C There wanted one, who licenfe could restrain, To hold the fcales, and give the stamp of wit; Who grows not naufeous while he ftrives to please, Who knows, and teaches what our clime can bear, And makes the barren ground obey the labourer's care. Few could conceive, none the great work could 'Tis a fresh province, and referv'd for you. Wit, reading, judgment, converfation, art, No fame you wound, give no chafte cars offence, Hoift fail, bold writers, fearch, discover far, Tell all thofe untouch'd wonders which appear'd When Fate itself for our great Monarch fear'd: Securely through the dangerous forest led By guards of Angels, when his own were fled. Heaven kindly exercis'd his youth with cares, To crown with unmix'd joys his riper years. Make warlike James's peaceful virtues known, The fecond hope and genius of the throne. Heaven in compaion brought him on our stage, To tame the fury of a monitrous age. But what bleft voice fhall your Maria fing? Or a fit offering to her altars bring? In joys, in grief, in triumphs, in retreat, Great always, without aiming to be great. True Roman majefty adorns her face; And every gefture 's form'd by every Grace. Her beauties are too heavenly and refin'd For the grofs fenfes of a vulgar mind. t is your part (you Poets can divine) To prophefy how fhe by Heaven's defign hall give an heir to the great British line, Who over all the Western ifles fhall reign, Both awe the continent, and rule the main. is your place to wait upon her name hrough the vast regions of eternal fame. 3 True Poets fouls to Princes are ally'd, TO THE EARL OF ROSCOMMON; OCCASIONED BY HIS LORDSHIP'S ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE. From the Latin of Mr. Charles Dryden. BY MR. NEEDLER. Tnd laurel wreaths her peaceful temples HAT happy Britain boasts her tuneful race, grace, The honour and the praife is juftly due For, led by thee, an endless train shall rife Thy works too, fovereign Bardt! if right I fee, They fhall tranflate with equal majesty; While with new joy thy happy fhade fhall rove Through the bleft mazes of th' Elysian grove, And, wondering, in Britannia's rougher tongue To find thy heroes and thy fhepherds fung,' Shall break forth in thefe words: 66 name, Thy favour'd Great heir and guardian of the Mantuan fame! *See Mifcellany Poems, 1780, vol. III. p. 173. + Virgil, H. N. Nor with thefe words my happy spirit grieve: Ye dragons, whose contagious breath Peoples the dark retreats of death, Change your fierce hiffing into joyful fong, And praise your Maker with your forked tongue. Praise him, ye monsters of the deep, That in the feas vaft bofoms fleep; At whole command the foaming billows roar, Yet know their limits, tremble and adore. Ye mifts and vapours, hail and fnow, And you who through the concave blow, Swift executors of his holy word, Whirlwinds and tempefts, praife th' Almighty Lord. Mountains, who to your Maker's view Praise him fweet offspring of the ground, Idle musicians of the spring, Praise your Creator with the sweetest note, Praise him each favage furious beast, Majestic monarchs, mortal gods, Let the wide world his praifes fing, Where Tagus and Euphrates fpring, And from the Danube's frosty banks, to thofe Where from an unknown head great Nilus flows You that difpofe of all our lives, Praise him from whom your power derives; Be true and just like him, and fear his word, As much as malefactors do your fword. Praife him, old monuments of time; O praise him in your youthful prime; Praise him, fair idols of our greedy sense; Exalt his name, fweet age of innocence. Jehovah's name fhall only laft, When heaven, and earth, and all is past : Nothing, great God, is to be found in thee, But unconceivable eternity. Exalt, O Jacob's facred race, The God of gods, the God of grace; "Cape dona extrema tuorum;" the motto to Who will above the ftars your empire raife, Lord Rofcommon's Effay. H. N. And with his glory recompenfe your praise. A PROLOGUE, SPOKEN TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE DUKE OF YORK, AT EDINBURGH. OLLY and vice are easy to defcribe, FOLL The common fubjects of our scribbling tribe; But when true virtues, with unclouded light, All great, all royal, fhine divinely bright, Our eyes are dazzled, and our voice is weak; Let England, Flanders, let all Europe speak, Let France acknowledge that her fhaken throne Was once fupported, Sir, by you alone; Banifh'd from thence for an ufurper's fake, Yet trusted then with her last desperate stake: When wealthy neighbours ftrove with us for power, Let the fea tell, how in their fatal hour, Swift as an eagle, our victorious prince, Great Britain's genius, flew to her defence; Confirm'd our empire o'er the conquer'd flood. SON G. ON A YOUNG LADY WHO SUNG FINELY, AND WAS AFRAID OF A COLD. WINTill fatal tempefts fwell the fea. INTER, thy cruelty extend, in vain let finking pilots pray; Beneath thy yoke let Nature bend, Yet we unmov'd will fit and fmile, May that celeftial found each day With extafy transport our fouls, Whilst all our paffions it controuls, And kindly drives our cares away; Let no ungentle cold deftroy, All tafte we have of heavenly joy! VOL. U. VIRGIL'S SIXTH ECLOGUE, SIL EN U S. THE ARGUMENT. Two young foepherds, Chromis and Mnafylus, baving been often promifed a fong by Silenus, chance to catch bim afleep in this Eclogue; where they bind him band and foot, and then claim bis promise. Silenus, finding they would be put off no longer, begins bis fong, in which be deferibes the formation of the universe, and the original of animals, according to the Epicurean philofophy; and then runs through the moft furprifing transformations which have happened in Nature fince ber birth. This Ealogue was defigned as a compliment to Syro the Epicurean, who inftructed Virgil and Varus in the principles of that philofophy. Silenus acts as tutor, Chromis and Mnafylus as the two pupils. I First of Romans ftoop'd to rural strains, Nor blush'd to dwell among Sicilian swains, When my Thalia rais'd her bolder voice, And kings and battles were her lofty choice, Phoebus did kindly humbler thoughts infufe, And with this whisper check th' afpiring Muse A fhepherd, Tityrus, his flocks fhould feed, And choose a subject fuited to his reed. Thus I (while each ambitious pen prepares To write thy praises, Varus, and thy wars) My paftoral tribute in low numbers pay, And though I once prefum'd, I only now obey. But yet (if any with indulgent eyes Can look on this, and fuch a trifle prize) Thee only, Varus, our glad fwains fhall fing, And every grove and every echo ring. Phoebus delights in Varus' favourite name, And none who under that protection came Was ever ill receiv'd, or unfecure of fame. Proceed my Muse. } Young Chromis, and Mnafylus chanc'd to stray With that he rais'd his tuneful voice aloud, The knotty oaks their listening branches bow'd, And favage beafts and Sylvan Gods did crowd; For lo! he fung the world's ftupendous birth, How fcatter'd feeds of fea, and air, and earth, 4 [E] And purer fire, through univerfal night By what degrees this earth's compacted sphere Then Pyrrha's ftony race rofe from the ground, Old Saturn reign'd with golden plenty crown'd, And bold Prometheus (whofe untam'd defire Rival'd the fun with his own heavenly fire) Now doom'd the Scythian vulture's endless prey, Severely pays for animating clay. He nam'd the nymph (for who but Gods could tell?) Into whofe arms the lovely Hylas fell; Alcides wept in vain for Hylas loft, Hylas in vain refounds through all the coaft. Ah! wretched queen! whence came that guilty thought? The maids of Argos, who with frantic cries (Though metamorphos'd in their wild conceit) Ah! wretched queen! while you on mountains ftray, He on foft flowers his fnowy fide does lay; Perhaps fome footsteps printed in the clay, And as he rais'd his verfe, the poplars feem'd to rife. He taught which Mufe did by Apollo's will Guide wandering Gallus to th' Aonian hill: (Which place the God for folemn meetings chofe) With deep respect the learned fenate rofe, And Linus thus (deputed by the rest) The hero's welcome, and their thanks, exprefs'd: This harp of old to Hefiod did belong, To this, the Mufes' gift, join thy harmonious fong: Charm'd by thefe ftrings, trees ftarting from the ground, Have follow'd with delight the powerful found. Why should I speak of the Megarian maid, For love perfidious, and by love betray'd? And her, who round with barking monsters arm The wandering Greeks (ah frighted men alarm'd; Whofe only hope on fhatter'd ships depends, her own? Whatever near Eurota's happy ftream With laurels crown'd, had been Apollo's theme, Silenus fings; the neighbouring rocks reply, And fend his myftic numbers through the ky; Till night began to spread her gloomy veil, And call'd the counted fheep from every dale; The weaker light unwillingly declin'd, And to prevailing fhades the murmuring refign'd, O D E UPON SOLITUDE. I. [AIL, facred Solitude! from this calm bay, Hview the world's tempeftuous fea, And with wife pride despise On rocks of hopes and fears, I fee them tofs'd Unhappy men or adverse Fate, Sunk deep into the gulphs of an afflicted state. But more, far more, a numberlefs prodigious tra Whilft Virtue courts them, but alas in vain, Fly from her kind embracing arms, Deaf to her fondeft call, blind to her greate charms, And, funk in pleasures and in brutish ease, They in their fhipwreck'd state themselves obdurat please. II. Hail, facred Solitude! foul of my foul, It is by thee I truly live, Thou doft a better life and nobler vigour give; Doft each unruly appetite controul: Thy conftant quiet fills my peaceful breaft, With unmix'd joy, uninterrupted reft. Prefuming love does ne'er invade This private folitary shade: And, with fantastic wounds by beauty made, The joy has no allay of jealoufy, hope, and fear, The folid comforts of this happy fphere: Yet I exalted Love admire, Friendship, abhorring fordid gain, And purify'd from Luft's difhoneft ftain: Nor is it for my folitude unfit, For I am with my friend alone, As if we were but one; 'Tis the polluted love that multiplies, But friendship does two fouls in one comprise. III. Here in a full and conftant tide doth flow All bleflings man can hope to know; Here in a deep recefs of thought we find Pleafures which entertain, and which exalt the mind; Pleasures which do from friendship and from knowledge rife, Which make us happy, as they make us wise : And, ftopping for a while ray breath, THE TWENTY-SECOND ODE OF THE FIRST BOOK OF HORACE. VIRTUE, dear friend, needs no defence, Through Libyan fands and Scythian fnows, For as (by amorous thoughts betray'd) Set me in the remoteft place, H happy grove! dark and fecure retreat A of deered filence, reft's eternal feat; How well your cool and unfrequented shade 4 [E] 2 ⚫ Mrs. Catharine Philips. |