And thus to th' ages past he makes amends, Their charity deftroys, their faith defends. Then did religion in a lazy cell, In empty airy contemplations dwell; And, like the block, unmoved lay but ours, As much too active, like the ftork devours. Is there no temperate region can be known Betwixt their frigid and our torrid zone? Could we not wake from that lethargic dream, But to be refile's in a worse extreme? And for that lethargy was there no cure, But to be caft into a calenture? Can knowledge have no bound,but muft advance So far, to make us with for ignorance; And rather in the dark to grope our way, Than led by a falfe guide to err by day? Who fees these dismal heaps, but would demand What barbarous invader fack'd the land? But when he hears, no Goth, no Turk did bring This defolation, but a Chriftian king; When nothing but the name of zeal appears "Twixt our belt actions and the worst of theirs; What does he think our facrilege would fpare, When fuch th' effects of our devotions are? Parting from thence 'twixt anger, fhame,and fear, Those for what's past,and this forwhat's toonear, My eye, defcending from the hill, furveys Where Thames among the wanton valleys ftrays. Thames, the most lov'd of all the Ocean's fons By his old fire, to his embraces runs ; Hafting to pay his tribute to the fea, Like mortal life to meet eternity. Tho' with thofe ftreams he no refemblance hold, Whofe foam is amber, and their gravel gold, His genuine and lefs guilty wealth t' explore, Search not his bottom, but furvey his thore, O'er which he kindly spreads his fpacions wing, And hatches plenty for the enfuing spring; Nor then destroys it with too fond a stay, Like mothers who their infants overlay, Nor with a fudden and impetuous wave, Like profufe kings, refumes the wealth he gave. No unexpected inundations fpoil The mower's hopes,or mock the plowman's toil: But godlike his unwearied bounty flows; First loves to do, then loves the good he does : Nor are his bleffings to his banks confin'd, But free and common, as the fea or wind; When he, to boast or to difperfe his ftores, Full of the tributes of his grateful shores, Vifits the world, and in his flying tow'rs Brings home to us, and makes both Indies ours; Finds wealth where'tis,bestows it where it wants; Cities in defertз, woods in cities, plants. So that to us no thing, no place is itrange, While his fair bofom is the world's exchange. O could I flow like thee, and make thy stream My great example, as it is my theme! Tho' deep, yet clear; tho' gentle, yet not dull; Strong without rage, without o'erflowing full. Heaven her Eridanus no more shall boast, Whose fame in thine, like leffer current, 's loft,
Thy nobler ftreams fhall vifit Jove's abode To fhine among the stars*, and bathe the Here nature, whether more intent to plea Us for herself, with ftrange varieties, (For things of wonder give no lefs delight To the wife Maker's than beholder's fight Tho' thefe delights from fev'ral caufes mo For fo our children, thus our friends we k Wifely the knew, the harmony of things, As well as that of founds, from difcord ip Such was the difcord which did firft difpers Form, order, beauty, through the univer While drynefs moisture, coldness heat ref All that we have, and that we are, fubfiftis. While the steep horrid roughness of the w Strives with the gentle calmnefs of the flo Such huge extremes when nature doth uni Wonder from thence refults, from thence de The stream is fo tranfparent, pure and cla That had the felf-enamour'd youth gaz`d So fatally deceiv'd he had not been, While he the bottom, not his face, had fe But his proud head the airy mountain hid Among the clouds; his fhoulders and his A fhady mantle clothes; his curled brows Frown on the gentle stream, which calmly While winds and storms his lofty forehead b The common fate of all that's high or ge Low at his foot a fpacious plain is plac'd, Between the mountain and the ftrean embr Which fhade and shelter from the hill deri While the kind river wealth and beauty gi And in the mixture of all thefe appears Variety, which all the reft endears.
This fcene had fome bold Greek or Britifa Beheld of old, what ftories had we heard Of fairies, fatyrs, and the nymphs their dr Their feafts, their revels,and theiram'rous 'Tis ftill the fame, although their airy fha, All but a quick poetic fight escape. There Faunus and Sylvanus keep their cou And thither all the horned hoft reforts To graze the ranker mead, that noble her. On whofe fublime and thady fronts is ter Nature's great mafter-piece; to thew how y Great things are made, but fooner are unco Here have I feen the King, when great afha Gave leave to flacken and unbend his cares, Attended to the chace by all the flow'r Of youth, whofe hopes a nobler prey devo Pleafure with praife, and danger they would t And with a foe that would not only fly. The ftag, now confcious of his fatal growth, At once indulgent to his fear and floth, To fome dark covert his retreat had made, Where nor man's eyes nor heaven's fhould in His foft repofe; when th' unexpected found Of dogs, and men, his wakeful ear does wo Rous'd with the noife, he fcarce believes his Willing to think th' illufions of his fear Had given this falfe alarm, but straight his vi Confirms, that more than all his fears is true.
Betray'd in all his ftrengths, the wood befet; All rents, all arts of ruin met; Heals to ind his ftrength, and then his fpeed, His waged heels, and then his armed head; Wat thefe t' avoid, with that his fate to meet: Bat fear prevails, and bids him trust his feet. So be fies, that his reviewing eye Has lot the chafers, and his ear the cry; Exalting, till he finds their nobler fenfe Their disproportion'd fpeed doth recompenfe; The cares his confpiring feet, whofe fcent Bytt fafety which their fwiftnefs lent. The his friends; among the bafer herd, W lately was obey'd and fear'd, Hay feeks; the herd, unkindly wife, Or him from thence, or from him flies; Lea declining ftatesman, left forlorn
trends' pity, and purfuers' fcorn, Vitame remembers, while himfelf was one Of the tame herd, himself the fame had done. Thence to the coverts and the confcious groves, The fcene of his paft triumphs and his loves; yurveying where he rang'd alone hat of the foil, and all the herd his own; Bad, like a bold knight errant, did proclaim Combat to all, and bore away the dame; And taught the woods to echo to the stream s dreadful challenge and his clafhing beam. Tantly now declines the fatal ftrife,
much his love was dearer than his life. Now ev'ry leaf and ev'ry moving breath its a foe, and ev'ry foe a death. Wied, forfaken, and purfued, at laft afety in defpair of fafety plac'd, Le he thence refumes, refolv'd to bear tir affaults, fince 'tis in vain to fear.
, too late, he withes for the fight Thath he wafted in ignoble flight: he fees the eager chace renew'd, by dogs, the dogs by men pursued, Bght revokes his bold refolve, and more ats his courage than his fear before; Finds that uncertain ways unfafeft are,
greater mifchief than defpair. Tatthe ftream, when neitherfriends norforce, Speed, nor art avail, he shapes his courfe; Thanks not their rage fo defp'rate to effay A clement more merciless than they. eferlefs they purfue, nor can the flood ach their dire thirft; alas, they thirst for blood! ards a fhip the oar-finn'd gallies ply, uch wanting fea to ride, or wind to y, ods but to fall reveng'd on thofe that dare pt the laft fury of extreme despair. fares the tag among th' enraged hounds, istheirforce,andwounds returns for wounds. And as a hero, whom his bafer foes is troops furround, now thefe affails, now thofe; Through prodigal of life, difdains to die By common hands; but if he can defcry me nobler foe approach, to him he calls, And begs his fate, and then contented falls:
So when the king a mortal fhaft lets fly From his unerring hand, then glad to die, Proud of the wound, to it refigns his blood, And ftains the cryftal with a purple flood. This a more innocent and happy chace, Than when of old, but in the felf-fame place, Fair Liberty purfued*, and meant a prey To lawless pow'r, here turn'd and ftood at bay. When in that remedy all hope was plac'd Which was, or fhould have been at least, the last, Here was that charter feal'd, wherein the crown All marks of arbitrary pow'r lays down: Tyrant and flave, thofe names of hate and fear, The happier ftyle of king and fubject bear: Happy, when both to the fame centre move, When kings give liberty, and fubjects love. Therefore not long in force this charter ftood; Wanting that feal, it must be feal'd in blood. The fubjects arm'd, the more their princes gave, Th' advantage only took the more to crave; Till kings by giving give themfelves away, And ev'n that pow'r that fhould deny betray. "Who gives contrain'd, but his own fear reviles; "Not thank'd, but fcorn'd; nor are they gifts, but fpoils."
Thuskings,bygrafpingmorethan they couldhold, Firft made their fubjects by oppreffion bold; And pop'lar fway, by forcing kings to give More than was fit for fubjects to receive, Ran to the fame extremes: and one excess
Made both, by ftriving to be greater, lefs. When a calm river, rais'd with fudden rains, Or fnows diffolv'd,o'erflows th'adjoining plains, The hufbandmen with high-rais'd banks fecure Their greedy hopes; and this he can endure. But if with bays and dams they ftrive to force His channel to a new or narrow course, No longer then within his banks he dwells; Firft to a torrent, then a deluge fwells: Stronger and fiercer by reftraint he roars, [fhores. And knows no bound, but makes his pow'r his
$25. On Mr. Abraham Cowley's Death, and Bu rial amongst the ancient Poets. Denham. OLD Chaucer, like the morning ítar, To us difcovers day from far;
His light thofe mifts and clouds diffolv'd Which our dark nation long involv'd; But, he defcending to the fhades, Darkness again the age invades. Next (like Aurora) Spenfer rofe, Whofe purple blush the day forefhews; The other three with his own fires Phoebus, the poet's god, infpires; By Shakefpear's, Jonfon's, Fletcher's lines Our stage's luftre Rome outfhines; Thefe poets near our princes fleep, And in one grave our manfion keep. They liv'd to fee fo many days, Till time had blafted all their bays; But curfed be the fatal hour That pluck'd the faireft, fweeteft flow'r
That in the mufe's garden grew, And amongst wither'd laurels threw! Time, which made their fame out-live, To Cowley fcarce did ripenefs give. Old mother Wit and Nature gave Shakespear and Fletcher all they have; In Spenter, and in Jonson, art Of flower nature got the flart; But both in him to equal are,
None knows which bears the happiest share. To him no author was unknown, Yet what he wrote was all his own; He melted not the ancient gold, Nor,ith Een Jonion, did make bold To plander all the Roman ftores Of poets and of orators: Horace's wit, and Virgil's ftate, He did not teal, but emulate!
And when he would like them appear, Their garb, but not their clothes, did wear: He not from Rome alone, but Greece, Like Jafon, brought the golden fleece; To him that language (though to none Of th' others) as his own was known. On a fift gale (as Flaccus fings) The Theban fwan extends his wings: When thro' th' ethereal clouds he flies, To the fame pitch our fwan doth rife; Old Pindar's flights by him are reach'd, When on that gale his wings are firetch'd: His fancy and is judgment fuch, Each to the other jeem'd too much; His fevere judgment (giving law) His modeft fan y kept in awe; As rigid hufbands jealous are, When they believe their wives too fair. His English ftreams fo pure did flow, As all that faw and tafted know. But for his Latin vein, fo clear, Strong, full, and high, it doth appear, That, were immortal Virgil bere, Hia for his judge he would not fear; Of that great portraiture, fo true A copy pencil never drew. My mute her fong had ended here, But both their Genii ftraight appear ; Joy and amazement her did ftrike, Two twins the never faw fo like. 'Twas taught by wife Pythagoras, One foul might through more bodies pafs: Seeing fuch tranfmigration there, She thought it not a fable here; Such a refemblance of all parts, Life, death, age, fortune, nature, arts; Then lights her torch at theirs, to tell, And fhew the world this parallel: Fix'd and contemplative their looks, Still turning over nature's books: Their works chafte, oral, and divine, Where profit and delight combine; They, gilding dirt, in noble verfe Ruftic philofophy rehearse.
When heroes, gods, or godlike kings They praife, on their exalted wings To the celestial orbs they climb,
And with th harmonious fpheres keep tir Nor did their actions fall behind Their words, but with like candour shin'd; Each drew fair characters, yet none Of thofe they feiga'd excels their own. Both by two generous princes lov`d, Who knew, and judg'd what they approv Yet having each the fame defire, Both from the buty tlurong retire. Their bodies, to their minds refign'd, Car'd not to propagate their kind: Yet though both fell before their hour, Time on their offspring hath no pow`t; Nor five nor fate their bays fall blaft, Nor death's dark veil their day o'ercaft.
26. An Elay on Tranflated Verfe. Earl of Rofcommcz HAPPY that author whofe correct effay Repairs fo well our old Horatian way: And happy you, who (by propitious fate) On great Apollo's facred itandard wait, And with triet difcipline inftructed right, Have learn'd to ufe your arms before you r But fince the prefs, the pulpit, and the stag Confire to cenfure and expofe our age; Provok'd too far, we refolutely mult, To the few virtues that we have, be juft. For who have long'dor who have labour'd mo To fearch the treatures of the Roman ftore, Or dig in Grecian mines for purer ore? The nobleft fruits, transplanted in our ifle, With early hope and fragrant blossoms fmi Familar Ovid tender thoughts infpires, And nature feconds all his foft defires: Theocritus does now to us belong; And Albion's rocks repeat his rural fong. Who has not heard how Italy was bieft Above the Medes, above the wealthy Eaft? Or Gallus' fong fo tender and so true, As ev'n Lycoris might with pity view! [her When mourning nymphs attend their Dahph Who does not weep that reads the moving w But hear, oh hear, in what exalted frains Sicilian Mufes through thefe happy plains Proclaim Saturnian times-our own Apo reigns!
When France had breath'dafterinteftinebroi And peace andconqueftcrown'dherforeign toil. There (cultivated by a royal hand) ̧ Learning grew faft, and fpread, and blefs'd th land; [known The choiceft books that Rome or Greece hav Her excellent tranflators made her own; And Furope itill confiderably gains Both by their good example and their pains. From herce our generous emulation came; We undertook, and we perform'd the fame.
John Sheffield Duke of Buckingham.
Brows: hew the world a nobler way, Amfited verfe do more than they; $ clear harmonious Horace flows, Westnels not to be exprefs'd in profe: Degrease explains his meaming ill,
tuff, but not the workman's skill: nev'd him more than twenty years) ** Dy mafter as he there appears. Vatan sur neighbours' hopes, and vain their
more their language's than theirs; torid, and abounds in words ad than ours perhaps affords; Bad ever in French authors fee enfive Englith energy? *ty bullion of one fterling line, French wire, would thro' whole pages
private but impartial fenfe,
on, and I hope without offence; when France can fhew me wit as ours, and as succinctly writ. , compofing is a nobler part;
lation is no eafy art. Arghalterials have long fince been found, twear fancy and your hands are bound; proving what was writ before,
bours lefs, but judgment more. intended for Pitrian feeds the will purgid from rank pedantic weeds. tarts, and all Parnaifus thakes, trade rumbling Bacalipton makes.
have been with admiration read, refide their leaning) were well bred. int great work (i taik perform'd by few) relfinay to yourself be true: Ano tricks, no favour, no referve; cur mind, examine ev'ry nerve. vainly on his ftrength depends, Virgil, but like Mævius ends. ach (in fpite of his forgotten rhymes), d to live to all fucceeding times, pous nonfenfe and a bellowing found, lium tumbling to the ground.
ry Mife can through palt ages fee) y, tafeous, gaping fool was he: ed when, with univerfal fcorn, untains labour'd and a moufe was born. , learn, Crotona's brawny wreftler cries, acious mortals, and be timely wife;
I that call, remember Milo's end, d in that timber which he ftrove to rend. -xt with a diffrent talent writes; prales, one inftructs, another bites. did ne'er afpire to Epic bays, fty Maro ftoop to Lyric lays. ive how your humour is inclin'd, which the ruling paflion of your mind;
ka poet who your way does bend, de an author as you choose a friend; ay tais f, mpathetic bond,
With how much eafe is a young Mufe betray'd! How nice the reputation of the maid ! Your early, kind, paternal care appears, By chatte inftruction of her tender years. The first impreffion in her infant breast Will be the deepeft, and fhould be the best. Let not aufterity breed fervile fear, No wanton found offend her virgin ear. Secure from foolish pride's affected state, And fpecious flatt'ry's more pernicious bait, Habitual innocence adorns her thoughts; But your neglect must answer for her faults.
Immodeft words admit of no defence; For want of decency is want of fenfe. [ftews, What mod'rate fop would rake the Park or Who among troops of faultlefs nymphs may Variety of fuch is to be found : [choose? Then take a fubject proper to expound; But moral, great, and worth a poet's voice, For men of fenfe defpife a trivial choice: And fuch applaufe it muft expect to meet, As would fome painter bufy in a street To copy bulls and bears, and ev'ry fign That calls the ftaring fots to nafty wine.
Yet 'tis not all to have a fubject good; It muft delight us when 'tis underflood. He that brings fulfome objects to my view (As many old have done, and many new) With naufeons images my fancy fills, And all goes down like oxymel of fquills. Instruct the lift'ning world how Maro fings Of ufeful fubjects and of lofty things. Thefe will fuch true, fuch bright ideas raife, As merit gratitude as well as praise : But foul defcriptions are offenfive still, Either for being like, or being ill. For who, without a qualm, hath ever look'd On holy garbage, though by Homer cook'd? Whole railing heroes, and whofe wounded Gods, Make fome fufpect he fnores as well as nods. But I offend-Virgil begins to frown, And Horace looks with indignation down; My blufhing Mule with confcious fear retires, And whom they like implicitly admires.
On fure foundations let your fabric rife, And with attractive majetty furprife, Not by affected meretricious arts, But ftrict harmonious fymmetry of parts; Which through the whole infenfibly must pass, With vital heat to animate the mafs:
A pure, an active, and aufpicious flame, [came; And bright as heaven, from whence the bleffing But few, oh few, fouls pre-ordain'd by fate, The race of Gods, have reach'd that envied No rebel Titan's facrilegious crime, [height. By heaping hills on hills, can hither climb: The grizly ferryman of hell denied Aneas entrance, till he knew his guide: How justly then will impious mortals fall, Whofe pride would foar to heaven without a call!
Pride (of all others the most dang'rous fault) 5 familiar, intimate, and fond; Proceeds from want of fenfe or want of thought. this, your words, your ftyles, your The men who labour and digeft things moft, interpreter, but he. [foul agree,Will be much apter to depond than boaft:
For if your author be profoundly good, Twill coft you dear before he 's understood. How many ages tince has Virgil writ? How few are they who understand him yet! Approach his altars with religious fear, No vulgar deity inhabits there:
Heaven fhakes not more at Jove's imperial nod, Than poets fhould before their Mantuan god. Hail, mighty Maro! may that facred name ' Kindle my breaft with thy celestial flame; Sublime ideas and apt words infufe ;[the Mufe! The Mule inftruct my voice, and thou infpire What I have inftanc'd only in the beft, Is, in proportion, true of all the reft. Take pains the genuine meaning to explore; There fweat, there ftrain, tug the laborious oar; Search ev'ry comment that your care can find, Some here, fome there, may hit the poet's mind; Yet be not blindly guided by the throng; The multitude is always in the wrong. When things appear unnatural or hard, Confult your author, with himself compar'd; Who knows what bleifing Phoebus may bestow, And future ages to your labour owe? Such fecrets are not eafily found out; But, once difcover'd, leave no room for doubt. Truth ftamps conviction in your ravifh'd breaft, And peace and joy attend the glorious gueft. Truth ftill is one; truth is divinely bright; No cloudy doubts obfcure her native light; While in your thoughts you find the leat debate, You may confound, but never can tranflate. Your style will this through all difguifes fhew, For none explain more clearly than they know. He only proves he understands a text, Whofe expofition leaves it unperplex'd. They who too faithfidly on names infilt, Rather create than dilipate the mit; And grow unjust by being over nice (For fuperftitious virtue turns to vice). Let Craffus ghoft and Labienus tell How twice in Parthian plains their legions fell: Since Rome hath been fo jealous of her fame, That few know Pacorus' or Monafes' name. Words in one language elegantly us'd, Will hardly in another be excus'd. And fome that Rome admired in Cæfar's time, May neither fuit our genius nor our clime. The nue fenfe, intelligibly told, Show's a tran.lator both diicreet and bold.
Excursions are inexpiably bad;
And 'tis much fafer to leave out than add. Abftrufe and myllic thoughts you muft exprefs With painful care, but fecming eatinets; For truth fines brightest thro' the plaine
Th' Ænean Mufe, when she appears in state, Makes all Jove's thunder on ber verfes wait; Yet writes fometimes as foft and moving things As Venus freaks, or Philomela fugs. Your author always wil the best advise; Fall when he falls, and when he rifes rife.
Affected noife is the moft wretched thing. That to contempt can empty fcribblers bring Vowels and accents, regularly plac'd, On even fyllables (and will the latt), Though grofs innumerable faults abound, In fpite of nonfenfe, never tail of found. But this is meant of even veríe alone, As being moft harmonious and most known For if you will unequal numbers try, There accents on odd fyllables muit lie. Whatever filter of the learned Nine Does to your fuit a willing ear incline, Urge your fuccefs, deferve a lailing name, She'll crown a grateful and a conftant name. But if a wild uncertainty prevail, And turn your veering heart with ev'ry ga'e You lose the fruit of all your former care For the fad profpect of a just despair.
A quack (too fcandaloutly mean to name Had, by man-midwifery, got wealth and fai As if Lucina had forgot her trade, The labouring wife invokes his furer aid. Well-featon'd bowls the gofhip's fpirits raie Who,while the guzzles, chats the doctor's pi And largely what the wants in words fu With maudlin-eloquence of trickling eyes. But what a thoughtlefs animl is man! How very active in his own trepan! For greedy of phyficians' frequent fees, From female mellow praife he takes degres Struts in a new unlicens'd gown, and then, From faving women, falls to killing men. Another fuch had left the nation thin, In fpite of all the children he brought in. lis pills as thick as hand-granadoes flow; And where they fell, as certainly they flows His name truck every where as great a dan As Archimedes' through the Roman caval. With this, the doctor's pride began to co For fmarting foundly may convince a fool. But now repentance came too late for grace; And meagre famine ftar'd him in the face Fain would he to the wives be reconcil, But found no hufband left to own a child. The friends that got the brats were poifon'd to In this fad cafe what could our vermin do? Worried with debts, and part ali hope of b Th' unpiti.d wretch lies rotting in a jail ; And there with basket-alms fcarce kept alive Shews how mistaken talents ought to thrive.
I pity, from my foul, unhappy men, Comp.d by want to profitute their pen; Who auft, like lawyers, either ftirve or pa And toliow, right or wrong, where guineasle But you, Ponipilian, wealthy pamper'd heirs Who to your country owe your fwords and care Let no vain hope your eafy mind feduce, For rich ill roets are without excufe.
I is very dangerous, tampering with a mufe The profit's tail, and you have much to luft For though true wit adorns your birth or plac Degenerate lines degrade th' attainted race. Hor. jii. Od. 6.
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