Nature unable longer to fuftain,

Would fink opprefs'd with joy to endless rest.

Let none henceforth of Providence complain,
As if the world of fpirits day unknown,
Fenc'd round with black impenetrable night;
What though no fhining angel darts from thence
With leave to publish things conceal'd from sense,
In language bright as theirs, we are here told,
When life its narrow round of years hath roll'd,
What 'tis employs the bless'd, what makes their bliss;
Songs fuch as Watts's are, and love like his.

But then, dear Sir, be cautious how you use,
To tranfports fo intenfely rais'd your Mufe,
Left, whilft th' ecftatic impulse you obey,
The foul leap out, and drop the duller clay.
Sept. 4, 1706.

HENRY GROVE.

To Dr. WAT Ts, on the fifth Edition of his

S

Hora Lyrica.

Overeign of facred verfe; accept the lays

Of a young bard that dares attempt thy praise.
A Mule, the meanest of the vocal throng,
New to the bays, nor equal to the fong.
Fir'd with the growing glories of thy fame,
Joins all her powers to celebrate thy name.
No vulgar themes thy pious Mufe engage,
cenes of luft pollute thy facred page.

You

You in majeftic numbers mount the skies,
And meet defcending angels as you rife,
Whose just applauses charm the crouted groves,
And Addison thy tuneful fong approves.
Soft harmony and manly vigour join
To form the beauties of each sprightly line,
For every grace of every Mufe is thine.
Milton, immortal bard, divinely bright,
Conducts his favourite to the realms of light;
Where Raphael's lyre charms the celestial throng,
Delighted cherubs liftening to the fong
From blifs to blifs the happy beings rove,
And taste the fweets of mufic and of love.
But when the fofter fcenes of life you paint,
And join the beauteous virgin to the faint,
When you defcribe how few the happy pairs,
Whose hearts untied foften all their cares,
We fee to whom the sweeteft joys belong,
And Myra's beauties confecrate your song.
Fain the unnumber'd graces I would tell,
And on the pleafing theme for ever dwell;
But the Mufe faints, unequal to the flight,
And hears thy strains with wonder and delight.
When tombs of princes shall in ruins lie,
And all but Heaven-born piety shall die,
When the last trumpet wakes the filent dead,
And each lafcivious poet hides his head,

With thee fhall thy divine Urania rise,
Crown'd with fresh laurels, to thy native kies:

}

Great

Great How and Gouge shall hail thee on thy way,
And welcome thee to the bright realms of day,
Adapt thy tuneful notes to heavenly strings,
And join the Lyric Ode while fome fair feraph fings..
Sic fpirat, fic optat,

Tui amantiffimus

BRITANNICUS.

PRE

C

PREFACE.

IT

T has been a long complaint of the virtuous and refined world, that poefy, whofe origina! is divine, fhould be enflaved to vice and profaneness; that an art, infpired from heaven, fhould have fo far loft the memory of its birth-place, as to be engaged in the interefts of hell. How unhappily is it perverted from its most glorious defign! How bafely has it been driven away from its proper ftation in the temple of God, and abufed to much difhonour! The iniquity of men has conftrained it to ferve their vile purposes, while the fons of piety mourn the facrilege and the fhame.

The eldest fong, which history has brought down to our ears, was a noble act of worship paid to the God of Ifrael, when his "right hand became glorious in "power; when thy right hand, O Lord, dashed in "pieces the enemy: the chariots of Pharaoh and his

hofts were caft into the red fea. Thou didst blow with thy wind, the deep-covered them, and they fank as lead in the mighty waters." Exod. xv. This art was maintained sacred through the following ages of the church, and employed by kings and prophets, by · David, Solomon, and Isaiah, in defcribing the nature and the glories of God, and in conveying grace or vengeance to the hearts of men. By this method they brought fo much of heaven down to this lower world,

as the darkness of that dispensation would admit: And now and then a divine and poetic rapture lifted their fouls far above the level of that œconomy of fhadows, bore them away far into a brighter region, and gave them a glimpse of evangelic day. The life of angels was harmoniously breathed into the children of Alam, and their minds raifed near to heaven in melody and devotion at once.

In the younger days of heathenifm the Mufes were devoted to the fame service: the language in which old Hefiod addreffes them is this:

Μᾶσαι Πιερίηθεν αοιδῆσε κλείουσαι,

Δεῦτε, Δῖ ἐννέπετε σφέτερον πατέρ' ὑμνείουσ

« Pierian Mufes, fam'd for heavenly lays,

"Defcend, and fing the God your Father's praise."

And he pursues the subject in ten pious lines, which I could not bear to tranfcribe, if the aspect and found of fo much Greek were not terrifying to a nice reader.

But fome of the latter Poets of the Pagan world have debased this divine gift; and many of the writers of the first rank, in this our age of national Christians, have, to their eternal fhame, furpaffed the vileft of the Gentiles. They have not only disrobed religion of all the ornaments of verfe, but have employed their pens in impious mifchief, to deform her native beauty and de-file her honours. They have expofed her most facred character to drollery, and dreffed her up in a most vile and ridiculous disguise, for the fcorn of the ruder herd of mankind. The vices have been painted like fo many