What wondrous draughts might rise from every page!

What other Raphaels charm a distant age! 110

Methinks e'en now I view some free design, Where breathing Nature lives in every line: Chaste and subdued the modest lights decay, Steal into shades, and mildly melt away.

And see where Anthony,[60] in tears approved, 115 Guards the pale relics of the chief he loved: O'er the cold corse the warrior seems to bend, Deep sunk in grief, and mourns his murder'd friend!

Still as they press, he calls on all around, Lifts the torn robe, and points the bleeding wound. 120

But who[61] is he, whose brows exalted bear A wrath impatient, and a fiercer air?

Awake to all that injured worth can feel, On his own Rome he turns the avenging steel; Yet shall not war's insatiate fury fall 125 (So heaven ordains it) on the destined wall.

See the fond mother, 'midst the plaintive train, Hung on his knees, and prostrate on the plain!

Touch'd to the soul, in vain he strives to hide The son's affection, in the Roman's pride: 130 O'er all the man conflicting pa.s.sions rise; Rage grasps the sword, while Pity melts the eyes.

Thus generous Critic, as thy Bard inspires, The sister Arts shall nurse their drooping fires; Each from his scenes her stores alternate bring, 135 Blend the fair tints, or wake the vocal string: Those sibyl leaves, the sport of every wind, (For poets ever were a careless kind,) By thee disposed, no farther toil demand, But, just to Nature, own thy forming hand. 140

So spread o'er Greece, the harmonious whole unknown, E'en Homer's numbers charm'd by parts alone.

Their own Ulysses scarce had wander'd more, By winds and waters cast on every sh.o.r.e: When, raised by fate, some former Hanmer join'd 145 Each beauteous image of the boundless mind; And bade, like thee, his Athens ever claim A fond alliance with the Poet's name.

Oxford, Dec. 3, 1743.

VARIATIONS.

Ver.

1. While, own'd by you, with smiles the Muse surveys The expected triumph of her sweetest lays: While, stretch'd at ease, she boasts your guardian aid, Secure, and happy in her sylvan shade: Excuse her fears, who scarce a verse bestows, In just remembrance of the debt she owes; With conscious, &c.

9. Long slighted Fancy with a mother's care Wept o'er his works, and felt the last despair: Torn from her head, she saw the roses fall, By all deserted, though admired by all:

near And "Oh!" she cried, "shall Science still resign 11 Whate'er is Nature's, and whate'er is mine?

to Shall Taste and Art but show a cold regard, 22. And scornful Pride reject the unletter'd bard?

Ye myrtled nymphs, who own my gentle reign, Tune the sweet lyre, and grace my airy train, If, where ye rove, your searching eyes have known One perfect mind, which judgment calls its own; There every breast its fondest hopes must bend, And every Muse with tears await her friend."

'Twas then fair Isis from her stream arose, In kind compa.s.sion of her sister's woes.

'Twas then she promised to the mourning maid The immortal honours which thy hands have paid: "My best loved son," she said, "shall yet restore Thy ruin'd sweets, and Fancy weep no more."

Each rising art by slow gradation moves; Toil builds, &c.

25. Line after line our pitying eyes o'erflow,

27. To Rome removed, with equal power to please,

35. When Rome herself, her envied glories dead, No more imperial, stoop'd her conquer'd head; Luxuriant Florence chose a softer theme, While all was peace, by Arno's silver stream.

With sweeter notes the Etrurian vales complain'd, And arts reviving told a Cosmo reign'd.

Their wanton lyres the bards of Provence strung, Sweet flow'd the lays, but love was all they sung.

The gay, &c.

45. But Heaven, still rising in its works, decreed

63. His every strain the Loves and Graces own;

71. Till late Corneille from epick Lucan brought The full expression, and the Roman thought:

101. O, blest in all that genius gives to charm, Whose morals mend us, and whose pa.s.sions warm!

Oft let my youth attend thy various page, Where rich invention rules the unbounded stage: There every scene the poet's warmth may raise, And melting music find the softest lays: O, might the Muse with equal ease persuade Expressive Picture to adopt thine aid!

Some powerful Raphael should again appear, And arts consenting fix their empire here.

111. Methinks e'en now I view some fair design, Where breathing Nature lives in every line; Chaste and subdued, the modest colours lie, In fair proportion to the approving eye: And see where Anthony lamenting stands, In fixt distress, and spreads his pleading hands: O'er the pale corse the warrior seems to bend,

122. A rage impatient, and a fiercer air?

E'en now his thoughts with eager vengeance doom The last sad ruin of ungrateful Rome.

Till, slow advancing o'er the tented plain, In sable weeds, appear the kindred train: The frantic mother leads their wild despair, Beats her swoln breast, and rends her silver hair; And see, he yields! the tears unbidden start, And conscious nature claims the unwilling heart!

O'er all the man conflicting pa.s.sions rise;

136. Spread the fair tints, or wake the vocal string:

146. Each beauteous image of the tuneful mind;

FOOTNOTES:

[54] The dipus of Sophocles.

[55] Julius the Second, the immediate predecessor of Leo the Tenth.

[56] Their characters are thus distinguished by Mr. Dryden.

[57] About the time of Shakespeare, the poet Hardy was in great repute in France. He wrote, according to Fontenelle, six hundred plays.

The French poets after him applied themselves in general to the correct improvement of the stage, which was almost totally disregarded by those of our own country, Jonson excepted.

[58] The favourite author of the elder Corneille.

[59] Turno tempus erit, magno c.u.m optaverit emptum Intactum Pallanta, etc.

VIRG.

[60] See the tragedy of Julius Caesar.

[61] Coriola.n.u.s. See Mr. Spence's Dialogue on the Odyssey.

DIRGE IN CYMBELINE,

SUNG BY GUIDERUS AND ARVIRAGUS OVER FIDELE, SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD.

To fair Fidele's gra.s.sy tomb Soft maids and village hinds shall bring Each opening sweet of earliest bloom, And rifle all the breathing spring.

No wailing ghost shall dare appear 5 To vex with shrieks this quiet grove; But shepherd lads a.s.semble here, And melting virgins own their love.

No wither'd witch shall here be seen; No goblins lead their nightly crew: 10 The female fays shall haunt the green, And dress thy grave with pearly dew!

The redbreast oft, at evening hours, Shall kindly lend his little aid, With h.o.a.ry moss, and gather'd flowers, 15 To deck the ground where thou art laid.