requir'd long toil, perform with ease. By inborn strength so Theseus bent the Pine, Which cost the Robber many Years Design[*].

Shakespear.

* See Plutarch's Life of Theseus.

    Tho' sometimes rude, unpolish'd and undrest His Sentence flows, more careless than the rest. Yet, when his Muse, complying with his will, Deigns with informing heat his Breast to fill, Then hear him thunder in the Pompous strain Of Æschylus, or sooth in Ovid's vein. I feel a Pity working in my Eyes, When Desdemona by Othello dyes. When I view Brutus in his Dress appear; I know not how to call him too severe. His rigid Vertue there attories for all, And makes a Sacrifice of Cæsar's Fall.

    Nature work'd Wonders then; when Shakespear dy'd Cowley.* Ovid was born the same year in which Cicero dy'd.Her Cowley rose, drest in her gaudy Pride. So from great Ruins a new Life she calls, And Builds an Ovid[*] when a Tully Falls.

Cowley.

* Ovid was born the same year in which Cicero dy'd.

    With what Delight he tunes his Silver-Strings, And David's Toils in David's numbers Sings? Hark! how he Murmurs to the Fields and Groves, His rural Pleasures, and his various Loves, Yet every Line so Innocent and Clear, Hermits may read them to a Virgin's Ear. Unstoln Promethean Fire informs his Song, Rich is his Fancy, his Invention strong. His Wit, unfathom'd, has a fresh Supply, Is always flowing-out, but never Dry.

  Sure the profuseness of a boundless Thought, Unjustly is imputed for a Fault. A Spirit, that is unconfin'd and free, Should hurry forward, like the Wind or Sea. Which laughs at Laws and Shackles, when a Vain Presuming Xerxes shall pretend to Reign, And on the flitting Air impose his pond'rous Chain.

    Hail English Swan? for You alone could dare With well-pois'd Pinions tempt th' unbounded Air:   And to your Lute Pindaric Numbers call, Nor fear the Danger of a threatned Fall. O had You liv'd to Waller's Reverend Age, Better'd your Measures, and reform'd your Page! Then Britain's Isle might raise her Trophies high, And Solid Rome, or Witty Greece outvy. The Rhine, the Tyber, and Parisian Sein, When e're they pay their Tribute to the Main, Should no sweet Song more willingly rehearse, Than gentle Cowley's never-dying Verse. The Thames should sweep his briny way before, And with 

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