The laurel feem'd to wait on his command; He fnatch'd it rudely from the muses' hand. With mufic, modulating all their notes; And charms the woodland scenes, and wilds unknown, Skill'd in the characters that form mankind; And, as the fun in rifing beauty dress'd, Looks to the weftward from the dappled east, And marks, whatever clouds may interpofe, Ere yet his race begins, its glorious close; An eye like his to catch the distant goal; Or, ere the wheels of verfe begin to roll, On ev'ry scene and subject it furveys: Thus grac'd, the man afferts a poet's name, A skilful guide into poetic ground! The flow'rs would fpring where'er fhe deign'd to ftray, And ev'ry mufe attend her in her way. Virtue indeed meets many a rhiming friend, And many a compliment politely penn'd; But, unattir'd in that becoming vest The fhelves are full, all other themes are fped; Hackney'd and worn to the laft flimfy thread, Satire has long fince done his best; and curft Fancy has sported all her pow'rs away In tales, in trifles, and in children's play; And 'tis the fad complaint, and almost true, Whate'er we write, we bring forth nothing new. 'Twere new indeed to see a bard all fire, Touch'd with a coal from heav'n, affume the lyre, For, after all, if merely to beguile, The tædium that the lazy rich endure, Which now and then sweet poetry may cure; Stamp'd on the well-bound quarto, grace the fhelf, To float a bubble on the breath of fame, Prompt his endeavour, and engage his aim, Debas'd to fervile purpofes of pride, How are the pow'rs of genius mifapplied! The gift, whofe office is the Giver's praise, Proof of a trifling and a worthless mind. A. Hail Sternhold, then; and Hopkins, hail! B. Amen. If flatt'ry, folly, luft, employ the pen; If acrimony, flander, and abuse, Give it a charge to blacken and traduce; Though Butler's wit, Pope's numbers, Prior's ease, With all that fancy can invent to please, Adorn the polifh'd periods as they fall, One madrigal of their's is worth them all. |