Anacreon, Horace, play'd in Greece and Rome

This Bedlam part; and, others nearer home.
When Cromwell fought for pow'r, and while he reign'd

The proud protector of the pow'r he gain'd,

Religion harfh, intolerant, auftere,

Parent of manners like herfelf fevere,

Drew a rough copy of the Chriftian face
Without the fimile, the fweetnefs, or the grace;

The dark and fullen humour of the time

Judg'd ev'ry effort of the mufe a crime;

Verfe in the fineft mould of fancy caft,

Was lumber in an age so void of taste ;
But when the fecond Charles affum'd the fway,
And arts reviv'd beneath a fofter day,

Then like a bow long forc'd into a curve,

The mind, releas'd from too constrain'd a nerve
Flew to its firft pofition with a fpring

That made the vaulted roofs of pleasure ring.
His court, the diffolute and hateful school

Of wantonnefs, where vice was taught by rule,

Swarm'd with a fcribbling herd as deep inlaid
With brutal luft as ever Circe made.

From thefe a long fucceffion, in the rage

Of rank obfcenity debauch'd their age,
Nor ceas'd, 'till ever anxious to redress
Th' abuses of her facred charge, the press,
The mufe inftructed a well nurtur'd train
Of abler votaries to cleanse the ftain,
And claim the palm for purity of fong,
That lewdness had ufurp'd and worn fo long.
Then decent pleasantry and sterling sense

That neither gave nor would endure offence,
Whipp'd out of fight with fatyr juft and keen,
The puppy pack that had defil'd the scene.

In front of these came Addifon. In him

Humour in holiday and fightly trim,
Sublimity and attic taste combin❜d,

To polish, furnish, and delight the mind;

Then Pope, as harmony itself exact,

In verse well difciplin'd, complete, compact;

VOL. I.

Ꭰ

Gave

Gave virtue and morality a grace

That quite eclipfing pleasure's painted face,
Levied a tax of wonder and applause,

Ev'n on the fools that trampl'd on their laws.
But he (his musical fineffe was fuch,

So nice his ear, fo delicate his touch)
Made poetry a mere mechanic art,

And ev'ry warbler has his tune by heart.
Nature imparting her fatyric gift,

Her ferious mirth, to Arbuthnot and Swift,

With droll fobriety they rais'd a fmile

At Folly's coft, themselves unmov'd the while.
That conftellation fet, the world in vain

Muft hope to look upon their like again.

A. Are we then left-B. Not wholly in the dark, Wit now and then, ftruck smartly fhews a spark, Sufficient to redeem the modern race From total night and abfolute difgrace. While fervile trick and imitative knack

Confine the million in the beaten track,

Perhaps

Perhaps fome courfer who difdains the road,
Snuffs up the wind and flings himself abroad.

Contempories all furpass'd, fee one,

Short his career, indeed, but ably run,

Churchill; himself unconscious of his pow'rs,

In

penury confum'd his idle hours,

And like a scatter'd feed at random fown,
Was left to fpring by vigor of his own.
Lifted at length by dignity of thought,
And dint of genius to an affluent lot,
He laid his head in luxury's foft lap,
And took too often there his eafy nap.

If brighter beams than all he threw not forth,
'Twas negligence in him, not want of worth.
Surly and flovenly, and bold and coarse,
Too proud for art, and trusting in mere force,
Spendthrift alike of money and of wit,
Always at speed and never drawing bit,
He ftruck the lyre in fuch a careless mood,
And fo difdain'd the rules he understood.

The laurel feem'd to wait on his command,
He fnatch'd it rudely from the muses hand.
Nature exerting an unwearied pow'r,

Forms, opens, and gives fcent to ev'ry flow'r,
Spreads the fresh verdure of the field, and leads
The dancing Naiads through the dewy meads :
She fills profufe ten thousand little throats

With music, modulating all their notes,

And charms the woodland fcenes and wilds unknown,

With artless airs and concerts of her own :

But feldom (as if fearful of expence)

Vouchfafes to man a poet's just pretence,

Fervency, freedom, fluency of thought,
Harmony, ftrength, words exquifitely sought;
Fancy that from the bow that spans the sky,
Brings colours dipt in heav'n that never die;
A foul exalted above earth, a mind

Skill'd in the characters that form mankind;
And as the fun in rifing beauty drefs'd,

Looks to the weftward from the dappled east,

And