Deck'd in thy verfe, as clad with rays they shine,
All glorified, iminortal, and divine.
As Britain in rich foil al ounding wide,
Furnish'd for use, for luxury, and pride,
Yet fpreads her wanton fails on every shore
For foreign wealth, infatiate fill of more;
To her own wool the filks of Afia joins,
And to her plenteous harvests India's mines;
So Dryden, not contented with the fame
Of his own works, though an immortal rame,
To lands remote fends forth his learned mufe,
The nobleft feeds of foreign wit to choose:
Feafting our fenfe fo many various ways,
Say, is't thy bounty, or thy thirst of praife?
That, by comparing others, all might fee
Who most excel, are yet excell'd by thee.

TO MR. DRYDEN,

BY

JOSEPH ADDISON, Esq.

OW long, great poet, fhall thy facred lays
Provoke our wonder and tranfcend our praife!

Can neither injuries of time, or age,

Damp thy poetic heat and quench thy rage?
Not fo thy Ovid in his exile wrote;

Grief chill'd his breaft, and check'd his rifing thought;
Penfive and fad, his drooping muse betrays
The Roman genius in its laft decays.

Prevailing warmth has still thy mind poffeft,
And second youth is kindled in thy breast.
Thou mak'ft the beauties of the Romans krown,
And England Hoafts of riches rot her own:
Thy lines have heighten'd Virgil's majesty,
And Horace wonders at himself in thee.
Thou teacheft Perfus to inform our inle
In fmçother numbers, and a clearcr ftyle:
And Juvenal, inftructed in thy page,
Edges his fatire, and improves his rage.
Thy copy cafts a fairer light on all,
And still outfhines the bright original.

Now Ovid boasts th' advantage of thy song,
And tells his ftory in the British tongue;
Thy charming verfe and fair tranflations fhew
How thy own laurel first began to grow;
How wild Lycaon, chang'd by angry Gods,
And frighted at himself, ran howling thro' the woods.
O may'st thou still the roble tale prolong,
Nor age, nor fickness Interrupt thy song:
Then may we wondering read, how human limbs
Have water'd kingdoms, and diffolv'd in streams,
Of thofe rich fruits that on the fertile mould
Turn'd yellow by deg ees, and ripen'd into gold;
How fome in feathers, or a ragged hide
Have liv'd a fecond life, and different natures try'd.
Then will thy Ovid, thus transform'd, reveal
A nobler change than he himself can tell,

7ROM

ADDISON'S ACCOUNT

OF THE

ENGLISH POET S.

OUT fee where artful Dryden next appears,

Brown oldin rhyme, Put charming ev n in years.

Great Dryden next! whofe tuneful mufe affords
The sweetest numbers and the fitteft words.
Whether in comic fourds, or tragic airs,

She forms her voice, the moves our smiles and tears.
If fatire or hero.c ftrains fhe writes,

Her hero pleafes, and her fatire hites.
From her no hash unartful numbers fall,

She wears all dreffes, and fhe charms in all :
How might we fear our English poetry,
That long has flourish'd, fhould decay in thee:
Did not the Mufes' other hope appear,
Harmonious Congreve, and to:bid our fear!
Congreve! whole fancy's unexhaufted itore
Has given already much, and promis'd more.
Congreve fhall fill preferve thy fame alive,
And Dryden's Mufe fall in his friend furvive.

FROM MR POPE'S ESSAY ON CRITICISM, 1. 376.

EAR how Timotheus' vary'd lays furprize,

Hand bid alternate paff ons fall and rife!

While, at each change, the fon of Lybian Jove
Now burns with glory, and then melts with love;
Now his fierce eyes with sparkling fury glow,
Now fighs fteai out, and tears begin to flow.
Perfiars and Greeks like turns of nature found
And the world's vi&or flood subdued by found,
The power of Mufic all our hearts allow,
And what Timotheus was is Dryden now.

CHARACTER OF DRYDEN,

BER

FROM AN ODE OF GRAY.

EHOLD, where Dryden's lefs prefumptuous car,
Wide o'er the fields of glory bear

Tour there is vast, your verfe divinely good: Whole lig for whore dear fake they drank a flood

TO TML

AND OF

ON HIS

Such gererous grace, th' ungrateful tribe abuse, | Firm, as fair Albion, midnt the ragine man,
And trespar: on the mercy of his Muse:

Surveys incircling danger with disdain.
Their wretched doggrel rhymers forth they bring, In vain the waves alsault the unmov'd More,
To snarl and bark against the poets' king;

7

In vain the winds with mingled fury roar, A crow, that fcandalize the nation more,

Fair Albion's beautious chifts thine whiter than Than all their treason-canting prieits before.

before. On these he scarce vouchsafes a scornful finile, Nor shalt thou move, though he'l thy fall conspire, But their powerful patrons turns his style: Though the worse rare of zeal's fanatic fire; A style so keen, as ev'n from faction draws Thou beit, thou greatest of the British race, The vital poison, Rahs to th' heart their cause. Thou only fit to fill great Charles's pace. Take then, great Bard, what tribute we can raise ; Ah, wretched Britons ! ali, too stubborn ine! Accept our thanks, for you transcend our praise. Ah, Itift-neck'd Israel on blest Canaan's foil !

N, TATE. Are those dear proofs of heaven's induigence vain,

Restoring David and his genóle reign ?
Is it in vain thou all the goods dont know,
Aufpic.ous stars on mortals shed below,
While all thy ftreams with milk, thy lands with

honey flow?

No more, sond isle! ro more thyself engage UNKNOWN AUTHOR THE MEDAL ; In civil fury, and intestine rage :

No rebel zeal thy du teous land molest, ABSALOM AND ACHITOPHEL,

But a l'mooth calm soothe every peaceful breast

While in fuch charming notes divirely fings

The best of poets, of the best of kings. "HUS pious ignorance, with dubious praise,

J. Adam,
They knew not the lov'd deity; they knew
Divine effects a caure divine did thew;
Nor can we doubt when such these numbers are,
Such is their cause, though the worst Musc thall
dare

To Mr. P R Y DEN,
Their sacred worth in humble verse declare.
As gentle Thames, charm'd with thy tuncful song,

RELIGIO L AICI.
Glides in a peaceiul majetty along ;
No rebel fone, no lofty bank, does brave
The eary passage of his fient wave:

THOSE Cols the pious ancients did a ore, So, sacred poet, so thy numbers fow, Sinewy, yet mild as happy lovers wooe ;

Thinking it rude to use the common way Strong, yet harmonious too as planets inove, Of talk, wher, they did to such beings pray. Yet fost as down upon the wings of love.

Nay, they that taught religion first, thought fif
How sweet does virtue in your dress appear ; In verse its sacred precepts to transmit:
How much more charming, when much less severe ! :o Solon too did liis firit Natutes'draw,
Whilft you our senses harmlessly beguile,

And every little stanza was a law.
With all th' allurements of your happy Ityle ; By thesc few precedents we plainly fee
Y'infinuare loyalty with kind deceit,

The primitive design of poetry;
And into sense th’unthinking many cheat. Which, by reso ing to its native use,
So the sweet Thracian with his charming ivre You generously have rescued from abure.
Into rude nature virtue did inspire;

Whilft your lov'd Muse coes in sweet numbers fing, So he the favage herd to reason drew,

She vindicates her Cod, and godlike king. Yet scarce so I veet, so charmingly as you

Atheist, and rehel too, he does oppose
O that you would, with some fuch powerful charm, God and the king have always the same foes).
Enervate Albion to jut valour warm!

Legions of verfe you raise in their defence,
Whether much-sufiering Charles Mall theme afford, And write the fac vus to obedierce;
Or the great deeds of godlike James's sword, You the hold Arian to Arms defy,
Again fair Gallia might be ours, again

A conquering champion for the Deity
Another fiect might pass the subject main, Againit the Whigs first parents, who did dare
Another Edward lead the Britons on,

To disinherit God-Almighty's heir.
Or such an Offory as you did moan;

And what the hot-brain d Arian îrst began,
While in such numbers you, in such a strain, Is carried on by the Socinian,
Inflame their courage and reward their pain, Who ftill associates to keep God a man.
Let falfe Achitophel the rout engage,

But 'tis the prince of poets' talk alone
Talk eafy Absalom to rebel rage ;

T'allert the rights of God's and Charles's throne. Let frugal Shimei curse in holy zeal,

Whilft vulgar poets purchase vulgar fame Or modest Corah more new plots reveal;

By chaunting Chloris' or fair Phyllis' name; Whilft conftant to himself, secure of fate,

Whose reputation shall last as long, Cood David ftill maintains the royal state. As faps and ladies sing the amorous song. Though each in vain such various ills employs, A nobler subject wisely they refuse, Birinly he stands, and ev’n those ills enjoys; The mighty weight would crush their feeble Mura

III.

So, Nory tells, a painter once would try

But first takes time with majesty to rife, With his told hand to limn a deity :

Then, without pride, divinely great, And he, by frequent practising that part,

She mounts her native 1kies ; Could draw a minor-god with wondrous art :

And, Goddess like, retains lier itate But when great Jove did to the workman tit,

When down again the dies. The thur.derer such horror did beget,

Commands, which judgment gives, she still obeys, That put the fnghted artist to a 1tand,

Both to depress her flight, and raise. And made his pencil drop from 's baffled hand. Thus Mercury froin htaven descends,

And to this under world his journey bends,

When Jove his dread commands has given :

But still, descending, dignity maintains,
TO MR. DRYDEN, UPON HIS TRANSLATION OF As much a God upon our humble plains,
THL THIRD BOOK OF VIRGIL'S GEORGICS.

As when he, towering, reafcends to heaven.
A PINDARICK ODE.

But when thy Goddess takes her flight,
BY MR. JOHN DENNIS.

With so much majesty to such a height,

As can alone suffice to prove, CHILE mounting with expanded wings

That the descends from mighty Jove :

Gods! how thy thoughts then rise, and soar, and plores,

Thine! While with seraphic founds he towering sings,

Immortal spirit animates each line ; Till to divinity he foars :

Each with bright Aaine that fires our soule is crown'da Mankind stands wondering at his fight,

Each has magnificence of sound, Charm'd with his music, and his height :

And harmony divine. Which both tranfcend our praife,

Thus the first orbs, in their high rounds, Nay Gods incline their ravish'd cars,

With shining poinp advance; And tune their own harmonious spheres,

And to their own coleftial sounds To bis melodious lays.

Majestically dance, Thou, Dryden, canit his notes recite

On, with eternal symphony, they roll, In modern numbers, which express

Each turn'd in its harmonious course Their music, and their utmost might:

And each inform'd by the prodigious force Thou, wondrous poet, with success

Of an empyreal soul. Canít emulate his night.

en ex

See a Poem by Dort, in this work

2

Sometimes of humble rural things,
Thy Muse, which keeps great Maro still in sight,
in middle air with varied numbers sings ;

And sometimes her sonorous flight
To heaven sublimely wings.

DRYDEN'S ORIGINAL POEMS

UPON.

THE DEATH OF LORD HASTINGS,

TUST noble Hastings immaturely die,
Beauty and learning thus together meet,
To bring a winding for a wedding sheet?
Muft virtue prove death's harbinger? muft she,
With him expiring, feel mortality?
Is death, fin's wages, grace's now? thall art
Make us more learned, only to depart ?
If merit be disease; if virtue death;
To be good, not to be; who'd then bequeath
Himself to discipline : 'who'd not esteem
Labour a crime? study felf-murther deem?

Our noble youth nov lave pretence to be
Dunces securely, ignorant healthfully:
Rare linguist, whose worth speaks itself, whose prate
Though not his own, all tongues befides do raise :
Than whom great Alexander may seem less ;
Who conquer'd men, but not their languages.
In his mouth nations spake ; his tongue might be
Interpreter to Greece, France, Italy.
His native soil was the four parts o'th' earth;
All Europe was too narrow for his birth.

A young apostle; and with reverence may
I speak it, inspir'd with gift of tongues, as they.'
Nature gave him a child, what men in vain
Oft strive, by art, though further'd, to obtain.

His body was an orb, his sublime soul
Did move on virtue's, and on learning's pole: