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Religion too would quit celestial bowers,
In this fair spot to gather earthly flowers.
But envious thorns, that none its worth might see,
Sprang from the ground to hide this beauteous tree;
Haste then, oh stranger, to this place draw nigh,
To kill the brambles, lest the laurel die!"
Straight, as he spoke, methought an axe I seized;
(For Fancy smiled, and with the work was pleased;)
Already the rude wilderness was clear'd,
And the green laurel full in view appear'd;
When his dark wings retiring Morpheus spread,
And the loved vision with my slumbers fled.
Oft since that hour I've linger'd o'er thy page,
Oh youth lamented at too green an age!
And if the muse, propitious, hear my strains,
Assist the labour, or reward the pains,

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That laurel, Persius, which once bloom'd for thee, Again shall flourish, and revive for me.

SATIRES OF PERSIUS.

THE DESIGN OF THE PROLOGUE.

THE design and intention of the poet was to conceal his name and quality. He lived in the dangerous times of Nero, and aims at him in most of his satires. He censures the impu dence of those who pretended to have been born poets, especially the nobles.

The arguments or designs of the six following satires are contained in this old verse :

"Of poets, wishes, idleness, and health,

The statesman, freedom, avarice and wealth."

PROLOGUE.

NE'ER did I taste Castalia's stream;
Nor yet on fork'd Parnassus dream.
That I should feel a poet's fire,
Or string the lute, or strike the lyre,
I leave the muse's magic ground
To bards profess'd, with laurel crown'd,
The gift I offer to the Nine,

A rustic wreath, to grace their shrine.
What taught the parrot to cry, Hail?
What taught the chattering pie his tale?
Hunger; that sharpener of the wits,
Which gives ev'n fools some thinking fits.
Did rooks and pies but know the pleasure
Of heaping high a golden treasure;
And would their music money bring,
Ev'n rooks and pies would shortly sing

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SATIRE I.

ARGUMENT.

THE intention of the poet in this satire is to rail against pretended poets and bad orators; he covertly strikes at Nero, and takes notice of the foolish poems of the nobles, of which he gives us a specimen: this satire is chiefly a dialogue between the poet and his friend, who tries to dissuade him from the bold attempt of exposing great men: the reader must observe the poet was an admirer of the stoic philosophers; many of his sentences are dogmas of that sect: the dangerous time in which these satires were written (in the beginning of Nero's reign) will sufficiently apologize for the affected obscurity of them: in many passages a manifest equivocation was intended.

PERSIUS AND MONITOR.

P. UNHAPPY men lead lives of care and pain,
Their joys how fleeting, and their hopes how vain!
M. But who will read a satire so begun ?

P. What! this to me?-this? M. Faith, I'll tell you, none.

P. None, do you say? M. Why, yes, perhaps a few,

But still the number will dishonour you.

P. Lest a vile prince and his abandon'd throng
Bestow the laurel on a minion's song;

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3 The author may be supposed to have commenced a satire on the idle vanities of the world, when his friend interrupts him, by asking him who would read so grave a piece of morality. Casaubon has had the dexterity to find out that Persius meant to be facetious in this line. "He hath omitted none of those things," says the commentator. But it seems he not only sneered, but conveyed in these few words much recondite wisdom.

And must we then reserve the sacred bays
For those whom Rome's worst profligates shall
praise?

Rely not always on the general voice;
Nor place all merit in the people's choice;

Let your own eyes be those with which you see;
Nor seek in others what yourself should be.
For who at Rome does not? Dare I speak plain?
I dare-1 must; to check my rage were vain.
My spleen o'erflows, I sicken to behold
A guilty world, in error growing old;
Each stage of life mark'd by its empty joys,
The infant and the man exchanging toys;
Triumphant vice and folly bearing sway,
With doting age and vanity grown gray.
M. But imitate the rest. See, they compose,
In secret, polish'd verse and sounding prose.
P. Until, at length, demanded by the crowd,
The turgid nonsense be rehearsed aloud;
See at the desk the pale declaimer stand,
The ruby beaming on his lily hand;
Behind his back his wanton tresses flow;
With Tyrian dies his splendid garments glow;
His pliant throat the liquid gargle clears;
His languid eye lasciviously leers;

The voice accords with the luxurious mien,
The look immodest, with the tongue obscene:
Around him close the splendid circle draws,
Loud is the laugh, tumultuous the applause;
And Rome's first nobles, vanquish'd by his lyre,
Tremble with lusts which his vile lays inspire.
And you, old dotard, do you waste your days,
That fools at length, may surfeit you with praise?

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26 Longinus remarks the difficulty of guarding against the bombast in writing; and observes that authors are naturally led to seek what is grand; but in avoiding dryness and feebleness, they become turgid, and vainly console themselves with the reflection, that they err, it is in attempting what is great and noble.