COPY OF VERSES PREFIXED TO DRYDEN'S VIRGIL IN 1697.*
No undisputed monarch govern'd yet
With universal sway the realms of wit.
Nature could never such expense afford;
Each several province own'd a several lord.
A poet then had his poetic wife,
One Muse embraced, and married for his life:
By the stale thing his poetry was cloy'd,
His fancy lessen'd, and his fire destroy'd.
But Nature, grown extravagantly kind,
With all her fairest gifts adorn'd your
The different powers were then united found,
And you the universal monarch crown'd.
Your mighty sway your great desert secures,
And every Muse and every Grace is yours.
To none confined, by turns you all enjoy!
Sated with these, you to another fly;
* These verses have been omitted in the subsequent editions.
So, Sultan-like, in your seraglio stand,
While wishing Misses wait for your command;
Thus no decay, no want of vigour find;
Such is your fancy, boundless as your mind!
Not all the blasts of Time can do you wrong;
Young spite of age, in spite of weakness strong.
Time, like Alcides, strikes you to the ground;
You, like Antæus, from each fall rebound.
COPY OF VERSES PREFIXED TO "LE CHEF D'ŒUVRE D'UN INCONNU."
To the Ingenious and Learned Doctor Mathanasius, on his most elaborate Commentary on the excellent Masterpiece of an unknown Author.
GREAT MATHANASE, in quest of this rich ore,
You've boldly launched out new worlds to explore;
You've found a fruitful soil by none yet trod,
Reserved for heroes or some demi-god :
The product here you've bravely made your own,
And by just title you deserve a crown.
No undisputed monarch govern'd yet
With universal sway the realms of wit.
Nature could never such expense afford;
Each several province had a several lord.
But now, become extravagantly kind,
With all her treasures she adorns your mind:
Her different powers are here united found,
And you Wit's universal monarch crown'd.
Your mighty sway your great desert secures
And every Muse and every Grace is yours.
To none confined, by turns you all enjoy!
Sated with this, you to another fly.
So, Sultan-like, in your seraglio stand,
While wishing Misses wait for your command.
Thus no decay, no want of vigour find;
Sublime your fancy, boundless is your mind!
Not all the blasts of Time can do you wrong;
Young spite of age, in spite of weakness strong.
Time, like Alcides, strikes you to the ground;
You, like Antaeus, from each fall rebound.
LONG have I wander'd from the Muses' seat,
Where, ever present to the poet's eyes,
A thousand grateful objects rise;
Where all is gay and all is sweet;
Where, when past images we find
By Memory with these combined,
She from her store of fading sense can move,
And frame no fancy but of joy and love;
Where every Muse and every Grace resides,
The sacred temple where Apollo hides
From the profane and vulgar eyes
His awful mysteries.
This blooming garden of the Delian god
Long since I left, new paths to try;
On rough uneven ground I trod,
And sought the gloomy dark abode
Of Wisdom and Philosophy.
From hence escaped, with joy to thee I come;
Thee I revisit now, my native home!
That magic land no more I'll tread,
Nor drink of those lethargic streams,
That with their poison taint the blood,
And stop the sprightly purple flood,
That upward to the sickly head
Send lazy vapours-idle dreams.
Again I'll taste of the prophetic rill,
Which rises fast by the Pierian hill.
Phoebus all other nymphs forsook
To chase Castalia, young and fair:
To bathe in her delightful waves,
All other waters now he leaves;
He loosens here his golden hair,
And plunges in the lucid brook.
Once the coy maid refused the grace,
And would not suffer his divine embrace :
Now wiser grown, no more she'll fly,
But clasps the god, and hugs the naked deity.
As mariners their canvass wings distend,
Leaving the pole to every northern blast;
Southward their courses bend,
And th' arctic circle past,
The temperate zone with pleasure meet,
With pleasure feel the growing heat;
And as they nearer to him run,
Salute the long abandon'd Sun :
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