Part of the NINTH ODE Of the FOURTH BOOK. EST LE you fhould think that verfe fhall die, Which founds the Silver Thames along, Taught, on the wings of Truth to fly Above the reach of vulgar fong; Tho' daring Milton fits fublime, Ere Cæfar was, or Newton nam'd; These rais'd new Empires o'er the Earth, And Those, new Heav'ns and Systems fram'd. Vain was the Chief's, the Sage's pride! In vain they schem'd, in vain they bled! They had no Poet, and are dead. |