 | The Poems of Ambrose Philips |  |
Accept the present of a grateful song;
This prelude may provoke the learned throng:
To Cam and Isis shall the joyful news,
By me convey'd, awaken every muse.
Even now the vocal tribe in verse conspires;
And I already hear their sounding lyres:
To them the mighty labour I resign,
Give up the Theme, and quit the tuneful Nine.
So when the spring first smiles among the trees,
And blossoms open to the vernal breez,
The watchful nightingale, with early strains,
Summons the warblers of the woods and plains,
But drops her musick, when the choir appear,
And listens to the concert of the year.
This prelude may provoke the learned throng:
To Cam and Isis shall the joyful news,
By me convey'd, awaken every muse.
Even now the vocal tribe in verse conspires;
And I already hear their sounding lyres:
To them the mighty labour I resign,
Give up the Theme, and quit the tuneful Nine.
So when the spring first smiles among the trees,
And blossoms open to the vernal breez,
The watchful nightingale, with early strains,
Summons the warblers of the woods and plains,
But drops her musick, when the choir appear,
And listens to the concert of the year.
| The Poems of Ambrose Philips | |