Thus grac'd, the man asserts a poet's name, And the world cheerfully admits the claim. A skilful guide into poetic ground! The flow'rs would spring where'er she deign'd to stray, And ev'ry muse attend her in her way. Virtue indeed meets many a rhiming friend, And many a compliment politely penn'd; Religion weaves for her, and half undress'd, A wintry figure, like a wither'd thorn. In tales, in trifles, and in children's play; And 'tis the sad complaint, and almost true, Whate'er we write, we bring forth nothing new. "Twere new indeed to see a bard all fire, Touch'd with a coal from heav'n, assume the lyre, And tell the world, still kindling as he sung, With more than mortal music on his tongue, That He, who died below, and reigns above, Inspires the song, and that his name is love. For, after all, if merely to beguile, By flowing numbers and a flow'ry style, Which now and then sweet poetry may cure; Stamp'd on the well-bound quarto, grace the shelf, To float a bubble on the breath of fame, Prompt his endeavour, and engage his aim, How are the pow'rs of genius misapplied! To trace him in his word, his works, his ways! Then spread the rich discov'ry, and invite Mankind to share in the divine delight. Distorted from its use and just design, To make the pitiful possessor shine, Proof of a trifling and a worthless mind. A. Hail Sternhold, then; and Hopkins, hail! B. Amen. If flatt'ry, folly, lust, employ the pen; If acrimony, slander, and abuse, Give it a charge to blacken and traduce; Though Butler's wit, Pope's numbers, Prior's ease, With all that fancy can invent to please, One madrigal of their's is worth them all. A. 'Twould thin the ranks of the poetic tribe, To dash the pen through all that you proscribe. B. No matter-we could shift when they were not; And should, no doubt, if they were all forgot. THE PROGRESS OF ERROR. Si quid loquar audiendum. HoR. Lib. 4. Od. 2. SING, muse, (if such a theme, so dark, so long, May find a muse to grace it with a song) By what unseen and unsuspected arts The serpent error twines round human hearts; The pois'nous, black, insinuating worm Not all, whose eloquence the fancy fills, Musical as the chime of tinkling rills, Weak to perform, though mighty to pretend, Like quicksilver, the rhet'ric they display Man may improve the crisis, or abuse; Say, to what bar amenable were man? And, if he fell, would fall because he must; His recompense is both unjust alike. |