And fits in measures fuch as Virgil's Mufe
To place thee near him might be fond to chufe.
How might he tune th' alternate reed with thee,
Perhaps a Strephon thou, a Daphnis he;
While fome old Damon, o'er the vulgar wife,
Thinks he deferves, and thou deferv't the Prize?
Rapt with the thought, my fancy feeks the plains,
And turns me fhepherd while I hear the trains.
Indulgent nurse of ev'ry tender gale,
Parent of flowrets, old Arcadia, hail!

35

40

Here in the cool my limbs at eafe I fpread,
Here let thy poplars whisper o'er my head:

Still flide thy waters, foft among the trees,
Thy afpins quiver in a breathing breeze!
Smile, all ye valleys, in eternal spring,

Be hufh'd, ye winds, while Pope and Virgil fing.

45

In English lays, and all sublimely great, Thy Homes warms with all his ancient heat; He fhines in Council, thunders in the Fight, And flames with ev'ry fenfe of great delight.

Long has that Poet reign'd, and long unknown,
Like Monarchs fparkling on a diftant throne;
In all the Majefty of Greek retir'd,

54

Himself unknown, his mighty name admir'd;
His language failing, wrapt him round with night;
Thine, rais'd by thee, recalls the work to light,
So wealthy Mines, that ages long before
Fed the large realms around with golden Ore.
When choak'd by finking banks, no more appear,
And fhepherds only fay, The mines were here:
Should fome rich youth (if nature warm his heart,

And all his projects ftand inform'd with art)

60

Here clear the caves, there ope the leading vein; The mines detected flame with gold again.

How vaft, how copious, are thy new defigns! 65 How ev'ry Mufic varies in thy lines!

Still, as I read, I feel my bofom beat,
And rife in raptures by another's heat.
Thus in the wood, when fummer drefs'd the days,
While Windfor lent us tuneful hours of eafe,
70
Our ears the lark, the thrufh, the turtle bleft,
And Philomela sweetest o'er the reft:
The fhades refound with fong- O foftly tread,
While a whole season warbles round my head.

80

This to my Friend-and when a friend infpires, My filent harp its master's hand requires. Shakes off the duft, and makes thefe rocks refound; For fortune plac'd me in unfertile ground: Far from the joys that with my foul agree, From wit, from learning-very far from thee. Here mofs-grown trees expand the finalleft leaf; Here half an acre's corn is half a fheaf; Here hills with naked heads the tempeft meet, Rocks at their fides, and torrents at their feet; Or lazy lakes unconfcious of a flood, Whofe dull brown Naiads ever fleep in mud. Yet here Content can dwell, and learned Eafe, A Friend delight me, and an Author please; Ev'n here I fing, when POPE fupplies the theme, Shew my own love, tho' not increase his fame. 90 T. PARNELL.

85

To Mr. POPE.

LET vulgar fouls triumphal arches raife,

Or speaking marbles, to record their praife;
And picture (to the voice of Fame unknown)
The mimic Feature on the breathing stone;
Mere mortals; fubject to death's total fway,
Reptiles of earth, and beings of a day!

'Tis thine, on ev'ry heart to grave thy praise,
A monument which Worth alone can raise :
Sure to furvive, when time fhall whelm in duft
The arch, the marble, and the mimic buft:
Nor 'till the volumes of th' expanded fky
Blaze in one flame, fhalt thou and Homer die :
Then fink together in the world's lalt fires,
What heav'n created, and what heav'n infpires.

If aught on earth, when once this breath is

fled,

With human transport touch the mighty dead,
Shakespear, rejoice! his hand thy page refines;
Now ev'ry fcene with native brightnefs fhines;
Just to thy fame, he gives thy genuine thought;
So Tully publish'd what Lucretius wrote;
Prun'd by his care, thy laurels loftier grow,
And bloom afresh on thy immortal brow.

20

Thus when thy draughts, O Raphael! time in

vades,

And the bold figure from the canvass fades,
A rival hand recalls from ev'ry part
Some latent grace, and equals art with art;

30

Transported we furvey the dubious ftrife,
While each fair image ftarts again to life.
How long, untun'd, had Homer's facred lyre
Jarr'd grating difcord, all extinct his fire?
This you beheld; and, taught by heav'n to fing,
Call'd the loud mufic from the founding ftring.
Now wak'd from flumbers of three thousand years,
Once more Achilles in dread pomp appears,
Tours o'er the field of death; as fierce he turns, 35
Keen flash his arms, and all the Hero burns ;
With marcial stalk, and more than mortal might,
He ftrides along, and meets the Gods in fight:
Then the pale Titans, chain'd on burning floors,
Start at the din that rends th' infernal fhores, 40
Tremble the tow'rs of Heav'n, earth rocks her
coasts,

45

And gloomy Pluto fhakes with all his ghosts.
To ev'ry theme refponds thy various lay;
Here rolls a torrent, there Meanders play;
Sonorous as the ftorin thy numbers rife,
Tofs the wild waves, and thunder in the fkies;
Or fofter than a yielding virgin's figh,
The gentle breezes breathe away and die.
Thus, like the radiant God who fheds the day,
You paint the vale, or gild the azure way;
And while with ev'ry theme the verfe complies,
Sink without groveling; without rafhnefs rife.
Proceed, great Bard! awake th' harmonious ftring,
Be ours all Homer! ftill Ulyffes sing,

How long that Hero a), by unfkilful hands,
Strip'd of his robes, a beggar trod our lands?
Odyffey, lib. xvi.

1

Such as he wander'd o'er his native coast,
Shrunk by the wand, and all the warrior loft:
O'er his fmooth fkin a bark of wrinkles fpread;
Old age difgrac'd the honours of his head;
Nor longer in his heavy eye ball fhin'd
The glance divine, forth-beaming from the mind.
But you, like Pallas, ev'ry limb infold
With royal robes, and bid him fhine in gold;
Touch'd by your hand, his manly frame improves
With grace divine, and like a God he moves.
Ev'n I, the meaneft of the Mufe's train,
Inflam'd by thee, attempt a nobler strain;
Advent'rous waken the Mæonian iyre,

Tun'd by your hand, and fing as you infpire:
So arm'd by great Achilles for the fight,

Patroclus conquer'd in Achilles' right:

Like theirs, our Friendship! and I boast my naine
To thine united for thy Friendship's Fame.
This labour paft, of heav'nly fubjects fing,
While hov'ring angels liften on the wing.
To hear from earth fuch heart-felt raptures rife,
As, when they sing, suspended hold the fkies:
Or nobly rifing in fair Virtue's caufe,
From thy own life tranfcribe th' unerring laws:
Teach a bad world beneath her fway to bend :
To verfe like thine fierce favages attend,

:

60

70

75

80

And men more fierce when Orpheus tunes the lay, Ev'n fiends relenting hear their rage away.

W. BRO O ME.