This was the generous poet's scope;
And all an English pen can hope;
To make the Fair approve his flame,
That can fo far extend their fame.
Verfe, thus defign'd, has no ill fate,
If it arrive but at the date
Of fading beauty; if it prove
But as long-liv'd as prefent love.
Upon the Earl of ROSCOMMON'S TRANSLATION of
And of the Ufe of Poetry.
OME was not better by her Horace taught,
Than we are here to comprehend his thought:
The Poet writ to noble Pifo there;
A noble Pifo does inftruct us here:
Gives us a pattern in his flowing stile;
And with rich precepts does oblige our ifle:
Britain! whofe genius is in verfe exprefs'd;
Bold and fublime, but negligently drefs'd.
Horace will our fuperfluous branches prune,
Give us new rules, and fet our harp in tune;
Direct us how to back the winged horse,
Favour his flight, and moderate his force.
Though Poets may of infpiration boast,
Their rage, ill govern'd, in the clouds is loft.
He that proportion'd wonders can difclofe,
At once his fancy and his judgment shows.
Chafte moral writing we may learn from hence;
Neglect of which no wit can récompence.
The fountain which from Helicon proceeds,
That facred ftream! fhould never water weeds;
Nor make the crop of thorns and thistles grow,
Which envy or perverted nature sow.
Well-founding verfes are the charm we use,
Heroic thoughts and virtue to infuse:
Things of deep sense we may in prose unfold;
But they move more in lofty numbers told:
By the loud trumpet, which our courage aids,
We learn that found, as well as fenfe, perfuades.
The Mufe's friend, unto himself fevere,
With filent pity looks on all that err:
But where a brave, a public action fhines,
That he rewards with his immortal lines.
Whether it be in council or in fight,
His country's honour is his chief delight:
Praise of great acts he scatters as a feed,
Which may the like in coming ages breed.
Here taught the fate of verfes (always priz'd
With admiration, or as much defpis'd)
Men will be lefs indulgent to their faults;
And patience have to cultivate their thoughts.
Poets lofe half the praffe they fhould have got,
Could it be known what they discreetly blot:
Finding new words, that to the ravish'd ear
May like the language of the Gods appear:
Such as, of old, wife bards employ'd, to make
Unpolish'd men their wild retreats forfake:
Law-giving Heroes, fam'd for taming brutes,
And raising cities with their charming lutes.
For rudeft minds with harmony were caught,
And civil life was by the Muses taught.
So, wandering bees would perish in the air,
Did not a found, proportion'd to their ear,
Appeafe their rage, invite them to the hive,
Unite their force, and teach. them how to thrive:
To rob the flowers, and to forbear the spoil;
Preserv'd in winter by their fummer's toil:
They give us food, which may with nectar vie,
And wax, that does the absent sun supply.
AD COMITEM MONUMETENSEM De BENTIVOGLIO fuo.
LORIBUS Angligenis non hanc tibi necto corollam,
Cùm fatis indigenis te probet ipse liber:
Per me Roma fciet tibi fe debere, quòd Anglo
Romanus didicit cultiùs ore loqui.
Ultima quæ tellus Aquilas duce Cæfare vidit..
Candida Romulidum te duce fcripta videt.
Confilio ut quondam Patriam nil juveris efto!
Sed ftudio cives ingenioque juvas.
Namque dolis liber hic inftructus, & arte Batava,
A Belga nobis ut caveamus, ait.
Horremus per te civilis dira furoris
Vulnera; difcordes Flandria quaffa monet.
Hic difcat miles pugnare, orare fenator;
Qui regnant, leni fceptra tenere manu.
Macte, Comes! virtute novâ; vestri ordinis ingens
Ornamentum, ævi deliciæque tui!
Dum ftertunt alii fomno vinoque fepulti,
Nobilis antiquo ftemmate digna facis.
TO MR. KILLEGREW,
Upon his altering his Play PANDORA, from a Tragedy into a Comedy, because not approved on the Stage.
IR, you should rather teach our age
Of judging well, than thus have chang'd your Play:
You had oblig'd us by employing wit,
Not to reform Pandora, but the Pit,
For, as the nightingale, without the throng
Of other birds, alone attends her fong;
While the loud daw, his throat difplaying, draws
The whole assembly of his fellow daws:
So must the writer, whofe productions should
Take with the vulgar, be of vulgar mould:
Whilft nobler fancies make a flight too high
For common view, and leffen as they fly.
On the Duke of MONMOUTH's Expedition into SCOTLAND, in the Summer Solstice.
WIFT as Jove's messenger (* the winged god)
With fword as potent as his charming rod,
He flew to execute the King's command:
And, in a moment, reach'd that northern land;
Where day, contending with approaching night,
Affifts the Hero with continued light.
On foes furpriz'd, and by no night conceal'd,
He might have rush'd; but noble pity held
His hand a while, and to their choice gave space,
Which they would prove, his valour or his grace.
This not well heard, his cannon louder spoke,
And then, like lightning, through that cloud he
His fame, his conduct, and that martial look,
The guilty Scots with such a terror strook;
That to his courage they resign the field,
Who to his bounty had refus'd to yield.
Glad that fo little loyal blood it cost,
He grieves fo many Britons should be lost:
Taking more pains, when he beheld them yield,
To fave the flyers, than to win the field:
And at the Court his interest does employ
That none, who 'scap'd his fatal sword, fhould die.
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