 | The Sacrifice |  |
TO THE AUTHOR.
When
o'r the World the mild Augustus reign'd,
Wit's Empire too the Roman Poets gain'd:
So when the first auspicious James possest
Our Brittish World, and in Possessing blest;
Our Poets wore the Lawrels of the Age,
While Shakespear, Fletcher, Johnson Crown'd the Stage.
And tho our Cœsars since have rais'd the State,
Our Poetry sustains the Roman Fate.
In less Essays successful we have been,
But lost the Nobler Province of the Scene:
Perverters, not Reformers of the Stage,
Deprav'd to Farce, or more fantastick Rage.
Wit's Empire too the Roman Poets gain'd:
So when the first auspicious James possest
Our Brittish World, and in Possessing blest;
Our Poets wore the Lawrels of the Age,
While Shakespear, Fletcher, Johnson Crown'd the Stage.
And tho our Cœsars since have rais'd the State,
Our Poetry sustains the Roman Fate.
In less Essays successful we have been,
But lost the Nobler Province of the Scene:
Perverters, not Reformers of the Stage,
Deprav'd to Farce, or more fantastick Rage.
How therefore shall we Celebrate thy Name,
Whose Genius has so well retriev'd our Fame?
Whose happy Muse such Wonders can impart,
And temper Shakespear's Flame with Johnson's Art.
Whose Characters set just Examples forth;
Mix Humane Frailties with Heroick Worth:
Shunning th'Extreams in Modern Heroes seen,
Than God's more perfect, or more frail than Men.
With Reason, Nature, Truth our Minds you treat,
And shew a Prince irregularly Great.
A generous Soul storm'd by impetuous Love,
Which yet from Virtue's Centre scorns to move.
Thus while the Hero does himself defeat,
Your Tamerlane is rendred truly GREAT,
When by his Troops whole Empires were o'rthrown,
'Twas Fortune's Work, this Conquest was his own.
Your Monarch rages in Othello's Strein,
Iago in Ragalzan lives again.
Not Hecuba like your Despina Rag'd,
Like Her, for Empire and a Monarchs Fate engag'd:
With Iphigene your Fair Irene vies,
And falls a more lamented Sacrifice.
Whose Genius has so well retriev'd our Fame?
Whose happy Muse such Wonders can impart,
And temper Shakespear's Flame with Johnson's Art.
Whose Characters set just Examples forth;
Mix Humane Frailties with Heroick Worth:
Shunning th'Extreams in Modern Heroes seen,
Than God's more perfect, or more frail than Men.
With Reason, Nature, Truth our Minds you treat,
And shew a Prince irregularly Great.
Which yet from Virtue's Centre scorns to move.
Thus while the Hero does himself defeat,
Your Tamerlane is rendred truly GREAT,
When by his Troops whole Empires were o'rthrown,
'Twas Fortune's Work, this Conquest was his own.
Your Monarch rages in Othello's Strein,
Iago in Ragalzan lives again.
Not Hecuba like your Despina Rag'd,
Like Her, for Empire and a Monarchs Fate engag'd:
With Iphigene your Fair Irene vies,
And falls a more lamented Sacrifice.
Your Stile, tho just, subservient to the Thought;
So Milton, by Aonian Muses taught,
His Numbers in Majestic Plainness wrought.
Methinks I see the Pyrat-Wits of France
Already to this Noble Prize advance:
An Artifice in which they most excel,
But still, the Sense they steal, they Husband well:
Thus Sir, they'll melt your Oar, tho not Refine;
While each rich Thought of yours, each massey Line,
Drawn to French Wire shall through whole Volumes shine.
So Milton, by Aonian Muses taught,
His Numbers in Majestic Plainness wrought.
Methinks I see the Pyrat-Wits of France
Already to this Noble Prize advance:
An Artifice in which they most excel,
But still, the Sense they steal, they Husband well:
Thus Sir, they'll melt your Oar, tho not Refine;
While each rich Thought of yours, each massey Line,
Drawn to French Wire shall through whole Volumes shine.
Accept our Thanks, tho you decline the Stage,
That yet you condescend the Press t'engage:
For while we thus possess the precious Store,
Our Benefit's the same, your Glory more;
Thus, for a Theatre the World you find,
And your Applauding Audience, All Mankind.
That yet you condescend the Press t'engage:
For while we thus possess the precious Store,
Our Benefit's the same, your Glory more;
Thus, for a Theatre the World you find,
And your Applauding Audience, All Mankind.
N. TATE.
| The Sacrifice | |