So well in paint and stone they judg'd of merit : 385 390 One knighted Blackmore, and one pension'd Quarles ; And nations wonder'd while they dropp'd the sword! And Asia's tyrants tremble at your throne But verse, alas! your Majesty disdains; There's nothing blackens like the ink of fools. 405 410 If true, a woful likeness; and if lies, 415 THE SECOND EPISTLE OF THE SECOND BOOK OF HORACE. DEAR Col'nel, COBHAM's and your country's You love a verse, take such as I can send. [Friend! · A Frenchman comes, presents you with his boy, Bows and begins—“ This lad, Sir, is of Blois : "Observe his shape how clean! his locks how curl'd! "My only son, I'd have him see the world: 66. 6. His French is pure; his voice too-you shall hear. "Sir, he's your slave, for twenty pound a year. "Mere wax as yet, you fashion him with ease, "Your barber, cook, upholst'rer, what you please: "A perfect genius at an op'ra-song "To say too much, might do my honour wrong. II. "But, Sir, to you, with what would I not part? 15 "Tho' faith, I fear, 'twill break his mother's heart. "Once. VER. I. Dear Col'nel,] Addressed to Colonel Cotterell of Rousham near Oxford, the descendant of Sir Charles Cotterell, who, at the desire of Charles the First, translated Davila into English. VER. 4." This lad, Sir, is of Blois : A town in Beauce, where the French tongue is spoken in great purity. “Once (and but once) I caught him in a lie, 66 (Could you o'erlook but that), it is, to steal." 20 If, after this, you took the graceless lad, Could you complain, my friend, he prov'd so bad? 25 Consider then, and judge me in this light ; I told you when I went, I could not write ; You said the same; and are you discontent With laws, to which you gave your own assent? 30 Nay worse, to ask for verse at such a time! D'ye think me good for nothing but to rhyme? In ANNA's wars, a soldier poor and old VER. 24. I think Sir Godfrey] Sir Godfrey Kneller. 35 40 Next |