Lyric Poems Made in Imitation of the Italians. Of which, many are Translations From other Languages ... By Philip Ayres |
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On the Art of Writing.
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 | Lyric Poems |  |
95
On the Art of Writing.
Sure 'twas some God, in kindness first to Men,
Taught us the Curious Art to use the Pen.
'Tis strange the speaking Quill should, without Noise,
Express the various Tones of Humane Voice;
Taught us the Curious Art to use the Pen.
'Tis strange the speaking Quill should, without Noise,
Express the various Tones of Humane Voice;
Of loudest Accents we no Sound retain,
Voice to its Native Air resolves again;
Yet thô as Wind Words seem to pass away;
By Pen we can their very Echoes stay.
Voice to its Native Air resolves again;
Yet thô as Wind Words seem to pass away;
By Pen we can their very Echoes stay.
When we from other Converse are confin'd,
This can reveal the Secrets of the Mind:
All Authors must to it their Praises own,
For 'twas the Pen that made their Labours known.
This can reveal the Secrets of the Mind:
All Authors must to it their Praises own,
For 'twas the Pen that made their Labours known.
Good Acts with bad Tradition would confound,
But what we writ is kept intire and sound:
Of this Ingenious Art Fame loudly sings,
Which gives us lasting Words, and lasting Things.
But what we writ is kept intire and sound:
Of this Ingenious Art Fame loudly sings,
Which gives us lasting Words, and lasting Things.
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