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Did'ft wake the hollow-whifp'ring breeze
With care-confumed Eloife:

O thou, with whom in cheerless cell,
The midnight clock pale pris'ners tell;
O hafte thee, mild Miltonic maid,
From yonder yews fequefter'd shade;
More bright than all the fabled nine,
Teach me to breathe the folemn line:
O bid my well-rang'd numbers rife,
Pervious to none but Attic eyes;
O give the strain that madness moves,
Till every starting sense approves.
What felt the Gallic Traveller,
When far in Arab-defert drear,
He found within the Catacomb,
Alive, the terrors of a tomb?
While many a mummy thro' the shade,
In hieroglyphic ftole array'd,

Seem'd to uprear the mystic head,

And trace the gloom with ghoftly tread;
Thou heard'ft him the ftifled groan,


Horror! his foul was all thy own!"

The author was himself a descriptive poet of the first class. Mr. William Collins thought himself aimed at by this piece of ridicule. His odes had been just published; and the laft lines seemed to refer to a particular passage in them. WARTON.

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The author was Thomas Warton; and it is a curious fact, that it was ridicule which at firft led him to the very studies, in which he afterwards fo eminently shone. He began by ridiculing Hearne*, and afterwards became an antiquarian of the most accurate, as well as elegant character; and from laughing at Collins, he wrote odes of the fame defcription. The humour of this ode (which I had doubts whether I should preserve) is not half so obvious as the humour of Pope's ballad. It might pass for a ferious Deferiptive Ode of the eighteenth century, with a certain clafs of poetical readers.

The famous antiquarian


I KNOW the thing that's most uncommon ;

(Envy be filent, and attend!)

I know a reasonable Woman,

Handsome and witty, yet a Friend.

Not warp'd by Paffion, aw'd by Rumour,
Not grave through Pride, or gay through Folly,
An equal Mixture of good Humour,

And fenfible foft Melancholy.

"Has she no faults then, (Envy says,) Sir?”
Yes, fhe has one, I must aver;

When all the World confpires to praise her,
The Woman's deaf, and does not hear.


LADY AT COURT.] HENRIETTA, fifter of John, the first Earl of Buckinghamshire, was eldeft daughter of Sir Henry Hobart, of Blickling in Norfolk, and efpoufed Charles Howard, younger fon of Henry, fifth Earl of Suffolk, whom she accompanied to Hanover, before the death of Queen Ann. She came to England with Caroline, then Electoral Princess, and became her bed-chamber woman. Mr. Coxe remarks, that "if we were to draw an eftimate of the understanding and character of Mrs. Howard, from the reprefentations of Pope, Swift, and Gay, during the time of her favour, we might fuppofe fhe poffeffed every accomplishment and good quality," &c.

"The real truth is,” he adds, “that she was more remarkable for beauty than for understanding, and the paffion which the King en


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tertained for her was rather derived from chance," &c. "He was first enamoured of another Lady, who was more cruel to the Royal Lover than Mrs. Howard. This Lady was the beautiful and lively Mary Bellenden," &c. "The Prince having communicated his paffion for Mifs Bellenden to Mrs. Howard, and being rejected, became enamoured of his confidante."

Coxe's Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 14.

VER. 1. I know the thing] Equal in elegance to any compli ment that Waller has paid to Sacchariffa, especially the last stanza, and the answer to Envy. The Lady addreft was Mrs. Howard, of Marble-hill, bed-chamber woman to Queen Caroline, and afterwards Countefs of Suffolk. WARTON.




HOU who fhalt ftop, where Thames' translucent THOU


Shines a broad Mirror through the fhadowy Cave;
Where ling'ring drops from min❜ral Roofs distil,
And pointed Crystals break the sparkling Rill,
Unpolish'd Gems no ray on Pride bestow,
And latent Metals innocently glow:

Approach. Great NATURE ftudiously behold!
And eye the Mine without a wifh for Gold.




After VER. 6. in the MS.

You fee that Island's wealth, where, only free,
Earth to her entrails feels not Tyranny.

i. e. Britain is the only place in the globe which feels not tyranny very entrails. WARBURTON.

even to its


On his Grotto] The improving and finishing his Grot was the favourite amusement of his declining years; and the beauty of his poetic genius, in the difpofition and ornaments of this romantic recefs, appears to as much advantage as in his best contrived Poems. WARBURTON.

There is much truth in Warburton's obfervation, although it may not convey the sense he intended. Pope's Garden certainly refembled his polished and embellished strain, but of neither are romantic" beauty or great nature" the characteristics.

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Approach: But awful! Lo! the Aegerian Grot, 9 Where, nobly-penfive, ST. JOHN fate and thought; Where


VER. 11. Where British fighs from dying Wyndham ftole,] In his MS. it was thus:

To Wyndham's breaft the patriot paffions ftole,

which made the whole allude to a certain Anecdote of not much confequence to any but the parties concerned.

VER. 8. eye the Mine]


"Aurum irrepertum, et fic melius fitum

Cum terra celet."


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VER. 9. Aegerian Grot,] Thefe are two charming lines; but are blemished by two bad rhymes, Grot to Thought; scarce excufable in fo fhort a poem, in which every fyllable ought to be


It is remarkable that Juvenal having mentioned this celebrated cave, takes occafion to inveigh against artificial grotto-work, and adulterating the fimple beauties of nature, in lines uncommonly poetical:

"In vallem Egeria defcendimus, et Speluncas

Diffimiles veris; quanto præftantius effet

Numen aquæ, viridi fi margine clauderit undas
Herba, nec ingenuum violarent marmora tophum.”

Sat. iii. v. 17.

Milton, in an exquifite Latin poem, addreffed to SalGillus, vol. ii. P. 532. has beautifully feigned that Numa is ftill living in this dark grove and grotto, in the perpetual enjoyment of his Ægeria.


VER. 10. Where, nobly penfive, Sr. JoHN] Lord Bolingbroke's account of the converfations, and manner of Pope's friends paffing their time, in his Garden, is not uninteresting:

"All I dare promise you is, that my thoughts, in what order foever they flow, fhall be communicated to you, just as they pass through my mind, juft as they used to be when we conversed together on thefe or any other fubject, when we fauntered alone, or, as we have often done, with good Arbuthnot, and the jocofe Dean of St. Patrick, among the multiplied fcenes of your little Garden."

Letter to Sir William Wyndham..

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