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Rofcommon, Habitual Innocence adorns her thoughts;
But your Neglect muft answer for her Faults.

Immodest Words admit of no Defence;

For want of Decency is want of Sense.

What mod'rate Fop wou'd rake the Park or Stews, Who among Troops of faultlefs Nymphs may choofe?

Variety of fuch is to be found;

Take then a fubject, proper to expound;
But moral, great, and worth a Poet's Voice,
For Men of fenfe defpife a trivial Choice:
And fuch Applaufe it must expect to meet,
As would fome Painter bufy in a Street,
To copy Bulls and Bears, and ev'ry Sign
That calls the ftaring Sots to nafty Wine.

Yet 'tis not all to have a Subject good,
It must delight us, when 'tis understood.
He that brings fulfom Objects to my View,
(As many Old have done, and many New)
With nauseous Images my fancy fills,
And all goes down like Oximel of Squills.
Inftruct the lift'ning World how Maro fings
Of useful Subjects, and of lofty Things.
Those will fuch true, fuch bright Ideas raife,
As merit Gratitude as well as Praife:
But foul Defcriptions are offenfive ftill,
Either for being like, or being ill.

For who, without a Qualm, hath ever look'd
On holy Garbage, tho' by Homer cook'd?
Whofe railing Heroes, and whofe wounded Gods,
Make fome fufpect, He fnores, as well as nods.
But I offend Virgil begins to frown,
And Horace looks with Indignation down:.
My blufhing Mufe with confcious Fear retires,
And whom they like, implicitly admires.

On fure foundations let your Fabrick rife, And with attractive Majefty furprise.

Not

Not by affected, meretricious Arts,

But ftrict harmonious Symmetry of Parts,

Which through the Whole infenfibly must pass,
With vital Heat to animate the Maís.

A pure, an active, an aufpicious Flame,

And bright as Heav'n, from whence the Bleffing

came;

But few, oh few Souls, preordain'd by Fate,
The Race of Gods, have reach'd that envy'd
.' Height,

No Rebel-Titan's facrilegious Crime,

By heaping Hills on Hills can thither climb.
The grizly Ferry-man of Hell deny'd
Aeneas Entrance, 'till he knew his Guide;

How justly then will impious Mortals fall,

Whofe Pride wou'd foar to Heav'n without a
Call?

Pride (of all others the most dang'rou Fault,)
Proceeds from want of Senfe, or want of Thought.
The Men, who labour and digeft things moft,
Will be much apter to defpond, than boaft.
For if your Author be profoundly good,
'Twill cost you dear, before he's understood.
How many Ages fince has Virgil writ?
How few are they who understand him yet?
Approach his Altars with religious Fear,
No vulgar Deity inhabits there:

Heav'n Ihakes not more at Jove's imperial Nod,
Than Poets fhou'd before their Mantuan God.
Hail mighty Maro! may that facred Name
Kindle my Breaft with thy celeftial Flame!
Sublime Ideas, and apt Words infuse, -

The Mufe inftruct my Voice, and thou infpire the
Mufe!

What I have inftanc'd only in the best,
Is, in proportion, true of all the reft.

Take pains, the genuine Meaning to explore;
There fweat, there strain, tug the laborious Oar:

Beisp. Samml. 3. B.

I

Search

Roscommon

Romfcomon Search ev'ry Comment that your Care can find,
Some here, fome there, may hit the Poet
Mind;

Yet be not blindly guided by the Throng;
The Multitude is always in the Wrong.
When Things appear unnatural or hard,
Confult your Author, with himself compar'd.
Who knows what Bleffing Phoebus may bestow,
And future Ages to your Labour owe?
Such Secrets are not eafily found out,

But once discover'd, leave no room for doubt.
Truth ftamps Conviction in your ravifh'd Breaft,
And Peace and Joy attend the glorious Guest.

John

John Philips.

Von dem oben (B. I. S. 449.) vorgekommenen Schäfers dichter Ambrose Philips ist der, vornehmlich in der Lehrgatz tung berühmte, englische Dichter John Philips zu unterscheiden, der von 1676 bis 1708 lebte. Auch von ihm hat män nur wenige Sedichte, unter welchen die komische Paros die der Miltonschen Schreibart, The Splendid Shilling, und Das Lehrgedicht, The Cyder, oder von der Bereitung des Aez pfelmoftes, die berühmtesten find. Dieß lettre ift Nachah mung des Virgilischen Gedichts vom Landbau, und hat, außer dem poetischen Verdienste, auch noch den Vorzug vols Tiger Wahrheit und Richtigkeit der darin ertheilten Anweifungen. Der auch unter uns berühmte Botanist und Gartenkenner Miller dußerte darüber gegen Dr. Johnson vas Urtheil, es gebe manche Bücher in Profe über die nåmliche Materie, die nicht so viel Wahres enthielten, als dieses Gedicht, welches sich auch durch die geschickte Anlegung des Plans, und durch eine wirklich Virgilische Verflechtung des Angenehmen und Gefühlvollen mit dem Nüglichen und Unterrichtenden empfiehlt. Von minder vertheilhafter Wirz kung ist, der, den Engländern sonst in Lehrgedichten nie gewöhnliche, Gebrauch reimloser Verse, den auch Dr. Johns son tadelt, weil diese Versart zu sehr an den feierlichen Gang des Heldengedichts erinnert, und leicht den poetischen Ausdruck über die hier weit engern Grånzen hinaus führt. -S. auch Dusch's Briefe, I. 9.

CYDER. (B. II.)

John Philips.

A thoufand accidents the farmer's hopes
Subvert, or check; uncertain all his toil,
'Till lufty autumn's luke-warm days allay'd
With gentle colds, infenfibly confirm
His ripening labours: autumn to the fruits
Earth's various lap produces, vigour gives
Equal, intenerating milky grain,

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John

ips.

Berries, and fky-dy'd Plumbs, and what in coat
Rough, or foft rind, or bearded hufk, or shell;
Fat Olives, and Pifacio's fragrant nut,

And the Pine's tafteful Apple: autumn paints
Aufonian hills with Grapes, whilft English
plains

Blush with pomaceous harvests, breathing fweets.
O let me now, when the kind early dew
Unlocks th' embofom'd odors, walle among
The well-rang'd files of trees, whofe full ag'd
ftore

Diffufe Ambrofial fteams, than Myrrh, or Nard
More grateful, or perfuming flow'ry Bean!
Soft whifp'ring airs, and the lark's matin fong
Then woo to mufing, and becalm the mind
Perplex'd with irkfome thoughts.

time,

Thrice happy

Beft portion of the various year, in which
Nature rejoiceth, fmiling on her works
Lovely, to full perfection wrought! but ah,
Short are our joys, and neighb'ring griefs di

fturb

Our pleasant hours. Inclement winter dwells
Contiguous; forthwith frofty blafts deface

The blithfome year: trees of their fhrivel'd

fruits

Are widow'd, dreary ftorms o'er all prevail.
Now, now's the time; ere hafty funs forbid
To work, difburden thou thy fapless wood
Of its rich progeny; the turgid fruit
Abounds with mellow liquor; now exhort
Thy hinds to exercife the pointed steel
On the hard rock, and give a wheely form
To the expected grinder: now prepare
Materials for thy mill, a fturdy poft
Cylindric, to fupport the grinder's weight
Exceffive, and a flexile fallow' entrench'd,
Rounding, capacious of the juicy hord.
Nor must thou not be mindful of thy prefs
Long ere the vintage; but with timely care

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