Where difcipline helps op'ning buds of sense,
And makes his pupils proud with filver-pence,
I was a poet too-but modern tafte
Is fo refin'd and delicate and chaste,
That verfe, whatever fire the fancy warms,
Without a creamy fmoothnefs has no charms.
Thus, all fuccefs depending on an ear,
And thinking I might purchase it too dear,
If fentiment were facrific'd to found,
And truth cut fhort to make a period round,
I judg'd a man of fenfe could fcarce do worse,
Than caper in the morris-dance of verse.
B. Thus reputation is a fpur to wit,
And some wits flag through fear of lofing it.
Give me the line, that plows its stately course
Like a proud fwan, conq'ring the ftream by force.
That like fome cottage beauty ftrikes the heart,
Quite unindebted to the tricks of art.
When labour and when dullnefs, club in hand,
Like the two figures at St. Dunstan's stand,
Beating alternately, in meafur'd time,
The clock-work tintinabulum of rhime,
Exact and regular the founds will be,
But fuch mere quarter-ftrokes are not for me.
From him who rears a poem lank and long,
To him who strains his all into a fong,
Perhaps fome bonny Caledonian air,
All birks and braes, though he was never there;
Or having whelp'd a prologue with great pains,
Feels himself spent, and fumbles for his brains;
A prologue interdafh'd with many a stroke,
An art contriv'd to advertise a joke,
So that the jeft is clearly to be feen,
Not in the words-but in the gap
Manner is all in all, whate'er is writ,
The fubftitute for genius, fenfe and wit..
To dally much with subjects mean and low,
Proves that the mind is weak, or makes it fo.
Neglected talents ruft into decay,
And ev'ry effort ends in push-pin play.
The man that means fuccefs, fhould foar above
A foldier's feather, or a lady's glove,.
Elfe, fummoning the mufe to fuch a theme,
The fruit of all her labour is whipt-cream.
As if an eagle flew aloft, and then-
Stoop'd from its highest pitch to pounce a wren.
As if the poet purposing to wed,
Should carve himself a wife in gingerbread.
Ages elaps'd ere Homer's lamp appear'd,
And ages ere the Mantuan fwan was heard:
To carry nature lengths unknown before,
To give a Milton birth, afk'd ages more.
Thus genius rose and set at order'd times,
And shot a day-fpring into diftant climes,
Ennobling ev'ry region that he chose;
He funk in Greece, in Italy he rose,
And tedious years of Gothic darkness pass'd,
Emerg'd all fplendor in our ifle at last.
Thus lovely Halcyons dive into the main,
Then fhow far off their fhining plumes again.
A. Is genius only found in epic lays?
Prove this, and forfeit all pretence to praife.
Make their heroic pow'rs your own at once,
Or candidly confefs yourself a dunce.
B. These were the chief, each interval of night
Was grac'd with many an undulating light;
In lefs illuftrious bards his beauty fhone
A meteor or a star, in these, the fun.
The nightingale may claim the topmost bough,
While the poor grafshopper muft chirp below.
Like him unnotic'd, I, and fuch as I,
Spread little wings, and rather skip than fly,
Perch'd on the meagre produce of the land,
An ell or two of profpect we command,
But never peep beyond the thorny bound
Or oaken fence that hems the paddoc round.
In Eden ere yet innocence of heart
Had faded, poetry was not an art;
Language above all teaching, or if taught,
Only by gratitude and glowing thought;
Elegant as fimplicity, and warm
As exftafy, unmanacl'd by form,
Not prompted as in our degen'rate days,
By low ambition and the thirst of praise,
Was natural as is the flowing ftream,
And yet magnificent, a God the theme.
That theme on earth exhausted, though above
Tis found as everlasting as his love,
Man lavish'd all his thoughts on human things,
The feats of heroes and the wrath of kings,
But ftill while virtue kindled his delight,
The fong was moral, and so far was right.
'Twas thus till luxury feduc'd the mind,
To joys lefs innocent, as lefs refin'd;
Then genius danc'd a bacchanal, he crown'd
The brimming goblet, feiz'd the thyrfus, bound
His brows with ivy, rufh'd into the field
Of wild imagination, and there reel'd,
The victim of his own lafcivious fires,
And dizzy with delight, profan'd the facred wires.
|