Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB
[merged small][graphic]

POPE, BY RICHARDSON, COPIED FROM THE ORIGINAL EDITION OF THE PROSE WORKS.

Poems.

ODE ON SOLITUDE.

HAPPY the man, whose wish and care

A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air

In his own ground.

Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,

In winter fire.

Blest, who can unconcern'dly find

Hours, days, and years slide soft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,

Quiet by day.

Sound sleep by night; study and ease,
Together mixt; sweet recreation :
And innocence, which most does please

With meditation.

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,
Thus unlamented let me die,

Steal from the world, and not a stone

Tell where I lie.

[In a letter to Henry Cromwell, July 17, 1709, Pope says-" Having a vacant space here, I will fill it with a short Ode on Solitude, which I found yesterday by great accident, and which I find by the date was written when I was not twelve years old; that you may perceive how long I have continued in my passion for a rural life, and in the same employment of it."

The original letter is now before us-a beautiful specimen of penmanship -and it confirms what we have said as to Pope's correction of his early pieces. Two lines in the first stanza of the poem had been erased and rewritten, and stand as follows:

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]

And in the first line of the fourth verse, instead of "sound sleep by night," we have "repose at night." Very little of the original poem, written in the poet's twelfth year, can now remain. Dr. Johnson considered there was nothing in this piece more than other forward boys have attained, and that it was not equal to Cowley's performances at the same age. It is more correct, the distinguishing feature of Pope's early poems; but as it is always interesting to compare such manifestations of genius, we subjoin an effusion of Cowley's in the same sentimental strain, written when he was thirteen years old. "The beginning of it," Cowley himself observes, "is boyish, but of this part which I here set down (if a very little were corrected) I should hardly now be much ashamed: "

"This only grant me that my means may lie
Too low for envy, for contempt too high.

Some honour I would have,

Not from good deeds, but good alone:
The unknown are better than ill known,

Rumour can ope the grave.

Acquaintance I would have, but when it depends
Not on the number, but the choice of friends.

Books should, not business, entertain the light,
And sleep, as undisturb'd as death, the night,
My house a cottage more

Than palace, and should fitting be

For all my use, no luxury.

My garden painted o'er

With Nature's hand, not Art's, and pleasures yield
Horace might envy in his Sabine field.

Thus would I double my life's fading space-
For he that runs it well, twice runs his race;
And in this true delight—

These unbought sports, that happy state

I would not fear nor wish my fate,

But boldly say each night,

To-morrow let my sun his beams display,

Or in clouds hide them-I have lived to-day!"

The paraphrase of Horace in the concluding lines is obvious enough; but the poem is wonderful for a boy of thirteen, who published a collection of poems at fifteen.]

TO THE

AUTHOR OF A POEM ENTITLED SUCCESSIO.

BEGONE, ye critics, and restrain your spite,
Codrus writes on, and will for ever write.
The heaviest Muse the swiftest course has gone,
As clocks run fastest when most lead is on;
What though no bees around your cradle flew,
Nor on your lips distill'd the golden dew,
Yet have we oft discover'd in their stead
A swarm of drones that buzz'd about your head.
When you, like Orpheus, strike the warbling lyre,
Attentive blocks stand round you and admire.
Wit pass'd through thee no longer is the same,
As meat digested takes a different name,
But sense must sure thy safest plunder be,
Since no reprisals can be made on thee.
Thus thou may'st rise, and in thy daring flight
(Though ne'er so weighty) reach a wondrous height.
So, forced from engines, lead itself can fly,

And pond'rous slugs move nimbly through the sky.
Sure Bavius copied Mævius to the full,
And Chærilus taught Codrus to be dull;
Therefore, dear friend, at my advice give o'er
This needless labour; and contend no more
To prove a dull succession to be true,
Since 'tis enough we find it so in you.

[The author of "Successio" was Elkanah Settle, the London City Poet, the Doeg of Dryden's satire. Pope, as the legitimate successor of "Glorious John," continued his feuds and enmities, as well as his friendships, and Elkanah occupies a prominent place in the Dunciad. Settle's poem was written on the accession of Queen Anne in 1702. He had previously dis. tinguished himself by writing against the Duke of York, after James II., as the Popish Successor.]

« ZurückWeiter »