Eidyllia or, miscellaneous poems; On losing Milton: an Ode. To Isabella: an Ode. The Fair Matron: an Ode. Virtue's Expostulation: an Ode. To Adversity: an Ode. Philocles: a Monody. The Muses triumphant over Venus: a Tale. With a hint to the British Poets. By the Author of Animadversions upon the Reverend Doctor Brown's three essays on the Characteristicks; and of a Criticism on the late Reverend Mr Holland's Sermons [by Robert Colvill] |
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VIRTUE's Expostulation with the British Poets:
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 | Eidyllia |  |
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VIRTUE's Expostulation with the British Poets:
An ODE.
Britannia's Genius! who alone enjoy'st
Fair Liberty well-balanc'd and secure,
Best nurse of arts and sciences divine:
Why dost thou thankless thy poetic fire,
In subjects so unworthy, why mispend?
Satyr, on objects as itself mis-shap'd
Nature's abortions feasting, grins unblest
Fell joy. Pretended Zeal for truth reveal'd,
But with an air and spirit, how reverse!
Monopolizing bounds the Sovereign Grace:
In darkest mystery gropes, yet science vaunts;
And rancour-swollen e'en conscience wou'd enslave.
Romance, that goodly world in vain beheld
With all its gay enlivening scenes around,
Frantic in visionary chaos roams:
Or with some sickly lovetale courts applause,
Transient as the low appetite inflam'd.
Fair Liberty well-balanc'd and secure,
Best nurse of arts and sciences divine:
Why dost thou thankless thy poetic fire,
In subjects so unworthy, why mispend?
Satyr, on objects as itself mis-shap'd
Nature's abortions feasting, grins unblest
Fell joy. Pretended Zeal for truth reveal'd,
But with an air and spirit, how reverse!
Monopolizing bounds the Sovereign Grace:
In darkest mystery gropes, yet science vaunts;
And rancour-swollen e'en conscience wou'd enslave.
Romance, that goodly world in vain beheld
With all its gay enlivening scenes around,
Frantic in visionary chaos roams:
Or with some sickly lovetale courts applause,
Transient as the low appetite inflam'd.
What! Have I then no charms? No images
O'er the intellectual creation spread,
To inchant the wandering fancy with delight,
And warm the generous heart? This wide expanse
Of glory see! Where I, the Holy Nine,
Truth, and these Graces, my unnumber'd train,
Harmonious moving as the tuneful spheres,
From the Supream our borrow'd light diffuse
On spirits elect, as on my Blessed Bards
Of old or late, prophetic or profane:
Whom panting I led up Parnassus' Height
Aloft to Fame. Dare you their guide reject?
Without me hope to immortalize your name?
Me, Universal Nature's boast, the source
Of Beauty's self. Why then to you estrang'd?
Why unadmir'd? Unsung? But, Britons! know,
None Poets are but as by me inspir'd.
O'er the intellectual creation spread,
To inchant the wandering fancy with delight,
And warm the generous heart? This wide expanse
Of glory see! Where I, the Holy Nine,
Truth, and these Graces, my unnumber'd train,
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From the Supream our borrow'd light diffuse
On spirits elect, as on my Blessed Bards
Of old or late, prophetic or profane:
Whom panting I led up Parnassus' Height
Aloft to Fame. Dare you their guide reject?
Without me hope to immortalize your name?
Me, Universal Nature's boast, the source
Of Beauty's self. Why then to you estrang'd?
Why unadmir'd? Unsung? But, Britons! know,
None Poets are but as by me inspir'd.
Virtue's remonstrance, Hume in vision heard:
Awe-struck awak'd, obey'd, and Douglas sung.
Awe-struck awak'd, obey'd, and Douglas sung.
| Eidyllia | |