Now with Furies furrounded, Defpairing, confounded, He trembles, he glows, Amidst Rhodope's fnows: See, wild as the winds, o'er the defert he flies; 110 Hark! Haemus refounds with the Bacchanals cries Ah fee, he dies! Yet ev'n in death Eurydice he fung, Eurydice ftill trembled on his tongue, Eurydice the woods, Eurydice the floods, Eurydice the rocks, and hollow mountains rung. VII. Mufic the fierceft grief can charm, And fate's feverest rage difarm: Mufic can foften pain to ease, And make defpair and madness please: Our joys below it can improve, And antedate the blifs above. NOTES. 115 120 VER. 108.] I am afraid there is a trivial antithefis in thefe lines betwixt the words fnows and glows, unworthy our author. VER. 112.] The death is expreffed with a brevity and abruptness suitable to the nature of the ode. Instead of he fung, Virgil fays, vocabat, which is more natural and tender, and adds a moving epithet, that he called miferam Eurydicen. The repetition of Eurydice in two very fhort lines hurts the ear, which Virgil escaped by interpofing several other words; and the name itself happens not to be harmonious enough to fuffer fuch repetition. VER. 118. Mufic the fierceft] This is fuch a clofe repetition of the subject of the second stanza, that it must be thought a blameable tautology. This the divine Cecilia found, And to her Maker's praife confin'd the found. 126 Th' immortal pow'rs incline their ear; Borne on the swelling notes our fouls aspire, While folemn airs improve the facred fire; And Angels lean from heav'n to hear. Of Orpheus now no more let Poets tell, To bright Cecilia greater pow'r is giv'n; His numbers rais'd a fhade from hell, Her's lift the foul to heav'n, NOTES. 130 VER, 131. It is obfervable that this ode, as well as that of Dryden, concludes with an epigram of four lines; a fpecies of witty writing as flagrantly unfuitable to the dignity, and as foreign to the nature of the lyric, as it is of the epic mufe. IF we caft a tranfient view over the most celebrated of the modern lyrics, we may observe that the ftanza of Petrarch, which has been adopted by all his fucceffors, displeases the ear, by its tedious uniformity, and by the number of identical cadences. And, indeed, to speak truth, there appears to be little valuable in Petrarch, except the purity of his diction. His fentiments, even of love, are metaphyfical and far-fetched, Neither is there much variety in his fubjects, or fancy in his method of treating them. Fulvio Tefti, Chiabrera, and Metaftafio, are much better lyric poets. When Boileau attempted an ode, he exhibited a glaring proof of what will frequently be hinted in the course of thefe notes, that the writer, whofe grand characteristical talent is fatiric or moral poetry, will never fucceed, with equal merit, in the higher branches of his art. In his ode on the taking Namur, are inftances of the bombaftic, of the profaic, and of the puerile; and it is no fmall confirmation of the ruling paffion of this author, that he could not conclude his ode, but with a fevere ftroke on his old old antagonist Perrault, though the majefty of this fpecies of compofition is fo much injured by defcending to perfonal fatire. The name of Malherbe is refpectable, as he was the first reformer of the French poefy, and the first who gave his countrymen any idea of a legitimate ode, though his own pieces have hardly any thing but harmony to recommend them. The odes of La Motte, though fo highly praised by Sanadon, and by Fontenelle, are fuller of delicate fentiment, and philofophical reflection, than of imagery, figures, and poetry. There are particular stanzas eminently good, but not one intire ode. Some of Rouffeau's, particularly that to Fortune, and fome of his Pfalms; and one or two of Voltaire's, particularly, to the King of Pruffia on his acceffion to the throne, and on Maeupertuis's travels to the North, to measure the degrees of the meridian toward the equator, seem to rife above that exact mediocrity which distinguishes the lyric poetry of the French. "We have had (says Mr. Gray) in our language, no other odes of the fublime kind, than that of Dryden on St. Cecilia's Day: for Cowley, who had his merit, yet wanted judgment, style, and harmony, for fuch a task. That of Pope is not worthy of fo great a master. Mr. Mafon, indeed of late days, has touched the true chords, and with a masterly hand, in some of his choruses; above all in the last of Caractacus ; "Hark! heard ye not yon footstep dread?" &c. Gray's Works, 4to. page 25. YR STROPHE I. E fhades, where facred truth is fought; And Epicurus lay infpir'd! In vain your guiltlefs laurels ftood Unfpotted long with human blood. War, horrid war, your thoughtful Walks invades, And steel now glitters in the Mufes fhades. NOTES. 5 Altered from Shakefpear by the Duke of Buckingham, at whofe defire these two Chorus's were composed to supply as many, wanting in his play. They were fet many years afterward by the famous Bononcini, and performed at Buckingham-houfe. P. VER. 3. Where heav'nly vifions Plato fir'd, And Epicurus lay infpir'd!] The propriety of thefe lines arifes from hence, that Brutus, one of the Heroes of this play, was of the Old Academy; and Caffius, the other, was an Epicurean. W. I cannot be perfuaded that Pope thought of Brutus and Caffius, as being followers of different fects of philofophy. Oh ANTIS TROPHE I. Oh heav'n-born fifters! fource of art! Who charm the fenfe, or mend the heart; To what new clime, what distant sky, Say, will ye bless the bleak Atlantic fhore? STROPHE II. When Athens finks by fates unjust, And Athens rifing near the pole! Till fome new Tyrant lifts his purple hand, NOTES. ΙΟ 15 20 VER. 12. Moral Truth, and myftic Song!] The conftruction is dubious. Does the poet address Moral Truth and Myftic Song, as being the Heaven-born Sifters; or does he address himself to the Mufes, mentioned in the preceding line, and fo make Moral Truth and Myftic Song to be a part of Virtue's train? As Hefiod begins his poem. Dr. Warburton's propofed correction is not confiftent with either conftruction, when he says, the poet had expreffed himself better had he faid Moral Truth in Myftic Song. Moral Truth, a fingle perfon, can neither be the Heaven-born Sifters, nor yet, alone, the train of Virtue. If it could, the emendation might have been fpared, because this is no uncommon figure in poetry. The metre is unskilfully broken by the want of a fyllable in this line. Ye |