The Works of Mr. Robert Gould In Two Volumes. Consisting of those Poems [and] Satyrs Which were formerly Printed, and Corrected since by the Author; As also of the many more which He Design'd for the Press. Publish'd from his Own Original Copies [by Robert Gould] |
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On the new Edition of Godfrey of
Bulloigne in 1687.
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 | The Works of Mr. Robert Gould |  |
On the new Edition of Godfrey of Bulloigne in 1687.
Long this stupendious Work has lain obscur'd,
From gloomy Times a long Eclipse endur'd;
But now it rises like a cloudless Sun,
And brings as great a Tyde of Glory on.
Hail Heavenly Poem! while these Strains we hear,
The Soul does mount into the ravish'd Ear,
And knows no other Sense, but fixes there;
So wond'rous are the Actions here enroll'd,
And in such high harmonious Numbers told.
From gloomy Times a long Eclipse endur'd;
But now it rises like a cloudless Sun,
And brings as great a Tyde of Glory on.
Hail Heavenly Poem! while these Strains we hear,
The Soul does mount into the ravish'd Ear,
And knows no other Sense, but fixes there;
So wond'rous are the Actions here enroll'd,
And in such high harmonious Numbers told.
See here you dull Translators, look with shame
Upon this stately Monument of Fame;
And to amaze you more, reflect how long
It is since first 'twas taught the English Tongue,
In what a gloomy Age 'twas brought to Light;
Dark? no, our Age is Dark, and that was bright.
Of all those Versions that now brightest shine,
Most, Fairfax, are but Foils to set off thine.
Ev'n Horace can't of too much Justice boast,
His unaffected easie stile is lost;
And Ogilby's the Lumber of the Stall:
But thy succinct Translation does atone for all.
Upon this stately Monument of Fame;
And to amaze you more, reflect how long
It is since first 'twas taught the English Tongue,
In what a gloomy Age 'twas brought to Light;
Dark? no, our Age is Dark, and that was bright.
Of all those Versions that now brightest shine,
Most, Fairfax, are but Foils to set off thine.
Ev'n Horace can't of too much Justice boast,
His unaffected easie stile is lost;
And Ogilby's the Lumber of the Stall:
But thy succinct Translation does atone for all.
64
'Tis true, some few exploded Words we find,
To which we ought not to be too unkind:
For in Significance, we must allow,
They're better than some new admitted now.
Our Language is at best—but soon twill fail,
If foreign Words licentiously prevail.
Let Waller be our Standard; all beside
Is travell'd Ignorance, or trifling Pride.
The tow'ring British Heights who e'er wou'd reach,
Must not with French emasculate our Speech
To which we ought not to be too unkind:
For in Significance, we must allow,
They're better than some new admitted now.
Our Language is at best—but soon twill fail,
If foreign Words licentiously prevail.
Let Waller be our Standard; all beside
Is travell'd Ignorance, or trifling Pride.
The tow'ring British Heights who e'er wou'd reach,
Must not with French emasculate our Speech
For thee too Tasso, I a Wreath wou'd twine,
Of my low Strain cou'd reach the Praise of thine.
Homer came first, and much to him is due,
Virgil, the next, does claim our Wonder too,
And the third Place must be conferr'd on you:
Thy Work is thro' with the same Spirit fir'd,
Will last as long and be as much admir'd.
Of my low Strain cou'd reach the Praise of thine.
Homer came first, and much to him is due,
Virgil, the next, does claim our Wonder too,
And the third Place must be conferr'd on you:
Thy Work is thro' with the same Spirit fir'd,
Will last as long and be as much admir'd.
If lofty Verse undaunted Thoughts inspire,
And fill the Hero's Blood with Martial Fire;
May the Great Chief that does the Turk engage
(The Ornament and Safety of his Age)
May He a (Scourge to Infidels unblest)
Take Pattern by the Warriour here exprest;
And drive, like him, with an avenging Hand,
Those Unbelievers from the sacred Land;
Free the Great Sepulchre of CHRIST once more,
And be what mighty Godfrey was before!
And fill the Hero's Blood with Martial Fire;
May the Great Chief that does the Turk engage
(The Ornament and Safety of his Age)
May He a (Scourge to Infidels unblest)
Take Pattern by the Warriour here exprest;
And drive, like him, with an avenging Hand,
Those Unbelievers from the sacred Land;
Free the Great Sepulchre of CHRIST once more,
And be what mighty Godfrey was before!
| The Works of Mr. Robert Gould | |