O let me safely to the fair return, Say, with a kiss, she must not, shall not mourn! He said, and called on Heav'n to bless the day 85 1738 or 1739. FROM 1742. AN EPISTLE ADDRESSED TO SIR THOMAS HANMER ON HIS EDITION OF SHAKESPEAR'S WORKS Each rising art by just gradation moves, Toil builds on toil, and age on age improves; The Muse alone unequal dealt her rage, And graced with noblest pomp her earliest stage. To Rome removed, with wit secure to please, 5 ΙΟ 15 20 And Cosmo owned them in th' Etrurian shade. The soft Provençal passed to Arno's stream; 25 Sweet flowed the lays-but love was all he sung; The gay description could not fail to move, For, led by nature, all are friends to love. But Heav'n, still various in its works, decreed 30 Yet, ah, so bright her morning's op'ning ray, 35 In vain our Britain hoped an equal day: 40 Of softer mould the gentle Fletcher came, The next in order as the next in name: With pleased attention, 'midst his scenes we find Each glowing thought that warms the female mind; 45 50 With gradual steps and slow, exacter France 55 Breathed the free strain, as Rome and he inspired; But wilder far the British laurel spread, And wreaths less artful crown our poet's head. Yet he alone to ev'ry scene could give 60 Th' historian's truth, and bid the manners live. 1743. 1743. A SONG FROM SHAKESPEAR'S "CYMBELINE” To fair Fidele's grassy tomb Soft maids and village hinds shall bring Each op'ning sweet of earliest bloom, And rifle all the breathing spring. No wailing ghost shall dare appear, To vex with shrieks this quiet grove; But shepherd lads assemble here, And melting virgins own their love. No withered witch shall here be seen, The redbreast oft, at ev'ning hours, Shall kindly lend his little aid, With hoary moss and gathered flow'rs, To deck the ground where thou art laid. When howling winds and beating rain Or 'midst the chase, on ev'ry plain, The tender thought on thee shall dwell. Each lonely scene shall thee restore; 1744. 5 ODE TO FEAR STROPHE Thou to whom the world unknown, Ah Fear! ah frantic Fear! I see, I see thee near! I know thy hurried step, thy haggard eye! Who stalks his round, an hideous form, 151 20 25 EPODE In earliest Greece to thee, with partial choice, Silent and pale, in wild amazement hung. Yet he, the bard who first invoked thy name, For not alone he nursed the poet's flame, But reached from Virtue's hand the patriot's steel. But who is he whom later garlands grace, 30 Who left a while o'er Hybla's dews to rove, 35 With trembling eyes thy dreary steps to trace, Wrapt in thy cloudy veil, th' incestuous queen Sighed the sad call her son and husband heard, When once alone it broke the silent scene, 40 And he, the wretch of Thebes, no more appeared. O Fear, I know thee by my throbbing heart; Vet all the thunders of the scene are thine! 45 ANTISTROPHE Thou who such weary lengths hast passed, Or in some hollowed seat, 50 'Gainst which the big waves beat, Hear drowning seamen's cries, in tempests brought? Dark pow'r, with shudd'ring, meek, submitted thought Which thy awak'ning bards have told, O thou whose spirit most possest Teach me but once like him to feel, 55 60 65 70 1746. ODE TO SIMPLICITY O thou by Nature taught To breathe her genuine thought, In numbers warmly pure and sweetly strong; Who first, on mountains wild, In Fancy, loveliest child, Thy babe or Pleasure's, nursed the pow'rs of song! Thou who with hermit heart Disdain'st the wealth of art, And gauds, and pageant weeds, and trailing pall; 5 |