Blank verse is now, with one consent, allied
To Tragedy, and rarely quits her side.
Though mad Almanzor rhymed in Dryden's days,
No sing-song hero rants in modern plays;
While modest Comedy her verse foregoes
For jest and pun* in very middling prose.
Not that our Bens or Beaumonts show the worse,
Or lose one point, because they wrote in verse,
But so Thalia pleases to appear,

Poor virgin! damn'd some twenty times a year!

Whate'er the scene, let this advice have weight:
Adapt your language to your hero's state.
At times Melpomene forgets to groan,
And brisk Thalia takes a serious tone;
Nor unregarded will the act pass by
Where angry Townly lifts his voice on high,
Again our Shakspeare limits verse to kings,
When common prose will serve for common things;
And lively Hal resigns heroic ire,

To "hollowing Hotspur"† and the sceptred sire.

'Tis not enough, ye bards, with all your art,
To polish poems; they must touch the heart:
Where'er the scene be laid, whate'er the song,
Still let it bear the hearer's soul along;
Command your audience or to smile or weep,
Whiche'er may please you-any thing but sleep.
The poet claims our tears; but, by his leave,
Before I shed them, let me see him grieve.

If banish'd Romeo feign'd nor sigh nor tear,
Lull'd by his languor, I should sleep or sneer.
Sad words, no doubt, become a serious face,
And men look angry in the proper place.
At double meanings folks seem wondrous sly,
And sentiment prescribes a pensive eye;
For nature form'd at first the inward man,
And actors copy nature-when they can.

Quo scribi possent numero monstravit Homerus.
Versibus impariter junctis querimonia primum;
Post etiam inclusa est voti sententia compos.
Quis tamen exiguos elegos emiserit auctor,
Grammatici certant, et adhuc sub judice lis est.
Archilochum proprio rabies armavit iambo;
Hunc socci cepere pedem, grandesque cothurni,
Alternis aptum sermonibus, et populares
Vincentem strepitus, et natum rebus agendis.
Musa dedit fidibus divos, puerosque deorum,
Et pugilem victorem, et equum certamine primum,
Et juvenum curas, et libera vina referre.

Descriptas servare vices operumque colores, Cur ego, si noqueo ignoroque, poeta salutor? Cur nescire, pudens prave, quam discere malo?

Versibus exponi tragicis res comica non vult, Indignatur item privatis, ac prope socco Dignis carminibus narrari cœna Thyestæ. Singula quæque locum teneant sortita decenter Interdum tamen et vocem comœdia tollit, Iratusque Chremes tumido delitigat ore: Et tragicus plerumque dolet sermone pedestri. Telephus et Peleus, cum pauper et exsul, uterque Projicit ampullas et sesquipedalia verba,

Si curat cor spectantis tetigisse querela. [sunto, Non satis est pulchra esse poemata; dulcia Et, quocunque volent, animum auditoris agunto. Ut ridentibus arrident, ita flentibus adflent

• With all the vulgar applause and critical abhorrence of puns, they have Aristotle on their side, who permits them to orators, and gives them conse. quence by a grave disquisition.

"And in his ear I'll hollow Mortimer!"-1 Henry IV.

She bids the beating heart with rapture bound,
Raised to the stars, or levell'd with the ground;
And for expression's aid, 'tis said, or sung,
She gave our mind's interpreter-the tongue,
Who, worn with use, of late would fain dispense
(At least in theatres) with common sense;
O'erwhelm with sound the boxes, gallery, pit,
And raise a laugh with any thing but wit.

To skilful writers it will much import,

Whence spring their scenes, from common life or court;

Whether they seek applause by smile or tear,
To draw a "Lying Valet," or a "Lear,"
A sage, or rakish youngster wild from school,
A wandering "Peregrine," or plain "John Bull;"
All persons please, when nature's voice prevails,
Scottish or Irish, born in Wilts or Wales.

Or follow common fame, or forge a plot: Who cares if mimic heroes lived or not? One precept serves to regulate the scene: Make it appear as if it might have been.

If some Drawcansir you aspire to draw,
Present him raving, and above all law :
If female furies in your scheme are plann'd,
Macbeth's fierce dame is ready to your hand;
For tears and treachery, for good or evil,
Constance, King Richard, Hamlet, and the Devil.
But if a new design you dare essay,
And freely wander from the beaten way,
True to your characters, till all be past,
Preserve consistency from first to last.

'Tis hard to venture where our betters fail,
Or lend fresh interest to a twice-told tale
And yet, perchance, 'tis wiser to prefer
A hackney'd plot, than choose a new, and err;

Humani vultus: si vis me flere, dolendum est
Primum ipsi tibi; tunc tua me infortunia lædent.
Telephe, vel Peleu, male si mandata loqueris,
Aut dormitabo, aut ridebo: tristia mostum
Vultum verba decent; iratum, plena minarum,
Ludentem, lasciva; severum, seria dictu.
Format enim natura prius nos intus ad omnem
Fortunarum habitum; juvat, aut impellit ad iram;
Aut ad humum mærore gravi deducit, et angit;
Post effert animi motus interprete lingua.
Si dicentis erunt fortunis absona dictă,
Romani tollent equites peditesque cachinnum.
Intererit multum, Davusne loquatur an heros;
Maturusne senex, ad anhuc florente juventa
Fervidus: an matrona potens, and sedula nutrix;
Mercatorne vagus, cultorne virentis agelli;
Colchus an Assyrius; Thebis nutritus, an Argis
Aut famam sequere, aut sibi convenientia finge
Scriptor honoratum si forte reponis Achillem ;
Impiger, iracundus, inexorabillis, acer,
Jura neget sibi nata, nihil non arroget armis.
Sit Medea ferox invictaque, filelilis Ino;
Perfidus Ixion; Io vaga; tristis Orestes;
Si quid inexpertum scenæ committis, et audes
Personam formare novam; servetur ad imum
Qualis ab incepto processerit, et sibi constet.

Difficile est proprie communia dicere; tuque
Rectius Iliacum carmen deducis in actus,
Quam si proferres ignota indictaque primus.
Publica materies privati juris erit, si
Nec circa vilem patulumque moraberis orbem :
Nec verbum verbo curabis reddere fidus
Interpres, nec desilies imitator in arctum

Then may Euphrosyne, who sped the past,

Instruct how hard the medium 'tis to hit

But find in thine, like pagan* Plato's bed, Some merry manuscript of mimes, when dead.

Now to the Drama let us bend our eyes,
Where fetter'd by whig Walpole low she lies;
Corruption foil'd her, for she fear'd her glance;
Decorum left her for an opera dance!

Yet +Chesterfield, whose polish'd pen inveighs
'Gainst laughter, fought for freedom to our plays;
Uncheck'd by megrims of patrician brains,
And damning dullness of lord chamberlains.
Repeal that act! again let Humor roam
Wild o'er the stage-we've time for tears at home;
Let "Archer" plant the horns on "Sullen's" brows,
And "Estifania" gull her "
gull her "Copper" spouse;
The moral's scant-but that may be excused,
Men go not to be lectured, but amused.
He whom our plays dispose to good or ill
Must wear a head in want of Willis' skill;
Ay, but Macheath's example-psha!—no more!
It form'd no thieves-the thief was form❜d before,
And spite of puritans and Collier's curse,§
Plays make mankind no better, and no worse.
Then spare our stage, ye methodistic men!
Nor burn damn'd Drury if it rise again.
But why to brain-scorch'd bigots thus appeal!
Can heavenly mercy dwell with earthly zeal ?
For times of fire and fagot let them hope:
Times dear alike to puritan or pope.
As pious Calvin saw Servetus blaze,

So would new sects on newer victims gaze,
E'en now the songs of Solyma begin;
Faith cants, perplex'd apologist of sin!
While the Lord's servant chastens whom he loves,
And Simeon kicks, where ||Baxter only "shoves."

Whom nature guides, so writes, that every dunce
Enraptured, thinks to do the same at once;
But after inky thumbs and bitten nails,
And twenty scatter'd quires, the coxcomb fails.

Let pastoral be dumb; for who can hope
To match the youthful eclogues of our Pope?
Yet his and Phillips' faults, of different kind,
For art too rude, for nature too refined,

Ex noto fictum carmen sequar, ut sibi quivis Speret idem: sudet multum frustraque laboret Ausus idem tantum series juncturaque pollet; Tantum de medio sumtis accedit honoris.

Silvis deducti caveant, me judice, Fauni, Ne, velut innati triviis ac pene forenses, Aut nimium teneris juvenentur versibus unquam, Aut immunda crepent, ignominiosaque dicta. [res: Offenduntur enim, quibus est equus, et pater, et Nec, si quid fricti ciceris probat et nucis emtor,

* Under Plato's pillow a volume of the Mimes of Sophron was found the day he died.-Vide Barthelemi, De Pauw, or Diogenes Laertius, if agreeable. De Pauw calls it a jest book.-Cumberland, in his Observer, terms it moral, like the sayings of "Publius Cyrus."

↑ His speech on the licensing act is one of his most eloquent efforts.

‡ Michael Perez, the "Copper Captain," in "Rule a Wife and have a Wife."

§ Jerry Collier's controversy with Congreve, &c. on the subject of the drama, is too well known to require further comment.

"Baxter's shove to heavy-a-d Christians." The veritable title of a Scok once in good repute, and likely enough to be so again.-Mr. Simeon is the very bully of beliefs, and castigator of "good works." He is ably supported by John Stickles, a laborer in the same vineyard:-but I say no more, er according to Johnny in full congregation, "No hope for them as hughs."

A vulgar scribbler, certes, stands disgraced
In this nice age, when all aspire to taste;
The dirty language, and the noisome jest,
Which pleased in Swift of yore, we now detest;
Proscribed not only in the world polite,
But even too nasty for a city knight!

Peace to Swift's faults! his wit hath made them pass

Unmatched by all, save matchless Hudibras !
Whose author is perhaps the first we meet,
Who from our couplet lopp'd two final feet;
Nor less in merit than the longer line,
This measure moves a favorite of the Nine.
Though at first view eight feet may seem in vain
Form'd, save in ode, to bear a serious strain,
Yet Scott has shown our wondering isle of late,
This measure shrinks not from a theme of weight
And, varied skillfully, surpasses far
Heroic rhyme, but most in love and war,
Whose fluctuations, tender or sublime,
Are curb'd too much by long-recurring rhyme

But many a skilful judge abhors to see,
What few admire-irregularity.

This some vouchsafe to pardon; but 'tis hard,
When such a word contents a British bard.

And must the bard his glowing thoughts confire,
Lest censure hover o'er some faulty line?
Remove whate'er a critio may suspect,
To gain the paltry suffrage of “correct?”
To fly from error, not to merit praise ?
Or prune the spirit of each daring phrase,

Ye who seek finish'd models, never cease,
By day and night, to read the works of Greece.
But our good fathers never bent their brains
To heathen Greek, content with native strains.
The few who read a page, or used a pen,
Were satisfied with Chaucer and old Ben;
The jokes and numbers suited to their taste
Were quaint and careless, any thing but chaste,
Yet whether right or wrong the ancient rules,
It will not do to call our fathers fools!

Equis accipiunt animis, donantve corona.
Syllaba longa brevi subjecta vocatur iambus,
Pes citus: unde etiam trimetris accrescere jussit
Nomen iambeis, cum senos redderet ictus,
Primus ad extremum similis sibi: non ita pridem
Tardior ut paulo graviorque veniret ad aures,
Spondeos stabiles in jura paterna recepit
Commodus et patiens; non ut de sede secundâ
Cederet aut quarta socialiter. Hic et in Acci
Nobilibus trimetris apparet rarus, et Ennî.
In scenam missos magno cum pondere versus,
Aut operæ celeris nimium curaque carentis,
Aut ignoratæ premit artis crimine turpi.

Non quivis videt immodulata poemata judex;
Et data Romanis venia est indigna poetis.
Idcircone vager, scribamque licenter, ut omnes
Visuros peccata putem mea, tutus, et intra
Spem venia cautus? vitavi denique culpam,
Non laudem merui. Vos exemplaria Græca
Nocturna versate manu, versate diurna.
At vestri proavi Plautinos et numeros et
Laudavere sales; nimium patienter utrumque,
Ne dicam stulte, mirati; si modo ego et vos
Scimus inurbanum lepido se ponere dicto.

Though you and I, who eruditely know
To separate the elegant and low,
Can also, when a hobbling line appears,
Detect with fingers in default of ears.

In sooth I do not know or greatly care

To learn, who our first English strollers were;
Or if, till roofs recived the vagrant art,
Our muse, like that of Thespis, kept a cart.
But this is certain, since our Shakspeare's days,
There's pomp enough, if little else, in plays;
Nor will Melpomene ascend her throne

With little rhyme, less reason, if you please,
The name of poet may be got with ease,
So that not tuns of helleboric juice
Shall ever turn your head to any use;
Write but like Wordsworth, live beside a lake,
And keep your bushy locks a year from Blake;*
Then print your book, once more return to town,
And boys shall hunt your bardship up and down.
Am I not wise, if such some poets' plight,
To purge in spring (like Bayes) before I write ?
If this précaution soften'd, not my bile,

I know no scribbler, with a madder style;

Old comedies still meet with much applause,
Though too licentious for dramatic laws:
At least, we moderns, wisely, 'tis confest,
Curtail, or silence, the lascivious jest.

Whate'er their follies, and their faults beside,
Our enterprising bards pass nought untried;
Nor do they merit slight applause who choose
An English subject for an English muse,
And leave to minds which never dare invent
French flippancy and German sentiment.
Where is that living language which could claim
Poetic more, as philosophic, fame,

If all our bards, more patient of delay,
Would stop, like Pope, to polish by the way?

Lords of the quill, whose critical assaults
O'erthrow whole quartos with their quires of faults,
Who soon detect, and mark where'er we fail,
And prove our marble with too nice a nail!
Democritus himself was not so bad ;

He only thought, but you would make us mad!

But, truth to say, most rhymers rarely guard
Against that ridicule they deem so hard;
In person negligent, they wear, from sloth,
Beards of a week, and nails of annual growth;
Reside in garrets, fly from those they meet,
And walk in alleys, rather than the street.

Legitimumque sonum digitis callemus et aure. Ignotum tragicæ genus invenisse Camenæ Dicitur, et plaustris vexisse poemata Thespis, Quæ canerent agerentque peruncti fæcibus ora. Post hunc personæ pallæque repertor honestæ Eschylus, et modicis instravit pulpita tignis, Et docuit magnumque loqui, nitique cothurno. Successit vetus his comœdia, non sine multa Laude; sed in vitium libertas excidit, et vim Dignam lege regi; lex est accepta; chorusque Turpiter obticuit, sublato jure noecndi.

Nil intentatum nostri liquere poetæ ; Nec minimum meruere decus, vestigia Græca Ausi deserere, et celebrare domestica facta, Vel qui prætextas, vel qui docuere togatas. Nec virtute foret clarisve potentius armis, Quam lingua, Latium, si non offenderet unumquemque poetarum limæ labor et mora. Vos, ô Pompilius sanguis, carmen reprehendite, quod non Multa dies et multa litura coercuit, atque Preæsectum decies non castigavit ad unguem. Ingenium misera quia fortunatius arte Credit, et excludit sanos Helicone poetas Democritus; bona pars non ungues ponere curat Non barbam; secreta petit loca, balnea vitat. Nanciscetur enim pretium nomenque poetæ, Si tribus Anticyris caput insanabile nunquam Tonsori Licino commiserit. O ego lævus,

I cannot purchase fame at such a price,
I'll labor gratis as a grinder's wheel,
And, blunt myself, give edge to others' steel,
Nor write at all, unless to teach the art,
To those rehearsing for the poet's part;
From Horace show the pleasing paths of song,
And from my own example, what is wrong.
Though modern practice sometimes differs quite,
'Tis just as well to think before you write;
Let every book that suits your theme be read,
So shall you trace it to the fountain-head.

He who has learnt the duty which he owes
To friend and country, and to pardon foes;
Who models his deportment as may best
Accord with brother, sire, or stranger guest;
Who takes our laws and worship as they are,
Nor roars reform for senate, church, and bar;
In practice, rather than loud precept, wise,
Bids not his tongue, but heart, philosophize
Such is the man the poet should rehearse,
As joint exemplar of his life and verse.

Sometimes a sprightly wit and tale well told,
Without much grace, or weight, or art, will hold
A longer empire o'er the public mind
Than sounding trifles, empty, though refined.

Unhappy Greece! thy sons of ancient days, The muse may celebrate with perfect praise,

Qui purgor bilem sub verni temporis horam !
Non alius faceret meliora poemata: verum
Nil tanti est: ergo fungar vice cotis, acutum
Reddere quæ ferrum valet, exsors ipsa secandi:
Munus et officium, nil scribens ipse, docebo ;
Unde parentur opes; quid alat formetque poetam
Quid deceat, quid non; quo virtus, quo ferat error

Scribendi recte sapere est et principium et fons Rem tibi Socraticæ poterunt ostendere chartæ : Verbaque provisam rem non invita sequentur. Quid didicit patriæ quid debeat, et quid amicis ; Quo sit amore parens, quo frater amandus, et hospes ;

Quod sit conscripti, quod judicis officium; quæ Partes in bellum missi ducis; ille profecto Reddere personæ scit convenientia cuique. Respicere exemplar vitæ morumque jubebo Doctum imitatorem, et vivas hinc ducere voces. Interdum speciosa locis morataque recte Fabula, nullius veneris, sine pondere et arte, Valdius oblectat populum, meliusque moratur, Quam, versus inopes rerum, nugæque canoræ. Graiis ingenium, Graiis dedit ore rotundo Musa loqui, præter laudem nullius avaris.