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Fruitless our hopes, though pious our essays, To him for casu retires from toils of state,
Yours to preserve a friend, and mine to praise. Not half so proud to govern, as translate.

Oh! might I paine him in Miltonian verse, Our Spenser, firft by Pisan poets taught,
With strains like those he sung on Glo'ster's herse; To us their cales, their ftyle, and bumbers
But with the meaner tribe I'm forc'd to chime,

brought. And, wanting strength to rise, descend to rhyme. To follow ours, now Tuscan bards descend,

With other fire his glorious Blenheim shines, From Philips borrow, though to Spenser lend, And all the battle thunders in his lines :

Like Philips too the yoke of rhyme disdain ; His nervous verse great Boileau's strength tran- They first on English bards impos'd the chain, scends,

Firlt by an English bard from rhync their freeAnd France to Philips, as to Churchill, bends.

dom gain. Oh! various bard, you all our powers control, Tyrannic rhyme, that cramps to equal chime You now difturb, and now divert the soul : The gay,

the soft, the florid, and fublime : Milton and Butler in thy muse combine ;

Some say this chain the doubtful sense decides, Above the last thy manly beauties thine;

Confines the fancy, and the judgment guides : For, as I've seen, when rival wits contend, I'm sure in needless bonds it poets ties, One gaily charge, one gravely wise defend; Procruftes like, the ax or wheel applics, This on quick turns and points in vain relies, To lop the mangled sense, or stretch it into size: with a look demure, and steady eyes, At best a crutch, that lifts the weak along, With dry rebukes, or sneering praise, replies. Supports the feeble, but retards the strong; So thy grave lines extort a juster smile,

And the chance thoughts, when govern'd by the Reach Butler's fancy, but surpass his style ;

close, He speaks Scarron's low phrase in humble strains, Oft rise to fuftain, or descend to prose. In thee the solemn air of great Cervantes reigns. Your judgment, Philips, rul’d with steady fway,

What founding lines his abject themes express! You us'd nu curbing rhyme, the Muse to fay, What shining words the pompous fhilling dress! To stop her fury, or dired her way. There, there iny cell, immortal made, butvics Thee on the wing thy uncheck'd vigor bore, The frailer piles which o'er its ruins rise. To wapton freely, or fecurely foar. In her best light the Comic Muse appears,

So the stretch'd cord the Mhackle-dancer tries, When she, with borrow'd pride, the bulkin wears. As prone to fall, as impotent to rise : So when nurse Nokcs, to act young Ammon When freed he moves, the sturdy cable bende, trics,

He mounts with plcafure, and secure descends;
With shambling legs, long chin, and foolish eyes, Now dropping feems to strike the distant ground,
With dangling hands he strokes th' imperial robe, Now high in air his quivering feet rebound.
And, with a cuckold's air, commands the globe; Rail on, ye triflers, who to Will's repair
The pomp and found the whole buffoon display'd, For new lampoons, fresh cant, or modifh air ;
And Ammon's son more mirth than Gomez made Rail on at Milton's son, who wisely bold

Forgive, dear Ibade, the scene my folly draws ; Rejects new phrases, and resumes the old:
Thy ftrains divert the grief thy ashes cause : Thus Chaucer lives in younger Spenser's strains,
When Orpheus fings, the ghosts no more coni In Maro's page reviving Ennius reigns;

The ancient words the Majesty complete,
But, in his lulling music, lose their pain:

And make the poem venerably great: So charm the fallies of thy Georgic Muse, So when the queen in royal habit's dreft, So calm our sorrows, and our joys infuse : Old mystic emblems grace th' imperial vest, Here rural notes a gentle mirth infpire,

And in Eliza's robes all Anna Nands confeft. Here lofty lines the kindling reader fire;

A haughty bard, to fame by volumes rais'd, Like that fair tree you praise, the poem charms, At Dick's, and Batson's, and through Smithfield, Cools like the fruit, or like the juice it warms.

prais'd, Bles clime, which Vaga's fruitful streams im- Cries out aloud -Bold Oxford bard, forbear prove,

With rugged numbers to torment my car ; Etruria's envy, and her Cosmo's love;

Yet not like thee the heavy critic soars, Redstreak he quaffs beneath the Chiant vine, But paints in fuftian, or in turn deplores; Gives Tuscan yearly for thy Scudmore's wine, With Bunyan's style profanes heroic songs, And ev'n his Taffo would exchange for thine. To the tenth page lean homilies prolongs; Rift, rise, Roscommon, kee the Blenheim Mufe For far-fetch'd shymes makes puzzled angels The dull constraint of monkish rhyme refule;

ftrain, Sec, o'er the Alps his towering pinions soar, And in low prose dull Lucifer complain : Where never Englith poet reach'd before : His envious Muse, by native dulness curst, See mighty Cosmo's counsellor and friend, Damns the best poems, and contrives the work, By turns on Cosmo and the Bard attend;

Beyond his praise or blame thy works prevail Rich in the coins and busts of ancient Rome, Complete where Dryden and thy Milton fail; In him he brings a nobler treasure home; Great Milton's wing on lower themes sublides, In them he views her gods, and domes design'd; And Dryden oft in rhynie his weakness hides; la him the soul of Rome, and Virgil's mighty You ne'er with jingling words deceive the car,

And yet, on humble subjects, great appear.



Quin nune requiris tecta virentia

Did ever Greece or Rome such laurels wear, Nini ferocis, nunc Babel arduum,

As crown'd the lait auspicious year! Immane opus, crescentibúsque

When first at Blenheim ANNE her enkz: Vertice lideribus propinquum.

spread, Nequicquam : Amici disparibus sonis

And Marlborough to the field the horią Eludit aures nescius artifex,

squadrons led. Linguá que miratur recentes

In vain the hills and streams oppose, In patriis peregrinus oris.

In vain the hollow ground in faithless hillocksrk Vestitur hinc tot sermo coloribus,

To the rough Danube's winding there, Quot tu, Pococki, diffimilis cui

His thacter'd foes the conquering bero bore. Orator effers, quot vicissim Te memores celebrare gaudent.

They see with flaring haggard eyes Hi non tacebunt quo Syriam senex

The rapid torrent roll, the foaming billows rif; Percurrit æltu raptus, ut arcibus

Amaz'd, aghalt, they turn, but fiod, Non jam fuperbis, et verendis

In Mariborough's arms, a lurer face behind. Indoluit Solimæ ruinis.

Now his red sword aloft impends, Quis corda pulsans tunc pavor hauserat

Now on their fhrinking head descends : Dolor quis ar lit non fine gaudio,

Wild and distracted with their fears, Cum busta Christi provolutus

They juftling plunge anidit the founding deeps; Ambiguis iacrymis rigaret!

The food away the Aruggling squadron sweeps Sacratur arbos multa Pocockio,

And men, and arms, and hories, whirling beurs Locolque nionstrans inquiet accola.

The frighted Danube to the sea retreats, Hæc quercus Holeam supinum,

The Danube foon the dying ocean meets, Hæc Britonem recreavit ornus.

Flying the thunder of great ANNA's ficets. Hic audierunt gens venerabilem Ebræa Mofen, inde PococKIUM

Rooke on the scas asserts her sway, Non ore, non annis minorem,

Flames o'er the trembling ocean play, Atque suam didicere linguam.

And clouds of smoke involve the day. Ac ficut albens perpetuâ nive

Affrighted Europe hears the cannons roar, Simul favillas, et cineres sinu

And Afric echoes from its distant fhore, Eructar ardenti, et pruinis

The French, unequal in the fight, Contiguas rotat Ætna flammas;

In force superior, take their fight. Sic te trementem, te nive candidum

Factions in vain the hero's worth dccry, Mens intus urget, mens agit ignea

In vain the vanquish'd triumph, while they is. Sequi reluctantem loëlem Per tonitru, aërcalque nubes

Now, Janus, with a future view, Annon pavelcis, dum iuba pallidum

The glories of her reign survey, Ciet Sionem, dum tremulum polo

Which shall o'er France her arms difplay, Caligat aftrum, atque incubanti

And kingdums now her own fubdue. Terra nigrans tegitur sub umbrâ ?

Lewis, for oppression born; Quod agmen : heu quis turma fequacibus

Lewis in his turn, thall mourn, Tremenda flammis: quis ftrepitantium

While his conquer'd happy lwains, Flictus rotarum eft! 0 Pococki

Shal: hug their easy wish'd-for chains, Egregie, O animofe Vatis

Others, ensav'd by victory, Interpres abftruli, o iimili ferè

Their subjects, as their foes, oppress; Correpte flammâ, te, quot imagine

ANNA conquers but to free,
Crucis notantur, te, tubacto

And governs but to bless.
Christicolæ gravis Ottumannus
Gemens requirit, te Babylonii
Narrant puétæ, te pharetris Arabs
Plorat revullis, et fragolos
Jam gravior ferit horror agros.

0 D E *.
Quà Celta nondum cognita Cæsaris,
Quà nec Matronis scripta, Pocockius

OxMond's glory, Marlborough's arms, Plorator ingens, et dolenda

All the mouths of Fame employ;
Neftorea brevitas senecta.

And th' applauding world around
Echoes back the pleasing found :

Their courage warms;

Their conduct charms;

Yet the universal joy

Feels a senüble alloy!

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Mighty George t, the Senate's care,

Myriads of spirits, forms divine, The people's love, great Anna's prayer!

The Seraphim, with the bright hoft While the Otroke of fate we dread

Of Angels, Thrones, and Heavenly Powers, Impending o'er thy sacred head,

Worship before th' Eternal Shrine; The British youth for thee submit to fear, Their happy privilege in hymns and anthems for her the dames in cloudy grief appear !


In love and wonder pass their blissful hours.
Let the noise of war and joy
Rend again the trembling sky;

Nor let the lower world repine
Great George revives to calm our fears,

The mally orb in which we suggards move With profpe&t of more glorious years :

As if fequefter'd from the arts divine : Deriv'd from Anne's auspicious smiles,

Here's Music too, More cheerful airs refresh the British Isles.

As ours a rival were to th' world above.

Chorus, Five Voices.
Sound the trumpet; beat the drum;
Tremble France; we come, we come!

Hark, how the feather'd choir their mattins chant, Almighty force our courage warms;

And purling Atreams soft accents vent, We feel the full, the powerful charms

And all both time and measure know. f Ormond's glory, and of Marlborough's arms ! Ere since the Theban bard, to prove

The wondrous magic of his art,
Taught trees and forests how to move,
All Nature has a general concert held,

Each creature strives to bear a part; (yield. ODE IN PRAISE OF MUSIC

And all but Death and Hell to conquering Music

Bat stay, I hear methinks a motley crew,

A peevish, odd, eccen:ric race,
In Five Parts,

The glory of the art debase ;

Perhaps because the sacred cmblem 'tis TOR THE DEGREE OF BATCHELOR OF MUSIC; Of Truth, of Peace, and Order too;

So dangerous 'tis to be perversely wise. 21 Performed at the Theatre in Oxford, on Friday But be they ever in the wrong, the 11tb of July 1707.

Who say the Prophet's harp e'er spoil'd the Poet's

song! Music, soft charm of Heaven and Earth, Whence didst thou borrow thy auspicious birth?

Grand Chorus, Five Parts. Or art thou of eternal date? jire to thyself, thyself as old as Fate,

To Athen's now, my Muse, retire, Ere the rude ponderous mass

The refuge and the theatre of wit;

And in that safe and sweet retreat,
Đf earth and waters from their chaos sprang
The morning stars their anthems sang,

Amongst Apollo's sons inquire,
And nought in Heaven was heard but melody and And see if any friend of thine be there :

But sure so near the Thespian spring

The humbleft Bard may fit and sing : + George Prince of Denmark, husband to the Queen.

Here rest my Muse, and dwell for ever here.


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Sometimes we Virgil's facred leaves turn o'er,
Still wondering, and still finding cause for more.
When Nisus and Euryalus we admire,

Their gentle friendship, and their martial fire,
We praise their valour, 'cause yet match'd by none,
And love their friend/hip, so much like our own.
But when to give our minds a feast indeed,
Horace, beft known and lou'd by thee, we read,
Who can our transports, or our longings tell
To taste of pleasures, prais'd by him so well?




Anno 1793.

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