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172

To his Friend on the Following Poem.

At length our English Tongue is happy made,
And our Wit's grown industrious as our Trade,
The Reverend Prophet now with Joy may see
The utmost of his Wish fulfill'd in Thee.
All Foreign Wit in English Dress display'd
Without the Help of any Foreign Aid.
Whatever Ancient Greece, or Rome could boast,
Is now transplanted to the British Coast.
Now all their bright Perfections scatter'd shine
In Various Poems, but unite in Thine.
So the Sun yields a double Heat and Light,
When in a Glass his scatter'd Beams unite.
Mæon's Great Son no longer shall confine
To his fam'd Verse the Force of Heat Divine.

173

Our God-like Milton has as nobly wrote,
And sings as boldly as his Angels fought.
Judicious Dryden may with Virgil claim
Of Just, yet Daring Flights, the prudent Fame.
Waller in Verse as tender as his Love,
Like soft Catullus, does our Passions move.
The Boundless Fancy of the Lyrick Song
To Horace, and to Cowley does belong.
Bion and Congreve shall in Mournful Strains
Lament untimely Fate to Weeping Swains.
Brave Cutar, like Tyrteus, shall engage
The Hero's Courage, and the Poet's Rage.
Oldham and Juvenal in keenest Rhimes
Shall lash the Follies of degen'rate Times.
Whither does Fancy hurry me along?
To You, my Friend, this Province does belong.

174

Your Copious Wit alone can Theirs express.
And only Yours can suit du equal Dress.
Your flowing Numbers can alone dispense
The Warmest Fancy with the Coolest Sense
Your Heat of Youth can Tower a Milton's Flight,
And Judgment can, like Virgil, steer it right.
Oh may some Genius, like your self arise
Whose Wit and Learning may the World surprize!
As You have given each tuneful Bard his Due,
May he confer the same Reward on You!
W. Worts.