tumi alle volte troppo civili, ed innalzo sopra la semplicita pastorale lo stile, trattenendosi troppo sul generale onde quantò nella Georgica si lasciò addietro Esiodo, tanto nell' Egloghe cede a Teocrito, da cui raccolse i fiori: e nel poema eroico, siccome riman vinto da Omero cosi e ad ogn' altro superiore.*

15. Four swans sustain'd a car of silver bright,

With heads advanc'd, and pinions stretch'd for flight:
Here, like some furious prophet, Pindar rode,
And seem'd to labour with th' inspiring God.
Across the harp a careless hand he flings,
And boldly sinks into the sounding strings.†

The character of Pindar, as commonly taken, seems not to be well understood. We hear of nothing but the impetuosity and the sublimity of his manner; whereas he abounds in strokes of domestic tenderness. We are perpetually told

* Gravina della Ragion poetica. In Napoli 1716. p. 308.

of

POPE, speaking to Mr. Spence concerning absurd comparisons, mentioned, as such, the comparing Homer with Virgil, Corneille with Racine, the little ivory statue of Polyclete with the Colossus. "These (he added) are magis pares quam

similes."

+ Ver. 210.

of the boldness and violence of his transitions ; whereas, on a close inspection, they appear easy and natural, are closely connected with, and arise appositely from, his subject. Even his stile has been represented as swelling and bombast; but carefully examined, it will appear far more pure and perspicuous than is generally imagined; not abounding with those harsh metaphors, and that profusion of florid epithets, which some of his imitators affect to use. One of Pindar's arts, in which they frequently fail who copy him, is the introduction of many moral reflections. Mr. Gray seems thoroughly to have studied this writer. The following beautiful lines are closely translated from the first Pythian Ode. They describe the Power of music :

*

Oh, sovereign of the willing soul,
Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs,
Enchanting shell the sullen cares,

And frantic passions, hear thy soft controul.

* Cui illud peculiare est (says Bacon finely) animos hominum, inopinatò, sententiolâ aliquâ mirabili, veluti Virgulâ divinâ percutere.

De Augmentis. Scient. Lib. 8.

On Thracia's hills the lord of war
Has curb'd the fury of his car,

And dropp'd his thirsty lance at thy command.
Perching on the sceptred hand

Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather'd king,
With ruffled plumes, and flagging wing:
Quench'd in dark clouds of slumber lie

The terror of his beak, and lightning of his eye.*

The reader will, doubtless, be pleased to see these striking images copied by another masterly hand :

With slacken'd wings,

While now the solemn concert breathes around,
Incumbent o'er the sceptre of his lord

Sleeps the stern eagle; by the number'd notes
Possess'd, and satiate with the melting tone;

Sovereign of birds. The furious God of war,
His darts forgetting, and the rapid wheels
That bear him vengeful o'er the embattled plains,
Relents.+-

It is to be observed, that both these imitators have omitted a natural circumstance, very expressive of the strong feeling of the eagle;

but

* Dodsley's Collection, vol. VI. p. 322.

† Ibid. vol. VI. p. 13. HYMN to the Naiads, by Dr. Akenside

but very difficult to be translated with becoming

elegance.

Ο δε κνώσσων

Υγρον νωτον αειρεί, τεαις

Ριπαισι κατασχομενος,

May I venture to add, that this ode of Mr. Gray ends a little unhappily? That is, with an antithesis unsuited to the dignity of such a composition:

Bb 3

Beneath

* Pindar, Pyth. I. Antistrophe i. v. 5.

This image puts me in mind of a fine stroke in Apollonius Rhodius, who thus describes the effects of Medea's enchant, ments on the dragon who watch'd the golden fleece:

Few moderns have boldness enough to enter on circumstances so MINUTELY NATURAL, and therefore highly expressive; they are afraid of being thought vulgar and flat. Apollonius has more merit than is usually allowed him, and deserves more consideration among the learned the whole behaviour and passion of Medea is movingly described. He particularly abounds in such lively and delicate strokes as that quoted above,

Beneath the Good how far, but far above the Great.

It may be also questioned, whether his other ode might not have been better concluded without mentioning the manner in which the bard died. There would have been a beautiful abruptness in finishing with

Be thine despair, and sceptred care:
To triumph and to die are mine.

The mind would have been left in a pleasing and artful suspense, at not knowing what became of so favourite a character. Lyric poetry, especially, should not be minutely historical. When Juno had ended her speech in Horace with that spirited stanza,

Ter si resurgat murus aheneus
Auctore Phobo, ter pereat meis
Excisus Argivis, ter uxor

Capta, virum, puerosque ploret,

what follows surely weakens the conclusion of this ode, and is comparatively flat:

Non