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fay, for the information of those readers whofe courfe of ftudy has not led them into fuch enquiries.

I hope I fhall not be fo mifunderstood, as to have it thought that I pretend to give an exact copy of Pindar in this enfuing Ode; or that I look upon it as a pattern for his imitators for the future: far from fuch thoughts, I have only given an inftance of what is practicable, and am fenfible that I am as diftant from the force and elevation of Pindar, as others have hitherto been from the harmony and regularity of his numbers.

Again, we having no chorus to fing our Odes, the titles, as well as ufe of Strophé, Antiftrophé, and Epode, are obfolete and impertinent and certainly there may be very good English Odes, without the diftinction of Greek appellations to their ftanzas. That I have mentioned them here, and obferved the order of them in the ensuing Ode, is therefore only the more intelligibly to explain the extraordinary regularity of the compofition of thefe Odes, which have been represented

to

us hitherto, as the most confufed ftructures in

nature.

However, though there be no neceffity that our triumphal Odes should confist of the three afore-mentioned stanzas; yet if the reader can obferve that the great variation of the numbers in the third stanza (call it Epode, or what you please) has a pleasing effect in the Ode, and makes him return to the first and fecond ftanzas with more appetite than he could do, if always cloyed with the fame quantities and measures ; I cannot fee why fome ufe may not be made of Pindar's example,

ample, to the great improvement of the English Ode. There is certainly a pleasure in beholding any thing. that has art and difficulty in the contrivance; especially, if it appears fo carefully executed, that the difficulty does not fhew itself, till it is fought for; and that the seeming eafinefs of the work, first fets us upon the enquiry. Nothing can be called beautiful without proportion. When symmetry and harmony are wanting, neither the eye nor the ear can be pleased. Therefore certainly poetry, which includes painting and mufic, fhould not be deftitute of them; and of all poetry, especially the Ode, whose end and essence is harmony.

Mr. Cowley, in his Preface to his Pindaric Odes, fpeaking of the music of numbers, fays, "which fome"times (efpecially in Songs and Odes) almost without any thing else makes an excellent poet."

Having mentioned Mr. Cowley, it may very well be expected, that fomething fhould be faid of him, at a time when the imitation of Pindar is the theme of our difcourfe. But there is that great deference due to the memory, great parts, and learning of that gentleman, that I think nothing fhould be objected to the latitude he has taken in his Pindaric Odes. The beauty of his verfes, are an atonement for the irregularity of his ftanzas; and though he did not imitate Pindar in the ftrictness of his numbers, he has very often happily copied him in the force of his figures, and fublimity of his ftile and fentiments.

Yet I must beg leave to add, that I believe thofe irregular Odes of Mr. Cowley may have been the princi

pal,

pal, though innocent occafion, of fo many deformed poems fince, which, instead of being true pictures of Pindar, have (to use the Italian painters term) been only caricatures of him, refemblances that for the most part have been either horrid or ridiculous.

For my own part, I frankly own my error, in having heretofore mifcalled a few irregular stanzas a Pindaric Ode; and poffibly, if others, who have been under the fame mistake, would ingenuously confefs the truth, they might own, that, never having confulted Pindar himself, they took all his irregularity upon truft; and finding their account in the great eafe with which they could produce Odes without being obliged either to nicafure or defign, remained fatisfied; and it may be, were not altogether unwilling to neglect being undeceived.

Though there be little (if any thing) left of Orpheus but his name, yet if Paufanias was well informed, we may be affured, that brevity was a beauty which he moft induftriously laboured to preserve in his Hymns, notwithstanding, as the fame author reports, that they were but few in number.

The fhortnefs of the following Ode will, I hope, atone for the length of the Preface, and in fome meafure for the defects which may be found in it. It confifts of the fame number of stanzas with that beautiful Ode of Pindar, which is the first of his Pythics; and though I was unable to imitate him in any other beauty, I refolved to endeavour to copy his brevity, and take the advantage of a remark he has made in the

laft

laft Strophe of the fame Ode; which take in the paraphrafe of Sudorius.

"Qui multa paucis ftringere commode
"Novere, morfus hi facile invidos

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DAUGHTER of Memory, immortal Mufe,

Calliope; what poet wilt thou chuse,
Of Anna's name to fing?

To whom wilt thou thy fire impart,
Thy lyre, thy voice, and tuneful art ;

Whom raise fublime on thy ætherial wing,
And confecrate with dews of thy Caftalian spring?

II.

Without thy aid, the most aspiring mind
Muft flag beneath, to narrow flights confin'd,

Striving to rife in vain :

Nor e'er can hope with equal lays

To celebrate bright Virtue's praise.

Thy aid obtain'd, ev'n I, the humbleft fwain, May climb Pierian heights, and quit the lowly plain.

III.

High in the starry orb is hung,

And next Alcides' guardian arm,

That harp to which thy Orpheus fung,

Who woods, and rocks, and winds, could charm

That

That harp which on Cyllene's fhady hill,
When firft the vocal fhell was found,

With more than mortal skill

Inventer Hermes taught to found:
Hermes on bright Latona's fon,
By fweet perfuafion won,
The wondrous work bestow'd;
Latona's fon, to thine

Indulgent, gave the gift divine:
A god the gift, a god th' invention show'd.

I.

To that high-founding lyre I tune my strains ;
A lower note his lofty fong difdains

Who fings of Anna's name.

The lyre is ftruck! the founds I hear!

O Mufe, propitious to my prayer!

O well-known founds! O Melody, the fame

That kindled Mantuan fire, and rais'd Mæonian flame!

II.

Nor are these founds to British bards unknown,

Or fparingly reveal'd to one alone :
Witness sweet Spenfer's lays :

And witness that immortal fong,
As Spenfer fweet, as Milton ftrong,
Which humble Boyne o'er Tiber's flood could raife,
And mighty William fing, with well-proportion'd praife.

111.

Rife, fair Augusta, lift thy head,

With golden towers thy front adorn}
Come forth, as comes from Tithon's bed
With chearful ray the ruddy morn.

Thy

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