sible not to have a mind to follow our great countryman Spenser, which I have done (as well at least as I could) in the manner of my expression and the turn of my number, having only added one verse to his stanza, which, I thought, made the number more harmonious, and avoided such. of his words as I found too obsolete: I have, however, retained some few of them, to make the colouring look more like Spenser's. Behest, command; band, army; prowess, strength; I weet, I know; I ween, I think; whilom, heretofore; and two or three more of that kind, which I hope the ladies will pardon me, and not judge my muse less handsome, though for once she appears in a farthingale. I have also, in Spenser's manner, used Cæsar for the Emperor; Boya for Bavaria; Bavar for that prince; Ister for Danube; Iberia for Spain, &c. That noble part of the ode which I just now mentioned, Gens quæ Cremato fortis ab Ilio where Horace praises the Romans as being descended from Æneas, I have turned to the honour of the British nation, descended from Brute, likewise a Trojan. That this Brute, fourth or fifth from Æneas, settled in England, and built London, which he called Troja Nova, or Troy novante, is a story which (I think) owes its original, if not to Geoffry of Monmouth, at least to the Monkish writers; yet is not rejected by our great Camden, and is told by Milton, as if (at least) he was pleased with it, though possibly he does not believe it; however, it carries a poetical authority, which is sufficient for our purpose. is as certain that Brute came into England, as that Æneas went into Italy; and upon the supposition of these facts, Virgil wrote the best poem that the world ever read, and Spenser paid Queen Elizabeth the greatest compliment. It I need not obviate one piece of criticism, that I bring my hero "From burning Troy, and Xanthus red with blood:" whereas he was not born when that city was destroyed. Virgil, in the case of his own Æneas, relating to Dido, will stand as a sufficient proof that a man, in his poetical capacity, is not accountable for a little fault in chronology, My two great examples, Horace and Spenser, in many things resemble each other: both have a height of imagination and a majesty of expression in describing the sublime, and both know to temper those talents, and sweeten the description, so as to make it lovely as well as pompous: both have equally that agreeable manner of mixing morality with their story, and that curiosa felicitas in the choice of their diction, which every writer aims at, and so very few have reached: both are particularly fine in their images, and knowing in their numbers. Leaving, therefore, our two masters to the consideration and study of those who design to excel in poetry, I only beg leave to add, that it is long since I have (or at least ought to have) quitted Parnassus, and all the flowery roads on that side the country, though I thought myself indispensably obliged, upon the present occasion, to take a little journey into those parts. AN ODE, Humbly inscribed to the Queen. Te non paventis funera Galliæ, I. HOR. W HEN great Augustus govern'd ancient Rome, And sent his conq'ring bands to foreign wars, Abroad when dreaded, and belov'd at home, He saw his fame increasing with his years, Horace, great bard, (so Fate ordain'd) arose, And bold as were his countrymen in fight, Snatch'd their fair actions from degrading prose, And set their battles in eternal light: High as their trumpets tune his lyre he strung, And with his prince's arms he moraliz'd his song. II. When bright Eliza rul'd Britannia's state, To the high theme he match'd his noble lays; III. But, greatest Anna! while thy arms pursue Paths of renown, and climb ascents of fame Which nor Augustus nor Eliza knew, What poet shall be found to sing thy name? What numbers shall record, what tongue shall say, Thy wars on land, thy triumphs on the main ? O fairest model of imperial sway! What equal pen shall write thy wond'rous reign? Who shall attempts and feats of arms rehearse, Not yet by story told nor parallel'd by verse? IV. Me all too mean for such a task I weet; And clothe the verse in Spenser's native style: By these examples rightly taught to sing, And smit with pleasure of my country's praise, Stretching the plumes of an uncommon wing, High as Olympus I my flight will raise, And latest times shall in my numbers read Anna's immortal fame and Marlbrô's hardy deed. V. As the strong Eagle in the silent wood, Mindless of warlike rage and hostile care, Plays round the rocky cliff or crystal flood, Till by Jove's high behests call'd out to war, And charg'd with thunder of his angry king, His bosom with the vengeful message glows |