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To Mr. P O PE.

On the publishing his WORK S.

E comes, he comes! bid every Bard prepare

The fong of triumph, and attend his Car.
Great Sheffield's Muse the long proceffion heads,
And throws a luftre o'er the pomp the leads,
Firft gives the Palm fhe fir'd him to obtain,

Crowns his gay brow, and fhews him how to reign.
Thus young Alcides, by old Chiron taught,
Was form'd for all the miracles he wrought:
Thus Chiron did the youth he taught applaud,
Pleas'd to behold the earneft of a God.




But hark, what shouts, what gathering crouds rejoice
Unftain'd their praife by any venal voice,
Such as th' Ambitious vainly think their due,
When Prostitutes, or needy Flatterers fue.
And fee the Chief! before him laurels borne;
Trophies from undeferving temples torn;
Here Rage enchain'd reluctant raves, and there
Pale Envy dumb, and fick'ning with despair,
Prone to the earth fhe bends her loathing eye,
Weak to fupport the blaze of majesty.

But what are they that turn the facred page?
Three lovely Virgins, and of equal age;
Intent they read, and all enamour'd seem,
As he that met his likenefs in the ftream:
The GRACES thefe; and fee how they contend,
Who moft fhall praife, who beft fhall recommend.




The Chariot now the painful fteep afcends, The Peans ceafe; thy glorious labour ends. Here fix'd, the bright eternal Temple stands, Its profpect an unbounded view commands: Say, wondrous youth, what Column wilt thou chufe, What laurel'd Arch for thy triumphant Mufe? Though each great Ancient court thee to his fhrine, Though every Laurel through the dome be thine, (From the proud Epic, down to those that shade The gentler brow of the foft Lesbian maid) Go to the Good and Juft, an awful train, Thy foul's delight, and glory of the Fane: While through the earth thy dear remembrance flies, "Sweet to the world, and grateful to the skies."





[The verses to Mr. Pope, by the Duke of Buckingham, Dr. Parnell, Mr. Broome, Mr. Fenton, and Lord Lyttelton, are inferted among the Poems of their refpective Authors.]


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"Vous y cherchiez le vrai, vous y goutiez le beau ; "Quelques traits échappés d'une utile morale, "Dans leurs piquans écrits brillent par intervale. "Mais Pope approfondit ce q'ils ont effleuré ; "D'un efprit plus hardi, d'un pas plus affuré, "Il porta le flambeau dans l'abîme de l'Etre, "Et l'homme avec lui feul apprit à fe connoitre. "L'art quelquefois frivole et quelquefois divin,

"L'art des vers eft dans POPE UTILE AU GENRE


VOLTAIRE, au Roi de Pruffe.

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