The Amaranth Or, religious poems; consisting of fables, visions, emblems, etc. Adorned with copper-plates from the best masters [by Walter Harte] |
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INTRODUCTION. |
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 | The Amaranth |  |
75
INTRODUCTION.
Dryden, forgive the Muse that apes thy voice,
Weak to perform, but fortunate in choice.
Who but thy self the mind and ear can please
With strength and softness, energy and ease;
Various of numbers, new in ev'ry strain,
Diffus'd, yet terse, poetical, tho' plain:
Diversify'd 'midst unison of chime;
Freer than air, yet manacled with rhyme?
Thou mak'st each quarry which thou seek'st thy prize,
The reigning eagle of Parnassian skies;
Now soaring 'midst the tracts of light and air,
And now the monarch of the woods and lair .—
Two kingdoms thy united realm compose,
The land of poetry, and land of prose.
Each orphan-muse thy absence inly mourns;
Makes short excursions, and as quick returns:
No more they triumph in their fancy'd bays,
But crown'd with wood-bine dedicate their lays.
Weak to perform, but fortunate in choice.
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With strength and softness, energy and ease;
Various of numbers, new in ev'ry strain,
Diffus'd, yet terse, poetical, tho' plain:
Diversify'd 'midst unison of chime;
Freer than air, yet manacled with rhyme?
Thou mak'st each quarry which thou seek'st thy prize,
The reigning eagle of Parnassian skies;
Now soaring 'midst the tracts of light and air,
And now the monarch of the woods and lair .—
Two kingdoms thy united realm compose,
The land of poetry, and land of prose.
Each orphan-muse thy absence inly mourns;
Makes short excursions, and as quick returns:
No more they triumph in their fancy'd bays,
But crown'd with wood-bine dedicate their lays.
77
Thy thoughts and music change with ev'ry line;
No sameness of a prattling stream is thine,
Which, with one unison of murmur, flows;
Opiate of in-attention and repose!
[So Huron-leeches, when their patient lies
In fev'rish restlessness with un-clos'd eyes,
Apply with gentle strokes their osier-rod,
And tap by tap invite the sleepy God .]
No—'Tis thy pow'r, [thine only,] tho' in rhyme,
To vary ev'ry pause, and ev'ry chime;
Infinite déscant ! sweetly wild and true,
Still shifting, still improving, and still new!—
In quest of classic-plants, and where they grow,
We trace thee, like a lev'ret in the snow.
No sameness of a prattling stream is thine,
Which, with one unison of murmur, flows;
Opiate of in-attention and repose!
[So Huron-leeches, when their patient lies
In fev'rish restlessness with un-clos'd eyes,
Apply with gentle strokes their osier-rod,
And tap by tap invite the sleepy God .]
No—'Tis thy pow'r, [thine only,] tho' in rhyme,
To vary ev'ry pause, and ev'ry chime;
Infinite déscant ! sweetly wild and true,
Still shifting, still improving, and still new!—
In quest of classic-plants, and where they grow,
We trace thee, like a lev'ret in the snow.
Of all the pow'rs the human mind can boast,
The pow'rs of poetry are latest lost:
The falling of thy tresses at threescore,
Gave room to make thy laurels show the more .
The pow'rs of poetry are latest lost:
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Gave room to make thy laurels show the more .
This Prince of poets, who before us went,
Had a vast income, and profusely spent:
Some have his lands, but none his treasur'd store,
Lands un-manur'd by us, and mortgag'd o'er and o'er!
“About his wreaths the vulgar muses strive,
“And with a touch their wither'd bays revive !”
They kiss his tomb, and are enthusiasts made;
So Statius slept, inspir'd by Virgil's shade .
To Spencer much, to Milton much is due;
But in Great Dryden we preserve the Two.
What Muse but his can nature's beauties hit,
Or catch that airy fugitive, call'd wit?
Had a vast income, and profusely spent:
Some have his lands, but none his treasur'd store,
Lands un-manur'd by us, and mortgag'd o'er and o'er!
“About his wreaths the vulgar muses strive,
“And with a touch their wither'd bays revive !”
They kiss his tomb, and are enthusiasts made;
So Statius slept, inspir'd by Virgil's shade .
To Spencer much, to Milton much is due;
But in Great Dryden we preserve the Two.
79
Or catch that airy fugitive, call'd wit?
From limbs of this great Hercules are fram'd
Whole groups of pigmies, who are verse-men nam'd:
Each has a little soul he calls his own,
And each enunciates with a human tone:
Alike in shape; unlike in strength and size;—
One lives for ages, one just breathes and dies.
Whole groups of pigmies, who are verse-men nam'd:
Each has a little soul he calls his own,
And each enunciates with a human tone:
Alike in shape; unlike in strength and size;—
One lives for ages, one just breathes and dies.
O Thou, too great to rival or to praise;
Forgive, lamented shade, these duteous lays.
Lee had thy fire, and Congreve had thy wit;
And copyists, here and there, some likeness hit;
But none possess'd thy graces, and thy ease;
In Thee alone 'twas NATURAL to please!
Forgive, lamented shade, these duteous lays.
Lee had thy fire, and Congreve had thy wit;
And copyists, here and there, some likeness hit;
But none possess'd thy graces, and thy ease;
In Thee alone 'twas NATURAL to please!
More still I think, and more I wish to say;
But bus'ness calls the Muse another way.
But bus'ness calls the Muse another way.
Layer, lair, and lay, The surface of arable or grass-lands. Chaucer; Folkingham, 1610; Dryden. Laire also signifies the place where beasts sleep in the fields, and where they leave the mark of their bodies on young corn, grass, &c.
| The Amaranth | |