Strong Labour got up.-With his pipe in his He stoutly strode over the dale, [mouth, He lent new perfumes to the breath of the south, On his back hung his wallet and flail. Behind him came Health from her cottage of thatch, Where never physician had lifted the latch. First of the village Collin was awake, Last Honesty, full seemly drest Her morning hymn to Heav'n. All nature wakes-the birds unlock their throats, In the middle of the ring, By the rivulet on the rushes, Their scythes upon the adverse bank And court'sy to the courting breeze. Ah! Harriot sovereign mistress of my heart, On a bank of fragrant thyme, Night with all her negro train, Still holding her fingers seal'd to her lips. You could not see a sight, You could not hear a sound, And horrour deepen'd round. Beneath a myrtle's melancholy shade, And to the answ'ring wood these sounds convey'd: His speculations thus the sage begun, He starts and recollects- he was engag'd to Then up he sprang nimble and light, He laid aside virtue that night, And next morn por'd in Plato for more. ON MISS ODE XV. LONG, with undistinguish'd flame, But when you came, you stood confess'd Sole sultana of my breast; For you eclips'd, supremely fair, In this her mien, in that her grace, What can those tumid paps excel, When to sweet sounds your steps you suit, Heav'ns! how you glide!—her neck-her chestDoes she move, or does she rest? As those roguish eyes advance, Thus the bashful Pleiad cheats Like the ever-toying dove, Grant it with a begging nc, When I ask a kiss, or so→→ And let each rose that decks your face Blush assent to my embrace. ON THE FIFth of deceMBER, BEING THE BIRTH-DAY OF A BEAUTIFUL YOUNG LADY, HAIL, eldest of the monthly train, Expires the chequer'd year. Smile gladly on this blest of days. And May be crown'd with flow'rs; Eclips'd and vanquish'd, fade away: A sweeter flow'r than May. 24 hess and purity of Horace. Dryden's is certainly the more elevated performance of the two, but by no means so much so as people in general will have it. There are few that will allow any sort of comparison to be made between them. This is in some measure owing to that prevailing but absurd custom which has obtained from Horace's3 time even to this day, viz. of preferring authors to the bays by seniority. Had Mr. Pope written first, the mob, that judge by this rule, would have given him the preference; and the rather, because in this piece he does not deserve it. It would not be right to conclude, without taking notice of a fine subject for an ode on St. Cecilia's Day, which was suggested to the author by his friend the learned and ingenious Mr. Comber, late of Jesus College in this university; that is David's playing to king Saul when he was troubled with the evil spirit. He was much pleased with the hint at first, but at length was the subject, and he thinks not without reason. The chusing too high subjects has been the ruin of many a tolerable genius. There is a good rule which Fresnoy prescribes to the painters; which is likewise applicable to the poets. fter Mr. Dryden and Mr. Pope, would be great presumption, which is the reason he detains the leader in this place to make an apology, much against his will, he having all due contempt for the impertinence of prefaces. In the first place then, it will be a little hard (he thinks) if he should be particularly mark'd out for censure, many others having written on the same subject without any such imputations; but they, (it may be) did not live long enough to be laughed at, or, by some lucky means or other, escaped those shrewd remarks, which, it seems, are reserved for him. In the second place, this subject was not his choice, but imposed upon him by a gentleman very eminent in the science of music, for whom he has a great friendship, and who is, by his good sense and humanity, as much elevated above the generality of mankind, as by his exquisite art he is above most of his profession. The request of a friend, undoubtedly, will be sneered at by some as a stale and antiquated apo-deterred from improving it by the greatness of logy it is a very good one notwithstanding, which, is manifest even from it's triteness; for it can never be imagined, that so many excellent authors, as well as bad ones, would have made use of it, had they not been convinced of As for the writer of this piece, he it's cogency. will rejoice in being derided, not only for obliging his friends, but any honest man whatsoever, so far as may be in the power of a person of his He does not pretend to equal mean abilities. the very worst parts of the two celebrated performances already extant on the subject; which acknowledgment alone will, with the good-natured and judicious, acquit him of presumption; because these pieces, however excellent upon the whole, are not without their blemishes. There is in them both an exact unity of design, which though in compositions of another nature a beauty, is an impropriety in the Pindaric, which should consist in the vehemence of sudden and unlook'd for transitions: hence chiefly it derives that enthusiastic fire and wildness, which, greatly distinguish it from other species of poesy. In the first stanza of Dryden' and in the fifth of Pope2, there is an air, which is so far from being adapted to the majesty of an ode, that it would make no considerable figure in a ballad. And lastly, they both conclude with a turn which has something too epigrammatical in it. Bating these trifles, they are incomparably beautiful and great; neither is there to be found two more finish'd pieces of lyric poetry in our language, L'Allegro and Il Penseroso of Milton excepted, which are the finest in any. Dryden's is the more sublime and magnificent; but Pope's is the more elegant and correct; Dryden has the fire and spirit of Pindar, and Pope has the terse 'Happy, happy, happy pair, None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserve the fair. 2 Thus song cou'd prevail A conquest how hard and how glorious! Supremam in tabulis lucem captare dici tum actam Post byemen nimbis transfuso sole caducam; Seu nebulis sultam accipient, tonitruque rubentem. THE ARGUMENT. Stanza I, II. Invocation of men and angels to join in the praise of S. Cecilia. The divine origin of music. Stanza III. Art of music, or it's miraculous power over the brute and inanimate creation exemplified in Waller, and Stanza IV, V, in Arion. Stanza VI. the nature of music, or it's power over the passions. Instances of this in it's exciting pity. Stanza VII. In promoting courage and military virStanza VIII. Excellency of church music. Air to the memory of Mr. Purcell.Praise of the crgan and it's inventress Saint Cecilia. tue. I. FROM your lyre-enchanted tow'rs, Hither Paradise remove Spirits of Harmony and Love! Thou too, divine Urania, deign t' appear, To the grand argument the numbers suit ; Mix on your ambrosial tongue Disdainful, &c. &c. II. And you, ye sons of Harmony below, How little less than angels, when ye sing! With emulation's kindling warmth shall glow, And from your mellow-modulating throats The tribute of your grateful notes In union of piety shall bring. Shall Echo from her vocal cave Repay each note, the shepherd gave, And shall not we our mistress praise And give her back the borrow'd lays? But farther still our praises we pursue; For ev'n Cecilia, mighty maid, Let the winged numbers climb: CHORUS. Higher swell the sound, &c. &c. Music's a celestial art; Cease to wonder at it's pow'r, Tho' lifeless rocks to motion start, Tho' trees dance lightly from the bow'r, In Penhurst's plains when Waller, sick with love, He lays his careless limbs without reserve, nerve Of his resounding shell. In all the woods, in all the plains And weave their way thro' labyrinths green; And answers from the neighbouring bay. In uncomplaining anguish pines: Neptune in the boisterous seas Spreads the placid bed of peace, While each blast, Or breathes it's last, Or just does sigh a symphony and cease. CHORUS. Neptune, &c. &c. IV. Behold Arion-on the stern he stands Pall'd in theatrical attire, To the mute strings he moves th' enliv'ning hands, He thus accosts the mistress of the main: Where love, and joy, and Neptune dwell And hesitates into a gem; By thy kindred wat'ry gods, Great Amphitrite (for thou can'st bind Hence waft me, fair goddess, oh, waft me away, vi. But o'er th' affections too she claims the sway, From her cheeks the roses die, The radiations vanish from her Sun-bright eye, But let the skilful bard appear, And pour the sounds medicinal in her ear; Notes that mean a world of woe;" She too shall sympathize, she too shall moan, But hark the temple's hollow'd roof resounds, He pours his strains along, He trills the weak enervate strains, And dwell delighted on her name. Blow on, ye sacred organs, blow, Angels may listen to thy lute; Thy pow'r shall last, thy bays shall bloom, GRAND CHORUS. When Death shall blot out every name, &c. HYMN TO THE SUPREME BEING, ON RECOVERY FROM A DANGEROUS FIT OF ILLNESS. TO DOCTOR JAMES. DEAR SIR, HAVING made an humble offering to him, without whose blessing your skill, admirable as it is, would have been to no purpose, I think myself bound by all the ties of gratitude, to render my next acknowledgments to you, who, under God, restored me to health from as violent and dan gerous a disorder, as perhaps ever man survived, just tribute, since this was the third time, that And my thanks become more particularly your your judgment and medicines rescued me from the grave, permit me to say, in a manner almost miraculous. If it be meritorious to have investigated medicines for the cure of distempers, either overlooked or disregarded by all your predecessors, millions yet unborn will celebrate the man, who wrote the Medicinal Dictionary, and invented the Fever Powder. Let such considerations as these, arm you with constancy against the impotent attacks of those whose interest interferes with that of mankind; and let it not displease you to have those for your particular enemies, who are foes to the public in general. It is no wonder, indeed, that some of the retailers of medicines should zealously oppose whatever might endanger their trade; but 'tis amazing that there should be any physicians mercenary and mean enough to pay their court to, and ingratiate themselves with, such persons, by the strongest efforts to prejudice the inventor of the Fever Powder at the expense of honour, dignity, and conscience. Believe me however, and let this be a part of your consolation, that there are very few physicians in Britain, who were born gentlemen, and whose fortunes place them above such sordid dependen |