To my dear Friend Mr. Congreve, on bis Comedy, call'd The DoubleDealer.
W ELL then; the promis'd Hour is come at laft
The prefent Age of Wit obfcures the paft:
Strong were our Sires; and as they Fought they Writ,
Conqu❜ring with force of Arms, and dint of Wit;
Theirs was the Giant Race, before the Flood;
And thus, when Charles Return'd, our Empire food
Like Janus he the stubborn Soil manur'd,
With Rules of Husbandry the Rankness cur'd:
Tam'd us to Manners, when the Stage was rude;
And boiftrous English Wit, with Art indu'd.
Our Age was cultivated thus at length;
But what we gain'd in Skill we loft in Strength,
Our Builders were, with want of Genius, curft;
The fecond Temple was not like the first :
Till you, the best Vitruvius, come at length;
Our Beauties equal; but excell our Strength.
Firm Dorique Pillars found your folid Base:
The Fair Corinthian Crowns the higher Space :
Thus all below is Strength, and all above is Grace.
In eafic Dialogue is Fletcher's Praise :
He mov'd the Mind, but had not Power to raise.
Great Johnson did by Strength of Judgment please:
Yet doubling Fletcher's Force, he wants his Ease..
In differing Talents both adorn'd their Age;
One for the Study, t'other for the Stage.
But both to Congreve justly shall submit,
One match'd in Judgment, both o'ermatch'd in Wit,
In him all Beauties of this Age we fee;
Etherege his Courtship, Southern's Purity;
The Satyr, Wit, and Strength of Manly Witcherly.
All this in blooming Youth you have Atchiev'd:
Now are your foil'd Contemporaries griev'd;
So much the Sweetness of your Manners move,
We cannot envy you, because we Love.
Fabius might joy in Scipio, when he faw
A Beardless Consul made against the Law,
And join his Suffrage to the Votes of Rome;
Though He with Hannibal was overcome.
Thus old Romano bow'd to Raphael's Fame;
And Scholar to the Youth he taught, became.
O that your Brows my Lawrel had sustain'd,
Well had I been Depos'd, if you had reign'd!
The Father had defcended for the Son;
For only you are lineal to the Throne.
Thus when the State one Edward did depose;
A Greater Edward in his room arose.
But now, not I, but Poetry is curs'd;
For Tom the fecond reigns like Tom the first.
But let 'em not mistake my Patron's part;
Nor call his Charity their own Defert.
Yet this I Prophecy; Thou shalt be seen,
(Tho' with some short Parenthesis between)
High on the Throne of Wit; and feated there,
Not mine (that's little) but thy Lawrel wear.
Thy firft Attempt an early Promise made;
That early Promise this has more than paid.
So bold, yet fo judiciously you dare,
That your leaft Praise, is to be Regular.
Time, Place, and Action, may with pains be wrought,
But Genius must be born; and never can be taught.
This is your Portion; this your native Store ;
Heav'n that but once was Prodigal before, [more.
To Shakespear gave as much; fhe cou'd not give him
Maintain your Poft: That's all the Fame you need;
For 'tis impoffible you shou'd proceed.
Already I am worn with Cares and Age;
And just abandoning th' Ungrateful Stage:
Unprofitably kept at Heav'ns Expence,
I live a Rent-Charge on his Providence:
But you, whom ev'ry Mufe and Grace adorn,
Whom I foresee to better Fortune born,
Be kind to my Remains; and oh defend,
Against your Judgment, your departed Friend!
Let not th' Insulting Foe my Fame pursue,
But hade thofe Lawrels which defcend to You!
And take for Tribute what these Lines exprefs:
You merit more; nor cou'd my Love do lefs.
To the Earl of Rofcommon, on his excellent Efay on Tranflated Verfe. By the fame Hand.
Hether the fruitful Nile, or Tyrian Shore,
'Tis fure the noble Plant, tranflated first,
Advanc'd its Head in Grecian Gardens nurft.
The Grecians added Verfe, their tuneful Tongue
Made Nature firft, and Nature's God their Song.
Nor ftopt Tranflation here: For conquering Rome
With Grecian Spoils, brought Grecian Numbers home;
Enrich'd by thofe Athenian Mufes more,
Than all the vanquish'd World cou'd yield before.
'Till barb'rous Nations and more barb'rous Times
Debas'd the Majesty of Verse to Rhimes;
Those rude at firft: a kind of hobbling Profe,
That limp'd along, and tinckl'd in the close:
But Italy reviving from the Trance
Of Vandal, Goth, and Monkish Ignorance,
With Paufes, Cadence, and well vowell'd Words,
And all the Graces a good Ear affords,
Made Rhyme an Art, and Dante's polish'd Page
Reftor'da Silver, not a Golden Age:
Then Petrarch follow'd, and in him we fee,
What Rhyme improv'd in all its height can be:
At beft a pleafing Sound, and fair Barbarity:
The French purfu'd their Steps; and Britain, laft
In manly Sweetness all the reft surpass'd.
The Wit of Greece, the Gravity of Rome
Appear exalted in the British Loom;
The Mufes Empire is restor'd again,
In Charles his Reign, and by Roscommon's Pen.
Yet modeftly he does his Work furvey,
And calls a finish'd Poem an ES SAT;
For all the needful Rules are fcatter'd here;
Truth smoothly told, and pleasantly severe;
(So well is Art difguis'd, for Nature to appear.)
Nor need thofe Rules, to give Translation light :
His own Example is a Flame fo bright;
That he, who but arrives to copy well,
Unguided will advance; unknowing will excel.
Scarce his own Horace cou'd fuch Rules ordain;
Or his own Virgil fing a nobler Strain.
How much in him may rifing Ireland boast,
How much in gaining him has Britain loft!
Their Ifland in revenge has ours reclaim'd,
The more inftru&ted we, the more we ftill are sham'd.
'Tis well for us his generous Flood did flow
Deriv'd from British Channels long ago,
That here his conquering Ancestors were nurft;
And Ireland but tranflated England first:
By this Reprifal we regain our right,
Elfe muft the two contending Nations fight,
A nobler Quarrel for his Native Earth,
Than what divided Greece for Homer's Birth.
To what Perfection will our Tongue arrive,
How will Invention and Tranflation thrive,
When Authors nobly born will bear their part,
And not difdain th' inglorious Praife of Art!
Great Generals thus defcending from Command,
With their own Toil provoke the Soldiers Hand.
How will sweet Ovid's Ghost be pleas'd to hear
His Fame augmented by an English Peer,
How he embellishes His Helen's Loves,
Out-does his Softnefs, and his Senfe improves ?
When thefe tranflate, and teach Tranflators too,
Nor Firstling Kid, nor any vulgar Vow
Shou'd at Apollo's grateful Altar ftand;
Rofcommon writes, to that aufpicious Hand,
Mufe feed the Bull that fpurns the yellow Sand.
Rofcommon, whom both Court and Camps commend,
True to his Prince, and faithful to his Friend;
Rofcommon firft in Fields of Honour known,
First in the peaceful Triumphs of the Gown;
Who both Minerva's justly makes his own.
Now let the few belov'd by Jove, and they,
Whom infus'd Titan form'd of better Clay,
On equal Terms with ancient Wit ingage,
Nor mighty Homer fear, nor facred Virgil's Page:
Our English Palace opens wide in State;
And without ftooping they may pass the Gate.
To A. L. Perfwafions to Love.
By THO. CAREW, Efq;
"Hink not, 'caufe Men flatt'ring fay
Y'are fresh as April, fweet as May,
Bright as is the Morning-ftar,
That you are fo; or though you arç,
Be not therefore proud, and deem
All Men unworthy your Efteem:
For being fo, you lofe the Pleasure
Of being fair, fince that rich Treasure
Of rare Beauty and fweet Feature,
Was beftow'd on you by Nature
To be enjoy'd, and 'twere a Sin
There to be scarce, where he hath been
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