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;hed by J.Ro ach, Woburn Street New Drury Theatre Royal 1795.

COTTERS SATURDAY NIGHT,

by Robert Burnie
THE BOWER OF BLISS,

by Spencer.
PROLOGUE & EPILOGUE

to the Satires,

dry Alex"Pope. An Essay on Translated Verse , by Roscommon.

&c. &c

muikotark

Tuula

G. Hurray

Stop, Stop: John Gilpin heres the House They all at once did

ory; The Dinner naits, and we are tired;

Said Gilpin Hondon Printed byg for I Roach, at the Britannia Printing office. Woburn Sheet New Drury Theatre Royal Upril 1.1795.

so am I?

See ? 20.

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AN ESSAY ON TRANSLATED VERSE,

By the EARL of ROSCOMMON.

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HAPPY that author whose correâ effay*

Repairs so well our old Horatian way :
And happy you, who (by propitious fate)
On great Apollo's sacred standard wait.
And with strict discipline instructed right,
Have learn’d to use your arms before you fight.
But since the press, the pulpit, and the stage,
Conspire tocensure and expose our age;
Provok'd too far, we resolutely must,
To the few virtues that we have, be just.
For who have long'd or who have labour'd more
To search the treasures of the Roman store,
Or dig in Grecian mines for purer ore ?
The nobleft fruits, transplanted in our ille,
With early hope and fragrant blossoms smile.
Familiar Ovid tender thoughts inspires,
And nature seconds all his soft desires :
Theocritus does now to us belong ;
And Albion's rocks repeat his rural song.

}

Vol. VI. 21.

A

Who

* John Sheffield Duke of Buckingham.

Who has not heard how Italy was blest
Above the Medes, above the wealthy Eaft?
Or Gallus’ song, fo tender and so true,
As even Lycoris might with pity view!
When mourning nymphs attend their Daphnis' hearse,
Who does not weep that reads the moving verse ?
But hear, oh hear, in what exalted flrains,
Secilian Muses through these happy plains
Proclaim Saturnian times—our own Apollo reigns!

When France had breath'd after intestine broils,
And peace and conqueft crown’d her foreign toils,
There (cultivated by a royal hand)
Learning grew fast, and spread, and bless'd the land ;
The choicell books that Rome or Greece have known,
Her excellent tranflators made her own;
And Europe fill considerably gains
Both by their good example and their pains.
From hence our generous emulation came ;
We undertook, and we perform'd the same,
But now we shew the world a nobler way,
And in translated verse do more than they ;
Serene and clear harmonious Horace flows
With sweetness not to be express’d in prose:
Degrading prose explains his meaning ill,
And shews the stuff, but not the workman's skill:
I who have serv'd him more than twenty years)
Scarce know my master as he there appears.
Vain are our neighbours hopes, and vain their cares ;
Their fault is more their language's than theirs :

'Tis

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