Occafioned by Mr Rowe's LIVES being tranflated into French by the learned Abbe Bellenger, and published at Paris and Amfterdam with Monfieur Dacier's tranflation of Plutarch.
Nunquam ego, te vita, frater amabilior,
Afpiciam pofthac! at certe femper amabo,
Semper moella tua carmina niorte legam.
O FRIEND! O Brother! can thy dear-lov'd namie
Rife to my view, nor pious forrow claim?
O early fled to thy congenial fkies,
E'er I could know thy matchlefs worth to prize!
Now ripen'd judgment gives that worth to see,
And next a father loft, I mourn for thee;
For thee whose friendship had that lofs supply'd,
In youth my guardian, and in age my guide.
Thy voice had taught to bend my stubborn will,
Lur'd me to good, and warn'd my wish from ill.
While Virtue, in thy life to fight confest,
With heav'nly charms had vanquish'd all my breast,
With borrow'd vigour I had learn'd to tread
The path fhe points, by thy example led:
Now, my guide loft, I trace the arduous way
With feeble ftep, and scarce forbear to stray.
O Friend! O Brother!--but why thus again
Will these dear names my tortur'd mem'ry pain?
For Friendship's wild complaints, or Nature's cries,
Ah! what avail'd with ftudious toil t' explore
What ancient fcience taught, or modern lore,
Since not the treafur'd ftores of wifdom fave
The laurel'd head from the devouring grave!
Yet if, bleft fpirit, minds celeftial know
To joy at honours paid their names below,
Hear Philomela's ftrains rehearse thy praise,
While ev'ry mufe infpires the moving lays:
Lays that fhall last, while virtue boasts to warm
The gen'rous breaft, or facred verfe can charm:
And fee thy works thro' foreign nations known,
France marks their worth, and makes thy lives her own:
And conscious of their right to equal fame,
The rival volume joins with Plutarch's name.
HORACE, BOOK I. ODE III. IMITATED.
CLIO, heav'n-born muse, what happy man,
Or god like hero, fhall thy well-tun'd harp,
Or pipe fhrill-founding celebrate? Or if
A loftier theme delight thee, fay what God
Shall Echo, pleafing babler, taught by thee,
Sing in the fhades of Helicon, or Pind',
Or Hæmus' facred mount? where Orpheus, skill'a
In arts maternal, lift'ning rivers stopt
In their swift courses, lull'd the winds to filence,
And inade the ftubborn oaks attentive move
To aukward dances their unwieldy limbs.
Where better can the pious mufe begin,
Than with the univerfal Father's praise?
Who rules the pow'rs above, and men below,
The earth's wide plains, the fea's unbounded waves,
And laws to all the vast creation gives,
With undisputed fway; himself fecure
Of own'd pre eminence; nor equal knows,
Nor aught that may deserve a second place.
Yet Pallas next our adoration claims;
Immortal maid, in arts and arms fupreme:
Bacchus, the foft amufer of our cares,
With India's conqueft proud: Diana, foe
To beafts untam'd: Apollo, tuneful God;
By potent herbs, and villains certain death
By never-erring darts, command our lays.
Not ever fhall the grateful mufe forget
Alcides, matchlefs hero; nor the Twins,
Whom Leda bore to Jove: this skill'd to tame-
The fiery courfer, this in fight untam'd;
Both by the mariners rever'd: for foon
As their aufpicious star adorns the skies,
The foaming waters trickle from the rocks,
The winds retire in whifpers; blackest clouds,
That erft portended ftorins, divide, and leave
A pleafing day, and ev'ry threat'ning wave
(So will the Gods! fo unrefifted fate!)
Sinks to a calm, and fleeps upon the feas.
What next forbids to fing Britannia's chiefs,
In war and peace illuftrious? Brutus firft,
Sire of the nation; Egbert, pow'rful prince,
Source of a thoufand kings. Normania's duke,
An cafy, and a rightful conqueror
Of realms his own; or fhall I thofe record,
Who born beneath a throne, to diftant climes
Extended Britain's Glory, and their own?
Talbot, a name ftill dreaded by the Gaul:
Warwick, fure punifher of perjur d kings,
Who play'd with crowns, and tofs'd the gilded trifles
To whom he pleas'd, defpifing them, as fat
Beneath his own acceptance. Dev'reux, long
By great Eliza favour'd, loft at laft
By wiles of flatefmen, and heroic crimes.
Who can enough, or Vere, or Ca'ndifh praise?
Or Drake, Iberia's fcourge? him poverty
Paternal, and a youth inur'd to hardships,
Fitted for vaft exploits, and taught to gain,
By merit, honours fortune had deny'd.
Thro' ev'ry age the Ruffels' patriot race
Rifes in fame. The bright Naflovian far
Shines with transcendent fplendor, and excels All leffer lights, as Phœbe thofe of heav'n.
Father and Guardian of the human race,
Offspring of Saturn, who by fate's decree
Disposest Anna's destiny; preserve
Thy precious charge, extend her glorious sway.
May he acknowledge thee alone superior,
Nor have on earth an equal: if she drives
From her realm's limits the invading Gaul,
Or on the hostile land due vengeance takes,
Haughty in well-got fpoils; ftill under thee
May the in mildness happy nations rule.
Do thou Olympus with thy chariot shake;
Then justly on thy foes and ours, incens'd,
Dart forked lightning, make destruction cease,
And blefs the finking world with lasting peace.
TIBULLUS, BOOK I. ELEGY iii.
WHILE you, Meffala, with your warlike train,
In haughty triumph plow the fubject main,
Me my hard fate in realms unknown detains,
Thro' all my frame a dire diftemper reigns,
And very hardly life itself remains.
O could my prayers obtain a fhort reprieve!
Would the grim tyrant a kind respite give!
I have no mother here to close my eyes,
And grace with pious tears my obfequies;
No fifter, who in loose, difhevel'd hair,
And all the pomp of defolate defpair,
Should fhed rich fpices at my fepulchre :
Nor Delia's there, whofe prefence could create
Health and new life, each raging pain abate,
|