But, if a deed not tamely to be born
Fire indignation and a sense of scorn,
The ftrings are swept with fuch a pow'r, fo loud,
The ftorm of mufic fhakes th' aftonish'd crowd.
So, when remote futurity is brought
Before the keen inquiry of her thought,
A terrible fagacity informs
The poet's heart; he looks to diftant storms;
He hears the thunder ere the tempeft low'rs;
And, arm'd with ftrength furpaffing human pow'rs,
Seizes events as yet unknown to man,
And darts his foul into the dawning plan..
Hence, in a Roman mouth, the graceful name
Of prophet and of poet was the fame;
Hence British poets, too, the priesthood shar'd,
And ev'ry hallow'd druid was a bard,
But no prophetic fires to me belong;
I play with fyllables, and sport in fong.
A. At Westminster, where little poets strive To fet a diftich upon fix and five,
Where difcipline helps op'ning buds of fenfe,
And makes his pupils proud with filver-pence,
I was a poet too: but modern taste
Is fo refin'd, and delicate, and chafte,
That verfe, whatever fire the fancy warms,
Without a creamy fmoothness has no charms.
Thus, all fuccefs depending on an ear,
And thinking I might purchase it too dear,
If fentiment were facrific'd to found,
And truth cut fhort to make a period round,
I judg'd a man of sense could scarce do worse
Than caper in the morris-dance of verse.
B. Thus reputation is a fpur to wit,
And fome wits flag through fear of lofing it.
Give me the line that plows its stately course
Like a proud fwan, conq'ring the ftream by force;
That, like fome cottage beauty, strikes the heart,
Quite unindebted to the tricks of art.
When labour and when dullness, club in hand,
Like the two figures at St. Dunstan's, ftand,
Beating alternately, in meafur'd time,
The clock-work tintinabulum of rhime,
Exact and regular the sounds will be;
But fuch mere quarter-ftrokes are not for me.
From him who rears a poem lank and long,
To him who strains his all into a fong;
Perhaps fome bonny Caledonian air,
All birks and braes, though he was never there;
Or, having whelp'd a prologue with great pains,
Feels himself spent, and fumbles for his brains.
A prologue interdafh'd with many a stroke-
An art contriv'd to advertise a joke,
So that the jeft is clearly to be feen,
Not in the words-but in the gap
Manner is all in all, whate'er is writ,
The substitute for genius, fense, and wit.
To dally much with subjects mean and low Proves that the mind is weak, or makes it fo. Neglected talents ruft into decay,
And ev'ry effort ends in push-pin play.
The man that means fuccefs fhould foar above
A foldier's feather, or a lady's glove;
Elfe, fummoning the mufe to fuch a theme,
The fruit of all her labour is whipt-cream.
As if an eagle flew aloft, and then—
Stoop'd from its highest pitch to pounce a wren.
As if the poet, purpofing to wed,
Should carve himself a wife in gingerbread.
Ages elaps'd ere Homer's lamp appear'd,
And ages ere the Mantuan swan was heard:
To carry nature lengths unknown before,
To give a Milton birth, afk'd ages more.
Thus genius rofe and fet at order'd times,
And fhot a day-fpring into distant climes,
Ennobling ev'ry region that he chofe;
He funk in Greece, in Italy he rose;
And, tedious years of Gothic darkness pass'd,
Emerg'd all splendour in our isle at last.
Thus lovely halcyons dive into the main,
Then show far off their fhining plumes again.
A. Is genius only found in epic lays?
Prove this, and forfeit all pretence to praise.
Make their heroic pow'rs your own at once,
Or candidly confefs yourself a dunce.
B. These were the chief: each interval of night
Was grac'd with many an undulating light.
In lefs illuftrious bards his beauty fhone
A meteor, or a ftar; in thefe, the fun.
The nightingale may claim the topmost bough,
While the poor grafshopper muft chirp below:
Like him, unnotic'd, I, and fuch as I,
Spread little wings, and rather skip than fly;
Perch'd on the meagre produce of the land,
An ell or two of profpect we command;
But never peep beyond the thorny bound,
Or oaken fence, that hems the paddoc round.
In Eden, ere yet innocence of heart
Had faded, poetry was not an art;
Language, above all teaching, or, if taught,
Only by gratitude and glowing thought,
|