Ah me! how much I fear left pride it be! But if that pride it be, which thus infpires, Beware ye dames, with nice difcernment fee Ye quench not too the fparks of nobler fires: Ah! better far than all the mufes' lyres, All coward arts, is valour's gen'rous heat; The firm fixt breaft which fit and right requires, Like Vernon's patriot foul, more justly great Than craft that pimps for ill, or flow'ry falfe deceit.
Yet nurs'd with kill, what dazling fruits appear!
Ev'n now fagacious forefight points to show
A little bench of heedlefs bishops here,
And there a chancellor in embryo,
Or bard fublime, if bard may e'er be so,
As Milton, Shakespear, names that ne'er fhall die! Tho' now he crawl along the ground so low, Nor weeting how the mufe fhou'd foar on high, Wifheth, poor ftarv'ling elf! his paper-kite inay fly.
And this, perhaps, who, cens'ring the defign, Low lays the house which that of cards doth build, Shall Dennis be! if rigid fates incline, And many an epic to his rage fhall yield; And many a poet quit th' Aonian field; And, four'd by age, profound he shall appear, As he who now with 'fdainful fury thrill'd Surveys mine work; and levels many a fneer, And furls his wrinkly front, and cries, "What fluff
But now Dan Phoebus gains the middle skie, And liberty unbars her prison-door, And, like a rushing torrent, out they fly; And now the graffy cirque han cover'd o'er With boist'rous revel-rout and wild uproar ; A thousand ways in wanton rings they run, Heav'n fhield their fhort-liv'd paftimes, I implore! For well may freedom, erft fo dearly won, Appear to British elf more gladfome than the fun.
Enjoy, poor imps! enjoy your sportive trade
And chase gay flies, and cull the fairest flow'rs,
For, when my bones in grafs-green fods are laid;
For never may ye tafte more careless hours
In nightly caftles, or in lad.es bow'rs.
O vain to feek delight in earthly thing!
But moft in courts, where proud ambition tow'rs! Deluded wight! who weens fair peace can spring Beneath the pompous dome of kefar or of king.
See in each sprite fome various bent appear !
These rudely carol most incondite lay;
Those fauntering on the green, with jocund leer
Salute the stranger paffing on his way;
Some builden fragile tenements of clay;
Some to the standing lake their courses bend,
With pebbles smooth at duck and drake to play ;
Thilk to the huxter's fav'ry cottage tend,
In paftry kings and queens th' allotted mite to fpend.
Here, as each feafon yields a diff'rent store,
Each feafon's ftores in order ranged been;
Apples with cabbage-net y-cover'ď o'er,
Galling full fore th' unmoney'd wight, are seen ;
And goofe-b'rie clad in liv'ry red or green ;
And here, of lovely dye, the cath'rine pear,.
Fine pear! as lovely for thy juice, I ween:
O may no wight e'er pennylefs come there,
Left, fmit with ardent love, he pine with hopeless care!
See! cherries here, ere cherries yet abound,
With thread fo white in tempting pofies ty'd,
Scatt'ring like blooming maid their glances round,,
With pamper'd look draw little eyes afide;
And must be bought, though penury betide.
The plumb all azure, and the nut all brown,
And here, each feafon, do those cakes abide,
Whofe honour'd names th' inventive city own,
Rend'ring thro' Britain's ifle Salopia's praises known..
Admir'd Salopia! that, with venial pride,
Eyes her bright form in Severn's ambiant wave,
Fam'd for her loyal cares in perils try'd,.
Her daughters lovely, and her striplings brave:
Ah! midft the reft, may flow'rs adorn his grave,.
Whose art did first thefe dulcet cates display!
A motive fair to learning's imps he gave,
Who chearless o'er her darkling region ftray;
"Till reafon's morn arife and light them on their way.
COOPER's.
This poem, by Denham, though it may have been exceeded by later attempts in defcription, yet deferves the higheft applaufe, as it far furpafles all that went before it: the concluding part, though a little too much crowded, is very mafterly.
URE there are poets which did never dream
Upon Parnaffus, nor did tafte the stream
Of Helicon; we, therefore, may fuppofe
Those made not poets, but the poets those.
And, as courts make not kings, but kings the court,
So, where the muses and their train refort,
Parnaffus ftands; if I can be to thee
A poet, thou Parnaffus art to me.
Nor wonder, if (advantag'd in my flight,
By taking wing from thy aufpicious height)
Through untrac'd ways and airy paths I fly,
More boundless in my fancy than my eye;
My eye, which, fwift as thought, contracts the space
That lies between, and first falutes the place
Crown'd with that facred pile, fo vast, so high,
That, whether 'tis a part of earth, or sky,
Uncertain feems, and may be thought a proud
Afpiring mountain, or defcending cloud;
Paul's, the late theme of fuch a* mufe, whose flight
Has bravely reach'd and foar'd above thy height :
Now fhalt thou ftand, tho' fword, or time, or fire,
Or zeal, more fierce than they, thy fall confpire;
Secure, whilft thee the beft of poets fings,
Preferv'd from ruin by the best of kings.
Under his proud furvey the city lies,
And, like a mist, beneath a hill doth rise ;
Whose state and wealth, the business and the crowd,
Seems, at this distance, but a darker cloud :
And is, to him who rightly things esteems,
No other in effect than what it seems;
Where, with like hafte, tho' fev'ral ways they run,
Some to undo, and fome to be undone;
While luxury and wealth, like war and peace,
Are each the other's ruin, and increase ;
As rivers loft in feas, fome fecret vein
Thence reconveys, there to be loft again.
Oh happiness of sweet retir'd content!
To be at once fecure, and innocent.
Windfor the next (where Mars with Venus dwells,
Beauty with ftrength) above the valley fwells
Into my eye, and doth itself prefent
With fuch an easy and unforc'd ascent,
That no ftupendious precipice denies
Accefs, no horror turns away our eyes;
But fuch a rife, as doth at once invite
A pleafure, and a rev'rence from the fight.
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