 | Miscellanies in Prose and Verse |  |
To Mr. MASON, on his ELFRIDA.
Hence, livid Envy, murkiest fiend of hell,
Hence, blood-stain'd Malice, to thy baleful cell;
Avaunt, and shed not here your venom'd rage,
Nor with your touch pollute the sacred page;
To MASON the melodious lays belong,
MASON, the soul of genius and of song!
Hence, blood-stain'd Malice, to thy baleful cell;
Avaunt, and shed not here your venom'd rage,
Nor with your touch pollute the sacred page;
To MASON the melodious lays belong,
MASON, the soul of genius and of song!
157
Hail, bard sublime, with raptur'd eyes we see
The soul of Sophocles reviv'd in thee;
Hail, wondr'ous youth! in whose bright strains conspire
Plato's cool judgment, and warm Pindar's fire;
Whilst Homer's grandeur, Virgil's sweetness join,
To make each noble sentiment divine.
The soul of Sophocles reviv'd in thee;
Hail, wondr'ous youth! in whose bright strains conspire
Plato's cool judgment, and warm Pindar's fire;
Whilst Homer's grandeur, Virgil's sweetness join,
To make each noble sentiment divine.
What grief, that scenes, which in an earlier age
Had won the wreath on Athen's polish'd stage;
Those scenes produc'd beneath bright learning's throne,
Which Delpho's god without a blush might own;
Those scenes where fire-fraught fancy's strongest ray
Adorns and animates the moral lay;
What grief that scenes like these, by wayward chance,
Must yield to pantomime, or paultry dance?
While the true Attic elegance and wit,
Dare hope no plaudit from a British pit.
Had won the wreath on Athen's polish'd stage;
Those scenes produc'd beneath bright learning's throne,
Which Delpho's god without a blush might own;
Those scenes where fire-fraught fancy's strongest ray
Adorns and animates the moral lay;
What grief that scenes like these, by wayward chance,
Must yield to pantomime, or paultry dance?
While the true Attic elegance and wit,
Dare hope no plaudit from a British pit.
What is th' applause of a theatric croud!
The breath of folly, by caprice bestow'd.
A soul like thine disdains such trivial praise,
Nor seeks to mount to fame by vulgar ways;
Nobly content with modest merit's due,
The just applause of the judicious few.
The breath of folly, by caprice bestow'd.
158
Nor seeks to mount to fame by vulgar ways;
Nobly content with modest merit's due,
The just applause of the judicious few.
That just applause for ever shall be thine,
And thro' all ages thy Elfrida shine;
Elfrida's still shall live with MASON's name,
Distinguish'd in the brightest rolls of fame.
And thro' all ages thy Elfrida shine;
Elfrida's still shall live with MASON's name,
Distinguish'd in the brightest rolls of fame.
| Miscellanies in Prose and Verse | |