Then sportive HORACE* caught the gen'rous fire ; 375 For SATIRE's bow refign'd the founding lyre: Politely fly, cajol'd the foes of fense: 380 He feem'd to fport and trifle with the dart, But while he sported, drove it to the heart. In graver strains majestic PERSIUS wrote, Big with a ripe exuberance of thought: Greatly fedate, contemn'd a Tyrant's reign, 385 And lash'd Corruption with a calm disdain. More ardent eloquence, and boundless rage, Inflame bold JUVENAL's exalted page, His mighty numbers aw'd corrupted Rome, And swept audacious Greatness to its doom; 390 The headlong torrent thund'ring from on high, Rent the proud rock that lately brav'd the sky. NOTES. * Omne vafer vitium ridenti Flaccus amico Tangit, et admiffus circum præcordia ludit, Callidus excuffo populum fufpendere nafo. PERS. S.1. But lo! the fatal Victor of Mankind! Swoln Luxury!---pale Ruin ftalks behind! 401 At length, again fair Science shot her ray, 405 Dawn'd in the fkies, and spoke returning day. Now, SATIRE, triumph o'er thy flying foe, Now load thy quiver, ftring thy flacken'd bow! "Tis done!--See, great ERASMUS breaks the spell, And wounds triumphant Folly in her cell! 410 (In vain the folemn Cowl furrounds her face, Vain all her bigot cant, her four grimace) With shame compell'd her leaden throne to quit, And own the force of Reafon urg'd by Wit. 414 "Twas then plain DONNE in honeft vengeance rofe, His Wit harmonious, tho' his Rhyme was profe: He 'midst an age of Puns and Pedants wrote With genuine fenfe, and Roman strength of thought. Yet fcarce had SATIRE well relum'd her flame, (With grief the Mufe records her Country's fhame) Ere Britain faw the foul revolt commence, 420 425 And treach❜rous Wit began her war with Sense. Ill-fated DRYDEN! who unmov'd can fee 431 Th'extremes of wit and meannefs join'd in Thee! Flames that could mount, and gain their kindred fkies, Low creeping in the putrid fink of vice; 435 A Mufe whom Wisdom woo'd, but woo'd in vain, 441 More happy France: immortal BOILEAU there Supported Genius with a Sage's care: Him with her love propitious SATIRE bleft, 445 But fee at length the British Genius fimile, Each Roman's force adorns his various page, In this clear Mirror with delight we view decree, Beholds and hates her own deformity: While felf-feen Virtue in the faithful line With modeft joy furveys her form divine. 460 But oh, what thoughts, what numbers shall I find, But faintly to exprefs the Poet's mind! Who paint a God, unless the God inspire? Whom fear can fway, or guilty Greatness bribe; |