If human woes her soft attention claim, Along the nerves of every feeling line. But if a deed not tamely to be borne 485 The strings are swept with such a pow'r so loud, 490 The storm of musick shakes th' astonish'd crowd. So, when remote futurity is brought Before the keen inquiry of her thought, A terrible sagacity informs The poet's heart; he looks to distant storms; He hears the thunder ere the tempest low'rs; 495 And, arm'd with strength surpassing human pow'rs, And darts his soul into the dawning plan. Hence in a Roman mouth, the graceful name 500 Of prophet and of poet was the same; Hence, British poets, too, the priesthood shar'd, I play with syllables, and sport in song. 505 A. At Westminster, where little poets strive To set a distich upon six and five, Where Discipline helps th' op'ning buds of sense; And makes his pupils proud with silver pence, I was a poet too but modern taste 510 Is so refin'd, and delicate, and chaste, That verse, whatever fire the fancy warms, 515 I judg'd a man of sense could scarce do worse, B. Thus reputation is a spur to wit, 520 Give me the line that ploughs its stately course When Labour and when Dulness club in hand, All birks and braes, though he was never there; 525 530 535 5:40 To substitute for genius, sense, and wit. To dally much with subjects mean and low Proves that the mind is weak, or makes it so. 545 Neglected talents rust into decay, And ev'ry effort ends in pushpin play. The man that means success should soar above A soldier's feather, or a lady's glove; Else, summoning the muse to such a theme, 550 The fruit of all her labour is whipp'd cream, As if an eagle flew aloft, and then Stoop'd from its highest pitch to pounce a wren. As if the poet, purposing to wed, Should carve himself a wife in gingerbread. 555 Ages elaps'd ere Homer's lamp appear'd, And ages ere the Mantuan swan was heard, To carry Nature's lengths unknown before, To give a Milton birth, ask'd ages more. VOL. I. 3 Thus Genius rose and set at order'd times, 560 565 570 Or candidly confess yourself a dunce. B. These were the chief: each interval of night Was grac'd with many an undulating light. A meteor or a star; in these the sun. 575 The nightingale may claim the topmost bough, While the poor grasshopper must chirp below. Like him unnotic'd I, and such as I, Spread little wings, and rather skip than fly; 580 Had faded, poetry was not an art: 585 Language above all teaching, or, if taught, Man lavish'd all his thoughts on human things-- But still, while virtue kindled his delight, 600 To joys less innocent, as less refin'd; Then Genius danc'd a bacchanal; he crown'd The brimming goblet, seiz'd the thyrsus, bound And, dizzy with delight, profan'd the sacred wires. 605 When Cromwell fought for pow'r, and while he reign'd The proud protector of the power he gain'd, 611 Parent of manners like herself severe, Drew a rough copy of the Christian face, Without the smile, the sweetness, or the grace; 615 The dark and sullen humour of the time Judg'd ev'ry effort of the muse a crime; Verse, in the finest mould of fancy cast, Was lumber in an age so void of taste: But when the second Charles assum'd the sway, 620 And arts reviv'd beneath a softer day, The mind, releas'd from too constrain'd a nerve, That made the vaulted roofs of Pleasure ring. 625 His court, the dissolute and hateful school Swarm'd with a scribbling herd, as deep inlaid From these a long succession, in a rage 630 Of rank obscenity debauch'd their age: Nor ceas'd till ever anxious to redress The abuses of her sacred charge, the press, The muse instructed a well-nurtur'd train Of abler votaries to cleanse the stain, 635 And claim the palm for purity of song, In him In front of these came Addison. 640 645 In verse well disciplin'd, complete, compact, That quite eclipsing Pleasure's painted face, Levied a tax of wonder and applause, 650 E'en on the fools that trampled on their laws. But he, (his musical finesse was such, So nice his ear, so delicate his touch,) 655 Her serious mirth, to Arbuthnot and Swift, With droll sobriety they rais'd a smile At Folly's cost, themselves unmov'd the while. 660 Must hope to look upon their like again. A. Are we then left-B. Not wholly in the dark; Wit now and then, struck smartly, shows a spark, 665 670 Short his career, indeed, but ably run; |