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In vain they curse, in vain they pine and mourn,
Back on themselves their arrows will return: 50
Whoe'er would thy establish'd fame deface,
Are but immortaliz'd to their disgrace ;
Live, and enjoy their spite, and share that fate,
Which would, if Homer liv'd, on Homer wait.

And lo! his second labour claims thy care, 55
Ulysses' toils, succeed Achilles' war.
Haste to the work; the ladies long to see
The pious frauds of chaste Penelope.
Helen they long have seen, whose guilty charms
For ten whole years engag'd the world in arms. 60
Then, as thy Fame shall see a length of days,
Some future Bard shall thus record thy Praise :
“ In those blest times, when smiling Heav'n and Fate
Had rais’d Britannia to her happiest state,
When wide around she saw the World submit, 65
And own her Sons supreme in Arts and Wit;
Then Pope and Dryden brought in triumph home,
The Pride of Greece, and Ornament of Rome;
To the great task each bold Translator came, 69
With Virgil's Judgment, and with Homer's Flame.
Here the pleas'd Mantuan swan was taught to soar,
Where scarce the Roman eagles towr'd before:
And Greece no more was Homer's native earth,
Tho' her fev'n rival cities claim'd his birth

; On her sev'n cities, he look'd down with scorn, 75 And own'd with pride, he was in Britain born."

CHRISTOPHER PITT.

VOLTAIRE AU ROI DE PRUSSE.

Horace avec Boileau : Vous y cherchiez le vrai, vous y goutez le beau; Quelques traits échappés d'une utile morale, Dans leurs piquans ecrits brillent par intervalle; Mais Pope approfondit ce qu'ils ont effleuré; D’un esprit plus hardi, d'un pas plus atsuré, Il porta le flambeau dans l'abime de l'etre, Et l'homme avec lui seul apprit à se connoitre. L'Art quelquefois frivole, et quelquefois divin, L’Art des vers est dans Pope utile au genre humain.

AT T Stowe in Buckinghamshire, the feat of Earl

Temple, is a building called The Temple of British Worthies, designed by Kent.

One of the niches has a bust of Pope, with the following in. fcription :

ALEXANDER POPE, Who uniting the correctness of Judgment tothe fire of Genius,

by the melody and power of his numbers, gave sweetness to Sense, and grace to Philofophy. He employed the pointed brilliancyof Wit to chastise the vices, and the eloquenceof Poetrytoexalt the virtues of human nature;

and being without a rival in his own age, imitated and translated, with a spirit equal to the originals,

the best Poets of Antiquity.

TO MR. POPE.

IO

То
o move the springs of nature as we please,

To think with spirit, but to write with ease:
With living words to warm the conscious heart,
Or please the foul with nicer charms of art,
For this the Grecian foar'd in Epic strains, 5
And softer Maro left the Mantuan plains :
Melodious Spenser felt the lover's fire,
And awful Milton strung his heav'nly lyre.

'Tis yours, like these, with curious toil to trace
The pow'rs of language, harmony, and grace,
How Nature's self with living lustre fhines;
How Judgment strengthens, and how Art refines :
How to grow bold with conscious sense of fame,
And force a pleasure which we dare not blame,
To charm us more thro' negligence than pains, · 15
And give ev’n life and action to the strains :
Led by some law, whose pow'rful impulse guides
Each happy stroke, and in the soul presides :
Some fairer image of perfection, giv'n
T' inspire mankind, itself deriv'd from heav'n.

O ever worthy, ever crown'd with praise ;
Blest in thy life, and blest in all thy lays !
Add that the Sisters ev'ry thought refine:
Or ev'n thy life be faultless as thy line ;
Yet envy still with fiercer
still with fiercer rage pursues,

25 Obscures the virtue, and defames the muse.

A soul

20

A foul like thine, in pains, in grief resign'd,
Views with vain scorn the malice of mankind :
Not critics, but their planets prove unjust :
And are they blam'd who fin because they must ? 30

Yet sure not so must all peruse thy lays ;
I cannot rival and yet dare to praise.
A thousand charms at once my thoughts engage,
Sappho's soft sweetness, Pindar's warmer rage,
Statius' free vigour, Virgil's studious care, 35
And Homer's force, and Ovid's easier air.

So seems some Picture, where exact design, And curious pains, and strength and sweetness join : Where ihe free thought its pleasing grace bestows, And each warm stroke with living colour glows: 40 Soft without weakness, without labour fair ; Wrought up at once with happiness and care!

How bleft the man that from the world removes To joys that MORDAUNT, or his Pope approves; Whofe taste exact each author can explore, 45 And live the present and past ages o'er : Who free from pride, from penitence, or strife, Move calmly forward to the verge of life: Such be my days, and such my

fortunes be, To live by reason, and to write by thee!

50 Nor deem this verse, tho' humble, thy disgrace ; All are not born the glory of their race : Yet all are born t'adore the great man's name, And trace his footsteps in the paths to fame,

The

The Muse who now this early homage pays, 55
First learn'd from thee to animate her lays:
A Muse as yet unhonour'd, but unftain'd,
Who prais'd no vices, no preferment gain'd:
Unbias’d, or to çensure or commend,

59
Who knows no envy, and who grieves no friend;
Perhaps too fond to make those virtues known,
And fix her fạme immortal on thy own *.

WALTER HARTE.

* Pope's turn of versification, formularies of expression, &c. are well preserved in these verses, which appear fincere, although the praise is exceffive and exaggerated. Upon reading these encomiums, it may be remarked, that Pope was ushered into the world with all the consideration which the patronage of the Great, and the efforts of friendship, could bestow ; while Milton, who published his great work in obscurity and indigence, had no patron to protect, and few friends to encourage him: but the true merit of each as a poet, is better tried by the effect of their respective works, when the authors themselves, their patrons and friends, are no more. Pope, whose works will be always interest. ing to the reader of taste, does not claim that superior adoration paid to the great master of English poetry; while Milton now, I had almost said, “ looks from his sole dominion" like that Luminary he has himself fo finely described.

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