Firft follow Nature, and your judgment frame
By her juft ftandard, which is still the fame":
Unerring Nature, ftill divinely bright,
One clear, unchang'd, and universal light,
Life, force, and beauty, muft to all impart,
At once the fource, and end, and teft of art.
Art from that fund each juft fupply provides,
Works without fhow, and without pomp prefides:
In fome fair body thus th' informing foul
With fpirits feeds, with vigour fills the whole,
Each motion guides, and ev'ry nerve sustains
Itself unfeen, but in th' effects, remains.
Tho' meant each other's aid, like man and wife.
There are whom heav'n has bleft with ftore of wit,
Yet want as much again to manage it;
For wit and judgment ever are at ftrife,
'Tis more to guide than spur the Mufe's fteed;
Restrain his fury, than provoke his speed;
The winged courfer, like a gen'rous horse,
Shows most true mettle when you check his course.
Thofe Rules of old discover'd, not devis'd,
Are nature ftill, but nature methodiz'd;
Nature, like Liberty, is but restrain'd
By the fame laws which firft herself ordain'd.
Hear how learn'd Greece her useful rules indites,
When to reprefs, and when indulge our flights!
High on Parnaffus' top her sons she show'd,
And pointed out those arduous paths they trod,
Held from afar, aloft, th' immortal prize,
And urg'd the reft by equal fteps to rife.
Juft precepts thus from great examples giv❜n,
She drew from them what they deriv'd from heav'n.
The gen'rous Critic fann'd the Poet's fire,
And taught the world with reafon to admire.
Then Criticifm the Mufes handmaid prov'd,
To drefs her charms, and make her more belov'd::
But following wits from that intention stray'd,
Who could not win the miftrefs, woo'd the maid;
Against the Poets their own arms they turn'd,
Sure to hate moft the men from whom they learn'd.
So modern 'Pothecaries, taught the art
By Doctor's bills to play the Doctor's part,
Bold in the practice of mistaken rules,
Prescribe, apply, and call their masters fools.
Some on the leaves of ancient authors prey,
Nor time nor moths e'er fpoil'd fo much as they.
Some drily plain, without invention's aid,
Write dull receipts how poems may be made.
These lose the sense, their learning to display,
And those explain the meaning quite away.
You then whofe judgment the right course would fteer, Know well each Ancient's proper character; His Fable, Subject, fcope in every page; Religion, Country, genius of his Age: Without all these at once before your eyes, Cavil you may, but never criticize.
Be Homer's works your ftudy and delight,
Read them by day, and meditate by night;
Thence form your judgment, thence your maxims bring,
And trace the Mufes upward to their fpring.
Still with itself compar'd, his text peruse;
Or let your comment be the Mantuan Muse,
When firft young Maro fung of Kings and wars,
E'er warning Phoebus touch'd his trembling ears,
Perhaps he feem'd above the Critic's law,
And but from Nature's fountains fcorn'd to draw:
But when t' examine ev'ry part he came,
Nature and Homer were, he found, the fame :
Convinc'd, amaz'd, he checks the bold defign;
And rules as ftrict his labour'd work confine,
As if the Stagyrite o'erlook'd each line.
Learn hence for ancient rules a juft efteem;
To copy nature is to copy them.
Some beauties yet no precepts can declare,
For there's a happinefs as well as care,
Mufic resembles Poetry, in each
Are nameless graces which no methods teach,
And which a mafter-hand alone can reach.
If, where the rules not far enough extend,
(Since rules were made but to promote their end)
Some lucky Licence answers to the full
Th' intent propos'd, that Licence is a rule,
Thus Pegafus, a nearer way to take,
May boldly deviate from the common track.
Great Wits fometimes may glorioufly offend,
And rife to faults true Critics dare not mend,
From vulgar bounds with brave diforder part,
And fnatch a grace beyond the reach of art,
Which without paffing thro' the judgment, gains
The heart, and all its end at once attains.
In profpects, thus, fome objects please our eyes,
Which out of nature's common order rise,
The shapeless rock, or hanging precipice.
But care in poetry muft ftill be had,
It asks difcretion ev'n in running mad :
And tho' the Ancients thus their rules invade,
(As Kings difpenfe with laws themfelves have made).
Moderns beware! or if you must offend
Against the precept, ne'er tranfgrefs its end;
Let it be feldom, and compell'd by need;
And have, at least, their precedent to plead.
The Critic elfe proceeds without remorse,
Seizes your fame, and puts his laws in force.
I know there are, to whofe prefumptuous thoughts
Those freer beauties, ev'n in them, seem faults.
Some figures monftrous and mifhap'd appear,
Confider'd fingly, or beheld too near,
Which, but proportion'd to their light, or place,
Due diftance reconciles to form and grace.
A prudent chief not always muft difplay
His pow'rs in equal ranks, and fair array,
But with th' occafion and the place comply,
Conceal his force, nay feem fometimes to fly.
Thofe oft' are ftratagems which errors seem,
Nor is it Homer nods, but we that dream.
Still green with bays each ancient Altar ftands,
Above the reach of facrilegious hands;
Secure from flames, from envy's fiercer rage,
Destructive war, and all-devouring age.
See, from each clime the learn'd their incense bring:
Hear, in all tongues confenting Pæans ring!
In praise so just let ev'ry voice be join'd,
And fill the gen'ral Chorus of mankind!
Hail, Bards triumphant! born in happier days;
Immortal heirs of univerfal praife!
Whose honours with increase of ages grow,
As ftreams roll down, enlarging as they flow!
Nations unborn your mighty names fhall found,
And worlds applaud that must not yet be found!
Oh may fome fpark of your celeftial fire,
The laft, the meaneft of your fons inspire,
(That on weak wings, from far, pursues your flights;
Glows while he reads, but trembles as he writes)
To teach vain Wits a science little known,
T'admire fuperior fenfe, and doubt their own!
Of all the causes which confpire to blind
Man's erring judgment, and misguide the mind,
What the weak head with strongest biafs rules,
Is Pride, the never-failing vice of fools.
Whatever nature has in worth deny'd,
She gives in large recruits of needful pride;
For as in bodies, thus in fouls we find
What wants in blood and fpirits, fwell'd with wind: 210 Pride, where Wit fails, fteps in to our defence,
And fills up all the mighty void of fenfe.
right reafon drives that cloud away,
Truth breaks upon us with refiftless day.
Truft not yourself; but your defects to know,
Make use of ev'ry friend--and ev'ry foe.
A little learning is a dang'rous thing;
Drink deep, or tafte not the Piërian spring :
There fhallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
And drinking largely fobers us again.
Fir'd at firft fight with what the Mufe imparts,
In fearless youth we tempt the heights of arts,
While from the bounded level of our mind,
Short views we take, nor fee the lengths behind.
But more advanc'd, behold with ftrange furprize
New diftant fcenes of endless science rife!
So pleas'd at first the tow'ring Alps we try,
Mount o'er the vales, and feem to tread the sky,
Th'eternal fnows appear already past,
And the first clouds and mountains feem the laft:
But those attain'd, we tremble to furvey
The growing labours of the lengthen'd way,
Th' increafing profpe&t tires our wand'ring eyes,
Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arife!
A perfect Judge will read each work of wit,
With the fame fpirit that its author writ,
Survey the Whole, nor feek flight faults to find
Where nature moves, and rapture warms the mind;
Nor lofe, for that malignant dull delight,
The gen'rous pleasure to be charm'd with wit.
But in fuch lays as neither ebb, nor flow,
Correctly cold, and regularly low,
That fhunning faults, one quiet tenor keep;
We cannot blame indeed-
In wit, as nature, what affects our hearts
Is not th' exactness of peculiar parts;
'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call,
But the joint force and full refult of all.
Thus when we view fome well-proportion'd dome,
(The world's juft wonder, and evʼn thine, O Rome !) 250 No fingle parts unequally furprize,
All comes united to th' admiring eyes;
No monftrous height, or breadth, or length appear;
The Whole at once is bold, and regular.
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