Hard was the lot those injur'd ftrains endur'd,
Unown'd by Science, and by years obfcur❜d:
Fair Fancy wept; and echoing fighs confefs'd
A fixt despair in every tuneful breast.
Not with more grief th' afflicted fwains appear,
When wintry winds deform the plenteous year;
When ling'ring frofts the ruin'd feats invade
Where Peace reforted, and the Graces play'd.
Each rifing art by juft gradation moves,
Toil builds on toil, and age on age improves :
The Muse alone unequal dealt her rage,
And grac'd with nobleft pomp her earliest stage.
Preferv'd through time, the speaking scenes impart
Each changeful wifh of Phædra's tortur'd heart:
Or paint the curfe that mark'd the "Theban's reign,
A bed incestuous, and a father flain.
With kind concern our pitying eyes o'erflow,
Trace the fad tale, and own another's woe.
To Rome remov'd, with wit fecure to please,
The Comic fifters kept their native ease.
With jealous fear declining Greece beheld
Her own Menander's art almoft excell'd!
But every Mufe effay'd to raise in vain
Some labour'd rival of her Tragic ftrain;
The dipus of Sophocles.
Ilyffus' laurels though transferr'd with toil,
Droop'd their fair leaves, nor knew th' unfriendly foil. As arts expir'd, resistless Dulness rose;
Goths, priests, or Vandals, all were Learning's foes.
'Till Julius firft recall'd each exil❜d maid,
And Cofmo own'd them in th' Etrurian fhade:
Then deeply skill'd in love's engaging theme,
The foft Provencial pass'd to Arno's stream:
With graceful ease the wanton lyre he ftrung,
Sweet flow'd the lays but love was all he fung.
The gay description could not fail to move;
For, led by nature, all are friends to love.
But heav'n, ftill various in its works, decreed
The perfect boast of time should last fucceed.
The beauteous union must appear at length,
Of Tuscan fancy, and Athenian strength:
One greater Muse Eliza's reign adorn,
And ev❜n a Shakespear to her fame be born!
Yet ah! fo bright her morning's opening ray,
In vain our Britain hop'd an equal day!
No fecond growth the western ifle could bear,
At once exhausted with too rich a year.
Too nicely Johnson knew the critic's part;
Nature in him was almoft loft, in art.
Of fofter mold the gentle Fletcher came,
The next in order, as the next in name.
With pleas'd attention 'midst his scenes we find
Each glowing thought, that warms the female mind;
Each melting figh, and every tender tear,
The lover's wishes and the virgin's fear.
His every strain the Smiles and Graces own;
But stronger Shakespear felt for Man alone:
Drawn by his pen, our ruder passions stand
Th' unrival'd picture of his early hand.
* With gradual steps, and flow, exacter France
Saw Art's fair empire o'er her fhores advance:
By length of toil a bright perfection knew,
Correctly bold, and juft in all fhe drew.
'Till late Corneille, with Lucan's fpirit fir'd,
Breath'd the free ftrain, as Rome and He infpir'd:
And claffic judgment gain'd to sweet Racine
The temp❜rate ftrength of Maro's chafter line.
f Their characters are thus diftinguished by Dryden.
About the time of Shakespear, the poet Hardy was in great repute in France He wrote, according to Fontenelle, fix hundred plays. The French poets after him applied themselves in general to the correct improvement of the ftage, which was almoft totally difregarded by thofe of our own country, Johnson excepted.
The favourite author of the elder Corneille.
But wilder far the British laurel spread,
And wreaths lefs artful crown our poet's head.
Yet He alone to every fcene could give
Th' hiftorian's truth, and bid the manners live.
Wak'd at his call I view, with glad furprize,
Majestic forms of mighty monarchs rise.
There Henry's trumpets spread their loud alarms,
And laurel'd Conqueft waits her hero's arms.
Here gentler Edward claims a pitying figh,
Scarce born to honours, and fo foon to die!
Yet fhall thy throne, unhappy infant, bring
No beam of comfort to the guilty king:
The time fhall come, when Glo'fter's heart shall bleed In life's laft hours, with horror of the deed:
When dreary visions shall at last present
Thy vengeful image in the midnight tent,
Thy hand unseen the secret death shall bear,
Blunt the weak fword, and break th' oppreffive fpear. Where-e'er we turn, by Fancy charm'd, we find
Some fweet illufion of the cheated mind.
Oft, wild of wing, fhe calls the foul to rove
With humbler nature, in the rural grove;
iTempus erit Turno, magno cum optaverit emptum
Intactum Pallanta, &c.
Where fwains contented own the quiet fcene,
And twilight fairies tread the circled green:
Dress'd by her hand the Woods and Vallies smile,
And Spring diffufive decks th' inchanted ifle.
O more than all in pow'rful genius bleft,
Come, také thine empire o'er the willing breast!
Whate'er the wounds this youthful heart fhall feel,
Thy songs support me, and thy morals heal!
There every thought the poet's warmth may raise,
There native music dwells in all the lays.
O might some verse with happiest skill perfuade
Expreffive Picture to adopt thine aid!
What wond'rous draughts might rife from ev'ry page!
What other Raphaels charm a diftant age !
Methinks ev'n now I view fome free defign,
Where breathing Nature lives in every line :
Chafte and fubdu'd the modeft lights decay,
Steal into shades, and mildly melt away.
-And fee, where Anthony in tears approv'd,
Guards the pale relics of the chief he lov'd:
O'er the cold corfe the warrior feems to bend,
Deep funk in grief, and mourns his murder'd friend!
Still as they prefs, he calls on all around,
Lifts the torn robe, and points the bleeding wound.
* See the tragedy of Julius Cæfar.
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