So powerful is the Muse! When David plaid, The Frantick Dæmon heard him, and obey'd. No Noise, no Hiss: the dumb Apostate lay Sunk in soft silence, and dissolv'd away. Nor was this Miracle of Verse confin'dOrpheus. To Jews alone: For in a Heathen mind Some strokes appear: Thus Orpheus was inspir'd, Inchanting Syrens at his Song retir'd. To Rocks and Seas he the curst Maids pursu'd, And their strong Charms, by stronger Charms subdu'd.Homer.

Orpheus.

Homer.

    But Greece was honour'd with a Greater Name, Homer is Greece's Glory and her Shame. How could Learn'd Athens with contempt refuse, Th' immortal labours of so vast a Muse? Thee, Colophon, his angry Ghost upbraids, While his loud Numbers charm th' Infernal Shades. Ungrateful Cities! Which could vainly strive For the Dead Homer, whom they scorn'd Alive. So strangely wretched is the Poet's Doom! To Wither here, and Flourish in the Tomb.

    Tho' Virgil rising under happier Stars, Saw Rome succeed in Learning as in Wars. When Pollio, like a smiling Planet, shone, And Cæsar darted on him, like the Sun. Nor did Mecænas, gain a less repute, When Tuneful Flaccus touch'd the Roman Lute.

    But when, Mecænas, will Thy Star appear In our low Orb, and gild the British Sphere? Say, art Thou come, and, to deceive our Eyes Dissembled under DORSET's fair Disguise? If so; go on, Great Sackvile, to regard The Poet, and th'imploring Muse reward. So to Thy Fame a Pyramid shall rise, Nor shall the Poet fix thee in the Skies. For if a Verse Eternity can claim, Thy Own are able to preserve thy Name. This Province all is Thine, o'er which in vain Octavius hover'd long, and sought to Reign. This Sun prevail'd upon his Eagle's sight, Glar'd in their Royal Eyes, and stop'd their flight. Let him his Title to such Glory bring, You give as freely, and more nobly sing. Reason will judge, when both their Claims produce, He shall his Empire boast, and Thou the Muse. Horace and He are in Thy Nature joyn'd, The Patron's Bounty with the Poet's Mind.

    O Light of England, and her highest Grace! Thou best and greatest of thy Ancient Race! Descend, when I invoke thy Name, to shine   (For 'tis thy Praise) on each unworthy Line, While to the World, unprejudic'd, I tell The noblest Poets, and who most excel. Thee with the Foremost thro' the Globe I send, Far as the British Arms or Memory extend.

  But 'twould be vain, and tedious, to reherse The 

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