"Naked and half-burnt hills with hideous wreck
"Affright the skies, and fry the ocean's back "
As he went rumbling on, the Fury straight
Crawl'd in, her limbs could fcarce fupport her weight.
A rueful rag her meagre forehead bound,
And faintly her furr'd lips these accents found:
Mortal, how dar'ft thou with fuch lines addrefs
My awful feat, and trouble my recefs?
In Effex marthy hundreds is a cell,
Where lazy fogs and drizzling vapours dwell:
Thither raw damps on drooping wings repair,
And fhivering quartens fhake the fickly air.
There, when fatigu'd, fome filent hours I pafs,
And fubftitute Phyficians in my place.
Then dare not, for the future, once rehearse
The diffonance of fuch untuneful verfe;
But in your lines let energy be found,
And learn to rife in fenfe, and fink in found.
Harsh words, though pertinent, uncouth appear;
None please the fancy, who offend the ear.
In fenfe and numbers if you would excel,
Read Wycherley, confider Dryden well.
In one, what vigorous turns of fancy fhine!
In th' other, Syrens warble in each line.
If Dorfet's fprightly Mufe but touch the lyre,
The Smiles and Graces melt in foft defire,
And little Loves confefs their amorous fire.
After ver. 212. thefe lines are omitted:
The Tiber now no gentle Gallus fees,
But fmiling Thames enjoys her Normanbys.
*Prince Arthur, p. 130.
The gentle Ifis claims the ivy crown,
To bind th' inmortal brows of Addifon.
As tuneful Congreve tries his rural strains,
Pan quits the woods, the liftening Fawns the plains;
And Philomel, in notes like his, complains.
And Britain, fince Paufanias was writ,
Knows Spartan virtue, and Athenian wit.
When Stepney paints the godlike acts of kings,
Or, what Apollo dictates, Prior fings;
The banks of Rhine a pleas'd attention show,
And filver Sequana forgets to flow.
Such juft examples carefully read o'er;
Slide without falling; without ftraining, foar.
Oft' though your ftrokes furprize, you should not choofe
A theme fo mighty for a virgin Muse.
Long did Apelles his fam'd piece decline;
His Alexander was his laft defign.
'Tis Montague's rich vein alone must prove,
None but a Phidias should attempt a Jove.
The Fury paus'd, till with a frightful found
A rifing whirlwind burst th' unhallow'd ground.
Then fhe The Deity we Fortune call,
Though diftant, rules and influences all..
The Fury faid; and vanishing from fight,
Cry'd out, To arms; fo left the realms of light.
The combatants to th' enterprize confent,
And the next day fmil'd on the great event.
Straight for her favour to her court repair;
Important embaffies afk wings of air.
Each wondering flood; but Horofcope's great foul,
That dangers ne'er alarm, nor doubts control,
Rais'd on the pinions of the bounding wind,
Out-flew the rack, and left the hours behind.
The evening now with blushes warms the air,
The steer refigns the yoke, the hind his care.
The clouds above with golden edgings glow,
And falling dews refresh the earth below.
The bat with footy wings flits through the grove,
The reeds fearce ruftle, nor the afpines move.
And all the feather'd folks forbear their lays of love,
Through the tranfparent region of the skies,
Swift as a wish, the miflionary flies:
With wonder he furveys the upper air,
And the gay gilded meteors fporting there;
How lambent jellies, kindling in the night,
Shoot through the æther in a trail of light;
How rifing fteams in th' azure fluid blend,
Or fleet in clouds, or foft in fhowers defcend;
Or, if the ftubborn rage of cold prevail,
In flakes they fly, or fall in moulded hail;
How honey-dews embalm the fragrant morn,
And the fair oak with lufcious fweats adorn ;
How heat and moisture mingle in a mafs,
Or belch in thunder, or in lightning blaze;
Why nimble corrufcations ftrike the eye,
And bold Tornados blufter in the fky;
Why a prolific Aura upwards tends,
Ferments, and in a living fhower defcends ;
How
vapours hanging on the towering hills
In breezes figh, or weep in warbling it's ;
Whence infant winds their tender pinions try,
And river-gods their thirfty urns fupply.
The wondering fage purfues his airy floht,
And braves the chill unwholefome damp of night:
He views the tracts where luminaries rove,
To fettle feafons here, and fates above;
The bleak Arcturus ftill forbid the feas,
The ftormy Kids, the weeping Hyades ;
The fhining Lyre with ftrains attracting more
Heaven's glittering manfions now than Hell's before; Glad Caffiopeia circling in the fky,
And each fair Churchill of the galaxy.
Aurora, on Etefian breezes borne,
With blufhing lips breathes out the fprightly morn:
Each flower in dew their fhort-liv'd empire weeps,
And Cynthia with her lov'd Endymion fleeps.
As through the gloom the Magus cuts his way,
Imperfect objects tell the doubtful day;
Dim he difcerns majestic Atlas rise,
And bend beneath the burden of the skies;
His towering brows aloft no tempefts know,
Whilft lightning flies, and thunder rolls below.
Diftant from hence beyond a waste of plains,
Proud Teneriff, his giant brother, reigns;
With breathing fire his pitchy noftrils glow,
As from his fides he flakes the fleecy fnow.
Around this hoary prince, from watery beds,
His fubject iflands raise their verdant heads;
The waves fo gently wash each rifing hill,
The land feems floating, and the ocean still.
Eternal Spring with fmiling verdure here
Warms the mild air, and crowns the youthful year.
From cryftal rocks tranfparent rivulets flow;
The tuberofe ever breathes, and violets blow.
The vine undrefs'd her fwelling clusters bears,
The labouring hind the mellow olive cheers ;
Bloffoms and fruit at once the citron fhows,
And, as the pays, discovers ftill fhe owes.
The orange to her fun her pride displays,
And gilds her fragrant apples with his rays.
No blafts e'er difcompofe the peaceful sky,
The fprings but murmur, and the winds but figh. 310 The tuneful fwans on gliding rivers float,
And warbling dirges die on every note.
Where Flora treads, her Zephyr garlands flings,
And fcatters odours from his purple wings;
Whilft birds from woodbine bowers and jasmine groves
Chant their glad nuptials, and unenvy'd loves.
Mild feasons, rifing hills, and filent dales,
Cool grottos, filver brooks, and flowery vales,
Groves fill'd with balmy fhrubs, in pomp appear,
And fcent with gales of fweets the circling year.
Thefe happy ifles, where endless pleasures wait,
Are ftil'd by tuneful bards-The Fortunate.
On high, where no hoarfe winds nor clouds refort,
The hoodwink'd Goddess keeps her partial court.
|