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36

Nor need those rules to give translation light:
His own example is a flame so bright;
That he who but arrives to copy well,
Unguided will advance, unknowing will excel.
Scarce his own Horace could fuch rules ordain,
Or his own Virgil fing a nobler strain.
How much in him may rifing Ireland boast,
How much in gaining him has Britain loft!
Their island in revenge has ours reclaim'd;
The more inftructed we, the more we ftill are
fham'd.

4,0

'Tis well for us his generous blood did flow, 45
Deriv'd from British channels long ago,
That here his conqu'ring ancestors were nurft;
And Ireland but tranflated England first;
By this reprifal we regain our right,
Elfe muft the two contending nations fight; 50
A nobler quarrel for his native earth,
Than what divided Greece for Homer's birth,
To what perfection will our tongue arrive,
How will invention and tranflation thrive,
When authors nobly born will bear their
part, 55
And not difdain the inglorious praise of art!
Great generals thus, defcending from com-

mand,

With their own toil provoke the foldier's hand. How will sweet Ovid's ghost be pleas'd to hear His fame augmented by an English peer;

69

VOL. II.

P

How he embellishes his Helen's loves,
Outdoes his foftness, and his sense improves?
When thefe tranflate, and teach tranflators too,
Nor. firftling kid, nor any vulgar yow,
Should at Apollo's grateful altar ftand:
Rofcommon writes: to that aufpicious hand,
Mufe, feed the bull that fpurns the yellow
fand.

65

Rofcommon, whom both court and camps commend,

True to his prince, and faithful to his friend;
Rofcommon, firft in fields of honour known,70
First in the peaceful triumphs of the gown;
Who both Minervas juftly makes his own.
Now let the few belov'd by Jove, and they
Whom infus'd Titan form'd of better clay,
On equal terms with ancient wit engage,
Nor mighty Homer fear, nor facred Virgil's

75

page:

Our English palace opens wide in flate;
And without ftooping they may pass the gate.

Ver. 67. Mufe, feed the bull]

Jam cornu petat, et pedibus qui fpargat arenam.

JOHN WARTON.

Ver. 74. Whom infus'd Titan]

E meliore lutu finxit præcordia Titan.

Juv. JOHN WARTON."

EPISTLE THE SIXTH.

TO THE

DUTCHESS OF YORK*,

ON HER

RETURN FROM SCOTLAND IN THE YEAR 1682.

WHEN factious rage to cruel exile drove
The
queen of beauty, and the court of love,
The Mufes droop'd, with their forsaken arts,
And the fad Cupids broke their useless darts:
Our fruitful plains to wilds and defarts turn'd, 5
Like Eden's face, when banish'd man it
mourn'd.

Love was no more, when loyalty was gone,
The great fupporter of his awful throne.

* On the twenty-firft of November 1673, the duke of York was married to the princefs Mary d'Efte, then about fifteen years of age, and extremely handfome. The ceremony was performed at Dover by the bishop of Oxford. It was againft the rules of policy for him at that time to wed a Roman Catholic; and the Parliament addreffed against it.

DERRICK,

11

Love could no longer after beauty stay,
But wander'd northward to the verge of day,
As if the fun and he had loft their way.
But now the illuftrious nymph, return'd again,
Brings every grace triumphant in her train.
The wond'ring Nereids, though they rais'd no
ftorm,

Foreflow'd her paffage, to behold her form: 15 Some cry'd, A Venus; fome, A Thetis paft ; But this was not fo fair, nor that so chaste. Far from her fight flew Faction, Strife, and Pride;

25

And Envy did but look on her, and dy'd.
Whate'er we fuffer'd from our fullen fate,
Her fight is purchas'd at an easy rate.
Three gloomy years against this day were fet;
But this one mighty fum has clear'd the debt :
Like Jofeph's dream, but with a better doom,
The famine paft, the plenty still to come.
For her the weeping heavens become ferene;
For her the ground is clad in cheerful green:
For her the nightingales are taught to fing,
And Nature has for her delay'd the spring.
The Mufe refumes her long-forgotten lays, 30
And Love reftor'd his ancient realm furveys,
Recals our beauties, and revives our plays;
His wafte dominions peoples once again,
And from her presence dates his fecond reign:

S

20

But awful charms on her fair forehead fit,
Difpenfing what she never will admit:
Pleafing, yet cold, like Cynthia's filver beam,
The people's wonder, and the poet's theme.
Diftemper'd Zeal, Sedition, canker'd Hate,
No more fhall vex the church, and tear the
ftate:

40

35

No more fhall Faction civil difcords move,
Or only difcords of too tender love:
Discord, like that of music's various parts;
Discord, that makes the harmony of hearts;
Difcord, that only this difpute shall bring, 45
Who beft fhall love the duke, and ferve the

king.

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