Here (fhall he cry) once throng'd the young and gay,
Here laugh'd and fung, and charm'd their cares away.
At mafs or play, unmask'd or mafk'd the fame,
Love all their motive! pleafure all their aim!
Yet, in this whirlpool found the Arts a place,
And temples rofe, which ancient Rome might grace,
Deck'd with the fpoils of many a falling pile,
That erft o'erlook'd the Bofphorus or Nile:
Statues, that borrow'd life from Phydias' hand,
And palaces, by chafte Palladio plann'd:
Models of tafte! which Attic palms might win,
And with Lyfippus clafs a Sanfovin.
Oft have the curious of a diftant foil,
Deriv'd new lights from learn'd Farfetti's toil:
Whofe treasures, drawn from mines of claffic earth,
Befpoke a fpirit noble as his birth.
But humbled now the wonder of her age,
Sad proof of change, and Time's deftructive rage!
Bare thefe canals to Alpine breezes lie;
Where row'd the ftately barge the fishers ply:
Once more a village-Venice all deplore.
She proves what Trieste may be, and Tadmor was before,
The METHOD of STUDIES for a YOUNG PAINTER.
[From Mr. MASON's Tranflation of Du FRESNOY's Art of Painting.]
WHEN duly taught each geometric rule,
Approach with awful thep the Grecian school,
The fculptur'd reliques of her fkill furvey,
Mufe on by night, and imitate by day;
No reft, no paufe, till all her graces known,
A happy habit makes each grace your own.
As years advance, to modern masters come,
Gaze on their glories in majeftic Rome;
Admire the proud productions of their skill
Which Venice, Parma, and Bologna fill;
And, rightly led by our perceptive lore,
Their ftyle, their colouring, part by part explore,
See Raphael there his forms celeftial trace,
Unrivall'd fov'reign of the realms of Grace.
See Angelo, with energy divine,
Seize on the fummit of correct design.
Learn how, at Julio's birth, the Mufes fmil'd,
And in their myftic caverns nurs'd the child,
How, by th' Aonian powers their smile bestow'd,
His pencil with poetic fervor glow'd;
When faintly verfe Apollo's charms convey'd,
He oped the fhrine, and all the God difplay'd:
His triumphs more than mortal pomp adorns,
With more than mortal rage his battle burns,
His heroes, happy heirs of fav'ring fame,
More from his art than from their actions claim.
Bright, beyond all the reft, Correggio flings
His ample lights, and round them gently brings
The mingling fhade. In all his works we view
Grandeur of ftyle, and chastity of hue.
Yet higher ftill great Titian dar'd to foar,
He reach'd the loftieft heights of colouring's power;
His friendly tints in happiett mixture flow,
His fhades and lights their just gradations know,
He knew thofe dear delufions of the art,
That round, relieve, infpirit ev'ry part:
Hence deem'd divine, the world his merit own'd,
With riches loaded, and with honours crown'd.
From all their charms combin'd, with happy toil,
Did Annibal compofe his wond'rous style:
O'er the fair fraud fo close a veil is thrown,
That every borrow'd Grace becomes his own.
If then to praife like theirs your fouls afpire,
Catch from their works a portion of their fire;
Revolve their labours all, for all will teach,
Their finish'd picture, and their flightest sketch.
Yet more than thefe to Meditation's eyes
Great Nature's felf redundantly fupplies:
Her prefence, best of models! is the fource
Whence Genius draws augmented power and force;
Her precepts, best of teachers! give the powers,
Whence Art, by practice, to perfection foars.
COMPLAINT of POETRY's not being encouraged in the Prefent AGE.
[From Mr. PYE's Progrefs of Refinement.]
UT ah! while thus the Arts inferior train
Thrive in the funfhine of a George's reign;
Sweet Poefy, whofe facred powers exceed
The fculptor's chifel, and the painter's reed,
Whofe pen has Virtue's moral fhape defign'd,
And drawn the immortal image of the mind,
Whofe magic founds to melody difpenfe
The flowers of fancy, and the force of fenfe;
Sweet Poefy, neglected and forlorn,
The feeble rays of patronage must mourn.
By wealth or wifdom placed in happier state
Tho' a bold few difdain to court the great;
Tho' Malon frame the warm defcriptive lay,
Or strike the lyre with Pindar, and with Gray;
Tho' liftening Harmony with raptured ear
Attentive ftand, the enchanting notes to hear,
As failing on the rainbow-tinctured wings
Of chafte Imagination, Hayley fings:
In plaintive strains at fighing Friendship's call
Tho' tuneful Seward mourn her André's fall,
And wrap the felon cord that closed his breath
In radiant Glory's amaranthine wreath ;
Tho' Warton, young-cyed Fancy's favorite child,
On whofe aufpicious birth the Mufes fmil'd,
And taught his glowing colours to pourtray
The rural landscape, and the vernal day,
With claffic art his flowing numbers fill,
And join the critic's to the poet's skill;
Yet as with ftreaming eye the forrowing Mufe
Pale Chatterton's untimely urn bedews,
Her accents fhall arraign the partial care
That thielded not her fon from cold despair:
And many a bard by frowning Fortune led
To abject intereft bows the venal head,
Compell'd to point with cruel wit the dart
That wing'd by malice rives the blameless heart,
Or ideot pride by flavish notes to raise,
And caft to fwine the precious gems of praife.
O let, imperial George! the Mufes fhare
The kindly dews of thy parental care.
Too oft has Poefy with fervile aim
By tyrants favour'd, fung a tyrant's fame.
O let one monarch wake her nobler rage,
And confecrate to truth her holy page!
Raifed by thy hand, I fee on Albion's plain
The feeds of Grecian glory bloom again!
See Genius plume once more her eagle wing,
Hear other Homers, other Shakspeares fing!
And while their voice down Time's eternal flood
Wafts the clear honours of the wife and good,
Ages unborn fhall bless the just decree,
And future heroes owe their fame to thee.
[From Mr. COLMAN's Tranflation of Horace's Epistle to the Pifos.]
HE barb'rous natives of the fhaggy wood
THE
From horrible repafts, and acts of blood,
Orpheus, a priest, and heav'nly teacher brought,
And all the charities of nature taught:
Whence he was faid fierce tigers to allay,
And fing the Savage Lion from his prey.
Within the hollow of Amphion 's fhell
Such pow'rs of found were lodg'd, fo fweet a fpell!
That ftones were faid to move, and at his call,
Charm'd to his purpose, form'd the Theban wall.
The love of moral wisdom to infufe
These were the labours of the Ancient Mufe.
"To mark the limits, where the barriers stood
'Twixt private in'treft, and the public good;
To raife a pale, and firmly to maintain
The bound, that fever'd facred from prophane;
To fhew the ills promifcuous love fhould dread,
And teach the laws of the connubial bed;
Mankind difpers'd, to focial towns to draw;
And on the Sacred tablet grave the law."
Thus fame and honour crown'd the Poet's line;
His work immortal, and himself divine!
Next lofty Homer, and Tyrtæus ftrung
Their epick harps, and fongs of glory fung;
Sounding a charge, and calling to the war
The fouls that bravely feel, and nobly dare.
In verfe the Oracles their fenfe made known,
In verle the road and rule of life is fhewn;
Verse to the Poet royal favour brings,
And leads the Mufes to the throne of kings;
Verfe too, the varied scene and sports prepares,
Brings reft to toil, and balm to all our cares.
Deem then with rev'rence of the glorious fire,
Breath'd by the Mufe, the miftrefs of the Lyre!
Blush not to own her pow'r, her glorious flame;
Nor think Apollo, Lord of fong, thy fhame!
ADVICE to a YOUNG GENTLEMAN at WINCHESTER School.
[From Dr. DUNCAN's Moral Hints to the rifing Generation.]
OUSE then, exert thy talents, neither weak,
Nor 'mid the fons of dulnefs doom'd to sneak.
Get learning; 'tis the grace of Science fair,
That gives the lib'ral mind it's noblest air.
Get Knowledge: it enfures enjoyment true,
Fit felt efteem, a claim to rev'rence due.
Get Wisdom: in her train the virtues fhine,
Thy guides, with Hope and Faith, to bifs divine.
Get Wildom.-Arduous aim !-Not hopeiefs. Run.
Begin. Half-ended is the race begun.
Fleet, ev'n at starting for the victor's meed,
Fly, the whole courfe is glowing; flecter speed.
The ftripling drone, for life a driv'ler, ends
A fhame, a burthen to himself and friends.
Blank as decrepitude fhall youth fit by,
Manhood, unmark'd by one flight merit, dye.
Lo! yon dull clown, bends o'er his fork, demurs,
Yawns, liftlefs eves the gliding ftream, nor ftirs;
But waits it's gliding off, that gliding still
From ages, to fuceedent ages will.
As idly toil thefe dolts, in chace as vain
Of air-guilt bubbles, pleasure, grandeur, gain.
Ill does an earth-worm's offal, thy purfuit,
Bafe worldling, a celeftial fpirit fuit;
Born to hold commerce with it's kindred skies,
From ftrength to strength to glory born to rife.-
"Who talks of fpirit? All corporeal grown,
"Each thinks of feeming now, of being none,
"A brilliant equipage, a modifh wife,
"The flutter, noife, and outfide glare of life.
"In building, gard'ning, fordid is the plan,
"That fuits the rank and fortune of the man;
"Abject the taste, that stoops to things of ufe.
"Poor the beft-order'd board, if not profufe.".
Rare noftrums thefe, to heal a fev'rish heart!
A&t thou the rational, the decent part,
Which truth, pure nature, and religion trace,
With moral dignity, with manly grace;
Fair Virtue's offspring, Pleafure, lovely ward
Of Heav'n-taught Wifdom, fhall thy truth reward,
With Grandeur, Gain, unfullied as the ray,
That gilds yon fky-topt dome in cloudless day;
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