But with th' occafion and the place comply,
Conceal his force, nay fometimes feem to fly.
Those oft are stratagems which errors seem,
Nor is it Homer nods, but we that dream.
Still green with bays each ancient Altar stands,
Above the reach of facrilegious hands;
Secure from Flames, from Envy's fiercer rage,
Destructive War, and all-involving Age.
See from each clime the learn'd their incenfe bring!
Hear, in all tongues consenting Pans ring!
In praise so just let every voice be join'd,
And fill the general chorus of mankind.
Hail, Bards triumphant! born in happier days;
Immortal heirs of universal praise !
Whose honours with increase of ages grow,
As ftreams roll down, enlarging as they flow ;
Nations unborn your mighty names fhall found,
And worlds applaud that must not yet be found!
O may some spark of your celeftial fire,
The laft, the meanest of your fons inspire,
(That, on weak wings, from far pursues your flights;
Glows while he reads, but trembles as he writes)
To teach vain wits a science little known,
T'admire fuperior sense, and doubt their own :
Oft hide his force, nay feem fometimes to fly. Ver. 184. Ed.. 1. Destructive war, and all-devouring Age. Ver. 186. Ed. 1.
Hear, in all tongues applauding Pæans ring!
Ver. 197. Ed. 1. That with weak wings, &c.
Of all the causes which conspire to blind
Man's erring judgment, and mifguide the mind,
What the weak head with strongest bias rules,
Is PRIDE, the never-failing vice of fools.
Whatever Nature has in worth deny'd,
She gives in large recruits of needful Pride!
For as in bodies, thus in fouls, we find
What wants in blood and spirits, fwell'd with wind: Pride, where Wit fails, fteps in to our defence,
And fills up all the mighty void of fenfe.
If once right reason drives that cloud away,
Truth breaks upon us with refiftlefs day.
Trust not yourself; but, your defects to know,
Make use of every friend-and every foe.
A little learning is a dangerous thing!
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring :
There fhallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
And drinking largely fobers us again.
Fir'd at first fight with what the Muse imparts,
In fearless youth we tempt the heights of Arts,
While, from the bounded level of our mind,
Short views we take, nor fee the lengths behind ;
But more advanc'd, behold with strange furprize
New diftant fcenes of endless fcience rife!
Fir'd with the charms fair Science does impart, In fearless youth we tempt the heights of Art. Ver. 223. But more advanc'd, furvey, &c.
So pleas'd at firft the towering Alps we try,
Mount o'er the vales, and seem to tread the sky,
Th' eternal fnows appear already past,
And the first clouds and mountains feem the last:
But, those attain'd, we tremble to furvey
The growing labours of the lengthen'd way,
Th' increasing profpect tires our wandering eyes,
Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise!
A perfect judge will read each work of Wit
With the fame spirit that its author writ:
Survey the WHOLE, nor seek flight faults to find
Where nature moves, and rapture warms the mind;
Nor lofe, for that malignant dull delight,
The generous pleasure to be charm'd with wit.
But, in fuch lays as neither ebb nor flow,
Correctly cold, and regularly low,
That, fhunning faults, one quiet tenour keep;
We cannot blame indeed-but we may sleep.
In wit, as Nature, what affects our hearts
Is not th' exactness of peculiar parts;
'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call,
But the joint force and full refult of all.
Thus when we view fome well-proportion'd dome, (The world's just wonder, and ev'n thine, O Rome!)
So pleas'd at firft the towering Alps to try,
Fill'd with ideas of fair Italy,
The traveller beholds with chearful eyes
The leffening vales, and feems to tread the skies.
No fingle parts unequally furprize,
All comes united to th' admiring eyes;
No monstrous height, or breadth, or length appear;
The Whole at once is bold, and regular.
Whoever thinks a faultlefs piece to fee,
Thinks what ne'er was, nor is, nor e'er shall be.
In every work regard the writer's end,
Since none can compass more than they intend;
And if the means be juft, the conduct true,
Applaufe, in fpite of trivial faults, is due.
As men of breeding, fometimes men of wit,
T'avoid great errors, must the less commit:
Neglect the rules each verbal Critic lays,
For not to know fome trifles, is a praise.
Moft Critics, fond of some subfervient art,
Still make the Whole depend upon a Part:
They talk of principles, but notions prize,
And all to one lov'd folly facrifice.
Once on a time, La Mancha's Knight, they fay,
A certain Bard encountering on the way,
Difcours'd in terms as juft, with looks as fage,
As e'er could Dennis, of the Grecian stage;
Concluding all were defperate fots and fools,
Who durft depart from Aristotle's rules.
Ver. 259. As men of breeding, oft the men of wit. Ver. 265. They talk of principles, but parts they prize. Ver. 270. As e'er could Dennis of the laws o' th' stage. Ver. 272. Ed. i. That durft, &c.
Our Author, happy in a judge so nice,
Produc'd his play, and begg'd the Knight's advice::
Made him obferve the subject, and the plot,
The manners, paffions, unities; what not?
All which, exact to rule, were brought about,
Were but a combat in the lifts left out.
"What! leave the combat out?" exclaims the Knight. Yes, or we must renounce the Stagirite. "Not fo by heaven (he answers in a rage)
"Knights, fquires, and steeds, must enter on the stage."
So vaft a throng the stage can ne'er contain.
"Then build a new, or act it in a plain."
Thus Critics, of lefs judgment than caprice,
Curious, not knowing, not exact but nice,
Form short ideas; and offend in arts
(As most in manners) by a love to parts.
Some to Conceit alone their taste confine,
And glittering thoughts struck out at every line;
Pleas'd with a work where nothing's just or fit;
One glaring Chaos and wild heap of wit.
Poets like painters, thus unskill'd to trace
The naked nature and the living grace,
With gold and jewels cover every part,
And hide with ornaments their want of art.
True Wit is Nature to advantage drefs'd,
What oft was thought, but ne'er fo well exprefs'd;
Something, whofe truth convinc'd at fight we find,
That gives us back the image of our mind.
What oft was thought, but ne'er before exprefs'd.
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