what is in rhyme, will here find themselves disappointed. If they be pleased to read over the short preface before the Paradise Loft, Mr. Smith's poem in memory of his friend Mr. John Philips, and the Archbishop of Cambray's letter to Monfieur Fontenelle, they may probably be of another opinion. For my own part, I fhall not be ashamed to follow the example of Milton, Philips, Thomson, and all our best tragick writers.
Some few terms of art are dispersed here and there; but fuch only as are absolutely requifite to explain my fubject. I hope in this the criticks will excufe me; for I am humbly of opinion, that the affectation, and not the neceffary use, is the proper object of their cenfure.
But I have done. I know the impatience of my brethren, when a fine day, and the concert of the kennel, invite them abroad. I fhall therefore leave my reader to fuch diverfion as he may find in the poem itfelf.
"Rumpe moras; vocat ingenti clamore Citharon, "Taygetique canes, domitrixque Epidaurus equorum; "Et vox affenfu nemorum ingeminata remugit." VIRG. Georg. iii.
Caft far behind the lingering cares of life.
Citharon calls aloud, and in full cry
Thy hounds, Taygetus. Epidaurus trains
For us the generous steed; the hunter's shouts,
And chearing cries, affenting woods return.
HILE you, Sir, gain the steep afcent to fame,
And honours due to deathlefs merit claim;
To a weak Mufe a kind indulgence.lend,
Fond with just praise your labours to commend,
And tell the world that Somervile's her friend.
Her incenfe guiltlefs of the forms of art
Breathes all the huntfman's honefty of heart;
Whole fancy fill the pleafing feene retains
Of Edric's villa and Ardenna's plains:
Joys, which from change fuperior charms receiv'd,
The horn hoarfe founding by the lyre reliev'd :
When the day crown'd with rural chaste delight,
Refigns obfequious to the feftive night;
The feftive night awakes th' harmonious lay,
And in sweet verfe recounts the triumphs of the day.
Strange! that the British Mufe fhould leave fo long,
The Chace, the fport of Britain's kings, unfung!
Diftinguish'd land! by Heaven indulg'd to breed
The ftout, fagacious hound, and generous fteed;
In vain while yet no bard adorn'd our ifle,
To celebrate the glorious fylvan toil.
For this what darling fon fhall feel thy fire,
God of th' unerring bow, and tuneful lyre?
Our vows are heard-Attend, ye vocal throng,
Somervile meditates th' adventurous fong.
Bold to attempt, and happy to excel,
His numerous verse the huntsman's art shall tell.
From him, ye British youths, a vigorous race,
Imbibe the various fcience of the chace;
And while the well-plann'd fyftem you admire,
Know Brunswick only could the work inspire;
A Georgick Muse awaits Auguftan days,
And Somerviles will fing, when Fredericks give the bays.
NCE more, my friend, I touch the trembling lyre,
And in my bofom feel poetic fire.
For thee I quit the law's more rugged ways,
To pay my humble tribute to thy lays,
What, though I daily turn each learned fage,
And labour through the unenlighten'd page:
Wak'd by thy lines, the borrow'd flames I feel,
As flints give fire when aided by the steel.
Though in fulphureous clouds of smoke confin'd,
Thy rural scenes fpring fresh into my mind.
Thy genius in fuch colours paints the chace,
The real to fictitious joys give place.
When the wild mufick charms my ravish'd ear,
How dull, how taftelefs Handel's notes appear
Ev'n Farinelli's felf the palm refigns,
He yields-but to the musick of thy lines.
If friends to poetry can yet be found;
Who without blushing sense prefer to found;
Then let this soft, this foul-enfeebling band,
These warbling minstrels, quit the beggar'd land.
They but a momentary joy impart,
'Tis you, who touch the foul, and warm the heart.
How tempting do thy fylvan sports appear!
Ev'n wild Ambition might vouchsafe an ear,
Might her fond luft of power a while compofe,
And gladly change it for thy sweet repose.
No fierce, unruly fenates, threaten here,
No axe, no scaffold, to the view appear,
No envy, difappointment, and despair.
Here, bleft viciffitude, whene'er you pleafe,
You ftep from exercise to learned ease:
Turn o'er each claffic page, each beauty trace,
The mind unwearied in the pleasing chace.
Oh! would kind Heaven fuch happiness bestow,
Let fools, let knaves, be masters here below.
Grandeur and place, those baits to catch the wife,
And all their pageant train, I pity and defpife.
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