The Works of the Late Aaron Hill ... In Four Volumes. Consisting of Letters on Various Subjects, And of Original Poems, Moral and Facetious. With An Essay on the Art of Acting |
![]() |
On Mr. Cowley's introducing Pindaric Verse.
|
![]() |
![]() |
![]() | The Works of the Late Aaron Hill | ![]() |
238
On Mr. Cowley's introducing Pindaric Verse.
I.
Sacred soul! harmonious swan!Whose sweetest notes, long before death, began!
And the long tuneful race, unwearied, ran!
Long, before death, began the song; and still the song improv'd,
And still new strings, and still new pleasure mov'd!
How, mighty muse! did'st thou, and thou, alone,
(For the gigantic task was all thy own)
Find means to draw such unexhausted store,
From springs, which were so poor?
From fountains, choak'd with blood, and made, by dust, impure.
How, 'midst an iron age,
The dreadful, and the over-acted stage,
Of undistinguish'd scenes of rage,
Where striving merit, struck, by mis'ry, fell;
And all, that learning, then, could teach, was, how to suffer well.
239
Did'st thou, immortal man! when arts were overthrown,
When all the muses garden was o'ergrown,
And whole Parnassus tumbled down,
Stand on its ruins, and erect a new one, of thy own.
II.
Yet, as within the all-enlight'ning sun,Some spots our glasses find, amidst the blaze,
Too small, tho' visible, to look on, long,
Because encircled, with eye-dazzling rays;
So thou, great king of fancy! led astray,
By thy high-melted muse, uncurb'd and gay,
And prancing proudly on, in wit's unmeasur'd way!
Ha'st err'd, in judgment, where thou did'st design,
Thy judgment, most should shine!
But all that's human, in thy verse, is lost, in the divine.
Immortal man! thou dost, too rashly, blame
The wasteful spirit of thy gloomy times,
Ev'n of that age of crimes,
Which gave the fate of suff'ring Charles to fame!
240
Tho' eagle-ey'd, in mortal sight,
Oft, thus mistakes, for chance, heav'n's well-resolv'd decree,
And does, against it, fight!
That, which lights, to shadows, are,
Or peace, to war;
Such was that age, to thee!
Such contraries almighty wisdom finds,
And stamps on human minds;
That virtue's visage made, thereby, more bright,
May, when set opposite to sin's black night,
To strike all eyes, that shall her lustre see,
Shine out, with double force, and doubly charming be.
III.
So fell the royal martyr, to convinceThe wond'ring ages since,
How blest their fathers were, in such a prince!
Oh! wond'rous! mystic! undiscover'd maze!
What man can search his God's untrodden ways!
Hence our slow learners, late, are taught lost worth to idolize!
241
(What heav'n, thence, meant to show)
How many curses three torn nations owe
To zeal's hot sons, who, really, had no eyes,
And pride, who saw truth, plain, and, seeing, durst despise.
So, too, immortal subject of my muse!
The fav'rite theme, she loves to chuse!
So, too, the sable ignorance of that age,
Like foils, which lustre can, to diamonds, give,
Inspir'd thy sacred muse, with that just rage,
Which greatly handing up to fame,
Thine, and thy sov'reign's rescu'd name,
Shall ev'n thy Pindar's praise, but in thy works, outlive.
![]() | The Works of the Late Aaron Hill | ![]() |