Dr. Lowth.

"

„Griev'd with the prefent; of the past asham'd, They live, and are defpif'd: they die, nor more are nam'd.

XXI.

,,But with the gods, and godlike men I dwell: ,,Me, his fupreme delight, th' almighty Sire

Regards well pleas'd: whatever works excel, „All or divine or human, I inspire.

"

Counsel with ftrength, and industry with art, „In union meet conjoin'd, with me refide:

,, My dictates arm, inftruct, and mend the heart: „The fureft policy, the wifeft guide.

"

99

With me, true friendfhip dwells: fhe deigns to bind

Thofe generous fouls alone, whom I before have join'd.

XXII.

„Nor need my friends the various coftly feaft; Hunger to them th' effects of art fupplies; ,,Labour prepares their weary limbs to reft; Sweet is their fleep: light, chearful, ftrong they

rife.

„Thro' health, thro' joy, thro' pleasure and re

nown,

"They tread my paths; and by a foft defcent,
"At length to age all gently finking down,
Look back with tranfport on a life well-fpent:
In which no hour flew unimprov'd away:
In which fome generous deed diftinguish'd every
day.

XXIII.

,,And when, the deftin'd term at length compleat, "Their afhes reft in peace, eternal fame

"

Sounds wide their praife: triumphant over fate

In facred fong, for ever lives their name.

„This, Hercules, is happiness! Obey "My voice, and live; let thy celestial birth

"

,,Lift, and enlarge thy thoughts. Behold the way That leads to fame; and raises thee from earth. „Immortal! Lo, I guide thy fteps. Arife, „Purfue the glorious path; and claim thy native fkies!"

XXIV.

Her words breathe fire celestial, and impart
New vigour to his foul, that fudden caught
The generous flame: with great intent his heart
Swells ful, and labours with exalted thought:
The mist of error from his eyes difpell'd,
Thro' all her fraudful arts in clearest light
Sloth in her native form he now beheld:
Unveil'd, fhe ftood confefs'd before his fight:
False Siren! All her vaunted charms, that

--

fhone

So fresh erewhile, and fair: now wither'd, pale,

and gone.

XXV.

No more the rofy bloom in fweet disguise
Mafks her diffembled looks: each borrow'd grace
Leaves her wan cheek; pale ficknefs clouds her
eyes

Livid and funk, and paffions dim her face
As when fair Iris has a while display'd
Her watry arch, with gaudy painture gay:

While yet we gaze the glorious colours fade,
And from our wonder gently steal away:

Where fhone the beauteous phantom erft fo bright, Now lowers the low-hung cloud; all gloomy to the fight.

XXVI

But virtue more engaging all the while
Disclos'd new charms; more lovely, more ferene;

Beaming

Dr. Lowth.

Dr. Lowth.

Beaming fweet influence. A milder fmile.
Soften'd the terrors of her lofty mien.

„Lead, goddefs, I am thine! (transported cry'd Alcides:) O propitious pow'r thy way

66

Teach me! poffefs my foul: be thou my guide:
never let me ftray!
youth his vows addrefs'd
fill'd, already glow'd his

From thee, o never,
While ardent thus the
With all the goddefs

breaft.

XXVII.

The heav'nly maid with ftrength divine endu'd
His daring foul: there all her pow'rs combin'd,
Firm conftancy, undaunted fortitude
Enduring patience, arm'd his mighty mind
Unmov'd in toils, in dangers undismay'd:
By many a hardy deed and bold emprize

From fierceft monsters, thro' her pow'rful aid
He free'd the earth: thro' her, he gain'd the fkies.
'Twas, Virtue plac'd him in the bleft abode;
Crown'd with eternal youth: among the Gods a
God.

Par.

Parnell.

(Thomas Parnell, geboren 1679, gestorben 1717, ist Verfasser einer nicht zahlreichen, aber geschmackvollen Sammlung vermischter Gedichte, für deren Werth schon der Umstand ein günstiges Vorurtheil erregt, daß Pope ihr Sammler und Herausgeber war. Følgende Allegorie über den Menschen erklärt Dr. Johnson für die glücklichste seiz ́ner Arbeiten, von denen er das Urtheil fällt, daß man nicht zu sagen wisse, ob sie Produkte der Natur sind, die so vor: trefflich ist, daß sie der Hülfe der Kunft nicht bedarf; oder der Kunst, die so verfeinert ist, daß fie lauter Natur zu sein scheint.)

AN ALLEGORY ON MAN.

Parnell.

A

thoughtful Being, long and spare,

Our race of mortals call him Care:

(Were Homer living, well he knew,
What name the Gods have call'd him too;)
With fine mechanic genius wrought,
And lov'd to work, tho' no one bought.

This Being by a model bred

In Jove's eternal fable head,

Contriv'd a fhape impow'r'd to breathe,
And be the wordling here beneath.

The Man rofe ftaring, like a ftake,
Wondring to fee himself awake!
Then look'd fo wife, before he knew
The buf'nefs he was made to do;
That pleas'd to fee with what a grace
He gravely fhew'd his forward face,
Jove talk'd of breeding him on high,
An Under-fomething of the fky.

But

Parnell.

But ere he gave the mighty nod,
Which ever binds a Poet's God:

(For which his curls ambrofial shake,
And mother Earth 's obliged to quake:)
He faw old mother Earth arife,
She stood confeis'd before his eyes;
But not with what we read she wore
A caftle for a crown before,

Nor with long streets and longer roads,
Dangling behind her, like commodes:
As yet with wreaths alone fhe drest,
And trail'd a landfkip-painted veft.
Then thrice fhe rais'd, as Ovid faid,.
And thrice fhe bow'd her weighty head.

Her honours made, great Jove, she cry'd,
This thing was fafhion'd from my fide;
His hands, his heart, his head are mine;
Then what haft thou, to call him thine?

Nay rather afk, the Monarch faid,

What boots his hand, his heart, his head,
Were what I gave remov'd away?
Thy part 's an idle fhape of clay.

Halves, more than halves! cry'd honeft
Care,

Your pleas woul'd make your titles fair;

You claim the body, you the foul,

But I who join'd them, claim the whole.

Thus with the Gods debate began,

On fuch a trivial caufe, as Man.

And can celestial tempers rage?

Quoth Virgil, in a later age.

As thus they wrangled, Time came by.
(There's none that paint him fuch as I;
For what the fabling ancients fung,

Makes