Chafte moral writing we may learn from hence;
Neglect of which no wit can recompence.
The fountain which from Helicon proceeds,
That facred ftream! fhould never water weeds;
Nor make the crop of thorns and thistles grow,
Which envy or perverted nature sow.
Well-founding verfes are the charm we use,
Heroic thoughts and virtue to infuse:
Things of deep fenfe we may in profe unfold;
But they move more in lofty numbers told:
By the loud trumpet, which our courage aids,
We learn that found, as well as sense, perfuades.
The Mufe's friend, unto himself severe,
With filent pity looks on all that err:
But where a brave, a public action shines,
That he rewards with his immortal lines.
Whether it be in council or in fight,
His country's honour is his chief delight:
Praise of great acts he scatters as a feed,
Which may the like in coming ages breed.
Here taught the fate of verfes (always priz'd
With admiration, or as much defpis'd)
Men will be lefs indulgent to their faults;
And patience have to cultivate their thoughts.
Poets lose half the praise they should have got,
Could it be known what they difcreetly blot:
Finding new words, that to the ravish'd ear
May like the language of the Gods appear:
Such as, of old, wife bards employ'd, to make
Unpolish'd men their wild retreats forfake:
Law-giving Heroes, fam'd for taming brutes,
And raising cities with their charming lutes.
For rudeft minds with harmony were caught,
And civil life was by the Muses taught.
So, wandering bees would perish in the air,
Did not a found, .proportion'd to their ear,
Appeafe. their rage, invite them to the hive,
Unite their force, and teach them how to thrive :
To rob the flowers, and to forbear the spoil;
Preferv'd in winter by their fummer's toil:
They give us food, which may with nectar vie,
And wax, that does the absent sun supply...
AD COMITEM MONUMETENSEM De BENTIVOGLIO fuo..
LORIBUS Angligenis non hanc tibi necto corollam,
Cùm fatis indigenis te probet ipfe liber:
Per me Roma fciet tibi se debere, quòd Anglo
Romanus didicit cultiùs ore loqui.
Ultima quæ tellus Aquilas duce Cæfare vidit..
Candida Romulidum te duce fcripta videt.
Confilio ut quondam Patriam nil juveris esto! ·
Sed ftudio cives ingenioque juvas..
Namque dolis liber hic inftructus, & arte Batava,
A Belga nobis ut caveamus, ait..
Horremus per te civilis dira furoris
Vulnera; difcordes Flandria quaffa, monet.
Hic difcat miles pugnare, orare fenator;
Qui regnant, leni fceptra tenere manu.
Macte, Comes! virtute novâ; veftri ordinis ingens
Ornamentum, ævi deliciæque tui !
Dum ftertunt alii fomno vinoque fepulti,.
Nobilis antiquo ftemmate digna facis.
TO MR. KILLEGREW,
Upon his altering his Play PANDORA, from a Tragedy into a Comedy, because not approved on the Stage.
IR, you should rather teach our age the way
Of judging well, than thus have chang'd your Play:
You had oblig'd us by employing wit,
Not to reform Pandora, but the Pit.
For, as the nightingale, without the throng
Of other birds, alone attends her fong;
While the loud daw, his throat displaying, draws
The whole affembly of his fellow daws :
So muft the writer, whose productions should
Take with the vulgar, be of vulgar mould:
Whilft nobler fancies make a flight too high
For common view, and leffen as they fly.
On the Duke of MONMOUTH'S Expedition into SCOTLAND, in the Summer Solstice.
WIFT as Jove's meffenger (* the winged god) with word as
With fword as potent as his charming rod,
He flew to execute the King's command:
And, in a moment, reach'd that northern land;
Where day, contending with approaching night,
Affifts the Hero with continued light.
On foes furpriz'd, and by no night conceal'd,
He might have rufh'd; but noble pity held
His hand a while, and to their choice gave space,
Which they would prove, his valour or his grace.
This not well heard, his cannon louder spoke,
And then, like lightning, through that cloud he
broke.
His fame, his conduct, and that martial look,
The guilty Scots with such a terror ftrook;
That to his courage they refign the field,
Who to his bounty had refus'd to yield.
Glad that fo little loyal blood it cost,
He grieves fo many Britons fhould be loft:
Taking more pains, when he beheld them yield,
To fave the flyers, than to win the field:
And at the Court his intereft does employ
That none, who 'scap'd his fatal sword, fhould die,
And now, these rash bold men their error find,
Not trufting one, beyond his promise kind :
One! whose great mind, so bountiful and brave,
Had learn'd the art to conquer and to fave.
In vulgar breasts no royal virtues dwell;
Such deeds as these his high extraction tell:
And give a fecret joy to * him that reigns,
To fee his blood triumph in Monmouth's veins :
To fee a leader, whom he got and chofe,
Firm to his friends, and fatal to his foes.
But feeing envy, like the fun, does beat
With fcorching rays, on all that 's high and great:
This, ill-requited Monmouth! is the bough
The Mufes fend, to fhade thy conquering brow.
Lampoons, like fquibs, may make a prefent blaze;
But time and thunder pay respect to bays.
Achilles' arms dazzle our prefent view;
Kept by the Mufe as radiant, and as new,
As from the forge of Vulcan firft they came;
Thousands of years are past, and they the fame."
Such care she takes to pay defert with fame!
Than which, no Monarch, for his crown's defence,
Knows how to give a nobler recompence.
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