proſequimur, nihil unquam muneris adfert,
Quod redimat comitem invidiam! juvenilibus annis
Nil niſi inane ſophos jactamus, et iſta voluptas
Vana, brevis, momento evanuit alitis horae!
Flos veluti veri [...] peperit quem prima juventus,
Ille viret, periitque virens ſine falce caducus.
Quid verò ingenium eſt quaeſo? Quid ut illius ergo
Tantum inſudemus? nonne eſt tibi perfida conjux
Quam dominus veſtis, vicinia tota potita eſt;
Quo placuiſſe magis nobis fors obtigit, inde
Nata magis cura eſt. Quid enim? creſcentibus almae
Muſae muneribus populi ſpes creſcit avari.
Laus ipſa acquiri eſt operoſa, et lubrica labi;
Quin quoſdam irritare neceſſe eſt; omnibus autem
Nequaquam feciſſe ſatis datur; ingeniumque
Expallet vitium, devitat conſcia virtus,
Stulti omnes oderê, ſceleſti perdere gaudent.
[79]
Quando adeo infeſtam seſe ignorantia praeſtet,
Abſit, ut ingenium bello doctrina laceſſat!
Praemia propoſuit meritis olim aequa vetuſtas,
Et ſua laus etiam conatos magna ſecuta eſt;
Quanquam etenim fortis dux ſolus ovabat, at ipſis
Militibus crines pulchrae impediere corollae.
At nunc qui bifidi ſuperarunt improba montis
Culmina, certatim ſocios detrudere tentant;
Scriptorem, quid enim! dum quemque philautia ducit
Zelotypum, inſtaurant certamina mutua vates,
Et ſeſe alterni ſtultis ludibria praebent.
Fert aegrè alterius, qui peſſimus audit honores,
Improbus improbuli vice fungitur author amici;
En ſaedis quam faeda viis mortalia corda
Cogit perſequier famae maleſuada libido!
Ah! ne gloriolae uſque adeo ſitis impia regnet,
Nec critici affectans, hominis ſimul exue nomen;
Sed candor cum judicio conjuret amicè,
Peccare eſt hominum, peccanti ignoſcere, divûm.
At vero ſi cui ingenuo praecordia bilis
Non deſpumatae ſatis acri ſaece laborant,
In ſcelera accenſas pejora exerceat iras,
Nil dubitet, ſegetem praebent haec tempora largam.
Obſcaeno detur nulla indulgentia vati,
Ars licet ingenio ſupeaddita cerea flecti
[81] Pectora pelliciat. Verum, hercule, juncta ſtupori
Scripta impura pari vano molimine prorſus
Invalidam aequiparant eunuchi turpis amorem.
Tunc ubi regnavit dives cum pace voluptas
In noſtris flos iſte malus caput extulit oris.
Tunc ubi rex facilis viguit, qui ſemper amore,
Conſiliis rarò, nunquam ſe exercuit armis:
Scripſerunt mimos proceres, meretricibus aulae
Succeſſit regimen; nec non magnatibus ipſis
Affuit ingenium, ſtipendiaque ingenioſis.
Patriciae in ſcenis ſpectavit opuſcula muſae
Multa nurus, laſciva tuens, atque auribus hauſit
Omnia larvato ſecura modeſtia vultu.
Machina, virginibus quae ventilat ora, pudicum
Dedidicit clauſa officium, ad ludicra cachinnus
Increpuit, rubor ingenuus nihil amplius arſit.
Deinde ex externo traducta licentia regno
Audacis faeces Socini abſorbuit imas,
Sacrilegique ſacerdotes tum quemque docebant
Conati efficere, ut gratis paradiſon adiret;
Ut populus patriâ cum libertate ſacratis
Aſſererent ſua jura locis, ne ſcilicet unquam
(Crediderim) Omnipotens foret ipſe potentior aequo.
Templa ſacram ſatiram jam tum violata ſilebant:
Et laudes vitii, vitio mirante, ſonabant!
Accenſi hinc muſae Titanes ad aſtra ruerunt,
Legeque ſancitum quaſſit blaſphemia praelum.—
[83] Haec monſtra, O critici, contra haec convertite telum,
Huc fulmen, tonitruque ſtyli torquete ſeveri,
Et penitus totum obnixi exonerate furorem!
At tales fugias, qui, non ſine fraude ſeveri,
Scripta malam in partem, livore interprete, vertunt;
Pravis omnia prava videntur, ut omnia paſſim
Ictericus propriâ ferrugine tingit ocellus.
Jam mores critici proprios, adverte, docebo;
Dimidiata etenim eſt tibi ſola ſcientia virtus.
Non ſatis eſt ars, ingenium, doctrinaque vires,
Quaeque ſuas jungant, ſi non quoque candor honeſtis,
Et veri ſincerus amor ſermonibus inſint.
Sic tibi non ſolum quiſque amplos ſolvet honores,
Sed te, qui criticum probat, exoptabit amicum,
Mutus, quando animus dubius tibi fluctuat, eſto;
Sin tibi confidis, dictis confide pudentèr.
Quidam hebetes ſemper perſtant erroribus; at tu
Praeteritas laetus culpas fateare, dies-que
Quiſque diesredimat, criticoque examine tentet.
Hoc tibi non ſatis eſt, verum, quod praecipis, eſſe,
Veridici mala ruſticitas magè ſaepe moleſta eſt
Auribus, ingenuam quam verba ferentia fraudem;
Non ut praeceptor, cave des praecepta, reique
Ignaros, tanquam immemores, catus inſtrue: verax
[85] Ipſe placet, ſinon careat candore, nec ullos
Judicium, urbanis quod fulget moribus, urit.
Tu nulli invidias monitus, rationis avarus
Si ſis, prae reliquis ſordes miſerandus avaris.
Ne vili obſequio criticorum jura refigas,
Nec fer judicium nimis officioſus iniquum;
Prudentem haud irritabis (ne finge) monendo,
Qui laude eſt dignus patiens culpabitur idem.
Conſultum meliùs criticis foret, illa maneret
Si nunc culpandi libertas. Appius autem,
Ecce! rubet, quoties loqueris, torvoque tremendus
Intuitu, reddit ſaevi trucia ora gigantis
Jam picta in veteri magè formidanda tapete.
Fac mittas tumidum tituloque et ſtemmate ſtultum,
Cui quaedam eſt data jure licentia ſaepe ſtupendi;
Tales ad libitum vates abſque indole, eâdem,
Quâ ſine doctrinâ doctores lege creantur.
Contemptis prudens ſatiris res linque tacendas,
Aſſentatorumque infamen exerceat artem,
Nominibus libros magnis gens gnara dicandi,
Quae cum mendaci laudes effutiat ore,
Non magè credenda eſt, quam quando pejerat olim
Non iterum pingues unquam conſcribere verſus.
Non raro eſt ſatius bilem cohibere ſuëſcas,
Humanuſque ſinas hebetem ſibi plaudere: prudens
[87] Hic taceas monco, nihil indignatio prodeſt,
Feſſus eris culpando, ea gens haud ſeſſa canendo:
Nam temnens ſtimulos, tardum cum murmure curſum
Continuat, donec jam tandem, turbinis inſtar
Vapulet in torporem, & ſemper eundo queſcat.
Talibus ex lapſu vis eſt reparata frequenti,
Ut tardi titubata urgent veſtigia manni.
Horum pleraque pars, cui nulla amentia deſit,
Tinnitu numerorum et amore ſeneſcit inani,
Perſtat difficili carmen deducere venâ,
Donec inex [...]auſto reſtat faex ulla cerebro,
Relliquias ſtillat vix expreſſae malè mentis,
Et miſeram invalidâ exercet prurigine muſam.
Sunt nobis vates hoc de grege, ſed tamen idem
Affirmo, criticorum ejuſdem ſortis abunde eſt.
Helluo librorum, qui ſudat, hebetque legendo,
Cui mens nugarum doctâ farragine turget
Attentas propriae voci malè recreat aures,
Auditorque ſibi ſolus miſer ipſe videtur.
Ille omnes legit authores, omneſque laceſſit
Durſeio infeſtus pariter magnoque Drydeno.
Judice ſub tali ſemper furatur, emitve
Quiſque ſuum bonus author opus: (non Garthius illi
Si credas) proprium contexuit ipſe poema.
In ſcenis nova ſi comoedia agatur, "amicus
"Hujus ſcriptor (ait) meus eſt, cui non ego paucas
"Oſtendi maculas; ſed mens eſt nulla poetis."
[89] Non locus eſt tam ſanctus, ut hunc expellere poſſit,
Nec templum in tuto eſt, pluſquam via; quin pete ſacras
Aufugiens aras, & ad aras iſte ſequetur
Occidetque loquendo; etenim ſtultus ruet ultro
Nil metuens, ubi ferre pedem vix angelus audet.
Diffidit ſibimet ſapientia cauta, breveſque
Excurſus tentans in ſe ſua lumina vertit;
Stultitia at praeceps violento vortice currit
Nonunquam tremefacta, nec unquam e tramite cedens,
Flumine fulmineo ſe totam invicta profundit.
Tu vero quiſnam es monita inſtillare peritus,
Qui, quod ſcis, laetus monſtras, neque ſcire ſuperbis,
Non odio ductus pravove favore, nec ulli
Addictus ſectae, ut pecces, neque coecus, ut erres;
Doctus, at urbanus, ſincerus, at aulicus idem,
Audactèrque pudens mediâque humanus in irâ.
Qui nunquam dubites vel amico oſtendere culpas,
Et celebres inimicum haud parcâ laude merentem.
Purgato ingenio felix, ſed & infinito,
Et quod librorumque hominumque ſcientia ditat;
Colloquium cui come, animus ſummiſſus & ingens,
Laudandique omnes, ratio cum praecipit, ardor!
Tales extiterunt critici, quos Graecia quondam,
Romaque mirata eſt nato; melioribus annis.
Primus Ariſtoteles eſt auſus ſolvere navem,
Atque datis velis vaſtum explorare profundum.
[91] Tutus iit, longèque ignotas attigit oras
Lumina Maeoniae obſervans radiantia ſtellae.
Jam vates, gens illa, diu quae lege ſoluta eſt,
Et ſaevae capta eſt malè libertatis amore,
Laetantes dominum accipiunt, atque omnis eodem,
Qui domuit naturam, exultat praeſide muſa.
Nuſquam non grata eſt incuria comis Horatî,
Qui nec opinantes nos erudit abſque magiſtro,
Ille ſuas leges, affabilis inſtar amici
Quam veras ſimul & quam claro more profundit!
Ille licet tam judicio quam divite venâ
Maximus, audacem criticum, non ſcriptor inaudax,
Praeſtaret ſe jure, tamen ſedatus ibidem
Cenſor, ubi cecinit divino concitus aeſtro,
Carminibuſque eadem inſpirat, quae tradidit Arte.
Noſtrates homines planè in contraria currunt,
Turba, ſtylo vehemens critico, ſed frigida Phoebo:
Nec malè vertendo Flaccum torſere poetae
Abſurdi, magè quam critici ſine mente citando.
Aſpice, ut expoliat numeros Dionyſius ipſi
Maeonidae, venereſque accerſat ubique recentes!
Conditam ingenio jactat Petronius artem,
Cui doctrina ſcholas redolet ſimul & ſapit aulam.
Cum docti Fabii cumulata volumina verſas,
Optima perſpicuâ in ſerie documenta videre eſt,
[93] Haud ſecus utilia ac apothecis condimus arma,
Ordine perpetuo ſita juncturâque decorâ,
Non modo ut obtineat quo ſeſe oblectet ocellus,
Verum etiam in promptu, quando venit uſus, habenda.
Te ſolum omnigenae inſpirant, Longine, Camaenae,
Et propriam penitus tibi mentem animumque dederunt;
En! tibi propoſiti criticum fideique tenacem,
Qui vehemens ſua jura, ſed omnibus aequa miniſtrat;
Quo probat exemplo, quas tradit acumine leges,
Semper ſublimi ſublimior argumento!
Succeſſere diù ſibi tales, pulſaque fugit
Barbara praeſcriptas exoſa licentia leges.
Româ perpetuo creſcente ſcientia crevit,
Atque artes aquilarum equitâre audacibus alis;
Sed tandem ſuperata îîſdem victoribus uno
Roma triumphata eſt muſis comitantibus aevo.
Dira ſuperſtitio & comes eſt bacchata tyrannis,
Et ſimul illa animos, haec corpora ſub juga miſit.
Credita ab omnibus omnia ſunt, ſed cognita nullis,
Et ſtupor eſt auſus titulo pietatis abuti!
Obruta diluvio ſic eſt doctrina ſecundo,
Et Monachis finita Gothorum exorſa fuerunt.
At vero tandem memorabile nomen Eraſmus,
(Cuique ſacerdoti jactandus, cuique pudendus)
[95] Barbariae obnixus torrentia tempora vincit,
Atque Gothos propriis ſacros de finibus arcet.
At Leo jam rurſus viden' aurea ſecula condit,
Sertaque neglectis revireſcunt laurea muſis!
Antiquus Romae Genius de pulvere ſacro
Attollit ſublime caput. Tunc coepit amari
Sculptura atque artes ſociae, caelataque rupes
Vivere, et in pulchras lapides molleſcere formas;
Divinam harmoniam ſurgentia templa ſonabant,
Atque ſtylo & calamo Raphael & Vida vigebant;
Illuſtris vates! cui laurea ſerta poetae
Intertexta hederis critici geminata refulgent:
Jamque aequat claram tibi, Mantua, Vida Cremonam,
Utque loci, ſic ſemper erit vicinia famae.
Mox autem profugae metuentes improba muſae
Arma, Italos fines linquunt, inque Arctica migrant
Littora; ſed criticam ſibi Gallia vendicat artem.
Gens ullas leges, docilis ſervire, capeſſit,
Boiloviuſque vices domini gerit acer Horatî.
Atfortes ſpernunt praecepta externa Britanni,
Moribus indomiti quoque; nam pro jure furendi
[97] Angliacus pugnat genius, Romamque magiſtram,
Romanumque jugum ſemper contemnere pergit.
At vero jam tum non defuit unus & alter
Corda, licet tumefacta minûs, magis alta gerentes,
Ingenii partes veri ſtudioſa fovendi
Inque baſi antiquâ leges & jura locandi.
Talis, qui cecinit doctrinae exemplar & author,
"Ars bene ſcribendi naturae eſt ſumma poteſtas."
Talis Roſcommon—bonus & doctiſſimus idem,
Nobilis ingenio magè nobilitatus honeſto;
Qui Graios Latioſque authores novit ad unguem,
Dum veneres texit pudibunda induſtria privas.
Talis Walſhius ille fuit—judex & amicus
Muſarum, cenſurae aequus laudiſque miniſter,
Mitis peccantûm cenſor, vehemenſque merentûm
Laudator, cerebrum ſine mendo, & cor ſine fuco!
Haec ſaltem accipias, lacrymabilis umbra, licebit,
Haec debet mea muſa tuae munuſcula famae,
Illa eadem, infantem cujus tu fingere vocem,
Tu monſtrare viam; horridulas componere plumas
Tu ſaepe es ſolitus—duce jam miſeranda remoto
Illa breves humili excurſus molimine tentat,
Nec jam quid ſublime, quid ingens amplius audet.
Illi hoc jam ſatis eſt—ſi hinc turba indocta docetur,
Docta recognoſcit ſtudii veſtigia priſci:
[99] Cenſuram haud curat, famam mediocritèr ardet,
Culpare intrepida, at laudis tamen aequa miniſtra;
Haud ulli prudens aſſentaturve notetve;
Se demum mendis haud immunem eſſe fatetur,
At neque faſtidit limâ, quando indiget, uti.

THE HOP-GARDEN. A GEORGIC. In Two BOOKS.

[]
Me quoque Parnaſſi per lubicra culmina raptat
Laudis amor: ſtudium ſequor inſanabile vatis,
Auſus non operam, non formidare poetae
Nomen, adoratum quondam, nunc paene procaci
Monſtratum digito.— Van. Praed. Ruſt.

THE HOP-GARDEN.
A GEORGIC.
BOOK the FIRST.

[]
THE land that anſwers beſt the farmer's care,
And ſilvers to maturity the Hop:
When to inhume the plants; to turn the glebe;
And wed the tendrils to th' aſpiring poles:
Under what ſign to pluck the crop, and how
To cure, and in capacious ſacks infold,
I teach in verſe Miltonian. Smile the muſe,
And meditate an honour to that land
Where firſt I breath'd, and ſtruggled into life
Impatient, Cantium, to be call'd thy ſon.
Oh! cou'd I emulate Dan Sydney's muſe,
Thy Sydney, Cantium—He from court retir'd
In Penſhurſt's ſweet elyſium ſung delight,
Sung tranſport to the ſoft-reſponding ſtreams
Of Medway, and enliven'd all her groves:
[104] While ever near him, goddeſs of the green,
Fair * Pembroke ſat, and ſmil'd immenſe applauſe.
With vocal faſcination charm'd the † Hours
Unguarded left Heav'ns adamantine gate,
And to his lyre, ſwift as the winged ſounds
That ſkim the air, danc'd unperceiv'd away.
Had I ſuch pow'r, no peaſants toil, no hops
Shou'd e'er debaſe my lay: far nobler themes,
The high atchievements of thy warrior kings
Shou'd raiſe my thoughts, and dignify my ſong.
But I, young ruſtic, dare not leave my cot,
For ſo enlarg'd a ſphere—ah! muſe beware,
Leſt the loud larums of the braying trump,
Leſt the deep drum ſhou'd drown thy tender reed,
And mar its puny joints: me, lowly ſwain,
Every unſhaven arboret, me the lawns,
Me the voluminous Medway's ſilver wave,
† Content inglorious, and the hopland ſhades!
Yeomen, and countrymen attend my ſong:
Whether you ſhiver in the marſhy § Weald,
Egregious ſhepherds of unnumber'd flocks,
Whoſe fleeces, poiſon'd into purple, deck
[105] All Europe's kings: or in fair * Madum's vale
Imparadis'd, bleſt denizons, ye dwell;
Or † Dorovernia's awful tow'rs ye love:
Or plough Tunbridgia's ſalutiferous hills
Induſtrious, and with draughts chalybiate heal'd,
Confeſs divine Hygeia's bliſsful ſeat;
The muſe demands your preſence, ere ſhe tune
Her monitory voice; obſerve her well,
And catch the wholeſome dictates as they fall.
'Midſt thy paternal acres, Farmer, ſay
Has gracious heav'n beſtow'd one field, that baſks
Its loamy boſom in the mid-day ſun,
Emerging gently from the abject vale,
Nor yet obnoxious to the wind, ſecure
There ſhall thou plant thy hop. This ſoil, perhaps,
Thou'lt ſay, will fill my garners. Be it ſo.
But Ceres, rural goddeſs, at the beſt
Meanly ſupports her vot'ry', enough for her,
If ill-perſuading hunger ſhe repell,
And keep the ſoul from fainting: to enlarge,
To glad the heart, to ſublimate the mind,
And wing the flagging ſpirits to the ſky,
Require th' united influence and aid
Of Bacchus, God of hops, with Ceres join'd
[106] 'Tis he ſhall gen'rate the buxom beer.
Then on one pedeſtal, and hand in hand,
Sculptur'd in Parian ſtone (ſo gratitude
Indites) let the divine co-part'ners riſe.
Stands eaſtward in thy field a wood? 'tis well.
Eſteem it as a bulwark of thy wealth,
And cheriſh all its branches; tho' we'll grant,
Its leaves umbrageous may intercept
The morning rays, and envy ſome ſmall ſhare
Of Sol's beneficence to the infant germ.
Yet grutch not that: when whiſtling Eurus comes,
With all his worlds of inſects in thy lands
To hyemate, and monarchize o'er all
Thy vegetable riches, then thy wood
Shall ope it's arms expanſive, and embrace
The ſtorm reluctant, and divert its rage.
Armies of animalc'les urge their way
In vain: the ventilating trees oppoſe
Their airy march. They blacken diſtant plains.
This ſite for thy young nurſery obtain'd,
Thou haſt begun auſpicious, if the ſoil
(As ſung before) be loamy; this the hop
Loves above others, this is rich, is deep,
Is viſcous, and tenacious of the pole.
Yet maugre all its native worth, it may
Be meliorated with warm compoſt. See!
[107] * Yon craggy mountain, whoſe faſtidious head,
Divides the ſtar-ſet hemiſphere above,
And Cantium's plains beneath; the Appennine
Of a free Italy, whoſe chalky ſides
With verdant ſhrubs diſſimilarly gay,
Still captivate the eye, while at his feet
The ſilver Medway glides, and in her breaſt
Views the reflected landſkip, charm'd ſhe views
And murmurs louder ectaſy below.
Here let us reſt awhile, pleas'd to behold
Th' all-beautiful horizon's wide expanſe,
Far as the eagle's ken. Here tow'ring ſpires
Firſt catch the eye, and turn the thoughts to heav'n.
The lofty elms in humble majeſty
Bend with the breeze to ſhade the ſolemn groves,
And ſpread an holy darkneſs; Ceres there
Shines in her golden veſture. Here the meads
Enrich'd by Flora's daedal hand, with pride
Expoſe their ſpotted verdure. Nor are you
Pomona abſent; you 'midſt th' hoary leaves
Swell the vermilion cherry; and on you trees
Suſpend the pippen's palatable gold.
There old Sylvanus in that moſs-grown grot
Dwells with his wood-nymphs: they with chaplets green
And ruſſet mantles oft bedight, aloft
[108] From yon bent oaks, in Medway's boſom fair
Wonder at ſilver bleak, and prickly pearch,
That ſwiftly thro' their floating foreſts glide.
Yet not even theſe—theſe ever-varied ſcenes
Of wealth and pleaſure can engage my eyes
T' o'erlook the lowly hawthorn, if from thence
The thruſh, ſweet warbler, chants th' unſtudied lays
Which Phoebus' ſelf vaulting from yonder cloud
Refulgent, with enliv'ning ray inſpires.
But neither tow'ring ſpires, nor lofty elms,
Nor golden Ceres, nor the meadows green,
Nor orchats, nor the ruſſet-mantled nymphs,
Which to the murmurs of the Medway dance,
Nor ſweetly warbling thruſh, with half thoſe charms
Attract my eyes, as yonder hop-land cloſe,
Joint-work of art and nature, which reminds
The muſe, and to her theme the wand'rer calls.
Here then with pond'rous vehicles and teams
Thy ruſtics ſend, and from the caverns deep
Command them bring the chalk: thence to the kiln
Convey, and temper with Vulcanian fires.
Soon as 'tis form'd, thy lime with bounteous hand
O'er all thy lands diſſeminate; thy lands
Which firſt have felt the ſoft'ning ſpade, and drank
The ſtrength'ning vapours from nutricious marl.
[109]
This done, ſelect the choiceſt hop, t' inſert
Freſh in the opening glebe. Say then, my muſe,
Its various kinds, and from th' effete and vile,
The eligible ſeparate with care.
The nobleſt ſpecies is by Kentiſh wights
The Maſter-hop yclep'd. Nature to him
Has giv'n a ſtouter ſtalk, patient of cold,
Or Phoebus ev'n in youth, his verdant blood
In briſk ſaltation circulates and flows
Indeſinently vigorous: the next
Is arid, fetid, infecund, and groſs
Significantly ſtyl'd the Fryar: the laſt
Is call'd the Savage, who in ev'ry wood,
And ev'ry hedge unintroduc'd intrudes.
When ſuch the merit of the candidates,
Eaſy is the election; but, my friend
Would'ſt thou ne'er fail, to Kent direct thy way,
Where no one ſhall be fruſtrated that ſeeks
Ought that is great or good. * Hail, Cantium, hail!
Illuſtrious parent of the fineſt fruits,
Illuſtrious parent of the beſt of men!
For thee Antiquity's thrice ſacred ſprings
[110] Placidly ſtagnant at their fountain head,
I raſhly dare to trouble (if from thence,
If ought for thy util'ty I can drain)
And in thy towns adopt th' Aſcraean muſe.
Hail heroes, hail invaluable gems,
Splendidly rough within your native mines,
To luxury unrefined, better far
To ſhake with unbought agues in your weald,
Than dwell a ſlave to paſſion and to wealth,
Politely paralytic in the town!
Fav'rites of heav'n! to whom the general doom
Is all remitted, who alone poſſeſs
Of Adam's ſons fair Eden—reſt ye here,
Nor ſeek an earthly good above the hop;
A good! untaſted by your ancient kings,
And almoſt to your very ſires unknown.
In thoſe bleſt days when great Eliza reign'd
O'er the adoring nation, when fair peace
Or ſpread an unſtain'd olive round the land,
Or laurell'd war did teach our winged fleets
To lord it o'er the world, when our brave ſires
Drank valour from uncauponated beer;
Then th' hop (before an interdicted plant,
Shun'd like fell aconite) began to hang
Its folded floſcles from the golden vine,
And bloom'd a ſhade to Cantium's ſunny ſhores
[111] Delightſome, and in chearful goblets laught
Potent, what time Aquarius' urn impends
To kill the dulſome day—potent to quench
The Syrian ardour, and autumnal ills
To heal with mild potations; ſweeter far
Than thoſe which erſt the ſubtile * Hengiſt mix'd
T' inthral voluptuous Vortigern. He, with love
Emaſculate and wine, the toils of war,
Neglected, and to dalliance vile and ſloth
Emancipated, ſaw th' incroaching Saxons
With unaffected eyes; his hand which ought
T' have ſhook the ſpear of juſtice, ſoft and ſmooth,
Play'd raviſhing diviſions on the lyre:
This Hengiſt mark'd, and (for curs'd inſolence
Soon fattens on impunity! and becomes
Briareus from a dwarf) fair Thanet gain'd.
Nor ſtopt he here; but to immenſe attempts
Ambition ſky-aſpiring led him on
Adventrous. He an only daughter rear'd,
Roxena, matchleſs maid! nor rear'd in vain.
Her eagle-ey'd callidity, grave deceit,
And fairy fiction rais'd above her ſex,
And furniſh'd her with thouſand various wiles
Prepoſterous, more than female; wondrous fair
[112] She was, and docile, which her pious nurſe
Obſerv'd, and early in each female fraud
Her 'gan initiate: well ſhe knew to ſmile,
Whene'er vexation gall'd her; did ſhe weep?
'Twas not ſincere, the fountains of her eyes
Play'd artificial ſtreams, yet ſo well forc'd
They look'd like nature; for ev'n art to her
Was natural, and contrarieties
Seem'd in Roxena congruous and allied.
Such was ſhe, when briſk Vortigern beheld,
Ill-fated prince! and lov'd her. She perceiv'd,
Soon ſhe perceiv'd her conqueſt; ſoon ſhe told,
With haſty joy tranſported, her old ſire.
The Saxon inly ſmil'd, and to his iſle
The willing prince invited, but firſt bad
The nymph prepare the potions; ſuch as fire
The blood's meand'ring rivulets, and depreſs
To love the ſoul. Lo! at the noon of night
Thrice Hecate invok'd the maid—and thrice
The goddeſs ſtoop'd aſſent; forth from a cloud
She ſtoop'd, and gave the philters pow'r to charm.
Theſe in a ſplendid cup of burniſh'd gold
The lovely ſorcereſs mix'd, and to the prince
Health, peace, and joy propin'd, but to herſelf
Mutter'd dire exorciſms, and wiſh'd effect
To th' love-creating draught: lowly ſhe bow'd
Fawning inſinuation bland, that might
[113] Deceive Laertes' ſon; her lucid orbs
Shed copiouſly the oblique rays; her face
Like modeſt Luna's ſhone, but not ſo pale,
And with no borrow'd luſtre; on her brow
Smil'd Fallacy, while ſummoning each grace,
Kneeling ſhe gave the cup. The prince (for who!
Who cou'd have ſpurn'd a ſuppliant ſo divine?)
Drank eager, and in ecſtaſy devour'd
Th' ambroſial perturbation; mad with love
He claſp'd her, and in Hymeneal bands
At once the nymph demanded and obtain'd.
Now Hengiſt, all his ample wiſh fulfill'd,
Exulted; and from Kent th' uxorious prince
Exterminated, and uſurp'd his ſeat.
Long did he reign; but all-devouring time
Has raz'd his palace walls—Perchance on them
Grows the green hop, and o'er his crumbled buſt
In ſpiral twines aſcends the ſcancile pole.—
But now to plant, to dig, to dung, to weed;
Taſks how indelicate? demand the muſe.
Come, fair magician, ſportive Fancy come,
With thy unbounded imagery; child of thought,
From thy aeriel citadel deſcend,
And (for thou canſt) aſſiſt me. Bring with thee
Thy all-creative Taliſman; with thee
The active ſpirits ideal, tow'ring flights,
[114] That hover o'er the muſe-reſounding groves,
And all thy colourings, all thy ſhapes diſplay.
Thou to be here, Experience, ſo ſhall I
My rules nor in low proſe jejunely ſay,
Nor in ſmooth numbers muſically err;
But vain is Fancy and Experience vain,
If thou, O Heſiod! Virgil of our land,
Or hear'ſt thou rather, Milton, bard divine,
Whoſe greatneſs who ſhall imitate, ſave thee?
If thou O * Philips fav'ring doſt not hear
Me, inexpert of verſe; with gentle hand
Uprear the unpinion'd muſe, high on the top
Of that immeaſurable mount, that far
Exceeds thine own Plinlimmon, where thou tun'ſt
With Phoebus' ſelf thy lyre. Give me to turn
Th' unwieldly ſubject with thy graceful eaſe,
Extol its baſeneſs with thy art; but chief
Illumine, and invigorate with thy fire.
When Phoebus looks thro' Aries on the ſpring,
And vernal flow'rs promiſe the dulcet fruit,
Autumnal pride! delay not then thy ſetts
In Tellus' facile boſom to depoſe
Timely: if thou art wiſe the bulkieſt chuſe:
To every root three joints indulge, and form
[115] The Quincunx with well regulated hills.
Soon from the dung-enriched earth, their heads
Thy young plants will uplift their virgin arms,
They'll ſtretch, and marriageable claim the pole.
Nor fruſtrate thou their wiſhes, ſo thou may'ſt
Expect an hopeful iſſue, jolly Mirth,
Siſter of taleful Jocus, tuneful Song,
And fat Good-nature with her honeſt face.
But yet in the novitiate of their love,
And tenderneſs of youth ſuffice ſmall ſhoots
Cut from the widow'd willow, nor provide
Poles inſurmountable as yet. 'Tis then
When twice bright Phoebus' vivifying ray,
Twice the cold touch of winter's icy hand,
They've felt; 'tis then we fell ſublimer props.
'Tis then the ſturdy woodman's axe from far
Reſounds, reſounds, and hark! with hollow groans
Down tumble the big trees, and ruſhing roll
O'er the cruſh'd crackling brake, while in his cave
Forlorn, dejected, 'midſt the weeping dryads
Laments Sylvanus for his verdant care.
The aſh, or willow for thy uſe ſelect,
Or ſtorm-enduring cheſnut; but the oak
Unfit for this employ, for nobler ends
Reſerve untouch'd; ſhe when by time matur'd,
Capacious, of fome Britiſh demi-god,
Vernon, or Warren, ſhall with rapid wing
[116] Infuriate, like Jove's armour-bearing bird,
Fly on thy foes; They, like the parted waves,
Which to the brazen beak murmuring give way
Amaz'd, and roaring from the fight recede.—
In that ſweet month, when to the liſt'ning ſwains
Fair Philomel fings love, and every cot
With garlands blooms bedight, with bandage meet
The tendrils bind, and to the tall pole tie,
Elſe ſoon, too ſoon their meretricious arms
Round each ignoble clod they'll fold, and leave
Averſe the lordly prop. Thus, have I heard
Where there's no mutual tye, no ſtrong connection
Of love-conſpiring hearts, oft the young bride
Has proſtituted to her ſlaves her charms,
While the infatuated lord admires
* Freſh-budding ſprouts, and iſſue not his own.
Now turn the glebe: ſoon with correcting hand
When ſmiling June in jocund dance leads on
Long days and happy hours, from ev'ry vine
Dock the redundant branches, and once more
With the ſharp ſpade thy numerous acres till.
The ſhovel next muſt lend its aid, enlarge
The little hillocks, and eraſe the weeds.
This in that month its title which derives
[117] From great Auguſtus' ever ſacred name!
Sovereign of Science! maſter of the Muſe!
Neglected Genius' firm ally! Of worth
Beſt judge, and beſt rewarder, whoſe applauſe
To bards was fame and fortune! O! 'twas well,
Well did you too in this, all glorious heroes!
Ye Romans!—on Time's wing you've ſtamp'd his praiſe,
And time ſhall bear it to eternity.
Now are our lab'rours crown'd with their reward,
Now bloom the florid hops, and in the ſtream
Shine in their floating ſilver, while above
T'embow'ring branches culminate, and form
A walk impervious to the ſun; the poles
In comely order ſtand; and while you cleave
With the ſmall ſkiff the Medway's lucid wave,
In comely order ſtill their ranks preſerve,
And ſeem to march along th' extenſive plain.
In neat arrangement thus the men of Kent,
With native oak at once adorn'd and arm'd,
Intrepid march'd; for well they knew the cries
Of dying Liberty, and Aſtraea's voice,
Who as ſhe fled, to echoing woods complain'd▪
Of tyranny, and William; like a god,
Refulgent ſtood the conqueror, on his troops
He ſent his looks enliv'ning as the ſun's,
But on his foes frown'd agony, frown'd death.
[118] On his left ſide in bright emblazonry
His falchion burn'd; forth from his ſevenfold ſhield
A baſiliſk ſhot adamant; his brow
Wore clouds of fury!—on that with plumage crown'd
Of various hue ſat a tremendous cone:
Thus ſits high-canopied above the clouds,
Terrific beauty of nocturnal ſkies,
* Northern Aurora; ſhe thro' th' azure air
Shoots, ſhoots her trem'lous rays in painted ſtreaks
Continual, while waving to the wind
O'er Night's dark veil her lucid treſſes flow.
The trav'ler views th' unſeaſonable day
Aſtound, the proud bend lowly to the earth,
The pious matrons tremble for the world.
But what can daunt th' inſuperable ſouls
Of Cantium's matchleſs ſons? On they proceed,
All innocent of fear; each face expreſs'd
Contemptuous admiration, while they view'd
The well-fed brigades of embroider'd ſlaves
That drew the ſword for gain. Firſt of the van,
With an enormous bough, a ſhepherd ſwain
Whiſtled with ruſtic notes; but ſuch as ſhow'd
A heart magnanimous: The men of Kent
[119] Follow the tuneful ſwain, while o'er their heads
The green leaves whiſper, and the big boughs bend.
'Twas thus the Thracian, whoſe all-quick'ning lyre
The floods inſpir'd, and taught the rocks to feel,
Play'd before dancing Haemus, to the tune,
The lute's ſoft tune! The flutt'ring branches wave,
The rocks enjoy it, and the rivulets hear,
The hillocks ſkip, emerge the humble vales,
And all the mighty mountain nods applauſe.
The conqueror view'd them, and as one that ſees
The vaſt abrupt of Scylla, or as one
That from th' oblivious Lethaean ſtreams
Has drank eternal apathy, he ſtood.
His hoſt an univerſal panic ſeiz'd
Prodigious, inopine; their armour ſhook,
And clatter'd to the trembling of their limbs;
Some to the walking wilderneſs gan run
Confus'd, and in th' inhoſpitable ſhade
For ſhelter ſought—Wretches! they ſhelter find,
Eternal ſhelter in the arms of death!
Thus when Aquarius pours out all his urn▪
Down on ſome loneſome heath, the traveller
That wanders o'er the wint'ry waſte, accepts
The invitation of ſome ſpreading beech
Joyous; but ſoon the treach'rous gloom betrays
Th' unwary viſitor, while on his head
Th' inlarging drops in double ſhow'rs deſcend.
[120]
And now no longer in diſguiſe the men
Of Kent appear; down they all drop their boughs,
And ſhine in brazen panoply divine.
Enough—Great William (for full well he knew
How vain would be the conteſt) to the ſons
Of glorious Cantium, gave their lives, and laws,
And liberties ſecure, and to the proweſs
Of Kentiſh wights, like Caeſar, deign'd to yield.
Caeſar and William! Hail immortal worthies,
Illuſtrious vanquiſh'd! Cantium, if to them,
Poſterity will all her chiefs unborn,
Ought ſimilar, ought ſecond has to boaſt.
Once more (ſo prophecies the Muſe) thy ſons
Shall triumph, emulous of their ſires—till then
With olive, and with hop-land garlands crown'd,
O'er all thy land reign Plenty, reign fair Peace.

THE HOP-GARDEN. A GEORGIC. BOOK the SECOND.
[]THE HOP-GARDEN. A GEORGIC. BOOK the SECOND.

[]
Omnia quae multo ante memor proviſa repones,
Si te digna manet divini gloria ruris.
VIRG. Geor. lib. 1.
AT length the Muſe her deſtin'd taſk reſumes
With joy; agen o'er all her hop-land groves
She longs t' expatiate free of wing. Long while
For a much-loving, much-lov'd youth ſhe wept,
And ſorrow'd ſilence o'er th' untimely urn.
Huſh then, effeminate ſobs; and thou, my heart,
Rebel to grief no more—And yet a while,
A little while, indulge the friendly tears.
O'er the wild world, like Noah's dove, in vain
I ſeek the olive peace, around me wide
See! ſee! the wat'ry waſte—In vain, forlorn
I call the Phoenix fair Sincerity;
Alas!—extinguiſh'd to the ſkies ſhe fled,
And left no heir behind her. Where is now
Th' eternal ſmile of goodneſs? Where is now
[124] That all-extenſive charity of ſoul,
So rich in ſweetneſs, that the claſſic ſounds
In elegance Auguſtan cloath'd, the wit
That flow'd perennial, hardly were obſerv'd,
Or, if obſerv'd, ſet off a brighter gem.
How oft, and yet how ſeldom did it ſeem!
Have I enjoy'd his converſe?—When we met,
The hours how ſwift they ſweetly fled, and till
Agen I ſaw him, how they loiter'd. Oh!
* THEOPHILUS, thou dear departed ſoul,
What flattering tales thou told'ſt me? How thou'dſt hail
My Muſe, and took'ſt imaginary walks
All in my hopland groves! Stay yet, oh ſtay!
Thou dear deluder, thou haſt ſeen but half—
He's gone! and ought that's equal to his praiſe
Fame has not for me, tho' ſhe prove moſt kind.
Howe'er this verſe be ſacred to thy name,
Theſe tears, the laſt ſad duty of a friend.
Oft i'll indulge the pleaſurable pain
Of recollection; oft on Medway's banks
I'll muſe on thee full penſive; while her ſtreams
Regardful ever of my grief, ſhall flow
In ſullen ſilence ſilverly along
The weeping ſhores—or elſe accordant with
My loud laments, ſhall ever and anon
Make melancholy muſic to the ſhades,
[125] The hopland ſhades, that on her banks expoſe
Serpentine vines and flowing locks of gold.
Ye ſmiling nymphs, th' inſeparable train
Of ſaffron Ceres; ye, that gameſome dance,
And ſing to jolly Autumn, while he ſtands
With his right hand poizing the ſcales of heav'n,
And with his left graſps Amalthea's horn:
Young chorus of fair bacchanals, deſcend,
And leave a while the ſickle; yonder hill,
Where ſtand the loaded hop-poles, claims your care.
There mighty Bacchus ſtradling croſs the bin,
Waits your attendance—There he glad reviews
His paunch, approaching to immenſity
Still nearer, and with pride of heart ſurveys
Obedient mortals, and the world his own.
See! from the great metropolis they ruſh,
Th' induſtrious vulgar. They, like prudent bees,
In Kent's wide garden roam, expert to crop
The flow'ry hop, and provident to work,
Ere winter numb their ſunburnt hands, and winds
Engoal them, murmuring in their gloomy cells.
From theſe, ſuch as appear the reſt t' excell
In ſtrength and young agility, ſelect.
Theſe ſhall ſupport with vigour and addreſs
The bin-man's weighty office; now extract
From the ſequacious earth the pole, and now
[126] Unmarry from the cloſely clinging vine.
O'er twice three pickers, and no more, extend
The bin-man's ſway; unleſs thy ears can bear
The crack of poles continual, and thine eyes
Behold unmoved the hurrying peaſant tear
Thy wealth, and throw it on the thankleſs ground.
But firſt the careful planter will conſult
His quantity of acres, and his crop,
How many and how large his kilns; and then
Proportion'd to his wants the hands provide.
But yet, of greater conſequence and coſt,
One thing remains unſung, a man of faith
And long experience, in whoſe thund'ring voice
Lives hoarſe authority, potent to quell
The frequent frays of the tumultuous crew.
He ſhall preſide o'er all thy hop-land ſtore,
Severe dictator! His unerring hand,
And eye inquiſitive, in heedful guiſe,
Shall to the brink the meaſure fill, and fair
On the twin regiſters the work record.
And yet I've known them own a female reign,
And gentle * Marianne's ſoft Orphean voice
Has hymn'd ſweet leſſons of humanity
To the wild brutal crew. Oft her command
Has ſav'd the pillars of the hopland ſtate,
[127] The lofty poles from ruin, and ſuſtain'd,
Like ANNA, or ELIZA, her domain,
With more than manly dignity. Oft I've ſeen,
Ev'n at her frown the boiſt'rous uproar ceaſe,
And the mad pickers, tam'd to diligence,
Cull from the bin the ſprawling ſprigs, and leaves
That ſtain the ſample, and its worth debaſe.
All things thus ſettled and prepared, what now
Can let the planters purpoſes? Unleſs
The Heav'ns frown diſſent, and ominous winds
Howl thro' the concave of the troubled ſky.
And oft, alas! the long experienc'd wights
(Oh! could they too prevent them) ſtorms foreſee.
* For, as the ſtorm rides on the riſing clouds,
[128] Fly the fleet wild-geeſe far away, or elſe
The heifer towards the zeinth rears her head,
And with expanded noſtrils ſnuffs the air:
The ſwallows too their airy circuits weave,
And ſcreaming ſkim the brook; and fen-bred frogs
Forth from their hoarſe throats their old grutch recite:
Or from her earthly coverlets the ant
Heaves her huge eggs along the narrow way:
Or bends Thaumantia's variegated bow
Athwart the cope of heav'n: or ſable crows
Obſtreperous of wing, in crouds combine:
Beſides, unnumber'd troops of birds marine,
And Aſia's feather'd flocks, that in the muds
Of flow'ry-edg'd Cayſter wont to prey,
Now in the ſhallows duck their ſpeckled heads,
And luſt to lave in vain, their unctious plumes
Repulſive baffle their efforts: Next hark
How the curs'd raven, with her harmful voice,
Invokes the rain, ahd croaking to herſelf,
Struts on ſome ſpacious ſolitary ſhore.
Nor want thy ſervants and thy wife at home
Signs to preſage the ſhow'r; for in the hall
Sheds Niobe her preſcious tears, and warns
Beneath thy leaden tubes to fix the vaſe,
And catch the falling dew-drops, which ſupply
Soft water and ſalubrious, far the beſt
To ſoak thy hops, and brew thy generous beer.
[129] But tho' bright Phoebus ſmile, and in the skies
The purple-rob'd ſerenity appear;
Tho' every cloud be fled, yet if the rage
Of Boreas, or the blaſting Eaſt prevail,
The planter has enough to check his hopes,
And in due bounds confine his joy; for ſee
The ruffian winds, in their abrupt career,
Leave not a hop behind, or at the beſt
Mangle the circling vine, and intercept
The juice nutricious: Fatal means, alas!
Their colour and condition to deſtroy.
Haſte then, ye peaſants; pull the poles, the hops;
Where are the bins? Run, run, ye nimble maids,
Move ev'ry muſcle, ev'ry nerve extend,
To ſave our crop from ruin, and ourſelves.
Soon as bright Chanticleer explodes the night
With flutt'ring wings, and hymns the new-born day,
The bugle-horn inſpire, whoſe clam'rous bray
Shall rouſe from ſleep the rebel rout, and tune
To temper for the labours of the day.
Wiſely the ſeveral ſtations of the bins
By lot determine. Juſtice this, and this
Fair Prudence does demand; for not without
A certain method cou'dſt thou rule the mob
Irrational, nor every where alike
Fair hangs the hop to tempt the picker's hand.
[130]
Now ſee the crew mechanic might and main
Labour with lively diligence, inſpir'd
By appetie of gain and luſt of praiſe:
What mind ſo petty, ſervile, and debas'd,
As not to know ambition? Her great ſway
From Colin Clout to Emperors ſhe exerts.
To err is human, human to be vain.
'Tis vanity, and mock deſire of fame,
That prompts the ruſtic, on the ſteeple top
Sublime, to mark the outlines of his ſhoe,
And in the area to engrave his name.
With pride of heart the churchwarden ſurveys,
High o'er the bellfry, girt with birds and flow'rs,
His ſtory wrote in capitals: "'Twas I
"That bought the font; and I repair'd the pews."
With pride like this the emulating mob
Strive for the maſtery—who firſt may fill
The bellying bin, and cleaneſt cull the hops.
Nor ought retards, unleſs invited out
By Sol's declining, and the evening's calm,
Leander leads Laetitia to the ſcene
Of ſhade and fragrance—Then th' exulting band
Of pickers male and female, ſeize the fair
Reluctant, and with boiſt'rous force and brute,
By cries unmov'd, they bury her in the bin.
Nor does the youth eſcape—him too they ſeize,
And in ſuch poſture place as beſt may ſerve
[131] To hide his charmer's bluſhes. Then with ſhouts
They rend the echoing air, and from them both
(So cuſtom has ordain'd) a largeſs claim.
Thus much be ſung of picking—next ſucceeds
Th' important care of curing—Quit the field,
And at the kiln th' inſtructive muſe attend.
On your hair-cloth eight inches deep, nor more,
Let the green hops lie lightly; next expand
The ſmootheſt ſurface with the toothy rake.
Thus for is juſt above; but more it boots
That charcoal flames burn equably below,
The charcoal flames, which from thy corded wood,
Or antiquated poles, with wond'rous ſkill,
The ſable prieſts of Vulcan ſhall prepare.
Conſtant and moderate let the heat aſcend;
Which to effect, there are, who with ſucceſs
Place in the kiln the ventilating fan.
Hail, learned, uſeful * man! whoſe head and heart
Conſpire to make us happy, deign t' accept
One honeſt verſe; and if thy induſtry
Has ſerv'd the hopland cauſe, the Muſe forebodes
This ſole invention, both in uſe and fame,
The † myſtic fan of Bacchus ſhall exceed.
[132]
When the fourth hour expires, with careful hand
The half-bak'd hops turn over. Soon as time
Has well exhauſted twice two glaſſes more,
They'll leap and crackle with their burſting ſeeds,
For uſe domeſtic, or for ſale mature.
There are, who in the choice of cloth t'enfold
Their wealthy crop, the viler, coarſer ſort,
With prodigal oeconomy prefer:
All that is good is cheap, all dear that's baſe.
Beſides, the planter ſhou'd a bait prepare,
T' intrap the chapman's notice, and divert
Shrewd Obſervation from her buſy pry.
When in the bag thy hops the ruſtic treads,
Let him wear heel-leſs ſandals; nor preſume
Their fragrancy barefooted to defile:
Such filthy ways for ſlaves in Malaga
Leave we to practiſe—Whence I've often ſeen,
When beautiful Dorinda's iv'ry hands
Had built the paſtry-fabric (food divine
For Chriſtmas gambols and the hour of mirth)
As the dry'd foreign fruit, with piercing eye,
She cull'd ſuſpicious—lo! ſhe ſtarts, ſhe frowns
With indignation at a negro's nail.
Should'ſt thou thy harveſt for the mart deſign,
Be thine own factor; nor employ thoſe drones
[133] Who've ſtings, but make no honey, felfiſh ſlaves!
That thrive and fatten on the planter's toil.
What then remains unſung? unleſs the care
To ſtack thy poles oblique in comely cones,
Leſt rot or rain deſtroy them—'Tis a ſight
Moſt ſeemly to behold, and gives, O Winter!
A landſkip not unpleaſing ev'n to thee.
And now, ye rivals of the hopland ſtate,
Madum and Dorovernia rejoice,
How great amidſt ſuch rivals to excel!
Let * Grenovicum boaſt (for boaſt ſhe may)
The birth of great Eliza.—Hail, my queen!
And yet I'll call thee by a dearer name,
My countrywoman, hail! Thy worth alone
Gives fame to worlds, and makes whole ages glorious!
Let Sevenoaks vaunt the hoſpitable ſeat
Of † Knoll moſt ancient: Awefully, my Muſe,
Theſe ſocial ſcenes of grandeur and delight,
Of love and veneration, let me tread.
How oft beneath you oak has amorous Prior
Awaken'd Echo with ſweet Chloe's name!
While noble Sackville heard, hearing approv'd,
[134] Approving, greatly recompens'd. But he,
Alas! has number'd with th' illuſtrious dead,
And orphan merit has no guardian now!
Next Shipbourne, tho' her precincts are confin'd
To narrow limits, yet can ſhew a train
Of village beauties, paſtorally ſweet,
And rurally magnificent. Here * Fairlawn
Opes her delightful proſpects: Dear Fairlawn
There, where at once at variance and agreed,
Nature and art hold dalliance. There where rills
Kiſs the green drooping herbage, there where trees,
The tall trees-tremble at th' approach of heav'n,
And bow their ſalutation to the ſun,
Who foſters all their foliage—Theſe are thine,
Yes, little Shipbourne, boaſt that theſe are thine—
And if—But oh!—and if 'tis no diſgrace,
The birth of him who now records thy praiſe.
Nor ſhalt thou, Mereworth, remain unſung,
Where noble Weſtmoreland, his country's friend,
Bids Britiſh greatneſs love the ſilent ſhade,
Where piles ſuperb, in claſſic elegance,
Ariſe, and all is Roman, like his heart.
Nor Chatham, tho' it is not thine to ſhew
The lofty foreſt or the verdant lawns,
[135] Yet niggard ſilence ſhall not grutch thee praiſe.
The lofty foreſts by thy ſons prepar'd
Becomes the warlike navy, braves the floods,
And gives Sylvanus empire in the main.
Oh that Britannia, in the day of war,
Wou'd not alone Minerva's valour truſt,
But alſo hear her wiſdom! Then her oaks
Shap'd by her own mechanics, wou'd alone
Her iſland fortify, and fix her fame;
Nor wou'd ſhe weep, like Rachael, for her ſons,
Whoſe glorious blood, in mad profuſion,
In foreign lands is ſhed—and ſhed in vain.
Now on fair Dover's topmoſt cliff I'll ſtand,
And look with ſcorn and triumph on proud France.
Of yore an iſthmus jutting from this coaſt,
Join'd the Britannic to the Gallic ſhore;
But Neptune on a day, with fury fir'd,
Rear'd his tremendous trident, ſmote the earth,
And broke th' unnatural union at a blow.—
"'Twixt you and you, my ſervants and my ſons,
"Be there (he cried) eternal diſcord—France
"Shall bow the neck to Cantium's peerleſs offspring,
"And as the oak reigns lordly o'er the ſhrub,
"So ſhall the hop have homage from the vine."

A VOYAGE TO THE PLANETS.

[]
Tranſlated by the Rev. Mr. FAWKES, A. M.

DATUR MUNDORUM PLURALITAS.

[]
UNDE labor novus hic menti? Quae cura quietam
Sollicitat, rapienſque extra confinia terrae,
Coeleſtes ſine more jubet volitare per ignes?
Scilicet impatiens anguſto hoc orbe teneri,
Fontinelle, tuos audax imitarier auſus
Geſtio, & inſolitas ſpirant praecordia flammas.
Fallor, an ipſe venit? Delapſus ab aethere ſummo
Pegaſon urget eques, laterique flagellifer inſtat:
Me vocat; & duris deſiſte laboribus, inquit,
"Me duce, carpe viam facilem, tibi ſingula clarè
"Expediam, tibi cernere erit, quos ſidera nôrunt,
"Indigenas cultuſque virûm, moreſque docebo."
Nec mora, pennipedem conſcendo juſſus, ovanſque
(Quanquam animus ſecum volvens exempla priorum
Bellerophonteae pallet diſpendia famae)
[140] Poſt equitem ſedeo, liquidumque per aëra labor.
—Mercurium petimus primum: Dux talibus infit,
"Aſpicias vanae maleſana negotia gentis,
"Quam mens deſtituit Titane exuſta propinquo.
"Stramineis viden'? Hic velatus tempora ſertis
"Emicat, & ſolos reges crepat atque tetrarchas.
"Ille ſuam carbone Chloen depingit amator
"Infelix, aegram rudia indigeſtaque mentem
"Carmina demulcent, indoctaque tibia muſas.
"En! ſedet incomptus crines barbataque menta
"Aſtrologus, nova qui venatur ſidera, ſolus
"Semper in obſcuro penetrali; multaque muros
"Linea nigrantes, & multa triangula pingunt.
"Ecce! ſed interea curru flamante propinquat
"Titan.—Clamo, O me! gelidâ ſub rupe, ſub umbrâ
"Siſte precor: tantos nequeo perferre calores."
Pegaſon inde tuo genius felicior aſtro
Appulit, alma Venus. Spirant quam molliter aurae!
[142] Ridet ager, frugum facilis, laſcivaque florum
Nutrix; non Euri ruit hic per dulcia Tempe
Vis fera, non Boreae; ſed blandior aura Favonî,
Lenis agens tremulo nutantes vertice ſylvas,
Uſque fovet teneros, quos uſque reſcucitat, ignes.
Hic laetis animata ſonis Saltatio vivit:
Hic jam voce ciet cantum, jam pectine, dulces
Muſica docta modos: pulchrae longo ordine nymphae
Feſtivas ducunt choreas, dilecta juventus
Certatim ſtipant comites: latè halat amomo
Omne nemus, varioque aeterni veris odore:
Cura procul: circumvolitant riſuſque jocique:
Atque amor eſt, quodcunque vides. Venus ipſa volentes
Imperio regit indigenas, hic innuba Phoebe,
Innuba Pallas amet, cupiant ſervire Catones.
Jamque datum molimur iter, ſedeſque beatas
Multa gemens linquo; & lugubre rubentia Martis
[144] Arva, ubi ſanguineae dominantur in omnia rixae,
Advehimur, ferro riget horrida turba, geritque
Spiculaque, gladioſque, feroſque in bella dolones.
Pro choreà, & dulci modulamine, Pyrrhicus illis
Saltus, & horribiles placet aere ciere ſonores.
Hic conjux viduata viro longo effera luctu
Flet noctem, ſolumque torum ſterileſque Hymenaeos
Deplorans, lacerat crines, & pectora plangit:
Nequicquam—ſponſus ni fortè appareat, hoſpes
Heu! brevis, in ſomnis, & ludicra fallat imago.
Immemor ille tori interea ruit acer in hoſtem:
Horrendum ſtrepit armorum fragor undique campis;
Atque immortales durant in ſaecula pugnae.
Hinc Jovis immenſum delati accedimus orbem.
Illic mille locis exercet ſaeva tyrannus
Imperia in totidem ſervos, totidemque rebelles:
Sed brevis exercet: parat illi fata veneno
[146] Perjurus, populoſque premit novus ipſe tyrannus.
Hi decies pacem figunt pretio atque refigunt:
Tum demum arma parant: longe lateque cohortes
Extenduntur agris; ſimul aequora tota teguntur
Claſſibus, & ficti celebrantur utrinque triumphi.
Faedera mox ineunt nunquam violanda; brevique
Belli iterum ſimulachra cient; referuntur in altum
Claſſes, pacificoque replentur milite campi.
Filius hic patri meditatur, ſponſa marito,
Servus hero inſidias. Has leges ſcilicet illis
Impoſuit natura locis, quo tempore patrem
Jupiter ipſe ſuum ſolio detruſit avito.
Inde venena viris, perjuria, munera, fraudes
Suadet opum ſitis, & regnandi dira cupido.
Saturni tandem nos illaetabilis ora
Accipit: ignavum pecus hic per opaca locorum
Pingueſcunt de more, gravi torpentque veterno.
Vivitur in ſpecubus: quis enim tam ſedulus, arces
Qui ſtruat ingentes, operoſaque maenia condat?
[148] Idem omnes ſtupor altus habet, ſub pectore fixus.
Non ſtudia ambitioſa Jovis, varioſqve labores
Mercurii, non Martis opus, non Cyprida nôrunt.
Poſt obitum, ut perhibent, ſedes glomerantur in iſtas
Qui longam nullas vitam excoluêre per artes;
Sed Cerere & Baccho pleni, ſomnoque ſepulti
Cunctarum duxêre aeterna oblivia rerum.
Non avium auditur cantus, non murmur aquarum,
Mugituſve boum, aut pecorum balatus in agris:
Nudos non decorant ſegetes, non gramina campos.
Sylva, uſquam ſ [...] ſylva, latet ſub monte nivali,
Et canet viduata comis: hic noctua tantùm
Gliſque habitat, bufoque & cum teſtudine, talpa.
Flumina dum tardè ſubterlabentia terras
Pigram undam volvunt, & ſola papavera paſcunt:
Quorum lentus odor, lethaeaque pocula ſomnos
Suadent perpetuos, circumfuſaeque tenebrae.
[150]
Horrendo viſu obſtupui: quin Pegaſon ipſum
Defecêre animi; ſenſit dux, terque flagello
Inſonuit clarùm, terque altâ voce morantem
Increpuit: ſecat ille cito pede laevia campi
AEtherei, terraeque ſecundâ allabitur aurâ.
Cantabr. in Comitiis prioribus 1740-1.

A VOYAGE to the PLANETS.
Tranſlated by the Rev. Mr. FAWKES, A. M.

[]
SAY, what uncommon cares diſturb my reſt,
And kindle raptures foreign to my breaſt?
From earth's low confines lift my mind on high,
To trace new worlds revolving in the sky?
Yes—I'm impatient of this orb of clay,
And boldly dare to meditate my way,
Where Fontinelle firſt ſaw the planets roll,
And all the God tumultuous ſhakes my ſoul.
'Tis He! He comes! and thro' the ſun-bright skies
Drives foaming Pegaſus, and thus he cries:
"Ceaſe, ceaſe, dear youth, too ſtudiouſly employ'd,
"And wing with me the unreſiſting void;
"'Tis thine with me round other worlds to ſoar,
"And viſit kingdoms never known before;
"While I ſuccinctly ſhew each various race,
"The manners and the genius of the place."
I (tho' my mind with lively horror fraught,
Thinks on Bellerophon, and ſhudders at the thought)
[141] Mount quick the winged ſteed; he ſprings, he flies,
Shoots thro' the yielding air, and cleaves the liquid skies!
—Firſt, ſwift Cyllenius, circling round the ſun,
We reach, when thus my friendly guide begun:
"Mark well the genius of this fiery place,
"The wild amuſements of the brainſick race,
"Whoſe minds the beams of Titan, too intenſe,
"Affect with frenzy, and diſtract the ſenſe.
"A monarch here gives ſubject princes law,
"A mighty monarch, with a crown of ſtraw.
"There fits a lover, ſad in penſive air,
"And like the diſmal image of deſpair,
"With charcoal paints his Chloe heav'nly fair.
"In ſadly-ſoothing ſtrain rude notes he ſings,
"And ſtrikes harſh numbers from the jarring ſtrings.
"Lo! an aſtrologer, with filth beſmear'd,
"Rough and neglected, with a length of beard,
"Pores round his cell for undiſcover'd ſtars,
"And decks the wall with triangles and ſquares.
"Lo!—But the radiant car of Phoebus nigh
"Glows with red ardour, and inflames the sky—
"Oh! waft me, hide me in ſome cool retreat;
"I faint, I ſicken with the fervent heat."
Thence to that milder orb we wing our way,
Where Venus governs with an eaſy ſway.
[143] Soft breathes the air; fair Flora paints the ground,
And laughing Ceres deals her gifts around.
This bliſsful Tempe no rough blaſts moleſt,
Of bluſt'ring Boreas, or the baleful Eaſt;
But gentle Zephyrs o'er the woodlands ſtray,
Court the tall trees, and round the branches play,
AEtherial gales diſpenſing as they flow,
To fan thoſe paſſions which they teach to glow.
Here the gay youth in meaſur'd ſteps advance,
While ſprightly muſic animates the dance;
There the ſweet melody of ſound admire,
Sigh with the ſong, or languiſh to the lyre:
Fair nymphs and amorous youths, a lovely band,
Blend in the dance, light-bounding hand in hand.
From ev'ry grove the buxom Zephyrs bring
The rich ambroſia of eternal ſpring.
Care dwells not here, their pleaſures to deſtroy,
But Laughter, Jeſt, and univerſal joy:
All, all is love; for Venus reigns confeſt
The ſole ſultana of each captive breaſt:
Cold Cynthia here wou'd Cupid's victim prove,
Or the chaſte daughter of imperial Jove,
And Cato's virtue be the ſlave of love.
But now thro' deſtin'd fields of air we fly,
And leave thoſe manſions, not without a ſigh:
[145] Thence the dire coaſt we reach, the dreary plains,
Where Mars, grim god, and bloody diſcord reigns.
The hoſt in arms embattled ſternly ſtands,
The ſword, the dart, the dagger, in their hands.
Here no fair nymphs to ſilver ſounds advance,
But buſkin'd heroes form the Pyrrhic dance.
And brazen trumpets, terrible from far,
With martial muſic fire the ſoul to war.
Here the lone bride be wails her abſent lord,
The ſterile nuptials, the deſerted board,
Sighs the long nights, and, frantic with deſpair,
Beats her bare breaſt, and rends her flowing hair:
In vain ſhe ſighs, in vain diſſolves in tears—
In ſleep, perhaps, the warrior lord appears,
A fleeting form that glides before her ſight,
A momentary viſion of the night.
Mean while, regardleſs of her anxious pray'r,
The hardy huſband ſternly ſtalks to war;
Our ears the clang of ringing armour rends,
And the immortal battle never ends.
Hence thro' the boundleſs void we nimbly move,
And reach the wide-extended plains of Jove.
Here the ſtern tyrant ſways an iron rod;
A thouſand vaſſals tremble at his nod.
How ſhort the period of a tyrant's date!
The pois'nous phial ſpeeds the work of fate:
[147] Scarce is the proud, imperious tyrant dead,
But, lo! a ſecond lords it in his ſtead.
Here peace, as common merchandize, is ſold,
Heav'n's firſt beſt bleſſing for pernicious gold:
War ſoon ſucceeds, the ſturdy ſquadrons ſtand
Wide o'er the fields a formidable band;
With num'rous fleets they croud the groaning main,
And triumph for the victories they feign:
Again in ſtrict alliances unite,
Till diſcord raiſe again the phantom of a fight;
Again they ſail; again the troops prepare
Their falchions for the mockery of war.
The ſon inhuman ſeeks his father's life,
The ſlave his maſter's, and her lord's the wife.
With vengeance thus their kindling boſoms fire,
Since Jove uſurp'd the ſceptre of his fire.
Thence poiſons, perjuries, and bribes betray;
Nor other paſſions do their ſouls obey
Than thirſt of gold, and avarice of ſway.
At length we land, vaſt fields of aether croſt,
On Saturn's cold uncomfortable coaſt;
Here in the gloom the pamper'd ſluggards lull
The lazy hours, lethargically dull.
In caves they live; for who was ever known
So wiſe, ſo ſedulous to build a town?
[149]The ſame ſtupidity infects the whole,
Fix'd in the breaſt, and center'd in the ſoul.
Theſe never feel th' ambitious fires of Jove,
To Induſtry not Mercury can move,
Mars cannot ſpur to war, nor Venus woo to love.
Here rove thoſe ſouls, 'tis ſaid, when life departs,
Who never cultivated uſeful arts;
But ſtupify'd with plenty and repoſe,
Dreamt out long life in one continued doſe!
No feather'd ſongſters, with ſweet-warbled ſtrains
Attune to melting melody the plains,
No flocks wide-paſt'ring bleat, nor oxen low,
No fountains muſically murm'ring flow;
Th' ungenial waſte no tender herbage yields,
No harveſts wave luxuriant in the fields.
Low lie the groves, if groves this land can boaſt,
Chain'd in the fetters of eternal froſt,
Their beauty wither'd, and their verdure loſt.
Dull animals inhabit this abode,
The owl, mole, dormouſe, tortoiſe, and the toad.
Dull rivers deep within their channels glide,
And ſlow roll on their tributary tide:
Nor aught th' unvegetative waters feed,
But ſleepy poppy and the ſlimy reed;
Whoſe lazy fogs, like Lethe's cups, diſpenſe
Eternal ſlumbers of dull indolence.
[151]
Agaſt I ſtood, the drowſy vapours lull
My ſoul in gloom, ev'n Pegaſus grew dull.
My guide obſerv'd, and thrice he urg'd his ſpeed,
Thrice the loud laſh reſounded from the ſteed;
Fir'd at the ſtrokes, he flies with ſlacken'd rein
Swift o'er the level of the liquid plain,
Glides with the gentle gale, and lights on earth again.

THE TEMPLE OF DULNESS.

[]
Tranſlated by the ſame Hand.

Materies gaudet vi Inertiae.

[]
VErvecum in patria, quà latè Hibernica ſqualent
Arva inarata, palus horrenda voragine crebrâ
Ante oculos jacet; haud illic impune viator
Per tenebras iter inſtituat; tremit undique tellus
Sub pedibus malefida, vapores undique denſos
Sudat humus, nebuliſque amicitur triſtibus herba.
Huc fato infelix ſi quando agiteris iniquo,
Et tutò in medium liceat penetrare, videbis
Attonitus, nigrâ de nube emergere templum,
Templum ingens, immane, altum penetrale Stuporis.
Plumbea ſtat turris, plumbum ſinuatur in arcus,
Et ſolido limoſa tument fundamina plumbo.
Hanc, pia Materies, Divo aedem extruxit inerti,
Stultitiae impulſu—quid enim? Lethargica ſemper
[156] Sponte-ſuà nihil aggreditur, dormitat in horas,
Et, ſine vi, nullo gaudet Dea languida motu.
Hic ea monſtra habitant, quae olim ſub luminis auras
Materies peperit ſomno patre, lividus iſte
Zoilus, & Bavio non impar Maevius; audax
Spinoza, & Pyrrho, cumque Hobbeſio Epicurus.
Aſt omnes valeat quae muſa referre? frequentes
Uſque adeo videas Hebetes properare?—nec adfert
Quidquam opis Anglorum doctae vicinia gentis.
Sic quondam, ut perhibent, ſtupuit Boeotica tellus
Vicina licet Antycirâ, nihil inde ſalutis,
Nil tulit hellebori Zephyrus, cum ſaepe per aequor
Felicem ad Leſbon levibus volitaverit alis,
Indigenae mellita ferens ſuſpiria Florae.
Porticus illa vides? Gothicis ſuffulta columnis,
Templi aditus, quàm laxa patet! cuſtodia qualis
[158] Ante fores! quatuor formae ſua tollere miris
Ora modis! en! torva tuens ſtat limine in ipſo
Perſonam Logices induta Sophiſtica, denis
Cincta Categoriis, matrem quae maxima natu
Filia materiem agnoſcit—quantum inſtar in ipſâ eſt!
Grande caput, tenues oculi, cutis arida produnt
Fallacem: rete una manus tenet, altera fuſtem.
Veſtis arachneis ſordit circumdata telis,
Queis gaudet labyrinthaeos Dea callida nodos.
Aſpicias jam funereo gradientem inceſſu—
Quàm lentè caelo Saturni volvitur aſtrum,
Quàm lentè ſaltaverunt poſt Orphea montes,
Quàm lentè, Oxonii, ſolennis pondera caenae
Geſtant tergeminorum abdomina bedellorum.
Proxima deinde tenet loca ſorte inſana Matheſis,
Nuda pedes, chlamydem diſcincta, incompta capillos,
Immemor externi, punctoque innixa reclinat.
[160] Ante pedes vario inſcriptam diagrammate arenam
Cernas, rectis curva, atque intertexta rotunda
Schemata quadratis—queis ſcilicet abdita rerum
Pandere ſe jactat ſolam, doctaſque ſorores
Faſtidit, propriaeque nihil non arrogat arti.
Illàm olim, duce Neutono, tum tendit ad aſtra,
AEtheriaſque domos ſuperûm, indignata volantem
Turba mathematicûm retrahit, poenaſque repoſcens
Detinet in terris, nugiſque exercet ineptis.
Tertia Microphile, proles furtiva parentis
Divinae; produxit enim commixta furenti
Diva viro Phyſice—muſcas & papiliones
Luſtrat inexpletum, collumque & tempora rident
Floribus, & fungis, totâque propagine veris.
Rara oculis nugarum avidis animalia quaerit
Omne genus, ſeu ſerpit humi, ſeu ludit in undis,
Seu volitans tremulis liquidum ſecat aëra pennis.
[162] O! ubi littoribus noſtris felicior aura
Polypon appulerit, quanto cava templa Stuporis
Mugitu concuſſa trement, reboabit & ingens
Pulſa palus! Plauſu excipiet Dea blanda ſecundo
Microphile ante omnes; jam non crocodilon adorat;
Non bombyx, conchaeve juvant: ſed Polypon ardet,
Solum Polypon ardet,—& ecce! faceta feraci
Falce novos creat aſſidue, paſcitque creatos,
Ah! modo dilectis paſcit nova gaudia muſcis.
Quartam Materies peperit conjuncta Stupori,
Nomen Atheia illi, monſtrum cui lumen ademptum,
Atque aures; cui ſenſus abeſt; ſed mille triſulcae
Ore micant linguae, refugas quibus inficit auras.
Hanc Stupor ipſe parens odit, vicina nefandos
Horret ſylva ſonos, neque ſurda repercutit Echo
[164] Mendacem natura redarguit ipſa, Deumque
Et coelum, & terrae, veraciaque Aſtra fatentur.
Se ſimul agglomerans ſurgit chorus omnis aquarum,
Et puro ſublimè ſonat grave fulmen olympo.
Fonte ortus Lethaeo, ipſius ad oſtia templi,
Ire ſoporifero tendit cum murmure rivus,
Huc potum Stolidos Deus evocat agmine magno:
Grebri adſunt, largiſque ſitim reſtinguere gaudent
Hauſtibus, atque iterant calices, certantque ſtupendo.
Me, me etiam, clamo, occurrens;—ſed vellicat aurem
Calliope, nocuaſque vetat contingere lymphas.

THE TEMPLE of DULNESS.

[]
Tranſlated by the ſame Hand.
IN Ireland's wild, uncultivated plains,
Where torpid ſloth, and foggy dulneſs reigns,
Full many a fen infeſts the putrid ſhore,
And many a gulph the melancholy moor.
Let not the ſtranger in theſe regions ſtray,
Dark is the ſky, and perilous the way;
Beneath his foot-ſteps ſhakes the trembling ground,
Denſe fogs and exhalations hover round,
And with black clouds the tender turf is crown'd.
Here ſhou'd'ſt thou rove, by Fate's ſevere command,
And ſafely reach the center of the land;
Thine eyes ſhall view, with horror and ſurprize,
The fane of Dulneſs, of enormous ſize,
Emerging from the ſable cloud ariſe.
A leaden tow'r upheaves its heavy head,
Vaſt leaden arches preſs the ſlimy bed,
The ſoft ſoil ſwells beneath the load of lead.
Old Matter here erected this abode,
At Folly's impulſe, to the Slothful God.
[157] And here the drone lethargic loves to ſtay,
Slumb'ring the dull, inactive hours away;
For ſtill, unleſs by foreign force impreſt,
The languid Goddeſs holds her ſtate of reſt.
Their habitation here thoſe monſters keep,
Whom Matter father'd on the God of Sleep:
Here Zoilus, with cank'ring envy pale,
Here Maevius bids his brother Bavius, hail;
Spinoza, Epicure, and all thoſe mobs
Of wicked wits, from Pyrrho down to Hobbes.
How can the Muſe recount the numerous crew
Of frequent fools that crowd upon the view?
Nor can learn'd Albion's ſun that burns ſo clear,
Diſperſe the dulneſs that involves them here.
Boeotia thus remain'd, in days of yore,
Senſeleſs and ſtupid, tho' the neighb'ring ſhore
Afforded ſalutary hellebore:
No cure exhal'd from Zephyr's buxom breeze,
That gently bruſh'd the boſom of the ſeas,
As oft to Lesbian fields he wing'd his way,
Fanning fair Flora, and in airy play
Breath'd balmy ſighs, that melt the ſoul away.
Behold that portico! how vaſt, how wide!
The pillars Gothic, wrought with barb'rous pride:
[159] Four monſtrous ſhapes before the portal wait,
Of horrid aſpect, centry to the gate:
Lo! in the entrance, with diſdainful eye,
In Logick's dark diſguiſe, ſtands Sophiſtry:
Her very front would common ſenſe confound,
Encompaſs'd with ten categories round:
She from Old Matter, the great mother, came,
By birth the eldeſt—and how like the dame!
Her ſhrivel'd ſkin, ſmall eyes, prodigious pate,
Denote her ſhrewd, and ſubtle in debate:
This hand a net, and that ſuſtains a club,
T' entangle her antagoniſt, or drub.
The ſpider's toils, all o'er her garment ſpread,
Imply the mazy errors of her head.
Behold her marching with funereal pace,
Slow as old Saturn rolls thro' boundleſs ſpace,
Slow as the mighty mountains mov'd along,
When Orpheus rais'd the lyre-attended ſong:
Or, as at Oxford, on ſome Gaudy day,
Fat Beadles, in magnificent array,
With big round bellies bear the pond'rous treat,
And heavily lag on, with the vaſt load of meat.
The next, mad Matheſis; her feet all bare,
Ungirt, untrim'd, with diſſoluted hair:
No foreign object can her thoughts disjoint;
Reclin'd ſhe ſits, and ponders o'er a point.
[161] Before her, lo! inſcrib'd upon the ground,
Strange diagrams th' aſtoniſh'd ſight confound,
Right lines and curves, with figures ſquare and round
With theſe the monſter, arrogant and vain,
Boaſts that ſhe can all myſteries explain,
And treats the ſacred Siſters with diſdain.
She, when great Newton ſought his kindred ſkies,
Sprung high in air, and ſtrove with him to riſe,
In vain—the mathematic mob reſtrains
Her flight, indignant, and on earth detains;
E'er ſince the captive wretch her brains employs
On trifling trinkets, and on gewgaw toys.
Microphile is ſtation'd next in place,
The ſpurious iſſue of celeſtial race;
From heav'nly Phyſice ſhe took her birth,
Her ſire a madman of the ſons of earth;
On flies ſhe pores with keen, unwearied ſight,
And moths and butterflies, her dear delight;
Muſhrooms and flow'rs, collected on a ſtring,
Around her neck, around her temples cling,
With all the ſtrange production of the ſpring.
With greedy eyes ſhe'll ſearch the world to find
Rare, uncouth animals of every kind;
Whether along the humble ground they ſtray,
Or nimbly ſportive in the waters play,
Or thro' the light expanſe of aether fly,
And with fleet pinions cleave the liquid ſky.
[163] Ye gales, that gently breathe upon our ſhore,
O! let the Polypus be waſted o'er;
How will the hollow dome of Dulneſs ring,
With what loud joy receive the wond'rous thing?
Applauſe will rend the ſkies, and all around
The quivering quagmires bellow back the ſound;
How will Microphile her joy atteſt,
And glow with warmer raptures than the reſt?
This will the curious crocodile excell,
The weaving worm, and ſilver-ſhining ſhell;
No object e'er will wake her wonder thus
As Polypus, her darling Polypus.
Lo! by the wounds of her creating knife,
New Polypuſſes wriggle into life,
Faſt as they riſe, ſhe feeds with ample ſtore
Of once rare flies, but now eſteem'd no more.
The fourth dire ſhape from mother Matter came,
Dulneſs her ſire, and Atheiſm is her name;
In her no glimpſe of ſacred Senſe appears,
Depriv'd of eyes, and deſtitute of ears:
And yet ſhe brandiſhes a thouſand tongues,
And blaſts the world with air-infecting lungs.
Curs'd by her ſire, her very words are wounds,
No grove re-ecchoes the deteſted ſounds.
[165]Whate'er ſhe ſpeaks all nature proves a lye,
The earth, the heav'ns, the ſtarry-ſpangled ſky
Proclaim the wiſe, eternal Deity:
The congregated waves in mountains driven
Roar in grand chorus to the Lord of Heaven;
Thro' ſkies ſerene the glorious thunders roll,
Loudly pronounce the God, and ſhake the ſounding Pole.
A river, murmuring from Lethaean ſource,
Full to the fane directs its ſleepy courſe;
The Pow'r of Dulneſs, leaning on the brink,
Here calls the multitude of fools to drink.
Swarming they crowd to ſtupify the ſkull,
With frequent cups contending to be dull.
Me, let me taſte the ſacred ſtream, I cry'd,
Without-ſtretch'd arm—the Muſe my boon deny'd,
And ſav'd me from the ſenſe-intoxicating tide.

A MECHANICAL SOLUTION OF THE PROPAGATION of YAWNING.

[]
Tranſlated by the ſame Hand.

MUTUA OSCITATIONUM PROPAGATIO Solvi poteſt Mechanicè.

[]
MOMUS, ſcurra, procax ſuperûm, quo tempore Pallas
Exiluit cerebro Jovis, eſt pro more jocatus
Neſcio quid ſtultum de partu: excanduit irâ
Jupiter, aſper, acerba tuens; "et tu quoque, dixit,
"Garrule, concipies, faetum (que) ex ore profundes:"
Haud mora, jamque ſupinus in aulâ extenditur ingens
Deriſor; dubiâ velantur lumina nocte;
Stertit hians immane;—e naſo Gallica clangunt
Claſſica, Germani (que) ſimul ſermonis amaror:
Edita vix tandem eſt monſtrum Polychaſmia, proles
Tanto digna parente, aviae (que) ſimillima Nocti.
[170] Illa oculos tentat nequicquam aperire, veterno
Torpida, & horrendo vultum diſtorta cachinno.
AEmulus hanc Jovis aſpiciens, qui fictile vulgus
Fecerat infelix, imitarier arte Prometheus
Audet—nec flammis opus eſt coeleſtibus: aurae
Tres Stygiae flatus, nigrae tria pocula Lethes
Miſcet, & innuptae ſuſpiria longa puellae,
His adipem ſuis & guttur conjungit aſelli,
Tenſaque cum gemitu ſomniſque ſequacibus ora.
Sic etiam in terris Dea, quae mortalibus aegris
Ferret opem, inque hebetes dominarier apta, creata eſt.
Nonne vides, ut praecipiti petit oppida curſu
Ruſtica plebs, ſtipatque forum? ſublime tribunal
Armigerique equiteſque premunt, de more parati
Juſtitiae lances proferre fideliter aequas,
Grande capillitium induti, frontemque minacem.
Non temerè attoniti caupones, turbaque furum
Aufugiunt, gravidaeque timent trucia ora puellae.
At mox fida comes Polychaſmia, matutinis
Quae ſe miſcuerat poc'lis Cerealibus, ipſum
Judicis in cerebrum ſcandit—jamque unus & alter
Caeperunt longas in hiatum ducere voces:
Donec per cunctos Dea jam ſolenne, profundum
Sparſerit Hum—nutant taciti, tum brachia magno
Extendunt niſu, patulis & faucibus hiſcunt.
[172] Intereà legum Caupones jurgia miſcent,
Queis nil Rhetorice eſt, niſi copia major hiandi:
Vocibus ambiguis certant, nugaſque ſtrophaſque
Alternis jaculantur, & iraſcuntur amicè,
Donantque accipiuntque ſtuporis miſſile plumbum.
Vos, Fanatica turba, nequit pia muſa tacere.
Majoremne aliunde poteſt diducere rictum?
Aſcendit gravis Orator, miſerâque loquelâ
Expromit theſin; in partes quam deinde minutas
Diſtrahit, ut connectat, & explicat obſcurando:
Spargitur heu! pigris verborum ſomnus ab alis,
Grex circùm gemit, & plauſum declarat hiando.
Nec vos, qui falſo matrem jactatis Hygeian
Patremque Hippocratem, taceam—Polychaſmia, veſtros
Agnoſco natos: tumidas ſine pondere voces
In vulgum eructant; emuncto quiſque bacillum
Applicat auratum naſo, graviterque facetus
Totum ſe in vultum cogit, medicamina pandens—
Ruſticus haurit amara, atque inſanabile dormit;
[174] Nec ſenſus revocare queant fomenta, nec herbae,
Non ars, non mirae magicus ſonus ABRACADABRAE.
Ante alios ſumma es, Polychaſmia, cura Sophiſtae:
Ille Tui caecas vires, cauſamque latentem
Sedulus exquirit—quo ſcilicet impete fauces
Invitae disjungantur; quo vortice aquoſae
Particulae fluitent, comiteſque ut fulminis imbres,
Cum ſtrepitu erumpant; ut deinde vaporet ocellos
Materies ſubtilis; ut in cutis inſinuet ſe
Retia; tum, ſi forte datur contingere nervos
Concordes, cunctorum ora expanduntur hiulca.
Sic ubi, Phoebe pater, ſumis chelyn, harmoniamque
Abſtruſam in chordis ſimul elicis, altera, ſiquam
AEqualis tenor aptavit, tremit aemula cantûs,
Memnoniamque imitata lyram ſine pollicis ictu
Divinum reſonat proprio modulamine carmen.
Me quoque, mene tuum tetigiſti, ingrata, Poetam?
Hei mihi! totus hio tibi jam ſtupefactus; in ipſo
Parnaſſo captus longè longèque remotas
Proſpecto Muſas, ſitioque, ut Tantalus alter,
[176] Caſtalias ſitus inter aquas, inhiantis ab ore
Nectarei fugiunt latices—hos Popius urnâ
Excipit undanti, & fontem ſibi vendicat omnem.
Hand aliter Socium eſuriens Sizator edacem
Dum videt, appoſituſque cibus fruſtratur hiantem,
Dentibus infrendens nequicquam lumine torvo
Saepius exprobrat; nequicquam brachia tendit
Sedulus officioſa, dapes removere paratus.
Olli nunquam exempta fames, quin fruſta ſuprema
Devoret, & peritura immani ingurgitet ore:
Tum demum jubet auferri; nudata capaci
Oſſa ſonant, lugubre ſonant, alliſa catino.

A MECHANICAL SOLUTION OF THE PROPAGATION of YAWNING.

[]
Tranſlated by the ſame Hand.
WHEN Pallas iſſued from the brain of Jove,
Momus, the Mimic of the Gods above,
In his mock mood impertinently ſpoke,
About the birth, ſome low, ridiculous joke:
Jove, ſternly frowning, glow'd with vengeful ire,
And thus Indignant ſaid th' Almighty Sire,
"Loquacious Slave, that laugh'ſt without a cauſe,
"Thou ſhalt conceive, and bring forth at thy jaws."
He ſpoke—ſtretch'd in the hall the Mimic lies,
Supinely dull, thick vapours dim his eyes:
And as his jaws a horrid chaſm diſcloſe,
It ſeem'd he made a trumpet of his noſe;
Tho' harſh the ſtrain, and horrible to hear,
Like German jargon grating on the ear.
At length was Polychaſmia brought to light,
Worthy her ſire, a monſter of a ſight,
Reſembling her great grandmother, Old Night.
[171] Her eyes to open oft in vain ſhe try'd,
Lock'd were the lids, her mouth diſtended wide.
Her when Prometheus happen'd to ſurvey
(Rival of Jove, that made mankind of clay)
He form'd without the aid of heav'nly ray.
To three Lethaean cups he learnt to mix
Deep ſighs of virgins, with three blaſts from Styx,
The bray of aſſes, with the fat of brawn,
The ſleep-preceding groan, and hideous yawn.
Thus Polychaſmia took her wond'rous birth,
A Goddeſs helpful to the ſons of earth.
Lo! how the ruſtic multitude from far
Haſte to the town, and crowd the clam'rous bar.
The preſt bench groans with many a ſquire and knight,
Who weight out juſtice, and diſtribute right:
Severe they ſeem, and formidably big,
With front important, and huge periwig.
The little villains ſkulk aloof diſmay'd,
And panic terrors ſeize the pregnant maid.
But ſoon friend Polychaſm', who always near,
Herſelf had mingled with their morning beer,
Steals to the judges brain, and centers there.
Then in the court the horrid yawn began,
And Hum, profound and ſolemn, went from man to man:
Silent they nod, and with prodigious ſtrain
Stretch out their arms, then liſtleſs yawn again:
[173] For all the flow'rs of rhetoric they can boaſt,
Amidſt their wranglings, is to gape the moſt:
Ambiguous quirks, and friendly wrath they vent,
And give and take the leaden argument.
Ye too, Fanaticks, never ſhall eſcape
The faithful muſe; for who ſo greatly gape?
Mounted on high, with ſerious care perplext,
The miſerable preacher takes his text;
Then into parts minute, with wondrous pain,
Divides, connects, and then divides again,
And does with grave obſcurity explain:
While from his lips lean periods lingring creep,
And not one meaning interrupts their ſleep,
The drowſy hearers ſtretch their weary jaws
With lamentable groan, and yawning gape applauſe.
The Quacks of Phyſic next provoke my ire,
Who falſely boaſt Hippocrates their ſire:
Goddeſs! thy ſons I ken—verboſe and loud,
They puff their windy bubbles on the crowd:
With look important, critical, and vain,
Each to his noſe applies the gilded cane;
And as he nods, and ponders o'er the caſe,
Gravely collects himſelf into his face,
Explains his med'cines—which the ruſtic buys,
Drinks the dire draught, and of the doctor dies;
[175] No pills, no potions can to life reſtore;
ABRACADABRA, necromantic pow'r
Can charm, and conjure up from death no more.
But more than aught that's marvellous and rare,
The ſtudious Soph makes Polychaſm' his care;
Explores what ſecret ſpring, what hidden cauſe,
Diſtends with hideous chaſm th' unwilling jaws,
What latent ducts the dewy moiſture pour
With ſound tremendous, like a thunder-ſhow'r:
How ſubtile matter, exquiſitely thin,
Pervades the curious net-work of the skin,
Affects th' accordant nerve—all eyes are drown'd
In drowſy vapours, and the yawn goes round▪
When Phoebus thus his flying fingers flings
Acroſs the chords, and ſweeps the trembling ſtrings;
If e'er a lyre at uniſon there be,
It ſwells with emulating harmony,
Like Memnon's harp, in ancient times renown'd,
Breathing, untouch'd, ſweet-modulated ſound.
But oh! ungrateful! to thy own true bard,
Oh! Polychaſm', is this my juſt reward?
Thy drowſy dews upon my head diſtill,
Juſt at the entrance of th' Aonian hill;
Liſtleſs I gape, unactive, and ſupine,
And at vaſt diſtance view the ſacred Nine:
[177]Wiſtful I view—the ſtreams increaſe my thirſt,
In vain—like Tantalus, with plenty curſt,
No draughts nectareous to my portion fall,
Theſe godlike Pope exhauſts, and greatly claims them all.
Thus the lean Sizar views, with gaze agaſt,
The hungry Tutor at his noon's repaſt;
In vain he grinds his teeth—his grudging eye,
And viſage ſharp, keen appetite imply;
Oft he attempts, officious, to convey
The leſſening relicks of the meal away—
In vain—no morſel 'ſcapes the greedy jaw,
All, all is gorg'd in magiſterial maw;
Till at the laſt, obſervant of his word,
The lamentable waiter clears the board,
And inly-murmuring miſerably groans,
To ſee the empty diſh, and hear the ſounding bones.

A LATIN VERSION OF MILTON's L'ALLEGRO.

[]
‘ [...]’HOM.

L'ALLEGRO.

[]
HENCE, loathed Melancholy,
Of Cerberus, and blackeſt Mid-night born,
In Stygian cave forlorn,
Mongſt horrid ſhapes, and ſhrieks, and ſights unholy,
Find out ſome uncouth cell,
Where brooding Darkneſs ſpreads his jealous wings,
And the night-raven ſings;
There under ebon ſhades, and low-brow'd rocks,
As ragged as thy locks,
In dark Cimmerian deſart ever dwell.
But come thou Goddeſs fair and free,
In Heav'n yclep'd Euphroſyne,
And by men, heart-eaſing Mirth,
Whom lovely Venus at a birth
With two ſiſter Graces more
To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore;
Or whether (as ſome Sages ſing)
The frolick wind, that breathes the ſpring,
[182] Zephyr with Aurora playing,
As he met her once a Maying,
There on beds of violets blue,
And freſh blown roſes waſh'd in dew,
Fill'd her with thee, a daughter fair,
So buxom, blith, and debonair;
Haſte thee, Nymph, and bring with thee
Jeſt and youthful Jollity,
Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles,
Nods and becks, and wreathed ſmiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to live in dimple ſleek;
Sport, that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his ſides;
Come, and trip it, as you go,
On the light fantaſtic toe:
And in thy right hand lead with thee
The mountain Nymph, ſweet Liberty;
And if I give thee honour due,
Mirth, admit me of thy crew,
To live with her, and live with thee,
In unreproved pleaſures free;
To hear the lark begin his flight,
And ſinging ſtartle the dull night,
From his watch-tow'r in the ſkies,
Till the dappled dawn doth riſe;
[184] Then to come in ſpight of ſorrow,
And at my window bid good-morrow,
Thro' the ſweet-briar, or the vine,
Or the twiſted eglantine:
While the cock with lively din
Scatters the rear of darkneſs thin;
And to the ſtack, or the barn-door,
Stoutly ſtruts his dames before.
Oft liſt'ning how the hounds and horn
Chearly rouſe the ſlumb'ring morn,
From the ſide of ſome hoar hill,
Thro' the high wood echoing ſhrill.
Sometimes walking not unſeen
By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green,
Right againſt the eaſtern gate,
Where the great ſun begins his ſtate,
Rob'd in flames, and amber light,
The clouds in thouſand liveries dight.
While the plowman near at hand,
Whiſtles o'er the furrow'd land,
And the milkmaid ſingeth blithe,
And the mower whets his ſeythe,
And every ſhepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale.
Strait mine eye hath caught new pleaſures,
Whilſt the landſkip round it meaſures,
[186] Ruſſet lawns, and fallows gray,
Where the nibbling flocks do ſtray
Mountains, on whoſe barren breaſt
The labouring clouds do often reſt,
Meadows trim with daizies pide,
Shallow brooks, and rivers wide:
Tow'rs and battlements it ſees
Boſom'd high in tufted trees,
Where perhaps ſome beauty lies
The Cynoſure of neighbouring eyes.
Hard by a cottage chimney ſmokes,
From betwixt two aged oaks,
Where Corydon and Thyrſis met,
Are at their favory dinner ſet
Of herbs and other country meſſes,
Which the neat-handed Phillis dreſſes;
And then in haſte her bower ſhe leaves
With Theſtylis to bind the ſheaves;
Or if the earlier ſeaſon lead
To the tann'd hay-cock in the mead,
Sometimes with ſecure delight
The up-land Hamlets will invite,
When the merry bells ring round,
And the jocund rebecks ſound
To many a youth and many a maid,
Dancing in the chequer'd ſhade;
[188] And young and old come forth to play
On a ſun-ſhine holy-day,
Till the live-long day-light fail,
Then to the ſpicy nut-brown ale,
With ſtories told of many a feat,
How fairy Mab the junkets eat;
She was pinch'd, and pull'd, ſhe ſaid,
And by the Friar's lanthorn led;
Tells how the drudging goblin ſweat,
To earn his cream-bowl duly ſet,
When in one night, ere glimpſe of morn,
His ſhadowy flail hath threſh'd the corn
That ten day-labourers could not end,
Then lies him down the lubbar fiend,
And ſtretch'd out all the chimny's length,
Baſks at the fire his hairy ſtrength;
And crop-full out of doors he flings,
Ere the firſt cock his mattin ſings.
Thus done the tales, to bed they creep,
By whiſpering winds ſoon lull'd aſleep.
Towred cities pleaſe us then,
And the buſy humm of men,
Where throngs of knights and barons bold,
In weeds of peace high triumph hold,
With ſtore of ladies, whoſe bright eyes
Rain influence, and judge the prize
[190] Of wit or arms, while both contend
To win her grace whom all commend.
There let Hymen oft appear,
In ſaffron robe, with taper clear,
And pomp, and feaſt, and revelry,
With maſk and antique pageantry,
Such ſights as youthful poets dream
On ſummer eves by haunted ſtream.
Then to the well-trod ſtage anon,
If Johnſon's learned ſock be on,
Or ſweeteſt Shakeſpear, Fancy's child,
Warble his native wood-notes wild,
And ever againſt eating cares
Lap me in ſoft Lydian airs,
Married to immortal verſe,
Such as the meeting ſoul may pierce
In notes, with many a winding bout
Of linked ſweetneſs long drawn out
With wanton heed, and giddy cunning,
The melting voice thro' mazes running;
Untwiſting all the chains that tye
The hidden ſoul of harmony:
[192] That Orpheus ſelf may heave his head
From golden ſlumber on a bed
Of heap'd Elyſian flow'rs, and hear
Such ſtrains as would have won the ear
Of Pluto, to have quite ſet free
His half-regain'd Eurydice.
Theſe delights, if thou canſt give,
Mirth, with thee I mean to live.

'Ο ΠΑΙΓΝΙΩΔΣ.

[]
PROCUL hinc, O procul eſto informis AEgrimonia,
Quam janitori Obſcuritas nigerrima
Suſcepit olim Cerbero,
Deſertam in cavea Stygis profundâ,
Horribiles inter formas, viſuſque proſanos,
Obſcoenoſque ululatus,
Incultam licet invenire ſedem,
Nox ubi parturiens
Zelotypis furtim nido ſuperincubat alis
Queriturque triſtis noctua,
Sub denſis illic ebenis ſcopuliſque cavatis,
Veſtri rugoſis more ſupercilii,
AEternùm maneas Cimmeriâ in domo.
Sed huc propinquet comis et pulcherrima,
Quae nympha divis audit Ephroſyne choris,
Patiens tamen vocatur a mortalibus
Medicina cordis hilaritas, quam candida
Venus duabus inſuper cum Gratiis
Dias Lyaeo patri in auras edidit:
Sive ille ventus (caeteri ut Myſtae canunt)
Jocundus aurâ qui ver implet melleâ,
[183] Zephyrus puellam amplexus eſt Tithoniam
Quondam calendis feriatam Maiis,
Tunc pallidis genuit ſuper violariis,
Super et roſarum roſcidâ lanugine,
Alacrem, beatam, vividamque filiam.
Agedum puella, quin pari vadant gradu
Jocus et Juventas, Scommata et Protervitas,
Doluſque duplex, nutus et nictatio,
Tenuiſque riſus huc et huc contortilis;
Qualis venuſtâ pendet Hebes in genâ,
Amatque jungi laevibus gelaſinis;
Curae ſequatur Ludus infeſtus nigrae, et
Laterum Cachinnus pinguium fruſtra tenax.
Agite caterva ludat exultim levis,
Pedeſque dulcis ſublevet laſcivia;
Dextrumque claudat alma Libertas latus,
Oreadum palantium ſuaviſſima;
Et, ſi tuis honoribus non defui,
Me ſcribe veſtrae, laeta Virgo, familiae,
Ut illius ſimul et tui conſortio
Liberrimâ juvenemur innocentiâ;
Ut cum volatus auſpicatur concitos,
Stupidamque alauda voce noctem territat;
Levata coeleſtem in pharon diluculò,
Priùſque gilvum quam rubet crepuſculum.
[185] Tunc ad feneſtras (anxii nolint, velint)
Diem precemur proſperam viciniae,
Caput exerentes e roſis ſylveſtibus,
Seu vite, ſive flexili cynoſbato.
Dum Martius clamore Gallus vivido
Tenuem laceſſit in fugâ caliginem,
Graditurve farris ad ſtruem, vel horreum,
Dominae praeeuns, graduque grandi glorians.
Saepe audiamus ut canes et cornua
Sonore laeto mane ſopitum cient,
Dum quà praealti clivus albeſcit jugi,
Docilis canora reddit Echo murmura.
Mox, teſte multo, quà virent colles, vager,
Ulmoſque ſepes ordinatas implicat,
Eoa ſtans apricus ante limina,
Ubi ſol coruſcum magnus inſtaurat diem
Veſtitus igni, lucidoque ſuccino,
Inter micantûm mille formas nubium.
Vicinus agrum dum colonus tranſmeat,
Atque aemulatur ore fiſtulam rudi,
Mulctramque portat cantitans puellula,
Falcique cotem meſſor aptat ſtridulae,
Suamque paſtor quiſque garrit fabulam,
Reclinis in convalle, ſubter arbuto.
Mox illecebras oculus arripuit novas,
Dum longus undiquaque proſpectus patet,
[187] Canum novale, et fuſca ſaltûs aequora,
Quà pecora gramen demetunt vagantia,
Sublimium ſterilia terga montium,
Qui ponderoſa ſaepe torquent nubila,
Maculoſa vernis prata paſſim bellibus,
Amnes vadoſi, et latiora flumina.
Pinnaſque murorum, atque turres cernere eſt
Criſtata circùm quas coronant robora,
Ubi forte quaedam nympha fallit, cui decor
Viciniam (cynoſura tanquam) illuminat.
Juxta duarum ſubter umbrâ quercuum,
Culmis opertâ fumus emicat caſâ,
Qua jam vocati Thyrſis et Corydon ſedent,
Famemque odoro compriment convivio,
Herbis, cibiſque ruſticis, nitidiſſimâ
Quae ſufficit ſuccincta Phillis dexterâ:
Mox Theſtyli morem gerens jacentia
Aureis catenis cogit in faſces ſata:
Verniſve in horis, ſole toſtum virgines
Faenum recenti pellicit fragrantiâ;
Eſt et ſerenis quando faeta gaudiis
Excelſiora perplacent magalia;
Utcunque juxta flumen in numerum ſonant
Campanae, et icta dulcè barbitos ſtrepit,
Dum multa nympha, multa pubes duritèr
Pellunt trementes ad canorem ceſpites
Dubias per umbras; qua labore liberi
[189] Juveneſque ludunt, et ſenes promiſcui,
Melius nitente ſole propter ferias.
Jam quando veſperaſcit, omnes allicit
Auro liquenti Bacchus hordiaceus,
Phylliſque narrat fabuloſa facinora,
Lamia ut paratas Mabba conſumpſit dapes,
Se vapulaſſe, et eſſe preſſam ab Incubo,
Fatuoque tritâ ab igne ſeductam viâ;
Ut et laborem ſubiit Idolon gravem,
Floremque lactis meritus eſt ſtipendium;
Unius (inquit) ante noctis exitum
Tot grana frugis fuſte trivit veneficus,
Quot expedire ruſtici nequeunt decem,
Quo jam peracto plumbeum monſtrum cubat,
Focumque totum latere longo metiens
Crinita membra feſſus igne recreat;
Dein, priuſquam gallus evocat diem,
Tandem ſatur phantaſma ſeſe proripit.
Sic abſolutis fabulis ineunt toros,
Atque ad ſuſurros dormiunt favonii,
Turrita deinde perplacebunt oppida,
Et gentis occupatae mixta murmura,
Equitumque turba, nobileſque ſpendidi,
Qui pacis ipſâ vel triumphant in togâ,
Nuruſque, quarum lumen impetus viris
Jaculatur acres, praemiumque deſtinat
[191] Marti aut Minervae, quorum uterque nititur
Nymphae probari, quae probatur omnibus:
Hymenaeus illic ſaepe praetendat facem
Clariſſimam, croceumque velamen trahat,
Spectac'la, mimi, pompa, commiſſatio,
Veterumque ritu nocte ſint convivia,
Taleſque viſus, quos vident in ſomniis
Juvenes poetae, dum celebris rivuli
Securi ad oram veſpere aeſtivo jacent.
Tunc ad theatra demigrem frequentia
Johnſone, ſi tu, docte ſoccum proferas;
Sive * Ille muſae filius fundat ſonos,
Quam dulcè, quam felicitèr temerarios!
Curaeque carmen ſemper antidotos modis
Mentem relaxet involutam Lydiis;
Oh! ſim perenni emancipatus carmini,
Quod tentet uſque ad intimum cor emicans,
Aureſque gratis detinens ambagibus
Pedibus ligatis ſuaviter nectat moras,
Dum liquida vox, labyrinthus ut, deflectitur
Dolo perita et negligenti induſtriâ,
Variàque caecos arte nodos explicat,
Animam latentem qui coercent muſices;
[193] Adeo ut quiete expergefactus aureâ
Toros relinquat ipſe Thrax amaranthinos,
Medioque tales captet Elyſio ſonos,
Quales avaram ſuadeant Proſerpinam
Nullâ obligatam lege ſponſam reddere.
His ſi redundes gaudiis, prudentis eſt,
Laetitia, tecum velle vitam degere.

BALLADS, FABLES, AND OTHER MISCELLANEOUS PIECES.

[]
Adhuc ſuperſunt multa, quae poſſim loqui,
Et copioſa abundat rerum varietas.
PHAEDRUS.

SWEET WILLIAM. BALLAD I.

[]
I.
BY a prattling ſtream, on a Midſummer's eve,
Where the woodbine and jeſſ'mine their boughs interweave,
Fair Flora, I cry'd, to my arbour repair,
For I muſt have a chaplet for ſweet William's hair.
II.
She brought me the vi'let that grows on the hill,
The vale dwelling lilly, and gilded jonquill:
But ſuch languid odours how cou'd I approve,
Juſt warm from the lips of the lad that I love.
III.
She brought me, his faith and his truth to diſplay,
The undying myrtle, and ever-green bay:
But why theſe to me, who've his conſtancy known?
And Billy has laurels enough of his own.
IV.
The next was a gift that I could not contemn,
For ſhe brought me two roſes that grew on a ſtem:
Of the dear nuptial tie they ſtood emblems confeſt,
So I kiſs'd 'em, and preſs'd 'em quite cloſe to my breaſt.
[198]V.
She brought me a ſun-flow'r—This, fair one's, your due;
For it once was a maiden, and love-ſick like you:
Oh! give it me quick, to my ſhepherd I'll run,
As true to his flame, as this flow'r to the ſun.

The LASS with the golden Locks. BALLAD II.

I.
NO more of my Harriot, of Polly no more,
Nor all the bright beauties that charm'd me before;
My heart for a ſlave to gay Venus I've ſold,
And barter'd my freedom for ringlets of gold:
I'll throw down my pipe, and neglect all my flocks,
And will ſing to my laſs with the golden locks.
II.
Tho' o'er her white forehead the gilt treſſes flow,
Like the rays of the ſun on a hillock of ſnow;
Such painters of old drew the Queen of the Fair,
'Tis the taſte of the antients, 'tis claſſical hair:
And tho' witlings may ſcoff, and tho' raillery mocks,
Yet I'll ſing to my laſs with the golden locks.
[199]III.
To live and to love, to converſe and be free,
Is loving, my charmer, and living with thee:
Away go the hours in kiſſes and rhime,
Spite of all the grave lectures of old father Time;
A fig for his dials, his watches and clocks,
He's beſt ſpent with the laſs of the golden locks.
IV.
Than the ſwan in the brook ſhe's more dear to my ſight,
Her mien is more ſtately, her breaſt is more white,
Her ſweet lips are rubies, all rubies above,
Which are fit for the language or labour of love;
At the park in the mall, at the play in the box,
My laſs bears the bell with her golden locks.
V.
Her beautiful eyes, as they roll or they flow,
Shall be glad for my joy, or ſhall weep for my woe;
She ſhall eaſe my fond heart, and ſhall ſooth my ſoft pain,
While thouſands of rivals are ſighing in vain;
Let them rail at the fruit they can't reach, like the fox,
While I have the laſs with the golden locks.

The DECISION. BALLAD III.

[200]
I.
MY Florio, wildeſt of his ſex,
(Who ſure the verieſt ſaint wou'd vex)
From beauty roves to beauty;
Yet, tho' abroad the wanton roam,
Whene'er he deigns to ſtay at home,
He always minds his duty.
II.
Something to every charming ſhe,
In thoughtleſs prodigality,
He's granting ſtill and granting,
To Phyllis that, to Cloe this,
And every madam, every miſs;
Yet I find nothing wanting.
III.
If haply I his will diſpleaſe,
Tempeſtuous as th' autumnal ſeas
He foams and rages ever;
[201] But when he ceaſes from his ire,
I cry, ſuch ſpirit, and ſuch fire,
Is ſurely wond'rous clever.
IV.
I ne'er want reaſon to complain;
But ſweet is pleaſure after pain,
And every joy grows greater.
Then truſt me, damſels, whilſt I tell,
I ſhould not like him half ſo well,
If I cou'd make him better.

The TALKATIVE FAIR. BALLAD IV.

I.
FROM morn to night, from day to day,
At all times and at every place,
You ſcold, repeat, and ſing, and ſay,
Nor are there hopes, you'll ever ceaſe.
II.
Fobear, my Celia, oh! forbear,
If your own health, or ours you prize;
For all mankind that hear you, ſwear
Your tongue's more killing than your eyes.
[202]III.
Your tongue's a traytor to your face,
Your fame's by your own noiſe obſcur'd,
All are diſtracted while they gaze;
But if they liſten, they are cur'd.
IV.
Your ſilence wou'd acquire more praiſe,
Than all you ſay, or all I write;
One look ten thouſand charms diſplays;
Then huſh—and be an angel quite.

The SILENT FAIR. BALLAD V.

I.
FROM all her fair loquacious kind,
So different is my Roſalind,
That not one accent can I gain
To crown my hopes, or ſooth my pain.
II.
Ye lovers, who can conſtrue ſighs,
And are the interpreters of eyes,
To language all her looks tranſlate,
And in her geſtures read my fate.
[203]III.
And if in them you chance to find
Ought that is gentle, ought that's kind,
Adieu mean hopes of being great,
And all the littleneſs of ſtate.
IV.
All thoughts of grandeur I'll deſpiſe,
Which from dependence take their riſe;
To ſerve her ſhall be my employ,
And love's ſweet agony my joy.

The FORCE of INNOCENCE. To Miſs C [...]. BALLAD VI.

I.
THE blooming damſel, whoſe defence
Is adamantine innocence,
Requires no guardian to attend
Her ſteps, for modeſty's her friend:
Tho' her fair arms are weak to wield
The glitt'ring ſpear, and maſſy ſhield;
Yet ſafe from force and fraud combin'd,
She is an Amazon in mind.
[204]II.
With this artillery ſhe goes,
Not only 'mongſt the harmleſs beaux:
But even unhurt and undiſmay'd,
Views the long ſword and fierce cockade.
Tho' all a ſyren as ſhe talks,
And all a goddeſs as ſhe walks,
Yet decency each action guides,
And wiſdom o'er her tongue preſides.
III.
Place her in Ruſſia's ſhowery plains,
Where a perpetual winter reigns,
The elements may rave and range,
Yet her fix'd mind will never change.
Place her, Ambition, in thy tow'rs,
'Mongſt the more dang'rous golden ſhow'rs,
E'en there ſhe'd ſpurn the venal tribe,
And fold her arms againſt the bribe.
IV.
Leave her defenceleſs and alone,
A pris'ner in the torrid zone,
The ſunſhine there might vainly vie
With the bright luſtre of her eye;
But Phoebus' ſelf, with all his fire,
Cou'd ne'er one unchaſte thought inſpire.
But virtue's path ſhe'd ſtill purſue,
And ſtill, my fair, wou'd copy you.

The DISTRESSED DAMSEL. BALLAD VII.

[205]
I.
OF all my experience how vaſt the amount,
Since fifteen long winters I fairly can count!
Was ever a damſel ſo ſadly betray'd,
To live to theſe years and yet ſtill be a maid?
II.
Ye heroes triumphant, by land and by ſea,
Sworn vott'ries to love, but undmindful of me;
You can ſtrom a ſtrong fort, or can form a blockade,
Yet ye ſtand by, like daſtards, and ſee me a maid.
III.
Ye lawyers ſo juſt, who with ſlippery tongue,
Can do what you pleaſe, or with right, or with wrong,
Can it be, or by law or by equity ſaid,
That a buxom young girl ought to die an old maid?
IV.
Ye learned phyſicians, whoſe excellent ſkill
Can ſave, or demoliſh, can cure, or can kill,
To a poor, forlorn damſel contribute your aid,
Who is ſick—very ſick—of remaining a maid.
[206]V.
Ye fops, I invoke, not to liſt to my ſong,
Who anſwer no end—and to no ſex belong;
Ye echoes of echoes, and ſhadows of ſhade—
For if I had you—I might ſtill be a maid.

The FAIR RECLUSE. BALLAD VIII.

I.
YE ancient patriarchs of the wood,
That veil around theſe awful glooms,
Who many a century have ſtood
In verdant age, that ever blooms.
II.
Ye Gothic tow'rs, by vapours denſe,
Obſcur'd into ſeverer ſtate,
In paſtoral magnificence
At once ſo ſimple and ſo great.
III.
Why all your jealous ſhades on me,
Ye hoary elders do ye ſpread?
Fair Innocence ſhou'd ſtill be free,
Nought ſhou'd be chain'd, but what we dread.
[207]IV.
Say, muſt theſe tears for ever flow?
Can I from patience learn content,
While ſolitude ſtill nurſes woe,
And leaves me leiſure to lament.
V.
My guardian ſee!—who wards off peace,
Whoſe cruelty is his employ,
Who bids the tongue of tranſport ceaſe,
And ſtops each avenue to joy?
VI.
Freedom of air alone is giv'n,
To aggravate, not ſooth my grief,
To view th' immenſely-diſtant heav'n,
My neareſt proſpect of relief.

To Miſs [...] one of the Chicheſter Graces. BALLAD IX.
Written in Goodwood Gardens, September 1750.

[208]
I.
"YE hills that overlook the plains,
"Where wealth and Gothic greatneſs reigns,
"Where Nature's hand by Art is check'd,
"And Taſte herſelf is architect;
"Ye fallows grey, ye foreſts brown,
"And ſeas that the vaſt proſpect crown,
"Ye freight the ſoul with fancy's ſtore,
"Nor can ſhe one idea more!"
II.
I ſaid—when deareſt of her kind
(Her form the picture of her mind)
Chloris approach'd—The landſkip flew!
All nature vaniſh'd from my view!
She ſeem'd all Nature to comprize,
Her lips! her beauteous breaſts! her eyes!
That rous'd, and yet abaſh'd deſire,
With liquid, languid, living fire!
[209]III.
But then—her voice!—how fram'd t' endear!
The muſic of the Gods to hear!
Wit that ſo pierc'd, without offence,
So brac'd by the ſtrong nerves of ſenſe!
Pallas with Venus play'd her part,
To rob me of an honeſt heart;
Prudence and Paſſion jointly ſtrove,
And Reaſon was th' ally of Love.
IV.
Ah me! thou ſweet, delicious maid,
From whence ſhall I ſollicit aid?
Hope and deſpair alike deſtroy,
One kills with grief, and one with joy.
Celeſtial Chloris! Nymph divine!
To ſave me, the dear taſk be thine.
Tho' conqueſt be the woman's care,
The angel's glory is to ſpare.

The PHYSICIAN and the MONKEY. An EPIGRAM.

[210]
A LADY ſent lately to one Doctor Drug,
To come in an inſtant, and clyſter poor Pug—
As the fair one commanded he came at the word,
And did the grand office in tie-wig and ſword.
The affair being ended, ſo ſweet and ſo nice!
He held out his hand with—"You know, ma'am, my price."
"Your price," ſays the lady—"Why, Sir, he's your brother,
"And doctors muſt never take fees of each other."

APOLLO and DAPHNE. An EPIGRAM.

WHEN Phoebus was am'rous, and long'd to be rude,
Miſs Daphne cry'd Piſh! and ran ſwift to the wood,
And rather than do ſuch a naughty affair,
She became a fine laurel to deck the God's hair.
[211]
The nymph was, no doubt, of a cold conſtitution;
For ſure to turn tree was an odd reſolution!
Yet in this ſhe behav'd like a true modern ſpouſe,
For ſhe fled from his arms to diſtinguiſh his brows.

The BAG-WIG and the TOBACCO-PIPE. A FABLE.

A Bag-wig of a jauntee air,
Trick'd up with all a barber's care,
Loaded with powder and perfume,
Hung in a ſpendthrift's dreſſing-room;
Cloſe by its ſide, by chance convey'd,
A black Tobacco-pipe was laid;
And with its vapours far and near,
Outſtunk the eſſence of Monſieur;
At which its rage, the thing of hair,
Thus, briſtling up, began declare.
"Bak'd dirt! that with intruſion rude
"Breaks in upon my ſolitude,
"And with thy fetid breath defiles
"The air for forty thouſand miles—
[212] "Avaunt—pollution's in thy touch—
"O barb'rous Engliſh! horrid Dutch!
"I cannot bear it—Here, Sue, Nan,
"Go call the maid to call the man,
"And bid him come without delay,
"To take this odious pipe away.
"Hideous! ſure ſome one ſmoak'd thee, Friend,
"Reverſely, at his t'other end.
"Oh! what mix'd odours! what a throng
"Of ſalt and ſour, of ſtale and ſtrong!
"A moſt unnatural combination,
"Enough to mar all perſpiration—
"Monſtrous! again—'twou'd vex a ſaint!
"Suſan, the drops—or elſe I faint!"
The pipe (for 'twas a pipe of ſoul)
Raiſing himſelf upon his bole,
In ſmoke, like oracle of old,
Did thus his ſentiments unfold.
"Why, what's the matter, Goodman Swagger,
"Thou flaunting French, fantaſtic bragger?
"Whoſe whole fine ſpeech is (with a pox)
"Ridiculous and heterodox.
"'Twas better for the Engliſh nation
"Before ſuch ſcoundrels came in faſhion,
"When none ſought hair in realms unknown,
"But every blockhead bore his own.
[213] "Know, puppy, I'm an Engliſh pipe,
"Deem'd worthy of each Briton's gripe,
"Who, with my cloud-compelling aid
"Help our plantations and our trade,
"And am, when ſober and when mellow,
"An upright, downright, honeſt fellow.
"Tho' fools, like you, may think me rough,
"And ſcorn me, 'cauſe I am in buff,
"Yet your contempt I glad receive,
"'Tis all the fame that you can give:
"None finery or fopp'ry prize;
"But they who've ſomething to diſguiſe;
"For ſimple nature hates abuſe,
"And Plainneſs is the dreſs of Uſe."

CARE and GENEROSITY. A FABLE.

OLD Care with Induſtry and Art,
At length ſo well had play'd his Part;
He heap'd up ſuch an ample ſtore,
That Av'rice cou'd not ſigh for more:
Ten thouſand flocks his ſhepherd told,
His coffers overflow'd with Gold;
The land all round him was his own,
With corn his crouded granaries groan.
[214] In ſhort ſo vaſt his charge and gain,
That to poſſeſs them was a pain;
With happineſs oppreſs'd he lies,
And much too prudent to be wiſe.
Near him there liv'd a beauteous maid,
With all the charms of youth array'd;
Good, amiable, ſincere and free,
Her name was Generoſity.
'Twas hers the largeſs to beſtow
On rich and poor, on friend and foe.
Her doors to all were open'd wide,
The pilgrim there might ſafe abide:
For th' hungry and the thirſty crew,
The bread ſhe broke, the drink ſhe drew;
There Sickneſs laid her aching head,
And there Diſtreſs cou'd find a bed.—
Each hour with an all-bounteous hand,
Diffuſed ſhe bleſſings round the land:
Her gifts and glory laſted long,
And numerous was th' accepting throng.
At length pale Penury ſeiz'd the dame,
And Fortune fled, and Ruin came,
She found her riches at an end,
And that ſhe had not made one friend.—
All curſed her for not giving more,
Nor thought on what ſhe'd done before;
[215] She wept, ſhe rav'd, ſhe tore her hair,
When lo! to comfort her came Care.—
And cry'd, my dear, if you will join,
Your hand in nuptial bonds with mine;
All will be well—you ſhall have ſtore,
And I be plagu'd with Wealth no more.—
Tho' I reſtrain your bounteous heart,
You ſtill ſhall act the generous part.—
The Bridal came—great was the feaſt,
And good the pudding and the prieſt;
The bride in nine moons brought him forth
A little maid of matchleſs worth:
Her face was mix'd of Care and Glee,
They chriſten'd her Oeconomy;
And ſtyled her fair Diſcretion's Queen,
The miſtreſs of the golden mean.
Now Generoſity confin'd,
Is perfect eaſy in her mind;
She loves to give, yet knows to ſpare,
Nor wiſhes to be free from Care.

AN OCCASIONAL PROLOGUE and EPILOGUE TO OTHELLO,

[216]

As it was acted at the Theatre-Royal in Drury-Lane, on Thurſday the 7th of March 1751, by Perſons of Di⯑ſtinction for their Diverſion.

WHILE mercenary actors tread the ſtage,
And hireling ſcriblers laſh or lull the age,
Ours be the task t'inſtruct, and entertain,
Without one thought of glory or of gain.
Virtue's her own—from no external cauſe—
She gives, and ſhe demands the Self-applauſe:
Home to her breaſt ſhe brings the heart-felt bays,
Heedleſs alike of profit, and of praiſe.
This now perhaps is wrong—yet this we know,
'Twas ſenſe and truth a century ago:
When Britain with tranſcendent glory crown'd,
For high atchievements, as for wit renown'd;
[217] Cull'd from each growing grace the pureſt part,
And cropt the flowers from every blooming art.
Our nobleſt youth would then embrace the taſk
Of comic humour, or the myſtic maſque.
'Twas theirs t'incourage worth, and give to bards
What now is ſpent in boxing and in cards:
Good ſenſe their pleaſure—Virtue ſtill their guide,
And Engliſh magnanimity—their pride.
Methinks I ſee with Fancy's magic eye,
The ſhade of Shakeſpear, in yon azure ſky.
On you high cloud behold the bard advance,
Piercing all Nature with a ſingle glance:
In various attitudes around him ſtand
The paſſions, waiting for his dread command.
Firſt kneeling Love before his feet appears,
And muſically ſighing melts in tears.
Near him fell Jealouſy with fury burns,
And into ſtorms the amorous breathings turns;
Then Hope with heavenward look, and Joy draws near,
While palſied Terror trembles in the rear.
Such Shakeſpear's train of horror and delight,
And ſuch we hope to introduce to-night.
But if, tho' juſt in thought, we fail in fact,
And good intention ripens not to act,
Weigh our deſign, your cenſure ſtill defer,
When truth's in view 'tis glorious e'en to err.

EPILOGUE. Spoken by DESDEMONA.

[218]
TRUE woman to the laſt—my peroration
I come to ſpeak in ſpight of ſuffocation;
To ſhew the preſent and the age to come,
We may be choak'd, but never can be dumb.
Well now methinks I ſee you all run out,
And haſte away to Lady Bragwell's rout;
Each modiſh ſentiment to hear and weigh,
Of thoſe who nothing think, and all things ſay.
Prudella firſt in parody begins,
(For Nonſenſe and Buffoonery are twins)
"Can beaux the court for theatres exchange?
"I ſwear by Heaven 'tis ſtrange, 'tis paſſing ſtrange;
"And very whimſical, and mighty dull,
"And pitiful, and wond'rous pitiful:
"I wiſh I had not heard it—Bleſſed dame!
Whene'er ſhe ſpeaks her audience wiſh the ſame.
Next Neddy Nicely—"Fye, O fye, good lack,
"A naſty man to make his face all black."
Then Lady Stiffneck ſhews her pious rage,
And wonders we ſhou'd act—upon a ſtage.
[219] "Why, ma'me, ſays Coquetilla, a diſgrace?
"Merit in any form may ſhew her face:
"In this dull age the male things ought to play,
"To teach them what to do, and what to ſay."
In ſhort, they all with different cavils cram us,
And only are unanimous to damn us.
But ſtill there are a fair judicious few,
Who judge unbiaſs'd, and with candour view;
Who value honeſty, tho' clad in buff,
And wit, tho' dreſs'd in an old Engliſh ruff.
Behold them here—I beaming ſenſe deſcry,
Shot from the living luſtre of each eye.
Such meaning ſmiles each blooming face adorn,
As deck the pleaſure-painted brow of morn;
And ſhew the perſon of each matchleſs fair,
Tho' rich to rapture, and above compare,
Is, even with all the ſkill of heaven deſign'd,
But an imperfect image of their mind;
While chaſtity unblemiſh'd and unbrib'd
Adds a majeſtic mien that ſcorns to be deſcrib'd:
Such, we will vaunt, and only ſuch as theſe,
'Tis our ambition, and our fame to pleaſe.

THE JUDGMENT OF MIDAS. A MASQUE.

[]
‘Auriculas Aſini Mida Rex habet. ’JUV.

PERSONS repreſented.

[]
  • APOLLO.
  • PAN.
  • TIMOLUS, God of the Mountain.
  • MIDAS.
  • CALLIOPE.
  • MELPOMENE.
  • AGNO, MELINOE, Two Wood-nymphs.
  • SATYRS, &c.

THE JUDGMENT of MIDAS.

[]
TIMOLUS, MELINOE and AGNO, two Wood-nymphs.
TIMOLUS.
AGNO, To-day we wear our acron crown,
The parſley wreath be thine; it is moſt meet
We grace the preſence of theſe rival gods
With all the honours of our woodland weeds.
Thine was the taſk, Melinoe, to prepare
The turf-built theatre, the boxen bow'r,
And all the ſylvan ſcen'ry.
MELINOE.
That taſk,
Sire of theſe ſhades, is done. On yeſter eve,
Aſſiſted by a thouſand friendly fays,
While fav'ring Dian held her glitt'ring lamp,
[224] We ply'd our nightly toils, nor ply'd we long,
For Art was not the miſtreſs of our revels,
'Twas gentle Nature, whom we jointly woo'd;
She heard, and yielded to the forms we taught her,
Yet ſtill remain'd herſelf—Simplicity,
Fair Nature's genuine daughter, was there too,
So ſoft, yet ſo magnificent of mien,
She ſhone all ornament without a gem.
The blithſome Flora, ever ſweet and young,
Offer'd her various ſtore: We cull'd a few
To robe, and recommend our darkſome verdure,
But ſhun'd to be luxuriant.—
TIMOLUS.
It was well.
Agno, thy looks are penſive: What dejects
Thy pleaſure-painted aſpect? Sweeteſt nymph,
That ever trod the turf, or ſought the ſhade,
Speak, nor conceal a thought.
AGNO.
King of the woods,
I tremble for the royal arbiter.
'Tis hard to judge, whene'er the great contend,
Sure to diſpleaſe the vanquiſh'd: When ſuch pow'rs
Conteſt the laurel with ſuch ardent ſtrife,
'Tis not the ſentence of fair equity,
But 'tis their pleaſure that is right or wrong.
TIMOLUS.
[225]
'Tis well remark'd, and on experience founded.
I do remember that my ſiſter Ida
(Whenas on her own ſhadowy mount we met,
To celebrate the birth-day of the Spring,
And th' orgies of the May) wou'd oft recount
The rage of the indignant goddeſſes,
When ſhepherd Paris to the Cyprian queen,
With hand obſequious gave the golden toy.
Heav'n's queen, the ſiſter and the wife of Jove,
Rag'd like a feeble mortal; fall'n ſhe ſeem'd,
Her deity in human paſſions loſt:
Ev'n Wiſdom's goddeſs, jealous of her form,
Deem'd her own attribute her ſecond virtue.
Both vow'd and ſought revenge.
AGNO.
If ſuch the fate
Of him who judg'd aright, what muſt be his
Who ſhall miſtake the cauſe? for much I doubt
The ſkill of Midas, ſince his fatal wiſh:
Which Bacchus heard, and curs'd him with the gift.
Yet grant him wiſe, to err is human ſtill,
And mortal is the conſequence.
MELINOE.
Moſt true.
Beſides, I fear him partial; for with Pan
[226] He tends the ſheep-walks all the live-long day,
And on the braky lawn to the ſhrill pipe
In aukward gambols he affects to dance,
Or tumbles to the tabor—'tis not likely
That ſuch an umpire ſhou'd be equitable,
Unleſs he gueſs at juſtice.
TIMOLUS.
Soft—no more—
'Tis ours to wiſh for Pan, and fear from Phoebus,
Whoſe near approach I hear: Ye ſtately cedars
Forth from your ſummits bow your awful heads,
And reverence the gods. Let my whole mountain tremble,
Not with a fearful, but religious awe,
And holineſs of horror. You, ye winds,
That make ſoft, ſolemn muſic 'mongſt the leaves,
Be all to ſtillneſs huſh'd; and thou their echo
Liſten, and hold thy peace; for ſee they come.
SCENE opens, and diſcovers Apollo, attended by Clio and Melpomene, on the right hand of Midas, and Pan on the left, whom Timolus, with Agno and Melinoe, join.
MIDAS.
Begin, celeſtial candidates for praiſe,
Begin the tuneful conteſt: I, mean while,
[227] With heedful notice and attention meet,
Will weigh your merits, and decide your cauſe.
APOLLO.
From Jove begin the rapturous ſong,
To him our earlieſt lays belong,
We are his offspring all;
'Twas he, whoſe looks ſupremely bright,
Smil'd darkſome chaos into light,
And fram'd this glorious ball.
PAN.
Sylvanus, in his ſhadowy grove,
The ſeat of rural peace and love,
Attends my Doric lays;
By th' altar on the myrtle mount,
Where plays the wood-nymph's favourite fount,
I'll celebrate his praiſe.
CLIO.
Parnaſſus, where's thy boaſted height,
Where, Pegaſus, thy fire and flight,
Where all your thoughts ſo bold and free,
Ye daughters of Mnemoſyne?
If Pan o'er Phoebus can prevail,
And the great god of verſe ſhou'd fail?
AGNO.
From nature's works, and nature's laws,
We find delight, and ſeek applauſe;
[228] The prattling ſtreams and zephyrs bland,
And fragrant flow'rs by zephyrs fann'd,
The level lawns and buxom bow'rs,
Speak Nature and her works are ours.
MELPOMENE.
What were all your fragrant bow'rs,
Splendid days, and happy hours,
Spring's verdant robe, fair Flora's bluſh,
And all the poets of the buſh?
What the paintings of the grove,
Rural muſic, mirth and love?
Life and ev'ry joy wou'd pall,
If Phoebus ſhone not on you all.
MELINOE.
We chant to Phoebus, king of day,
The morning and the evening lay.
But Pan, each ſatyre, nymph and fawn,
Adore as laureat of the lawn;
From peeviſh March to joyous June
He keeps our reſtleſs ſouls in tune,
Without his oaten reed and ſong,
Phoebus, thy days wou'd ſeem too long.
APOLLO.
Am I not he, who preſcious from on high,
Sends a long look thro' all futurity?
Am I not he, to whom alone belong
The powers of Med'cine, Melody and Song?
[229] Diffuſely lib'ral, as divinely bright,
Eye of the univerſe and ſire of light.
PAN.
O'er cots and vales, and every ſhepherd ſwain,
Inpeaceable pre-eminence I reign;
With pipe on plain, and nymph in ſecret grove,
The day is muſic, and the night is love.
I bleſt with theſe, nor envy nor deſire
Thy gaudy chariot, or thy golden lyre.
CLIO.
Soon as the dawn diſpels the dark,
Illuſtrious Phoebus 'gins t' appear,
Proclaimed by the herald lark,
And ever-wakeful chanticleer,
The Perſian pays his morning vow,
And all the turban'd eaſterns bow.
AGNO.
Soon as the evening ſhades advance,
And the gilt glow-worn glitters fair,
For ruſtic gambol, gibe and dance,
Fawns, nymphs and dryads all prepare,
Pan ſhall his ſwains from toil relieve,
And rule the revels of the eve.
MELPOMENE.
In numbers as ſmooth as Callirhoe's ſtream,
Glide the ſilver-ton'd verſe when Apollo's the theme;
[230] While on his own mount Cypariſſus is ſeen,
And Daphne preſerves her immutable green.
We'll hail Hyperion with tranſport ſo long,
Th' inventor, the patron, and ſubject of ſong.
MELINOE.
While on the calm ocean the Halcyon ſhall breed,
And Syrinx ſhall ſigh with her muſical reed,
While fairies, and ſatyres, and fawns ſhall approve
The muſic, the mirth, and the life of the grove,
So long ſhall our Pan be than thee more divine,
For he ſhall be riſing when thou ſhalt decline.
MIDAS.
No more—To Pan and to his beauteous nymphs
I do adjudge the prize, as is moſt due.
Enter two Satyres, and crown MIDAS with a pair of aſs's ears
APOLLO.
Such rural honours all the gods decree,
To thoſe who ſing like Pan, and judge like thee.
[Exeunt Omnes.
FINIS.
Notes
†
‘Qui ſcribit artificioſe. ab aliis commode ſcripta facile intelligere poterit. CIC. ad Herenn. b. 4.’
†
‘Omnes tacito quodam ſenſu, ſine ullâ arte, aut ratione, quae fint in arti⯑bus ac rationibus recta ac prava dijudicant. Cic. de Orat. lib. 3.’
†
‘Nec enim artibus editis factum eſt ut argumenta inveniremus, ſed dicta ſunt omnia antequam preciperentur, mox ea ſcriptores obſervata & collecta ediderunt. QUINTIL.’
†
‘Cum canerem Reges & Praelia, Cynthius aurem vellit—VIRG. Ecl. 6.’
†
‘Neque tam ſancta ſunt iſta praecepta, ſed hoc quicquid eſt, utilitas exco⯑gitavit; non negabo autem ſic utile eſt plerumque; verum ſi eadem illa nobis aliud ſuadebit utilitas, hanc, relictis magiſtrorum autoritatibus, ſequemur. QUINT. lib. 2. cap. 13.’
†
‘Diligenter legendum eſt, ac pene ad ſcribendi ſollicitudinem; nec per partes modo ſcrutanda ſunt omnia; ſed perlectus liber utique ex integro refu⯑mendus. QUINTIL.’
†
‘Naturam intueamur, hanc ſequamur; id facillime accipiunt animi quod agnoſcunt. QUINTIL. lib. 8. cap. 3.’
*
‘Abolita et abrogata retinere, inſolentiae cujuſdam eſt, et frivolae in parvis jactantiae. QUINTIL. lib. 1. cap. 6.’ ‘Opus eſt ut verba a vetuſtate repetita neque creba ſint, neque manifeſta; quia nil eſt odioſus affectatione, nec utique ab ultimis repetita temporibus. Oratio, cujus ſumma virtus eſt perſpicuitas; quam ſit vitioſa, ſi egeat inter⯑prete? Ergo ut novorum optima erunt maxime vetera, ita veterum maxime nova. Ibidem.’
†
Ben Johnſon's Every Man in his humour.
*
Quis populi ſermo eſt? quis enim? niſi carmine molli
Nunc demum numero fluere ut per laeve ſeveros
Effugit junctura ungues; ſcit tendere verſum,
Nec ſecus ac ſi oculo rubricam dirigat uno. PERSIUS. Stat. 1.
†
‘Fugiemus crebras vocalium concurſiones, quae vaſtam atque hiantem orationem reddunt. Cic. ad Herenn. lib. 4.’
*
Alexander's feaſt, or the power of muſic; an ode by Mr. Dryden.
*
Dionyſius of Halicarnaſſus.
*
Hieronymus Vida, an excellent Latin poet, who writ an art of poetry in verſe. He flouriſh'd in the time of Leo the tenth.
*
Eſſay on poetry, by the duke of Buckingham.
†
Animalium ſcilicet.
*
Chriſtianae ſcilicet.
*
Siſter to Sir Philip Sydney.
†
‘— [...] HOM. E.’
†
Rura mihi, & rigui placeant in vallibus amnes,
Flumina amen, ſylvaſque in glorius! VIRG. GEORG. 2.
§
Commonly, but improperly call'd, the Wild.
*
Maidſtone.
†
Canterbury.
*
Boxley-Hill, which extends through great part of Kent.
*
Salve magna parens frugum, Saturnia tellus
Magna virûm; tibi res antiquae laudis & artis
Ingredior, ſanctos auſus recludere fontes,
Aſcraeumque cano Romana per oppida carmen. VIRG. GEORG. 2.
*
See the following ſtory told at large in Lambarde's perambulation of Kent.
*
Mr. John Philips, author of Cyder, a poem.
*
‘Miraturque novas frondes, & non ſua poma. VIRG.’
*
Aurora Borealis, or lights in the air; a phoenomenon which of late years has been very frequent here, and in all the more northern countries.
*
Mr. Theophilus Wheeler, of Chriſt-College, Cambridge.
*
The Author's youngeſt Siſter.
*
Numquam imprudentibus imber
Obfuit. Aut illum ſurgentem vallibus imis
Aëriae fugere grues: aut bucula coelum
Suſpiciens, patulis captavit naribus auras:
Aut arguta lacus circumvolitavit hirundo:
Et veterem in limo ranae cecinere querelam.
Saepius & tectis penetralibus extulit ova
Anguſtum formica terens iter, & bibit ingens
Arcus & e paſtu decedens agmine magno
Corvorum increpuit denſis exercitus alis.
Jam varias pelagi volucres, & quae Aſia circum
Dulcibus in ſtagnis rimantur prata Cayſtri,
Certatim largos humeris infundere rores;
Nunc caput objectare fretis, nunc currere in undas,
Et ſtudio incaſſum videas geſtire lavandi.
Tum cornix plena pluviam vocat improba voce,
Et ſola in ſicca ſecum ſpatiatur arena.
Nec nocturna quidem carpentes penſa puellae
Neſcivere hyemem. VIRG. Georg. 1.
*
Dr. Hales.
†
‘Myſtica Vannus Iacchi. VIRG. Geor. 1.’
*
Greenwich, where Q. Elizabeth was born.
†
The ſeat of the Duke of Dorſet.
*
The ſeat of Lord Vane.
*
Shakeſpear.
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Rechtsinhaber*in
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Zitationsvorschlag für dieses Objekt
TextGrid Repository (2016). TEI. 4103 Poems on several occasions By Christopher Smart. . University of Oxford, License: Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License [http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/]. https://hdl.handle.net/11378/0000-0005-D4D0-0