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Miscellaneous P O EM S, &c.

By Mr. WYCHERLEY

Publish'd from

More Correct Copies.

An EPISTLE to Mr. DRYDEN, from the Copy

Corrected in the Year 1706.

N.B. The Variations of the Copy since printed, are to

be found in the bottom of the Page.

1

S when great Kings with petty Princes joyn,

They more their Conquest than their Aid design;
Thus, while to write with me you condescend,
'Tis more to vanquish, than assist your

Friend.
Then not by writing will I strive in vain
More Sense to prove, or greater Praise to gain;
But shew my Sense by giving yours its Due,
And only seek for Praise by praising you.
2 Whose Wit, like Heav'n from whence it sprung, repays
To us in Glory what we give in Praise.

1 In Mr. Theobald's Edition it is thus :
As when great Kings with petty Princes joyn,
And club their Forces in the same Design,
They more a Conquest than an Aid intend ;

Thus while, &c.
2 Since all who strive for Fame, or Glory, must

Be just to You to be themselves thought just.
Their Judgment thus, tho' not their Wit, may shew,
And gain Forgiveness of their Errors so.
Thus I my Fame acquire, tho' not my

Due,
By yielding Honour to your Muse, and You.

Your clear, unerring, universal Sense,
Cheers like the Sun with gen’ral Influence:
New Wonders still profusely does display,
And drives the Darkness of the Mind away.
But your enlight'ning comprehensive Mind
1 Not to a single Sphere can be confin’d:
In Comic, Tragic, or Heroic Strain,
You your vast Genius can alike maintain;
Their diff'rent Talents other Wits pursue,
But All submit in their own Kind to You
Whether you mourn, make love, applaud, or blame,
You still can charm us, and are still the same.
With the same Art, in Joy or Grief engage
Your passive Audience, and your active Stage,
With your feign'd Love, and true poetic Rage.

}

Others, in Spight of all their noisy Wit,
Find the Stage silenc'd by the louder Pit;
They make us laugh to see their Actors cry,
In some fad Farce, or merry Tragedy.
But never you our Passion, or our Sense,
With Art against our Nature influence:
You make us Silence ev'n in Laughter keep,
And ev'n divert us, while you cause to weep.
Your moving Scenes, at once, with various Art,
· Harden the soft, and melt the hardest Heart:
With Love give Grief, with Horror can delight
And please the Mind, yet terrify the ght.

But when the vulgar Vice employs your Pen,
How we despise our felves in other Men!
At once we grow more merry, yet more wise,
Pleas'd and instructed with your Comedies.
You can our Follies without Fooling show,
And prove your Skill, by making others grow
Ridiculous, without becoming so:
Your Sense, your Humour, and satyrick Rage,
At once can teach, delight, and lash the Age.

}

1 Hence the just Fame of your great Genius is

As general, as are its Faculties. : In Mr. Theobald's Edition, Harden the soft, and soften th' hardest Heart.

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