THC

HOSE ills

Romans, are now become your own;
And they will cost you dear,

Unless you foon repair

The falling temples which the gods provoke,
And statues fully'd yet with facrilegious smoke.

your

Propitious heaven, that rais’d fathers high,
For humble, grateful piety,

(As it rewarded their respect)

Hath fharply punish'd your neglect;

All empires on the gods depend,

Begun by their command, at their command they end.

Let Craffus' ghoft and Labienus tell, How twice by Jove's revenge our legions fell, And, with unfulting pride,

Shining in Roman spoils, the Parthian victors ride.

The Scythian and Ægyptian scum

Had almoft ruin'd Rome,

While our feditions took their part,

Fill'd each Ægyptian fail, and wing'd each Scythian dart.

First,

First, those flagitious times

(Pregnant with unknown crimes)
Confpire to violate the nuptial bed,

From which polluted head

Infectious ftreams of crowding fins began,

And through the spurious breed and guilty nation ran.

Behold a ripe and melting maid,

Bound prentice to the wanton trade;

Ionian artists, at a mighty price,

Inftruct her in the myfteries of vice; What nets to spread, where subtle baits to lay, And with an early hand they form the temper'd clay.

Marry'd, their leffons fhe improves

By practice of adulterous loves,
And fcorns the common mean defign
To take advantage of her husband's wine,
Or fnatch, in fome dark place,
A hafty illegitimate embrace.

No! the brib'd husband knows of all,
And bids her rife when lovers call;
Hither a merchant from the straits,
Grown wealthy by forbidden freights,
Or city cannibal, repairs,

Who feeds upon the flesh of heirs ;
Convenient brutes, whofe tributary flame

Pays the full price of luft, and gilds the flighted shame.

'Twas

'Twas not the spawn of fuch as these, That dy'd with Punick blood the conquer'd feas, And quafh'd the stern Æacides;

Made the proud Asian monarch feel

How weak his gold was against Europe's steel,
Forc'd even dire Hannibal to yield;

And won the long-disputed world at Zama's fatal field.

But foldiers of a ruftic mould,

Rough, hardy, feafon'd, manly, bold.
Either they dug the stubborn ground,

Or through hewn woods their weighty ftrokes did found.
And after the declining fun

Had chang'd the fhadows, and their task was done, Home with their weary team they took their way, And drown'd in friendly bowls the labour of the day.

Time fenfibly all things impairs ;

Our fathers have been worse than theirs ;

And we than ours; next age will fee

A race more profligate than we

With all the pains we take) have skill enough to be.

Tranflation of the follwing Verfe from LUCAN.

Victrix Caufa Diis placuit, fed Victa Catoni.

THE gods were pleas'd to chufe the conquering fide, But Cato thought he conquer'd when he dy'd.

HOR A CE'S

ART OF POETRY.

"Scribendi rectè, fapere eft & principium & fons."

I HAVE feldom known a trick fucceed, and will put

none upon the reader; but tell him plainly that I think it could never be more feasonable than now to lay down fuch rules, as, if they be observed, will make men write more correctly, and judge more difcreetly but Horace must be read seriously or not at all; for elfe the reader won't be the better for him, and I fhall have loft my labour. I have kept as clofe as I could, both to the meaning and the words of the author, and done nothing but what I believe he would forgive if he were alive; and I have often asked myself that question. I know this is a field,

"Per quem magnus equos Auruncæ flexit Alumnus.”

But with all the refpe&t due to the name of Ben Jonfon, to which no man pays more veneration than I; it cannot be denied, that the constraint of rhyme, and a literal tranflation (to which Horace in this book declares himself an enemy), has made him want a comment in many places.

* Printed from Dr. Rawlinfon's copy, corrected by the Earl of Rofcommon's own hand.

My

My chief care has been to write intelligibly; and where the Latin was obfcure, I have added a line or two to explain it.

I am below the envy of the critics; but, if I durft, I would beg them to remember, that Horace owed his favour and his fortune to the character given of him by Virgil and Varius, that Fundanius and Pollio are ftill valued by what Horace fays of them, and that, in their golden age, there was a good understanding among the ingenious, and those who were the most efteemed were the best natured.

IF in a picture (Pifo) you should fee

A handfome woman with a fishes tail,

Or a man's head upon a horfe's neck,
Or limbs of beafts of the most different kinds,
Cover'd with feathers of all forts of birds,

Would you not laugh, and think the painter mad!
Truft me, that book is as ridiculous,

Whose incoherent style (like fick men's dreams)

Varies all shapes, and mixes all extremes.
Painters and Poets have been ftill allow'd
Their pencils, and their fancies unconfin'd.
This privilege we freely give and take;
But Nature, and the common laws of fenfe,
Forbid to reconcile Antipathies,

Or make a snake engender with a dove,
And hungry tigers court the tender lambs.

Some, that at first have promis'd mighty things,
Applaud themselves, when a few florid lines