Hard was the lot thofe injur'd ftrains endur'd,
Unown'd by Science, and by years obfcur'd,
Fair Fancy wept; and echoing fighs confefs'd
A fixt despair in ev'ry tuneful breast.
Not with more grief th' afflicted swains appear,
When wintry winds deform the plenteous year;
When ling'ring frofts the ruin'd seats invade
Where Peace reforted, and the Graces play'd..
Each rifing art by just gradation moves,
Toil builds on toil, and age on age improves :
The Mufe alone unequal dealt her rage,
And grac'd with nobleft pomp her earliest stage.
Preferv'd thro' time, the speaking scenes impart
Each changeful wifh of Phædra's tortur'd heart:
Or paint the curfe, that mark'd the d Theban's reign,
A bed incestuous, and a father flain.
With kind concern our pitying eyes o'erflow,
Trace the fad tale, and own another's woe.
To Rome remov'd, with wit fecure to please,
The Comic fifters kept their native ease.
With jealous fear declining Greece beheld
Her own Meander's art almost excell'd!
But ev'ry Mufe effay'd to raise in vain.
Some labour'd rival of her Tragic strain ;
Ilyffus' laurels, tho' transferr'd with toil,
Droop'd their fair leaves, nor knew th' unfriendly foil.
As arts expir'd, refistless Dulness rofe;
Goths, priefts, or Vandals,-all were Learning's foes.
Till Julius first recall'd each exil'd maid,
And Cofmo own'd them in th' Etrurian shade:
Then deeply skill'd in love's engaging theme,
The foft Provencial pass'd to Arno's ftream:
With graceful ease the wanton lyre he ftrung,
Sweet flow'd the lays-but love was all he fung.
The gay defcription could not fail to move;
For, led by nature, all are friends to love.
But heav'n, ftill various in its works, decreed
The perfect boaft of time should last fucceed.
The beauteous union must appear at length,
Of Tuscan fancy, and Athenian ftrength:
One greater Muse Eliza's reign adorn,
And ev'n a Shakespear to her fame be born!
Yet ah! fo bright her morning's opening ray,
In vain our Britain hop'd an equal day!
No fecond growth the western ifle could bear,
At once exhausted with too rich a year.
Too nicely Johnson knew the critic's part;
Nature in him was almost lost in art.
Of fofter mold the gentle Fletcher came,
The next in order, as the next in name,
With pleas'd attention 'midft his scenes we find
Each glowing thought, that warms the female mind;
Julius II. the immediate predecessor of Leo X.
Each melting figh, and ev'ry tender tear,
The lover's wishes and the virgin's fear.
His fev'ry ftrain the Smiles and Graces own;
But ftronger Shakespear felt for Man alone:
Drawn by his pen, our ruder passions stand
Th' unrival'd picture of his early hand.
8 With gradual fteps, and flow, exacter France
Saw Art's fair empire o'er her shores advance :
By length of toil a bright perfection knew,
Correctly bold, and juft in all fhe drew.
Till late Corneille, with " Lucan's fpirit fir'd,
Breath'd the free ftrain, as Rome and He inspir'd:
And claffic judgment gain'd to fweet Racine
The temp'rate ftrength of Maro's chafter line.
But wilder far the British laurel spread,
And wreaths less artful crown our poet's head.
Yet He alone to ev'ry scene could give
Th' hiftorian's truth, and bid the manners live.
Wak'd at his call I view, with glad furprize,
Majeftic forms of mighty monarchs rise.
↑ Their characters are thus diftinguished by Dryden.
8 About the time of Shakespear, the poet Hardy was in great repute in France. He wrote, according to Fontenelle, fix hundred plays. The French poets after him applied themfelves in general to the correct improvement of the stage, which was almost totally difregarded by thofe of our own country, Johnfon excepted.
The favourite author of the elder Corneille.
There Henry's trumpets fpread their loud alarms,
And laurel'd Conquest waits her hero's arms.
Here gentler Edward claims a pitying figh,
Scarce born to honours, and fo foon to die!
Yet fhall thy throne, unhappy infant, bring
No beam of comfort to the guilty king:
The time fhall come, when Glo'fter's heart fhall bleed
In life's laft hours, with horror of the deed:
When dreary visions shall at last present
Thy vengeful image in the midnight tent,
Thy hand unfeen the secret death shall bear,
Blunt the weak fword, and break th' oppreffive fpear.
Where-e'er we turn, by Fancy charm'd, we find
Some sweet illufion of the cheated mind.
Oft, wild of wing, fhe calls the foul to rove
With humbler nature, in the rural grove;
Where fwains contented own the quiet fcene,
And twilight fairies tread the circled green:
Dress'd by her hand, the Woods and Vallies smile,
And Spring diffusive decks th' inchanted isle.
O more than all in pow'rful genius bleft,
Come, take thine empire o'er the willing breast!
Whate'er the wounds this youthful heart shall feel,
Thy fongs fupport me, and thy morals heal!
i Tempus erit Turno, magna cum optaverit emptum Intactum pallanta, &c.
There ev'ry thought the poet's warmth may raise,
There native mufick dwells in all the lays.
O might some verse with happiest skill perfuade
Expreffive Picture to adopt thine aid!
What wond'rous draughts might rife from ev'ry page!
What other Raphaels charm a distant age!
Methinks ev'n now I view fome free defign,
Where breathing Nature lives in ev'ry line:
Chafte and fubdu'd the modeft lights decay,
Steal into fhades, and mildly melt away.
-And fee, where * Anthony in tears approv'd,
Guard the pale relicks of the chief he lov’d:
Over the cold corse the warrior feems to bend,
Deep funk in grief, and mourns his murder'd friend!
Still as they prefs, he calls on all around,
Lifts the torn robe, and points the bleeding wound.
But who is he, whofe brows exalted bear
A wrath impatient, and a fiercer air?
Awake to all that injur'd worth can feel,
On his own Rome he turns th' avenging steel.
Yet fhall not War's infatiate fury fall,
(So heav'n ordains it) on the destin❜d wall.
See the fond mother 'midst the plaintive train
Hung on his knees, and proftrate on the plain!
See the tragedy of Julius Cæfar.
1 Coriolanus. See Mr. Spence's dialogue on the Odyssey.
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