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'Twas what I said to Craggs and Child,
Who prais'd my modesty and smil'd.
Give me, I cry'd, (enough for me)
My bread and independency!
So bought an annual rent or two,
And liv'd---just as you see I do;
Near fifty, and without a wife,
I trust that sinking fund my life.
Can I retrench? Yes, mighty well,
Shrink back to my paternal cell;
A little house with trees a-row,
And, like its master, very low;
There dy'd my father, no man's debtor,
And there I'll die, nor worse nor better.
To set this matter full before ye,
Our old friend Swift will tell his story.

66

Harley, the nation's great support"

But you may read it, I stop short.

Sæpe verecundum laudasti: Rexque, Paterque
Audisti coram, nec verbo parcius absens.
Inspice si possum donata reponere lætus.

*

*

Parvum parva decent. mihi jam non regia Roma,
Sed vacuum Tibur placet, aut imbelle Tarentum.
Strenuus et fortis, causis que Philippus agendis
Clarus, &c.

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HORACE, BOOK II. EPIST. I.

IMITATED.

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THE reflections of Horace, and the judgments passed in his Epistle to Augustus, seemed so seasonable to the present times, that I could not help applying them to the use of my own country. The author thought them considerable enough to address them. to his prince, whom he paints with all the great and good qualities of a monarch upon whom the Romans depended for the increase of an absolute empire; but to make the Poem entirely English, I was willing to add one or two of those which contribute to the happiness of a free people, and are more consistent with the welfare of our neighbours.

This Epistle will shew the learned world to have fallen into two mistakes: one, that Augustus was a patron of poets in general; whereas he not only prohibited all but the best writers to name him, but recommended that care even to the civil magistrate; Admonebat prætores, ne paterentur nomen suum obsolefieri, &c.; the other, that this Piece was only a general discourse of poetry; whereas it was an apology for the poets, in order to render Augustus more their patron. Horace here pleads the cause of his contemporaries; first, against the taste of the Town,

whose humour it was to magnify the authors of the preceding age; secondly, against the court and nobility, who encouraged only the writers for the theatre; and, lastly, against the Emperor himself, who had conceived them of little use to the government. He shews (by a view of the progress of learning, and the change of taste, among the Romans) that the introduction of the polite arts of Greece had given the writers of his time great advantages over their predecessors; that their morals were much improved, and the licence of those ancient poets restrained; that Satire and Comedy were become more just and useful; that whatever extravagancies were left on the stage, were owing to the ill taste of the nobility; that poets, under due regulations, were in many respects useful to the state; and concludes, that it was upon them the Emperor himself must depend for his fame with posterity.

We may further learn from this Epistle, that Horace

made his court to this great prince, by writing with a decent freedom towards him, with a just contempt of his low flatterers, and with a manly regard to his own character. P.

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IMITATED.

TO AUGUSTUS.

WHILE you, great Patron of mankind! I sustain
The balanc'd world, and open all the main,
Your country, chief in arms, abroad defend,
At home with morals, arts, and laws amend;

2 How shall the Muse, from such a monarch, steal 5
An hour, and not defraud the public weal?

3

Edward and Henry, now the boast of fame,
And virtuous Alfred, a more 4 sacred name,
After a life of gen'rous toils endur'd,
The Gaul subdu'd, or property secur'd,
Ambition humbled, mighty cities storm'd,
Or laws establish'd and the world reform'd;

HOR. LIB. II. EPIST. I.

AD AUGUSTUM.

CUM tot sustineas et tanta negotia, solus,
Res Italas armis tuteris, moribus ornes,
Legibus emendes; in 2 publica commoda peccem,
Si longo sermone morer tua tempora, Cæsar.

3 Romulus, et Liber pater, et cum Castore Pollux,
Post ingentia facta, 4 Deorum in templa recepti,
Dum terras hominumque colunt genus, aspera bella
Componunt, agros assignant, oppida condunt,

10

Clos'd their long glories with a sigh, to find
Th' unwilling gratitude of base mankind!
All human virtue, to its latest breath,
2 Finds Envy never conquer'd but by Death.
The great Alcides, ev'ry labour past,
Had still this monster to subdue at last :
3 Sure fate of all, beneath whose rising ray
Each star of meaner merit fades away!
Oppress'd we feel the beam directly beat;
Those suns of glory please not till they set.

To thee the world its present homage pays,
The harvest early, 4 but mature the praise:
Great friend of liberty! in kings a name
Above all Greek, above all Roman, fame *;
Whose word is truth, as sacred and rever'd
As Heav'n's own oracles from altars heard.
Wonder of kings! like whom, to mortal eyes,
6 None e'er has risen, and none e'er shall rise.

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1 Ploravere suis non respondere favorem
Speratum meritis, díram qui contudit hydram,
Notaque fatali portenta labore subegit,
Comperit 2 invidiam supremo fine domari.
3 Urit enim fulgore suo, qui prægravat artes
Infra se positas: extinctus amabitur idem.
4 Presenti tibi maturos largimur honores,
s Jurandasque tuum per nomen ponimus aras,
6 Nil oriturum alias, nil ortum tale fatentes.
Sed tuus hoc populus, sapiens et justus in uno,
* Te nostris ducibus, te Graiis anteferendo,

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