The Works of Horace In English Verse By several hands. Collected and Published By Mr. Duncombe. With Notes Historical and Critical |
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The Same EPISTLE Imitated.
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The Works of Horace In English Verse | ||
342
The Same EPISTLE Imitated.
[You, whom all Places in their Turns delight]
By Mr. Nevile, Fellow of Jesus College, Cambridge.
You, whom all Places in their Turns delight,
Say, whither do you next direct your Flight?
To Town? to Country? or do you repair
To flutter at Brighthelmstone with the Fair?
Will nothing from the Press this Season steal,
To give the Nibblers of these Times a Meal?
Can Mason Days of Gothic Darkness grace,
And not to Railings rouse the snarling Race?
Mason, who creeps not with low Sons of Rhyme,
But on Pindaric Pinions soars sublime!
Sleeps he? or does he meditate again
To rival Athens in the Tragic Strain?
Or, kindling with a Ray of purer Fire,
To holiest Raptures wake the British Lyre?
Say, whither do you next direct your Flight?
To Town? to Country? or do you repair
To flutter at Brighthelmstone with the Fair?
Will nothing from the Press this Season steal,
To give the Nibblers of these Times a Meal?
343
And not to Railings rouse the snarling Race?
Mason, who creeps not with low Sons of Rhyme,
But on Pindaric Pinions soars sublime!
Sleeps he? or does he meditate again
To rival Athens in the Tragic Strain?
Or, kindling with a Ray of purer Fire,
To holiest Raptures wake the British Lyre?
Does Celsus still a War with Reason wage,
And spread French Tinsel o'er his pilfer'd Page?
How shall we titter at this fluttering Jay,
When his bright Plumes fall one by one away;
When cruel Critics cull each glittering Line,
And give it back to Boileau and Racine!
Or say, what Sweets invite your roving Muse?
You want not Genius, but the Will to use;
Sure in whate'er you do to win Applause:
Whether you lend a Polish to the Laws;
To Culprit Clowns explain what's just and fit,
Or charm the Circle with a Flow of Wit.
Go! the cold Lenitives of Care resign;
Go! while you may, wear Wisdom's Wreath divine:
For this all toil, who shine, or e'er have shone,
Friends to Mankind's true Interests, or their own.
Sprinkle an Anecdote or two of State:
Has Union heal'd the Bickerings of the Great?
Or does Court-policy drop Balsam o'er
The Wound, that closes, but to gape the more.
Howe'er that be, some Comfort we must feel,
While wakes One Patriot for the public Weal.
And spread French Tinsel o'er his pilfer'd Page?
How shall we titter at this fluttering Jay,
When his bright Plumes fall one by one away;
When cruel Critics cull each glittering Line,
And give it back to Boileau and Racine!
Or say, what Sweets invite your roving Muse?
You want not Genius, but the Will to use;
Sure in whate'er you do to win Applause:
Whether you lend a Polish to the Laws;
To Culprit Clowns explain what's just and fit,
Or charm the Circle with a Flow of Wit.
Go! the cold Lenitives of Care resign;
Go! while you may, wear Wisdom's Wreath divine:
344
Friends to Mankind's true Interests, or their own.
Sprinkle an Anecdote or two of State:
Has Union heal'd the Bickerings of the Great?
Or does Court-policy drop Balsam o'er
The Wound, that closes, but to gape the more.
Howe'er that be, some Comfort we must feel,
While wakes One Patriot for the public Weal.
The Works of Horace In English Verse | ||