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There wanted one, who license could restrain, True Poets souls to Princes are ally'd,
Heaven trusts the present time to Monarch's care, 'To hold the scales, and give the stamp of wic; Eternity is the good Writer's Thare.* in whom ripe judgment and young fancy meet; And sorce poetic rage to be discreet; Who grows not nauseous while he strives to please, But marks the shelves in the poetic feas. Who knows, and teaches what our clime can
bear, And makes the barren ground obey the labourer's EARL OF ROSCOMMON; Few could conceive, none the great work could OCCASIONED BY HIS LORD SHIP'S ESSAY ON
do, 'Tis a fresh province, and reserv'd for you. Those talents all are yours, of which but one
From the Latin of Mr. Charles Dryden.
BY MR. NEEDLER.
"HAT happy Britain boasts her tunelul racc, Created to moleft the world, and die. Your file docs polish what your fancy cast;
By the explain’d, had taught the listening age;
No more content great Maro's steps to trace, No fame you wound, give no chaste cars offence, New paths we search, and tread unbeaten' ways. Still true to friendship, modesty, and fense. Ye Britons, then, triumphantly rejoice ; So Saints, from Heaven for our example sent,
And with loud peals, and ne consenting voice, Live to their rules, have nothing to repent. Applaud the man who does unrival'd lit, Horace, if living, hy exchange of fate,
“ The sovereign-judge and arbiter of wit !" Would give no laws, but only yours translate. For, led by thee, an endless train thall rise
Hoist fail, bold writers, search, discover fur, Of Poets, who shall climb superior skies; You have a compass for a Polar-star.
Heroes and Gods in worthy verse shall fing, Tune Orpheus' harp, and with enchanting rhymes And tune to Homer's lay the lofty string. Soften the favage humour of the times.
Thy works too, sovereign Bardt! if right I see, Tell all those untouch'd wonders which appear'd
They shall translate with equal majesty; When Fate itself for our great Monarch fear'di While with new joy thy happy shade shall rove Securely through the dangerous forest led
Through the blett mazes of th’ Elysian grove, By guards of Angels, when his own were fled. And, wondering, in Britannia's rougher tongue Heaven kindly exercis'd his youth with cares,
To find thy heroes and thy shepherds sung,' To crown with unmix'd joys his riper years.
Shall break forth in these words : “ Thy favour'a Make warlike James's peaceful virtues known,
name, The second hope and genius of the throne. Great heir and guardian of the Mantuan fame! Heaven in compaginn brought him on our stage, How shall my willing gratitude pursue Po tanie the fury of a monitrous age.
With praises large as to thy worth are due ? But what blest voice shall your Maria sing? Though tasteless Bards, by Nature never caught, Or a fit offering to her altars bring ?
In wretched rhymes disguise my genuine thought; in joys, in grief, in triumphs, in retreat, Though Homer now the wars of godlike Kings Great always, without aiming to be great. in Ovid's soft enervate numbers sings : True Roman najelty adorns her face;
Tuneful Silenus, and the matchless verse And every gesture 's form'd by every Grace. That does the birth of infant worlds rehearse, Her beauties are too heavenly and refin'd Atones for all, by that my rescued fame For the gross senses of a vulgar mind.
Shall vie in age with Nature's deathless frame; It is your part (you Pocts can divine) ? By thee the learned song hall nobly live, To prophesy how she by Heaven's design
And praise from every British tongue receive. Shall give an heir to the great British line,
Give to thy daring genins then the rein,
And freely launch into a bolder Itrain;
* See Miscellany Poems, 1780, vol. III. p. 173.
+ Virgil. H. N.
Nor with thefe words my happy spirit grieve : Ye dragons, whose contagious breath • The last good office of thy friend receive.' Peoples the dark retreats of death,
On the firm base of thy immortal lays, Change your fierce hiffing into joyful song, A nobler pile to thy lov'd Maro raise ;
And praise your Maker with your forked tonga My glory by thy skill shall brighter shine, With native charms and energy divine !
Praise him, ye monsters of the deep, Britain with just applause the work shall read, That in the seas valt bofoms fleep; And crown with fadeless bays thy sacred head. At whose command the foaming billows roar, Nor shall thy Muse the graver's pencil need, Yet know their limits, tremble and adore. To draw the hero on his prancing steed; Thy living verfe shall paint th' imbattled hoft Ye mists and vapours, hail and snow, In bolder figures than his art can boaft.
And you who through the concave blow,
Seem less than mole-hills do to you,
Praise him sweet offspring of the ground,
With heavenly nectar yearly crown'd;
That in his temple facred altars raise,
Idle musicians of the spring,
Whose only care's to love and sing,
Fly through the world, and let your trembling
throat Break your long filence, and let mortals know Praise your Creator with the sweetest note. With what contempt you look on things below.
Praise him each savage furious teaft, Wing'd squadrons of the god of war,
That on his flores do daily fcast : Who conquer wherefoc'er you are,
And you tame slaves of the laborioos plos, Let echoing anthems make his praises known Your weary knees to your Creator bow. On earth his footstool, as in heaven his throne,
Majestic monarchs, mortal gods, Great eye of all, whose glorious ray
Whose power hath here no periods, Rules the bright empire of the day,
May all attempts against your crowns be vair! O praise his name, without whose purer light But still remember by whose power you reign. Thou hadît been hid in an abyss of night.
Let the wide world his praises fing, Ye moon and planets, who dispense,
Where Tagus and Euphrates fpring, By God's command, your influence ;
And from the Danube's frosty banks, to those Resign to him, as your Creator due,
Where from an unknown head great Nilas flows That veneration which men pay to you.
You that dispose of all our lives, Fairest, as well as first, of things,
Praise him from whom your power derires; From whom all joy, all beauty springs;
Be true and just like him, and fear his word, O praise th' Almighty Ruler of the globe, As much as malefactors do your sword. Who useth thee for his empyreal robe.
Praise him, old monuments of time; Praise him ye loud harmonious fpheres,
O praise him in your youthful prime; Whose sacred stamp all nature bears,
Praise him, fair idols of our greedy sense; Who did all forms from the rude chaos draw, Exalt his name, sweet age of innocence. And whose command is th' universal law :
Jehovah's name fhall only last, Ye watery mountains of the sky,
When heaven, and earth, and all is palt: And you so far above our eye,
Nothing, great God, is to be fouad in thee, Vast ever-moving orbs, exalt his name,
But unconceivable eternity. Who gave its being to your glorious frame.
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 stars your empire raike, Lord Roscommon's Efay. H. N.
And with his glory recompense your praisc.
VIRGIL's SIXTH ECLOGUE,
SI LE NU S.
L E N
HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE DUKE OF
TOLLY and vice are casy to describe,
THE ARGUMENT. Two young foepberds, Chromis and Mnafylus, baving
been often promised a song by Silenus, chance to catch bim asleep in this Eclogue; ubere they bind bim band and fout, and then claim bis promise. Silenus, findo ing they would be put off no longer, begins bis song, in which be describes tbe formation of the universe, and the original of animals, according to the Epicurean pbilosopby; and oben runs through the most fura prising transformations which have bappened in Nature fince ber birth. This Eelogue was designed as a compliment to Syro tbe Epicurean, who instructed Virgil and Varus in tbe principles of that philofopby. Silenus acts as tutor, Cbronis and Mnafylus as the two pupils.
But when true virtues, with unclouded light,
O happy islands, if you knew your bliss !
S O N G.
ON A YOUNG LADY WHO SUNG FINELY, AND
WAS AFRAID OF A COLD.
Nor bluth'd to dwell among Sicilian swains,
But yet (if any with indulgent eyes
Proceed my Muse.
With that he rais'd his tuneful voice aloud, The knotty oaks their listening branches bow'd, And savage beasts and Sylvan Gods did crowd;
For lo! he sung the world's stupendous birth, How scatter'd feeds of fea, and air, and carth,
'Till fatal tempelts swell the sea. n vain let sinking pilots pray;
Bencath thy yoke let Nature bend, et picrcing froit, and lasting snow, Ehrough woods and fields destruction fow!
Yet we unmov'd will fit and smile,
And thou, blest Genius of our ille, rom Winter's rage defend her voice, At which the listening Gods rejoice.
May that celestial sound each day Vith extasy transport our souls, Whilft all our passions it controuls,
And kindly drives our cares away; ct no ungentle cold destroy, Il taste we have of heavenly joy!
And purer fire, through universal night
Why should I speak of the Megarian maid, And empty space, did fruitfully unite;
For love perfidious, and by love betray'd? From whence th' innumerable race of things, And her, who round with barking monfters arm's, By circular successive order springs.
The wandering Greeks (ah frighted men!) By what degrees this earth's compacted sphere
alarm'd; Was harden'd, woods and rocks and towns to bear; Whose only hope on shatter'd ships depends
, How sinking waters (the firm land to drain) While fierce sea-dogs devour the mangled friendi
. Fill'd the capacious deep, and form’d the main, Or tell the Thracian tyrant's alter'u shape, While from above, adorn'd with radiant light, And dire revenge of Philomela's rape, A new-born sun surpris d the dazzled light; Who to those woods directs her mournful coarse, How vapours turn'd to clouds obfcure the sky, Where she had suffer'd by incestuous force, And clouds disfoly'd the thirsty ground supply; While, loth to leave the palace too well known, How the first forest rais'd its shady head,
Progré flies, hovering round, and thinks it fü Till when, few wandering beats on unknown her own? mountains fed.
Whatever near Eurora's happy stream Then Pyrrha’s stony race rose from the ground, With laurels crown’d, had been Apollo's theme, Old Saturn reign'd with golden plenty crown'd, Silenus fings; the neighbouring rocks reply, And bold Pronretheus (whose untam'd desire And send his mystic numbers through the ky; Rival'd the fun with his own heavenly fire) Till night began to spread her gloomy veil, Now doom’d the Scythian vulture's endless prey, And call'd the counted fheep from every dale; Severely pays for animating clay.
The weaker light unwillingly declin'd, He nam'd the nymph (for who but Guds could And to prevailing shades the murmuring tim tell?)
He with conipafion told Pasiphaë's fault,
S O L I TU DE. Ah! wretched qucen! while you on mountains stray,
1. He on soft flowers his snowy side does lay ;
CAIL, sacred Solitude! from this calm bay, Or feeks in herds a more proportion'd love : Surround, my nymphs, the cries, surround the
And with wife pride despise grove;
All those senseless vanities : Perhaps some footsteps printed in the clay,
With pity mov'd for others, caft away Will to my love direct your wandering way;
On rocks of hopes and fears, I see them toss'd Perhaps, while thus in search of him I roam,
On rocks of folly, and of vice, I see them lot: My happier rivals have cntic'd him home,
Some the prevailing malice of the great, Ho sung how Atalanta was betray'd By those Hesperian baits her lover laid,
Unhappy men or adverse Fate, And the fad filters who to trees were turn'd,
Sunk deep into the gulphs of an afflicted state. While with the world th' ambitious brother burn’d. Whilft Virtue courts them, but alas in raia,
But more, far more, a numberless prodigious item All he describ'd was present to their eyes,
Fly from her kind embracing arms, And as he rais'd his verse, the poplars seem'd to
Deaf to her fondeft call, blind to her gilim rile.
charms, He taught which Mufe did by Apollo's will
And, funk in pleasures and in brutish ease, Guide wandering Gallus to th' Aonian hill :
They in their shipwreck'd itate themselves obde? (Which place the God for folema meetings chose)
please. With deep respect the learned fenate rose, And Linus thus (deputed by the rest)
II. The hero's welcome, and their thanks, preh'd :
Hail, facred Solitude! foul of foul,
my 'This harp of old to Hefiod did belong,
It is by thee I truly live, To this, the Muses' gist, join thy harmonious Thou dost a better life and nobler vigour give; fong :
Doft each unruly appetite controul : Charm'd by these strings, trees starting from the Thy constant quiet fills my peaceful breat, ground,
With unmix'd joy, uninterrupted reft. Have follow'd with delight the powerful sound.
Presuming love does ne'er invade Thus consecrated, thy Grynean grove
This private solitary Thade : Shall have no equal in Apollo's love.
And, with fantastic wounds by beauty made,
The joy has no allay of jealousy, hope, and fear,
THE SAME IMITATED.
TIRTUE (dear friend) needs no defcnce, And purify'd from Lust's dishoncft itain :
No arms, but its own innocence :
Quivers and bows, and poison's darts,
Are only us'd by guilty hearts,
May travel through the burning zone;
Or through the deepest Scythian snows,
Or where the fam'd Hydalpes flows.
* Orinda I admire,
Unarm’d and single, run away.
Set me in the remoteft place
That ever Neptune did embrace;
When there her image fiils my breast,
Helicon is not half so bleft.
The magic of Orinda's name,
But, if that mighty word I once rehearse,
They fera fubmislively to roar in verse.
PART OF THE FIETI SCENE OF THE SECOND
GUARINI'S PASTOR FIDO,
TIRTUE, dear friend, needs no defence,
The sureft guard is innocence :
Integrity undaunted goes
For as (by amoroas thoughts betray'd)
No bealt of more portentous lize
Set me in the remotest place,
Set me where on some pathless plain
The burning zone, the frozen illes,
H happy grove! dark and secure retreat
Of facred silence, rest's eternal feat;
• Mrs. Catharine Philips.
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