Poems on Several Occasions :: :: University of Virginia Library

Thou matchless Poet, whose capacious Mind
Contains the whole that Knowledge can impart,
Where we each charming Science find,
And ev'ry pleasing Art:
Permit my Muse in plain unpolish'd Verse,
In humble Strains her Wonder to rehearse:
From her low Shade she lifts her dazl'd Sight,
And views the Splendor and amazing Height:
See's boundless Wit, in artful Numbers play,
And like the glorious Source of Day,
To distant Worlds both Light and Heat convey.

2.

Before the happy Birth of Light,
E'er Nature did her forming Pow'r display,
While blended in their native Night,
The Principles of all things lay;
Triumphant Darkness did her self dilate,
And thro' the Chaos with resistless Sway
Her dusky Horrors spread;
Such in this Isle was once our wretched State:
Dark melancholy Night her sable Wings display'd,
And all around her baleful Influence shed;
From Gloom, to Gloom, with weary'd Steps we stray'd,
Till Chaucer came with his delusive Light,
And gave some transient Glimm'rings to the Night:
Next kinder Spencer with his Lunar Beams
Inrich'd our Skies, and wak'd us from our Dreams:
Then pleasing Visions did our Minds delight,
And airy Spectres danc'd before our Sight:
Amidst our Shades in antick Rounds we mov'd,
And the bright entertaining Phantoms lov'd.

3.

With Waller our first Dawn of Light arose,
He did the Beauties of the Morn disclose:
Then Milton came, and Cowley blest our Eyes;
With Joy we saw the distant Glory rise:
But there remain'd some Footsteps of the Night,
Dark Shadows still were intermix'd with Light:
Those Shades the mighty Dryden chas'd away,
And shew'd the Triumphs of refulgent Day:
Now all is clear, and all is bright,

Our Sun from his Meridian height
Darts kindly down reviving Rays,
And one continu'd Splendor crowns our Days.

4.

This Work, great Poet, was reserv'd for thee,
None else cou'd us from our Confinement free:
By thee led on, we climb the sacred Hill,
And our pleas'd Eyes with distant Prospects fill:
View all th' Acquests thy conqu'ring Pen has made,
Th' immortal Trophies of thy Fame:
And see, as if we stood on Magick Ground,
Majestick Ghosts with verdant Laurels crown'd:
Illustrious Heroes, ev'ry glorious Name,
That can a Place in ancient Records claim:
Among the rest, thy Virgil's awful Shade,
Whom thou hast rais'd to bless our happy Land,
Does circl'd round with radiant Honours stand:
He's now the welcom Native of our Isle,
And crowns our Hopes with an auspicious Smile;
With him we wander thro' the Depths below,
And into Nature's Close Recesses go;
View all the Secrets of th' infernal State,
And search into the dark Intriegues of Fate:
Survey the Pleasures of th' Elysian Fields,
And see what Joys the highest Region yields.

5.

What Thanks, thou gen'rous Man, can we repay,
What equal Retributions make,
For all thy Pains, and all thy Care,
And all those Toils, whose kind Effects we share?

Our Language like th' Augean Stable lay,
Rude and uncleans'd, till thou by Glory mov'd,
Th' Herculean Task didst undertake,
And hast with Floods of Wit th' offensive Heaps remov'd:
That ancient Rubbish of the Gothick Times,
When manly Sense was lost in trifling Rhimes:
Now th' unform'd Mass is to Perfection wrought;
Thou hast inlarg'd our Knowledge, and resin'd our Thought.
Long mayst thou shine within our British Sphere,
And may not Age, nor Care,
The sprightly Vigor of thy Mind impair:
Let Envy cease, and all thy Merits own,
And let our due Regards in Praise be ever shown:
And when from hence thou shalt remove
To bless th' harmonious World above,
May thy strong Genius on our Isle descend,
And what it has inspir'd, eternally defend.