Page images
PDF
EPUB

Nature to all things fix'd the limits fit,
And wisely curb'd proud man's pretending wit.
As on the land while here the ocean gains,
In other parts it leaves wide sandy plains;
Thus in the soul while memory prevails,
The solid power of understanding fails;
Where beams of warm imagination play,
The memory's soft figures melt away.
One science only will one genius fit,
So vast is art, so narrow human wit :
Not only bounded to peculiar arts,
But oft in those confined to single parts.
Like kings, we lose the conquests gain'd before,
By vain ambition still to make them more:
Each might his several province well command,
Would all but stoop to what they understand.

First follow Nature, and your judgment frame
By her just standard, which is still the same:
Unerring Nature, still divinely bright,
One clear, unchanged, and universal light,
Life, force, and beauty, must to all impart,
At once the source, and end, and test of Art.
Art from that fund each just supply provides,
Works without show, and without pomp presides:
In some fair body thus th' informing soul
With spirits feeds, with vigour fills the whole,
Each motion guides, and every nerve sustains,
Itself unseen, but in th' effects, remains.
Some, to whom Heaven in wit has been profuse,
Want as much more to turn it to its use;

52

60

70

80

VARIATIONS.

VER. 80, 81:

There are whom Heaven has bless'd with store of wit,

Yet want as much again to manage it.

For wit and judgment often are at strife,

Though meant each other's aid, like man and wife.
'Tis more to guide than spur the Muse's steed;
Restrain his fury, than provoke his speed;
The winged courser, like a generous horse,
Shows most true mettle when you check his course.
Those rules, of old discover'd, not devised,
Are Nature still, but Nature methodised;
Nature, like liberty, is but restrain'd

By the same laws which first herself ordain'd.
Hear how learn'd Greece her useful rules indites,
When to repress, and when indulge our flights:
High on Parnassus' top her sons she show'd,
And pointed out those arduous paths they trod;
Held from afar, aloft, th' immortal prize,
And urged the rest by equal steps to rise.
Just precepts thus from great examples given,

She drew from them what they derived from Heaven.
The generous critic fann'd the poet's fire,

And taught the world with reason to admire.
Then Criticism the Muse's handmaid proved,
To dress her charms, and make her more beloved:
But following wits from that intention stray'd,
Who could not win the mistress, woo'd the maid ;
";
Against the poets their own arms they turn'd,
Sure to hate most the men from whom they learn'd.
So modern 'pothecaries, taught the art,
By doctor's bills to play the doctor's part,
Bold in the practice of mistaken rules,
Prescribe, apply, and call their masters fools.
Some on the leaves of ancient authors prey,
Nor time nor moths e'er spoil'd so much as they.
Some drily plain, without invention's aid,
Write dull receipts how poems may be made.

82

90

100

110

These leave the sense, their learning to display,
And those explain the meaning quite away.

116

You then, whose judgment the right course would steer,
Know well each ancient's proper character;
His fable, subject, scope in every page ;
Religion, country, genius of his age;
Without all these at once before your eyes,
Cavil you may, but never criticise.

Be Homer's works your study and delight;
Read them by day, and meditate by night;

130

Thence form your judgment, thence your maxims bring,
And trace the Muses upward to their spring.
Still with itself compared, his text peruse ;
And let your comment be the Mantuan Muse.
When first young Maro in his boundless mind,
A work t'outlast immortal Rome design'd,
Perhaps he seem'd above the critic's law,
And but from Nature's fountains scorn'd to draw:
But when t'examine every part he came,
Nature and Homer were, he found, the same.
Convinced, amazed, he checks the bold design,
And rules as strict his labour'd work confine,
As if the Stagyrite1 o'erlook'd each line.
Learn hence for ancient rules a just esteem;
To copy nature is to copy them.
Some beauties yet no precepts can declare,
For there's a happiness as well as care.

16

'Stagyrite': Aristotle.

VARIATIONS.

VER. 123. The author after this verse originally inserted the following, which he has however omitted in all the editions:

Zoilus, had these been known, without a name Had died, and Perault ne'er been damn'd to fame;

The sense of sound antiquity had reign'd,

140

And sacred Homer yet been unprofaned.
None e'er had thought his comprehensive mind
To modern customs, mcdern rules confined;
Who for all ages writ, and all mankind.

VER. 130, 131:

When first young Maro sung of kings and wars,
Ere warning Phoebus touch'd his trembling ears

Music resembles poetry, in each

Are nameless graces which no methods teach,
And which a master-hand alone can reach.

If, where the rules not far enough extend,
(Since rules were made but to promote their end)
Some lucky license answer to the full

Th' intent proposed, that license is a rule.
Thus Pegasus, a nearer way to take,

May boldly deviate from the common track.
Great wits sometimes may gloriously offend,
And rise to faults true critics dare not mend;
From vulgar bounds with brave disorder part,
And snatch a grace beyond the reach of art,
Which, without passing through the judgment, gains
The heart, and all its end at once attains.

In prospects thus, some objects please our eyes,
Which out of nature's common order rise,
The shapeless rock, or hanging precipice.
But though the ancients thus their rules invade,

(As kings dispense with laws themselves have made)
Moderns, beware! or if you must offend
Against the precept, ne'er transgress its end;
Let it be seldom, and compell'd by need,
And have at least their precedent to plead.
The critic else proceeds without remorse,
Scizes your fame, and puts his laws in force.

113

150

160

170

I know there are, to whose presumptuous thoughts,
Those freer beauties, e'en in them, seem faults.
Some figures monstrous and misshaped appear,
Consider'd singly, or beheld too near,

Which, but proportion'd to their light, or place,
Due distance reconciles to form and grace.
A prudent chief not always must display
His powers in equal ranks, and fair array,

But with th' occasion and the place comply,
Conceal his force, nay, seem sometimes to fly.
Those oft are stratagems which errors seem,
Nor is it Homer nods, but we that dream.

Still green with bays each ancient altar stands,
Above the reach of sacrilegious hands;

Secure from flames, from envy's fiercer rage,
Destructive war, and all-involving age.

See from each clime the learn'd their incense bring!
Hear in all tongues consenting pæans ring!

In praise so just let every voice be join'd,
And fill the general chorus of mankind.
Hail, Bards triumphant ! born in happier days;
Immortal heirs of universal praise!

Whose honours with increase of ages grow,

As streams roll down, enlarging as they flow;
Nations unborn your mighty names shall sound,
And worlds applaud that must not yet be found!
Oh may some spark of your celestial fire,
The last, the meanest of your sons inspire,
(That on weak wings, from far, pursues your flights,
Glows while he reads, but trembles as he writes)
To teach vain wits a science little known,
T'admire superior sense, and doubt their own!

PART SECOND.

Of all the causes which conspire to blind
Man's erring judgment, and misguide the mind,
What the weak head with strongest bias rules,
Is PRIDE, the never-failing vice of fools.
Whatever Nature has in worth denied,

She gives in large recruits of needless pride;
For as in bodies, thus in souls, we find

What wants in blood and spirits, swell'd with wind:

177

190

200

« EelmineJätka »