To the unknown AUTHOR of the MEDAL; and of ABSALOM and ACHITOPHEL.

THUS pious ignorance, with dubious praise,

Altars of old to Gods unknown did raife: They knew not the lov'd deity; they knew Divine effects a caufe divine did fhew;

Nor can we doubt, when fuch thefe numbers are, Such is their caufe, though the worst Mufe fhall dare Their facred worth in humble verfe declare.

As gentle Thames, charm'd with thy tuneful fong, Glides in a peaceful majefty along;

No rebel stone, no lofty bank, does brave
The easy paffage of his filent wave :

So, facred poet, fo thy numbers flow,
Sinewy, yet mild as happy lovers wooe;
Strong, yet harmonious too as planets move,
Yet foft as down upon the wings of love.
How fweet does virtue in your drefs appear;
How much more charming, when much less severe !
Whilft you our fenfes harmlessly beguile,

With all th' allurements of your happy stile;

Y' infinuate loyalty with kind deceit,
And into fenfe th' unthinking many cheat.
So the fweet Thracian with his charming lyre
Into rude nature virtue did infpire;

So he the favage herd to reafon drew,
Yet scarce so sweet, fo charmingly as you.

O that you would, with fome fuch powerful charm,
Enervate Albion to juft valour warm!

Whether much-suffering Charles fhall theme afford,
Or the great deeds of godlike James's sword.
Again fair Gallia might be ours, again
Another fleet might pass the subject main,
Another Edward lead the Britons on,
Or fuch an Offory as you did moan;

While in fuch numbers you, in fuch a strain,
Inflame their courage, and reward their pain.
Let falfe Achitophel the rout engage,

Talk eafy Abfalom to rebel rage;
Let frugal Shimei curse in holy zeal,
Or modeft Corah more new plots reveal;
Whilft conftant to himself, fecure of fate,
Good David ftill maintains the royal state.
Though each in vain fuch various ills employs,
Firmly he ftand, and ev'n thofe ills enjoys;
Firm as fair Albion, midst the raging main,
Surveys incircling danger with difdain.

In vain the waves affault the unmov'd fhore,
In vain the winds with mingled fury roar,
Fair Albion's beauteous cliffs fhine whiter than before.
Nor fhalt thou move, though hell thy fall confpire,
Though the worse rage of zeal's fanatic fire;
Thou beft, thou greatest of the British race,
Thou only fit to fill great Charles's place.

Ah, wretched Britons! ah, too ftubborn ifle!
Ah, ftiff-neck'd Ifrael on bleft Canaan's foil!

Are

Are those dear proofs of heaven's indulgence vain,
Reftoring David and his gentle reign ?

Is it in vain thou all the goods doft know,

Aufpicious ftars on mortals fhed below,

While all thy streams with milk, thy lands with honey flow?

No more, fond ifle! no more thyself engage

In civil fury, and intestine

rage:

No rebel zeal thy duteous land moleft,

But a smooth calm foothe every peaceful breast..
While in fuch charming notes divinely fings

The best of poets, of the best of kings.

J. ADAM'S..

To Mr. DRYDEN, on his RELIGIO LAICI.

THOSE Gods the pious ancients did adore,.
They learnt in verfe devoutly to implore,

Thinking it rude to use the common way
Of talk, when they did to fuch beings pray.
Nay, they that taught religion first, thought fit
In verfe its facred precepts to transmit:
So Solon too did his first statutes draw,
And every little ftanza was a law.
By these few precedents we plainly fee.
The primitive defign of poetry;
Which, by restoring to its native use,
You generously have refcued from abufe.

Whilft your lov'd Mufe does in sweet numbers fing,,

She vindicates her God, and godlike king,

Atheist, and rebel too, fhe does oppofe

(God and the king have always the fame foes).
Legions of verfe you raife in their defence,
And write the factious to obedience;
You the bold Arian to arms defy,
A conquering champion for the Deity
Against the whigs firft parents, who did dare
To difinherit God-Almighty's heir.

And what the hot-brain'd Arian first began,
Is carried on by the Socinian,

Who ftill affociates to keep God a man.

But 'tis the prince of poets' talk alone
T'affert the rights of God's and Charles's throne.
Whilft vulgar poets purchase vulgar fame

By chaunting Chloris' or fair Phyllis' name;

Whose reputation fhall laft as long,

As fops and ladies fing the amorous fong.

A nobler fubje&t wifely they refuse,

The mighty weight would crush their feeble Muse.
So, ftory tells, a painter once would try

With his bold hand to limn a deity :
And he, by frequent practifing that part,

Could draw a minor-god with wondrous art:
But when great Jove did to the workman fit,
The thunderer fuch horror did beget,

That put the frighted artist to a stand,
And made his pencil drop from 's baffled hand.

To

To Mr. DRYDEN, upon his Tranflation of the Third Book of VIRGIL'S GEORGICKS.

A PINDARIC ODE.

By Mr. JOHN DENNIS.

HILE mounting with expanded wings

WH

The Mantuan fwan unbounded heaven explores,

While with feraphic founds he towering fings,
Till to divinity he foars:

Mankind ftands wondering at his flight,
Charm'd with his musick, and his height:
Which both transcend our praife.
Nay Gods incline their ravish'd ears,
And tune their own harmonious fpheres,
To his melodious lays.

Thou, Dryden, canst his notes recite
In modern numbers, which exprefs
Their mufick, and their utmost might :
Thou, wondrous poet, with fuccefs
Canft emulate his flight.

II.

Sometimes of humble rural things,

Thy Mufe, which keeps great Maro still in fight,
In middle air with varied numbers fings;
And fometimes her fonorous flight

To heaven fublimely wings.

But first takes time with majesty to rise,
Then, without pride, divinely great,
She mounts her native skies;
And, Goddess like, retains her state
When down again the flies.

Com