תמונות בעמוד


To nothing great should mortals bend their care, Already past the treachero'is bounds appear,
Till Jove be solemnly addrest in prayer.

Then molt at distance, when they feem to near; 'Tis not enough to call for aid divine,

Far from his grasp the fleeting harbour flies, And court but once the favour of the Nine; Courts his pursuit, but mocks his dazzled eyes; When objects rise, that mock your toil and pain, The promis'd region he with joy had spy'd, Above the labour and the rcach of man;

Vaft cracks of occans from his reach divide; Then you may supplicate the blest abudes, Still matt he backward steer his lengthen'd way, And ask the friendly succour of the gods.

And plough a wide interminable sea. Shock not your reader, nor begin too fierce, No skilful poet would his muse employ, Nor swell and bluster in a pomp of verse;

From Paris' voce to trace the fall of Troy, At first all needless ornament remove,

Nor every deed of Hector to relate, To thun his prejudice, and win his love.

While his strong arm suspended Ilion's fate; At first, you find most favour and success

Work for some annalist! Come heavy fool, In plain expression, and a modelt dress.

Correely dry, and regularly dull. For if too arrogant you vaunt your might, Belt ncar the t end those dreadful scenes appear; You fall with greater scandal in the fight,

Wake then, and rouse the furies of the war.
When on the nicest point your fortune stands,

But for his ravish'd fair at first engage
And all your courage all your strength demands. Peleides' soul in unrelenting rage.
With gradual flights surprise us as we read; Be this the cause that every Phrygian food
And let more glorious images succeed

Swells with red waves, and rolls a cide of blood; To wake our souls; to kindle our desire

That Xanthus' urns a purple deluge pour, Still to read and fan the riling firc.

And the deep trenches float with human gore. Buc ne'er the subject of your work proclaim Nor former deeds in silence mult we lose, In its own colours, and is genuine oame;

The league at Aulis, and the mutual vows, Let it by distant tokens be convey'd,

The Spartan raging for his ravish'd spouse; And wrapt in other words, and cover'd in their The thousand Mhips; the woes which llion bore Thade.

From Greece, for nine revolving years before. At last the subject from the friendly shrowd This f rule with judgment should the bard mainBursts out, and shines the brighter from the cloud; tain, Then the diffolving darkness breaks away, Who brings Laërtes' wandering son again, And every object glares in open day.

From burning llion to his native reign. Thus great * Ulyffes' toils were I to choose, Let him not launch from Ida's trand his ships, For the main theme that should employ my muse; With his attendant friends into the deeps; By his long labours of immortal faine,

Nor stay to vanquish the Ciconian host; Should shine my hero, but conceal his name ; But let him first appear (his comrades loft) As one, who lost at sea, had nations seen, [men, With fair Calypso on th'Ogygian coast. And mark'd their towns, their manners, and their From thence, a world of toils and dangers past, Since Froy was levellid to the dust by Greece ; Waft him to rich Phæacia's realms at last, Till a few lines epitomiz'd the piece.

There at the fealt his wanderings to relate, But ftudy now what order to maintain, His friends dire change; his own relentless fate. To link the work in one continued chain,

But if the bard of former actions fings, That, when the muse displays her arıful scheme, He wisely draws from those remoter (prings And at the proper time unfolds the theme; The present order, and the course of things. Each part may find its own determin'd place, As yet unfold th' event on no pretence, Laid out with method, and dispos'd with grace; 'Tis your chief talk to keep us in fufpense. That to the destin'd scope the piece may tend, Noriell what Ý presents Arreus' fon prepares, And keep one constant tenot to the end.

To reconcile Achilles to the wars ; First to surprising novelties inclin'd,

Or by what god's auspicious condu& led, The bards some unexpected objects find,

From Polyphemus' den Ulyffes fled. To wake attention, and suspend the mind.

Pleas'd with the toil, and on the prospect bent, A cold, dull order bravely they forsake ;

Our fouls leap forward to the wilh'd event. Fix'd and resolv'd the winding way to take, No call of nature can our search restrain, They nobly deviate from the beaten track. And liecp, and thirst, and hunger, plead in vain. The poet marks th' occasion, as he fings,

Glad we pursue the labour we embrac'd, To launch out boldly from the midst of things, And leave reluctant, when we leave at last. Where some distinguish'd incident he views, See ! how the bard triumphant in his art, Some shining action that deserves a muse.

Sports with our pallions, and commands the Thence by degrees the wondering reader brings

heart; To trace the subject backward to its springs, Now here, now there, he turns the varying song: Left at his entrance he should idly stay,

And draws at will the captive soul alongi
Shock'd at his coil, and dubious of his way;
For when set down so near the promis'd goal, + See Honer's Iliad.
The flattering prospect cempts and fires his soul;

| See the Odyley.

$ See the Iliad. Lib. XIX. Vid. Hom. Odyd. Lib. I.

| Odll. IX,

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Rack'd with uncertain hints, in every fenfe Plcasid the refreshing prosped to survey,
We feel the lengthen'd anguish of suspense. Each stride he lengthens, and beguiles the war,
When * Homer once has promis'd to rehearse More pleas'd (the temp:ing scene in vies ) to F
Bold Paris' fight, in many a sounding verle, Than pensively to walk the gloomy vales beck.
He soon perceives his reader's warn defire

Unless the theme within your bosom roll, Wrapt in the event, and all his soul on fire; Work in each thought, and run through al The poet then contrives some specious Ray, ,

soul; Before he tells the fortune of the day.

Unless you alter with incessant pain, Till Helen to the king and elders Mow,

Pull down, and build the fabric o'er again; From some tall tower, the leaders of the foe, In vain, when rival-wits your wonder raise, And name the heroes in the fields below.

You'll ftrive to match those beauties which + When chase Penelope, to gain her end,

praise. Lavites her suitors the tough bow to bend;

To one just scope with fixt design go on! (Her nuptial bed the victor's promis'd prize) Let sovereign realon dictate from her chrast, With what address her various arts she plies ! By what determin'd methods to advance, Skill'd in delays, and politically flow

But never trust to arbitrary chance. To search her treasures for her hero's bow. Where chance presides, all objects wildly jur's

None lead the reader in the dark along, Crowd on the reader, and diftra& his mind; To the last goal that terminates the song;

From theme to theme unwilling is he tol, Sometimes th' event must glance upon the light, And in the dark variety is loft. Not glare in day, nor wholly link in night. You see some bards, who bold excursions mak: 'Tis thus Anchises to his son relates

In long digressions from the beaten track; The various series of his future fates;

And paint a wild unnecessary throng For this the prophets fee, on Tyber's shore, Of things and objects foreign to the song; Wars, horrid wars, and Latium red with gore, For new descriptions from the road departe | A new Achillcs rising to destroy

Devoid of order, discipline, and ar. With boundless rage the poor remains of Troy; So, many an anxious toil and danger past, But raise his mind with prospects of success, Some wretch returns from banishment at !24. And give the promise of a latting peace.

With fond delay to range the fhady wood, This knew the hero when he fought the plains, Now here, now there, he wanders from the is Sprung S from his thips, and charg'd the embattled From field to field, from stream to streza i swains,

roves, Hew'd down the Latian troops with matchless And courts the cooling Melter of the groves "might,

For why should Homer * deck the gorgeous (The first, auspicious omen of the fight)

When our rais'd souls are eager for the w: And at one blow gigantic Theron kill'd,

Or dwell on every wheel, when loud alarms, Bold, but in vain, and foremost of the field; And Mars in thunder calls the hosts to arms! Thus too | Patroclus with his latest breath When with his heroes we some daltard time Foretold his unregarding victor's death :

Of a vile asped, and malignant mind; His parting soul anticipates the blow,

His awkward figure is not worth our care; That waits brave Hector from a greater foe. His monstrous length of head, or want of ta. Thou too, poor Turnus, juft before thy doom,

Not, though he goes with mountain iheako Could't read thy end, and antedate a tomb, Short of a foot, or blinking in an eye. When o'er thy head the baleful fury flew, Such trivial objeds call us off too long And in dire omens set thy fate to view :

From the main drisc and tenor of the long, A bird obscene, the flutter'd a'er the field, Drances † appears a julter character, And scream'd thy death, and beat thy foundins in council bold, but cautious in the war; field.

Factious and loud the listening throng he der Irlo! the time, the fatal time is come, And swells with wealth and popular appiski Ciarg'd with thy death, and heavy with thy doom, But, what in qur's would never find a place

, When Turnus, though in vain, fall rue the day; | The bold Greek language may admit wichsen Shall curse the golden belt he bore away;

Why should I here the fratagems recice, S: all with too late young Pallas' 1poile unfought, And the low tricks of every little wit? And mourn the conqueft he so dearly bought. Some out of time their stock of knowledge bes 'Th' event fiould glimmer through its gloomy Till in the pedant all the bard is loit throwd,

Such without care their useless lumber place; Though yet confus'd, and struggling in the cloud. One black, confus'd, and undigefted mals, So, to the traveller, as he journies on

With a wild heap encumbers every part, To reach the walls of some far distant town, Nor rang'd with grace, nor methodisd with If, high in air, the dubious turrets rise,

But then in chief, when things abstruse they are Peep o'er the hills, and dance before his eyes; Themes too abftracted for the vulgar ekki * S Ucin Iliad lll. + Od. X'XI.

l'id. Hom. Iliad, Lib. 7.9.783. * Se i rf Æneid, Lib. VI. v. 890.

+ lbid. Lib. 11. 9. 212. . 15:4. Lib. II. v.458. || Ibid. Lib. 7. v. 331. i l irgi Eneid Lib. XI. 7.33

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The hidden nature of the deities;

Hear then, ye generous youths, on this regard The secret laws and motions of the skies;

I should not blame the conduct of the bard, Or from what dark original began

Who in soft numbers, and a flowing ftrain,
The fiery soul, and kindled


Relieves and reconciles our ears again.
Oft they in odious instances engage,

When I the various implements had sung And for examples ransack every age,

That to the fields, and rural trade belong, With every realm; no hero will they pass, In sweet harmonious measures would I tell But act against the rules of time and place. How nature mourn'd when the great Cæsar fell. Avoid, ye youths, these practices; nor raise When Bacchus' curling vines had grac'd my lays, Your swelling fouls to fuch a thirst of praise. The rural pleasures † next should mare my praise. Some bards of eminence there are, we own, The labour ended, and complete the whole, Who fing sometimes the journies of the sun, Some bards with pleasure wander round the goal, The rising stars, and labours of the moon : The flights and fallies of the muse prolong, What impulse bids the ocean rise and fall; And add new beauties to the finish'd fong; What motions shake and rock the trembling ball. Pleas'd with th' cxcursion of the charming train, Though foreign subjects had engag'd their care, We strive to quit the work, but strive in vain. The rage, the din and thunder of the war, Thus, were the bees the subject of my muse, Through the loud field; the genius of the carth; | Their laws, their natures, and celestial dews; Or rules to raise the vegetable birth :

Poor | Aritteus should his fate disclose, Yet 'tis but feldom, and when time and place Flis muther's counsel should allwage his woes; Require the thing, and reconcile to grace. Old Proteus here should struggle in his chain, 'Those foreign objects neceffury feem,

There in soft verse the Thracian bard complain And flow, to all appearance, from the theme ; As Philomela on a popular bough With so much art fo well conceal'd they pleale, Bewails her young, melodious in her woe). When wrought with skill, and introduc'd with Pangæan teeps his sorrows should return, cafe.

And vocal Thrace with Rhodope should mourn; Should not * Anchises, such occasion shown, Hebrus should roll low-murmuring to the deep, Resolve the questions of his godlike lon?

And barbarous nations wonder why they wecp. I fouls depriv'd of heaven's fair light repair Thus too the poers, who the names declare Once more to day, and breathe the viral air ? Of kings and nations gathering to the war, Orif from high Olympus first they came,

Sometimes diversify the strain, and ling Inspir’d with portions of ethereal name,

The wondrous change of the g Ligurian king. Though herc encumber'd with the mortal frame? While for his Phaëton his forrows flow, Tire not too long one subject when you write, And his harmonious (trains beguile his woe, For 'tis variety that gives delight;

O'er all the man the snowy feathers rise, But when to that variety inclin'd,

And in a tuneful swan he inounts the skies. You seek new obje&s to relieve the mind, Thus too | Hij politus, by Dian's care Be sure let nothing forc'd or labour'd seeni, And Pæan's art, returns to upper air. But watch your time, and fteal froni off your The bards now paint the arms their heroes wield, theme.

And each bold figure on the glittering fhield. Conceal with care your longing to depart, Great q Aventinus, great Alcides' fon, For art's chief pride is still to cover art.

Wore the proud trophy which his father won; So f Mulciber, in future ages tillid,

An hundred serpents o'er the buckler rollid, Engravid Rome’s glories on Encas' shield, And Ilydra hiss’d from all her heads in gold. On the bright orb her future fame enroll'd, Now blooming Tempe's cool retreats they fing, And with her triumphs charg'd the rising gold; And now with flowery bcautics paint the spring. liere figur'd fights the blazing round ador, Now with a fylvan scene the floods they hide; There his long line of heroes yet unborn,

Or teach the fam'd Eridanus to glide, But if a 1 poet of Ausinian birth

Or sport on fabled Achelous' Gde. Defcribes the various kingdoms of the earth, Or hoary Nereus' numerous race display, Wide intersperit; the Medes, or swarthy Moors;) The hundred azure filters of the sea. 1 he digerent natures of their foils explores, With them the nymphs that haunt their native And paints the trees that blcom on India's

woods, thores :

And the long orders of the Sylvan gods. On his own land he locks with partial eyes, With gay descriptions sprinkle here and there And lists the fair Hitperia to the skics;

Some grave intructive sentences with care,
To all the fair Helperia he prefers,

That touch on life, fome moral good pursue,
And makes the woous of Bactria yield to her's, And give us virtuc in a transient view;
With proud Panchaia; though her groves the

Virg. Georg. Lib. 1. v. 466.
And breathes a cloud of incense from her coasts. t Ibid. Lib. 11. v. 458.

| Ibid. Lib. XI. v. 317. * Vid. Virg. Æneid. Lib. VI.

$ Æneid, lib. X.0.185. lbid. Lib. i 111. v. 626,

|| 1bid. Lib. Vil. 0.756. Georgic. Lib. 11. v. 136.

1. lbid. v. 656.


Rules, which the future fire may make his own, As wrought by heaven these wonders they rear And point the golden precepts to his son. All airy visions of the ivory gate! Sometimes on little images to fall,

Speak things but once, if order be your care, And thus illustrate mighty things by small; For more the cloy'd attention will not bear, With due success the licens'd poet dares,

And tedious repetitions tire the ear. When to the * ants the Phrygians he compares, In this we differ from the Grecian train, Who leaving Carthage, gather to the feas; Who tell • Atrides' visions o'er again. Or che laborious lyrians to the + bees.

'Tis not enough with them we know the cake But swarming I flies, offensive animals,

Why great Achilles from the war withdraw, That buz incessant o'er the smoking pails, Unless the + weeping hero, on the shore, Are images too low, to paint the hosts

Tells his blue mother all we heard befere. That roll and blacken o'er Ausonia's coasts. So much on punctual niccties they ftand, The lofty muse who sung the Latian war, That, when their kings dispatch some high Would think such trivial things beneath her care.

mand, How from his majesty would Virgil fall,

All word for word, th' embassadors reheak If Turnus, scarce repell'd from Ilion's wall, In the same tenor of unvaried verse. Retiring grimly with a tardy pace,

Not so did | Venulus from Arpi bring Had e'er been figur'd by the patient ass! The final answer of th' Ætolian king. Whom unregarded troops of boys surround,

Let others labour on a vast delign, While o'er his sides their rattling Atrokes resound; A less, but polith'd with due care, be thine. Slow he gives way, and crops the springing grain, To change its structure, be your last delight; Turns on each Gde, and stops to graze again. Thus spend the day, and exercise the night, In every point the thing is just, we know, Inceffant in your coil. But if you choose But then the image is itself too low:

A larger field and subject for your muse; For Turnus, sprung from such a glorious (train, If scanty limits should the theme confine, The vile resemblance would with scorn disdain. Learn with just art to lengthen the design With better grace the || lion may appear, Beyond its native bounds; the roving misdi Who, fingly impotent the crowd to dare,

A thousand methods to this end may find; Repel, or stand their whole embody'd war, Unnumber'd fi&ions may with truths be jos: Looks grimly back, and rolls his glaring eye, Nature supplies a fund of matter till; Despairs to conquer, and disdains to fly.

Then cull th' rich variety at will. Since fictions are allow'd, be sure, ye youths, See! how the bard calls down th' embatikYour fi&ions wear at least the air of truths. All rang’d in factions, from their bright abe When Glaucus meets Tydides on the plain, Who, fir'd with mutual hate, their arms er Inflam'd with rage, and reeking from the flain; And in the field declare for Greece or Tros, Some think they could not pass the time away, Till Jove convenes a council to asswage In such long narratives, and ccol delay,

Their rising sury, and suspend their rage; Amidst the raging tumult of the day.

Though the bleit gods, remov'd from tunne But yet we hear fierce Diomed relate

Live in immortal case within the distant kas The crime of bold Lycurgus, and his fate ; And now th' infernal realm his theme he had And Glaucus talks of brave Bellerophon,

The reign of Pluto, the Tartarean lakes, Doom'd for a lawless passion not his own ; The furies dreadful with their curling frals Sets forth the hero's great exploits to view, He gathers omens from each bird that fier, How the boid chief the dire Chimæra flew, And figos from every wing that beats che i The Solymæan host, and Amazonian crew. He now describes a banquet, where the gu For those surprising fictions are design'd

Prolongs with narratives the royal feat. With their sweet falfhoods to delight the mind; Or at the glorious hero's tomb we read The bards expect no credit should be given Of games ordain'd in honour of the dead. To the bare lie, though authoriz'd by heaven, And oft for mercies in old times display'd, Which oft with confidence they vent abroad, To their own gods their annual rites are jan Bencath the needful fanction of a god.

For monstrous Python Main, their praifes it, 'Twas thus the ** roalled heifers of the sun And lift the same of Phæbus to the skies Spoke o'er the fire with accents not their own; In hymns Alcides' labours they resound. 'T'was thus ft Achilles' fteed his filence broke, While Cacus lies extended on the ground, And #Trojan ships in human voices spoke; Alternate sing the labours of his hands,

Enjoin'd by fierce Eurystheus' ftern comp. * Virg. Æneid. Lib. 1X. v. 402.

The den of Cacus crowns the grateful frac. + Ibid. Lib. I. v. 434.

Where the grim monster breathes his flamesac Hem. Iliad, Lib. 11. v. 469. $ Ibid. Lib. XI. « 557.

# Vid. Hom. Iliad. Lib. II. il Virg. Æneid, Lib. IX. v. 792.

f Ibid. Lib. 1. v. 370, Homer's Iliad, Lib. VI. v. 119.

| Ibid. Lib IX. v. 264. ** Homer. Odys. Lib. XII. v. 395.

s Virg. Æneid. Lib. X1. 5. 243. + Iliad. Lib. XVII. ».426.

| All tbele particulars, to the end of this part it Virgil, Æneid. Lib. X. v. 228.

are taken from Homer and Virgil.

Maris how sometimes the bard without control, Sometimes their verdant honours leave the woods, xerts his fire, and pours forth ail his soul; And their dry urns defraud the thirsty floods ; lis lines fo daring, and his words so strong; Nor still the rivers a full channel yield, Ve see the subject figur’d in the song :

Nor spring with flowery beauties paints the field : Vhen with the winds old Ocean he deforms, The bards no less such fickie changes find, ir paints the rage and horrors of the storms; Dampt is the noble ardour of the mind ; ir drives on pointed rocks the burning hips, Their wonted toil her wearied powers refuse; oft on the Euxine, or Sicilian deeps.

Their souls grow ilack and languid to the muse, Or fings the t plagues that blast the livid sky, Dear to their call; their efforts are withstood; Vhen beasts by herds, and men by nations die; Round their cold hearts congeals the freezing blood. is the fierce flames that Ævna's jaws expire, You'd think then uses fied the god no more {er melted rocks, and deluges of fire,

Would fire the bosom where he dwelt before, Vhen from her mouth the bursting vapour flies, No more return !--how often, though in vain, ind, charg'd with ruin, thunders to the skies; The poet would renew the wonted train! Vhile drifts of smoke in footy whirlwinds play, Nor sees the gods who thwarı his fruitless care, and clouds of cinders stain the golden day. Nor angry heaven relentless to his prayer. ee! as the poet sounds the dire alarms,

Some read the ancient bards, of deathless fame, alls on the war, and fets the hosts in arms; And from their raptures catch the noble flame quadrons on Iquadrons driven, confus dly die; By just degrees; they feed the glowing vein, Grim Mars in all his terrors Atrikes the eye; And all th'immortal ardour burns again More than description rising to the right,

In its full light and heat; the sun's bright ray Presents the real horrors of the fight;

Thus (u hen the clouds di perle) restores the day: new creation seems our praise to claim ; Whence foot this suuden fiafh that gilds the Hence Greece derives the sacred s poet's name ;) pole? Che dreadful clang of clashing arms we hear; The god, che god comes rushing on his soul; Che agonizing groan, the fruitless prayer,

Fires with ethereal vigour every part, And shricks of suppliants thicken on the ear. Through every trembling limb he seems to dart, Nho, when he reads a l city form’d, for bears Works in each vein, and swells his rising heart. To feel her woes, and sympathize in tears? Deep in his breast the heavenly tumult plays, When o'er the palaces the flames aspire

And fets his mounting spirits on a blaze. arom wall to wall, and wrap the domes in fire ? Nor can the raging fiames themselves contain, The fire, with years and hostile rage opprest ! For the whole god descends into the man. The starting infant, clinging to the breast!

He quits nortality, he knows no bounds, The tender mother runs, with piercing cries, But lings inspir'd in more than human sounds. Through friends and foes, and thrieking rends the Nor from his breast can shake th'immortal load, skies.

But pants and raves, impatient of the god; Dragg'd from the altar, the distracted fair

And rape beyond himself, admires the force Beats her white breast, and tears her golden hair. That drives him on reluctant to the course. Here in thick crowds the vanquish'd fly away, He calls on Phoebus, by the god opprest, There the proud victors heap the wealthy prey; Who breathes excessive spirit in his breast; With rage relentless ravage their abodes,

No force of thirst or hunger can controul Nor spare the sacred temples of the gods.

The fierce, the ruling transport of his soul. O'er the whole town they run with wild affright, | Ofe in their feep, inipir'd with rage divine, Tumultuous haste, and violence of flight.

bome baris enjoy the visions of the Nine : Why should I mention how our souls aspire, Vifons! themselves with due applause may crown, Lost in the raptures of the facred fire?

Vifions! that Phæbus or that Jove may own. For ev'n the soul not always holds the Carne, To such an height the god exalts the flame, But knows at different times a different frame. And so unbounded is their thirst of fame. Whether with rolling seasons the complies, But here, ye youths, exert your timely care, Turns with the sun, or changes with the skies; Nor truit eh'ungovernable rage too far; Or through long toil, remiflive of her fires,

Ule not your fortune, nor unfurl your sails, Droops with the mortal frame her force inspires; Though softly courted by the factering gales, Or that our minds alternately appear

Refuse them fill, and call your judgment in, Now bright with joy, and now o'ercast with care. While the fierce god exults oud reigns within ; No !--but the gods, th' immortal gods, Tupply To reason s standard be your thoughts confinid, The glorious fires; they speak the deity.

Let judgment calm the tempeft of he mind. Then bielt is he who waits th' auspicious nod, indulge your heat with conduct, and reftrain; The warmth divine, and presence of the god; Learn when to draw, and when to give the rein, Who his suspended labours can restrain,

But always wait till the warm raptures cease, Till heaven'; serene indulgence smiles again. And lull the tumults of the soul to peace; But strive, on no pretence, again your power, Tben, nor till then, examine stridly o'er Till time brings back the voluntary hour. What your wild fallies might suggest before.

Be sure, from nature never to depart; • Æneid. Lib. I. + lbid. Lib. III. v. 137. To copy nature is the talk of art. # Ibid. Lib. III.v.571. § A wobtiv,

The nubleft poets own her sovereign sway, l'id. Æneid. Lib. II.

And ever follow where she leads the way.

3 G uij

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