Back'd by his Friends, th' Invader brought along?
A Crew of foreign Words into our Tongue,
To ruin and enflåve the free-born English Song ;
Still the prevailing Faction propt his Throne,
And to four Volumes let his Plays run on;
Then a lewd Tide of Verfe, with vicious Rage,
Broke in upon the Morals of the Age.
The Stage (whofe Art was once the Mind to move
To noble Daring, and to vertuous Love)
Precept, with Pleasure mix'd, no more profeft,
But dealt in double Meaning bawdy Jeft:
The shocking Sounds offend the blushing Fair,
And drive 'em from the guilty Theatre.
Ye wretched Bards! from whom thefe Ills have sprung,
Whom the avenging Powers have fpar'd too long,
Well may you fear the Blow will furely come,
Your Sodom has no Ten to avert its Doom;
Unlefs the fair ARDELIA will alone
To Heav'n for all the guilty Tribe atone;
Nor can Ten Saints do more than fuch a One.
Since he alone of the Poetick Crowd
To the falfe Gods of Wit has never bow'd,
The Empire, which the faves, fhall own her Sway,
And all Parnaffus her blefs'd Laws obey.
Say, from what facred Fountain, Nymph divine? The Treasures flow, which in thy Verfe do fhine? With what ftrange Inspiration art thou bleft, What more than Delphick Ardor warms thy Breaft?
Our fordid Earth ne'er bred so bright a Flame.
But from the Skies, thy Kindred Skies it came.
To Numbers great, like thine, th'Angelick Quire
In joyous Confort tune the golden Lyre;
Viewing, with pitying Eyes, our Cares with thee,
They wifely own, that All is Vanity;
Ev'n all the Joys which mortal Minds can know,
And find ARDELIA's Verfe the leaft vain Thing below.
If PINDAR's Name to those blefs'd Manfions reach, And mortal Mufes may immortal teach,
In Verfe like his, the heav'nly Nation raise
Their tuneful Voices to their Maker's Praife.
Nor fhall celeftial Harmony disdain,
For once, to imitate an earthly ftrain,
Whofe Fame fecure, no Rival e'er can fear,
But thofe above, and fair ARDELIA here.
She who undaunted could his Raptures view,
And with bold Wings his facred Heights purfue
Safe thro' the Dithyrambick Stream she fteer'd,
Nor the rough Deep in all its Dangers fear'd:
Not fo the reft, who with fuccefslefs Pain
Th' unnavigable Torrent try'd in vain.
So CLELIA leap'd into the rapid Flood,
While the Etrufcans ftruck with Wonder ftood:
Amidft the Waves her rafh Perfuers-dy'd,
The matchless Dame could only ftem the Tide,
And gain the Glory of the farther Side..
See with what Pomp the antick Mafque comes in! The various Forms of the fantastick Spleen.
Vain empty Laughter, howling Grief and Tears,
False Joy, bred by false Hope, and falfer Fears;
Each Vice, each Paffion which pale Nature wears,
In this odd monft'rous Medley mix'd appears.
Like Bays his Dance, confus'dly round they run,
Statefman, Coquet, gay Fop, and penfive Nun,
Speares and Heroes, Husbands and their Wives,
With Monkish Drones that dream away their Lives.
Long have I labour'd with the dire Disease,
Nor found, but from ARDELIA's Numbers, Ease:
The dancing Verse runs thro' my fluggish Veins,
Where dull and cold the frozen Blood remains.
Pale Cares and anxious Thoughts give Way in hafte,
And to returning Joy refign my Breaft;
Then free from ev'ry Pain I did endure,
I bless the charming Author of my Cure.
So when to SAUL the great Mufician play'd,
The fullen Fiend unwillingly obey'd,
And left the Monarch's Breaft,to feek fome fafer Shade.
HORAT. LIB. II. O D E. IV.
E fit ancillæ tibi amor pudori,
N Xanthia Phoeeu: priùs infolentem
Serya Brifeis niveo colore
Movit Achillem.
Movit Ajacem, Telamone.natum
Forma captivæ dominum Tecmeffa:
Arfit Atrides medio in triumpho
Virgina raptâ :.
Barbare poftquam cecidere turmæ
Theffalo victore, & ademptus Hector:
Tradidit feffis leviora tolli
Pergama Graiis.
HORACE Book II. Ode IV. Imitated.
The Lord G, to the Earl of S-.
O not, moft fragrant Earl, difclaim
Thy bright, thy reputable Flame,
-g- -le the Brown;
But publickly efpoufe the Dame,
Full many Heroes, fierce and keen,
With Drabs have deeply fmitten been,
Although right good Commanders
Some who with you have Hounslow seen,
And fome who've been in Flandersa 1.
The Monarch who of France is Hight,
Who rules the Roast with matchless Might,
* Seigniora Francefca Marguarretta de l'Epine, du Italian Songstress.
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