ASTROLOGY. If he chance to find A new repast, or an untasted spring, ADDISON. Thanks to my stars, I have not ranged about Though cheats, yet more intelligible But with more lucky hit than those BUTLER: Hudibras. I only deal by rules of art, Such as are lawful, and judge by Conclusions of astrology. BUTLER: Hudibras. Cardan believed great states depend Strow'd mighty empires up and down. BUTLER: Hudibras. They'll find i' the physiognomies O' th' planets all men's destinies. BUTLER: Hudibras. Quoth Hudibras, The stars determine BUTLER: Hudibras. Many rare pithy saws concerning The worth of astrologic learning. BUTLER: Hudibras. Cry out upon the stars for doing Ill offices, to cross their wooing. 45 Large foundations may be safely laid, The Greek names this the horoscope, CREECH. We must trust to virtue, not to fate; DRYDEN. The spiteful stars have shed their venom down, And now the peaceful planets take their turn. DRYDEN. Such sullen planets at my birth did shine, Sorceries to raise th' infernal pow'rs, Noble Boyle, not less in nature seen Great Fletcher never treads in buskins here, In easy dialogues is Fletcher's praise: When did his muse from Fletcher scenes purloin, The death of Richard, with an arrow slain. Three poets, in three distant ages born, Horace, with sly insinuating grace, Would raise a blush where secret vice he found, And tickle while he gently probed the wound; With seeming innocence the crowd beguiled, But made the desperate passes when he smiled. DRYDEN. Nor let false friends seduce thy mind to fame DRYDEN. Your Ben and Fletcher, in their first young flight, Did no Volpone, nor no Arbaces write; Lucan, content with praise, may lie at ease Orestes' bulky rage, Unsatisfied with margins closely writ, Next Petrarch follow'd, and in him we see What rhyme, improved in all its height, can be; At best a pleasing sound, and sweet barbarity. DRYDEN. Saint Andre's feet ne'er kept more equal time, DRYDEN. Shadwell alone of all my sons is he Who stands confirm'd in full stupidity. DRYDEN. The rest to some faint meaning make pretence, But Shadwell never deviates into sense. DRYDEN. Some beams of wit on other souls may fall, Strike through, and make a lucid interval; But Shadwell's genuine night admits no ray, His rising fogs prevail upon the day. DRYDEN. Anger would indite Such woful stuff as I or Shadwell write. DRYDEN. Shadwell till death true dulness would main tain; And, in his father's right and realm's defence, Ne'er would have peace with wit, nor truce with sense. DRYDEN. But Shakspeare's magic could not copied be; And they who most perform'd, and promised Ev'n Short and Hobbes, forsook th' unequal DRYDEN. Whoe'er thou art, whose forward ears are bent Exalted Socrates! divinely brave! Too noble for revenge. DRYDEN. Angry Skelton's breathless rhymes. BISHOP HALL. 49 O'er nature's laws God cast the veil of night: That good man, who drank the pois'nous Their discords sting through Burns and Moore, draught With mind serene, and could not wish to see DRYDEN. Burns o'er the plough sung sweet his wood- And richest Shakspeare was a poor man's child. O ye muses! deign your bless'd retreat, FENTON. Dryden himself, to cure a frantic age, Was forced to let his judgment stoop to rage; To a wild audience he conform'd his voice, Like hedgehogs dress'd in lace. O. W. HOLMES: Music Grinders. Good Homer sometimes nods. HORACE. Each change of many-colour'd life he drew, Soule of the Age! The applause! delight! the wonder of our Stage! Complied to custom, but not err'd through Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lye My Shakespeare, rise; I will not lodge thee by choice: Deem then the people's, not the writer's sin, GRANVILLE. Homer shall last, like Alexander, long; A little further, to make thee a roome: LAMB. 4 |