put to it. The first Georgic was probably burlefqed in the author's lifetime; for we ftill find in the fcholiafts a verse that ridicules part of a line tranflated from Hefiod, "Nudus ara, fere nudus"-And we may easily guess at the judgment of this extraordinary critic, whoever he was, from his cenfuring this particular precept. We may be fure Virgil would not have tranflated it from Hefiod, had he not discovered fome beauty in it; and indeed the beauty of it is what I have before obferved to be frequently met with in Virgil, the delivering the precept fo indirectly, and fingling out the particular circumstance of sowing and plowing naked, to fuggeft to us that these employments are proper only in the hot season of the year.

I shall not here compare the style of the Georgics with that of Lucretius, which the reader may see already done in the preface to the fecond volume of Mifcellany Poems; but fhall conclude this Poem to be the most complete, elaborate, and finished piece of all antiquity. The Aneis indeed is of a nobler kind, but the Georgic is more perfect in its kind. The Aneis has a greater variety of beauties în it, but those of the Georgic are more exquifite. In fhort, the Georgic has all the perfection that can be expected in a poem written by the greatest Poet in the flower of his age, when his invention was ready, his imagination warm, his judgment fettled, and all his faculties in their full vigour and maturity.

*The Collection published by Mr. Dryden.

P 2

MIS

MISCELLANEOUS POEM S.

TO SIR GODFREY KNELLE

ON HIS PICTURE OF THE KING.

KNELLER, with filence and furprize.

We fee Britannia's monarch rife,

A godlike form, by thee difplay'd
In all the force of light and fhade;
And, aw'd by thy delufive hand,
As in the presence chamber ftand.
The magic of thy art calls forth
His fecret foul and hidden worth,
His probity and mildnefs fhows,
His care of friends, and fcorn of foes-:
In every ftroke, in every line,
Does fome exalted virtue fhine,
And Albion's happiness we trace
Through all the features of his face.

O may I live to hail the day,
When the glad. nation fhall furvey
Their fovereign, through his wide command,

Paffing in progrefs o'er the land!

Each heart fhall bend, and every voice
In loud applauding fhouts rejoice,
Whilft all his gracious aspect praise,
And crowds grow loyal as they gaze.

5

The

The image on the medal plac'd,

With its bright round of titles grac’d,

And ftampt on British coins fhall live,
To richest ores the value give,
Or, wrought within the curious mold,
Shape and adorn the running gold.
To bear this form, the genial fun
Has daily fince his course begun
Rejoic'd the metal to refine,
And ripen'd the Peruvian mine.

1

Thou, Kneller, long with noble pride,
The foremost of thy art, haft vy'd
With nature in a generous strife,
And touch'd the canvas into life.

Thy pencil has, by monarchs fought,
From reign to reign in ermine wrought,
And, in the robes of state array'd,

The kings of half an age difplay'd.

Here fwarthy Charles appears, and there
His brother with dejected air:
Triumphant Naffau here we find,
And with him bright Maria join'd;
There Anna, great as when she fent
Her armies through the continent,
Ere yet her Hero was difgrac'd :
O may fam'd Brunswick be the last,
(Though heaven should with my wish agree,
And long preserve thy art in thee)
The laft, the happiest British king,
Whom thou shalt paint, or I fhall fing!
P 3

f

Wile

Wife Phidias thus, his skill to prove,
Through many a god advanc'd to Jove,
And taught the polisht rocks to shine
With airs and lineaments divine;
Till Greece, amaz'd, and half-afraid,
Th' affembled deities furvey'd.

Great Pan, who wont to chace the fair,
And lov'd the spreading oak, was there;
Old Saturn too with upcaft eyes
Beheld his abdicated skies;

And mighty Mars, for war renown'd,
In adamantine armour frown'd;
By him the childless goddess rofe,
Minerva, ftudious to compose

Her twisted threads; the web she ftrung,
And o'er a loom of marble hung :
Thetis the troubled ocean's queen,
Match'd with a mortal, next was feen,
Reclining on a funeral urn,

Her fhort-liv'd darling fon to mourn.
The laft was he, whofe thunder flew
The Titan-race, a rebel crew,
That from a hundred hills ally'd
In impious leagues their king defy'd.
This wonder of the sculptor's hand
Produc'd, his art was at a stand :
For who would hope new fame to raise,
Or risk his well-establish'd praise,
That, his high genius to approve,
Had drawn a George, or cary`d a Jove ?

PRO

PROLOGUE

TO SMITH'S PHÆDRA AND HIPPOLITUS.

L

SPOKEN BY Mг. WILKS.

ONG has a race of heroes fill'd the stage,

That rant by note, and through the gamut rage;

In fongs and airs exprefs their martial fire,
Combat in trills, and in a fuge expire:

While, lull'd by found, and undisturb'd by wit,
Calm and ferene you indolently sit,

And, from the dull fatigue of thinking free,
Hear the facetious fiddles repartee:

Our home-spun authors must forfake the field,
And Shakespeare to the foft Scarletti yield.

Το

your new tafte the poet of this day Was by a friend advis'd to form his play; Had Valentini, mufically coy,

Shunn'd Phædra's arms, and fcorn'd the proffer'd joy:

It had not mov'd your wonder to have seen

An eunuch fly from an enamour'd queen :
How would it please, should the in English speak,
And could Hippolitus reply in Greek!

But he, a ftranger to your modish way,

By your old rules must stand or fall to-day,

And hopes you will your foreign taste command,
To bear, for once, with what you understand.