 | [Poems in] Poetical miscellanies |  |
190
To the Right Honourable Charles, Lord Hallifax,
OCCASION'D By translating into Latin his Lordship's Poem on the Boyn; and Mr. Stepney's on the late King's Voyage into Holland.
Writ in the Year 1709.
By Mr. EUSDEN.
My Lord,
To You, when
publick Grief implor'd your Aid,
The first faint Products of my Muse were pay'd:
To You again in Cannisters I bring
These early Gath'rings of a second Spring.
The noblest Fruits, that ever Blest our Isle,
See here transplanted to the Roman Soil;
But so transplanted, that too soon they show,
They did not first in Roman Climates grow.
Sure rowling Spheres in other Orbits run,
And Italy has lost her warmer Sun:
Or now the boasted Majesty of Rome,
Is more than rivall'd in the British Loom:
Or I forget my Faults, and should accuse
The rash Endeavours of a feeble Muse.
Fool, as she was, to imitate, so young,
The lov'd, the prais'd, th'inimitable Song,
And paint your Glories in the Latian Tongue.
The callow Eaglet wisely takes his Rest,
Safe in the covert of a downey Nest:
Till grown mature in Strength, he dares to flie,
Faces the glaring Sun, and tow'rs on High,
And bears the ratling Thunder thro' the Sky.
The first faint Products of my Muse were pay'd:
To You again in Cannisters I bring
These early Gath'rings of a second Spring.
191
See here transplanted to the Roman Soil;
But so transplanted, that too soon they show,
They did not first in Roman Climates grow.
Sure rowling Spheres in other Orbits run,
And Italy has lost her warmer Sun:
Or now the boasted Majesty of Rome,
Is more than rivall'd in the British Loom:
Or I forget my Faults, and should accuse
The rash Endeavours of a feeble Muse.
Fool, as she was, to imitate, so young,
The lov'd, the prais'd, th'inimitable Song,
And paint your Glories in the Latian Tongue.
The callow Eaglet wisely takes his Rest,
Safe in the covert of a downey Nest:
Till grown mature in Strength, he dares to flie,
Faces the glaring Sun, and tow'rs on High,
And bears the ratling Thunder thro' the Sky.
As in return to Heav'n for large Supplies,
From the same Gifts we cull a Sacrifice;
So you receive a Labour of your own,
If, thus disguis'd, the wond'rous Piece be known:
If thro' this rough-drawn Copy still you trace
Some lively Features of a beauteous Face.
But I beyond Promethean Frauds aspire,
Not only steal, but smother Heav'nly Fire.
Where are the Flights, (true Criticks may reclaim)
The Heat, the Force, and Fancy, wing'd with Flame?
Where is great William's glorious Image seen,
Like Jove, his Grandeur, and like Mars, his Mien?
No Gods descending here adorn the Scene.
Such was the Change, when bright Diana stood
Amidst her thousand Nymphs, besmear'd with Mud:
Alphæus, close pursuing, gaz'd unmov'd,
Nor knew the Goddess, he so fiercely lov'd.
From the same Gifts we cull a Sacrifice;
192
If, thus disguis'd, the wond'rous Piece be known:
If thro' this rough-drawn Copy still you trace
Some lively Features of a beauteous Face.
But I beyond Promethean Frauds aspire,
Not only steal, but smother Heav'nly Fire.
Where are the Flights, (true Criticks may reclaim)
The Heat, the Force, and Fancy, wing'd with Flame?
Where is great William's glorious Image seen,
Like Jove, his Grandeur, and like Mars, his Mien?
No Gods descending here adorn the Scene.
Such was the Change, when bright Diana stood
Amidst her thousand Nymphs, besmear'd with Mud:
Alphæus, close pursuing, gaz'd unmov'd,
Nor knew the Goddess, he so fiercely lov'd.
Yet blame your Muse, that gave too much Delight;
'Tis fatal to be eminently Bright.
You from Translations had escap'd unharm'd,
Were I less daring, or had you less charm'd.
Poems I view'd around of ev'ry Size;
But, Pirate-like, flew to the richest Prize.
So starting sudden from his dark Abode
To chuse a Consort, rush'd the Stygian God.
Scouring, he drove his Steeds o'er Enna's Plains
Thro' Crowds of swooning Nymphs, and frighted Swains:
On ev'ry Side his eager Eyes he cast,
But Proserpine the rest in Form surpast.
The Ravisher no longer could forbear,
Furious on Her he seiz'd, tho' many a Fair,
And all Sicilia's blooming Pride was there.
'Tis fatal to be eminently Bright.
You from Translations had escap'd unharm'd,
Were I less daring, or had you less charm'd.
193
But, Pirate-like, flew to the richest Prize.
So starting sudden from his dark Abode
To chuse a Consort, rush'd the Stygian God.
Scouring, he drove his Steeds o'er Enna's Plains
Thro' Crowds of swooning Nymphs, and frighted Swains:
On ev'ry Side his eager Eyes he cast,
But Proserpine the rest in Form surpast.
The Ravisher no longer could forbear,
Furious on Her he seiz'd, tho' many a Fair,
And all Sicilia's blooming Pride was there.
Some, by kind Fates, to Greatness force their Way,
And without Dawnings show a glorious Day:
Others, by Fortune, and industrious Strife,
Arrive at Honours, in the Noon of Life.
Many by painful, slow degrees ascend,
And anxious, till the verge of Death, attend.
Great Dryden did not early Great appear,
Faintly distinguish'd in his thirti'th Year:
But Nature, when she would a Poet doom
To show ripe Wonders in his op'ning Bloom,
Lavishly gives from all her choicest Mines,
And the rich Oar with nicer Care refines.
Britannia grieves, such Blessings are but few,
A Cowley, C---ve, and a M---gue.
And without Dawnings show a glorious Day:
Others, by Fortune, and industrious Strife,
Arrive at Honours, in the Noon of Life.
Many by painful, slow degrees ascend,
And anxious, till the verge of Death, attend.
Great Dryden did not early Great appear,
Faintly distinguish'd in his thirti'th Year:
194
To show ripe Wonders in his op'ning Bloom,
Lavishly gives from all her choicest Mines,
And the rich Oar with nicer Care refines.
Britannia grieves, such Blessings are but few,
A Cowley, C---ve, and a M---gue.
Could you, my Lord, the trembling Muse forgive,
And bid the Criminal, twice Guilty, live;
Yet how can she those Injuries defend,
Done to your Dear, (alas!) departed Friend?
Stepney! in Foreign Courts a Fav'rite Name,
For ever sacred to the Voice of Fame.
Abroad, at Home, his Actions Wonder mov'd;
Great was the Glory to be thus approv'd,
But greater that, to be by you belov'd.
And bid the Criminal, twice Guilty, live;
Yet how can she those Injuries defend,
Done to your Dear, (alas!) departed Friend?
Stepney! in Foreign Courts a Fav'rite Name,
For ever sacred to the Voice of Fame.
Abroad, at Home, his Actions Wonder mov'd;
Great was the Glory to be thus approv'd,
But greater that, to be by you belov'd.
O! were the Graces which adorn your Mind,
Not to themselves so gloriously unkind!
Could you, untroubled, your own Praise receive,
Who Praise to others are so pleas'd to give?
Fir'd with the Theme, I had not crept so long
In lowly Numbers, and a rural Song.
Ev'n now my Voice I would attempt to raise,
And to new Wonders consecrate new Lays.
Such, as might sooth the most harmonious Ear,
Nor G---th, nor Ad---n, should blush to hear.
But you already modestly refuse,
And check the Sallies of th'ambitious Muse.
Yet tho' your Glories are with Care conceal'd,
Virtues, when cover'd most, are most reveal'd.
We view with Pleasure ev'ry vulgar Stone,
While richest Jewels are with caution shown.
Not to themselves so gloriously unkind!
195
Who Praise to others are so pleas'd to give?
Fir'd with the Theme, I had not crept so long
In lowly Numbers, and a rural Song.
Ev'n now my Voice I would attempt to raise,
And to new Wonders consecrate new Lays.
Such, as might sooth the most harmonious Ear,
Nor G---th, nor Ad---n, should blush to hear.
But you already modestly refuse,
And check the Sallies of th'ambitious Muse.
Yet tho' your Glories are with Care conceal'd,
Virtues, when cover'd most, are most reveal'd.
We view with Pleasure ev'ry vulgar Stone,
While richest Jewels are with caution shown.
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