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- PROGRESS of POESY.

A PINDARIC ODE.

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PINDAR, Olymp. II.

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When the Author first published this and

the following Ode, he was advised, even by his Friends, to subjoin some few explanatory Notes; but he had too much respect for the understanding of his Readers to take that liberty.

THE

PROGRESS OF POESY,

A PINDARIC O DE.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.!

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A WAKE, Æolian lyre, awake,
And give to rapture all thy trembling

strings. .
From Helicon's harmonious springs ,

A thousand rills their mazy progress take:

The

* Awake, up my glory: awake, lute and harp.

David's Psalms. Pindar styles his own poetry with its musical accompaniments, Λιολήύς μολπή, Αιόλιδες χορδαί, Αιολίδων πνοαι αυλών,

Æolian song, Æolian strings, the breath of the Æolian flute.

The

The laughing flow'rs, that round them blow,
Drink life and fragrance as they flow.
Now the rich stream of music winds along,
Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong,
Thro' verdant vales, and Ceres' golden reign :
Now rolling down the steep amain,
Headlong, impetuous, see it pour :
The rocks, and nodding groves rebellow to the

roar.

Oh!

The subject and simile, as usual with Pindar, are united. The various sources of poetry, which gives life and lustre to all it touches, are here described ; its quiet majestic progress enriching every subject (otherwise dry and barren) with a pomp of di&tion and luxuriant harmony of numbers ; and its more rapid and irresistible course, when swoln and hurried away by the conflict of tumultuous passions,

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1. 2. : * Oh! Sovereign of the willing soul, Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs, Enchanting shell! the fullen Cares,

And frantic Passions hear thy soft controul. On Thracia's hills the Lord of War, Has curb'd the fury of his car, And drop'd his thirsty lance at thy command. + Perching on the sceptred hand Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather’d king With ruffled plumes, and flagging wing: Quench'd in dark clouds of sumber lie The terror of his beak, and light'nings of his eye.

. : Thee

* Power of harmony to calm the turbulent fal. lies of the soul. The thoughts are borrowed from the first Pythian Ode of Pindar.

+ This is a weak imitation of some incomparable lines in the fame Ode. :'

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